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Part Five

Posted on Sunday, 4 June 2006

Darcy had not received her suggestion well. To Sophia’s astonishment and dismay he adamantly refused to leave London until he was satisfied with Georgiana’s ability to move with ease in their circle of society, or so he claimed.

Retreating to her chambers, Sophia’s despair broke forth in a tearful display to which she was thankful no other was witness. It was some time before she was able to regain control of her feelings and then the mirror revealed the reddened eyes and blotchy cheeks that would not easily be disguised. Allowing her husband to see her in such a state was insupportable. Sophia determined to keep to her rooms until her appearance no longer betrayed her recent distress. Immediately she sent for her maid and some water to cool her flushed face.

Her efforts assured success if only her thoughts could be so simply tamed. Instead, Sophia was unable to keep from dwelling on her husband’s inexplicable behaviour. That he was unaware of the distress his actions caused her was clear.

Or is it that he does not care?

She closed her eyes tightly, willing the tears away and refusing to believe Darcy was so unfeeling. Several deep breaths brought some calm to her anxious state. There were too many unanswered questions to completely let go of her fears, however. Each passing day saw her husband slipping further away, their marriage inexorably becoming a union in name only. That was Sophia’s greatest fear for after living with Darcy for more than a year, bearing their son and witnessing his performance as a loving father, she was not going to turn a blind eye to whatever was troubling him and driving them apart.

Tears were not going to help. More likely they would send Darcy further from her. He valued strength, not weakness. Sophia viewed her tears, her feelings for him as an impediment. Had he not married her with the understanding that theirs was to be a liaison of a practical nature, with no emotional aspect? How contemptible of her to resort to claiming an attachment when she felt threatened.

Threatened by what?

Jealousy.

Darcy would not understand that he was the cause of her insecurities as well as her joys. He could never be jealous of her feelings for another. In the matter of her late husband’s memory, her fondness and sentimentality, he was untouched and allowed her every expression without criticism. Would it please him to know that her current husband had at last supplanted the former in her heart?

How cruel it was that she could feel so much yet was permitted to say so little.

“So, you are back after all! Georgiana expected to hear from you as soon as you returned.”

Darcy attempted a cheerfulness he did not feel. “I apologise for not contacting her. There was a matter requiring my immediate attention.”

Bingley grinned. “Do you mean Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

Every muscle in Darcy’s body twitched. Slowly, he raised his eyes to stare piercingly at his friend. “I beg your pardon?”

“Georgiana told me everything. At least, everything that Fitzwilliam told her and that was considerable!” Bingley failed to notice his friend’s increasing discomfort. “I was astounded when I heard! Surely it’s not the same Miss Bennet, I thought.” He finally looked straight at Darcy. “Well, is it?”

“Yes,” said Darcy, slowly.

“What!” Bingley abandoned decorum in his astonishment. “I don’t understand. How could you actually... I mean, I thought you... Have you no objections?”

“Objections?” Darcy was open-mouthed in his dismay. “There are a hundred objections but what was to be done? I cannot change the circumstances that brought about her fate.”

“But... I thought you would at least try to persuade your cousin that such a match is unsuitable. Did you not point that out? What is so different that you have not warned him as you did me? Or have you spoken and he refused to listen?” Bingley frowned, once again reminding himself that Fitzwilliam was less reliant on Darcy’s opinions than he was.

Darcy shook his head, a little confused at the barrage of questions. What exactly did Bingley know, or suspect? He decided to address one query at a time. “My cousin developed a ... fondness for Miss Bennet more than two years ago while we were visiting with our aunt in Kent and Miss Bennet was staying with her cousin and his wife. You might remember Mr. Collins, the parson who serves Lady Catherine’s parish. At that time Fitzwilliam had no prospects and, although quite taken with her, made it clear that he had no intentions toward her. That, as you well know, has changed.”

“Yes, he is now quite independent.”

“Miss Bennet appears to return his sentiments. At least, she has not discouraged him.” Darcy sighed. “I have reason to believe she is not feigning an interest in favour of pursuing a man of fortune.”

Bingley was aghast. “Surely you would never think she would marry a man for his money!”

“Bingley, sometimes you can be so....” In frustration, Darcy turned away. He found it unbearable to be discussing Elizabeth’s possible future with his own cousin.

However, Bingley was annoyed with what he perceived as his friend’s stubborn inability to see beyond a young woman’s social and financial status. “I cannot believe what I’m hearing, Darcy. Alright, so you found a lady who had position, fortune and was available, not to mention amenable to the kind of marriage you proposed. Some of us are not willing to settle for anything less than a return of our affections.”

“If the lady returns them.” His comment was directed at himself but Bingley did not hear it as such.

“I know you said these marriages of convenience often end up in reciprocated feelings but I still prefer that the attachment comes before marriage.” Suddenly realising what he’d said, Bingley looked shamefaced and tried to make up for offending the brother of his betrothed. “Believe me, I do love Georgiana and I know she loves me. Don’t think I doubt her affections. It’s just that –.”

“I know,” interrupted Darcy. “My sister will never replace Jane Bennet in your heart.” What is the power of those Bennet sisters, to hold men like Bingley and myself at their mercy? “Did you come here, then, to learn something of Miss Bennet from her sister? You will derive no comfort from that, I assure you. There is nothing to be gained by prolonging such familiarity. You would be better off to distance yourself and forget you ever knew of Elizabeth Bennet’s presence here.”

“That would be impossible!” Bingley was appalled at the suggestion. “She’s marrying your cousin, isn’t she? How could any of us avoid association with her? Georgiana is even planning a dinner party as soon as Fitzwilliam provides her with a convenient date.”

Darcy now faced a dilemma. He had hoped to have arranged Elizabeth’s removal from the house without anyone else being aware of the circumstances. His cousin’s unexpected involvement brought complications. Barely a day had passed and he discovered Georgiana and Bingley also knew of Fitzwilliam’s plans. Darcy could think of no easy method for enlightening his wife that the governess to her son was about to marry into their family. Yet, tell her he must, and it had to be done immediately. Fitzwilliam had practised discretion by not mentioning Elizabeth’s name, out of respect for the delicacy of the matter. Georgiana would have no reason to keep silent while Bingley was in an equally awkward position. Darcy knew he would have to tell Bingley the truth.

“Please sit down,” he said, falling heavily into one of the chairs himself. His friend’s face took on a worried expression but Darcy drew a deep breath and began. “This is not easy for me to admit, Bingley. I have never, in my entire life, felt at a loss to find a solution to any problem which faced me. I am facing one now, however, out of which I cannot see any easy way.”

“My God, Darcy,” Bingley said with dreadful anticipation. “What is it? Can I help?”

“Unfortunately you are one of the people affected, my friend. Everyone I care about is affected.” Darcy could sit no longer. He sought some relief in his favourite sanctuary at the window and stared through the glass without seeing what was outside. “What I have to tell you involves yourself and Georgiana, Fitzwilliam and Sophia. It also involves Elizabeth Bennet.”

Friendship was not something Bingley regarded lightly. He listened to Darcy’s words and prepared himself to support his friend when all was said. “Go on,” he prompted.

Still with his back to the room, as if addressing the glass pane, Darcy asked, “Where do I start?”

“At the beginning?”

Not the beginning. No, that is too painful to recite. “I know you recall the afternoon when we saw Miss Bennet in the park. Did you realise that her sister was with her?” Bingley admitted that he had noticed Elizabeth as well. “I learned only recently why they came to London. Almost a year ago Mr. Bennet passed away, leaving his wife and five daughters with nothing. You might remember that Longbourn was entailed to his cousin, Mr. Collins, whom we met. That gentlemen had the generosity to allow Mrs. Bennet a scant two months to find alternate accommodations for her family. I can only surmise that my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, his patroness, was instrumental in insisting that he brook no delay in taking possession of the house. As a result, Mrs. Bennet and her daughters were forced to separate for they could not afford a home large enough for them all.

“I’m not sure how well you remember the sisters. Miss Mary proved the most fortunate in that she had already formed an attachment and the gentleman proposed before her father had died. Her future was secured. Mrs. Bennet was taken in by her sister and Miss Catherine along with her. Perhaps the most distressing information that I learned was the fate of Miss Lydia, the youngest of the Bennet sisters. She had met with an unfortunate accident here in London the previous year and suffered a head injury which necessitated Mr. Bennet placing her in the care of an asylum for the remainder of her life.”

“How horrible!” Watching the other man’s stiff backed figure, Bingley waited to hear the details about Jane.

Darcy sighed. “Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth came to London, first to stay with their aunt and uncle. That is when we saw them in the park. Miss Bennet has been serving as governess to their cousins while her sister was seeking a position for herself.”

“Then she is not married.”

Aware that Bingley’s thoughts were not following where he was leading, Darcy’s reply was curt. “No, Jane Bennet is not married.” It was, perhaps, unfair of him to rebuke his friend when his own feelings were in disarray, continually drawn to a woman who was not his wife. Bingley’s apologetic expression served to further Darcy’s dissatisfaction with himself. “Miss Elizabeth eventually gained the position she sought.”

“She has become a governess, too?” Bingley was thoughtful. “And your cousin, a Viscount, will marry her knowing this. I’m sorry but I cannot find any fault in his choice!”

Turning from the window to face his friend, Darcy exclaimed, “Good Lord, Bingley! Do you think I do?” He gave the other man no time to answer, swiftly crossing the breadth of the room with impatience, anger in his voice. “Yes, Elizabeth Bennet is a governess! She is governess to my wife’s son!”

Bingley was on his feet in an instant. “What did you say?” He grabbed at Darcy’s arm to stop his pacing. “What did you say?” he repeated.

“She is Robert’s governess.”

Bingley released his friend’s arm as if it burned, staring incredulously. “I don’t believe it. How could you? How could you do it?”

“Bingley –.”

The other man was shaking his head, though, muttering aloud his thoughts as he tried to understand Darcy’s actions. “You hired her as if she is a common servant! I would not have thought you could be so.. so... unfeeling!”

“You must realise that I have no authority in the matter of Robert’s education,” said his friend with a touch of annoyance. “I am not his father nor am I his guardian. Sophia has little more power in this than I. Elizabeth Bennet was hired by the trustees who oversee Robert’s affairs. I knew nothing about it until she had been here long enough to become settled, Robert to become attached and Sophia to approve of her.”

“Still,” argued Bingley, unwilling to believe the issue so grievous as Darcy implied, “could you not have simply said she was not suitable...? No, that wouldn’t do, either.”

“No, it wouldn’t. She relies upon having an income in order to support herself. Dismissing her is tantamount to condemning her to a life of poverty and menial labour.” Distaste at the prospect was evident in Darcy’s face.

Bingley was persistent. “You could have arranged something, though! All of the connections at your disposal, surely there was someone who could have used the services of a governess, or a lady’s companion!”

Darcy exhaled forcefully. “She would never have accepted such an offer from my hand! Bingley, you have no idea how many notions I considered and discarded but more importantly, how would any of it be explained to Sophia?”

“Simply the fact that Miss Elizabeth did not deserve to be in such a position would not be sufficient for her?” He appeared genuinely confused.

Putting one hand to his head, Darcy rubbed his temple. “You forget that Miss Elizabeth has no other options; however unfair you may view the necessity, she must have employment.”

“How can you be so dispassionate about it, Darcy? Employment! She has been reduced to taking on a servant’s position after living a life of privilege since birth. Alright, it was not the level of privilege we enjoy but how can you not see how cruelly she has been dealt?” And Jane! Lovely Jane, how you must be suffering! Then Bingley remembered what had prompted him to visit Darcy that day. “It’s unimportant now, though. Fitzwilliam will marry her and she need never worry about ....” His eyes widened again. “You do think she’d accept him for the security he offers!”

“No.” His reply was sharp. “Elizabeth Bennet is not of the nature to marry for money alone.”

This assertion made Bingley pause. If Miss Elizabeth was so admirable in her values how could Jane be any different? “You sound convinced of it,” he said warily.

“You may trust me on this, Bingley.”

“I shall, as I have trusted your opinions on so many occasions, but I must now point out that you said quite the opposite of Jane in your attempt to induce me not to pursue her. Can you honestly say that they are so very contradictory?”

The idea startled Darcy. “I had never considered the possibility that I might have erred in determining her feelings for you.” He recalled his own shock and dismay upon discovering Elizabeth’s feelings were contrary to what he believed. “Perhaps I was mistaken after all.”

Bingley’s mouth fell open. “Mistaken! You admit now that you may have been mistaken?” His expression took on a degree of horror. “Oh my G... I left her waiting for my return. I allowed you and my sisters to persuade me that she was disinterested and I never went back! I believed Jane loved me. Did I break her heart, Darcy? Tell me! Did I abandon her to ridicule and behave as any callous rake, engaging her heart and tossing it aside?”

“You would never behave in such a fashion!” argued Darcy, eyes narrowed. “You cannot be held responsible for the hopes engendered in the minds of fools.”

“Jane is no fool! But I certainly have been.” Bingley left his friend’s side, walking to the far end of the room and taking a stance facing him. “You had repeatedly warned me about raising hopes with my friendliness toward young ladies. Jane Bennet was different. I truly loved her and still do. I accepted your advice and have no one to blame but myself for the result.”

“What will you do?” Darcy’s expression was bleak, Georgiana uppermost in his thoughts.

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Bingley, coldly. “I have not forgotten that I am engaged to your sister. When we are married that will make you my brother.” Sorrow briefly touched his eyes. “It will not necessarily make you my friend.”

Darcy’s eyes closed tightly. He heard the door close and knew that his friend was gone.

There is a time when too much reflection is counterproductive. Charles Bingley had never been prone to periods of introspection, thus his examination of the conversation with Darcy was doubly disturbing. He was forced to review his behaviour from years past with respect to Miss Bennet. Had he acted honourably? Was he deserving of censure? Regardless of the opinions of others, it was his own with which he had to live.

He loved Jane. He would always love Jane. Yet Bingley would never knowingly cause Georgiana pain. Being at odds with her brother would bring her distress and, as unhappy as he was with Darcy, Bingley knew that, if not forgiveness, tolerance must be granted so that his wife would be at ease.

His wife. It had been many long months since he had ceased to imagine Jane Bennet fulfilling that role. Georgiana was sweet; he would treat her with respect and gentle kindness but since hearing Darcy admit he may have made an error in concluding that Jane did not return his affections, Bingley knew his marrying Miss Darcy would only be for the sake of honour. He intended to fulfill the promise he had made when offering her his hand.

An unpleasant thought occurred to him; had Darcy planned all along to thwart his involvement with every young lady he fancied until Georgiana came of age? Was his design all along to encourage a union between his sister and his closest friend? Almost immediately Bingley deemed the thought unworthy; his friend would never act so dishonourably. Yet he could not rid himself of the persistent feeling of being ill used. He could summon no sympathy for Darcy despite that man’s professed dilemma.

Let him explain to his wife the ways he has interfered in the lives of others; how so many have suffered because of his presumption to know what others feel and think.

In his misery Bingley believed he could have prevented the misfortunes experienced by the Bennets following the death of Mr. Bennet. If he had married Jane he would never have given a second thought to finding a new home for his mother- and sisters-in-law. He would have been proud to do it!

This line of thought was useless, however, and he soon fell into a dismal contemplation of how he could best face Miss Elizabeth when that moment would arrive. She would no doubt be angry with him, amazed that he could meet her after deserting her sister and then to have the effrontery to issue an invitation to dine with his betrothed! Bingley squirmed with embarrassment just thinking about it. The evening would afford him the opportunity to hear of Jane, as long as Miss Elizabeth did not refuse to grant him that information, at least. Pain filled his heart, the longing to learn anything of his dearest Jane laid bare the warning in Darcy’s words:

You will derive no comfort from that, I assure you. There is nothing to be gained by prolonging such familiarity. You would be better off to distance yourself and forget you ever knew of Elizabeth Bennet’s presence here.

“How can I forget? It is impossible,” he muttered within the private confines of his carriage. If Jane had suffered even half as much as himself, Bingley knew no forgiveness would be offered from Elizabeth. He could not forgive himself. His heart cried out to know the truth; had Jane really loved him? Part of him hoped the answer was no, for it would mean she had not been hurt when he failed to return. Another part of him longed for the answer to be yes despite the hopelessness of the situation. There could be no future with Jane Bennet.

The horses halted, bringing the carriage to a stop in front of the Darcy townhouse. Bingley thought of all the things a marriage to Georgiana Darcy would bring. As her brother had often reminded him, items of a practical nature were as valuable, and sometimes more so, than the lady herself. Bingley shook his head; the whole concept was wrong! Georgiana was young, beautiful and sweet natured. He could ask for nothing better in that respect. She brought to their marriage the house before him and a sizeable fortune. These were grand incentives for most men, of that Bingley was aware.

But I don’t love her, not as a man should love his wife. Not as I want to love my wife.

He had offered for her, however, and he would not ruin the lady’s reputation by jilting her. Furthermore, he would not break her heart. One lady’s heart was enough on his conscience.

Realising he had been sitting for some time without exiting the carriage, Bingley picked up his hat from the seat and stepped down to the sidewalk. The front door of the house opened to admit him and the sounds of music drifted down the hallway. He found Georgiana at the piano, as expected, but she was not alone in the room. Her cousin sat in a nearby chair, thoroughly enjoying her playing, judging by his smile. Fitzwilliam noticed Bingley’s arrival and nodded a greeting although Georgiana was intent upon the keys and did not see him come in. By the time the piece was complete, the music had worked some charm and taken the edge off of Bingley’s distress, enabling him to encounter her eye with only some mild uneasiness.

“Charles,” she shyly welcomed him, too aware of her cousin’s presence for anything more personal. Bingley took her hand and kissed the back of it, bringing her to a seat near Fitzwilliam and taking another next to them. “Richard says he may bring Miss Bennet here for tea one day next week so that I may meet her. Would you like to come, too?”

“She won’t bite you, Georgiana,” teased Fitzwilliam.

A blush appeared on her cheeks. “Don’t be silly. Charles thinks he may know your Miss Bennet, too.”

“What a coincidence!” The exclamation sounded casual enough but Bingley detected something change in Fitzwilliam’s countenance. He appeared almost wary. “It’s not very surprising, really. I already told you that your brother had met her some years ago. Perhaps, Bingley, you were with him at the time, too.” Fitzwilliam suddenly rose from his chair. “I’m sorry but I must be going now, Georgiana. I’m sure Bingley won’t mind my leaving, anyway.” He grinned. “Oh, but you mentioned a book I could borrow. Would it be too much trouble if I took it with me now?”

“No, no. I’ll just run upstairs to get it.”

As soon as she left the room, Fitzwilliam went to the door to peer out into the hallway. Satisfied that his cousin was truly out of earshot he returned to Bingley. “What do you know of Miss Bennet?”

The other man saw no reason to prevaricate. “I have just come from speaking with Darcy.”

Fitzwilliam nodded solemnly. “Then you understand why I am going to ask you not to say anything to Georgiana yet.”

“No,” frowned Bingley. “I do not. I will not lie to her.”

“I am not asking you to lie,” said Fitzwilliam with impatience. “We have not much time before she returns but I want to make it clear to you that until Darcy has broached the matter with Sophia we must not let anyone else know, not even Georgiana, of Miss Bennet’s role in his household.”

“I don’t see what difference it makes if Georgiana knows the truth. She will not think any less of Miss Elizabeth.”

Fitzwilliam took hold of Bingley’s arm and drew him further from the door. “Good Lord, Bingley, it’s for Sophia’s sake that I’m asking you to remain silent for a while!” he whispered harshly. “She does not yet know that her son’s governess is the woman to whom I intend to propose. Darcy must inform her and I do not envy him the task but I hope he does it as soon as possible. Miss Bennet cannot stay there much longer or there is danger the gossips will get wind of things and scandal will follow.”

“Scandal!” Bingley’s confusion grew. “Surely no one would find scurrilous gossip in your attachment to Elizabeth Bennet even if she is a governess!”

Fitzwilliam stared at the other man for a moment but, reminded of his cousin’s imminent return, he spoke quickly. “Think, man! My interest in her is not the issue. There’s Darcy in a comfortable marriage and a woman from his past shows up as a servant in his own house! You know what the scandal sheets would make of that. Sophia would be afraid to step out of the house.”

A woman from his past? Bingley was prevented from pursuing this question by Georgiana’s appearance.

“I’m sorry I took so long, Richard, but I managed to find it.” She handed him a large volume. “Fitzwilliam told me it was one of Father’s favourites. Some of the pages are rather worn.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m sure I shall enjoy it. Now, I must bid you good day and to you too, Bingley.” His parting gaze was meaningful, hopeful that the younger man would do as he asked.

“Goodbye, Fitzwilliam. I shall consider your suggestion,” acknowledged Bingley.

“Are you recommending books, too?” Georgiana laughed.

“Nothing so diverting, my dear,” her cousin smiled. “Merely a little of that dull business we men are so fond of.”

“I want to hear none of it, then!”

Fitzwilliam was gratified to hear Bingley say he’d spare her the details before he left the two of them preparing to take advantage of the fine late afternoon sun to walk about town.

Part Six

Posted on Sunday, 11 June 2006

After parting with Georgiana early that evening, Bingley chose to walk back to his own home, attempting to unravel the tangled thoughts from his brief conversation with Fitzwilliam. What had the man meant when he called Miss Elizabeth a woman from his past? That description was usually reserved for a former lover and he was sure that did not apply to Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet!

Or did it?

He tried to cast his mind back to those weeks spent in Hertfordshire and the behaviour of his friend at the time but the more he thought about things, the more confused he became. Bingley knew the only way to find an answer would be from Darcy directly. Considering the nature of their earlier parting it wasn’t likely to be a pleasant conversation. Abruptly, he changed the direction of his walk.

He found his friend much as he had left him, alone in the study. Darcy did not look up at the sound of the door opening but had obviously been expecting someone.

“I’m almost finished. You may tell your mistress I shall join her shortly.”

Bingley raised one eyebrow, unable to resist a sarcastic rejoinder. “Unlike some of my fellows I do not keep a mistress.”

“Bingley!” Darcy half rose from his chair in surprise. “I had not thought to see you again so soon.”

“In truth, I had no intention of returning when I left you earlier today but some information was made known to me and requires clarification.”

Darcy did not wish to waste the opportunity to regain his friend’s good opinion and so he quickly pushed aside the papers on his desk and offered Bingley a drink.

“No, thank you,” was the reply. “I would rather get straight to the point.”

Darcy nodded. “I see. What is it you wish to know?”

“It concerns Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Of course.” Darcy’s expression revealed nothing of his inner turmoil.

Bingley did not pause to weigh his words. “What happened between you?” He saw Darcy flinch. “Why did your cousin say there could be some scandal because she is in your house?” When silence was the reply he placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “I’m not leaving until you tell me the truth. I may be angry with you Darcy but I will never believe you guilty of any kind of unprincipled act. What did Fitzwilliam mean?”

Immediately, Darcy’s gaze hardened and he pushed his chair away from the desk. He did not get up, but grasped the wooden arms and spoke in a low voice. “While in Kent, with Miss Bennet visiting her own cousin, Fitzwilliam believed me to be in love with her and expected me to make an offer.”

Bingley took a step back. “Were you? Did you?”

“Bingley, before we discuss this further I must extract a promise from you. There are details you wish to know that are better left unsaid. I ask this not for myself, not to save face, but in order to spare the feelings of certain others who would find the knowledge painful. If you cannot promise me to repeat nothing of what I say from this point forward then I must remain silent as well.” The seriousness of this speech was emphasised by his unwavering gaze.

Bingley did not need to think about the request. “Of course I shall not betray any confidence of yours, Darcy. As I said before, I cannot believe you would behave in an unprincipled manner. Whatever you tell me will go no further.”

Relief flooded him quite unexpectedly. Darcy did not realise until that moment how much he wanted to hear his fears voiced aloud and perhaps gain some insight from another perspective. He resisted the urge to take refuge in his favourite spot at a window, choosing to seek reassurance in his words instead. “Yes,” he began. “I never intended to fall in love with her; did everything in my power to prevent it. Escaping to London was supposed to free me of her but that was useless. A visit to my aunt was sure to remind me that my decision was the correct one. I could not have known, nor been prepared for Elizabeth’s presence there. I stayed away from her for the entire first week, Fitzwilliam unknowingly eroding my determination with his daily reports of how lovely Miss Bennet looked that morning and her refreshing wit compared to the desert of conversation offered at Rosings. I could withstand it no longer and accompanied him to the Parsonage to behold her for myself and finally succumb to the inevitable.

“During those weeks I sought her out at every opportunity; walking the grounds, while she played after dinner at my aunt’s home, visiting the Parsonage with and often without Fitzwilliam. I even deferred our departure more than once because I simply was unable to leave her without some hope of a future encounter. When I could no longer put off my leaving there was but one choice. I went to her with confidence and fully expecting to leave Kent as a man engaged.”

Bingley had listened in silence but suddenly cried out, “She refused you!”

“Yes, she refused me,” Darcy grumbled. “You do not seem surprised.”

“I am surprised to hear that you had any feelings for her. Miss Bennet’s refusal is not to be wondered at when she probably wasn’t aware she was being courted!” Bingley threw his hands wide in exasperation.

“Please explain.” The reasons for his rejection had consumed Darcy for many long days and nights afterward. Never had he entertained the notion that Elizabeth had been unaware of his intentions.

“Darcy, I’ve known you for years. I’ve seen you grieve the loss of your father, aggressively protect your sister, patiently deal with my irritating sister and most recently cradle your newborn son with a gentleness I never knew you possessed. Not once, however, did I have the impression that you were attracted to Elizabeth Bennet let alone that you were in love with her.” Bingley finally took a seat, rested his head against the back and looked at his friend. “So she rejected you. Then what?”

“I returned to London,” Darcy replied.

“Why does that not surprise me, either?” Frowning, Bingley shook his head. “Darcy, did it never occur to you that your methods were not, how shall I say it, sensitive to the desires of a lady’s heart? Miss Elizabeth refuses your offer and you simply accept it, move on and forget about her? What does that say for your professions of love?”

Offended, Darcy sat tall in his chair. “It says exactly what I said to her, that I respected her lively wit and intelligence as well as her ability to make decisions for herself, not based on anyone else’s requirements.”

“You are a bigger fool than I ever believed possible. There cannot be another man who would give up so easily.” He felt a sudden rush of shame. “Except for myself, I suppose. I accepted your word that Jane felt nothing for me instead of finding out the truth.”

“There was no truth to discover, for me at least. Her reply was plain enough.” Darcy was still feeling the sting of being labelled a fool. “It is not foolish to accept a lady’s answer as the one she intended.”

“No,” agreed Bingley, “but anyone else would have asked why and if the reasons were not sound you threw away your chance to change her mind.” He watched Darcy’s expression turn thoughtful. “Not everyone is as unyielding as you.”

“I would rather not know.” The words were quiet but not so quiet that his friend could not hear them.

“You’re still in love with her.”

Darcy’s eyelids closed. He felt nothing but weariness. “It may, perhaps, gratify you to know that I am perfectly acquainted with the suffering you experienced after leaving Miss Bennet in Hertfordshire.”

“What do you plan to tell Sophia?” Bingley was not a man who could enjoy petty victories.

“None of what you’ve just heard. The same goes for Fitzwilliam. He suspected my attachment to Elizabeth while we were at Rosings but it was never confirmed or denied. Subsequent events have made it immaterial. It is my problem alone. I have been mindful of the content of the few conversations I have had with Miss Bennet and am confident that I have not betrayed myself there. Sophia....” Darcy sighed. “Sophia is my wife and I will not give her any reason to dread appearing in public while others gossip behind her back. It is imperative that no detail escapes this house. Fitzwilliam would brave the scandal sheets and protect Miss Bennet from the worst. I could not care less what is said of me except for how it will affect my family. I will not tolerate Sophia being subjected to the scorn and ridicule that would follow any report fabricated from the threads of what I have told you today.”

Bingley recognised the determined set of his friend’s jaw and the intense look in his eyes. “So, you will only prepare her with the news that a new governess will need to be found.”

“In essence, yes.” Rubbing his forehead to relieve a growing headache, Darcy added, “I am having enough difficulty coming to terms with this entire situation. How Mr. Bennet could leave his wife and daughters so ill provided after his death and the gall of Collins to refuse any decent amount of time to even grieve – !” The door burst open, interrupting Darcy with the sound of a child’s laughter.

“Robert,” a voice scolded from beyond the doorway. “Stay out of there!”

A small head poked around the open door and peered into the room, disappointment registering at first until the boy recognised the faces looking back at him. Robert giggled and ran into the room straight toward Darcy. “Papa!” he cried. “Hide me!”

“Hide you?” Darcy glanced back at the doorway, waiting for Elizabeth to appear. “What have you done with Miss Bennet?”

“She’s out there,” the child loudly whispered, pointing to the hallway. “Don’t want to draw letters. Don’t like them!”

Bingley could not help smiling at Robert’s vehemence although he noticed his friend frown in disapproval. Miss Bennet suddenly entered through the open doorway, quickly apologising for the interruption.

“Mr. Darcy, please excuse us. I am so sorry to interrupt you. I did not think anyone was in here at this hour.” The flush in her face and aversion of her eyes prevented Elizabeth from noticing the second man who was quietly staring at her. “It will not happen again.”

“No,” said Darcy grimly. “It will not.”

Bingley looked sharply at his friend, then back at Miss Bennet to see the mortification in her expression. It was obvious that she felt his disapproval but before he could say anything in her defence Darcy spoke again.

“Robert, you and I need to have a talk.” He took the boy by the hand, leading him to where Elizabeth stood, and stopped before her. “First you will apologise to Miss Bennet for running off and then we shall speak about the importance of heeding her directions.” Darcy waited for either Elizabeth or Robert to speak but the boy was stubborn, the lady perhaps afraid to look up. “Miss Bennet?” he quietly prompted. She finally raised her eyes, determination in their depths. “I believe a lecture is long overdue for this young man and if you will pardon me for choosing this moment to fulfill my duty, I think you may not find it too unpleasant to wait here for our return. You will remember Mr. Bingley, I believe.” His free arm extended to indicate where his friend was standing, smiling tentatively.

“Oh!” She was completely surprised to see him, thoughts of Jane suddenly replacing her own feelings of embarrassment. Quickly, Elizabeth curtseyed. “Mr. Bingley.”

“Miss Bennet,” the gentleman replied with a modest bow. He was at a loss how to finish the greeting as anything else would sound contrived.

Darcy turned his attention to Robert. “I am waiting to hear you apologise.”

The boy wilted under the stern gaze. His lips quivered but his voice was strong when he said the required words. “I’m sorry I ran away, Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth immediately felt sorry for the lad; she knew what it was like to be under Mr. Darcy’s reproachful eye. “I accept your apology,” she said, managing to prevent herself from giving the Master a scathing glance of her own.

Darcy felt the heat of her displeasure all the same. “Come, Robert,” he said more gently. “We shall not be long.” The last was directed more toward Bingley, a reminder that whatever he wished to say to Elizabeth had best be done quickly.

Neither spoke in the first moments after Darcy left. Bingley, very much aware that his time was limited, suddenly began, “Miss Bennet, I only recently learned of your misfortunes. Please allow me to express my sympathies about your father’s death. When Darcy told me of your circumstances I was ... shocked. I wish there was something I could do to help.” He looked at her, his gaze earnest.

Elizabeth felt anger well up inside her. How dare he say such a thing! How dare he offer to help as if his own actions hadn’t been the cause of some of those misfortunes. She controlled her temper enough to reply civilly. “Unfortunately there was nothing anyone could have done, Mr. Bingley. My father’s passing was not entirely unexpected in the end and we were all aware of the particulars of the entailment, so Mr. Collins’ wish to claim his inheritance without much delay was more inconvenient than surprising.” She was unaware of the details that Darcy had uncovered, the lengths to which he had gone in order to discover what had brought her to seek a governess’s position and to end up in his own home. She chose to let Mr. Bingley direct their conversation.

“I hope you will forgive me for being direct, Miss Bennet, but Darcy’s information has quite unsettled me.” Bingley’s newfound determination compelled him to speak plainly. “I must know how your elder sister is faring. Is she well?”

Although Elizabeth could hear the sincerity in his voice and detected distress in his expression, she was not disposed to offer any relief. “What concern is it of yours, sir? You relinquished any claim on my sister when you failed to return to Netherfield despite assuring everyone that your business would demand only a short period of your attention. I can see no reason for your enquiry now.” She was not pleased that she allowed her own dissatisfaction to colour her speech.

Bingley was a little taken aback by her vehemence, yet his resolve did not abandon him. “I made some foolish decisions but it doesn’t mean I stopped... I never intended to cause anyone to suffer.”

“You and Jane would have been very happy.”

He looked at Elizabeth searchingly, certain that her words conveyed something more. “If I could turn back the clock, Miss Bennet, I would not be so hasty with my faith in other people’s opinions.”

This remark did not sit well with Elizabeth, either. “I know whose opinion you trusted and what he said to sway you from Jane. Mr. Bingley, your lack of confidence in your own judgment does not excuse the fact that my dear sister was left with the hope of seeing you again and you did not even come back to the neighbourhood to make any goodbyes to anyone! Did you trust your friend so completely that everybody graced with your company in Hertfordshire was suddenly beneath your notice?”

“I do not think I understand you,” he said, frowning in confusion. “If you know what Darcy said then you must realise that I could not return because I believed your sister did not return my affections.”

Elizabeth’s mouth fell open. “But... I thought he convinced you that Jane was unsuitable to be your wife, that our family’s position was not good enough for you to form such an alliance.”

“Oh, he said that alright.” Bingley nodded, still frowning. “That argument did not hold sway with me, however. No, the most important aspect to me was that Jane would love me as much as I loved her. Darcy did not see any sign of regard in her behaviour.” When Elizabeth was about to speak he held up both hands so that he could finish what he had to say. “Do not be too harsh on him, Miss Bennet. He still has to contend with me on this issue for I only learned today that he may have been mistaken in his estimation, although in no way do I excuse myself for accepting his conclusions at the time. I am not the man I was two years ago. I do not bend as easily to Darcy’s views.”

Elizabeth’s consternation was great upon hearing Mr. Bingley’s speech. She had been quite prepared to heap upon him an equal share of the blame for Jane’s heartache, even knowing that Darcy was primarily the guilty party. To have abandoned her for the sake of their social position and lack of connections was unpardonable. Upon hearing that he had stood by her sister despite the strength of Darcy’s argument, for that man had a talent for words, and only admitted defeat in the face of a direct attack on his vulnerability, the need to be loved in return, Elizabeth’s anger flamed anew. This time it was directed solely at Mr. Darcy. “I do not believe Mr. Darcy deserves my lenience, Mr. Bingley. In fact, he deserves no less than my censure, for he was wrong, utterly wrong, in estimating Jane’s feelings! His interference in such a high-handed manner separated two people and brought at least one of them misery of the acutest kind. I am surprised that you would defend him at all.”

Quickly he assured her that his position was contrary to her belief. “I offer no defence of Darcy. That is something he must do for himself. Believe me, Miss Bennet, I do not take kindly to his interference, either.” His expression changed to one of uncertainty. “May I enquire again as to how your sister is faring?”

A small smile appeared on Elizabeth’s face. “Jane is well, sir, and staying with my aunt and uncle. The ones from Cheapside.” The relief Bingley felt was obvious. Elizabeth felt hope rise that Jane, at least, might be spared a life of loneliness. “She would be delighted to see you again,” she hinted.

Bingley suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to pay such a call. I am...” he paused, glancing down at the floor before inhaling deeply and meeting Elizabeth’s gaze once more. “I am engaged to Miss Darcy.”

Elizabeth felt her heart sink. “Oh,” she said. Then again, “Oh.”

Darcy stayed away as long as he could, calculating that Bingley had plenty of time to procure the information he sought. As he returned to the study his thoughts turned to Georgiana and how Bingley’s new knowledge would affect her. Can he withstand the temptation to seek out Jane Bennet? Lord knows I am aware of just how difficult it is to put Elizabeth out of my mind but is Bingley’s situation so very different? I don’t know what I can do to protect my sister from being hurt, or at least being hurt too deeply.

The door swung away from him before he could reach the handle, Elizabeth’s form framed in the opening. She was tight-lipped, obviously displeased, and curtly said, “I shall take his young Lordship upstairs and ready him for bed. Mrs. Darcy will not be satisfied if we are late in meeting her this evening.”

Darcy did not miss the slight stress she put on the words Mrs. Darcy, his own lips forming a thin line in response. “Very well,” was all he said, nodding to Robert as a reminder of their recent discussion. The boy went willingly enough, neither too timid nor too proud. He had listened well to Darcy’s reprimand.

Bingley was still inside the study, awaiting the return of his friend. Elizabeth’s reaction to the news of his engagement to Miss Darcy had been difficult to witness. He knew the family had suffered terrible hardships and although he desperately wanted to offer relief there was little he could do or say without risking some form of gossip. Yet help he must and he intended to enlist Darcy’s aid, but first he had to devise a plan. One look revealed his friend’s countenance to be that of a man troubled and it was not an opportune time to broach the subject. Bingley sank back into his chair, thoughtfully considering his next move.

“Did you obtain what you wanted?” Darcy was too tired to dance around the issue.

“To some extent, yes,” replied Bingley. “There is something I would like to discuss with you but not tonight. I have some thinking to do. Don’t worry,” he added, noting Darcy looked slightly alarmed. “What I have in mind does not involve Georgiana. I have already assured you that I will not cause her to be hurt in any way.”

“Quite frankly, Bingley, I cannot see anyone emerging unscathed from this. However, I accept full responsibility.” Gravely, he fixed his gaze on the other man. “I will protect my family from scandal at whatever cost to myself, personally. Again I ask you not to repeat what you’ve learned, to Georgiana or Fitzwilliam. My sister would inadvertently let it slip out, not realising the effect. It is Elizabeth’s place to inform Fitzwilliam of her rejection of me if she wishes. I’ll not have my cousin sacrificing his own happiness out of concern for my feelings, for you know he would do that.”

Bingley nodded. He could not believe the knowledge would prevent Fitzwilliam from proposing but it would certainly colour his behaviour and perhaps arrest the closeness the two cousins had always shared. “She is very angry with you right now. Somehow, Miss Elizabeth knew of your interference and she accused you, assigned you the blame, but she did not know the entire story. I have been assured that you were, indeed, wrong in your assessment of Jane’s feelings.” It brought him no satisfaction to see that the barb had been driven deep. “I’ve nothing more to say about it tonight, Darcy, although you may expect me to return tomorrow. My business with you is not finished.” With those words Bingley took his leave.

Alone in his study Darcy at last allowed his control to fall aside, giving vent to his frustration and self recrimination. He poured a drink and carried the glass to the window where he stood looking out upon the street, on a world which quietly went about its business despite the storm raging in his heart. At first his sympathies were with Jane Bennet for he knew full well the pain she had suffered at his hand. Bingley’s suffering he had witnessed, yet when his own concerns intruded after that evening in Kent, Darcy had forgotten the wounds of his friend in favour of self preservation.

He turned from the window in disgust, snatching the decanter from the table and placing it on the desk. Fingering the stopper, Darcy pulled it free in one swift movement, refilling his glass before sitting down. A quick glance at the clock confirmed that he had missed the visit with his children and he briefly wondered why Sophia had not sent a servant to remind him. Just as quickly relief surged through his body that he hadn’t been required to play that role so soon after his encounter with Bingley.

Darcy rested his head on the chair back and stared at the ceiling. An intricate pattern of whorls engaged his attention as if tempting him with a path of escape from his troubles. He closed his eyes against the deception, his resentment continuing to build. Never in his life had he felt so powerless, unable to control the events surrounding him.

He drained his glass, feeling the liquid burn as it descended. Reaching across the desk, he poured the last of the decanter’s contents into his empty goblet. The crystal came down on the wooden surface with force enough to shatter a lesser piece. His eyes bored mercilessly into a point on the far wall, unseeing. In his mind Elizabeth was there, Fitzwilliam by her side; Fitzwilliam taking her hand and murmuring sweet endearments in her ear. She was laughing, delighted, encouraging him. Neither noticed his presence. Darcy felt as an eavesdropper or worse; watching the intimacy of their relationship develop and unfold before him. Despite the fabrication of the scene he envisioned, the twisting of his stomach could not be ignored. He knew he should be relieved. Elizabeth Bennet would be removed from his household with no effort on his part. She would no longer torture him with her presence; those eyes that shone with the light of her wit and lively character. Even in the course of the last week, that light being of anger and frustration, he could not tear his own gaze from her.

Something in him had awakened when Darcy had seen her that day of Edwin’s christening. Finding her in his home only made it stronger and now his cousin would be the lucky recipient of her smiles and soft words. All of his former feelings had returned in full; feelings he had believed to be destroyed had merely been locked away, denied. Now he felt trapped, his head reeling with confusion.

Elizabeth’s wishes were well known to him. She had refused him when he proposed at Hunsford and there was no reason to suppose anything was different.

And what if there was? Darcy closed his eyes tightly, his head dropping to his chest. Only madness lay down that road. He refused to think on it further. Elizabeth refused him and that would never change; her feelings would never change. He wished he could change his own.

Rising from behind the desk he crossed the room to retrieve another decanter and returned to his seat. He sat staring at the empty glass, not bothering to refill it. He considered the woman who was now quite probably sleeping in the rooms above him. Another woman entered his thoughts, guilt punctuating his deliberation. For some time he sat silently, lost in another time, other memories. Then he pushed the chair back and stood, head proudly tilted upward, and with the dignity always at his command Darcy strode to the door and out of the room. At the stairs he did not pause, taking them with confidence and not stopping until he reached his bedchamber. Fitch was ready to assist his Master in preparing to retire for the night. When Darcy dismissed him before completing his change of clothes the manservant showed no outward sign of surprise but for a small rise of one eyebrow, then bowed and removed himself along with the articles in need of laundering.

The door closed on Fitch and Darcy moved from the dressing room to the small antechamber that lay between his chambers and those of his wife. He stared at the closed door for a few moments before willing his feet to take him closer. A gentle tap upon the surface rewarded him with silence. As he was about to knock again the door opened and Sophia stood before him, her face reflecting apprehension, then hopeful anticipation upon beholding her husband’s informal appearance.

She smiled. “Fitzwilliam.”

Darcy took her hand and pushed the door closed behind him.

Part Seven

He seemed to be haunted by something and try as she might, Sophia could not discover what was troubling her husband. He had come to her, eyes entreating. Of course, she had believed him prepared to discuss whatever problem he faced; they would face it together.

That was not his intention.

Darcy took her hand, led her to the window alcove where they stood silently gazing out over the rooftops of the city. Sophia shivered, her nightdress not designed to withstand the chill of the evening air. The movement drew his attention. He pulled her close to him, arms enveloping her with warmth and his chin resting on the top of her head. She was afraid to move, afraid to give more than he would accept.

She wanted him to stay.

Without a word, Darcy brought his head around to place a kiss behind her ear but Sophia anticipated him, raising her head and turning just enough to meet his mouth with hers. He did not seem surprised but welcomed the kiss. She found it difficult to maintain her own control, wishing she could respond in a way that would leave no doubt of her feelings while fearing the consequences of such an action, and so she chose to follow where he led, offering encouragement to continue without becoming forward.

Her skin was cool to touch but her lips were warm. The contradiction was mirrored in his own heart for he desperately wanted to feel for his wife the same yearning that burned in him whenever he looked upon Elizabeth Bennet. He did not think it possible yet the uncertainty of this did not deter him from continuing his effort. He sought desire in her kiss, tightening his hold on her before sending one hand to cradle her head and allow his lips to explore beyond her mouth. She offered no resistance; her hands even rose to rest on his shoulders and she tipped her head back, enticing him further.

Sophia used all the powers in her possession to keep Darcy’s attention on herself; at least, she hoped his mind was not on another woman even though she knew his heart lay elsewhere. Considering from a less emotional viewpoint, marriage had already taught her how to gain her husband’s interest and maintain it, and she intended to use that knowledge.

Elizabeth thought Tuesday would never come. For the first time in weeks she greeted the day with a smile, knowing she could escape the house of Mr. Darcy and rid her mind of unpleasant thoughts while spending hours with her dearest sister. She longed for Jane’s sweet innocence to drive away the lingering effects of the previous two days. First there had been the shock upon seeing the Viscount, and worse yet, that he had seen her as a servant in his cousin’s home before she could inform him of that fact herself. Elizabeth’s emotions had been thrown into turmoil. She was humiliated, angry and grieved, yet still she had to carry on in her role as governess to the young boy who remained oblivious to the tension between the two adults. The park was filled with people and Robert quickly joined a group of children chasing each other through the grass. Elizabeth found it difficult to keep her attention on his activities, thoughts frequently bringing her back to the man she’d left behind in the house; two men who in all likelihood were discussing her at that very moment. Then a touch on her arm startled her and she looked up into the concerned face of the very man she’d been afraid to hope she might see again. His first words quickly calmed her racing heart as he was full of genuine sensitivity for her plight. At any other time Elizabeth would have been offended to be seen as a woman in need of a sympathetic ear but, with no other in whom she could confide, the offer from Fitzwilliam seemed a blessing. Surely he was aware of his cousin’s prior attachment, her refusal and could understand the untenable position now existing. His steady presence was a comfort.

As if that hadn’t been enough, the encounter with Mr. Bingley had rekindled all of Elizabeth’s former anger with Mr. Darcy. Not content with merely separating his friend from Jane, the man had gone so far as to secure his own sister’s future at the expense of others’ feelings. Poor Jane had been heartbroken and it appeared that Mr. Bingley had not been any less so, yet Mr. Darcy was unrepentant. Elizabeth did not know how she managed to remain civil with him but the presence of Lady Sophia and the children may have been the only reason she held her tongue.

Elizabeth thought it possible to slip out of the house on Tuesday morning without being noticed but had not counted on the large number of servants whose duties required them to rise earlier than herself. Arriving in the kitchen, she was greeted with the sights and smells of breakfast being prepared. Fresh bread was just emerging from the oven while fruit filled pastries were going in. Her stomach betrayed her with a growl; she had no wish to loiter despite the allure of the food. She was expected in Gracechurch Street to share the morning repast with her relatives.

“There, Miss Bennet!” cried Mrs. McAuley, noticing the young woman as she paused in the doorway. “Come sit down and have a cup of tea, lass. It’s not often we see you down here.”

Many of the other faces turned away as if to say they would rather not see the governess down there at all. Elizabeth did not care, although the cook was a kind enough woman and she did not want to offend her. “Thank you, Mrs. McAuley, but I am just on my way out for the day.”

“With nothing to fill your stomach?” the other woman persisted. “Nay, you must have something afore you go.”

A smile came easily in response to this good-natured woman. “I will be quite alright, I assure you. Thank you anyway. My uncle is sending his carriage to collect me and I will be joining his family for breakfast this morning.”

“Save your energy for making the Master a big breakfast, Bridget,” the sly tones of Frederick called out. “I think he’ll be having a big appetite this morning.”

The cook narrowed a suspicious gaze at the young footman. She would not ask the question but the temptation for the young housemaids was too much. “Why is that, Fred?” one of them ventured.

The young man leaned toward the suddenly blushing girl and said in a whisper intended for all to hear, “Why, he sure didn’t sleep in his own bed last night, that’s all. I was up there this morning to stoke the fire in the grate and there was no sign. The bed was turned down just as Fitch had left it the night before.” He finished with a lewd wink for the other maids who were listening.

“Frederick!” Mrs. McAuley snapped. “I’ll not have you corrupting my girls with that kind of talk. Be off with you and take your tales to the stables where you might find them welcome. Plenty of that on the ends of the shovels.” She turned to Elizabeth to see the young lady was red with embarrassment. “Oh, my dear,” she soothed. “Pay him no heed. The lad is brash, to be sure, but he means no harm. A scamp he is, our Frederick.”

“Are you ruining my reputation, Bridget?” the footman enquired with a grin.

“You need no help from me, Frederick, and it’s Mrs. McAuley to you! Disrespectful into the bargain, too. If the Master only knew the things you say!” She shook her head despairingly.

He spread his hands out in a gesture of helpless innocence. “I was only trying to be helpful to you Brid... Mrs. McAuley. Thought you’d like to have some warning to prepare a big meal today for a change.”

His manners worked their charm. The cook’s expression softened. “That is good to hear, indeed. Mr. Darcy’s appetite has been off since he returned from the North. I would like to see him eating properly again.” She put her hand on her chin, tapping one finger thoughtfully. “What could he be tempted with today?” she murmured.

“Now that you mention it, Mrs. McAuley,” Frederick laughed, “perhaps you’d best hold off on cooking just yet. Might be some time before they be asking for breakfast to be sent up.”

Elizabeth hurried from the kitchen, Frederick’s laughter echoing in her ears.

Sunlight streamed across the bedcovers in the late morning hours. Sophia had been awake for some time already, contemplating her husband’s sleeping form. The lines that formed on his brow during the day had disappeared, whatever worried him did not seem to trouble his sleep. She smiled at the memory of the previous night. Success could be measured on many scales and Sophia was satisfied that she had succeeded in distracting him even if it was for only one night. That she’d had his undivided attention she was certain. It lent her confidence to face another full day.

Slipping out from under the blankets, she went into the dressing room to ring for her maid. When the servant appeared, Sophia quickly ordered breakfast to be sent up, then returned to her chamber where she stood for a few moments admiring Darcy’s exposed form. He had shifted position since she had left the warm bed, his body now sprawled across the surface with the covers in disarray. She was reluctant to disturb him; the scene reminded her too much of their early months together. However, she knew the meal would not be long in arriving and she preferred to wake her husband herself than have him disturbed by the servant’s entrance. Once again she slid under the sheet, enjoying the warmth radiating from Darcy’s body. Sophia snuggled closer, smiling as his arm draped across her and pulled her against his chest. She let out a quiet moan of contentment before whispering, “I have ordered our breakfast.”

She felt him move away a little and so she rolled over to face him. Despite the sleep still clouding his gaze, she saw the lines beginning to form on his brow. Quickly, Sophia placed a finger to his lips. “We will eat first.” She finished the thought with a kiss rather than words.

Knowing Elizabeth’s love of the outdoors and that she would have few opportunities to indulge it in her position as a governess, Mrs. Gardiner suggested that the young people take a walk through the nearby park. It was small yet quite pretty and Elizabeth knew it well after years of visits to her uncle’s house. Jane accompanied the couple, her eldest cousin, ten year old Hannah, finishing up the party of four.

Jane liked the Viscount. There were few people she did not like but his cheerful manner and warm sense of humour she found endearing and hoped that her sister did, too. It was quite obvious that the gentleman admired Lizzy and from the whispered conversations and knowing looks that had been shared between their aunt and uncle, Jane was certain their approval and consent had already been sought.

“Look at these pretty blooms, Hannah,” Jane said, directing her cousin’s attention away from the others and increasing the distance between them so that Lizzy and her suitor could have more private conversation.

Fitzwilliam immediately noticed and was grateful for Miss Bennet’s thoughtfulness. He had not had any opportunity for a private word with Elizabeth since that afternoon in the park outside Darcy’s home. At that time he was interested in assuring her of his continuing regard. Now he wanted to broach the subject of matrimony but in a delicate manner.

“Miss Bennet,” he began, his smile radiating warmth, “may I now tell you how lovely you look today? I cannot imagine a more beautiful sight on a day such as this.”

Elizabeth laughed gently. “Are you so uniformly charming with all the ladies, sir?”

“Not at all,” he said with more seriousness. “I reserve the best compliments only for those truly deserving of them.” Looking over his shoulder briefly, Fitzwilliam was satisfied that Jane and Hannah remained far enough away not to overhear his next words. “I recently gave you to understand the direction in which my heart lies, Miss Bennet. I would dearly love to bestow upon you the grandest, most romantic courtship you could imagine. However, time is of the essence, as you are aware. My mind was made up long ago but I do not know your heart, my dearest lady. I stand before you, a humble and hopeful suitor, without desire to press you before you are ready to hear my words.” He looked longingly into her eyes, attempting to read their depths and find a hint of her thoughts. “Is it your wish that I continue or that I say no more at this time?”

Elizabeth suddenly found herself unable to breathe. She could not believe her ears and struggled to form a coherent reply. She was astonished to see the emotion so visible in his very expression. Her breath returned in a rush. “I had no idea you felt so strongly, sir. I am... at a loss. I cannot imagine what I have done to inspire such admiration in you!”

“What you have done!” he cried, carefully keeping his voice quiet enough not to carry. “Why, Miss Bennet, you have been yourself; charming, refreshing and beautiful. How could I resist? You are sweet temptation itself in a world filled with many who labour to appear so, yet yours is effortless.”

Feeling her heart racing, Elizabeth bade him continue.

“So it was when first we met at Rosings. I was enchanted from the start yet could offer you nothing but the unimportance of an officer’s wife.” Fitzwilliam saw her smile but could not know that she thought a particular officer’s wife an important role, indeed. “I can think of no greater honour than that you would accept my offer of marriage, Miss Bennet. Will you grant me this wish by becoming my wife?”

From the moment he had begun his speech Elizabeth expected the question but hearing it aloud brought a fresh sense of excitement. Choosing her words as carefully as had the gentleman, she replied, “I am the one who is honoured, sir. If it does not offend you, however, I would ask that you allow me some time to consider your offer.” Her teeth pressed gently against her lower lip. “I do not wish to appear impetuous in accepting you lest it seem I do so to hasten the resolution of the situation to which you previously alluded.”

Fitzwilliam smiled, understanding her reply to indicate more presence of mind than the possibility of a refusal. “I have not the least intention of rushing you into a decision, Miss Bennet. Please take all the time you require.” His eyes twinkled teasingly. “Just remember that every moment I wait will be one more before I commence breathing again.”

All tension left her as Elizabeth laughed. Behind her, Jane looked up at the sound, delighted to see a glimpse of her sister’s naturally carefree manner. Since their father’s death there had been few occasions for laughter and she had sorely missed the liveliness that had formerly been ever present in Elizabeth’s disposition. If the gentleman could restore Lizzy’s sparkle and wit then he had Jane’s blessing as well.

Bingley returned as promised, that very afternoon, with the foundation of a plan that would restore peace of mind to not only the two eldest Bennet sisters but to their entire family. Closeted with Darcy for several hours, the two finally emerged pleased with their collaborative effort and eager to get started. Bingley stayed long enough to pay his respects to Sophia but declined her invitation to dine with them. After he left, Sophia took note of Darcy’s improved mood and despite her curiosity refrained from making any comment. The day had been enjoyable thus far, from the pleasure of waking up next to her husband, breakfasting in bed and spending the afternoon with her children. Sophia felt as if she’d stepped back in time, to an earlier point in her marriage.... before the governess had come into their home. She could not deny that the absence of Miss Bennet had brought her great relief and judging by her husband’s lighter spirits it may have been just what he needed as well. Blushing a little, Sophia considered that her attentions to him the previous evening and early that morning could also have been responsible for his frequent smiles and laughter during the day. He had plainly been in need of a distraction and his wife was happy to have provided it.

After Bingley’s departure, Darcy excused himself on an urgent errand, assuring Sophia that he would return before dinner. She smiled at his retreating back, lips still warm from his kiss.

Elizabeth could feel several pairs of eyes on her throughout dinner. Only one pair made her blush; the others caused her to smile. She knew that an interrogation was inevitable when the ladies left the gentlemen to their port at the conclusion of the meal and it was Jane who began.

“Lizzy, it is dreadful of me to ask but what happened? Did he make you an offer? Are you engaged?”

Elizabeth could not help but be amused. “Jane! We’ve only just renewed our acquaintance after more than two years.”

“Now, Lizzy,” scolded her aunt. “Do not tease us so. We have eyes. We can see how he feels. Besides, he has already been given your uncle’s permission.” She laughed at Elizabeth’s delighted expression.

“I had no idea,” she said in awe.

“Of course you didn’t. We haven’t seen you since that one visit for tea. When could you have been informed?” Mrs. Gardiner peered more closely at her niece. “But you still haven’t answered Jane’s question.”

“I’m beginning to suspect that I shall not be left alone whether I answer or not!” laughed Elizabeth. “Very well, I shall tell you. He did propose. I confess that it took me by surprise but he expressed himself so well, so eloquently.” She sighed.

Jane reached out to embrace her sister. “I am very pleased for you!”

Mrs. Gardiner took Elizabeth’s hand in hers, gently patting the back of it. “He’s a fine young man, Lizzy. I believe you’ll both be very happy.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth said, her eyes round, “but I did not yet give him my answer.”

Jane’s hand flew to her mouth but their aunt nodded sagely. “Very wise. You are taking care to make sure you accept him because you want to, not because you have to. Is that correct?”

“Yes, Aunt.” Elizabeth sighed with relief. “If I may, I would like to speak with you and my uncle after Richard leaves this evening.”

“Richard, is it?” Mrs. Gardiner and Jane exchanged knowing smiles.

Colour rose in Elizabeth’s cheeks. “It was becoming very tedious referring to him as your Lordship.” Then her lips turned upwards in a mischievous smile. “It embarrasses him to hear me call him that so I think I’ll reserve its use for times I’d like to tease him.”

The gentlemen entered the room to the sound of ladies’ laughter. Fitzwilliam immediately took up a position next to Elizabeth, providing that lady with the opportunity to further her knowledge of his character. She could not recall the last time she’d spent such a delightful evening. The conversation was entertaining and intelligent, everyone having their share. Before she knew it the clock had struck eight and Elizabeth nearly jumped up from her seat.

“Oh, no!” she cried.

“What is it?” several voices asked at once.

“I must go, I’ll be late!” she fretted, beginning to pace to and fro while looking for her things. “What will Lady Sophia say?”

“Calm yourself, Lizzy,” said her aunt, seeing Mr. Gardiner had already called for the servant. “All will be well.”

“I shall see you home,” Fitzwilliam said with an air of finality.

“No, you shouldn’t!” objected Elizabeth.

The servant appeared and the Viscount turned to address him. “Please inform my coachman to ready the horses to leave in five minutes.”

“Five minutes!” The servant was astonished. “Yes, sir,” he said, hurrying from the room.

Jane helped her sister gather her belongings together, attempting to soothe Elizabeth’s distress. “Do not worry so, Lizzy.” Her voice was quiet enough that no other could hear. “Just remember that soon it will not matter for you will be married and no longer need be concerned about Lady Sophia’s opinion. I know you will accept him, Lizzy. You are too cheerful in his presence to do otherwise.” Her tender smile was all that was required to reveal Elizabeth’s.

Fitzwilliam’s coachman was efficient even if more than five minutes was needed to ready the carriage. She seated herself inside the luxurious compartment without a second thought, her goodbyes to family having been said inside the house. Once they were underway Fitzwilliam hastened to again reassure her. “It will not take us long to get there.”

“Mrs. Fletcher is very strict,” Elizabeth murmured. “She will have the servant’s door locked at half past eight.”

“Well,” he replied with a sparkling eye, “I shall just have to take you in through the front door if that is the case.”

“You wouldn’t!” Laughter quickly replaced her horror as she pictured the faces of the other staff who might witness her arrival. “Let us hope it does not come to that.”

“There is one small matter that must be settled before our journey ends. When may I see you again? Friday afternoon?” He looked at her hopefully.

Elizabeth mentally calculated her schedule. “I do not have another half day until –.”

“Never mind half days,” said Fitzwilliam with a wave of his hand. “I shall come on Friday and if you take Robby to the park we may meet there. I’ll speak with Darcy. He’ll make sure nothing interferes with our plans.” Satisfied, he nodded but kept to himself the hope that the lady would have an answer for him by then.

Elizabeth agreed but asked him to put off speaking to Darcy unless a problem arose. She preferred not to reveal a need for his influence. The remainder of their time was spent more pleasantly. Fitzwilliam took her hand in his, lightly caressing its back while his eyes and lips smiled warmly. Despite the intimacy of the compartment, and of the gentleman’s attentions, Elizabeth felt perfectly comfortable.

The dining room was quiet but for the occasional clink of the china. Sophia held her wine glass in front of her, watching Darcy over the rim of the crystal. He was preoccupied but not in the way he had been the last few days. Gone was the frown which had marked his countenance from morning until night. He appeared more thoughtful than troubled. “My dear,” she finally said, “Georgiana has promised to come tomorrow so we may begin planning the wedding.”

Darcy looked up, startled from his rumination. “She is?” A relieved smile appeared on his face. “Good. Has she made a decision on the date or location?”

Sophia shook her head. “I do not know that as yet. She sent me a note today asking me if I was available tomorrow to help her. I know your preference is the chapel at Pemberley, Fitzwilliam.”

“I shall endeavour to be less unreasonable on that point.” The frown threatened to reappear. “Sophia,” he said at last, “I intended to apologise to you last night for the manner in which I addressed you yesterday morning. I know your concern was for my welfare when you suggested we leave for Pemberley as soon as possible. You could not know that I have business that must be completed before I leave London. I am sorry for being so harsh. It was unforgivable of me to speak to you like that.” Her astonishment to hear his words was great and must have shown on her face for he continued. “There have been some matters demanding my attention recently, not all of them pleasant. I regret that I have allowed my frustration to affect my conduct with you.”

His wife considered her response. “Is Charles involved in any way? I cannot help but wonder when he visited you twice yesterday and then again today.”

The question was unexpected. Darcy did not realise she was aware of Bingley’s prior visits and his face registered his surprise. “He and Georgiana wondered what I knew of Fitzwilliam’s recent attachment. Apparently Fitzwilliam has filled my sister’s head with all manner of romantic tales about his future plans.”

“I had the impression that you do not wholly approve of your cousin’s choice,” Sophia stated with care. “Are you acquainted with her?”

“Yes,” he said with deliberation. Eyes flicking toward the footman standing near the doorway, Darcy added, “Let us discuss that in greater detail after dinner.” At Pemberley, with his own servants, he would be more confident of their discretion with overheard conversations in the dining room. Nothing had been said so far that he worried about being repeated below stairs. The servants were hardly unaware of their disagreement the previous day, after all. The situation with Miss Bennet was another matter entirely. Darcy was not prepared to risk even one word escaping to be bandied about amongst the staff.

Sophia’s eyebrows rose slightly but she did not pursue the topic. Instead, she returned to the subject of Georgiana’s visit. “Would you care to join me when your sister arrives tomorrow or would you rather absent yourself from such feminine matters?”

Darcy’s smile made an appearance. “I will stay long enough for a cup of tea before I leave you to your talk of lace and gowns.”

Laughing, his wife scolded him. “There is more to a wedding than lace and gowns, Fitzwilliam! I shall keep a dutiful record of our decisions after you have abandoned us, however.”

The clearing of the plates commenced and the final dish was served. Darcy began to formulate in his mind the words he would use to apprise Sophia of Miss Bennet’s impending departure.

Fortunately the door had not yet been locked. Elizabeth quickly let herself in, one last look toward the street where Fitzwilliam stood. He bowed slightly, then she was gone. Briefly he considered going inside to speak with Darcy but just as quickly discarded the idea. The day had been delightful and he did not want to spoil the lingering effect by exposure to his cousin’s customary dour mood. He directed his driver to take him home.

As the carriage disappeared down the lane, Darcy turned from the window where he had just witnessed Fitzwilliam and Miss Bennet exchange sweet goodbyes. His posture was straight and stiff when he addressed Sophia. “I could not predict your reaction to this information,” he said,

“and felt it better to prepare you before Fitzwilliam actually proposed.” “Really, my dear, it’s not the first time a servant has left our employ.”

Darcy’s expression remained stony. “It is the first time one will leave our employ to become part of our family.”

What bothers you the most about this? Is it her leaving or the fact that she’s marrying your cousin? She attempted to appear unperturbed by picking up a book from a nearby table and leafing through the pages. “How on earth did they meet?”

“She has not always been in service, Sophia. This is, in fact, her first position.”

Sophia did not wonder anymore at the odd manners of the girl. She seemed at times to be reminding herself of her place, as if more accustomed to giving orders than receiving them. “Is that why you disapprove? Her family’s situation has fallen well below what Richard could otherwise expect to achieve.”

“Her family never held such status. Fitzwilliam is in love and that is his only concern.” The telltale frown was heavily engraved.

There it is again; love and your distaste for the sentiment. “What about his father? Surely the Earl will have something to say about his son’s choice.” Sophia could not believe Lord Matlock would approve of this match once he understood Miss Bennet’s lack of fortune or connections.

Darcy shrugged his shoulders. “My uncle has not the strength of will he once possessed. Since the death of his eldest son he has been more resigned to preparing the younger to assume the title than concerning himself with more personal family matters. If he voices any objection it will have no effect on his son, anyway.”

It had been quite the opposite in Hudson’s family. Sophia recalled the numerous questions put forth by Hudson’s relations when she had accepted Darcy’s offer of marriage. They were intent upon ensuring the suitability of his character and situation to providing the proper environment for young Robert to be raised. At times she wondered what would have happened had they disapproved of Darcy. “It is all well and good if Richard can make a love match,” she finally said. After all, her first marriage had been such a one. “It is clear that he loves the young woman but what are her feelings for him?”

“I have no idea.” His fingers restlessly tapped on the arm of his chair.

“Of course you do not, my dear, but Richard must have given you some notion of what he thinks she feels.”

Again Darcy shrugged. “He admits there is an unequal degree of attachment but believes Miss Bennet at least holds him in a favourable regard.”

“Hmm.” She was not completely convinced. “What if he is merely infatuated and in a year’s time regrets his impulsiveness?”

Her husband gave a short laugh. “Do not doubt the veracity of his declaration, Sophia. Fitzwilliam’s feelings are genuine enough. He will not be easily swayed from the object of his affections.”

Studying him curiously for a moment, his wife considered if that description applied to Darcy as well. “You appear to have an answer to every one of my questions. I suppose there is nothing left but to give them our blessing.”

“Do you want to give them your blessing?” he asked. “You have not yet told me your opinion. Would you be able to accept Miss Bennet in this house as an equal after she marries Fitzwilliam?”

That was a difficult question.

Continued In Next Section