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Chapter Six

Sir Percy couldn't have picked a better day for his garden party as the day dawned bright and progressed into a beautiful afternoon. While approaching the steps and ascending up to the door, Elizabeth wished she had not agreed to attend. Throughout the morning she had felt apprehensive about this gathering, and that feeling still gnawed at her.

"Elizabeth, you look radiant today." Sir Percy took her hand in his and kissed it. "I'm so glad you've made it."

"Did you worry that I wouldn't be here?"

"I had my doubts. After all, I did take you out for fast food...I was afraid you had lost all respect for me." He grinned.

"Dinner was fine ... it was a delightful evening."

"A prudent response."

"Our night out was delightful." She gave the hand that still held hers a squeeze. "Did I neglect to tell you? I adore English fish and chips - that is why I'm living here, you know." She winked and squeezed his hand again before removing it from his grip.

He laughed loudly, charmed by Elizabeth's ability to set others at ease. "Come, let me introduce you to my brother and his wife." With Elizabeth by his side, Sir Percy approached a middle-aged man, slightly taller and less handsome in comparison to himself, but with strikingly similar features. "Geoffrey, I'd like you to meet Elizabeth Bennet. She's the newest addition to our society here in Lambton."

"A pleasure to meet you." Geoffrey Rutherford extended his hand.

Elizabeth took his hand and was surprised by his firm grip. "Likewise. Your brother has shared many stories about you."

"I can only imagine what's he has told you, but don't give credence to what he says - he tends to overstate his suffering at my hand." Geoffrey winked at Elizabeth.

Before his brother could attempt to embarrass him, Sir Percy asked, "Where is Anne? She was with you a moment ago."

"Were you looking for me, Percy?" A plain looking woman joined the small group.

"Anne. Perfect timing, as usual." Sir Percy turned toward Elizabeth and placed his hand on her arm. "Allow me to introduce Elizabeth Bennet."

After the introduction, Anne Rutherford and Elizabeth exchanged quick, civil greetings and engaged in minimal conversation before Sir Percy saw some old friends and hurried Elizabeth away to meet them. Mr. Graham Oliver and his wife Suzanne were introduced to Elizabeth and she once again shared pleasantries with complete strangers.

Sir Percy was soon called away to greet more arriving guests, leaving Elizabeth in the company of the couple. After only a few minutes discussion Elizabeth discovered that Suzanne was a timid and quiet woman and that her husband enjoyed talking whether anybody listened or not.

"...so there I was, standing in front of the group with no notes or visual aids. You can only guess what I was feeling. But let me tell you what I did..." Graham droned on.

Elizabeth stood, trying not to look as bored as she felt, occasionally nodding her head in his direction until he was interrupted by the arrival of Charlotte and Collins. Never was Elizabeth more pleased to see her friend, or even Collins, as he quickly engaged Graham in dialogue, freeing Elizabeth from this tedious company.

"Charlotte, please, I need something to drink." She quickly excused herself from their conversation.

Charlotte remained with her husband after indicating to Elizabeth that she would join her later.

Elizabeth retreated to find a drink then looked for an out of the way place along the garden path where she could avoid unwanted encounters. Why did I come here? How soon can I leave?

As she rambled through the garden, rich in aromatic blooms, she became startled when Fitzwilliam addressed her. "Elizabeth, I'm so glad to see you here," he spoke softly, gently taking hold of her arm leading her further down the path.

She smiled, genuinely pleased to see him.

"How are you? A moment ago you looked unwell." His expression bore concern.

"I'm well enough." She grimaced.

He chuckled. "I see that you enjoy these gatherings as much as I do."

"If you dislike them so much, then why did you come?" she asked with a raised brow and a mischievous tone.

Fitzwilliam looked deeply into her eyes. "I came looking for extraordinary companionship."

Breaking from his gaze, Elizabeth turned to continue their stroll through the garden. He followed silently, not wanting to say anything that would reveal how much he had missed seeing her, speaking to her, just being near her.

"I'm certain Sir Percy's guests will provide you with the company you desire." She focused on the path ahead.

"Yes, I'm certain they will." He looked intently at her, willing her to meet his gaze.

Elizabeth raised her eyes toward him and was surprised by the depth of his expression. I've only known him two weeks - why does his gaze affect me this way? She steadied her breathing, and, trying to ignore the hammering of her heart and the rush of heat to her cheeks, she attempted to change the subject. "I enjoyed meeting your son the other day. How is Ian?"

"Ian is very well, thank you." He smiled. She is positively fetching when she blushes. "He was quite taken with you. He's hardly spoken of anything else since then."

"I had no idea I made such an impression on him." She thought back on her enjoyable conversation with his son.

"You should hardly be surprised to have earned his esteem." He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. "You have an amazing effect on the Darcy men."

He pulled back and watched her blush once again while averting her eyes. He smiled broadly, taking pleasure in the effects he was having on this charming woman. Ever since he met her, she had occupied many of his thoughts. She had even managed to dominate his subconscious, as he found himself waking each morning with images of her waltzing through his head.

Embarrassed at her girlish reaction to his proximity and flirtatious comments, she avoided his gaze. What is wrong with you, Elizabeth? You are a grown woman, yet you're acting like a silly young girl. She scolded herself then lifted her chin, and taking a deep breath, prepared to improve her performance. What is that he's wearing? He smells so nice.

She sighed inwardly, then trying to strengthen her fading resolve, she straightened her shoulders and once again turned to look him in the eye. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she said in a cheeky manner, a weak attempt to guard against his ability to unnerve her.

"I have no doubt you will."

"Fitz. There you are," a female voice called, causing both Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam to direct their attention towards it.

"Anne." Fitzwilliam greeted her with a familiar embrace. Anne Rutherford was about Elizabeth's height and close to her age. Her auburn hair, cut short, framed her ashen face, which bore a pair of deep-set green eyes the exact color of Fitzwilliam's.

"When did you sneak in? I've been watching for you." She pulled back from their embrace but took hold of both his hands.

"I've only just arrived. How are you?"

"I'm well, and happy to be here." Anne smiled as she released his hands and made a wide sweeping motion with her arm.

"I hope you'll be staying longer this time."

"Just a few days. You know Geoffrey has a terrible time breaking away from work," she replied with some irritation.

"How is Geoffrey? I haven't seen him in ages." Fitzwilliam looked in the direction of the house, scanning to see Anne's husband.

"Geoffrey is Geoffrey. He's constantly working, even while on holiday."

"And Moira and Evie? They are well, I hope."

"Yes. Well and busy, and costing me a fortune." She grimaced in mock pain. "How is Ian? I'm sure he's grown a foot and is running you ragged."

"He's doing well - still bouncing off the walls with endless energy. It's rough on an old man like me."

Anne laughed at his remark, then became serious. "I saw Hugh last week. When was the last time you saw him?"

"You saw Hugh? How was he? Was Cecilia with him?" he asked, suddenly agitated.

"I didn't see Cecilia. I'm sure she wouldn't have spoken to me if I had. She's not exactly pleased to see any of your relations, as you well know."

Elizabeth had been quietly standing back, listening to this exchange, wondering if she should just slip away. The conversation was almost cryptic, arousing her sense of curiosity, so she decided to stay.

Anne continued. "Hugh is very angry - angry at you, Fitz."

He sighed and raked his hand through his hair, then became aware that Elizabeth was still next to him. Turning to Elizabeth, he asked, "Have you met Anne?"

"Yes, we were introduced." Elizabeth gave Anne a polite smile.

"Right. Elizabeth isn't it?" Anne reciprocated.

Elizabeth couldn't decide if she liked Anne or not. Perhaps it's too soon to tell. She decided to wait before pronouncing judgment.

As the threesome resumed walking, the conversation changed its course and Fitzwilliam's affairs were no longer the focus of it. When they had completed their circuit of the garden path, Elizabeth seized the opportunity to excuse herself. Before she left their company Fitzwilliam brushed his fingertips down her arm and took hold of her hand. "We'll continue our discussion later." He smiled, then freed her hand from his.

"Until later." She pivoted on her heel and walked away with buoyancy in her step.

Charlotte intercepted her as she strode toward the house. "Elizabeth, where have you been? I've been looking all over for you."

"I've been in the garden, Charlotte," she responded with an arched brow. "After all, it is a garden party."

"Droll. Very droll." Charlotte rolled her eyes. "The question is, what have you been doing in the garden?"

Before Elizabeth could answer, a tall, attractive, dark-haired woman interrupted them. "So, Charlotte. Is this the famous Elizabeth Bennet?" she asked with an imperceptible sneer.

"Why yes, Caroline. Let me introduce you. This is Elizabeth Bennet." Charlotte looked at her friend. "Elizabeth, may I introduce Caroline Darcy."

Although surprised to hear the woman's name, Elizabeth articulated a polite response. "I'm happy to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise, I'm sure," Caroline replied with a definite sneer, causing the fine features of her face to diminish.

"Caroline, I haven't seen you lately. How are you?" Charlotte tried to fend off her potential attack on Elizabeth. Charlotte had overheard Caroline's conversation with Portia Stansbury, and it was apparent that she had a strong dislike for Elizabeth although Charlotte didn't know from where it stemmed.

"It's completely obvious how I am, Charlotte." The scowl on Caroline's face deepened, as did the harshness of her voice. "I don't know why you would need to ask."

Elizabeth observed Caroline and wondered at the hostility she bore towards Charlotte and even herself. A character trait? Or just a bad day? Either way, it is totally unwarranted.

"So, Eliza, I understand you've been spending time with Fitz." Caroline directed her venom at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth remained calm. "I fail to see why that would be a concern of yours."

"Oh, I'm sure you do," was her vitriolic response. "You may think..."

"Caroline," Charlotte interrupted, "I think there may be some misunderstanding here."

"Stay out of this, Charlotte!" Caroline snapped.

"Stay out of what?" Elizabeth asked, bewildered.

"Don't pretend you don't know." Caroline's voice became louder, drawing the attention of those nearby.

"There is no need to pretend, I honestly don't know what you're referring to." Elizabeth was incredulous - she shook her head in disbelief at this outrageous encounter.

"You can affect innocence, but I know your motives." Caroline was practically snarling these words as she neared Elizabeth, towering over her. "Let me give you some friendly advice." Elizabeth didn't flex a muscle as the taller woman edged closer. "Keep away from my..."

"Your what, Caroline?" Fitzwilliam's voice broke in.

Caroline's eyes widened as she turned toward him. Elizabeth continued glaring at this offensive woman.

Fitzwilliam spoke tersely. "I think you've said quite enough, Caroline." He grabbed hold of her arm and led her into the house.

"But, Fitz...Fitz," she stammered.

He paid no heed and continued walking to the privacy of the house.

Caroline screeched at him. "Get your hand off me, you..."

He stopped abruptly. "Don't you dare," he said menacingly, then ushered her inside.

Elizabeth never blinked throughout this entire ordeal until Caroline was no longer visible to her. Her shoulders relaxed as she let out a sigh.

"Elizabeth, are you okay?" Concerned for her friend, Charlotte took hold of Elizabeth's arm and led her to a garden bench.

"That was interesting." Elizabeth wore a perplexed expression. "Do you suppose I might discover what it was about?"

"Caroline has always been hot-tempered."

"And ill-mannered?"

Charlotte laughed. "As long as I've known her."

"So, whom exactly does she want me to stay away from?" Elizabeth queried.

"I suppose she wants you to keep away from Fitz."

"Fitzwilliam? Why should she care if I see Fitzwilliam?"

"She was married to him, you know."

"The key word being was." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Do you know why they divorced?"

"I still don't know why they married!" Charlotte chuckled and shifted on the bench to face Elizabeth. "Fitz doesn't ever talk about it, but I think he married Caroline on the rebound from his first marriage. She was pretty and attentive, and he was despondent and in need of company. I don't think he knew what he was getting himself into when they rushed to the altar."

"Not a very happy marriage then."

"Seven years of misery is what Fitz has told Percy."

Elizabeth crossed her legs and leaned back. "So...if it was an unhappy marriage, and a nasty divorce...why would Caroline care if I see Fitzwilliam? She obviously despises him."

"She does."

"But she still claims him as her own." Looking over to the window, Elizabeth could see Fitzwilliam and Caroline involved in a heated discussion inside the house.

"She is a very jealous and possessive woman." Charlotte followed Elizabeth's gaze, then turned a curious look toward her friend. "I didn't know you had been seeing Fitz."

Elizabeth cringed inwardly. "I'm not."

"Apparently Caroline thinks you are. Where might she get that idea?"

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders and raised her brow feigning a look of innocence.

"Elizabeth? What have you not been telling me?"

"Nothing. I've told you everything involving Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth exclaimed. Everything I want you to know at least. "People often read things into situations that aren't actually there."

"But why would Caroline think you are dating Fitz? Have you seen him outside of the running accident?" Charlotte suspected that Elizabeth was hiding something from her.

"He came by to return the clothes he borrowed."

"Yes, you told me that," Charlotte reminded her. "Is that all that has happened?"

"He wanted to buy me dinner to repay me for my trouble." Elizabeth was reluctant to reveal the whole of her encounter with Fitzwilliam.

Charlotte's eyes widened. "You neglected to mention that. What else has taken place?"

"I really don't see the point in all of this, Charlotte." Elizabeth was getting defensive. "I'm not in love with him, nor am I interested in pursuing him."

"I didn't ask if you were. I was just wondering if you had seen him often."

Elizabeth hesitated before answering. "I've seen him a few times."

Charlotte tried to hide her surprise. "Really?" She wasn't successful.

"Yes. We had dinner together...he's stopped by my house two or three times. He even brought his son with him once."

Charlotte sat in amazement. "I see...that would explain how Caroline knew about you." A slow smile crept on her face as she wondered what Elizabeth's true feelings were regarding Fitz. Not wanting to pressure her friend into divulging those feelings, she simply added, "You're right, people do have a tendency to read things into situations."

Elizabeth agreed, happy to no longer be speaking about her activities with Fitzwilliam. Her greatest desire now was to be home, away from all these people and the talk that had spread throughout the party after her altercation with Caroline. But she stayed, held her head high and acted as if she was unfazed by the egregious event.

"Have you had any more recurring dreams? Charlotte ventured, trying to rally Elizabeth's mood.

Elizabeth thought for a moment. "Yes, twice this week I have."

"I'm so terribly sorry you had to endure that." Sir Percy's expression was filled with regret and compassion as he stood in the entrance hall with Elizabeth.

Her good humor had been taxed to its limit with social bandying and she was now preparing to quietly leave. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine." Elizabeth cast a reassuring smile.

"Are you certain that I can't get you anything? You look ill." He took her hand in his. "Why don't you sit while you wait for your ride?" He motioned toward a comfortable looking chair in the nearby drawing room.

"No, thank you. Really, I'm fine."

"If you're certain..."

"I am. You should get back to the party. You're neglecting your guests."

Sir Percy reluctantly released her hand and backed away from her. "I'll stop by to see you this week."

She smiled weakly. "That would be nice."

He stood momentarily still with a thoughtful expression on his face as though he were weighing out an important decision. Leaning forward, he placed a tender kiss on her cheek and hesitantly pulled back. "Good bye, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth waved her hand in response and turned to wait in the drawing room for Ralph's arrival. As she reached the room, she looked up and was startled by Fitzwilliam standing just inside the doorway. Her hand quickly rose to her chest as she gasped. "Fitzwilliam! You scared me." She took a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing. "I didn't see you in here."

"I imagine you didn't." His countenance was impassive. "Are you leaving?"

"Yes. Ralph is on his way to bring me home."

"I suppose we can continue our discussion another time since you are anxious to escape."

There was an edge to his voice that Elizabeth couldn't understand. She opened her mouth to respond, but Fitzwilliam cut her off. "I hope you are soon feeling better. I won't keep you. Good evening, Elizabeth."

As he turned to leave she suppressed the urge to call him back, not certain if she wished him to stay or to go. The sound of his footsteps faded down the hall. Left alone with her conflicting thoughts, she was grateful upon hearing the sound of a car on the drive.

Elizabeth sat at her dressing table looking into the mirror as she combed her damp hair. As soon as she arrived home she went upstairs to her room and decided that a long, hot, relaxing bath was what she needed to elevate her spirits. Now, as she sat gazing at her reflection she realized that the bath had only soothed her body, not her soul.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her open hand, pondering the events of the day, more specifically her encounters at the party. I knew I shouldn't have gone - nothing good came of it. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply recalling her introduction to Caroline. Fitzwilliam has said so little about her...I had no idea she could be so horrid. Why did I even go? Lifting her head, she arched her back and stretched; trying to relieve the tension she felt building. A low-pitched groan escaped from within her as she placed her elbows on the tabletop and cradled her head in her hands. And Fitzwilliam's behavior...what was that all about? He was so sweet when we first spoke. But when I was leaving...why did he act like such a...She looked up into the mirror. Oh, I don't know...such a ...jerk.

Deciding that she no longer desired to think about it, she shifted in her chair to reach into the bottom drawer and noticed the bag Fitzwilliam had given her on Wednesday. It was situated on the far edge of her dressing table with the bottle still wrapped inside. She had placed it there that evening after dinner with him, not certain of how she felt about it - and there it remained.

Picking up the bag, she opened it and withdrew the perfume bottle. After unwrapping it she held it up to view. Recollections of her evening out with Fitzwilliam came flooding back, only adding to her confusion. She quickly wrapped the bottle, placed it back in its bag and set it on the corner of the dressing table, then stood to prepare herself for bed.

Chapter Seven

A restless, dream-filled night enveloped Elizabeth, causing her to wake early feeling agitated and unsettled. She wandered about upstairs, not wanting to encounter Bessie below, preferring her solitude.

She entered the room Jonas had used as an office. Sitting in the large leather chair at the desk, she noted how bare the desktop looked. It never looked like this when he was alive. She laughed softly with a slight bitterness. Now was not the time to be reflecting on her loss, as it would certainly stir the angry thoughts she struggled to keep from budding within her. Leaning her head back on the chair, she inhaled deeply and could almost smell him there. The scent of his musky cologne lingered in her memory as she sat silently in his room. Closing her eyes, she let her body sink into the supple leather. She could sense his touch, as he tenderly stroked her cheek with his thumb, wiping away tears as they cascaded down her face. His lips were warm as they pressed against her forehead and trailed feather-light kisses across her brow. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek as she heard him faintly say, I love you, Beth. Turning to meet his lips, she opened her eyes to gaze into the depth of his, and for a brief moment she thought she could see him there, looking young and alive, with a tender smile, and an expression in his eyes that bespoke his love. She closed her eyes and basked in his love - the love that was hers, had long been hers, and was still hers.

The sound of light rapping on the partially open door roused her. She knew not how long she had been sitting in Jonas' chair, nor how long Bessie had been standing in the hall.

"Elizabeth, dear, I don't wish to disturb you, but you have a visitor".

Wiping at the tears in her eyes, she asked, "Who is here, Bessie?" She stood, thinking that it might be Charlotte waiting downstairs.

"It's Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth dropped back down into the chair. "Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes, it's Mr. Darcy," Bessie repeated, eyeing Elizabeth curiously. "Shall I tell him you're not available?"

"No. . . No." She thought for a moment. "Tell him I'll be down shortly." She wiped at the remaining tears and stood. "Thank you, Bessie."

The sound of Bessie's steps dissipated as she descended the stairs. Elizabeth noticed the time. It was still early - a little early for visitors. What could he want? She walked down the hall to her room, to check her appearance in the mirror. Puffy eyes, denoting a crying bout, looked back at her. Placing a cool, wet towel on her face, she tried to ease the swelling about her eyes, then touched up her make-up and ran a brush through her shoulder length hair before pulling it back. Definitely looking your age, Liz, she chided her reflection, then made her way downstairs.

Fitzwilliam stood, as she entered the drawing room where he had been waiting. "Elizabeth," he spoke cautiously while extending a bouquet of yellow roses to her. "I wanted to say I am sorry about yesterday."

Surprised at this gesture, she slowly reached out and took the flowers from him. "There is no need for an apology, Fitzwilliam."

"Yes, there is. I want to apologize for my idiotic behavior, and . . ." he paused, "and for Caroline's rudeness toward you."

Surprised again, she answered, "you don't need to apologize, especially for Caroline's actions."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe I recall you once telling me that you do accept apologies." He smiled and raised his brow, awaiting her response.

A slight smile curled her lips as she gently laughed at his remark. "You are correct. I did, in fact, tell you that very thing."

Fitzwilliam raked his hand through his hair and sighed. "My behavior yesterday....I was upset with Caroline and how she had treated you and then when I saw you with...when I saw that you were leaving, I don't know what came over me. I hope you'll forgive me."

"There is really nothing to forgive, but seeing that you'll hold me to my word about accepting apologies, I accept, and what's more, I understand. You were having a rough day." She held the flowers to her nose and inhaled the sweet fragrance. "Come with me to the kitchen so I can put these in water," she beckoned, as she turned to exit the room

He gladly followed her, pleased to have set things right with Elizabeth. The previous night had been a troubling and sleepless one for him, as he tossed and wrestled in his bed, angry with himself for the way he had stalked off, and furious with Caroline and her attack on Elizabeth.

They stood alone in the kitchen as Elizabeth arranged the flowers in a vase. She looked radiant, almost ethereal, with the morning sun pouring over her as she stood wearing a pale yellow dress that blended with the color of the roses she held. Her thick hair was pulled back neatly into a decorative clip and he longed to release it to run his hands through its length. She smiled up at him as he tried to tame his thoughts, causing an increase in his desire to act upon the impulse he felt to take her face in his hands and kiss her full, tempting lips. He strode to the window, passing the table, which held a steaming teapot and a plate of muffins.

Elizabeth, noticing that Bessie had left the tea tray out, remembered that she had not yet eaten. "Would you care for some tea?" she offered, gesturing toward the table by which he stood.

"I . . . believe I should be going," he hoarsely replied. "Thank you, Elizabeth."

She walked him to the door in silence and bid him good-bye. He returned her farewell with a smile and a wave of his hand, and disappeared around the bend of the walk.

That afternoon, after she had attended church and spoke with Peter on the phone, catching up with his news of the week, Elizabeth prepared to have dinner at the Lucas'. A few neighbors and friends had been invited. Charlotte had been vague about who was to attend, but Elizabeth was reassured that Caroline would not be in the group.

When she entered the Lucas' parlour, Elizabeth noted who was in attendance. Sir Percy was dominating the conversation, while his audience, Geoffrey and Anne Rutherford, Graham and Suzanne Oliver, and Collins casually partook.

As Charlotte presented her to the group, Sir Percy was the first to greet her. "Elizabeth, you look ravishing, as usual," he said flirtatiously as he moved to take the empty place by her side. The others were less animated in their regards and Sir Percy once again picked up the conversation, regaling them with stories of his recent trip to South America.

"Percy, you really are such a bore," Fitzwilliam's voice was heard from behind his friend. Everyone in the group turned, surprised at Fitzwilliam's interruption. Elizabeth's heart leapt and quickened its pace at the sound of it.

"A bore, Fitz?" Sir Percy quickly rallied. "If anyone should know, you would be the one!" He laughed easily and reached to shake his hand.

Fitzwilliam took the extended hand to greet Sir Percy and maneuvered himself next to Elizabeth while paying his respects to the others.

"Perhaps, you should tell us an amusing anecdote, Fitz, if you find mine so tiresome," Sir Percy suggested amiably.

"Yes Fitz, do," Anne chimed in.

"I'd love to hear the one about you and that organ grinder's monkey," Geoffrey urged him.

Anne and Sir Percy laughed heartily at Geoffrey's suggestion, while Fitzwilliam's complexion brightened to a soft pink hue.

"An organ grinder's monkey?" Graham questioned. "I'm dying to hear it. Pray, tell us."

"I'm sure not everyone here would care to hear that particular story." Fitzwilliam tried to put them off.

"I'm sure I would," Collins expressed his interest.

Turning to Elizabeth in hopes that she would put an end to his uncomfortable predicament, he implored her with his eyes to turn the discussion in his favor.

"Well, it does sound extremely amusing," she smiled pertly at Fitzwilliam, raised one eyebrow and looked around at the others before adding, "or positively indecent."

Laughter erupted throughout the group and several were still chuckling moments later when Charlotte entered to inform them that dinner was ready.

With the weather so warm and agreeable, Charlotte had decided they would eat outdoors. The guests dispersed and made their way to the veranda and all mention of the organ grinder's monkey ceased.

Taking Elizabeth by the arm, Fitzwilliam said, "Thank you for helping me out of that."

"Oh, you're not out of it," she grinned. "I fully expect to hear that story."

With his brow raised in uncertainty, he nervously laughed his response.

Sir Percy stood at the open French doors that led out onto the veranda awaiting Elizabeth as she approached with Fitzwilliam.

Charlotte hurried to his side. "Percy, come with me. I need your opinion." She linked her arm with his and led the reluctant gentleman across the porch.

"Charlotte, really. What do you need me for?" He said while looking back toward the double doors.

"I told you. I need your opinion - you still have plenty of those, don't you?"

"Very funny." Sir Percy made a wry face then returned his gaze back toward the house. When he saw Elizabeth emerge, he began to call to her.

Seeing this, Charlotte took a hold of his chin and forcibly faced him in her direction, then placed a shrimp in his mouth. "I want you to taste this and tell me what you think." She pushed his mouth closed. "Does it have too much cayenne?"

Sir Percy quickly ate the crustacean that had been pressed upon him. "It's fine, Charlotte. Now, if you'll excuse..."

"I'm worried it might be too spicy for some of the guests tastes." Placing a hand on his arm, she prevented his retreat. "Are you certain it's not too hot?"

"Yes, it's delicious."

"Are you sure?" Charlotte looked over Sir Percy's shoulder and could see Fitzwilliam helping Elizabeth into her chair. "Here, try another. You might be mistaken having only eaten one."

"Fine." He sighed in resignation. "Let me try another." After tasting the offered morsel, he once again deemed it to be more than satisfactory.

Charlotte could see Fitzwilliam seated next to her friend engaged in conversation, and was now willing to release Sir Percy's attention. "I can't thank you enough. You've set my mind at ease."

Sir Percy quickly left the company of his hostess in search of Elizabeth, when his brother caught his arm. "Percy, come with me. I need your help to prove to Oliver what a fool he is. He thinks..."

Paying no attention to what his brother was saying, Sir Percy continued his search and noticed Fitzwilliam sitting with Elizabeth. Letting out a deep sigh, he followed his brother to join the debate.

After they had enjoyed the sinfully delicious meal of Tagliatella with shrimp and cream sauce, Seared carpaccio of beef and roasted baby beets that Charlotte had prepared, she presented them with a light dessert of Basil and lime sorbet.

"Honestly, Charlotte, I don't think I could eat another bite." Elizabeth said. "The meal was absolutely delicious."

"Yes, my compliments, Charlotte." Fitzwilliam nodded in agreement as he sat with an arm casually draped on the back of Elizabeth's chair. "Please, I'd love to have some dessert."

"Thank you." Charlotte beamed as she placed the sorbet in front of him. "Enjoy." Before turning away, she winked at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and laughed as her friend walked away.

"You need to try this, Elizabeth. It's wonderful." Fitzwilliam held a spoonful up.

She smiled as she picked up her spoon. "Just one bite." After helping herself to a bite of his dessert, she moaned lightly. "This is really good - the perfect dessert for a warm evening.

"Would you like another bite?"

"No, but I could use another glass of water."

Standing up, Fitzwilliam picked up her glass. "I'll be right back."

As she sat waiting for his return, she became involved in conversation with Anne Rutherford who was seated across the table. After just a few moments, Sir Percy greeted the two women and occupied the seat Fitzwilliam had left empty. "Charlotte certainly knows how to take good care of her guests now, doesn't she? That was a marvelous meal."

"Yes, it was." Elizabeth agreed.

"Best meal I've had in ages," Anne said as she stood to leave. "Percy, where is that brother of yours?"

"He was in the garden the last time I saw him." He pointed into the yard and Anne left to locate her husband. "I've hardly spoken to you this evening, Elizabeth. Are you feeling better today?"

"I am, thank you."

"I had hoped to share a table with you." Lowering his voice, he leaned closer to continue. "I never realized how tedious Graham could be."

"Really? I hadn't gotten that impression of him," she replied with an edge of humor in her voice.

As he chuckled at her response, Sir Percy felt a strong hand grip his shoulder.

"Percy, old boy, I believe you're in my chair."

He looked back to see Fitzwilliam's grinning face. "Sorry, Fitz, I thought you'd left. There are other chairs available." He motioned around the table.

Taking a look around, Fitzwilliam nodded his head. "You're right, there are several empty seats - why don't you take one?" And he tightened his grip on the seated gentleman.

Without responding, Sir Percy rose from the prized chair and took the seat across from Elizabeth that Anne had vacated and contributed little to the conversation for the remainder of the evening.

As she sat before the mirror, brushing her hair, she recalled the pleasant evening she had spent amongst the small gathering of friends and the enjoyable conversation the group at her table had shared. Glad to have been party to it, she was able to acquaint herself better in this more intimate setting and had learned that Charlotte, Sir Percy, Geoffrey and Fitzwilliam had all known each other as children, and that Anne was Fitzwilliam's cousin.

Placing her brush on the tabletop she once again noticed the bag Fitzwilliam had given her. She reached over to pick up the bag, removed the perfume bottle, unwrapped it and held it up to the light. As she stared at the soft purple glow, a smile graced her lips while recalling the evening he had presented the gift to her. Sighing, she gently placed the bottle on the dressing table, and after staring at it a few moments she rose and went to bed.

That night Elizabeth laid her head on her pillow and rested peacefully. Her dreams were calm and soothing, with breezy images of the sun drenched countryside, causing her to feel refreshed upon awakening, in fact, she could hardly remember the last time she had felt this serene.

With a song on her lips, she readied herself and proceeded downstairs to face the new day, which had dawned bright and pleasant.

"You sound as if you slept very well," Bessie commented when Elizabeth drifted in.

"I slept very well, indeed," Elizabeth cheerfully replied.

"So what have you planned for today?"

"I've made no definite plans, but a day such as today needs to be spent out of doors." She sat down at the breakfast table. "I think I'll start the day with a long, leisurely walk in order to truly appreciate the beauty of it."

After eating a substantial breakfast, which pleased Bessie, Elizabeth left the house in excellent spirits.

She walked along the quiet country road, passing rolling hills and meadows rich in color, until in the distance she espied a thick grove of trees. Wondering if perhaps these trees guarded a secret stream or pond, she squeezed through a gap in the aging wall, which had barred her access, thus allowing her the ability to satisfy her curiosity. She sang aloud as she walked along with a youthful spring to her step, heedless of the fact that she was trespassing on private property. As she crossed through the grove, she heard the sound of running water, so directed her feet toward it.

Her hopes were gratified as she broke from the grove into a clearing and looked upon a babbling stream edged with trees. Turning to capture the entire vista, she noted the vast expanse of grove and meadow bordered by the lazy brook, which most likely fed into a small lake or pond. Adventure called to her as she was seized with the desire to explore where it lead.

Following the rivulet, she walked along the lush, green sloping fields until, at the crest of one particularly steep hill, she rested her eyes upon a pond set amidst a scattering of trees and brush. It was a fairly large pond, fed by the gurgling stream, which had decreased in size and speed as it approached its destination.

With determination, she advanced toward the pond. Once in the shade of a nearby cluster of trees about halfway down the hill, she stopped, deciding to sit in order to take in the view. A gentle breeze rippled the water's surface and rustled the leaves of the trees. She brought her knees up and thought perhaps she might be warmer sitting in the sun, when the sound of hoof beats caught her attention.

Looking about, she could see no horse, and worried that perhaps she might be trampled by the unseen animal. Just as she was about to raise herself, a horse and rider rounded the brush by which she was seated.

They did not halt, just continued on towards the water's edge, oblivious to her presence there. Elizabeth sat still, watching, as the rider dismounted. Only then did she recognize him as Fitzwilliam. Wondering what he intended to do; she steadied herself and repressed her desire to approach him.

He stretched out his long limbs as if preparing to run a marathon. She quietly observed his physical appearance - the cut of the jeans he wore flattered his lean, athletic build, and the faded denim shirt, opened to partially reveal his chest, caused her to, unknowingly, hold her breath. Twisting at the waist, he froze mid stretch, as he looked straight at her. After a moment, he straightened and proceeded to walk toward her. Elizabeth stiffened, almost paralyzed, as he approached. Suddenly he ceased his ascent and craned his neck.

"Elizabeth?" he said in astonishment, his shoulders relaxing, as he completed his approach. "What..." he paused and glanced around, "what are you doing here?"

"I was enjoying the view," she answered pertly as she began to raise herself from the cool grass.

Instinctively, he reached his hand out to help her up. Elizabeth took the offered hand as she felt her heart rate increase, and tried to act as though she were unaffected by it.

"You've come quite a distance to enjoy this simple view." He kept hold of her hand. "Have you walked all this way from Cresthaven?"

"I'm not really far from Cresthaven." She looked around as she spoke.

"You might be farther from it than you think. You're actually at the southernmost point of Pemberley," he said, then asked with a quizzical look. "Have you been here before?"

Before answering, she turned to completely view the area. "You know, it's the strangest thing. I can't help but feel that I have been here before - it looks so familiar, yet, I know I've never come this way."

As she stood with a faraway expression, trying to piece together the puzzling images within her mind, he held her hand, silently enjoying her closeness, all the while fighting with his desire to take her in his arms and passionately kiss her. With his heart pounding rapidly in his chest and his temperature rising, he reluctantly let go of her hand, which brought Elizabeth back to the present.

"Oh ...I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"No, not at all," he said, clearing his voice.

Elizabeth glanced at her watch and noticed that it was nearly noon. "I had better get home. I didn't realize I'd been out this long." She turned as if to begin her walk back.

His voice stopped her retreat. "Would you like a ride home?" He wasn't ready for her to leave.

She raised her brow. "On horseback?"

"At present, it's the only mode of transportation I can offer you." His lips tightened, forming a lopsided grin.

"I don't ride horses, William. I told you that."

William? The grin broadened into a full smile. "Would you object, if we rode together?"

Together? She looked at him thoughtfully, wondering what he was smiling about.

"You would arrive home sooner than if you walked back," he offered, without trying to sound too eager.

"All right," she slowly responded.

They walked down the slope toward Fitzwilliam's horse. The animal was calmly grazing and raised its head when its master approached. Grabbing the reins, Fitzwilliam brought the horse around to where Elizabeth stood. She moved to greet the majestic animal, raising her hand to stroke its muzzle. "What a gorgeous horse," she admired as she continued to rub the broad nose and neck of the rich brown, glossy coated beast.

He smiled as he observed her - her dark hair pulled back casually, with a few wispy strands playing about her shoulders, standing out against the bright whiteness of the crisp cotton blouse she wore tucked into her faded blue jeans.

"How is it that you admire horses but don't ride them?" he asked curiously.

Smiling, she turned toward him. "Jonas always asked me the same question." She grimaced, as if embarrassed. "And after all this time, I still don't have a sensible response."

He almost regretted having asked the question, as it brought memories of her husband to the forefront of her mind, until she continued her response.

"Perhaps, you can help me discover the reason."

"I'll do whatever I can." Placing his hands on her waist he gave her a boost, helping her to mount the horse.

She settled into the saddle and awaited his next move. Seeing that Elizabeth was perfectly comfortable, he hoisted himself onto the horse's back behind her. If standing next to her, holding her hand had been difficult for him to refrain from acting impulsively, his temptation was now ten-fold with their bodies in such close proximity.

Breathing in her sweet scent as he leaned forward to grip the reins, his face brushed against her cheek. He could feel her back stiffen as she leaned forward, away from his contact. Immediately leaning back, he then urged the horse on and slowly began their ride toward Cresthaven.

"What is your horse's name?" Elizabeth asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Gawain."

"Gawain?" She turned back to catch eye. "Wasn't he one of King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table?"

"An American well versed in English legend - I'm impressed." He smiled.

"Oh, don't be too impressed." She laughed. "I barely recall the name from some reading I've done. I know very little about Sir Gawain."

"Enough to at least have heard of him. He's not the most well known of Arthur's knights."

"Probably because he never appeared in Monty Python and the Holy Grail," she quipped.

He laughed. "Ah, yes, that ever faithful retelling of Arthur's famous quest."

They shared a laugh and were soon discussing Sir Gawain, with Fitzwilliam reminding Elizabeth of the noble knight's battle with the Green Knight and his reputation for chivalry and decency.

Elizabeth could tell this was a favorite story of his and enjoyed listening to Fitzwilliam's narrative of the medieval tale, envisioning him as a youth engrossed in the reading and study of the infamous King Arthur and his brave knights.

Happy for the conversational distraction and Elizabeth's relaxed attitude, Fitzwilliam secretly enjoyed the pleasure he derived from her body pressing against his own and the gentle sway of Gawain's gait.

Chapter Eight

"Elizabeth, dear! Charlotte is here to fetch you," Bessie called into the sitting room. "Come in, Charlotte. Oh, and little Maria is with you!" Bessie exclaimed when Charlotte's fourteen-year-old daughter entered the house behind her mother. "It's a girl's night out, is it then?"

"Yes, it is indeed," Charlotte responded with a smile.

"Yes, Bessie. It is indeed." Elizabeth teased as she entered the room. "In fact, let's really make it a girl's night - come along with us."

"Oh, dear, not me!" Bessie cried. "I'm just an old woman - you won't be wanting me along."

"Do come, Bessie! We're going to the cinema," Charlotte entreated her.

"Yes, you love the movies," Elizabeth urged.

"No. You girls go on without me - I'll just stay here and watch the telly."

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Go, go. Have a lovely time," Bessie said as she shooed them out the door.

Elizabeth, Charlotte and Maria climbed into the Rover and headed off to the cinema as planned.

Following the movie they stopped at The Sweet Shop for ice cream. Maria soon found some friends and wanted to join them. "Lydia and Kate are here, would it be all right if I talked to them for a while?" she asked her mother with an anxious expression.

"Sure." A faint smile crossed Charlotte's lips as she chuckled to herself.

The two women watched Maria rush over to her friends and join them in flirting with a group of boys at the next table over.

"Tonight's been fun. We should do this more often," Elizabeth said to her friend.

Charlotte nodded. "It has been fun."

"Although, I don't think Maria would want to make a habit of hanging out with two old ladies." Elizabeth grinned as she watched the three girls giggling, trying to ignore the occupants of the adjacent table.

Charlotte briefly observed the coquettish behavior of the teenagers. "Most likely not - it's hard to impress boys with your mum sitting next to you."

"Mortifying." Elizabeth laughed.

From across the room, Elizabeth heard a voice calling her name. Looking up, she saw Ian Darcy practically running toward the table where she and Charlotte were sitting with his father a few feet behind him. Ian was soon at her side and helping himself to a seat as he spoke. "What kind of ice cream do you like?" He looked at Elizabeth, paying no attention to her friend across the table.

"Ian, I don't think these ladies invited you to sit with them," Fitzwilliam gently scolded his son.

The boy stood immediately, realizing his mistake. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Elizabeth reassured him, then turned to his father. "Why don't you both join us?" She motioned to the empty chairs at the table.

Without waiting his father's approval, Ian placed himself in the chair next to Elizabeth, leaving Fitzwilliam the seat next to Charlotte.

"What brings you ladies out tonight?" Fitzwilliam asked as he sat down.

"A girls night out. We've been to the movies and decided to stop in for ice cream," Elizabeth answered.

"What's your favorite ice cream?" Ian asked Elizabeth, fairly bouncing in his chair.

"It's Toffee pecan. Which one is yours?" She smiled at the fidgeting boy.

He held up his double scoop cone. "My favorite is Banana chocolate chip and my dad's is Strawberry. We won our match today so we're celebrating. I have a tournament on Saturday. Do you want to go? I need to..."

"Ian," Fitzwilliam placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, "your ice cream is melting."

Looking down at the dripping mess in his hand, Ian quickly began to eat the liquefying cream as Charlotte and Elizabeth watched with amusement.

"Would you be interested in attending the tournament?" Fitzwilliam asked, directing his gaze first at Charlotte, then finally resting on Elizabeth.

"This Saturday?" Elizabeth asked hesitantly.

Fitzwilliam smiled. "Yes, all day Saturday."

She thought momentarily. "I don't have any plans..."

"So you'll come?" His smile broadened, revealing his dimples.

"I think so." She matched his smile.

So pleased with Elizabeth's agreement Fitzwilliam nearly forgot the other woman at the table. "What about you, Charlotte?"

Charlotte smiled as she glanced over at her three companions. Fitzwilliam grinning - only politely inquiring about her interest in the tournament, Ian excitedly talking to her friend after hearing she would be at his football tournament, and Elizabeth smiling as she dipped a napkin into her glass of water helping to clean the sticky mess on Ian's hands. "I don't think so, Fitz, too many things at home need my attention."

As they finished their ice cream the conversation revolved around their plans for Saturday. It was decided that Fitzwilliam and Ian would come by at ten o'clock to pick Elizabeth up and they would eat a picnic lunch at the field. The rest depended upon how well the team played in the tournament.

Standing to leave, Charlotte excused herself to retrieve Maria, while Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth arose and slowly made their way to the exit. Ian rushed ahead of them, quickly pushing past the door into the night air.

"It's very kind of you to attend Ian's game - he's very excited." The expression on Fitzwilliam's face revealed the depth of his appreciation.

"It's entirely my pleasure." She smiled up at him. "Ian is a very sweet boy - I look forward to spending the day with him...with you both."

Fitzwilliam smiled as he held the door open for Elizabeth and quietly walked with her to Charlotte's parked car - Charlotte and Maria were waiting inside. He helped Elizabeth into the vehicle and wished them all a good evening. They pulled away as he stood watching them disappear down the lane.

Saturday morning Elizabeth was ready and waiting when Fitzwilliam's car pulled up to the house. She appeared on the back stoop just as he was opening his door.

"Are you ready to go?" Fitzwilliam rushed around to get the passenger door for her.

Nodding her response, she met him at the car door. "Good morning."

"Yes, good morning." He breathed in her sweet fragrance.

After taking her seat, she smiled up at him. "It appears that you're missing a son."

He laughed. "You were first on the way." As he closed the door, she could see him smiling, and observed him intently while he rounded the car.

The house Ian and his mother lived in was large and built recently, but lacked the charm and warmth of an older domicile. As they pulled up into the drive, Elizabeth tried to imagine what the interior might look like - with Caroline as its mistress it probably wouldn't be very inviting.

Fitzwilliam left the car idling in the drive while he ran up to the front door to fetch his son. As he stood in the doorway waiting, Caroline appeared. From her seat in the car, Elizabeth could see the scowl on Caroline's face and felt a rush of empathy for Ian and his father.

Caroline moved past Fitzwilliam and glared out at Elizabeth sitting in the Mercedes. Fitzwilliam caught her arm and said something to her, but Elizabeth couldn't tell what. Just after Caroline walked back into the house, Ian came bounding out wearing his red and white striped jersey and his pack slung over his shoulder. He ran quickly to the car and climbed into the back seat.

"Hi, Elizabeth." Ian's voice was cheerful.

Elizabeth turned back and smiled. "Hello, Ian. Are you excited to play?"

He nodded anxiously as he buckled his seat belt. Fitzwilliam took his seat, put the car in gear, pulled out of the driveway and they were soon on their way.

During the forty-five minute drive, Fitzwilliam and Ian conversed about the tournament ahead and their expectations of the day. As Elizabeth listened, she was reminded of the days when she attended Peter's soccer games. Jonas had coached his team for two seasons and she had overheard many similar discussions between her husband and son.

Smiling at the remembrance, she glanced back at Ian as he spoke with much animation about his team's last match. He really is such a dear boy... it's a shame he has the mother he does...but his father. Turning toward Fitzwilliam, she watched the grin on his face broaden as he listened to Ian's retelling of the winning goal. His father definitely compensates for the mother's deficiencies.

"I'm afraid this is going to be very dull for you today, Elizabeth." Fitzwilliam grimaced as he set up a folding chair in the shade for her. "I should have thought of that before inviting you."

"Don't worry about me. I'm really looking forward to this - I haven't seen a game since Peter was in high school." She smiled up at him.

Seeing that Elizabeth was settled, he ran to the field and gathered the squad for a warm-up. They were assigned to play in one of the first matches of the day, which was scheduled to start soon.

The whistle blew and the play commenced. After having seen older boys playing on Peter's high school team, a field full of nine and ten year olds caused Elizabeth to smile in amusement. She cheered the team on as they defended their goal and turned the ball back down the field in pursuit of a point. A short, fair haired boy in a red and white uniform dribbled the ball down center field, his size and agility giving him the advantage over the larger opposing midfielders. When his shot flew into the net past the hands of the goalkeeper, the crowd on the east side of the field erupted into shouts and whistles. Elizabeth joined in the cheering as she watched the ball retrieved and thrown back into play.

Clearly unhappy to have a score against them, the opposing team aggressively drove the ball downfield. Elizabeth could see Ian in the midfield charging toward his opponent who had possession of the ball. When he deftly maneuvered the ball from his opposition, Ian dribbled it forward then made a long pass to the same boy who had scored their first goal, resulting in a second point for the team.

The crowd again went wild. Elizabeth let out a loud, prolonged whistle for the boys. Hearing this, Fitzwilliam turned to see from where the shrill sound emanated and was surprised at the source of it. He chuckled and smiled; glad to see Elizabeth enjoying the game, before returning his attention to the field.

As she stood watching Fitzwilliam calling out instructions and sending in replacements, Elizabeth could sense someone standing off to her left. She turned to see whom it might be and was surprised to see Robert Stansbury.

"Elizabeth," he greeted her, "I didn't expect to see you here. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Robert. I hope you're the same."

"Yes, I am. What brings you out to a football match?" He wore a questioning expression.

She smiled. "I'm just a big fan of the sport. Do you have a son on the team?"

Nodding his head, he pointed over to the goal net. "My boy Sean is the goalkeeper."

"I didn't realize you had a son this age."

"Robert!" Portia called as she approached her husband.

"Portia, come see who I've found here." Robert said as he turned to meet his wife.

"Oh ... Elizabeth. How have you been?" The insincerity in Portia's voice was evident to Elizabeth, but she smiled graciously and greeted her.

"I didn't know you were interested in football," Portia commented as she looked around to see whom Elizabeth was here with until her eyes rested on Fitzwilliam Darcy standing on the sideline. "Or is it something else that interests you?"

Ignoring Portia's insinuation, Elizabeth smiled politely. "I am interested in the game and when Ian Darcy asked me to attend, I told him I'd be happy to."

Portia smirked. "I'm sure you did."

Robert took his wife's arm. "Portia, I'm tired, let's return to our seats." He then turned to Elizabeth. "It's so good to see you. Enjoy the tournament"

The team played very well, winning their first match, which meant they would play a second one later. After the game, Elizabeth watched Fitzwilliam in a huddle with the boys and could hear him praising them. "Well done, lads."

As they dispersed, Ian ran to Elizabeth and talked excitedly about his game. Elizabeth put an arm around him and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "You were wonderful out there. I loved the way you kept taking the ball from that red headed kid," she laughed. "I think he was upset with you."

Fitzwilliam joined the laughing pair and tousled Ian's hair. "Are you hungry?"

Ian looked up at his father with a huge, dimpled smile. "Yeah, let's eat!"

In the shade of the trees, Elizabeth and Ian spread out a blanket on the grass while Fitzwilliam unpacked their lunch. They ate and talked. Ian soon became restless, but his father cautioned him not to spend his energy before the next match, so he and a few of his pals climbed up the nearby trees to sit and watch the game that was in progress.

Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam cleared up the lunch mess and after folding the blanket, Fitzwilliam set up a second chair next to Elizabeth's and they sat down to watch the game.

When the referee called an offsides penalty, Elizabeth turned to Fitzwilliam to ask about it. "That's one of the things I've never understood about this game. Why was he called offsides?"

Fitzwilliam laughed. "It's a confusing rule, but I'll try to explain it." He thought for a moment before attempting to enlighten her. "When the attacking team sends a pass forward, the most advanced player must have two opponents between him and the goal."

"That much I do understand, but I've seen many refs not call offsides when it looked like a player was."

"That would be passive offsides." He grimaced as he looked at her baffled expression. "But first let me explain the basic rule." He leaned close to her and pointing out players on the field, he explained the concept as well as he could without confusing her further. "Essentially, the rule exists because you don't want to reward a player who simply stands by the opponent's goal throughout the entire game waiting for the ball to come his way and kick it in."

She turned to face him with a light of comprehension in her expression. "Now, that makes sense. Thank you, I think I finally understand." Laughing, she shook her head. "Won't Peter be surprised to find that his mother finally gets it."

Fitzwilliam beamed, finding it difficult to hide his ever-increasing fondness for the woman beside him. She was so full of life, and although mature and experienced, she had a simplicity and innocence about her that he found refreshing and extremely appealing. He took her hand in his, wanting to feel her touch, and gave it a squeeze, then stood and helped her up. "We need to get over to the other field for our next match."

The next game was underway and the boys weren't playing as well as they had in the first. Elizabeth stood, watching intently, cheering them on, when Sir Percy sidled next to her. "How are our lads doing?"

"I'm afraid they're not doing well at all." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "What are you doing here?"

"I always come to see our team play. I should ask you the same thing, but I already know the answer." He shifted his gaze toward the sideline and tipped his chin in Fitzwilliam's direction.

Turning to face him full, she gave him a scrutinizing look. "Just what is that supposed mean?"

"If you don't know what I mean, then now isn't the time to tell you." Putting his arm around her shoulder, he positioned her to watch the game.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood." She glared at him in mock irritation, glad that he chose not to broach the one subject that Elizabeth found most perplexing.

As the game progressed, the boys improved their play but were still trailing their opponents. Sir Percy sat next to Elizabeth, fighting the urge to jump onto the field and coach the team himself, when Caroline's voice was heard from behind them. "Sir Percy, what a surprise to see you here."

Sir Percy turned around to look at the late arrival while Elizabeth kept her eyes glued on the players. Oh, great. My day is complete. Elizabeth thought as her face distorted in a grimace.

"It's more surprising to see you here, Caroline." Sir Percy stood to speak to her.

"Ha! You are such a card."

"So I've been told." He feigned interest in conversing with her. "Would you like a seat? I'm certain those shoes weren't made for football spectators." Laughing, he glanced down at her leather pumps, undoubtedly Italian.

"No. I'm certain I don't want to sit here," she said while glaring at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was watching the activity on the field, paying no attention to their conversation, which only irritated Caroline more than she already was. Sensing that Caroline's eyes were boring holes in her back, Elizabeth stood and excused herself. She walked slowly toward the sidelines, knowing that the former Mrs. Darcy was watching her every move, and placing her hand on Fitzwilliam's back, she leaned in to speak to him. There was nothing of importance she needed to say to him, she just felt an irrepressible desire to behave mischievously. Fitzwilliam started at her touch, surprised to have Elizabeth by his side, but smiled when she spoke.

Sir Percy and Caroline stood watching their interaction. Sir Percy suppressed his laughter, but couldn't hold back the grin that formed on his lips. "I think you might want to take a seat now, Caroline." He motioned toward the chair he had vacated as he sat down where Elizabeth had been seated.

"You must be mad if you think I'll sit here and watch this...this..."

"Calm down, Caroline, don't get your knickers in a twitch."

"Calm down? I don't need to calm down!"

"I beg to differ. You're disturbing those of us who came to watch the match."

At that moment, the crowd cheered. Ian, who had been playing a forward position, had just scored a goal. Fitzwilliam in his excitement had almost run out onto the playing field, but instead turned to give Elizabeth a hug.

Seeing this, Caroline threw daggers with her eyes at her ex-husband and Elizabeth then stormed off in a huff.

At the end of the game Ian's team had lost, by one point. The tournament was over for them, but Fitzwilliam was elated - the team had pulled together in the second half and narrowed their opponent's lead - to him it was a great success.

"You played very well, lads." Sir Percy joined their post-game huddle.

"Yes, you really pulled together and played as a team." Their coach beamed. "I'm very pleased." He patted several boys on the shoulder. "Who wants pizza? Sir Percy's treat!"

All the boys cheered while Sir Percy looked at Fitzwilliam with a dumbfounded expression. Fitzwilliam wrapped his arm across Sir Percy's shoulder and winked. "Thanks, old boy."

The two men gathered the gear and chairs and joined Elizabeth in the walk out to the cars. As they approached the pavement, they encountered Robert and Portia Stansbury talking with Caroline. Surprised to see his ex-wife at a football game, but buoyed by the events of the day, Fitzwilliam greeted them and made an effort to speak with Caroline. "Did you see your son score a goal?"

"Yes ... I did." Caroline fibbed - she hadn't actually seen his goal, only the aftermath of it.

"Does Ian know you're here?"

"I haven't seen him. Where is he?" She looked around, trying to locate him.

"He's probably at the car waiting for us." Fitzwilliam took a deep breath. "We're going out for pizza, why don't you join us?"

"I can't ... I'm busy."

His lips tightened. "Fine."

"You'll bring Ian home tomorrow night?"

"Yes, six o'clock."

"All right."

"Well, I need to go - the team's waiting." He nodded his head and turned to catch up with Elizabeth and Sir Percy.

The boys had been rowdy at the pizza parlour in spite of the fact that many of their parents were there with them. They celebrated their success for as long as they could convince the adults to let them stay. Sir Percy was more than willing to pick up the bill, but Fitzwilliam assured him that he had only been joking about having him treat. "Thanks, for coming out to see the lads play." Fitzwilliam patted his friend on the shoulder.

"You know I wouldn't miss it." With a slap on Fitzwilliam's back, he turned toward his car.

Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth and Ian were finally in the car and on the way home. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted." Elizabeth stretched out, leaning back on the headrest.

"You're not the only one." Fitzwilliam motioned into the back seat.

Looking back, Elizabeth could see Ian's head tilted forward - he was fast asleep. She smiled as she watched his head bob slightly up and down.

She turned to face forward. "He's had a very busy day."

Fitzwilliam nodded and grinned in response and they drove in agreeable silence toward Cresthaven.

After getting Elizabeth's door for her, they strolled slowly up the walk. "Thank you for coming with us today." He looked up into the dusky sky before meeting her gaze.

"I had a great day." She smiled broadly and took his hand in hers. "Thank you for allowing me to be a part of it."

She gave his hand a squeeze then turned to open the door. "Goodnight, William."

"Goodnight, Elizabeth." His smile was deep and dimpled as he stood on the porch watching her disappear behind the closing door.

Chapter Nine

Posted on Friday, 4 July 2003

Elizabeth and Charlotte were returning home after a visit to the Lea Gardens in Matlock. They had walked the woodland paths that morning, enjoying nature's beauty, then lunched at the café and stopped in town to do a bit of shopping before heading back to Lambton.

As they approached the road that would take them to Cresthaven, Elizabeth noticed Ian's football team training in the field behind her house. Searching the throng of youngsters, she couldn't make out Ian, but saw his father towering over the boys as he ran amongst them playing a scrimmage.

Her heart quickened and she found herself suddenly anxious to be free of the confines of the car. Looking over to Charlotte, she willed her to drive faster, but Charlotte maintained her speed and continued discussing their plans for another outing.

"...there are about twelve acres of formal gardens and even a moated stream."

"It sounds lovely." Elizabeth smiled half heartedly as she returned her gaze out the window.

At last Charlotte pulled the Rover onto the long drive to Elizabeth's house, and as soon as the vehicle had stopped, Elizabeth opened the door.

"So, on our next trip we'll go to Risley Hall?" Elizabeth gathered her belongings as she spoke.

"Yes, if it sounds agreeable to you." Charlotte became aware of Elizabeth's anxiety. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine - just tired from sitting so long." With a handful of bags, Elizabeth exited the car. "I need to stretch my legs."

"Okay, I'll see you later."

"Thanks, Charlotte." Elizabeth closed the door and watched as her friend drove away.

Quickly depositing her packages on the back step, she walked briskly through her own gardens, heading toward the southern wall. She could hear the faint sound of a whistle and increased her pace. Arriving at the low wall at the edge of her property, she could see William out on the field and stood there momentarily before climbing over the stone barrier.

Throughout the practice as the team was involved in training exercises, William had, from time to time, looked back toward Cresthaven hoping to catch a glimpse of Elizabeth. His hopes were finally realized when, as the boys were having a passing competition, he looked back to see Elizabeth walking in his direction.

"Hello," he called as he swiftly strode toward her.

"I saw you out here so thought I'd come to see you and Ian."

"I'm glad you did. I stopped by your house before practice, but Bessie told me you were off with Charlotte."

Elizabeth raised her brow at this information. "Yes, we were in Matlock today, visiting Lea Gardens."

Casting his eyes downward, he ran his foot across the long grass, matting it down against the earth. "Has Charlotte been taking you sight seeing?"

"She has - we've seen quite a lot of Derbyshire."

Looking up quickly, he gave her a questioning gaze. "Has she shown you Gloaman's Glen?"

After a moment's thought, Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't believe she has."

"You need to see Gloaman's Glen. I can't believe Charlotte's never taken you there."

"What and where is this famous site?"

"It's not a famous site, it's not even a site at all." While taking in a deep breath he looked over Elizabeth's shoulder toward the eastern horizon. "Did you ever have a special place that only you and your closest friends knew about?"

A gentle smile graced her face. "You mean, sort of like Winnie the Pooh's Enchanted Place?"

He looked at her with an amused grin.

"What?" she cried as she saw his expression.

"Nothing." He was almost chuckling.

"What was that look for?" she demanded, suppressing her smile.

He feigned a look of innocence. "What look?"

"You were laughing at me." Her accusation was good-natured.

"I most certainly was not laughing at you."

"Deny it if you wish, but I definitely heard a snicker."

He couldn't prevent the smile from spreading across his face. "I wouldn't call it a snicker. Perhaps a subdued chuckle, but not a snicker."

After rolling her eyes, she returned his smile, but gave him no response.

"Now, what were you saying about ... Winnie the Pooh?" he asked with an impish expression.

She opened her mouth to speak, but instead snapped it shut and arched a single brow.

Leaning forward, he took her hand in his. "I believe you were speaking of an Enchanted Place." His voice was tender, as was his smile.

Elizabeth was silent for a moment as William stood holding her hand, gazing intently at her. "Yes ... I was wondering if Gloaman's Glen could be compared to Winnie the Pooh's Enchanted Place."

"Perhaps you need to see it yourself in order to judge if it is..." He hesitated for a few seconds. "I'd like to take you there."

Her smile let him know she held no grudge for his teasing behavior. "It sounds very tempting, but..."

"Please say you'll go." Giving her hand a squeeze, he emphasized his request.

Elizabeth's mind filled with all the reasons she shouldn't go with him, and why they shouldn't be spending so much time together. He's a wonderful man - funny ... intelligent ... caring ... handsome ... She sighed deeply. But I don't know if I'm ready for this ... I'm not certain it's a good idea to spend so much time with him...

"All right, I'll go with you," she said as she pushed all those thoughts to the back of her mind.

"How's tomorrow?"

She nodded her acquiescence as the boys on the field called out for their coach's attention.

"Elizabeth, telephone call for you," Bessie informed her as she sat reading in the sitting room waiting for William to arrive for their outing. "It's Jim Lamoreaux."

Elizabeth picked up the receiver. "Hello."

"Elizabeth, did you get that information I sent you?"

"I'm fine, Jim, thanks for asking."

"Oh ... yeah ... well, I'm glad to hear it. Did you have a chance to look at that case file I sent you?"

"That's the Jim I remember - straight to the matter at hand," she teased. "I did get the file and reviewed it. I had a few thoughts about it and had planned to email you later."

"Do you have a few minutes to talk now?"

"I'm just about to leave. Can't this wait? I'll call you when I get back this afternoon."

"It would be helpful if we could speak now, Elizabeth."

"Isn't it about five in the morning there?"

"Yes, but I'd still like to talk."

She could sense the urgency in his voice, and decided to discuss the matter with Jim while she waited for William to arrive.

About five minutes into the conversation Bessie ushered William into the room. Elizabeth gave him a smile, then raised her brow and shrugged her shoulders to apologize for the delay.

William stood and watched Elizabeth as she sat at the table, phone resting on her raised shoulder, laptop opened in front of her as she carried on a discussion which seemed foreign as he overheard phrases and technical lingo unfamiliar to him. Glancing about the room, he noticed several paintings hanging in a cluster near the bookshelf and wandered toward them. They were all watercolor renderings of a spring garden, except one unframed landscape with gentle sloping hills cradling a country church in a shaded valley. The view was surprisingly familiar to him - as if it had been painted from Pemberley itself.

Elizabeth set down the phone and turned to William. "I'm sorry you had to wait," she apologized, then noticed his attention focused on the wall of paintings. Crossing the room, she again addressed him. "Sorry my call was so long."

"It's fine." He looked up momentarily before returning his gaze to the landscape. "Are these your paintings?"

Her brow furrowed as she bit her lower lip. "Yes."

"You really do underestimate your talent." Facing her, he gestured toward the rendering of the secluded church. "Where did you paint this one?"

"I can't remember exactly ... it was shortly after I returned this spring."

"You should have it framed."

"Someday."

They stood silently gazing at the painting until Elizabeth turned her attention to William. "Are you ready to go?"

Startled out of his reverie, he smiled down at her, and nodding his head, motioned toward the door.

Passing through the kitchen, Elizabeth turned to Bessie and waved. "I'll be back this afternoon."

"Have a nice time," Bessie called out as she watched them exiting the room.

Once outside, Elizabeth looked around for Fitzwilliam's car. He continued to lead her out past the gardens toward the stable.

"Are we going in your car?" she asked.

"We can't get to Gloaman's Glen in a car."

"Are we going to walk there?"

"No," he answered as they rounded the drive to see Ralph leading Gawain and Thor toward them.

Elizabeth stopped walking. Fitzwilliam turned back to see her standing still.

"We're going on horseback?" Her face showed uncertainty.

"It's the best way to get there."

"William, I haven't ridden a horse since I was a teenager."

"You were on a horse just last week." Resuming his course, he gestured for her to come along with him.

"But I wasn't riding it." Remaining motionless, she looked at him doubtfully.

Stopping, he turned back, giving her an encouraging smile. "You can do this. It's really not difficult."

Raising her brow, she cocked her head to the side. "You're determined on this issue, aren't you?"

"You want to go to the glen, don't you?"

She thought for a moment, wondering if this was really worth the trouble, or even if it was an appropriate thing to be doing. The glen sounded charming and the thought of William wanting to share it with her was sweet. With resignation in her voice she spoke. "I suppose it's like riding a bicycle - once you've learned how you never forget."

Smiling broadly, he took Thor's reins from Ralph, thanking the older man, then maneuvered the horse near Elizabeth. "Just remember to stay relaxed," he advised, then helped her to mount the horse. "Are you ready to ride?"

Elizabeth nodded. Applying pressure with her legs, she urged the horse to move forward. Gently pulling on the left side of the reins, she directed Thor away from the stable and soon had the animal trotting circles on the wide driveway.

William stood back, smiling as he watched how easily Elizabeth handled the horse. "Elizabeth, you're a natural. I don't know why you don't enjoy riding."

She smiled, relishing the feeling of her success in handling the powerful creature beneath her.

"You be careful now," Ralph cautioned her, then after turning a stern eye on William, walked back toward the stable.

William raised a brow at Ralph's retreating figure before casting a curious glance at Elizabeth, then after mounting Gawain, he led the way to the glen.

Keeping their pace slow, Elizabeth gained confidence as a rider while they rode across meadows lush with the beauty of a late spring day and through sparsely wooded areas where the trees filtered the warmth of the sun. After nearly an hour's ride they arrived at a massive grove of trees where William slowed his horse to a stop. Elizabeth followed suit and William was soon at her side helping her to dismount.

Reaching back to rub her haunches, she moaned at the discomfort she felt. William watched her with amusement, then began searching through the overgrowth, looking for traces of the path that he and his youthful companions had trod. It was hardly detectable, with brush and grass covering what remained of it. He cleared much of the path, making it passable.

"There's a secluded spot in the shade where we can tether the horses." He led Gawain toward a shadowy clearing.

Elizabeth followed behind him with Thor. After securing the horses, William removed the saddlebags, flinging them over his shoulder and untied the blanket that rested behind the saddle. Taking Elizabeth's hand, he carefully led her down the trail, amidst the brush and seedlings, until the woods thinned and opened up into a small dale completely surrounded by the grove.

As she looked upon the sheltered hollow, she took in the natural beauty and was reluctant to intrude upon its pristine tranquility when William, placing a hand on her back, urged her to move on.

"This is a beautiful getaway," she commented as she turned to him. "Do you come here often?"

"Rarely these days." After unrolling the blanket, he laid it out on the long grass.

The sun was at its zenith and no shade was to be found, but the air was still cool in the little glen as Elizabeth and William settled on the blanket to share the simple luncheon of fruits, cheeses and the various finger foods William had brought along.

They talked about the trivialities of life and found themselves laughing about the ridiculous escapades of their younger days.

"Are you still prone to that much mischief?" William questioned after hearing Elizabeth's account of painting her grandmother's house with mud.

"I'd like to think I've matured a tiny bit throughout the years!" she said with a glint in her eye. "But I do still have my moments."

Reaching past Elizabeth to grab a napkin, William breathed in her fragrance, closing his eyes to savor it. As he pulled back, he fought the temptation to brush his lips against hers to taste their sweetness. "So, have you started working again?" he asked, trying to redirect his thoughts.

"Working?"

"Yes, that phone call - was that work related?"

"Oh, that. That was an old colleague of mine," she replied. "He calls every now and then, trying to lure me back to work."

"Is he having any success?"

Her eyes brightened as she smiled at him. "Not yet. As you can see I'm still here."

Yes, you are. He smiled, then lying back, placed his hands behind his head and crossed his outstretched legs.

"Are you going to sleep?" Elizabeth asked as she noticed William closing his eyes.

"No, just relaxing."

She took this opportunity to examine him closely. A slight smile curled the corners of his lips, disheveled hair laid about his forehead - the gray less noticeable in the bright sunlight making him appear youthful, even boyish. Lying at his full length, she noted how very tall he was and the trim contours of his chest and abdomen. She blushed as she realized where her thoughts were heading, and quickly spoke to ease her discomfort. "Did you happen to bring a book along with you?"

"Um hmm." His eyes remained closed.

Without hesitating, she reached into the saddlebag and retrieved his book. She looked at the title - Selected Poetry of Lord Byron, then looked over at the reclining man next to her. "Lord Byron?"

"Um hmm." His voice was faint.

"I didn't know you read poetry. Do you like Byron?"

There was no response.

"Are you awake?"

Still no response.

She leaned over closer to William and listened to his deep, even breathing - the man was obviously asleep.

Lying back, cushioning her head on the saddlebags, she opened the volume she held. Leafing through the pages, she skimmed over the poet's larger works, moving on to some shorter poems. After reading several, intrigued with Byron's style and subject matter, a dog-eared page caught her interest.

"She Walks in Beauty" - written after returning from a ball where he had seen the beautiful Lady Wilmot Horton in mourning.

She walks in Beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

Byron's description of the mourning woman touched Elizabeth deeply. He sees the beauty of her eyes - her eyes revealing her internal aspect, her heart.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

She read on, the words not only telling of the physical beauty of the lady's face and hair, but the serenity of her mind, the purity of her thoughts.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

"A heart whose love is innocent," she repeated. What a lovely tribute to this grieving woman whose beauty is revealed not only in her appearance, but in her thoughts and actions as well. Surprised that Byron's words could affect her so profoundly, Elizabeth wiped at the tears that welled in her eyes as she wondered about this lady. Who was she mourning? What relationship did she have with the poet?

Laying the book down, Elizabeth turned onto her side, to face William as he slept soundly. Why did he mark the page with that poem? She wondered.

She watched as his chest rose and fell in rhythmic motion. A gentle breeze swept past, causing William to stir as his unruly hair played on his brow. His scent of sandalwood carried over to her - she breathed it deeply. Her eyes traced the contours of his face, and concentrating on his thick hair, she imagined running her fingers through it. As she lay there gazing at him, she found her eyes drawn to his lips - full, relaxed and inviting.

A rush of wind tousled his hair, stirring William from his slumber. His eyes opened and after registering where he was, he turned to find Elizabeth. She lay next to him, not even an arm's length away, quietly staring at him. Without a word, he reached to stroke the hair that danced on her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. In one fluid movement, he ran his hand down to the back of her neck and gently pulled her forward.

Elizabeth held her breath and parted her lips as William softly brushed his lips across hers in a gentle kiss. He pulled back, looking deeply into her eyes before leaning in to kiss her mouth again - this time with determination. Instinctively her arm wrapped around him, caressing his muscular back. As the kiss deepened, her hand traveled upward, running her fingers through his hair, enflaming the passion within her.

They remained locked in this ardent embrace for several moments until William turned, narrowing the gap between them. As his hand moved from her nape across her shoulder, Elizabeth's impassioned haze began to lift and she abruptly removed her hands from his hair and broke free from his fiery kiss.

Silently, she sat up as he pulled away. They both sat, gazing into each other's eyes, trying to read the other's thoughts, until Elizabeth spoke. "We should probably gather our things and start heading back."

William looked at his watch, and nodded his head. "Yes, it's later than I thought it was."

He stood, then took her hand to help her up and they began to collect their effects.

"I didn't know you enjoyed poetry," Elizabeth mentioned as she packed his book into the saddlebag.

"I do enjoy reading poetry, but don't limit myself to it."

"Is Byron a favorite of yours?"

"Not particularly. There are a few of his poems that I would call favorites, but not Byron himself." Taking the saddlebag from her, William led the way out of the glen.

On the ride back to Cresthaven, Elizabeth and William discussed Lord Byron and poetry in general. William never brought up the poem on the dog-eared page and Elizabeth never mustered the courage to ask him about it, and they both avoided any mention of what had just happened between them in the glen.

Continued In Next Section