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Chapter 1

Posted on Friday, 28 October 2005

"I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me."

"I don't know what you mean, Charlotte. You cannot still be under the illusion that Mr. Darcy feels any kind of preference towards me, for I assure you that is not the case. Rather," I continued with a smile, "I suggest that he has just spent more than five minutes in his aunt's presence and thus feels the need to escape. In which case, he has already shown himself to be in possession of more discernment than I have ever yet seen the need to give him credit for."

"Lizzy," laughed Charlotte. "Promise me that you will behave."

"Of course."

"Like a lady, Lizzy! Mr. Darcy is an important man. It's an honour for me that he is condescending to visit us here. I want to make a good impression, and I can only do that if I know that you will behave." Charlotte's stern tone deserted her as I began meticulously re-arranging my skirts and moved to sit in my most prim and proper manner.

Laying one hand on my heart and looking Charlotte squarely in the eye I made my vow. "I solemnly promise to model my behaviour on that excellent example of female comportment, Lady Catherine de Bourgh."

We both dissolved into laughter, such that when Charlotte's illustrious visitor was shown into the drawing room we were both still giggling like schoolgirls. Looking somewhat disconcerted at our obvious amusement, and no doubt finding it terribly unladylike of us, Mr. Darcy bowed deeply. As I curtsied, I wondered at Charlotte's earlier statement. Not for a moment did I credit myself as the reason for his early visit to the parsonage, but what his true reason could be I did not know. It certainly wasn't for Mr. Collins' company. His abhorrence of the man was quite clear, and I doubted that it was out of respect for Charlotte. Given his general aloof nature in Hertfordshire I was astonished that he would think to pay a social call to anyone, let alone the two of us.

Taking the chair offered to him by Mrs. Collins, I listened as he paid his compliments to her on her marriage and new home. His comments were all that was required, but he offered them with a sincerity that I couldn't miss.

"Thank you Mr. Darcy. Your aunt has been most welcoming to Mr. Collins and myself, doing all that is necessary to ensure that we are well provided for."

"I am sure she has Mrs. Collins. My aunt is most attentive to such details."

At this I started, unable to comprehend whether Mr. Darcy was being intentionally ironic or not. There was not the hint of a smile on his lips, yet surely he must find his aunt's manner as unacceptable as the rest of us. But Mr. Darcy did not make jokes, and certainly not at the expense of his own family. Attending to the conversation again, I was amazed by Darcy's polite attention to my friend. Certainly he was not the most entertaining of men, and I still did not like him, but that he was even seated in Charlotte's small parlour talking amiably with her was nothing short of remarkable.

After a while Mr. Darcy turned to me. Remembering my promise to Charlotte I endeavoured to be civil in my answers to him. He appeared disappointed in my answers, as though he expected more from me than my brief responses, though why he should imagine that I would want to talk to him I did not know. Realising that my own reticence had caused a pause in the conversation , I couldn't help risking Charlotte's censure and asking Mr. Darcy a question of my own.

"You left Netherfield so suddenly last year Mr. Darcy. We had hoped that Mr. Bingley may re-open the house in the spring, but there has been no sign of him. Does he plan to return to Hertfordshire at all do you know?"

It appeared that my arrow hit the mark. Darcy visibly reacted to my question, almost imperceptibly nodding to himself.

"I do not know of Mr. Bingley's plans at present Miss Elizabeth," he said.

"He is still in London at the moment I understand?" A clear nod confirmed my supposition. "Then I am surprised that he has not seen my sister Jane. She has been there these past three months but has not seen him once."

Sensing that this line of conversation may create an unpleasant tension in the room, Charlotte felt the need to intervene.

"London is a big place Lizzy. You have spent enough time there to know that one does not just bump into people on the street. I have been at my grandmother's house in town for weeks before without seeing people who live just a few streets away.. Would you care for some tea Mr. Darcy?"

Our visitor did not stay long after this. On collecting his hat and gloves from the table he seemed to hesitate a moment before turning to issue an invitation that took us greatly by surprise.

"I am to visit some friends of mine on the coast this Thursday. It will be a day trip, I believe they have some entertainments planned. When I learned of Miss Bennet's presence in the county, I took the liberty of asking them if I might invite you both to accompany me. Mr. Collins is also welcome of course," he added quickly.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Mr. Darcy was inviting us to travel in his carriage, to go on a day trip with him and meet his friends. Luckily, it was Charlotte's responsibility, as my hostess, to respond for both of us, and while I didn't exactly agree with her that the invitation was delightful, I could agree that the prospect of a trip to the coast was quite pleasing.

"Mr. Collins, unfortunately, will be unable to accompany us as he has business with the bishop that day, but I am happy to say that Lizzy and myself have no engagements and look forward to meeting your friends."

"Wonderful," said Darcy, a true smile gracing his lips. "I shall bring the carriage for you after breakfast. " Donning his hat and bowing as he took his leave he added, "I believe you are to join us at Rosings this evening. I shall simply say good day until then, Mrs. Collins, Miss Bennet."

"Well Lizzy, now what have you to say?" asked Charlotte once he had left.

"I really don't know," was my honest response. "Mr. Darcy, inviting us to go visiting with him. I don't know what to make of it at all."

"Well then I shall tell you what I think," said Charlotte, an excited note creeping into her voice. "I think that Mr. Darcy is in love with you, and has secretly told his driver to drive off the moment he hands you into the carriage. I will be left behind as he leaps into the still open door of the speeding vehicle, where he will declare his love for you and whisk you off to church to be married by special licence the very same day."

"And I am supposed to be the romantic one!" I laughed. "I suppose all of the horses pulling the carriage will be white and he shall magically produce a priceless heirloom ring from thin air?"

"Maybe not from thin air, but I'm sure that the future Mrs. Darcy will have a number of priceless rings."

"Well perhaps she shall, and maybe one day you will meet her and then you can write and tell me about her jewelry as much as you care! Whoever she is, I pity her, being married to that man."

"I have never quite understood your intense dislike of him, Lizzy. Maybe you have misjudged him - after all, he was friends with Mr. Bingley."

"And look how he turned out. Toying with Jane's affections and then abandoning her. No, I am sure that Mr. Darcy is still every bit as unpleasant as he was three months ago."

"But, if that is true, why would he invite us to meet his friends?"

I had no answer to that. In Hertfordshire, he had made it clear that he did not care to associate with us, yet here he was doing just that. It was a puzzle I could not fathom. Still, it was years since I had seen the ocean, and the thought of seeing it again even made the prospect of two hours in a coach with Mr. Darcy seem bearable.

That evening was to be my second visit to Rosings. On my first, I had found a wonderful set of characters to study. Firstly there was Lady Catherine de Bourgh, a woman so rude that she made even my own mother look like a model of decorum. Her daughter, Anne, I am sorry to say reminded me of a dying fish - pale, gasping, with glassy eyes and weak jerky movements. I had hoped to find some spark of life within her, but my few attempts to engage her in conversation were invariably halted by her insultingly thoughtless replies. Wickham had told me that she was to marry Mr. Darcy, and I was intrigued to see how the two would interact. I could not imagine Mr. Darcy, who even I could admit was a handsome, intelligent man, with such a weak, lifeless woman. She surely would not have met anyone's estimation of an accomplished woman, and most certainly not the exhaustingly particular list that Mr. Darcy had once outlined to me.

Mr. Collins made sure that we arrived at Rosings in good time - thank goodness for Charlotte's delaying tactics which had prevented us from being ridiculously early. It seemed that my always organised friend had developed an uncanny ability to forget things of late, or to be so disorganised when it came to leaving the house that we generally managed to leave on time rather than half an hour too early as Mr. Collins would have us do. We were shown into the drawing room where a fire was blazing so intensely that we all sought to sit as far away from it as possible. Mr. Collins whispered to me that Miss de Bourgh required well heated rooms, as a cold or draughty room may have a detrimental impact on her fragile health. That everyone else suffered headaches from the suffocating heat was neither here nor there. At Rosings, Miss de Bourgh's needs came before all others. In this way I found myself seated on a small sofa on the far side of the room, too far away to converse directly with either Lady Catherine or her sickly daughter.

Upon our entrance to the room, I had been amused to see that Mr. Darcy was standing in his customary position by the window - no doubt encouraged there by the ridiculous heat in the rest of the room. Soon after I had taken my seat I was alarmed to see him walking towards me, with the obvious intention of speaking to me. Why he kept so singling me out I could not say but I was not at all pleased by his attentions. It transpired that he came to tell me that all was arranged for Thursday, that the weather seemed likely to be clear, and to ask my advice on a small gift he wished to take for the children of his friends. Children and gifts being two of my favourite things we were able to converse quite agreeably on this subject for some time, settling on a new travelling bag and some drawing pencils for the girl and a set of toy soldiers and a kite for the boy. At this point Lady Catherine interrupted our conversation. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved at her interference or not, until she began interrogating us about what we had been saying.

"I was just asking Miss Bennet's advice on a small matter Aunt."

"Advice? I give excellent advice Darcy. Whatever advice could you need that you cannot get from me or from Anne. Really, I would think that you would ask us first." I had to hold back a giggle as she peered over the top of her glasses. "Well, what was it that you needed advice on?"

"As you know Lady Catherine, I am to visit some friends on Thursday and was merely asking Miss Bennet if she had any suggestions on what gifts I might take the children."

"What age are the children Fitzwilliam?" squeaked Anne from her seat near the fire.

"Andrew is seven and Clara is twelve."

"Then I would suggest music for her and an atlas or some such book for him. Wouldn't you agree Anne?" boomed Lady Catherine. It was apparent that the lady was becoming somewhat deaf in her old age, but we all pretended not to notice.

"Oh yes, such wonderfully generous gifts" she responded in all seriousness.

"Thank you for your suggestions Aunt, Anne, but we had already settled on a travelling bag for Clara and a set of soldiers for Andrew."

"What nonsense Darcy," came the reply. "A girl of twelve has no need of a travelling bag, and what good will toys do the boy? Miss Bennet, you must see that your suggestions are inappropriate?"

"In my experience Lady Catherine, a girl of twelve is well on her way to becoming a young lady. I'm sure she will be delighted with such a grown up gift."

"She will sooner become a young lady through accomplishments than pretty gifts, but fine Darcy. If you wish to spoil her then go ahead."

Mr. Darcy, apparently less inclined to argue with his aunt than I, let the matter rest.

It was Anne who spoke next.

"My cousin is to visit his friends on Thursday Mrs. Collins. Perhaps you and your friend might come to tea with mother and I that day. I am sure we shall have nothing else to do."

"What a generous offer! You are too kind to my wife Miss de Bourgh. Charlotte, Charlotte my dear, you must cancel any appointments you have for Thursday," flustered Mr. Collins.

Blushing awkwardly, Charlotte turned to me for help. I, likewise, knew not what to say. Clearly Mr. Darcy had not told his cousin that he had invited us to join him, and equally clearly he had not invited her. Seeing that Charlotte was still unable to form a suitable response, I opened my mouth to reply when I heard Mr. Darcy's voice addressing his cousin.

"I am sorry to disappoint you Anne, but I have invited Mrs. Collins and Miss Bennet to accompany me to see the Saxby's. I thought that Miss Bennet might like to see the ocean while she is in Kent."

There was a palpable silence in the room. For my part, I was furious that Mr. Darcy had made me the reason for inviting Charlotte and I to accompany him. Oh why had he not just invited Anne too? It would have made everyone miserable, but at least she would not have been staring daggers at me that moment. Hastily, Mr. Darcy saw and tried to correct his error.

"My dear cousin, I would have invited you had I not been concerned for your health. But Augustine Lodge is over two hours drive away and the weather for Thursday does not promise to be clear." Apparently weather that seemed likely to be clear, as he had told me earlier, was not the same as weather that promised to be so. In other circumstances I might have been amused by his varying interpretations. "I would not have you put your health at risk for a visit to a family you have never met."

Evidently Mr. Darcy thought that was enough of an explanation, for once he had finished he turned abruptly and returned to his former place by the window. My anger at Darcy increased as the combination of excessive heat and tension reached an almost unbearable high. I happened to glance in Miss de Bourgh's direction and caught her glaring at me once again. Upon catching my eye, she struggled to her feet and, leaning heavily on a pair of walking sticks, hobbled over to stand in front of me.

"This is a lovely treat for you Miss Bennet," she squawked bitterly. "You must enjoy it while you can, for soon Fitzwilliam and I will be married and then he will not be at leisure to take young ladies of, how can I put this, limited means on trips to the seaside."

I was mortified at her speech, which had thankfully escaped the notice of both Mr. Collins and the somewhat hard of hearing Lady Catherine. Whether or not Mr. Darcy had heard it I could not tell, for he had not moved from his position at the window. Charlotte, I was sure, had heard most of her cruel words, and would no doubt wish to discuss them with me afterwards. It was only for her sake that I did not quit the room directly, recognising as I did her need to keep on good terms with the daughter of her husband's patroness. I thought carefully before replying, as civilly as I could,

"I am indeed looking forward to our excursion. It has been many years since I last saw the ocean."

"And you will get to spend the day with my fiancée too Miss Bennet. Do not forget that." What was she trying to imply? That I had forced my company on Mr. Darcy in an attempt to make him fall in love with me? Ridiculous presumption!

"Mr. Darcy has been very kind in inviting Mrs. Collins and myself. We are both most grateful."

"I believe that it is common amongst members of the ton for gentlemen to have a number of female companions. I am not a lady of fashionable tastes." How sadly true, I thought to myself. A less fashionable person was hard to imagine. "My mother and I have traditional sensibilities. I expect my marriage to be the epitome of all that is proper and respectable."

"Then I wish you well Miss de Bourgh." Glancing again at Mr. Darcy, and knowing full well the answer to my next, I could not resist adding, "Has a date been agreed upon yet?"

She paused, screwing up her malicious little eyes at me, before replying, "Not yet Miss Bennet, but you may rely on hearing about it soon. It will be announced in all the papers so you may read about it there. It has been the dearest wish of our mothers since before we were born that the houses of Darcy and de Bourgh may be united through our marriage. It will take more than a beautiful face to disrupt their plans."

At this point Mr. Darcy left his place at the window. His movement attracted his aunt's attention, causing her to declare to the room,

"We must have some music. Anne dearest, why don't you select a piece for Miss Bennet to play? You have such wonderful taste, I am sure she will be delighted to play anything which you recommend."

Anne smiled cruelly at me as a footman was directed to bring her the pile of music from the side of the piano. I had already confessed on my earlier visit to possessing very little talent at the pianoforte, so I was sure that she would select something beyond my abilities. I was thus astonished, a feeling I was becoming accustomed to since Mr. Darcy's arrival at Rosings, to see that same man move towards Anne and assist her in choosing a piece. As he handed me the music, I saw something in his eyes which I took to be an apology for the treatment I was receiving at the hands of his family. Well, if he was aware of their insults to me he was doing very little to prevent them.

"One of my favourites," he announced as he offered it to me.

I took the music from him and moved to the piano without even looking at it. If I was to publicly humiliate myself then I would rather not spend too long worrying about it in advance. I raised the lid of the piano, placed the music and adjusted the seat to a comfortable height. Finally raising my eyes to the sheet in front of me I was relieved to see a piece I was familiar with. It was something my sister Mary had often attempted, part of a concerto by Mozart, and while I had only played it once or twice myself, it was at least a piece I knew. Surely Mr. Darcy was not aware of my sister's attempts to master this piece?

I let my eyes wander over the score, noting the parts that I felt I could manage, and those which I had no hope of getting through with any success. Unfortunately, poor as I was, I was still the best musician in the house, so that whenever any of the party wished for entertainment, I would be the one who was called upon. No amount of poor playing would get me out of performing while I was in Kent. My only option was to do as well as I could in order to save my pride. I resolved to miss any repeats, except for one particularly manageable part, and fudge my way as best I could through the difficult passages, and goodness me there were lots of those.

Dimly, I heard Miss de Bourgh's high pitched voice in the background. It did not surprise me that she was ill-mannered enough to talk through my performance. But most of the time, playing took all my concentration, so that I was unaware of the response of my audience. When I finished, Charlotte praised me far more than I deserved, while from Mr. Darcy I received an approving nod. Lady Catherine all but commanded me to practice more, and informed me that there was an old piano in a room towards the back of the house if I wished to make use of it at any time during my stay. Miss de Bourgh was silent, apparently not believing my performance worthy of comment.

Soon after this, a very sweaty Mr. Collins prepared to leave. Charlotte seemed almost as keen as I to escape the stifling heat of the room, but still, she and her husband made their farewells as politely as they were expected to. I curtsied and said as little as possible to anyone, still outraged at the behaviour of the entire Rosings party. During the carriage ride back to the parsonage, I fumed over Miss de Bourgh's words - as if I needed to be warned off Mr. Darcy! She was welcome to him as far as I was concerned. They would suit each other well - in wealth, in pride, in rudeness. And he, inviting Charlotte and I into the lions den!

As much as I was beginning to long for the feel of the fresh sea breeze, I most heartily wished that the idea of a trip to Augustine Lodge had never been mentioned.

Chapter 2

Posted on Tuesday, 1 November 2005

Charlotte had parish business to attend to the next morning. Since coming to stay, I had been impressed by the way in which she had thrown herself into the role of a parson's wife. She spent much of her time visiting and tending to the needs of her parishioners, finding ways to make her modest income go as far as possible in bringing relief to the poor among them. This morning I could be of no use to her, so I decided to go for a walk through the lanes around Rosings.

Enjoying the early spring flowers, I did my best not to dwell on the events of the previous day. Miss de Bourgh may have ruined my evening, but I would not give her the pleasure of destroying my happiness this morning as well. So it was that I roamed freely through the great estate, taking note of the subtle differences between the countryside around my home and that of Kent. I was relieved not to bump into anyone from Rosings during my walk, not that I had expected to encounter the frail Miss de Bourgh out on a ramble!

Mr. Darcy on the other hand I did fear meeting. I was still furious with him for the situation he had placed Charlotte and I in the day before, as well as being utterly perplexed as to his reasons for inviting us to Augustine Lodge with him in the first place. That was surely not the action of an engaged man? While I was happy for Charlotte that she was to have the opportunity to meet some new people - it seemed to me that she was a little lonely so far from her family and with such a silly man for a husband - I was not looking forward to seeing Mr. Darcy again.

Turning back towards the parsonage, I was alarmed to see Miss de Bourgh's phaeton outside the front door. In fact, at the angle I was approaching from, I could see that she had driven directly through the flower bed that Charlotte and I had so carefully planted earlier in the week. Deciding that it would be better for everyone if Miss de Bourgh and I did not encounter each other at that moment, I quickly stepped behind a tree. To my dismay, it was only then that I spotted Mr. Collins, running down the path behind me, panting loudly as he attempted to reach his home before his guest departed.

"Make haste Miss Bennet, make haste. Do not concern yourself over your dress my dear cousin. Miss de Bourgh will not mind a little dust about your person. But you must attend her and thank her for coming to visit you on such an inclement day."

The day was in fact beautiful, an idyllic spring morning, but I had not time to point this out to my foolish cousin. Instead, I had no choice but to follow him to the cottage, realising as I did so that Miss de Bourgh's hearing was much better than her mother's.

"Miss Bennet, why - it looks as though you have lost a fight with a muddy puddle!" she laughed unkindly as she saw me. "No wonder you chose to hide behind that tree rather than attend me as you ought. But while I shall condescend to overlook the dust about your person, I hate to imagine what Mr. Darcy would say right now if he saw you."

There was little I could say to such a statement. Knowing that she intended to provoke me, I felt that my best course of response was to stay entirely silent. Disappointed by my refusal to play her games, she turned to my friend.

"I must go now Mrs. Collins. You may come to Rosings later in the day to collect the flowers that I have had cut for the church. A little spring colour will no doubt go a long way to cheering up the populace."

The populace? Surely no-one had used that term since the sheriff tormented the townspeople of Nottingham I thought to myself as Miss de Bourgh turned her little trap around and drove off, inflicting yet more damage on the innocent flowerbed.

"Capital, capital," sang out Mr. Collins. He had picked up the phrase from his father-in-law and now used it with more frequency and less discretion that that good man had ever done. "What a wonderful lady! And now what do you have to say cousin Elizabeth? It is not everyday that Anne de Bourgh leaves the comfort of Rosings to indulge us with her presence."

"Indeed Mr. Collins, we are most fortunate," I replied. Charlotte, it seemed, caught my meaning, and could be heard giggling to herself as she smoothed out the soil of her flowerbed. Mr. Collins seemed to hear only what he wanted to, and carried on extolling the virtues of his patroness's daughter long after I had left him to help Charlotte.

I spent the remainder of the morning endeavouring to capture the characters of Lady Catherine and her daughter in a letter to my family. Needless to say, I left out much of the unpleasantness that had passed between Miss de Bourgh and myself, instead focussing on the more humorous parts of their personalities. If I mentioned at all that Mr. Darcy was present in Kent at that time, it was only in passing. There was little point in mentioning our planned trip to the coast - it would only make my sisters puzzled and my mother over-excited.

Composing characters had always entertained me, so I happily spent several hours writing, reading aloud to Charlotte any phrases that I was particularly pleased with. Her new parson's wife sensibilities were perhaps a little tested by some of my less generous comments, but she was still my Charlotte enough to see the humour in my words. As I was writing, I reflected for the first time on Miss de Bourgh's possessive attitude towards Mr. Darcy. Although I had heard from Wickham and herself of her betrothal to her cousin, he certainly did not act as though they were engaged, and neither, now that I thought about it, did she discuss it in a voice loud enough for anyone but myself to hear. Yet she had felt the need to warn me in a most aggressive manner that Mr. Darcy was to be her husband. Could it be, I wondered, that she fancied herself in love with him?

She did not seem the type. Nothing that I had seen of her led me to even believe her capable of such a sentiment, and yet, when I, a single woman of greater accomplishment than she - I was not too modest to acknowledge this - entered the game, she became as dangerous as a mother fox defending her cubs. I may not have had an fortune, but I could see why a frail woman like her might find me threatening. I considered myself to be everything that she was not - I was healthy and strong where she was weak and ill; I had grown up to be lively and, at times perhaps, a little impertinent, she had been brought up to think highly of herself and meanly of everyone else. Truly in my own estimation, I was by far the more attractive of the pair! I believed I had part of my solution - Miss de Bourgh was jealous of me, but whether or not she was in love with her cousin I could not yet fathom.

As I mused on my conclusions, I realised that Charlotte had not yet brought up the subject of the evening before. Knowing that it was only a matter of time before she did, and that it could only be done while Mr. Collins was absent, I took it upon myself to broach the topic in a most direct manner.

"I wonder that you have let most of the morning go by without asking me about my conversation with Miss de Bourgh."

"In truth, I did not know how to mention it. I was so very ashamed of taking you into company where you were so badly used. Are you exceedingly angry?"

"Not very. Not any more. But you know Miss de Bourgh better than I - is she always so direct?"

"I still do not know most of what passed between you, but I do believe that she has been brought up to be very spoiled. From what I can gather, she was a sickly child, not expected even to see her first birthday, and now, it is as though every year that she has lived has been stolen from the hand of God. Everyone has been so aware of her ill health that she has been allowed to get away with ill behaviour since a young age, and I fear that it is now too late for her to change."

"A sad fate indeed," I acknowledged.

"But it does not excuse her treatment of you Lizzy. You have done nothing to upset her."

"I believe I managed that simply by being me." At Charlotte's look of confusion I added, "single, young, healthy and female. I think that Miss de Bourgh took me as a rival for her cousin."

"Then I did hear her correctly last night when she referred to Mr. Darcy as her fiancée?" I nodded. "And yet Lizzy, I have never heard anyone to refer to him as that before. His name has come up frequently enough in conversation that if it were true I am sure I should now of it by now."

"It seems that it is an engagement of long standing, a betrothal from birth as I understand it. He certainly did not seem to feel encumbered to correct her. And do you not remember that Mr. Wickham told me of it months ago? I had all but forgotten until last night."

"Yes," she replied thoughtfully, "you are right, but then, I cannot believe that he heard much of your conversation. Miss de Bourgh's voice is so hard to hear anyway, that when she was standing with her back to him I doubt he would have heard more than a few words. And as for Lieutenant Wickham, I never set as much store by his words as you did. Let us not argue about that now though. What is more important is how you are feeling."

"Me? I am fine. A little bruised around the edges of my pride perhaps, and outraged at Mr. Darcy's scandalous behaviour in not informing his aunt and cousin of his invitation to us, but otherwise I am quite well. Do I not look it?" I asked playfully, preening and pulling my most seductive face.

"You know full well you are beautiful Elizabeth. And you know that is not what I meant!"

Assuring Charlotte that no feelings of mine had been truly hurt by either Miss de Bourgh or Mr. Darcy, I returned to finish my letter, adding a few bits of information about Charlotte's new household which I knew would interest my mother. After lunch, we decided to walk into Hunsford to purchase several items which Charlotte had need of. On departing the house, the weather remained beautifully clear and warm for the time of year. We strolled arm in arm to the town, chatting as girls do at such times, occasionally pausing to talk to people that we met on the road. As we approached the town, Charlotte returned the conversation to our previous topic.

"You neglected to tell me earlier how you feel about Mr. Darcy after last night?"

"I simply regard him as I always have done - as being proudly uncaring for the feelings of others."

"But what of his invitation to Augustine Lodge? What of his behaviour last night? Come Lizzy, you must have thoughts on that to share with me!"

"Simply that his behaviour last night was nothing short of atrocious. He allowed Miss de Bourgh to abuse me to my face and did nothing to prevent her."

"That is not quite true Lizzy. Will you hear my take on events?" I nodded, expecting to hear another of Charlotte's fanciful interpretations. "Mr. Darcy overheard little of what was exchanged between yourself and Miss de Bourgh. Do not scoff - I could hear but a few words, and I was closer than he. What I did observe however was his attention to you as Miss de Bourgh approached. His eyes remained fixed upon you until some time after she began speaking. A few moments later, he chose, deliberately in my opinion, to leave his place by the window, an action which caused his aunt to command you to play for her."

I could not help smiling at her attempts to redeem Mr. Darcy. "A very pretty interpretation Charlotte, but do you not feel that it makes Mr. Darcy a little too innocent? You mean to strip me of all my reasons for disliking him, purely because you have imagined some attachment to me on his part."

"I mean no such thing. I will agree that he was very wrong not to have told his family that he had invited us to attend him on Thursday, and that by failing to do so he placed us both, but especially you Lizzy, in a very awkward situation. But yes, I do still believe that he likes you, and I still believe that there is more to him than we have so far seen."

By this time we had reached the small town. Charlotte's list of items was short and we had soon purchased all that she needed. While she spoke with a parishioner that had need of her advice, I filled my time looking in the windows of some of the other shops in the street. While admiring a display of summer shawls in one shop, I was surprised to find myself looking straight at Mr. Darcy - evidently, I soon realised, engaged in acquiring the presents he had wished to buy for the children.

He saw me before I could look away, and strode out of the shop to meet me.

"Miss Bennet," he bowed. "I hope you are well?"

"Thank you Mr. Darcy, I am."

"Then perhaps I might request your assistance again. This establishment has a number of bags like the one you suggested I might buy for Miss Saxby, but I have been unable to decide which one to chose. I would be grateful for your opinion." With that he smiled at me in such a way as I had never seen him do before. Had I not still been angry with him for his shabby treatment of me I might have been a fair way to liking the man.

"I am afraid Mr. Darcy that I am here at Charlotte's leisure, and as you can see she is now coming to collect me."

Something like disappointment came into his eyes at my words. Without even pretending to look in Charlotte's direction to corroborate my words, he began to speak hurriedly.

"In that case perhaps you will allow me to apologise for the events of yesterday evening. I do not know the particulars of what was exchanged between my cousin and yourself, but I know Anne too well to hope that it was just another invitation to tea. My cousin can be," he paused, searching for the right word, "difficult. Her health is not good and in consequence she has been too much indulged by her family."

There was no time for him to say more. Charlotte drew alongside me and exchanged the usual pleasantries with Mr. Darcy. Despite the surprise I was feeling at his words, I was pleased to see that his courteous attentions to my friend continued, and soon found myself following them into the shop to peruse the selection of travelling bags that the proprietor had on display. The goods in the shop were beautiful, and Mr. Darcy spared no expense in his choice for his friend's daughter. Charlotte and I both agreed on the one we thought most suitable for a girl not yet thirteen, and were pleased to see him accept our choice without hesitation. He added to his purchase a silk purse that he said would be the perfect way to present a birthday gift that he had already bought for his housekeeper in Derbyshire and led us out of the shop, with directions for the nameplate on the bag to be engraved and delivered to Rosings the next day.

I was grateful that we parted company directly outside the establishment, as Mr. Darcy had completed his shopping and was expected at Rosings for tea.

"I do not wish to talk about it Charlotte," I began as soon as he had rounded the corner.

"About what?" she asked, all sweetness and innocence.

"About Mr. Darcy," was my reply.

"Oh, you mean your generous, handsome, intelligent admirer? Why ever would I want to talk to you about him and what it was that he had to say to you before I interrupted you both? After all, he is only the richest man we have ever met who also happens to be foolish enough to have fallen for your delights and temptations."

"Charlotte Collins, I do not believe a parson's wife should speak in such a manner. Anyway, I am sure I do not know what you mean."

She was silent at that, which provoked me more than any words might have done.

"You cannot be serious in maintaining that he likes me Charlotte," I cried. "He showed nothing but disdain for me in Hertfordshire and clearly could not wait to escape for London at the earliest possibility. Now that he finds himself here in Kent with his objectionable relations, he has no option but to grace us with his presence if he wishes for any sensible companions. I am sure he would not seek us out otherwise," I finished firmly.

"I am sure of that too Lizzy," said Charlotte, nodding her head too vigorously and failing to suppress her laughter as she did so. I rolled my eyes at her, my own laughter mixing with hers as we walked out of the town. It was so good to see Charlotte again!

Chapter 3

Posted on Monday, 7 November 2005

We did not see Mr. Darcy or his 'difficult' cousin again before our excursion on Thursday. Despite the doubts which Mr. Darcy had expressed to Miss de Bourgh, the day was as clear and bright as any we had yet seen that spring. Nonetheless, at Charlotte's urging I wore a warm coat and carried a shawl with me which I might wear if the weather became too hot for a coat. I couldn't help wondering how Charlotte was feeling as we waited for Mr. Darcy's carriage to arrive. She looked perfectly at ease, and I knew that she had always been confident when meeting new people, and yet, somehow, this did not feel to me altogether like a normal visit.

Just as I was thinking to ask her whether she thought that Mr. Darcy had invited us along purely to show his friends the inadequacies of young ladies from Hertfordshire, I heard his carriage enter the lane by Charlotte's home. Collecting my shawl and reticule, I silently followed my friend outside, surprised to notice that Mr. Darcy was apparently intending to travel in his carriage with us. I had been expecting that he would be on horseback, and was less than thrilled at the prospect of an hour's journey in his company.

I could not help but recall Charlotte's teasing about his plans to elope with me as he exited his carriage and greeted us with the most sombre of expressions upon his face. I was clearly in no danger from this man, unless one might consider spending a day in his barely tolerable presence to be dangerous. Still, it was the Kentish, polite version of Mr. Darcy who solicitously enquired after Mr. Collins' health as he handed Mrs. Collins into the carriage. Although I had no desire for his assistance, at his stepping forward to offer me his hand I had no choice but to accept. Leaning lightly on his hand as I ducked my head to enter the vehicle, I was surprised to see a gentler look appear on his face. I took my place among the soft cushions and rich upholstery of the carriage, Charlotte and I facing forwards, as he issued some final instructions to his driver and joined us within. It was with embarrassment that I noticed that his long legs did not fit easily into the confined space of the carriage, and I shuffled myself nearer to the window - under the pretext of wishing to see out - so that he might have more room.

The first ten minutes of our journey were passed easily. Mr. Darcy and Charlotte conversed about the weather and the countryside we were to pass through on our way to the coast. The subject of his relatives at Rosings was, it seemed, being deliberately ignored by both of them but, la, how I wished to enquire after his fiancée's health. I was hoping that it would all become clear when we arrived at Augustine Lodge. If his friends mentioned it, then the engagement must be real. Otherwise, and I was beginning to suspect that this was the case, it would only increase the likelihood that the engagement did not exist except in Miss de Bourgh's mind.

The blossoming spring lent a cheering beauty to the landscapes we travelled through. Everywhere I looked, trees were coming into bud and bulbs were awakening from their winter beds. How I longed to see the bright reds and yellows of tulips after the greyness of the winter just past.

"Kent is indeed aptly named the garden of England is it not Miss Bennet?" inquired Mr. Darcy.

"I agree that it is beautiful, sir, but there is much of our country that I have not yet seen - the lakes and the wilds of the north for instance. While everything that I have seen of Kent so far agrees with your assertion, I do not feel that I will be qualified to judge until I have seen the rest."

"You look forward to seeing the wilds of the north then?"

His question surprised me - for it implied that he knew of the trip my aunt and uncle were planning. "I am certainly looking forward to visiting the lake district. So many of our great writers have been inspired by their beauty that I am sure it must be wonderful to behold."

Now, it seemed, it was Mr. Darcy's turn to be confused.

"Miss Bennet's uncle and aunt have invited her to accompany them on a tour of the north in the summer, Mr. Darcy." Charlotte obviously understood something that I did not, for her statement seemed to appease him immediately.

"Will you be travelling through Derbyshire at all do you know?" he asked me with genuine interest.

"I believe we will. My aunt grew up there."

"Really - do you know whereabouts?

"A village called Lambton."

"Remarkable," he exclaimed, "that is not five miles from Pemberley - the Darcy estate." Then, after a short pause, he astonished me more than at any other point in our acquaintance so far. "I must insist Miss Bennet, when you visit, you must stay at Pemberley. My sister and I would be delighted to welcome you and your companions."

To say I was shocked at his invitation would have been a great falsehood. Mr. Darcy, inviting me to stay with him? Why ever should he do that? Completely unable to muster a response, I looked at Charlotte in desperation.

"What a lovely idea," she offered hastily and not altogether convincingly. "We have heard much praise of Pemberley from Miss Bingley, yet even so, I feel I know little of substance about it. The house was built by your father I believe?"

With Charlotte's gentle questioning, Mr. Darcy warmed to the topic, speaking with unexpected tenderness about his home and the people who lived there. His sister soon became the focus of their conversation, capturing my full interest. I was keen to see what Mr. Darcy would say of the young woman who Mr. Wickham had told me was as proud and disagreeable as he. Listening to them talk, I soon became aware of the fact that Mr. Darcy was showing Charlotte a respect which I had never seen from him. It seemed almost as though he was seeking advice from my friend on how to raise his young ward. His concerns for his sister were clearly genuine and I began to recognise that the pitifully shy girl he described was nothing like the objectionable young woman Mr. Wickham had spoken of.

"Would you say that your sister has many friends Mr. Darcy?" I suddenly found myself asking.

Turning to me as I blushed at my careless interruption, his tone grew even more concerned as he answered that he did not believe that she did have many friends, but that he had been able to find an excellent companion who had been with her for the last eight months.

"And she resides for most of the year in Derbyshire sir?" asked Charlotte.

"Yes. By her own choice, I would add."

"Are there not any local families with girls of her own age locally that she could visit with?"

"I think that perhaps there are. But Georgie rarely finds the courage to pay visits, and without a mother to guide her as she ought to have been, I am afraid that her shy sensibilities have been too indulged by myself."

"I do not think that anyone would judge you harshly for that sir," said Charlotte kindly. "From all that you have told us this morning, I would venture to be so bold as to say that Miss Darcy sounds like a charming young woman, and that all she lacks is a little courage, which can be easily gained with the right encouragement."

I watched from the corner of my eye as Mr. Darcy fidgeted under my friend's praise. I thought to tell him that I agreed with her conclusions, but at that moment the carriage turned into a short driveway. We had arrived at Augustine Lodge.

The lodge was smaller than I had imagined. Given his reaction to our society in Hertfordshire, I had assumed that Mr. Darcy would chose to associate only with people who he considered to be his equals. Yet here we were, visiting a family whose house looked to be even smaller than Longbourne. Before the carriage had stopped, the eager sound of young voices could be heard from inside the house, calling, I presumed, to their parents that their guests had arrived. I could well remember my excitement whenever my uncle and aunt Gardiner came to visit when I was a child, and smiled at the memories the children's voices brought back.

Mr. Darcy handed us out of the carriage. Feeling somewhat less displeased with him than I had done an hour ago, and wanting to be a good guest to the Saxby's, I thanked him politely for his assistance. Mr. and Mrs. Saxby stepped forward to greet us, each meeting Mr. Darcy with a fondness that I had not expected. Indeed, rather than bowing in his formal manner to Mrs. Saxby, he actually leaned in to kiss her cheek. Rarely had I seen people who were not related greet each other in such a fashion, and that Mr. Darcy would ever do such a thing would have been unthinkable just moments before.

Charlotte and I were met with great civility, Mrs. Saxby immediately making us feel welcome in her home. She proudly introduced the children to us, Clara making a very proper and ladylike curtsey to all of us, earning her a formal bow from Mr. Darcy who delighted her further by bringing her hand to his lips to kiss. Thomas on the other hand was greeted with a warm handshake and a promise of presents once we were inside.

The mention of gifts was enough to excite both children even further, and at their insistence we were immediately shown through to the drawing room where Clara and her mother served refreshments. Amid the hustle of present giving and tea drinking, I took the time to observe Mr. Darcy. He seemed to genuinely care for these people, who looked to be a few years older than himself. He sat at ease in their presence, talking as much with Mrs. Saxby and her children as with Mr. Saxby, genuinely interested in all that the young people had to say.

We soon learned that Mr. Saxby and Mr. Darcy had become friends at university, where the former had been a tutor to both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley. He was a medical man, with a great interest in public health and the new science of vaccinations which I believe he would have talked about at great length had not Mrs. Saxby laughingly interrupted him. I had taken an immediate liking to her. She was past the bloom of youth, yet had one of the softest, gentlest faces I had ever seen. As with my Jane, it seemed that the spirit was in her was equal to the beauty of her face, and she soon revealed herself to be a well educated, caring woman - a definite candidate for even Mr. Darcy's high standard of an accomplished woman.

As it was a lovely day, it was soon proposed that we might go for a walk to the coast, thus giving Thomas the chance to see if he could get his kite into the air. Once outside, the children soon ran ahead while Mr. Saxby engaged Charlotte in a conversation about how she was finding life in Kent. Finding myself with Mrs. Saxby and Mr. Darcy, I accepted his arm as we strolled along and listened interestedly to them talk. It had apparently been a while since they had last seen each other, and while they were, I gathered, regular correspondents, letters have never been an adequate substitute for actually seeing someone. They had much to talk about, and I was happy to hear it, learning more and more about the man I thought I knew. Most of all I longed to hear them speak of Miss de Bourgh, that I might finally discover if there was an understanding between the cousins. Alas they spoke of everything but, and my interest began to lessen.

"And how is Mr. Bingley?" asked Mrs. Saxby as we approached the promenade that ran along the edge of the beach. Now this was a subject that I was eager to hear more on. Despite my anger with Mr. Darcy, a feeling which I had almost forgotten until that moment, he was the only person I knew who could tell me why that gentleman had deserted my sister. I was not surprised however to feel him arm tense under my hand at mention of his friend's name. Was he as ashamed of Mr. Bingley's conduct as I was? While I did not believe that Mr. Darcy would approve of an engagement between Mr. Bingley and my dear Jane, I was confident that he must have been aware of the poor treatment that my sister received from his friend. No wonder he was embarrassed to have the subject raised in my presence.

"He is well. I left him in London in the company of his sisters."

"I have heard from friends that he has not been seen at many events of the ton this season. There are rumours that he is suffering from a broken heart."

"When is Bingley not suffering from a broken heart?" laughed Mr. Saxby as our group caught up with him and the rest of the party, preventing Mr. Darcy from making what I was sure would have been a very interesting response. "Would you mind holding my hat for me my dear?" he asked his wife as he handed it to her. "You won't be offended I hope Mrs. Collins if I forget my dignity and revert to my boyhood for a dew moments? Only it has been too long since I have had a kite to play with."

"I think you'll find that the kite actually belongs to your son," said Mr. Darcy drolly.

"Too true Fitz, too true. But someone must teach the boy how to fly it. Come on Tom, let's see if we can get this beauty into the air." And so saying Mr. Saxby ran onto the dunes and set about instructing his son in the finer points of kite flying.

"You may go too if you like Clara. I'm sure your brother will need your help in getting the kite away from your father!" Without hesitation, Miss Saxby, caught as she was between childhood and the time when society would expect her to become a young lady, hurried off to join her brother on the beach. Mr. Darcy excused himself and followed her, leaving Mrs. Saxby, Charlotte and I to stroll along the walkway together. Having expected to encounter little more than polite civility in our welcome at Augustine Lodge, it was with no small measure of surprise that Charlotte and I soon found ourselves asked to call Mrs. Saxby by her Christian name. By the time we rejoined the others, we were chattering and giggling away like old friends.

Beautiful as it was, the calm spring day was of no use at all when it came to flying a kite, and so we decided to return to the house for an early luncheon. It was then that we met Mrs. Tomlinson, Emily Saxby's widowed aunt who lived with the family and assisted with the running of the house. A homely, Scottish lady, she had a warm, motherly air about her which, I was amused to notice, she directed particularly at Mr. Darcy. Her disinterested care for him was fascinating, and she fussed over his comfort and ease with tender affection. Why she felt that Mr. Darcy of all people was in need of her concern I do not know, but it was clear that he was used to receiving such treatment from her. Indeed, he did seem more relaxed in the presence of this loving family than I had ever observed him to be elsewhere.

It soon became apparent that, while the Saxby's employed a housekeeper and several maids, all of the females in the house were used to working in the kitchens. Since staying with Charlotte I had acquired several new skills, including how to assist in the kitchen - my own mother having thought this an unnecessary accomplishment for her daughters to learn. Emily and Mrs. Tomlinson however would not hear of us helping to prepare the meal, and so left us in the company of the gentleman for a short time. While Thomas reverently unpacked his new regiment of soldiers, Charlotte, Clara and I flicked through a fashion magazine, laughing at some of the more ridiculous outfits that were apparently in vogue at that time among the fashionable set in the ton. My attention was occasionally diverted by the gentlemen's conversation.

"How are your parents these days Anthony?" Mr. Darcy enquired.

"As well as can be expected," his friend replied. "My father has not been entirely well since he was struck by the influenza last winter, but mother is still as strong and lively as ever." Catching me following their conversation, he added, "My father was the vicar at Kympton, Miss Bennet, a handsome living which falls under Mr. Darcy's generous patronage, but he has been retired for some five years or so now."

I could not hear the last without a flush of indignation on behalf of Mr. Wickham coming to my cheeks. I looked away as all that I knew of Mr. Darcy rushed through my mind. Here was a man, revelling in the company of friends who were decidedly beneath him in many respects, who was charming and attentive, yet who had been so very different when in Hertfordshire that on paper, one would not recognise him as the same man. Despite his attempts to be more civil, I could not like a man who could treat another with such contempt.

"And are your parents now living close by?" asked Charlotte when it became clear that I was not going to respond.

"Thankfully yes, they are but ten miles from here, which as I am sure you will appreciate is a great comfort to us all. We do not all enjoy Fitz's easy attitude to travel. I believe he would think nothing of journeying to London and back in a day - but I have never been so easy in the saddle, and our carriage is nothing to his."

"I will admit that travel becomes easier the more you do, and I will not be so churlish as to deny the comfort of a good carriage. As for travelling to London, I go there next week, so I will tell you after that how easy a distance it is in one day."

"When do you go, Fitz?" asked Emily as she and her aunt returned to announce that lunch was ready. "Only we are having a small party here next Tuesday evening for Anthony's birthday and we had very much hoped that you might join us. Charlotte and Elizabeth, you must come too," she added generously.

"My appointment in town is for Thursday, so it would be my pleasure to return here earlier in the week," Mr. Darcy replied.

"Wonderful," smiled Anthony before turning and asking Charlotte and I if we would be able to accompany his friend again. "It will only be a small party, nothing grand I am afraid, but I have always believed that there is much truth in the saying 'the more the merrier'."

I looked to Charlotte to answer, hoping that she had discerned my lack of desire to spend any more time with Mr. Darcy.

"Unfortunately Mr. Saxby, I have an engagement for that evening already, which means that while Elizabeth is free, there is no-one to accompany her."

I tried to look disappointed at Charlotte's politely given refusal, but was inwardly greatly relieved.

"Perhaps I might be of use then," offered Mrs. Tomlinson in her gentle lilting voice. "If my nephew will be so good as to lend me his carriage for the day, I would be more than happy to escort Miss Bennet here in the afternoon. She could stay the night and we could all accompany her back the next day. It would be a lovely excuse to do a little shopping and visit friends in Hunsford. We haven't seen Miss Taylor or Miss Scott for far too long. What do you say my dear?"

This last was spoken to me, but it was Emily who first announced the plan to be wonderful. With everyone else, including my own traitorous Charlotte, proclaiming it to be a perfect solution, I found myself with little choice but to accede. And so it was fixed. Mr. Darcy and I were to attend Mr. Saxby's birthday party the following Tuesday.

Chapter 4

She and Charlotte soon began to speak of household management and economy. Feeling that I had little to add to the conversation, and seeking a little exercise, I excused myself that I might explore the garden a little. Emily directed me towards a small copse of trees near the boundary fence. She told me that she had often seen deer in the woods, so I decided to walk over and see if I could spot any of the shy creatures.

On my way I overheard the children laughing. Looking to where their voices were coming from, I watched quietly as Mr. Darcy swung little Thomas in circles around him, holding onto the boy's abdomen and lifting him to his own chest. That Mr. Darcy was a handsome man I already knew, but on seeing him as relaxed and playful as this his masculine beauty seemed softened. He looked less like the statues I had seen of Greek gods, and more like any other young man at play. I was fascinated by this relaxed, youthful Darcy, content to submit to the caring attentions of the Saxby's and Mrs. Tomlinson.

While I was stood there, Emily and Charlotte came up behind me. They had decided to have a pair of archery targets set up on the lawn, Charlotte, unbeknownst to me, having long harboured a desire to try the sport. Neither of us had ever shot before, but our new friend assured us that it was neither difficult nor dangerous and promised to teach us herself. Summoning the rest of the party to join us, Emily and her husband led the way back to the house. Thomas rode on his new hero's back, while Clara happily linked her arms with mine and Charlotte's, issuing us with our first sporting instructions as we walked.

Mrs. Saxby, it turned out, had been something of a champion at the sport when at school. She cut a fine figure with the bow as she demonstrated the technique to the rest of us. Of course, the rest of her family and Mr. Darcy had shot before, but all were content to watch the expert at work. Her elegant posture as she stood tall and erect, arms raised and outstretched, betrayed the power of the weapon in her hands. Silently, we waited as she adjusted her aim, until in one tiny movement she released the arrow which flew straight and true into the centre of the target. Emily held her pose for a moment longer before turning to us with a smile.

"That's all there is to it. Now, Elizabeth, you must take a turn."

Trying to follow all of her advice, I endeavoured to emulate Emily's stance as best I could. I was aware of the eyes of the other's on me as I raised the bow in my left hand, drawing the string back with my right, conscious of the way in which my figure was being displayed as I did so. Still, I knew that I was at least tolerable to behold, so I refused to be put off by their presence, however critical one of the party may chose to be. Bringing my right hand close to my cheek I took aim and let loose. The most I can say about what happened next is that the arrow did fly in the correct direction. That it span wildly in the air and fell twenty yards short of the target is a matter I would rather forget.

Choosing to laugh rather than be embarrassed, I turned back to the others to face their taunts. Thomas and Clara could hardly contain their amusement, while Mr. Saxby was doing little better. It was Mr. Darcy though who spoke first.

"It seems, Miss Bennet, that a little more practice may be in order before you are ready to enter into competition. Perhaps you might allow me to assist you while Emily teaches Mrs. Collins?"

Not at all keen on the idea of Mr. Darcy instructing me, I nevertheless accepted in order that Charlotte might have her chance to shoot. Mr. Darcy passed me another bow and asked me to take up the position that Emily had just shown me. Pulling back my shoulders and raising my arms, I felt exposed as never before. Forcing myself to remember my surroundings I calmed the blush which I was sure must be overtaking my cheeks and awaited Mr. Darcy's next comment.

Rather than directing me verbally, I felt his hand under mine, gently lifting the bow a little higher and adjusting the angle at which I held it.

"If I may?" he asked in a quiet voice which somehow drowned out all the noise of the garden and our companions, before moving to cover my right hand with his own. Exerting a tentative pressure, he encouraged me to pull the string tauter, and brushed my cheek with his gloved fingers as he brought my hand to rest against my face.

"Now," he continued from somewhere close behind me, still speaking in a hushed voice, "Look down the shaft of the arrow to the target. Relax your shoulders, and when you are ready, release the arrow."

His hot breath on my ear made it almost impossible for me to breathe let alone aim a potentially deadly arrow. Surely this was not proper behaviour, and yet, Mr. Saxby was now assisting Charlotte with her shot, while Mrs. Saxby spoke nearby with her aunt. Feeling him still behind me I lowered the bow, pointing it safely at the ground before turning.

I do not know what I had intended to say, but as I made eye contact with him I found myself wanting only to scream and stamp my foot at the inconsistencies of this man. How was it that he could make me feel such a variety of emotions within such a short time?

"Miss Bennet?" he asked in a louder voice. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, thank you. I just needed to rest my arms a little."

"I have often been told that the secret to archery is to stay relaxed. How one does this while also adopting the necessary posture I have never quite understood, but I do believe that it becomes impossible to do if you become tired."

I did not know what to reply, so instead suggested that he might like to take a shot while I observed for a moment. I soon regretted my suggestion, for all I achieved with it was another opportunity to admire his fine figure. Mr. Darcy's shot flew through the air, planting itself neatly in the blue ring of the target. Seeking a distraction, I watched as Charlotte launched her second arrow, this time just hitting the target but with insufficient force for the arrow to make a mark. I was pleased to see her enjoying herself with the Saxby's before my attention was drawn back to my partner.

I stepped forward again to take my shot, feeling once again Mr. Darcy's fingers refining my position. As he moved behind me I sensed that I had been granted his permission to make my shot. Releasing the string I watched in delight as the arrow remained straight in the air, flying in the correct direction but too low, so that it hit the ground before reaching the target. Still, it was only my second ever shot and I was improving.

Charlotte and I practised some more, receiving plenty of advice and not a little praise whenever we did something well. I was longing to take Charlotte away from the others to discover what she thought of Mr. Darcy's unusual behaviour this day, but any private conversation would have to wait until we were back at the parsonage. After many more attempts, we were both able to hit the target with some consistency, if not quite what you might call accuracy, so it was decided that we should have a small competition. There were to be two teams, with Mr. and Mrs. Saxby as captains. It was decided that the two gentlemen should not be on the same team, so Mr. Darcy joined Emily with me as their third. Charlotte and Mrs. Tomlinson were to go with Mr. Saxby, and there was to be a prize of floral wreath for the winners.

Thomas and Clara quickly set to work making the wreath, the competition being somewhat impromptu, while the first shooters took their positions. Mrs. Saxby scored a perfect ten, Mr. Saxby, who declared loudly that his wife had deliberately distracted him with a well timed cough, a seven. Mrs. Tomlinson surprised Charlotte and I with her agility and gracefully shot an eight, before Mr. Darcy managed to ignore his friend's attempts to make him miss and scored another seven.

Grimacing slightly to each other in our doubts over our abilities, Charlotte and I stepped up to take our shots. Cries of encouragement from our teams spurred us on as we raised our arms together. Taking aim, I concentrated as hard as I knew how on achieving the correct direction, remembering Mr. Darcy's advice on staying relaxed while also pulling the string right back to my cheek. Letting go, I heard the string snap back as the arrow took flight. Watching as both arrows flew through the air even my inexperienced eye could soon tell that Charlotte's looked likely to hit the target, while I had apparently over compensated for my earlier errors. I watched in dismay as my arrow continued its journey over and beyond the target, while Charlotte's hit the outer ring and secured two points for her team.

Pretending to be horrified at my failure, I shook my head in shame at the laughter I heard from my companions.

"Never mind, Elizabeth," laughed Emily, "you've still got four more tries to get it right."

"Four more chances to make a fool of myself you mean!" I responded. Still, the competition was fun and I didn't mind being the worst player. Emily's prowess more than made up for my own failings so our team was ahead by three points after the fourth round. She and Mr. Darcy maintained our lead with their fifth shots, but the gap was now down to just two points. Having scored two points twice and five points once, it was possible that Charlotte could win the game for her team. Since my best score was a pathetic one point, the best I hoped for from my final shot was that it might again hit the target.

Much coughing and stamping of feet greeted our first attempt to shoot, until Mrs. Tomlinson berated the others for their lack of compassion on us.

"Besides," she admitted with a wicked smile, "they're both so bad that they don't need our help to miss!"

Attempting to subdue my laughter that I might hold the bow steady, I took my aim and shot. I jumped in triumph when I saw my arrow find its home in the target, scoring a valuable two points for my team. It was my best score of the day and Emily hugged me in delight at my success. Everyone turned to watch Charlotte prepare for her shot. I recognised the familiar signs of a blush on my friend's cheeks - she had never been comfortable being the centre of attention, even now as a married woman she struggled with it. But I was impressed as she kept her composure and drew back the string with a feminine grace that she rarely demonstrated. Taking her time to settle into position, she drew back the string and shot.

Her team needed five points to win, a score we knew her to be capable of. To our great amusement, her arrow struck home in the blue ring, winning her team four points. The scores were tied and we all celebrated in the fading light.

"I think we shall have to call this a draw," announced Mr. Saxby.

"Who shall wear the crown then?" asked Thomas, anxious to have his creation awarded to someone.

"Charlotte," Emily and I simultaneously declared. "For she has played wonderfully for her first attempt," added Emily.

Blushing yet again, Charlotte knelt so that Thomas might place the crown on her head. To the little boy's delight, my good friend kept the wreath on her head while we all went inside to partake of the refreshments that had been prepared for us by the housekeeper. Shortly afterwards, Mr. Darcy sent for his carriage and we all said our goodbyes.

"You must come again," said Mrs. Saxby. "Oh I know you're coming on Tuesday Elizabeth, but you must both come back so that we might repeat our competition and see which team really is the best."

"Indeed," chimed Mr. Saxby, "That is, I enjoyed Miss Bennet's spectacular misses so much that it would be cruel of you to deny us another chance to watch her. Fitz, I demand that you bring these lovely ladies back to us as soon as possible."

"It would be my pleasure," replied Mr. Darcy, with such a genuine tone of voice that I knew not what to make of it.

The carriage ride home was a quiet affair. For my part, I found myself dwelling on the events of the day in an attempt to reach some sort of understanding about the owner of the luxurious carriage I sat in. Until this day, I had known Mr. Darcy to be taciturn, abrupt, proud, dismissive. I could go on but I realised that, to be fair, I had also to add some positive attributes to that list. He was undeniably intelligent, he was a good rider and looked well on his horse. He seemed to be a good friend to Mr. Bingley, and even Mr. Wickham had allowed him to be capable of pleasing where he chose. Yet he showed no desire to please his aunt or his cousin, and his puzzling behaviour around them I certainly did not understand.

With the Saxby's however, he was a different person. He had been charming and considerate, and livelier than I had ever seen him. His respect for Charlotte was clear from the way he addressed her, and his attentions to me had been undeniably improved. My mind wandered back to the moment when he stood so close behind me, his hand on mine as he guided my arms to the correct position. My mind raced at the memory of his touch. But, I reasoned, I had rarely touched a man except when dancing, and contented myself in attributing the tingling sensation that I felt at his closeness to that.

However well he behaved though, however charming and handsome he could be, there was still the matter of his ill-treatment of Mr. Wickham. Were the Saxby's aware of Mr. Darcy's actions after the Reverend Saxby had retired from the living at Kympton? I presumed they were not, after all it would have been nothing to do with them. But I did know the story, and I warned myself about the dangers of letting Mr. Darcy charm himself into my good books. The man was not to be trusted, and I was not going to be made a fool of.

In the failing light I looked up to see Charlotte with her head resting against the side of the carriage, her eyes shut as the motion of the conveyance lulled her to sleep. I smiled to myself as I remembered how easily she and Emily had become friends, promising to see each other regularly when we left that day. I hoped that Mr. Collins would not get in the way of their friendship, knowing that it would not be easy for my friend to invite the Saxby's to visit her for fear of what her silly husband might say or do. But I was beginning to see that, in her own way, Charlotte was happy in her marriage and in the knowledge that her sister and mother would be provided for if anything were to happen to her father. It was not an arrangement that would have suited me, but I was satisfied to see that she was content with her situation.

Being the silent type, I did not think that Mr. Darcy would require any conversation during our journey. I therefore chose to continue in silence, enjoying my own company for the remainder of the ride, and speaking only to wake Charlotte as we drew near to her home.

Mr. Collins was already outside the parsonage as we drew into the lane, apparently having been waiting outside for us for some time. Before Mr. Darcy had a chance to step out to hand us down, my cousin was at the carriage door, offering his own hand to his wife to assist her. Following us out, I watched as Mr. Darcy inconspicuously stretched his legs while being forced to listen to Mr. Collins' long winded and outrageous thanks for his attention to us. To his credit, Mr. Darcy bore his tirade of appreciation well, but understandably declined the offer of refreshments, for once finding the company at Rosings to be preferable.

And so he took his leave, bowing somewhat more informally to us than he had done on previous occasions and promising to convey Mr. Collins' compliments to his aunt when he saw her.

"Well, my dear," my cousin began once we were in the house, "I hope you have had a nice day. For my part, the bishop said he had heard a report from Archdeacon Leighton that my sermons were unlike any he had ever listened to. Is that not wonderful? I thanked him most profusely for his comments, and assured him that I always asked Lady Catherine for her advice before preaching on a Sunday."

"And what said he to that Mr. Collins?" asked his good wife, as I tried to maintain a semblance of composure.

"He was most impressed I assure you. 'Mr. Collins,' he said, 'I praise my God in heaven that you are a rarity among men. Lady Catherine has indeed found herself a unique soul in you, sir.' I hastened to Rosings on my return to tell her Ladyship and to pass on the bishop's good wishes. He forgot to give them to me specifically, but I was sure that he would have wished me to convey them had he remembered."

"Indeed," agreed Charlotte. "You are very good sir."

Mr. Collins remained with us for the rest of the evening, unceasing in his praise of Lady Catherine and his implied criticisms of everyone else. When I could stand it no longer, I pleased fatigue and escaped to my chamber where I again congratulated myself on rejecting his proposal as I prepared for sleep.

Chapter 5

The next morning I set out on a solitary ramble. Charlotte did not ask to accompany me, knowing my habit of walking alone. As I had already explored the area to the east of the house, I set off with the sun on my back to find what new sights the estate still had to offer me. After walking some distance, I came upon what I presumed to be the kitchen garden, a walled garden from which the scent of many herbs and still room flowers could be detected on the breeze. The gate was unlocked so I let myself in, rubbing my hands across the tops of the fragrant plants. I crushed some rosemary between my fingers, inhaling its clean, pungent aroma that reminded me of home.

I took my time in the herb garden, amusing myself by trying to identify each of the plants and their medicinal properties. Chives and chervil to aid digestion, parsley to freshen the breath, lavender for gentle sleep, sage to sooth a sore throat, lemon balm to sooth the spirit. It was obvious, even to my inexpert eye, that Lady Catherine's gardeners were not overly diligent in their work. Our gardens at Longbourn, while smaller and less grand, were better kept than these. But then, Lady Catherine did not strike me as the kind of mistress who would chose to closely oversee the work of her staff.

Still holding the stalk of rosemary, I left the garden, thinking it high time for me to return to the parsonage. My thoughts returned to the topic which had engaged them for the past few days. Why had Mr Darcy invited Charlotte and I to visit Augustine Lodge with him? Now that we had met Mr and Mrs Saxby, it was clear that he had not requested our company so as to find fault with us, or as a means of entertaining Mrs Saxby while he visited with his friend. No indeed, for Mr Darcy's regard for Emily was clear from the moment we arrived.

Hesitantly, I allowed myself to ponder a third alternative, the one which Charlotte had been promoting all along. Did Mr Darcy harbour tender feelings for me? I could not believe it. Only several months before, in Hertfordshire, his behaviour towards me had been inexcusable. He had been consistently withdrawn and even ungentlemanly in his conduct, his disapproval clear for all to see. And yet, since being in Kent, he seemed altered, as though he desired the companionship of Charlotte and myself.

I was beginning to ponder how I should comport myself in his presence so as to show him that his suit was not welcome, just in case Charlotte should prove correct in her assumptions, when I heard footsteps coming towards me. Readying myself for an encounter with Mr Collins, who had already been to pay his respects at Rosings that morning, I was therefore not prepared to meet the subject of my recent thoughts.

“Mr Darcy,” I exclaimed, willing myself not to blush and betray my musings.

“Good morning Miss Bennet. I trust you are well?”

“Yes, thank you.” Seeing that he was not about to reply I sought to keep the conversation neutral by showing his the piece of herb in my hand. “I have been enjoying the company of Lady Catherine's herb beds.”

“My aunt grows a good variety of plants. I believe many of them are used to make tonics and medicinal draughts for Anne.”

His cousin was still not an easy subject for me, but I did not want our conversation to end so quickly. My mental ramblings had left me curious about Mr Darcy's feelings for me, and while I certainly had no wish to encourage him, I decided that maybe it was possible to test him a little.

“Mrs Collins and I were delighted to make the acquaintance of the Saxby's yesterday Mr Darcy. Does Mrs Saxby visit with your cousin often when you are not in the county?”

Boldly looking him in the eye that I might observe his reaction, I saw a flicker of some emotion cross his face as he answered. “My cousin has not yet had the good fortune to meet Mrs Saxby. Her ill health makes it difficult for her to travel away from Rosings.”

“Mrs Saxby does not visit you at Rosings when you are here then?”

“I find it more convenient for me to visit the Saxby's than the other way round. It is always easier for me to journey to them than the other way around.”

“Of course,” I answered demurely, having gained much information from this brief exchange. After talking a little more about the Saxby's and the day that we had passed there I decided that it would be best for me to return to the parsonage lest I be accused of encouraging the gentleman, should he be in a state to be encouraged. I still did not know what to make of his changed behaviour towards me.

Rather than bid me good day, Mr Darcy requested that he might accompany me home. I was reluctant to accept his offer but saw no polite way of refusing. And so I found myself taking his arm as we strolled back towards the lane that bordered the estate. During our walk I took care to describe to Mr Darcy the paths that I had begun to favour for my walks, that I might know in future whether he sought me out or not. But even though I deliberately observed him for any indication of his feelings, I discerned no clue about his supposed affection for me. All I can say of his behaviour that morning is that it was suited to the very best of gentlemen, a title I would never have expected to bestow on my surprising companion.

Mrs Collins met us outside the cottage upon our return. Seeing that my friend was unusually flustered, Mr Darcy politely bade us farewell and left us alone.

“My dear Charlotte, whatever is the matter?” I asked, leading her to sit on the bench that rested against the house.

“Oh Lizzy, Mr Collins has returned from Rosings in a terrible state. From what I can gather, Lady Catherine was most upset with you – although why I cannot fathom. You have not even seen her Ladyship since Tuesday. I believe that Mr Darcy may have inadvertently drawn her attention to you following our visit yesterday. Anyway, Lady Catherine berated Mr Collins for allowing you to go and now he seems determined to make you apologise to her.”

“And what am I meant to be apologising for?” I cried.

“Be calm Lizzy. We both know that you have nothing to apologise for,”

“Indeed not,” I interrupted her. “Mr Darcy may apologise for his inconsiderate behaviour in not informing his aunt as he should have done, Lady Catherine may apologise for being an interfering old bat – don't look at me so Charlotte, you know it is true - my cousin may apologise for siding with his patroness over his own family, but as far as I am aware, I have done nothing wrong.”

“I know you have not, but perhaps it would be best if you made a show of listening to what Mr Collins is determined to say. You need not answer him, just look as though you are paying heed to his words and he will be satisfied.” I looked carefully at my friend – was this how she survived in her marriage? I would not pity her for it, indeed she would not want me to, but at the same time I vowed once again not to settle for such a life myself. “For my sake Elizabeth.”

“Anything for you! Although you know how hard it will be for me to remain silent.”

We both laughed at that. Readying ourselves for the onslaught to come, we squared our shoulders and walked arm in arm into the house where Mr Collins directly ushered us into his study. Bidding us both to take a seat he remained standing, his hands on his hips in what he seemed to think a posture of authority, and immediately commenced his lecture.

“As you are no doubt aware, Cousin Elizabeth, I have ventured to Rosings already this morning to pay the compliments which are due to the ladies of that great house where I was ashamed to learn that the honourable Lady Catherine, a woman of such grace and condescension as is rarely met with in one of elevated social status, has been most grievously offended by your behaviour. It simply will not do for a guest of mine to cause distress to a person of such noble birth.

“I believe you understand what I mean when I say that we all know you to be capable of using your feminine wiles and arts to attract suitors, but her Ladyship was most clear this morning that such games will not be tolerated when they involve her own esteemed relations. She has therefore issued an invitation for you to attend her this afternoon at four o'clock, that you might deliver your humble apologies and assurances regarding your future behaviour to her in person.

“And I would add, cousin, that as your guardian, I am shocked that you would make advances to an engaged gentleman. You must remember that I am a clergyman, and must be seen to be above such desires of the flesh. While you remain in my house, I must have your word that you will desist in your attentions to Mr Darcy.”

I sat appalled at his words, silent not only for Charlotte's sake but also because I knew that any argument on my part would only encourage my foolish cousin in his delusions. That I was expected to apologise to Lady Catherine for something I had not done was too much however. Mr Collins might chose to grovel to his patroness as much as he liked, but he would find it a long time before I would do the same. And as for desisting in my attentions to Mr Darcy – I was silent simply because I knew not how to respond to such an allegation.

“Now, now cousin,” Mr Collins went on, obviously thinking that he needed to console me, “Lady Catherine has most graciously offered you this chance of redemption. You must only display your gratitude as befits the occasion and she will bestow her forgiveness upon you, for she is a woman unparalleled in mercy and justice. No more will need to be said on the matter. But I must insist that you wear your finest attire and pay especial attention to your appearance so that our esteemed neighbour might see the seriousness with which you undertake your mission.”

Still mute from astonishment, I sat silently until Charlotte stood and beckoned me out of the room. Once outside, my anger vented forth in an outburst which I am ashamed to remember. Mr Collins, Lady Catherine, her spiteful daughter, even Mr Darcy had all incurred my fury, and my poor friend was forced to listen to my response. Yet, with little choice in the matter and Charlotte's well being foremost in my mind, at twenty of four I found myself walking towards the great, be-windowed house of Rosings Park, for my interview with the domineering Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Having already spent the worst of my anger in Charlotte's parlour, I was calm as I walked up the steps of the ostentatious mansion. I still felt the injustice of Lady Catherine's summons, but tempered my anger with a feeling of righteousness which I did not judge to be misplaced. I had done nothing to rouse her censure. As far as I could see, of all the protagonists in this drama, I was the most innocent.

A footman announced me to her Ladyship, who sat with Miss de Bourgh in the overheated drawing room where we had passed the evening a few nights before. Neither lady greeted me as they should have, an insult which I did not miss. Their pride and selfish disdain for others was worse than that of Mr Darcy, and I had to repeatedly warn myself against rising to their bait.

“Miss Bennet, you can be under no allusion about why I have asked you here,” began Lady Catherine in a tone that would have terrified my mother and sisters. “I have always been in possession of a generous and liberal nature, and many people of inferior position have flourished through my attentions. Your cousin and his wife are two of those fortunate souls upon whom I have chosen to bestow my unparalleled wisdom and guidance. You, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, could have been another.”

I believe that by this stage in her monologue I was meant to be looking somewhat meek and contrite. I suspected rather that my expression betrayed a mixture of amusement and horror at Lady Catherine's words. I anticipated much more ridiculous bluster before she ran out of breath.

“I was willing to open my house to you, to entertain you in ways far superior to that of Hertfordshire society, to assist you in mastering accomplishments beyond the means of your father. I had hoped to find in you a character that could be moulded in such a way that you might have adopted some of the graces which ladies of my dear Anne's position in life naturally possess. You could have learnt a lot from my daughter, but it seems that you have chosen to ignore the advice of your betters in favour of flaunting your arts and allurements in a shameless attempt to fool my nephew into marrying you.”

This last killed off any amusement that I had found in her diatribe so far. Her extravagant claims regarding her daughter were laughable, but I could not laugh at being called a woman without shame. The abuse of my character was far from over I soon realised, only this time it was the daughter who poured forth her vitriol without offering me the slightest chance to defend myself.

“Do not think, Miss Bennet, that your make Darcy desire you have passed unnoticed. While my health does not permit me to enjoy the liberties that you have been allowed, I am as keen an observer as anyone. Your attentions to my cousin have mortified me.”

Here Lady Catherine rose and began to take a turn about the perimeter of the room. I felt like a mouse being toyed with by two large cats, and there seemed to be no means of escape. I was their prey, and these two expert huntresses were taking their time before going in for the kill.

“I do not know who your mother is, but I am certain that any reasonable woman would be ashamed to see her daughter throwing herself at an engaged man in the way that you have. You debase yourself and the name of Bennet by your actions Eliza. You are a disgrace to dear Mr Collins, and an embarrassment to be seen with. Women of the ton have been ruined for less than you have done.”

Here I could not stay silent. I would not be abused in such a way by Miss de Bourgh without some form of retaliation.

“Pray Miss de Bourgh, what exactly am I supposed to have done?” My words may have been civil, I did not after all wish to sink to her level, but you may be assured that my tone was full of anger and defiance. “For I have stood here for half an hour listening to your insults and your accusations without being informed what it is that I am being held guilty of.”

“Do not pretend to be coy with me girl,” snapped Miss de Bourgh, her temper flaring at my reasonable question. “You know what you have been about. I would not hesitate for a minute to believe that you came to visit your friend only because you knew that Mr Darcy would be here at the same time. Since the moment he arrived, you have been flaunting yourself in front of him, trying to steal him away from the bosom of his family and the love that we share.”

“If Mr Darcy does love you and there is, as you claim, an engagement of long standing between the two of you, then I fail to see why you see my brief presence here as such a threat.” My tongue was loosed, I would no longer take her insults in silence. “Unless perhaps there is no engagement. I have never heard Mr Darcy or any of his friends speak of it. The only man from whom I ever heard of it before I came here was not someone who professed any friendship with Mr Darcy. Rest assured Miss de Bourgh, since long before I came to Kent, I can safely say that Mr Darcy is the last man in the world who I could have been prevailed upon to marry.”

“An unlikely statement Miss Bennet,” cried Lady Catherine. “We have seen the way you look at him, how he looks at you. And do not think us ignorant of the position of your family. You will all be homeless the moment your father dies. I dare say that your mother has sent you here with the intention of securing a rich husband.”

“If it were not so, why would you convince my cousin to introduce you to his friends? He has never taken my mother and I, nor has he ever brought the Saxby's here. You however, were instantly granted an invitation. Mrs Collins would not have received such favour alone. Only your own powers of manipulation could have convinced him to behave thus,” concluded Miss de Bourgh, who paused and looked at me as though I were dirt on her shoe before adding, “Unless you do not wish to marry my cousin because you feel that there is enough to be gained from being his mistress.”

Had any of my acquaintances in Hertfordshire made such an utterance, I believe they would have felt the back of my hand against their face. As it was, even through my anger I knew that my strength would have overwhelmed the pathetic creature in front of me.

“But I believe that I have already informed you that I will not tolerate such behaviour from my husband Miss Bennet. Mr Darcy will remain true to his wedding vows, and you will be forgotten as the cheap hussy that you are.”

“I believe you have said everything that you can have wished to. I will only add that your ridiculous assumptions and accusations are astonishing to me. May I suggest that you have your banns published that the engagement between you and your cousin may be made public as soon as possible. Unless of course there is no engagement except in your imagination Miss de Bourgh. In which case I believe you need to speak candidly to your cousin regarding his intentions. Good day to you.”

With that, I turned on my heel and left the room. As I continued on my way out of the house, throwing my coat on as I went, I saw Mr Darcy making his way up the driveway on horseback. Feeling a rush of anger towards him for his continued poor behaviour towards myself and, if I was to be fair, his cousin, I strode purposefully in the opposite direction, hoping that he had not noticed me exiting his aunt's house.

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