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Chapter Ten

Posted on Wednesday, 21 June 2006

Lizzy had stayed up quite late, hoping the dragon would come and pay a visit, though she hardly wanted to admit that, even to herself. She stood by the open window, leaning against the casement and looking out into the velvety night sky, breathing in the scents of flowers and trees and thinking that she was being a very great fool. A very great fool indeed.

If she did not love the man, why did she wish to encourage the dragon to fly past her window again and again? If she did not love the man, why did she want the dragon to come? Why did she want to caress the soft green muzzle again? Was it the dragon or the man who attracted her, or was it both? What was it that drew her so strongly?

It was, she decided later in the night, that he'd been so bereft of affection. Yes, she was sure that was it. He'd been bereft of affection and she wished to have him know that not everyone despised weres. That was the only reason she stood by the window, in her bare feet and nightgown, the chill night air seeping into her room. The reason she stood waiting till her feet were quite cold and her eyes threatening to close under their own weight.

At long last, when she judged from the moon it must be nearing midnight, she went to bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. But a few short hours after falling asleep, violent pounding on the front door of the house awakened her.

Before she could even conjecture what the noise was, the pounding was followed by the sound of the door opening and then a confused babble of voices.

There was obviously some distressing news that had aroused the household. Lizzy was too responsible not to feel called to take some part in the proceedings. Getting up, she pulled on her dressing gown and rushed down the stairs. The tiny entrance hallway was a scene of pandemonium.

Charlotte and Mr. Collins, the latter looking very simian, were standing bundled up in robes in the open doorway. Sir William Lucas hovered at Mr Collins' shoulder, his bed-cap askew. Maria stood a few paces back, her hair tied up in rags, clutching a woollen shawl tightly about herself. A carriage stood in the street, steam rising from the horses' backs as they shuffled restlessly in their harnesses.

In the doorway was a man that Lizzy recognized. Indeed, he was none other than Joseph, her uncle's manservant. "Miss Bennet," he said as he spied her at the foot of the stairs. "These people would not send for you."

"Indeed not," Charlotte said, and turned to Lizzy, looking fully baffled. "This man insisted we should bring you... that we wake you now, in the middle of the night. He would give no explanation but that it had to do with Jane."

"Jane?" Lizzy said, suddenly awake and aware. "What has happened to Jane?"

"Miss Bennet has a fever which, as the doctor says, has turned putrid," Joseph said. He doffed his hat and looked at her earnestly out of his washed-out blue eyes.

A man of near seventy, Lizzy had known him and his unswerving loyalty to her relatives since she was a very young child. She trusted him implicitly.

"Mrs Gardiner wishes you to come, Miss. She thinks Miss Bennet might take a bad turn, and that you would wish to be with her. She said at whatever hour I got here, you were to return with me, right away, and she would send someone for your things later. Miss, it is important..."

"Yes, yes," Lizzy said, thinking there was more involved than a fever, whether putrid or not. "Yes, of course. I shall change out of my night clothes and come right away."

"But Lizzy," cried Charlotte. "Can you not wait till morning? It is but a four-hour drive to London. You would be there before noon, and well rested to help nurse Jane. Your uncle's man could take the carriage to the inn where they can attend to the horses. Can you not see the poor animals are all lathered with sweat?"

"The horses are in fine fettle to journey back to London, M'am," said Joseph to Charlotte. "My groom will rub them down now whilst Miss Elizabeth makes herself presentable."

"I still cannot like it," cried Charlotte as she and Lizzy began up the stairs. "To travel so far so late -- think of the dangers, Lizzy. There could be highwaymen, or the carriage could have an accident, driving so fast in the dark."

"Charlotte," said Lizzy. "Do not worry. Joseph is very able and there is almost a full moon outside."

"A full moon?" cried Maria who was following them up the stairs. "Oh Lizzy! You cannot possibly travel all alone during a full moon!" Her eyes grew as big as saucers and she clutched her shawl even tighter about herself. "You could be set upon by werewolves or were-bears! Father says that a were-dragon has been seen in these parts!"

"Nonsense!" cried Charlotte. "A were-dragon in Kent? Lady Catherine would not allow such a creature in her domain. Do not give credence to rumours, Maria. If Lizzy insists upon travelling tonight I do not want her to be worrying about something so unlikely as a were attack."

Lizzy laughed. "You yourself were trying to frighten me with highwaymen only a moment ago. Do not worry, Charlotte. I am so full of concern for Jane I can think of little else. An attack by were-beasts would be a welcome distraction. My sister is ill and I must be with her. Cannot you understand? I would not sleep at all, knowing that she needs me."

Charlotte sighed. "I know, Lizzy. You are such a good sister. While you dress I shall go to the kitchen and make you a cup of tea to sustain you for your trip."

"Thank you, Charlotte," said Lizzy, hugging her.

As she closed her door behind her, Lizzy heard Maria say to Charlotte. "It was not a rumour! Papa told me. I am so worried for Lizzy with a were-dragon on the loose."

"Hush," said Charlotte. "There are times when it is best to keep your concerns to yourself."

Lizzy rushed to the wardrobe and took out a serviceable gown. As she dressed she allowed a vision of the dragon to pass before her eyes. If he were to accompany her carriage on the road to London, she knew she would gain some measure of comfort from gazing from time to time into his green eyes. But she knew that could not be. And she knew that she must think only of Jane. At this moment she was all that mattered.

When Lizzy came downstairs a few minutes later, Charlotte had a cup of tea and a plate of cakes waiting for her. Lizzy tried her best to eat and drink for Charlotte's sake, but she could think of little more than that Jane needed her, and that the sooner she was in the carriage and on the road to London, the sooner she would be with Jane. She managed one slice of cake and half a cup of tea before she stood and embraced Charlotte.

"I must go."

"Take care Lizzy," said Charlotte. "I hope you find Jane improved upon your arrival."

"I hope so too," said Lizzy and then she hurried out into the night and boarded the carriage. Joseph climbed up on the box beside the coachman and signalled for them to leave. Charlotte stood in the open doorway long after the carriage had driven off into the dark, oblivious to the urgent ‘ook's from her husband who hopped impatiently from one foot to the other beside her.

It wasn't till they were some distance from Hunsford, on the moonlit road, that the carriage stopped. Joseph, who was riding outside next to the coachman, came around and gave Lizzy a sealed letter. "The Mistress said to give you this when away from prying eyes," he said. "She did not want your friends to see or penetrate the content of her missive." He touched his forelock, then left her. The carriage was soon moving again.

Not sure how much Joseph knew or guessed, but sure of his loyalty, she broke the seal on the letter and read:

Dear Lizzy,

By now you will have penetrated my deception, or at least suspected it.

If you have not guessed it, though, let me tell you that Jane does not have a fever. I wish it were that simple. Oh, Lizzy, I dont know how to tell you of it, but I assure you we took all the care we've ever taken in keeping our dear Jane safe in the special room. However, somehow, three days ago she managed to open the secret room and go out into the night.

Dear Lizzy, we have no idea where your sister might be or what kind of danger she is in. Surely, as you know, we were as careful as ever to put her into the locked room, during her difficult time.

But, oh, Lizzy something, possibly some small animal, managed to get through the little ventilation hole at the top of the room adjoining her secret room, which I keep locked. Somehow it managed to open the door and she left during the night. Where Jane might have gone, is anyone's guess.

She's now somewhere in London, alone and undoubtedly frightened. It's been three days and we've done all within our power to recover her. We can only hope that with your special knowledge of your sister, you might yet find her. We shudder to imagine what might befall her in the London streets.

Your fond Aunt,

M. Gardiner.

Lizzy clutched the letter to her chest, wishing she could change the contents. Erase the words and replace them with something benign. Three days. Jane had been lost in the hell of London for three days. When she had thought Jane ill, Lizzy had been filled with worry for Jane; now she was devastated. This was almost the worst possible thing that could have happened. All she could think was that she ought to have been there. She had let Jane down.

"Jane, oh Jane," Lizzy cried, as tears sprang to her eyes. Just then she heard the sound of hooves, frantically chasing the carriage.

What a fool he was. He'd come to her a few hours after midnight, seeking to evade anyone who might set watch for him. He'd come with the silly hope she might touch him again. Why did a touch of hers seem worth every risk? He knew he did not have her love, and yet, he could not give her up. So he came to her when he could no longer withstand the power of the moon and the tug of his yearning. He came to her as dragon.

From the air, fortunately yet at a distance, he'd seen the waiting carriage, the house wakened. He'd seen HER board the carriage and depart. Why? What had happened?

This had all the marks of a disaster. An illness at home, perhaps? Her father? Her mother? One of her sisters? He needed to know -- to discover if there was any way he could be of help. Offer her comfort.

He flew back to Rosings as fast as he could, plunged in through the open balcony doors of his room, already changing back to human form as he landed. Picking up his underwear and putting it on, he went across and knocked at the door of the little dressing room, where his servant slept.

"Jennings, Wake up man," he said. "I need to go out at once. Get me my green jacket and hunting pants and a clean shirt. Quick, man, hurry."

Seconds later, a sleep-beffudled Jennings stumbled into the room, carrying the pants and a blue jacket. Darcy seized the pants and shirt, pulling them on without Jennings help, as he handed back the jacket and said, "No. No. The green one." The one Georgiana said highlighted his eyes. Oh, what a fool he was.

Less than two minutes later, fully dressed and shod, he hurried to the stables where he'd sent Jennings ahead to have a groom prepare his horse.

Mounting his horse, he set off in pursuit of the carriage, on the road to London.

Lizzy looked behind the carriage to see Mr. Darcy, in what seemed a desperate pursuit atop a black palfrey.

Mr. Darcy? Chasing her? What could this mean? In her distress and confusion she was without full command of her powers of reason, but wanting to find an explanation that suited her dilemma; she could only think that he'd somehow heard something about Jane from Mr. Bingley. Mr. Bingley was in London. He was a werewolf. Well, a were-dog like Jane. Wasn't it true that they all knew each other? Bingley must have sent an express.

She banged on the roof of the carriage. "Stop, stop, Joseph. It's Mr. Darcy."

The man must have heard her because the carriage stopped. Mr. Darcy pulled up near the carriage window and bowed to her, still astride his horse.

"Miss Bennet. I was... that is... I'd gone for a late night... er... walk. I saw you leaving. Is everything quite all right? Is there any way in which I can be of service?"

She shook her head. "I'm very afraid," she said, "that in this calamity no one can be of any help."

"You look very ill. Is this... is your family well..."

"My family..." Lizzy shook her head. "It is my sister Jane, you see..." She felt a sinking in her heart. He knew nothing after all -- of course, how could he have? She had been foolish to think otherwise. But he needed an explanation. It was the least she could do after he had followed her out into the night in evident concern for her welfare. Not feeling herself equal to explaining the whole to him, particularly in the veiled terms which the nearness of the coachmen would necessitate, she retrieved the letter from her bosom and passed it to him. Would he understand all the implications from it?

Darcy perused the letter quickly, then once again, slower.
He looked at her. "Her time..." he said.

Lizzy, nodded.

"Like... Mr. Bingley?"

Lizzy nodded again.

"Good God, how could this happen?"

Lizzy gestured for him to mind the coachmen, and he choked back what he was about to say and shook his head. His expression became very solemn. He leaned forward, handing the letter back as he spoke softly, his eyes never leaving her face. "Godspeed and good success Miss Bennet. I fear you've long been desiring my absence."

He then bowed stiffly to her, turned his horse, and spurred it back to his aunt's house at Rosings.

Lizzy watched him go until his horse had become one with the shadows of the trees and the dark of the night. She barely noticed when the carriage began moving again. He had come and he had gone so quickly it was almost as if she had imagined the whole. She was left feeling strangely bereft. What had she expected? That he would go with her? That he would help? That he would stand by her so she did not have to face such dreadful problems alone?

What did she expect from a man she had but recently rejected? He was probably now congratulating himself upon his escape. He, himself, had told her he wanted a wife for procreation. Why would he want to marry into a family whose blood was as tainted as his own, and thus stand a higher chance of bringing this horror upon his own children?

He would not. Lizzy feared, very much, that she would never see him again. She couldn't understand why that realization left her feeling so cold and so very lonely.

Chapter Eleven

Posted on Saturday, 5 August 2006

Lizzy slept and woke, woke and slept again fitfully, while the wheels of the carriage trundled beneath her along the road to London. Sometimes in her dream it seemed to her she heard great wings overhead, and once, while awake, she twitched the curtain aside and was certain she could see, against the sky, the silhouette of a dragon in full flight.

But she was not a fool and, as they got to London in the cold dispirited light of an overcast dawn, she had to admit that she'd probably dreamed of both the sounds and the shape of the dragon against the sky. And dreaming of it, knowing it wasn't true, made her all the more regretful. He was lost to her, now when she finally understood his true worth. He had no reason to follow her; to fly above her carriage as a fearsome winged escort in the dead of night. She was on her own, and it was up to her, and her alone, to help Jane. Regrets could wait. She had to find her sister.

Joseph helped her from the carriage at her uncle's home, and she had no more than set foot on the bottom stone step of the handsome townhouse than the entrance door opened wide. Mrs. Gardiner stood in the opening, waiting. She received Lizzy with great affection, but made nothing but the most polite enquiries until -- under cover of taking Lizzy to her sister, she took her into the room which gave access to the more secret chamber where Jane had been locked. When they were finally alone, she clutched Lizzy's hands and stared into her eyes, allowing her concern to show on her face.

"You see, Lizzy," Mrs. Gardiner said. "It would have been impossible for her to have got out on her own. Our security was as good as ever, or so we thought. But we were protecting her from herself -- we never expected someone would attempt to free her."

"Hush, Aunt. Do not fret. I know you did all that was in your power to protect Jane."

"There was some great mischief, and I can only conjecture that something with the power to turn into a very small creature must have found its way into this room. A were-bat, perhaps. Or a were-mouse."

"Aunt," Lizzy said, rubbing Mrs Gardiner's hands in consolation. Calming her aunt was difficult with her own distress rising. She looked at the bare chamber where Jane had spent her nights. There was a small, simple bed and, on the floor, a cushion, where most likely she'd been sleeping. And on the only chair -- in the corner -- lay a piece of embroidery, upon which she'd been working little by little in the evenings, till her urges got too strong and she had changed shape. "Such creatures have never been seen or heard of, or at least have never been recorded in history. Certainly..."

"Oh, I know, but how else can you explain it? How else did she escape from here, but that someone opened that secret door? But no one could have come to the room to open the door because there is only one key to the chamber, and I wear it on a chain about my neck at all times. The only explanation is that someone gained entrance through the small crack under the window, which we opened barely an inch for ventilation."

Lizzy sighed. "I have no understanding of it, Aunt," she said. She took off her bonnet and ran her hand through her hair. "And even less do I have a solution. How are we to find her? What has been done to discover her?"

"Everything we could think of," her aunt said. "Your uncle and Joseph have scoured the streets day and night since we found she was gone. We did all we could before we thought to worry you."

He should never have flown to London. It was folly, the sheerest folly, exposing himself in such a manner to all the world. Anyone looking at the sky could have seen the dragon. And anyone who saw the dragon would know to call the RWH. If there were beasts that elicited the kinder emotions of men, or doubt as to their dangerousness, the dragon was not one of them.

But to follow upon horse would have taken too long. And besides, Darcy had given in to his deepest desires. He could no longer reason logically. He -- who so often exhorted Charles to control his baser were-instincts -- could now do no more than follow his instinct and his most foolish impulses.

But even in foolishness he was cautious. Before changing to his dragon form, he took his horse back to the stables and gave him to the care of a sleepy stable boy. Then he went up to his room, taking heed to listen and make certain his servant had gone back to sleep. Getting a bag from his wardrobe -- a satchel-like sack with a long carrying strap -- Darcy undressed and put into it all his clothes, as well as enough money to see him through, should he need to change shapes in a strange place. He wrapped the strap loosely around his wrist. Then he went to the balcony and jumped, shifting as he did, and spread his wings towards London.

Propelling himself through the night air with powerful strokes, it didn't take long for him to catch up with the travelers. On the road beneath, he could see Elizabeth's carriage, slowly making its way to the city. He wished he could be in the carriage with her, offering what consolation was in his power. But most of all, he wanted to put his arms around her and press her to him, stroke her cheek, kiss away her tears. These were strange thoughts to be coursing through the dragon's mind, but he did not care. All that concerned him now was her safety and her happiness.

Thoughts of Jane and Bingley haunted his mind. What a fool he'd been to keep them apart. It didn't make him feel any better that Elizabeth, too, had thought they should be kept apart, that she had no idea that Bingley was a were-dog, just as he had never suspected Jane suffered from the same affliction. That they were perfect for each other.

He flew in time with the carriage for a few miles, relishing in the knowledge that Elizabeth was below him, and he could protect her from any danger the night may afford. He resisted his desire to fly low, to look in through the windows for a glimpse of her face, her eyes. He knew flying to her would do nothing but increase her distress. And he knew that as much as he wanted to fly above her carriage as escort the entire way, time was of the essence.

Instead, he circled above the carriage one last time, then strengthening the strokes of his muscular wings, set off for London to an area he'd used before, where the blind backs of three buildings formed a sheltered area to land in. The cobbled yard in between was strewn with old furniture and broken prams and other discards of city living -- the kind that accumulate in any hidden space. He landed carefully, avoiding the debris with his taloned feet. As he landed, he willed his human mind to take over the beast, and no sooner had talons scraped cobbles than it was bare toes searching for purchase as the force of his landing threw him off balance.

Darcy quickly unwound the satchel from his wrist, and in the shadow of a decrepit armoire he dressed himself as best he could. He knew his neck cloth would not pass scrutiny in daylight, but dawn was not yet upon him, and if seen in the still-dark streets, he would be indistinguishable from any other gentleman who had imbibed a little more than was good for him.

Though the landing place was in a less than savory locale, it was a short walk to the Darcy townhouse. In the east, a delicate rose streaked the London skyline as Darcy banged upon his door. If his butler was surprised to see him unannounced at such an early hour and with no visible means of transportation, he did not show it.

Darcy went up to his study and rifled through his desk drawers. He didn't know what, exactly, he was looking for, but he had to engage in some pursuit until he could safely call upon Bingley.

If Caroline Bingley was surprised as her footman showed Darcy into her drawing room, she didn't show it. Instead, she rose from her chair eagerly.

"Mr. Darcy," she said. "So kind of you to come. Indeed, I expected nothing else of your kindness and care for us."

Her greeting momentarily confused Darcy. What kindness was it that he was performing? His visits to his friend were natural, commonplace occurrences. When they were both in town they were always in each other's company. But Miss Bingley left him no time for further conjecture, so eager was she to show her appreciation of his beneficence.

"Tell me what news you have of my brother. How like him to leave without word -- he has no consideration for a sister's feelings at all. But I knew I could rely upon you -- a friend is always in the know."

"Bingley is not at home?"

"Mr Darcy! You are funning me, to be sure. Wht else can you have come than to set my mind at rest? Is it the races at Newcastle? Or has he driven his curricle to Harrogate on some obnoxious dare? The larks young men get up to these days!"

"How long has your brother been gone?"

"These two days at the very least," cried Caroline. "I attended a soiree at Lady Jersey's as the guest of my new friend Elizabeth Elliot, so I had no need of his escort. He said something about going to White's. I have not seen him since."

First Miss Bennet was missing and now Bingley! Darcy could not but believe there was some sort of connection, but he saw no purpose in sharing his concerns with Miss Bingley. Though he abhorred deceit, he believed that the kindest thing to do, at this juncture, was to set her mind at ease until he knew there was truly a need for her to worry.

"If he went to White's, then no doubt it is as you say," said Darcy. "He must have become embroiled in a rash bet that involved a challenge."

"You do not know? I was sure he would have done nothing, however hare-brained, without your approval."

"Madam," said Darcy severely. "I am not your brother's keeper. He has the ability to follow his own judgment. Besides, I have been in Kent and only just returned to Town."

Caroline simpered. "And your first thought was to visit me."

"I came looking for your brother -- but I will now go to White's. I will send a note when I discover his whereabouts, but in all probability he will walk through the door before long."

"You are too good," she said as he took his leave.

Darcy walked down the steps and hailed a hackney. If Bingley were missing and Miss Bennet were missing, could it be that they were together somewhere, or had they both been discovered in their changed forms and reported to the RWH? That thought was frightening to consider, but it was a fear that hovered constantly in the back of every lycanthrope's mind. But if any weres had been caught recently, rumor would be rife. He directed the driver to take him to White's and then leaned back in the seat. If the RWH had captured any were-creatures, the denizens of the men's club would know of it first.

At the club Darcy sat at his usual table and ordered a brandy. He sipped it as he discreetly listened to the conversations around him. He overheard nothing but the usual bored social banter. Some acquaintances approached him and exchanged greetings. All he was able to ascertain was that Bingley had not been seen at the club for over a week. He finished his drink and left.

All day Darcy walked the less reputable streets of London, stopping at the inns and public houses that he passed along the way. Trying not to draw too much attention to himself, he searched the hazy rooms with his intent gaze and listened to the general hubbub with the appearance of disinterest. Occasionally he asked a question of the tapster or a barmaid.

He returned to his townhouse late in the night, weary and dejected. The only thing he knew for certain was that if either Bingley or Miss Bennet had been captured by the RWH, it was being kept a supreme secret. He gave himself up to the ministrations of his manservant, and then sat for some time before his fire in his bed attire. He was no closer to knowing the whereabouts of Miss Bennet or his friend. He felt he was failing them. But most of all, he felt he was failing Elizabeth. He remembered the look of despair upon her face when she gave him the letter that told of her sister's disappearance. He had to erase that pain. He could not fail her.

Lizzy gazed out the drawing room window upon Gracechurch Street. It had been a long and fruitless day. The lamplighter was going up the street, lighting all the lamps as the sky darkened to indigo. Jane was somewhere out there, lost and alone. Or captured by the Royal Were Hunters. Her uncle insisted it was not the case. He said that if anyone had been caught, the news would be on the street, but Lizzy could not help but let her worst fears haunt her.

She felt completely useless. Since her arrival in the morning, she had done little more than talk with her aunt and uncle, go out for a walk with her aunt through a very respectable neighborhood, and play dispiritedly with her cousins.

All the time she tried to solve the puzzle of where Jane might be. Of why she did not return to Gracechurch Street when the morning light had dawned and the moon no longer had its hold upon her. Of who it was that had let her out of her room. Who could have known she was in there? The room, along with Jane's shifting affliction, was a deeply held secret. But what was more worrying than even that was the idea of a were-creature so small it could squeeze through a crack in a casement and release Jane while she was under the influence of the moon. And to what purpose?

The thoughts raced back and forth in her head, but she could make no sense of anything at all. The only thing she knew was that her sweet Jane, who she had vowed to protect with her life, was gone, and she was doing nothing to get her back. It was insupportable!

Lizzy was certain she would not be able to sleep, no -- she would not be able to live with herself, if she did not do something. She stood and tiptoed out of the room. Her uncle was still in his study. Her aunt was in the nursery putting the children to bed. Lizzy retrieved her pelisse and bonnet from the cloakroom and then went out to the foyer. She tried the front door. The bolt had not yet been shot for the night and it opened smoothly and quietly. She slipped out into the dimly let street. She had no idea where she was going to go to search for Jane, but at least she was doing something.

There no longer were lights on the streets Lizzy was walking. All that lit her way was the silver light from the risen moon, and the flickering glow that seeped from un-curtained windows. She didn't know how long she had been wandering up and down the streets, leaning close to the walls of buildings when people passed by in the hopes of making herself invisible. She had been lucky. There had been a few leers, but no one had accosted her.

Lizzy didn't know what good she was doing, going from one dark street to the next, or how in the world she was going to help Jane by doing so. But there was one thing she knew for certain. She was totally and undeniably lost.

And as she trudged along she attempted to keep her mind on Jane, trying to guess at where she would go in her changed form in a city such as this. At Longbourn there were fields to run in - pastures, meadows, lanes. Here there was nothing but cobbles and hulking, shadowy buildings rising up. Narrow, winding streets, intersected with darker alleyways. Horses pulling laden carts up and down the roads and skinny dogs slinking in the shadows.

And then Lizzy had it -- there were parks in the city too. Huge expanses of lawn and trees and flowerbeds. If Jane were running loose in London in her dog form, would she not prefer Hyde or Green Park to the grimy streets?

Lizzy needed to find a park, but she had no idea how to get to one of the larger ones, even from Gracechurch Street. Lost as she was she had even less hope of discovering one. And on no account would she approach anybody to ask her way until she found herself in a more respectable district.

As she turned down one street and up the next, Lizzy found it difficult to keep her mind from straying to thoughts of Mr Darcy. If only he were with her. Just his presence would build up the courage that was failing her, The fear that had her cowering right against the buildings, where she found safety in the deeper darkness. Mr Darcy with his vivid green eyes, and his gleaming gold scales. Thoughts of the man and the dragon mingled in her mind confusedly.

Darcy gave up trying to sleep. There was a moon outside taunting him, and although he knew he could withstand its pull he also knew that either Miss Bennet or Bingley could be caught in its sway, roaming the streets of London in changed form, easy prey to the RWH who patrolled the city more than any other place in the country.

He dressed and went out the front door without alerting his servants. He walked along side streets until he came to the bank of the Thames. The moon shone down upon the river, magnifying its glow. He felt a surge in his body that he had to control. He turned from the river and made his way down a maze of narrow lanes and cavernous closes. He didn't know what it was, but something was drawing him. Something that had more power on him than even the moon.

Darcy felt the tension increase and he picked up speed, almost running through the dark, deserted streets. He heard muted noises that sharpened to the sounds of growls and barking as he turned into an alley a little wider than those he had just passed through. The moon was streaming down upon a pack of wild dogs. These were not the meek, scabby curs that slunk behind market stalls, but true hunters. And they had their prey at bay, trapped against a stone wall that blocked off the alley.

The prey were two dogs -- one that Darcy knew very well by sight, the other a dog that had once been described to him by his friend upon their first coming to Hertfordshire. Bingley and Miss Bennet in their were forms! Bingley was standing a little ahead of Miss Bennet, his hackles raised, snarling fiercely. She was bravely facing the pack too, her teeth bared.

Darcy looked about for something -- a stone or a stick to throw at the pack of wild dogs, to distract them, when suddenly, from a darkened archway there came a startled gasp. The pack of dogs turned their heads as one.

"Jane!" cried Elizabeth, stepping out from the shadows. The dogs shifted in her direction.

"No! Get back!" yelled Darcy.

Elizabeth stared across the alleyway at Darcy. The moon held her in its embrace and he could see the look in her eyes. It was something more powerful that fear.

"Get Jane out of here!" she cried, as the dogs rushed towards her, snarling and yapping like a pack that knows its fox is cornered.

Darcy felt as if his head were exploding. He heard his clothes rip and fire rippled through his veins.

"Elizabeth!"

It started as a scream, and ended in a roar as his huge dragon wings unfurled and he lunged forward.

Chapter Twelve

Posted on Monday, 10 December 2007

"Elizabeth!"
It started as a scream, and ended in a roar as his huge dragon wings unfurled and he lunged forward.

The dogs that had been fast approaching Elizabeth balked at the sudden sound. The leader turned, his hackles still raised, as the green and gold dragon swooped towards him. From the look of terror in the wild dog's eyes, it was clear he had never seen a sight so ferocious and other-worldly in the stinking alleys he called home. The other dogs, attuned to their leader's every action, sensed his stillness and an unusual emotion emanating from him. They turned as well, and stood frozen in fear, their prey forgotten.

In her position backed against a brick wall, Elizabeth trembled. When she had faced the attacking dogs to distract them from Jane, her fear had been replaced by a sudden rushing in her veins. Now all she had eyes for was the dragon. When her name had broken from Darcy's lips to tear the through the darkness and the frantic barking of the wild dogs, she had been overcome with feeling as powerful as it was indescribable. That he should be there at the exact moment she needed him most! That he should call her name and change form in the city, risk his life by exposing all! She stared, enthralled, as his voice distorted from a cry to a roar, and his clothes ripped apart. Toned muscled rippled with iridescent scales and transformed into wings and a sinuous torso. And then he took to the air in the confines of the alley and swooped low towards the dogs. She had never seen anything so beautiful and menacing. Torn between terror and sheer enjoyment of his supernatural beauty, she forgot to breathe and could hardly think.

She was momentarily transfixed, and then, realizing the dogs had shifted their focus, she edged away, hurrying towards the other frightened dogs that were Jane and Charles. If she thought at all about the wild dogs' fate -- that they would surely soon be torn limb from limb or burned crisp in a burst of flame -- she felt no revulsion at the idea that a gentleman turned dragon would partake of such a horror. What outweighed every other consideration was dear Jane's safety.

The dragon roared again, and closed in on the wild dogs with another great flap of his wings. The leader suddenly sprang to life as a talon swiped past its face. He let out a frantic yelp as he found himself trapped, his back against the wall where he'd kept Elizabeth at bay against only moments before. The other dogs scattered into the night, down gutters, through crumbled doorways: any tiny avenue of escape they could discover. The lone dog cowered and whimpered in the face of the dragon, blood running in a thin line down its nose.

Alighting on the cobbles, the dragon lowered its open maw, teeth flashing in the moonlight, and closed around the miserable cur's neck.

Elizabeth heard Jane gasp at her side, and turned from the grisly spectacle to see that her sister had changed back into her human form, and was crouched naked by her side. The spotted hunting dog stood close by in an attempt to hide her unclothed body from view.

"Jane!" Elizabeth cried, pulling off her cloak and throwing it around her sister's shoulders. "Thank God I have found you!"

"He must not kill him!" Jane moaned.

"But if Darcy had not arrived that dog would have done its best to tear you limb from limb!"

"He is only a beast, following instincts that have been twisted by life in this cruel city!"

At that same moment, with a swing of his supple neck, the dragon hurled the dog down the alley. Elizabeth was amazed to see the heap of mangy hair and bones that she was certain no longer lived drag itself to its feet and run off yelping. At her side Jane heaved a sigh of relief.

"Darcy is always careful keep his conduct, especially when in dragon form. The same rules that keep him civil to the lower orders of society make him kind to helpless animals. More so, he says, since they're not touched by reason and therefore can't help acting as they do," said Bingley who had returned to himself. In an attempt at modesty he held a corner of Jane's cloak just below his waist, doing his best to hide that most private area of his anatomy. "He has sworn never to kill while in his dragon form, animal or human. He could not live with himself if he did."

Elizabeth tried her best not to look at Bingley. "Jane! Why did you leave our aunt's? How came the two of you here and together?"

"There is no time to answer questions," said Bingley. "We must be gone before the were hunters get wind of us. A dragon in the city cannot go unnoticed."

They heard feet pounding and saw a trail of lanterns approaching. The dragon flew close and crouched before them.

"He wants us to climb aboard," said Bingley.

"But . . . will not the three of us be too great a load?" asked Jane.

"It is our only hope of escape!" cried Bingley. "They are fast approaching."

Completely forgetting his unclothed state, he grabbed up Jane and tossed her upon the dragon's back and then reached a hand out to Elizabeth. She climbed on in front of Jane and wound her arms around the dragon's neck as Bingley threw himself up behind. Her cheek was pressed against the dragon's ear as he fanned out his wings and rose in a steep spiral, landing upon a darkened balcony two stories above the street. She believed she could feel the very pulse of his great heart's beat against her skin and she felt a tear of relief and fear slide down her face to drop on his warm scales.

No sooner had they touched down on the cold stone and hidden themselves behind the balustrade a troop of RWH soldiers marched into the cobbled area they had just departed.

"By all reports there was a were-dragon here!" came one voice.

"And were-hounds!" came another.

The lanterns circled. "They could not have vanished into thin air!"

"The dragon could have flown."

All heads went up, as if searching the sky.

"With such a full moon we should see the monstrosity!"

"They must have changed form and are now masquerading as humans!"

"Search every house. They will not escape us!"

They watched through the stone railing as the soldiers dispersed and banged upon doors. The dragon swished his tail and Bingley looked at him steadily, as if reading his expression.

"Darcy thinks we should leave at once and I am of the same mind," whispered Bingley.

"But . . . will they not spot the dragon as he flies away?"

"As soon as all the soldiers have entered the houses we must go. Quick, onto the dragon's back in readiness," hissed Bingley. "It is our only chance -- we must take the risk."

Elizabeth could barely breathe as she settled on the dragon's back once more and pressed her body against the warm scales of his neck and shoulders. It was unthinkable, really, that she was on Mr Darcy's back, her thighs holding on around his ribs, her heart beating into his flesh. She had to think of him as a dragon -- that was the only way to manage it. Otherwise, surely, their position must be most improper.

Moments later thought was not possible at all as the dragon lifted off from the balcony, slowly at first with its heavy burden, attempting to flap his sail-like wings with as little noise as feasible. With the moon so bright in the sky, they would have been clearly visible for miles around if the dragon had flown high, so he kept close to the rooftops, neatly maneuvering over gables and around chimney pots. A fog of coal smoke enveloped them and, as Elizabeth coughed, she heard the dragon clear his throat -- a most human sound. She trailed her fingers soothingly along his neck and thought she detected the smallest of sighs.

"Where are we going?" Elizabeth finally thought to ask.

"Darcy's townhouse. He has a specially designed balcony with French doors that are never locked. We will be safe there, if we can manage to arrive before dawn breaks."

Sure enough, the sky was lightening. A pallid wash of grey in the east was becoming suffused with palest yellow and a hint of rose. Smoke was beginning to rise from chimneys as the London servants began their workdays, so much earlier than the masters that they served. The dragon took on speed now, swiftly swooping across open areas then twisting and turning around the obstacles of London's rooftop world.

"There it is!" said Bingley, his voice almost lost in the rush of wind the dragon's speed had created.

They swirled down onto a secluded balcony, high on the back wall of a lofty townhouse. They alighted quickly and Bingley rushed over to a potted plant in one corner, emerging with a neat pile of clothing. He laid some of the raiment before the dragon and then returned to the dark corner to dress as rapidly as possible.

Elizabeth averted her eyes but some impulse she couldn't name kept part of her attention on him so that, out the corner of her eye, she saw the dragon shift from glowing, sinuous gold and green scales to naked human perfection. Jane, by her side, pulled the cloak more firmly about herself, but otherwise showed no embarrassment at the sight of two naked gentlemen dressing themselves on a moonlit balcony.

When Darcy was fully clothed he addressed Elizabeth. "I must apologise for again appearing before you in such a state, but it couldn't be helped."

"I completely understand," she said. "Please think nothing of it. I must thank you for saving Jane."

"And for saving Lizzy, and Mr Bingley," said Jane hurriedly.

"It pays to have a fearsome friend like Darcy in such situations," said Bingley with one of his engaging smiles.

Darcy opened the doors and invited them into his house. The French doors opened onto a small sitting room with comfortable, ample armchairs, upholstered in the most elegant pale yellow silk. Motioning for the ladies to sit down, Darcy tugged on the bell pull.

"You must have some tea," he said. "My man has been with my family for years and is the soul of discretion. He will attend to everything personally."

Elizabeth sat and thought how bizarre the night had become. She had gone from wandering the city despondently, being trapped by rabid dogs, saved by a dragon, flying desperately over the city, to being offered tea as if she were on a social call.

"My sister is in need of a gown," she said. She knew she was imposing very terribly on the gentleman, yet again, but she saw no way around it. She and Jane would need to take a hackney or to walk to Gracechurch Street and Jane could not do so barefoot and naked beneath a flimsy cloak.

"I beg your pardon," Darcy said, and looked mortified. "I should have thought about it, of course. I made provisions for Bingley and myself for... these circumstances. But not for... a lady. If you will follow me, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, I think I can provide for Miss Bennet's needs." Darcy led them down the hall where he stopped before a door and knocked. "Georgiana," he said in a loud whisper. "Are you up?" He scratched, gently at her door.

The door opened quickly. "Fitzwilliam! I was so worried when I realized . . . oh!" The girl's face suffused with red when she noticed that her brother was not alone. The blush made her appear even younger.

"May I present Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Miss Bennet requires your help with a clothing problem."

Georgiana opened her door wide and smiled timidly at the two ladies. "I am so pleased to meet you. I... My brother has spoken..." She stopped in a confusion of shyness. "Please, do come in."

Darcy bowed and backed away, telling the ladies that tea and scones would be awaiting them when they were ready.

"We are almost of a size," said Georgiana surveying Jane, "though I am a trifle taller than you are, Miss Bennet. I am sure we can find something in my wardrobe."

Elizabeth was torn between relief and amazement at Miss Darcy's easy acceptance of a naked lady coming into the house with her brother. How strange, she thought, the circumstances that a well brought up young lady should easily accept what would otherwise be beneath reproach. She must be used to these situations. Well, perhaps not with ladies. But she must be used to these circumstances as I am. We've both grown up protecting a sibling whose condition imperils his or her life -- a sibling who would be killed for the sin of being born with a dreadful condition.

Miss Darcy, in the act of throwing open the door to her dressing room, looked at Elizabeth. Their eyes met for a moment, and Elizabeth was sure that Miss Darcy understood her perfectly. The girl smiled shyly, as though thinking that here was someone who knew what her life was. But at the back of Georgiana's eyes there was a deeper sadness that no smile could touch. Elizabeth remembered that Georgiana's fiancé had been a were. And killed for it.

"If you'll come into my dressing room, Miss Bennet," Georgiana said. "All of my clothing is at your disposal." Quickly, she suggested a chemise, gown, stockings, and even shoes. Elizabeth helped Jane dress while Georgiana shyly looked on.

"I have heard so much about you, Miss Elizabeth," she said, "and have long wanted to meet you, only these circumstances are quite unexpected."

"Indeed," said Elizabeth. "I would imagine that most of your guests do not call quite so early."

"Or expect to be clothed," added Jane.

Georgiana looked at Elizabeth speculatively. "Sometimes..." she said, then shook her head. "You do not become a were, Miss Elizabeth?"

"No, only my sister," smiled Elizabeth.

"You can trust me to keep her secret."

"And you can trust us with your brother's secret as well."

"He told me that you had sympathies for lycanthropes," said Georgiana. "I am so pleased to meet someone I am able to speak freely with about such things. I am usually very nervous in company for fear I will inadvertently give something away."

"I know how you must feel," said Elizabeth and reached over to squeeze Miss Darcy's hand reassuringly. "Before this only my aunt and uncle and myself knew of Jane's affliction. Such openness has never been possible. The necessity of being secretive all the time can be stressful."

"Oh yes!" cried Georgiana. "Oh, yes, very much so." Tears in her eyes spoke of probable memories of her dead fiancé.

Elizabeth looked away, and hoped that Georgiana could feel her sympathy and understanding. She found herself wishing very much that Georgiana lived closer to Longbourn. She could not, of course, correspond with Miss Darcy on this subject, but it would have been such a relief to have someone with whom to share her dreadful family secret.

As soon as Jane was dressed, all three joined the gentlemen in the small salon. The tea tray was awaiting them. Georgiana did the honors as hostess and poured tea while Darcy passed around buttered scones. He waited until they had all drunk and eaten a bit before he brought up the question that was uppermost in everyone's minds.

"Miss Bennet, do you have any idea how you came to be released from the room at your relatives' house?"

Jane became thoughtful. "I have pondered upon that these past three days, during my ordeal in the city. I was changed already, you see, when it happened. I dimly remember pawing at the door and then . . . it opened. I was through it before I could think and restrain my animal side. And then . . . freedom overtook me. I ran for the simple joy of being outdoors under the moon. I wanted to find a park, larger than the small one near my uncle's home. Before I knew it, I was lost. I am so sorry that I lost self control and caused so much worry for everyone."

"You were not to blame," said Bingley, rising at once to her defense. "Of course you could not help yourself. I know that feeling of need all too well."

"Do you remember anything else?" asked Elizabeth. "No one in that household would unlock that door."

Jane's brow wrinkled. "I remember a smell . . . something unusual. The dog in me wanted to chase it up a tree or down a burrow . . . not a squirrel or a hare . . . something malevolent . . . I've got it -- weasel!"

Darcy's face darkened. "You're certain it was weasel?" His voice was tense, almost tinged with anger.

Jane appeared taken aback. "Well . . . I am almost certain . . . it was musky and . . ." She trailed off.

"Darcy!" cried Bingley. "Cannot you see Miss Bennet has been through enough already? For three days she has lived in fear in the worst slums in town."

"I am sorry if I have alarmed you, Miss Bennet," said Darcy apologetically. "It is just that the circumstances are so suspicious and weasel means only one thing to me." But shook his head, as if at his own thoughts, and he did not go on to elucidate what one thing it was. "Bingley -- how did you come to be with Miss Bennet? Your sister told me she had not seen you in two days."

"I was on my way to White's when I had a sudden urge -- not the urge to change -- an urge to walk where I had not planned to go. It was as if I was being drawn somewhere. And all the time Miss Bennet was on my mind. I think subconsciously, I smelled her scent." He blushed. "By day's end the feeling became stronger and stronger and then it was intermingled completely with the urge to change form. I admit that I lost control and . . . the next thing I knew I was in my dog shape, running through alleyways until I met the same dog that I had met while staying at Netherfield." His eyes glowed softly as he related this part of his story. "It was foolish I know, but we ran together, just enjoying being in each other's company. At dawn we found ourselves under a bridge, changing back to our human forms. Luckily there was some long grass for Miss Bennet and me to hide in. We were both naked -- I could do nothing to help her in that state because I could not leave her alone, unguarded in that part of London. We decided to stay all day under the bridge and then, at night, I was to lead her to Gracechurch Street in dog form. We talked and we slept, and then we shifted form and started out through the alleyways of town, where we were set upon by that pack of wild dogs."

As he told the story, Elizabeth took Jane's hand and stroked it. "My poor Jane," she said when Bingley had finished. "What a harrowing experience."

"At least that second day out, with Mr Bingley for company, was by far better than the first, when I was all alone and scared out of my wits that someone would find me, curled up in a corner behind a pile of rubbish."

Elizabeth pulled Jane into her arms and stroked her hair. "It is over now, dearest, and you are safe." She turned to Mr Darcy. "I thank you for your hospitality, but I think it must be safe now for us to go abroad. My aunt and uncle are very worried -- We must -- It is incumbent upon us to relieve their anxiety as soon as we may. We cannot justify leaving them in such suffering a second longer than needed. If you will but direct us we will be on our way."

"I will order the carriage," said Darcy.

"Will there not be suspicions? Two ladies leaving your house so early in the day, and nothing to explain their presence in the first place?"

"Georgiana will take you through the house and let you out into the street with no one seeing you. My man often takes the carriage out for me, so no suspicions will be raised in the stables. He will meet you at the door and the two of you will be inside the carriage so quickly, none will be the wiser."

"One would almost think you are accustomed to such clandestine measures," said Elizabeth, saucily.

"I promise you," sad Darcy, "this is the first time I have had occasion to secretly transport ladies from any establishment of mine." His tone was severe. "There have however... been other moments of ... There have been other friends in need."

"Darcy extends his protection to all his friends," Bingley said.

As Darcy left the room to make the arrangements, Elizabeth blushed with embarrassment at her misplaced levity and with a strange, warm, blushing feeling at the idea that Darcy had just called her a friend. He who had been so horribly misjudged by her.

The plan went without a hitch and soon Elizabeth and Jane were in a darkened -- and very opulent -- carriage being whisked through the streets of London to Gracechurch Street.

"Oh Lizzy!" said Jane. "I know it was a terrible thing to happen, but at least something good has come out of it. Mr Bingley has asked if he may call on me at the Gardiners'"

"And what did you tell him?" asked Elizabeth, teasingly.

"I said I should be very pleased if he did. That was not wrong of me, was it?"

"No Jane. Though I fear if he sees you again he will not be able to stop himself from falling even deeper in love with you than he already is."

"Lizzy! We are simply acquaintances, nothing more," Jane said unconvincingly. Then she giggled. "Isn't it amazing that Mr Bingley and my spotted hunting dog are one and the same person?"

"It is," said Elizabeth. "I am so happy for you, Jane."

The rest of the way to Gracechurch Street, Jane smiled in a bubble of euphoria. Elizabeth was glad for her sister. It seemed everything would work out for her and Mr Bingley. They had so much in common and they were both so much in love. At least someone would be happy because she was certain she had missed the only opportunity she would ever have for happiness.

Mr Darcy had been helpful and kind. He had endangered himself to save Jane and Charles. He had gone so far as to call her a friend. But the truth was that he must have been out looking for Charles, worried about his friend just as she was worried about her sister. It was true that before he had changed to dragon form he had called her name. Elizabeth. But she had been in danger and he was warning her -- nothing more. After the things she had said to his face, her disgraceful accusations about him and Bingley being lovers -- she knew that was unforgivable. She had lowered herself in his eyes for certain, showing the base routes her mind could run. And then today she had done something quite similar -- her silly joke about secretly getting ladies out of his house. She had said it without thinking of the implications -- but upon his severe reaction she knew he could only believe her thoughts coarse and depraved. He probably believed her to be joking -- joking! -- about illicit relationships. And before his sister, too!

Oh, he would treat her with politeness as the sister of his best friend's love, and he would show her kindness because he truly was the best of men, but he would never again ask her to marry him. And now she could think of nothing she desired more than to be his wife. Dragon or man he was the most worthy of beings.

Again the image of his glowing body as he changed from dragon to human returned to her. She remembered the amazing sensation of riding on the dragon's back and holding that warm golden-scaled body against her own, knowing all the time that the dragon and Darcy were one and the same. At least she would always have that to remember.

But she wanted more. She wanted those emerald eyes -- the dragon's and Mr Darcy's -- to gaze into hers and tell her she would never have to be alone again.

A tear slid down her cheek, followed by another one. Even with Jane by her side, she felt most horribly lonely.

Chapter Thirteen

Posted on Saturday, 29 December 2007

The next morning Mr Bingley lost no time in paying a call.

Elizabeth, who had seen the looks exchanged by her sister and the amiable young man, was not surprised at all at his appearing at the Gardiners' doorstep as early as it was decent to call. What surprised Elizabeth, though, was that he did not come unaccompanied. His friend Mr Darcy was with him, looking as severe as Elizabeth remembered him from the early days in Netherfield. It was difficult to believe that this austere gentleman was the same one she had watched change to and from the dragon form just a short time before.

She couldn't help remembering the shimmering green and gold scales she had pressed herself against as they flew through the night sky, or the golden hued skin the scales had transformed to, the rippling muscles, the beauty of his naked form. She blushed at her thoughts, so out of place in her aunt's drawing room with its formal atmosphere, and clasped her hands together primly in her lap. When she had composed herself enough to look up, she found Mr Darcy's green eyes directed upon her, and their expression made her cheeks flame once more. The dragon was indeed not far buried in their emerald depths.

Mr and Mrs Gardiner had been told some of what Jane had gone through during her ordeal in the city, but not enough to give away the secret that the two gentlemen were also weres. They knew the gentlemen had aided their nieces, but nothing more, though they had their suspicions that more was involved than a fortuitous meeting in which the gentlemen had scared off a pack of wild dogs that had cornered the girls in an alley.

This morning visit proved to them that, with at least two of the parties, it was clearly a case of reciprocated love. With the other two, nothing was plain. That there was attraction was evident, but it was also evident that pains were being taken on both sides to hide this attraction. As Mrs Gardiner played hostess she paid close attention to every nuance of conversation, every surreptitious glance, the slightest tell-tale movement. The protection of her nieces was her paramount concern. Love could conquer many obstacles, but Jane's condition was a greater impediment than most had to face in the course of true love. Mrs. Gardiner was not sure that Lizzy would ever trust to another the protection of her sister. And, in fact, if Jane were determined to marry -- and certainly Mr. Bingley seemed determined to marry her -- Mrs. Gardiner was sure that Lizzy intended to follow her sister and help her contrive to hide her condition in her new estate as she had up till then. Many a love affair had crumbled over much more superficial problems.

The two, however, did look to be as in love as anyone could possibly be. Jane glowed with a quiet radiance while Mr Bingley overflowed with exuberant bonhomie. He politely conversed with all present, but his eyes returned always to Jane.

"I believe there is a park to be found in this neighbourhood," he said to Mrs Gardiner.

"Yes, sir," said she. "It is small but considered quite fine, even though it borders on one side upon warehouses. There is a lovely avenue of limes leading up to an ornamental pond."

"A duck pond, rather!" laughed Mr Gardiner.

"I am very partial to ducks! Finest of fowl!" cried Bingley. "I feel a great urge to see them, and I cannot but think that a walk out in the fresh air upon a sunny day such as this would do the ladies a world of good and help repair the ravages brought on by shock. What say you, Miss Bennet?"

Jane glanced from her aunt to her uncle, a look of pleading in her eyes. "May we?"

Mr Darcy added his voice to the request. "We would be most honoured to escort your nieces," he said.

Mrs Gardiner turned to Elizabeth who smiled and nodded, a high spot of colour on each cheek, then consulted with her husband. Finally they gave their consent though she still wondered where all this was going to lead. If only she were sure of the gentlemen's secrecy and their acceptance of Jane's unusual situation. She didn't quite know what to make of the fact that her nieces were encouraging their suitors. They had -- subtly and otherwise -- discouraged so many others before.

"Mind you do not tire the girls," said Mrs Gardiner.

"Thank you aunt!" said Jane, getting up and kissing her cheek.

"Wrap up well," said Mr Gardiner, still a little concerned.

"Do not worry, Uncle," said Elizabeth reassuringly. "We shall be well taken care of."

They walked along the quiet morning streets, passing none but a few nurses promenading well-behaved charges or pushing them on prams. Mr Bingley led the way with Jane upon his arm and Elizabeth and Mr Darcy followed behind, walking side by side.

"Shall we see exotic birds?" asked Mr Darcy, raising one eyebrow in question, a smile in his eyes.

"Only the commonest ducks, I am afraid," said Elizabeth. "But the lime trees are worth the walk."

"I would be content with thistles and blackthorn," said Darcy. "The company is inducement enough."

"For Mr Bingley and Jane, indeed!" said Elizabeth to hide her confusion at the directness of his words. She suspected, even if she didn't know, that he was not one to pay compliments lightly, so she must assume he had some object in mind. But surely he couldn't mean to court her now after the rudeness and outlandishness of her rejection of him.

"They do appear quite happy in each other's company," Mr Darcy conceded ruefully. "But I had hoped your opinion of me had changed."

"I did not mean to say . . . that is . . I am quite content in your company, sir."

"I am pleased to hear it."

"I only meant that for them it is something special . . . with what they share."

A shadow of sadness seemed to fall across Darcy's visage momentarily. "That they are both weres."

Elizabeth looked up at him eagerly. "Yes! Does that not make it easier for them? They can love and not worry . . . I have worried for Jane for so long, that she would never find this kind of happiness. Never have what was due a lady of her sweet temper, of her beauty."

"You care for your sister deeply." The green eyes were concerned and reserved.

"I have been her guardian ever since she first began to change. There is no one closer to my heart." As she looked up into Mr Darcy's green eyes, Elizabeth realized that what she had just said to him was now untrue. Jane had been superseded in her thoughts, in her heart, and even in her soul. She cared no less for her sister, but another, stronger, deeper feeling filled her at the same time. A love that she felt was as hopeless as it was powerful. And it was the man by her side that caused the feeling to course through her veins. She could not find it in her heart to think less of him, or of the bright creature he transformed into, than she did of her beloved sister. She felt a blush suffuse her cheeks, at her thoughts.

"An enviable position," he whispered.

Elizabeth was caught by the wistful tone of his voice, and a tiny little seed of hope began to blossom deep within. She smiled up at him in such a way that could only be considered encouraging, and his expression changed subtly.

"We are here," she said inconsequentially, breaking the spell that had bound them.

Bingley and Jane had already entered the garden and were wandering down the avenue seemingly oblivious to their surroundings. Darcy held the park gate open for Elizabeth and then followed her through.

They found the lime-bordered avenue cool and fragrant on this lovely morning, and set upon it, at a leisurely pace.

"The trees are all you promised."

"Are they not majestic?"

"Yes, and very green."

"That is due to the profusion of leaves." Elizabeth smiled saucily.

"Yes," said Darcy. "Quite unexpected in trees. Next I shall find that the ducks on the pond are covered in feathers."

"I must admit that they are," said Elizabeth in mock seriousness. "But most of them are brown, unfortunately."

"I will attempt to bear that with equanimity." Something like a smile danced in his green eyes, though his lips betrayed no hint of his levity.

Elizabeth giggled. She had never yet seen this light-hearted side of Mr Darcy, and it endeared him even more to her. They continued their banter all the way to the pond, where they met up with Bingley and Jane. Mr Bingley had begged some bread from a young boy and his nursemaid, in exchange for a peacock feather he had found, and the four of them tossed morsels to the greedy birds. They returned to the Gardiners' house as a happy group, chatting and laughing, and then the gentlemen took their leave, but not before inviting Mrs Gardiner and the Bennet sisters to join them at Darcy's townhouse for tea the next day.

"My sister made me promise not to come away without a positive reply," said Darcy to Mrs Gardiner, so she was left with no choice but to accept the invitation.

That evening, Mrs Gardiner joined Elizabeth in her room.

"Is this wise?' she asked.

"What aunt?"

"Encouraging this relationship between Jane and Mr Bingley."

"But . . . cannot you see how in love they are?"

"I would have to be blind not to notice," said Mrs Gardiner. "But if he offers for her he will have to be told of Jane's affliction, in all fairness. There is no knowing how he would react. I've heard of ladies exposed in just such situations."

"I am not at liberty to tell you all," said Elizabeth, "but trust me when I say that she is safe with him. There is no more perfect match for either."

Mrs Gardiner looked at her, understanding dawning. "Do you mean . . . ?"

Elizabeth nodded her head.

"This is more than we could ever have wished for. All we need do now is wait for him to ask for her hand. Your mother will be overjoyed."

"Aptly put," said Elizabeth, thinking of her mother's tendency to over-react at any given situation.

"But I sense there is still something troubling you."

"There is still the question of who let Jane out of the house, and why."
Mrs Gardiner sobered considerably at this reflection. She had no answer for Elizabeth.

She wanted to ask about the Darcys and the very flattering invitation to their home. Though she came from Lambton, close to the Darcys' great estate of Pemberley, their families had always moved in very different circles, and she was at a loss to explain his attentions to her family. Or rather, she was not at a loss at all. She thought the gentleman very much besotted with her niece.

And this brought another worry for Jane's condition. Mr. Darcy was clearly a great friend of Bingley's. It was no secret in Derbyshire how proud the Darcys were and such great families were likely to set themselves up as having purer blood than anyone else. If he found out Jane was a were, would he think himself obliged to denounce her, to spare his friend's family? Did he know about Mr. Bingley's condition?

She wanted to ask all this, but she looked at Lizzy's dancing eyes and slight smile, and she could not. She sensed too that Lizzy would never give her an answer that might endanger others' secrets. For now she had to be satisfied with Jane's courtship and hope that Lizzy wasn't set on a course to break her own heart.

The next day they were shown into a downstairs salon at the Darcy townhouse. It was an elegant, well appointed room quite unlike the cosy yellow sitting room they had entered from the balcony the other evening.

Georgiana greeted them warmly as Darcy looked on, his pleasure at the meeting evident. Georgiana's companion, Mrs Annesley, was also present, and she soon entered into conversation with Mrs Gardiner. Mr Darcy sat beside Jane and spoke to her while Georgiana took Elizabeth over to her pianoforte to help her choose some music.

"We must play a duet," said Georgiana.

"I play very ill indeed," admitted Elizabeth. "I do not practice as much as I ought."

"My brother has told me you perform most pleasingly," countered Georgiana.

"He is too polite," said Elizabeth.

"As to that, I will judge for myself presently," said Georgiana, "but I actually brought you away here under false pretences."

"Oh?"

Georgiana lowered her voice. "I have learned that you are acquainted with a certain gentleman, who is indeed no gentleman, and I wanted to issue a warning."

"Of whom do you speak?"

"Mr Wickham."

Elizabeth remembered how Mr Wickham had tried to turn her against Mr Darcy by telling her things about him which had later proved to be untrue, but Mr Darcy had refused to go into any details about Mr Wickham, only warning her that he was not to be trusted and was guilty of the vilest form of treachery. "Your brother told me he was a traitor."

"But I do not think he has told you what it is Mr Wickham has done. My brother is . . . reticent to expose him, because it involves me personally. Mr Wickham had hopes to make his fortune by marriage to me."

"But . . . he was your steward's son! Your family would never countenance such an alliance." Elizabeth was not only thinking of Mr Darcy's pride, but of his Aunt Catherine, and his uncle, the earl.

"Mr Wickham hoped to ensnare me. He thought me young and gullible. What he did not know was that I loved another already." Her voice trembled. "I told him as much, without revealing that it was Lord Sevrin I loved, but somehow he guessed. And then somehow he discovered that Lord Sevrin was a were. He denounced him to the RWH. I know he did!" A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away.

Elizabeth put a hand on her shoulder and said softly. "You don't need to continue. This must be terrible for you."

"I must. He gained his post with the gold coats as a reward for his treachery. Lord Sevrin had been a classmate of his at Cambridge. They had at one time been friends. Mr Wickham is a very dangerous man to know. I do not want your sister to be put in a position of peril."

"Do not worry, Miss Darcy. When I return home I shall take care to keep my sisters from associating with him. I have heard, too, that the RWH regiment will be moving to Brighton soon so we can all breathe easier."

"I am glad to hear that," said Georgiana with a sigh. Her lovely eyes, still bordered with tears, seemed haunted with memories of her lost love. What must it do to a gently-nurtured girl to know her blameless fiancé had been beheaded in public and branded vicious and bestial to boot? Lizzy shuddered to imagine it.

"Thank you for sharing this confidence with me. I can only imagine what it must have cost you." She squeezed the girl's hand, gently, in reassurance, then forced a smile to her countenance. "Now, I think we must choose some music, for I know your brother abhors deceit of any kind, so he must not find us out."

Georgiana smiled and picked up some sheet music from the pile. "I have already chosen this one. Do you know it?"

Elizabeth perused the sheet. "I think I will be able to muddle through."

They rejoined to the rest of the party just as Mr Bingley and his sister were announced.

"I just had to see you, Miss Darcy," gushed Caroline. "And, of course I wanted to meet dear Miss Bennet and Miss Eliza again," she added insincerely.

Mr Darcy gave up his place at Jane's side to Bingley and came over to Elizabeth.

"You were some time choosing the music."

"Yes." She blushed slightly, not wanting to give Georgiana away.

He gave her a speaking look. "I am glad you get along so well with my sister. She needs someone she can trust and confide in. She has... suffered much lately."

So he hadn't been fooled. But at least he did not know the subject of their conversation -- and nothing in the world could ever induce Elizabeth to share it. Mention of Wickham's name between them had never boded well.

"Mr Darcy, it has been an age since we talked," said Caroline Bingley, leaving Georgiana as soon as it appeared that Elizabeth Bennet was attempting to monopolize Darcy as she had in the past. "You must tell me all about your visit with your dear Aunt Catherine in Kent. How I do wish to know more of her!"

"My sister and Miss Bennet were about to grace us with some music," said Darcy. "Let us sit here where we will have a good view of the pianoforte."

"Oh yes, let's" cried Miss Bingley. "I delight in music." She sat, turning her chair so that she faced Mr Darcy, rather than the pianoforte. "Such a treat," she said grimly, as she watched his eyes follow Elizabeth all the way to the instrument.

Elizabeth would later admit that as far as the music went, they muddled through admirably. Or at least, when Lizzy looked up from the music, she found Mr. Darcy looking at her, his eyes sparkling with unbound admiration. She wasn't sure if her playing had brought this on. She didn't dare hope it was solely admiration of her, or that the gentleman would overcome the terrible setback she'd dealt him and offer for her again. Oh, what a fool she must be. Now she had refused him, why must she want, of all things, that which she had so hotly spurned?

She must not think about it. After the wound she'd dealt him, her own suffering must be her just punishment. That they could talk together and banter as friends must be her only consolation. He was the best man she'd ever known, but she had put herself irrevocably beneath his touch.

And yet, when she took her leave of him a few hours later, she found her hand held a little too long in his warm hand, as he bowed over it and kissed it. A frisson went through her, and she felt colour rush to her face. Very old fashioned people and flirts kissed hands. But Mr. Darcy was neither very old fashioned, nor a flirt. And yet he had kissed her hand, and she would forever treasure the feel of his lips upon the back of it.

She looked up in confusion and found him observing her intently. Whatever he saw in her features must have gratified him, for he squeezed her hand a little and, with a quick glance sideways to ascertain Miss Bingley was quite busy saying her goodbyes to Georgiana in fulsome excess, he said in a voice that was a little more than a whisper, "I wonder if I might perhaps take you for a walk along that lime avenue sometime soon. I believe the ducks might miss us."

"Indeed sir," she said smiling and not quite knowing what she said.

The next morning Elizabeth was sitting in the drawing room at Gracechurch Street, thinking with pleasure about the visit of the day before. When she had looked up and met Mr Darcy's gaze after indicating her willingness to receive him again soon, she met with an expression so full of fiery intensity that she felt as if she were looking directly into the soul of the dragon.

In the blank spaces of the night, she had let her thoughts soar as if on dragon's wings, imagining that he still loved her. Still wanted her. Would propose to her again.

Her aunt and Jane came into the room to see if she wanted to join them in a trip to the park with the children, but she declined. That look, and Mr Darcy's veiled comments to her upon saying his goodbyes, led her to believe she might receive a visit from him. And she wanted to be alone when he came, so that he could speak what was in his mind. For the sake of relieving her feelings, she was willing to sound like a brazen hussy. But not in front of her aunt and sister.

As she waited, the post was brought in, and it contained a letter for her from Longbourn. The direction was written so ill she could not make out whether it was from Mary or her mother, or even from Kitty. Lydia she did not expect a letter from. As it turned out, the letter was from Mary, but it was not in her usual self-contained style at all.

Dear sister, a calamity of the most serious nature has befallen our family!

What is it now? thought Elizabeth. Has Kitty finally succeeded in hiding Fordyce's sermons in a place Mary will never find them?

I hate to be the bearer of such bad tidings, but I fear I must as our mother has taken to her bed, our father has hidden himself in his study with colonel Forster, and Kitty is crying in her room, and rightly so. She wants prayer and absolution, though she does not deserve it. But our youngest sister, the one who is the cause of all this soul destroying grief, is the least deserving of all. She ought be tossed from the bosom of the family, only she has made that impossible by already having torn herself from us by her own sordid act. She has, in effect, ruined us all with her weakness and scandalous behaviour. In short, she has left all of those who love her, despite her many faults, and thrown herself under the power of Mr Wickham!

"What?" cried Elizabeth out loud. "How can this be?"

She continued to peruse the letter which persisted in the same vein until the writing changed and she could detect her father's hand.

Dearest Lizzy. Could you and Jane please come home at once and save my sanity? Your mother needs to be comforted and I need to be off in search of your sister and that scoundrel. Mary can only sermonize and Kitty wail. From Colonel Forster I have learned that Lydia and Wickham have been traced to London but no further. It seems they are not for the border after all, which means I shall have to go to London and fight him, or so your mother says. I just hope I can patch up a marriage, though such a son is not what I had in mind.

Elizabeth threw down the letter and jumped up. "Oh! I must find my aunt!" she cried, just at the same time that Mr Darcy was ushered into the room.

He rushed to her side. "E . . . Miss Elizabeth! You are not well!"

"I am well," she replied. "But I have had dreadful news from home. My aunt!"

"Where has she gone? I will send a servant."

"To the park with Jane and the children!"

Mr Darcy left the room for a moment and then returned. Elizabeth had crumpled back down upon her chair and was searching for a handkerchief.

"Is there anything I can do for your present relief?" asked Darcy. "A glass of wine, perhaps?"

Elizabeth indicated the table where Mr Gardiner kept his brandy and Mr Darcy lost no time in pouring her a shot. He hovered over her as she drank it. "Is someone unwell? Your mother? Your Father?"

"No, it is nothing like that! My stupid, stupid sister Lydia has run off with . . . with Mr Wickham. I should have warned them about him -- now we are all ruined!"

Mr Darcy had crouched down beside her and taken her hand in his, rubbing it as she spoke, but now this movement ceased.

"Mr Wickham? What is being done?"

"My father begs for Jane and me to return home. He will come to London in search of them to force them into marriage, but how is a man like him to be worked on? Lydia has the paltriest of dowries! We have nothing to offer him! And besides, how can we admit a traitorous member of the RWH into the family? What will become of Jane?"

She threw her handkerchief over her face and burst into tears as Darcy stood stock still before her, his face a dark, angry mask.

After a while he bowed and said, with the old stiffness in his manners. "I will leave you. In truth, you have probably been wishing me well away this while."

"No--" Lizzy started, and then realized what she was about to say -- beg him to stay, when any man of honour would wish to abstract himself from her family's dishonour; beg him to stay when any relationship with her must mean endangering himself, now. She managed to rise, though she wasn't sure how, on trembling legs, and make him a very awkward courtesy. "You are too good, too kind," she said. "I beg you to preserve your safety above all. I couldn't stand to know you were at risk because of me or my disastrous family."

The look he bent upon her was so uncomprehending that she wasn't sure he'd even understood the words, let alone the meaning of her speech. His eyes appeared very dark and as though locked behind an impenetrable barrier of reserve and self control.

Oh, odious of her to regret she could no longer glimpse the dragon within. Odious, odious to wish he'd be so foolhardy to expose himself to the danger of a brother who was in the RWH and who was known to have already turned in one of Mr. Darcy's good friends.

"Yes, yes," Mr. Darcy said, not sounding at all like he knew what he said. "I must be off. Do not trouble yourself. I will see myself out."

With a deep bow, he was gone, leaving Lizzy to watch him vanish from sight down the hallway. She was very sure she'd never see him again. And though she should be glad he was preserving her safety, she felt as though her heart were clenched within a glove of red-hot iron.

Chapter Fourteen

Posted on Saturday, 26 January 2008

As the coach trundled further from London and closer to Longbourn, Elizabeth scanned the darkening sky for the glimpse of a sinuous gold and green body, listened with her all for the sound of wings beating against the wind, but with each mile her hope dimmed. She had known all along it was too much to expect of him, but heartfelt wishes were difficult to extinguish. In her rational mind she knew that the most foolhardy thing for Mr Darcy to do would be to accompany the coach in dragon form, so why did she even wish it in her heart of hearts? His safety must be as important to her as the safety of Jane, and even silly Lydia, for that matter. A dragon flying above their coach would put both Mr Darcy and Jane in danger, and yet . . . love was making her foolish. And her love was hopeless, too.

She had to accept the harsh truth. No matter that he had cared for her in the past, or that he had shown her and her sister extreme kindness during their stay in London, Mr Darcy's attentions to her were surely at an end. And she shouldn't wish it otherwise. If she truly loved him, his safety should be more important to her than any other consideration. So wanting him with her, and in harm's way, was irredeemably selfish. And yet how she missed him.

She sighed and Jane reached out to pat her hand. "All will be well Lizzy. Surely our sister and Mr Wickham are already married and we will be greeted with such tidings upon our arrival," she said, mistakenly interpreting what was troubling Elizabeth the most.

"Can you wish for such a brother? A Royal Were Hunter?"

Jane's face was white and drawn and her eyes filled with sorrow, but she answered evenly. "I mustn't put my own fears above Lydia's happiness. It is hoped they will settle a distance from Longbourn so the danger to me is lessened."

"Would that there were some other way of reconciling our sister's scandalous behaviour!" Elizabeth's eyes flashed.

But their arrival was not greeted with the news of their sister's nuptials, though Elizabeth had little expected it. Their father's face was haggard -- cut with worry lines and sagging cheeks. His relief upon seeing Elizabeth was palpable but the relaxing of tension on his face made him look even older.

"You have finally come!" he said as he hugged both his eldest daughters to him. "Now I am free to go and search for the blaggard."

"Has there not been any news?" asked Jane, hanging on to her glimmering expectations.

"Colonel Forster has not discovered them, but it is certain that they have gone no further than London. Though we thought they might have gone to Gretna Green, it seems quite certain they took the London road."

"Will it be so very difficult to find them?"
"The city is a labyrinth," sighed Mr Bennet.

Jane shuddered, and Elizabeth knew she must be recalling the terror of the time she had spent lost and alone in the London slums.

"How is mama?" asked Elizabeth.

"All I can say is thank goodness for laudanum," said Mr Bennet., "or none of the rest of us would have had any peace these past two days. Mary is with her now, reading sermons no doubt. But at least she's with her. Once you have rested from your trip you ought take them some tea -- I know not which of the two will need the relief more."

There was nothing for it but to face the task at hand -- at least it would keep Elizabeth from dwelling upon regrets and things that could never come to pass. Occupation, she had found, was the best thing for the troubled mind.

"Let me understand this completely," said Bingley as he paced the library of Darcy's townhouse. "Wickham has run off with Miss Bennet's youngest sister and you have no intention of publicly denouncing him?"

Darcy turned abruptly from his stance before the fireplace, his face dark with anger. "What would you have me do, Bingley? Break the unwritten code of all weres?"

"He did the same when he turned Sevrin in."

"Wickham is more vile than anyone I know -- I will not stoop to duplicating his behaviour. I will not be known as the traitor of my persecuted kind."

"But you know that he must have been the one who set Miss Bennet free in London and put her life in danger."

"Of course. Even before she mentioned weasel I had my suspicions. But how did he find out about her? And what was his purpose in letting her loose in London in her were form? And now this -- he cannot want to marry the chit -- why is he beleaguering the Bennet family?"

"And still you refuse to denounce him?" Bingley sputtered.

"Denouncing him would serve no purpose except to put everyone we love the most in mortal danger. He obviously knows the truth about Miss Jane Bennet. He knows the truth about me. For all I know he is aware of your secret as well. Both Georgiana and Miss Elizabeth Bennet would also be in peril, just for having given support to the siblings that they love. No, there must be some other way to work on Wickham. I must at all cost prevent him marrying Miss Lydia Bennet and somehow return her to her family without the scandal becoming widespread." He rubbed the middle of his forehead, in the gesture of someone attempting to massage away a persistent headache. "The happiness of all we know depends upon it."

"And your happiness perhaps, as well?" Bingley asked. This was the strange thing about Bingley that his easygoing manner hid a very sharp mind -- a mind rarely displayed, but then with lethal accuracy.

Darcy felt color rise to his cheeks and thought it must look ghastly there, for he did not doubt he was pale as the dead. "My happiness is of little account. You must know I've long ago given up any hope of ... of a normal life."

"And yet, I am sure the lady's feelings..."

"Don't, please, Bingley. This is a matter in which neither of our feelings are of the least consequence. We are both of us devoted to the safety and happiness of others who have greater claims on us. If everything... If I could hope to bring it all off as it should be, and to make sure no stain of this falls upon anyone and that Whickam will not slither his way into the Bennets' family, then I will dare to hope. But not before. For now I must think how to bring this miracle about."

"We," said Bingley, clapping his hands upon his friend's shoulders. "I am as much in this as you."

Darcy smiled tightly in acknowledgement, though the smile did little to brighten his expression. "Good, we have no time to lose," was all he said, and then he summoned a servant and ordered his carriage.

Elizabeth and Jane had been home at Longbourn for two days without any word from their father in London. Mrs Bennet continued to keep to her room, but her mood swings still kept the entire household on tenterhooks. Kitty no longer cried and even attempted to help, in atonement for her previous behaviour. She now realised that keeping Lydia's confidences private had greatly hurt her standing in her family -- her father had threatened to highly restrict her social activities -- and possibly even sullied her own reputation. So she came down to breakfast the day after her sisters' return, contrite and biddable, and even now, a full day later, ran every errand she was asked without question. She was however, she said, bewildered, for though Lydia had confided in her that she adored Whickam above all other men, she had never -- Kitty swore to it -- given indication of wishing to take such a fatal step as this must be. She had spoken of meeting him, sometimes, for what she called "sweet whisperings" but that was all.

They had just got up from the breakfast table and were sitting down to a basket of mending in the parlour when the approach of a carriage was heard upon the sweep.

"It must be father come home!" cried Jane. "He has found Lydia and brought her back!"

Kitty was up and peering through the curtained window, but could see nothing.

"Oh do sit down Kitty. We shall find out soon enough if Jane is right," said Mary. "But if it is Lydia, I do not suggest welcoming the prodigal by killing the fatted calf. She has a lot to answer for, to her family as well as to the Lord."

"Mary!" said Elizabeth. "It is probably just some neighbour trying to find out what they can. Rumours are bound to have spread. After all, Aunt Phillips had been a regular visitor and you know what a tattle monger she is." However she could not prevent her heart from beating erratically at the possibility that it was Mr Darcy calling upon them, however much she knew that it could not possibly be he.

It was not Mr Bennet with Lydia in tow, nor was it Mr Darcy, nor was it even one of their inquisitive neighbours. It was their cousin, Mr Collins, come to condole with them in their hour of need, or so he said.

"Your sister has brought disgrace down upon you all with her shameful actions," he said once he had done with his fulsome greetings and they were all seated again. "That is not to say I did not suspect something of this nature would happen, for it did not evade my notice that Miss Lydia was prone to indecorous behaviour. Lady Catherine encouraged me to write and advise your father time and time again, but I am afraid I was behindhand in my duty. So when we heard, through those grapevines of information that families are known for, that there was some mystery surrounding Longbourn and it had to do with Miss Lydia and her aborted stay in Brighton, and that your mother had taken to her bed and your father, after visits from Colonel Forster himself, had rushed off post paste to London, Lady Catherine turned to me and said, ‘You must visit your cousins in their time of need.' So here I am, at that good lady's wish and command."

"It is very good of you," said Jane.

"We cannot help but feel, Lady Catherine and I, that there might even be more involved here than scandalous behaviour of a most appalling kind -- I need not be more explicit because there are some things a gentleman must not say in the company of refined young ladies, which I trust you still are, as the taint of your sister's indiscretion has not wholly corrupted any of you as of yet -- though in time none of you will be safe from the spreading leprosy of her actions."

"It is a wonder you thought it safe to visit," said Elizabeth. "Lest you pick up some of the infection yourself."

Mr Collins looked taken aback for a moment, and then continued. "In my walk of life I must find myself in all sorts of places, but by virtue of vocation I carry protection with me wherever I go. I wish it were the same for you, cousins, I most sincerely do. Little do I rejoice in knowing that such close connections of mine have to bear such a stain on their reputations. But as Lady Catherine and I believe, it might be infinitely worse. Your sister may not have simply eloped, which is scandalous enough in itself, but she may be guilty of something even worse. Something of the blood that cannot be eradicated. She may have had to flee because she was found out."

"What exactly are you insinuating, Mr Collins?" asked Elizabeth, two spots of red flaring high across her cheeks.

"That she . . . is cursed."

"That she is a were?" asked Jane, her lips trembling.

"She is no were!" cried Kitty. "I am her sister and share a room with her and all manner of secrets," here she blushed, "so I would know."

"How dare you come here and make unsubstantiated claims of such a defamatory nature?" Elizabeth was standing now, her face white with fury. "How dare you say you have come to condole when you have only come to accuse? You would be wise to keep such thoughts to yourself -- you would put us all in danger if your insinuations were to become public. My sister Lydia may have acted indiscreetly but I will have you remember that she has been taken advantage of by a man whom we considered to be a gentleman. Why should she and her family be destroyed for something that is more Mr Wickham's responsibility than anyone else's? And he, as an officer of the Royal Were Hunters, would hardly take it into his head to elope with a young lady who changed into the type of a creature he has sworn to protect society from. The idea is ludicrous. I must ask you to leave this house at once, and to tell your precious Lady Catherine that our family's business is not her business."

"I did not mean to say . . . that is . . you do make sense. I quite see that Mr Wickham would not philander with a were. Not an officer of the RWH. But I cannot absolve your sister of wrongdoing. The lady is always much more at fault than the gentleman. Sometimes, with officers, one must turn a blind eye to what is not much more than a flirtation, but a lady . . . a lady's reputation is as brittle as glass."

"Oh I do agree!" cried Mary.

Elizabeth was not to be mollified. "Good day, Mr Collins."

"I had wished to find you more reasonable, cousin," said Mr Collins, as he took his hat and coat from the servant that had been summoned, "but Lady Catherine warned me how it would be, with your wilful nature. I hope that you are not past redemption, but I sincerely doubt the Good Lord will find it possible to bless this house any longer. I shall endeavour to pray for what is left of your lost souls." And with that he took his leave.

"What pomposity!" cried Kitty when the door was closed behind him. "Do you think it can be true that we have lost all of God's blessings just because Lydia has run off with Mr Wickham? It does not seem such a terrible thing to have done."

"I believe in God's goodness," said Elizabeth, "so why would he turn his back on us when we need him the most?"

Kitty nodded. "To tell you the truth," she said, "I don't even see how it could be such a sinful thing if Lydia was really a were, because it would be no fault of her own, would it?"

Tears came to Jane's eyes. "No fault at all," she whispered.

"But she is not," said Elizabeth sensibly, "so we can forget that Mr Collins ever made such wild accusations."

"I think we should all get down upon our knees and pray," said Mary. "None of you are taking this situation as seriously as you ought. We must protect ourselves as best we can from the evils of man in this sinful, sinful world."

Suddenly a bell began to ring its strident peals through the house.

"Mama!" cried Elizabeth. "I will go to her." Anything was better than having to stay in the parlour with Mary, shrouded in sackcloth and ashes, praying for salvation from eternal damnation.

When Mr Collins returned to Kent and reported to Lady Catherine how poorly his interview with his cousins had gone, she did not seem as affected by it as he would have expected.

"They will learn the error of their ways soon enough," was her only comment. Then she went on to inform him that she had sent Anne to a convent in Wales during his absence, and so there would be one less person in the family pew of a Sunday.

In actual fact this was not the truth, but Lady Catherine saw no reason to inform her parson of the real reason for Anne's absence. She was having a difficult enough time about reconciling herself to her daughter's actions as it was, and she was feeling considerably misused by both of her nephews. If only Darcy had come to the point and offered for Anne as he had always been expected to, he could have protected her from the folly that she had just committed. And from Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Lady Catherine had trusted the colonel. She had welcomed him to her house every year at Easter along with Darcy. He had been her second favourite nephew. But she had never suspected him of being a fortune hunter.

Certainly his lineage was impeccable, but he was, after all, only a second son. And she had other hopes for her only daughter. She had also looked forward to the joining of the two great estates -- Pemberley and Rosings -- which the marriage of Anne and Darcy would have accomplished.

Lady Catherine had even been proud of her soldierly nephew and done all that was in her power to forward his career. She'd even begun sending out feelers for an appropriate wife for him too. An heiress would have suited him admirably -- even someone like Darcy's friend Bingley's sister, though her fortune was from trade. She'd also considered Miss Earnest, who was a considerable heiress and Miss Blagwood, whose father's title would, furthermore, descend upon any fruits of her union. Oh, of course, Miss Earnest had been at her prayers for several years, having passed twenty eight so long ago that she could scarce remember the occasion, and Miss Blagwood had spent several seasons in London -- at untold expense -- all to no effect, possibly on account of the cast in her left eye and her right leg being slightly shorter than the other, which lent her an odd gait. Of course such things didn't matter in this case. Second sons couldn't be too choosy.

But the last heiress she would have considered suitable for Colonel Fitzwilliam was her own dear Anne. In fact, though Anne was, of course, of a sickly disposition, she was -- as Mr. Collins assured Lady Catherine daily -- the finest flower of genteel young ladies. She should not be settling for a second son, one with no better recommendation than a ready smile and a fluent tongue.

And now -- this! How could her only child have served her so ill as to leave her mother and all of her friends and elope with her own cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam? Although he was no longer to have even the glory of such a simple title as Colonel. He had sold out and now was no more than Mr Quentin Fitzwilliam. They were in France, and as far as Lady Catherine could determine, the marriage had been performed and there was nothing she could do to nullify it. In fact, Anne had threatened to expose the fact that her own father, Sir Lewis DeBourgh, had been a were who changed into a bear if her mother made any sort of attempt to disallow the marriage.

Lady Catherine shuddered as she thought back to that day -- the day of the biggest disgrace in her entire life -- the day she had discovered her husband shifting from the form of a bear to stand naked before her, shivering with cold in the shrubberies. Seeing a bear bounding towards her had given her quite a fright, but having it turn into her husband before her eyes had shocked her to the marrow. How could she have pledged her life to something so debased? Sir Lewis was never allowed in her bedchamber again. And from that day her fears for her little daughter Anne had grown.

From that day she had also taken up a vendetta against any weres that might have resided in the neighbourhood -- the county would be clean of all atrocities of nature if she had her will. How such a base life form had made its way into one of the first families of the district she could not know. All she knew was that the condition was insidious and that truly something nefarious must have happened in the DeBourgh family's ancient past. Doubtless, some great immorality was at the bottom of it.

No one could ever know -- she would never live such an indignity down. So, in bitterness and bile, she'd given up any thought of recovering her daughter. She had instead settling on lying to the world about her daughter's whereabouts for as long as they could be concealed. She was well aware that it wouldn't be long. Someone would see her daughter or her husband in France and spread word about.

But there was nothing she could do, and she must learn to bear the opprobrium as best she could. Anne and Quentin Fitzwilliam were safe from her.

Elizabeth was roused from a deep sleep by strange sound. A sort of rattling shower. She sat up and heard it again. Pebbles against the window. That was it. Immediately she thought of Jane -- but it was the wrong time of the month -- the moon was no more than a sliver in the night sky. Jane had more control than to be overpowered by such a weak tug as a sickle moon could exert. Her heart pounding she tiptoed to the window and stared outside.

It was very dark, but dimly she could see a female figure standing upon the lawn below her window. Not Jane, but Lydia. Lydia! Elizabeth ran downstairs at once and let her in. She led her up to her room in silence and then closed the door before asking any questions.

"Where on earth did you come from? We thought you in London!"

"I was in London!" said Lydia in a loud whisper. "I have had such an adventure!"

"Adventure? You run off with Mr Wickham and throw your family into turmoil and call it an adventure?"

"I didn't run away with him -- I'm not quite that brazen a hussy -- he kidnapped me."

"He took you against your will? What of the letters you left behind. I read them -- they were in your hand and your carefree style."

"I wrote them, certainly, but under duress," said Lydia.

"Where is Wickham now? How did you escape him? How came you here, to the garden? I will not believe that you walked from London."

Lydia laughed. "Lord no! You will hardly credit it, but I was given a ride by a dragon. Oh, you cannot imagine how glorious it is to ride upon a dragon!"

As it was Elizabeth could easily imagine that gloriousness, having longed for the feel of the dragon's silky scales pressed close to her body ever since her last ride upon the Darcy dragon, but she didn't admit this to her sister. "A dragon!"

"Now don't go and get all missish and tell me I should never have accepted the ride because it was wondrous and truly the safest way for me to get back home with no one being the wiser. I did not need to go to an inn or buy tickets for the stage or anything of that sort. Anyway I did not have any money, though why Mr Darcy could not have given me some, I have no idea."

"Mr Darcy!"

"Oops! I was not supposed to have mentioned him -- and I had promised so faithfully too. I shall say no more about him."

"But . . . I don't understand . . . the dragon?"

"Oh! Do not worry -- Mr Darcy never saw the dragon. He simply offered to take me to my uncle's house, but I told him I had no wish to listen to sermons after what I'd been through and I would find my way home. No sooner had Mr Darcy left, than this dragon appeared. I know I ought to have been frightened, but after putting up with Mr Wickham for a week, I was game for anything. The dragon landed beside me and offered me his shoulder, so I climbed on and asked him to take me home. I knew that anything that beautiful could not harm me."

Well did Lizzy know that beauty and the trust those green eyes engendered. She did not doubt for a moment that it was Mr. Darcy as a dragon who had brought her sister home. And yet, she felt she must chide Lydia. "But you thought Mr Wickham handsome and look what a fiend he turned out to be."

"There is no comparing Mr Wickham and the dragon! Really Lizzy -- you must rid yourself of these silly superstitions that weres are bad. If there is anything I have learned during my time with Mr Wickham, it is that the RWH is full of very bad men. And if they are mostly so very bad, doesn't it follow that weres must mostly be very good?"

Elizabeth thought this rather simple logic and flawed at best, but she was just glad and relieved that Lydia wasn't about to report the dragon that had helped her to the authorities. In her mind there was no debating who the dragon was -- appearing as he had upon Mr Darcy's heels. And besides, she doubted there were many weres who were dragons. It didn't seem like a very likely form for weres in England to take. She decided the safest thing to do would be to steer Lydia to the beginning of her escapade, so she wouldn't make the connection between the dragon and Mr Darcy either.

"That is as may be, but why did Mr Wickham kidnap you?"

"Oh la! Why does a gentleman who is not truly a gentleman ever kidnap a lady? Because that lady has not been forthcoming!" She giggled. "I see I have surprised you, Lizzy. You expected much less from me. Oh well, I suppose it is because I do love to flirt so. But anything more I would not give unless the gentleman had gained my father's permission to marry me. I do know my worth!"

"I am relieved to hear it. I hope you elucidate Mary at your soonest convenience so that we may be spared her sermons."

Lydia giggled and threw herself upon the bed. "I suppose what you really want to know is how Mr Wickham managed to kidnap me."

"Please," said Elizabeth, fighting her exasperation at her sister's method of telling her tale.

"Well, while I was staying with the Forsters in Brighton, I had ever such a good time flirting with all the officers. There were so many dances, and walks upon the beach and to the lending library. At first Mr Wickham paid me little heed. Then he was away for a few days. When he returned he began to ingratiate himself with me. I found it quite amusing, and decided to carry on a flirtation with him. I knew he could not possibly be in earnest because it was common knowledge he was hanging out for a new heiress since that ugly, freckled little Mary King gave him the slip."

"Lydia!"

"Lord! It was simply to be a lark. One must do something to pass the time. And it was pleasant enough. How was I to know he had discovered that one of my very own sisters was a were? "

"What?"

"Yes, that is what he told me. He said if I did not go with him he would denounce my sister -- and of course I knew it must be you, because he had spent so much time in your company when he first came to Meryton, and you do love to go for solitary walks and you are secretive and, well, you full well could be a were. I didn't want to see you killed Lizzy!"

Elizabeth sat down on the bed and put her arms around her sister. "Oh Lydia! You put yourself under that man's power for me?"

"And I would do it again, only, I'm not sure if he might not denounce you now after what I did to him." Lydia suddenly looked stricken.

"He can denounce me all he wants to," said Elizabeth. "I am not a were."

"You're not?" Lydia sounded truly disappointed. "So all I did was for naught?"

"No, Lydia. You showed yourself to be a loyal sister, and much less silly than I ever gave you credit for. I am very much in your debt."

Lydia smiled and hugged Elizabeth in return. "He took me to a very disreputable hostelry in London. I have to admit that I was not about to share his bed, even for you, Lizzy. I made friends with the landlady's daughter and told her I had been abducted by a blackguard. She saw to it that he had enough blue ruin to pass out as soon as he lay upon the counterpane and I stayed in her room for the night. After a couple of days and nights of this he became quite demanding and I was afraid for my virtue, but the final evening I managed to fight him off. I was lucky -- I directed a well placed kick upon a very delicate part of his anatomy. When Mr Darcy arrived Mr Wickham was curled up like a ball. It was quite an easy task for Mr Darcy to tie him up at that point. Oh no! I mentioned Mr Darcy again. Please ignore that, for I did promise."

Regretfully, Elizabeth agreed to ask no more, and the two lay down to sleep. Lydia was soon dreaming deeply but Elizabeth spent the night tossing and turning, her sleep haunted by dragons and puzzlement as to how Darcy came to be at the hostelry where Wickham was holding Lydia and why he had brought her home upon his back. But most of all she was consumed with sadness that he had not passed by her window after depositing Lydia upon the lawn. She would have given anything to see that glowing serpentine body again; anything for a last chance to look deep into those knowing emerald green eyes.

But since he had not stopped to visit her, in either form, she must assume his pursuit of her was now at an end. Doubtless he had some noble idea about sparing her from danger. And doubtless he was right. And he would never renew his addresses again now he'd seen the danger were connections could bring to her and her family.

But she wished he'd listen to his noble soul less, and more to his passionate heart.

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