Beginning, Section 2, Next Section

Chapter 6

I was not to be so fortunate.

“Miss Bennet,” he cried, spurring his horse on so that he caught up with me. “Good God, what is the matter?”

His cry of alarm drew my attention to the tears that fell onto my cheeks. In seconds he was off his horse, taking my arm and leading me back towards the house.

“Please, you cannot leave in this state. Let me assist you back to Rosings.”

“No!” I pleaded. “Really Mr Darcy, I beg you to allow me to leave.”

“What has happened Miss Elizabeth? Someone has harmed you and I beg you to tell me who. They will not go unpunished for their actions.”

By this time we were beginning to ascend the steps to the main entrance to Rosings. I froze as I realised where I was and the impossibility of re-entering that terrible place. Mr Darcy however had other ideas, and continued to lead me forwards. My heart rate slowed as I felt his arm under my hand, a feeling I was later able to identify as comfort seeped into me. With something like composure, I stopped walking and turned to him.

“Thank you for your kind attentions to me Mr Darcy, but I must ask you to allow me to return to the parsonage.”

“Lord spare us!” Lady Catherine screeched from the doorway, her stick pointing viciously at her nephew and I. “Are you entirely without decency Miss Bennet? Nephew, remove yourself from that woman's presence immediately and come into the house. You may send your cousin to see me Miss Bennet.”

She turned and walked back into the house, a storm of silk and lace. Mr Darcy was by no means a stupid man, it seemed that he was able to guess in a moment much of what had passed between his relatives and me that afternoon. Taking my arm again, he marched after his aunt, ignoring my protests and attempts to free myself. I wished fervently to be back in the safety of the parsonage. Even a fortnight in Mr Collins' sole company would have been a welcome alternative to the situation I now found myself in.

“Aunt, Anne, ” Mr Darcy greeted them, his tone clipped and reserved. “Would someone like to tell me what has occurred here this afternoon to leave Miss Bennet in this state?”

Do not say anything, I wanted to shout. Do not involve him in this. You will expose us all to ridicule.

“It is quite simple Darcy,” replied Lady Catherine dismissively. “Miss Bennet was summoned here to apologise to your cousin for her actions, but she has refused to do so.”

“I do not have the privilege of understanding you Madam,” replied her nephew in a guarded manner. “Has Miss Bennet so offended you Anne?”

“I am afraid she has cousin, but you need not concern yourself with our affairs.”

Before he had a chance to respond, Lady Catherine again addressed me directly, somehow managing to ignore her nephew, though how she managed it I cannot say, for he stood in the middle of the room with a look on his face that would have scared the devil himself. “Well, Miss, now what do you have to say for yourself?”

My anger and humiliation roused me and boosted my courage. I looked up and met her eye. “I do not have anything to say to you Lady Catherine. I am sorry to disappoint you, but other than that I do not feel that I owe you or your daughter any form of apology, and I will not give one that I do not deem necessary merely to please you. I beg to be excused.”

“Not so hasty,” cried Lady Catherine. “There is one thing which I insist upon having confirmed before you leave this house.” Turning to her nephew she took her daughter's clammy looking hand in hers and continued, ”Darcy, you have prevaricated on this issue long enough. It is time for you to stop enjoying the smiles and indulgences of pretty women in favour of settling down with a wife who is worthy of you. In view of recent events, I would have you write to the newspapers this very day with news of your engagement.”

At this statement, Miss de Bourgh focused her gaze not on her intended, but on me, with a smug sneer of achievement on her mousey little face. I had never before disliked a woman of my age so intensely. Even her poor health was not sufficient to engage my pity. I followed her eyes when they shifted to Mr Darcy, her expression softening into something that she presumably thought endearing.

Her cousin stood immobilised in the middle of the room. As if he suddenly felt the weight of everyone's gaze upon him, he turned and walked to the window. In the midst of my agony I was cognizant of this reminder of Mr Darcy's behaviour during his time in Hertfordshire.

“Well Darcy?” demanded Lady Catherine. “What say you?”

“Come Fitz,” cooed Miss de Bourgh in a painful attempt at seduction, “Society has had its share of you, but, like mother and I, you have found it to be wanting. It is in the company of your family that you are content. The joining of the de Bourgh and Darcy estates will be a great moment in our history, our ancestors will smile upon us the day we wed. Let it be soon, that the ladies of the ton will no longer plague you with their attentions. You know that marriage is the only way to escape their machinations and attempts to entrap you.”

Still it seemed that Mr Darcy was not about to speak. Part of me longed to escape the room while the attention of the ladies was focused on him. Yet another, more curious part of me desired to hear his answer and observe his reaction to his objectionable relatives.

“I am sorry Anne,” he finally began, “but I cannot marry you. I have never wished it so, and I do not believe it would be right for us to wed.”

“But Fitz,” she spoke in disbelief, “this has always been the hope of our whole family. It is our duty to marry.”

“No cousin,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “It has always been your mother's hope. It has never been mine, nor do I believe that it is shared by our other aunts and uncles. Is this really what you want Anne? Really?”

“Yes,” she screamed with more energy than I ever expected her of possessing. “It's all I've ever wanted. To leave here and live at Pemberley, to take my place in society, to run my own household.”

By this time, Mr Darcy was knelt in front of Anne, in the same position that Lady Catherine wished him to adopt just a moment ago. Yet now the words they were exchanging were not those of a proposal. I was transfixed, unable to leave even though I knew that I should not be witnessing this.

“Anne, oh Anne, marrying me would not give you back your health. You are welcome at Pemberley any time, but you will never come there as my wife. It would not be right.”

“Why Fitzwilliam?” she demanded, apparently not consoled by his honest words. “Because of her? You would rather take that nobody as your wife? You think that she would make a worthy mistress of your home?” she shrieked, pointing at me. Oh how I wished I had left when they were talking before.

“Cousin, you will not speak to Miss Bennet in that way,” said Mr Darcy, turning and addressing himself to me and resolutely ignoring Anne's continuing outburst. “I apologise Miss Bennet. I only wish I had listened before when you asked me not to bring you here. Would you allow me to call my carriage to take you back to the parsonage?”

“I find I would rather walk Mr Darcy.”

“Then may I escort you?”

“No. Thank you. I believe you need to speak with your cousin and aunt.”

“Yes, I believe you are correct. Perhaps you would be so kind as to pay my compliments to Mr and Mrs Collins and inform your friend that I hope to call on you tomorrow.”

I could not think of a reply, unsure as to whether or not I ever wished to see any member of this complicated family again. Quietly bidding him good day, I curtsied and left, choosing not to speak to either of the ladies.

I walked quickly away from the house, keen to put as much distance between myself and the de Bourgh family as possible. It had been over an hour since I had left Charlotte and I knew that she would be expecting me home shortly. In my current state though I knew that I was not fit to be seen and it was imperative that I regained control of my emotions before meeting my cousin again.

Finding a path that I believed would take me home by a long route, I slowed my pace, allowing my tears to fall quietly while no-one could see me. Lady Catherine's words and insults had hurt me more than I cared to admit. What spiteful, ill-bred women they were. They seemed to be the only ones making a play for Mr Darcy. I examined again my behaviour towards that man. I could find nothing to criticise, except that I had perhaps misjudged him on first appearances. Not that that was entirely my fault.

Mr Wickham's story came back to me. Agitated as I was, it did not take long for my anger to flare up against Mr Darcy. The confusion I felt about his character was enough to infuriate me, I was not used to troubling over a person's nature. Yet here was a man who I could not understand at all. Indeed his own relatives did not appear to know him any better, and they had known him their whole lives.

Oh bothersome, infuriating family! If Charlotte's future had not depended on their will I would have loved to have told them what I really thought of them, yet I was as good as gagged in front of them. My memory conjured up a picture of Anne de Bourgh's sneering, pale face. I remembered her mother circling me as I stood in their stuffy drawing room. Even through my tears I could not stifle a laugh. They truly were ridiculous. As if I could win Mr Darcy's affections if he had decided to bestow them elsewhere. The idea was farcical. The more I thought on it the more outrageous the whole affair seemed. If only I could tell Charlotte what a laugh we would both have.

But as things stood I knew that I could not tell Charlotte. She would not stand by while I was insulted, but risked everything if she spoke out. I resolved not to be the one to tell her. If Lady Catherine chose to my cousin then that was her own business. I would tell Charlotte simply that Lady Catherine had wished to ask me to refrain from associating with Mr Darcy, and that in the course of our conversations I had learned that the two cousins were not yet engaged. I just hoped that she would choose to believe me.

Stopping in the garden to wash my hands and face under the pump, I adjusted my dress and took a moment to compose myself. I smiled again as I recalled my earlier feeling of fondness for Mr Collins' company. At least I could take that positive thought from my distressing afternoon!

Chapter 7

The following evening was a hardship to all of us at the parsonage. Both my friend and her husband were respectful enough not to ask me what had occurred at Rosings. Whether or not Charlotte had chosen to forbid Mr Collins from speaking to me about my interview I still do not know. In either case, the atmosphere in the cottage was suitably strained that it was a relief to everyone when I bid them an early goodnight.

My cousin made a habit of not working on Saturday mornings. Instead he liked to potter in his garden, working up a distressingly unattractive sweat even in the mild warmth of the spring, greeting everyone who passed by. And so it was that he saw Mr Darcy approaching long before he reached the gate of the parsonage. Since he came on foot, Mr Collins' hastily shouted announcement of his impending arrival gave Charlotte and I suitable time to prepare ourselves. In truth, I had not doubted that he would visit us today as he had promised the day before, but that did nothing to decrease my anxiety at seeing him again.

Charlotte had proved herself a great friend to me many times in the course of our long intimacy. There was no-one I trusted more to chaperone me during this visit, and wordlessly I put my faith in her to help me survive the trial I was about to face. Without having to ask a single question, I knew that she understood something of the torment that my mind was going through, for while my friend may not have shared my sentiments on many matters, she still possessed an innate ability to know what I was thinking.

When My Darcy finally made his entrance into her sitting room, it was thus no surprise to me to see her greet him with cold civility, so different from her previous reception of him. Her fierce loyalty swelled my heart, but had the strange result of making me desire to smile at Mr Darcy to reassure him of his welcome. Upon catching his eye, I immediately flushed and looked away, finding myself unsure as to whether or not I wished for Charlotte to excuse herself, that I might speak to him alone. What was clear to me was that even though I was still angry with him, I found that his presence brought me a peace I had not known since leaving Rosings the day before. Scolding myself for what I considered to be weakness, I spent the first few minutes of his visit reminding myself of the many reasons I had to dislike him.

Thus occupied, I spared little attention for the conversation he was having with Charlotte. No doubt it was full of the empty pleasantries that are often shared when one pays visits to people one barely knows. Yet it was well known that Mr Darcy had little time for idle chit-chat. Attending more to their discussion, I was surprised to find him speaking of his sister. He had, apparently, taken Charlotte's advice to heart and had written to Miss Darcy to suggest that she might like to visit one of the families who lived on a neighbouring estate.

Clearly not expecting her suggestion to have been acted on so swiftly, Charlotte could not maintain her resentment of him and praised Mr Darcy for taking such a step. He looked abashed at her words, quickly turning to me to ask if I had heard anything from my own sisters since arriving in Kent. Despite not yet feeling ready to speak to him, I had no choice but to respond to a direct question.

“I received a letter from Jane a few days ago,” was my short reply.

“I hope Miss Bennet is well,” he prompted.

I wanted to reply that she was not, that she was heart broken and it was his tease of a friend who had left her so. However before I could formulate a more acceptable answer, Charlotte spoke up for me.

“I believe that Jane is in good health, but perhaps the same is not to be said for her spirits.”

I was shocked that she would make such a revelation to our guest. Glancing up, I saw that Mr Darcy too was somewhat surprised by her frank confession.

“I am sorry to hear that,” he said hesitantly.

“Thank you,” said Charlotte, genteelly sipping her tea. “I must confess, I am a little surprised to hear that she has still not been visited by Miss Bingley. Jane called on her once but has not seen her friend again. I am sure that renewing their acquaintance would go a great way towards restoring Jane's happy nature.”

Whatever Mr Darcy's reaction to this latest statement was, I could not say as my attention was entirely upon my friend. This was no slip of the tongue, Charlotte was deliberately informing Mr Darcy of my sister's heartbreak, apparently feeling the need to amend for the encouragement she had just given him. She returned my questioning gaze with a look of total innocence – the same look she and I gave to our parents when we were in trouble as children.

“But then,” she continued, “London is a big place, is it not Mr Darcy? No doubt Miss Bingley has many acquaintances to keep her busy. Would you like another cup of tea sir?”

Charlotte's words shocked me. It was most unlike her to speak so, especially in front of a relative stranger. Her implied meaning was all too obvious, but really, this did not seem like the time or place to raise the matter. My sister's relationship with Mr Bingley was a thing of the past, while my own struggles with Mr Darcy and his family were only too present.

By the time I had recovered from the shock of Charlotte's words, she had again effortlessly changed the subject and was commenting on how much Thomas Saxby must be enjoying the windy weather lately. Her guest forced a smile at that, agreeing with her and seemingly as relieved as I was that we were no longer speaking of Jane and his friend.

Shortly after, a parishioner came to the door and requested to speak to Charlotte. I found myself alone with Mr Darcy, who immediately rose and walked to the window, his hands held behind his back where I could see them. Watching from the corner of my eye, I was amused to see him twisting them, fidgeting with the ring on his left hand. Obviously he was as uncomfortable with our situation as I was.

“Miss Bennet,” he began, walking back to take a seat closer to me.

I held up a hand to stop him.

“Please, I must apologise for Mrs Collins'. She is only seeking to protect me, although she knows not why. I have not told her anything of what occurred yesterday.”

“I hope that you have not withheld that information for my sake Miss Bennet. If you wish to make your friend your confidant you have my blessing. Not that you need it,” he quickly added.

“No, I do not, but thank you all the same. Charlotte's position in life is temporarily entirely dependent on the goodwill of Lady Catherine though, and I would not wish to make things harder for her. Maybe one day when we are old I will tell her, and no doubt we will have a great laugh at your aunt's expense, but for now I shall not be the one to speak of it.”

“You are a loyal friend.”

“As is she sir. She would not have spoken so of Jane otherwise.”

“Your sister suffers Miss Bennet?” His question was clearly an invitation for the truth. I decided to be frank with him, after all I reasoned, this might be my only opportunity to help Jane see Bingley again.

“She was heartbroken when Mr Bingley quit Netherfield sir.”

Mr Darcy sat up a little straighter at that. Passing his hand over his mouth he looked directly at me, a deeply thoughtful look on his face.

“It is funny. Bingley has not been himself since that day either.”

I did not think it funny at all. Voicing my thoughts aloud, I asked why he did not return to Netherfield then, or better yet, visit my sister in London. My companion stood and walked to the fireplace.

“She loves him?” he finally asked.

Today was, apparently, a day for honesty. Never had I spoken of the feelings of another in this way. Even as I answered him, I hoped that Jane would forgive me for exposing her so.

He made no further comment, and for a time was silent, standing immobile beside the chimney breast until Charlotte re-entered the room. She stood for a moment, seemingly assessing the situation she found us in, before addressing me.

“I hope you will forgive me Lizzy, but I must go to visit a sickly neighbour. There is no need to be alarmed, she just needs a little female company. Perhaps you might be kind enough to walk into town for me and collect a few items that I ordered from Mr Grayson.”

My friend certainly seemed to be in a manipulative mood that day. First revealing Jane's heartache to Mr Darcy, now all but sending the two of us out on an unchaperoned walk. I glared at her, conscious of my gratitude to her for offering me an opportunity to talk to the gentleman, but none too pleased by her less than subtle interference. Still, I reasoned, a walk did sound like a tempting idea, and should Mr Darcy chose to accompany me or not, I would enjoy it. The prerogative was his. I would not ask, but neither would I refuse his company.

His request was swiftly made and accepted, and so, Mr Darcy and I set off on the road to Hunsford.

I resolved not to be the first to speak. I knew not how to raise the topic of his relatives' behaviour, and did not trust myself to speak without betraying the hurt and anger I still felt. Given his taciturn nature however, I was beginning to think that our entire walk would be spent in silence until, at length, he addressed me thus.

“Miss Bennet, I am most pleased to find you well after the unpleasantness of yesterday. I hope you will accept my apology for the behaviour of my relations.”

His words did nothing to calm my sensibilities. On his own behalf, he apparently did not feel the need to apologise.

“I thank you sir, but I find that I cannot allow you to ask my forgiveness for the behaviour of others. For your own behaviour alone can I forgive you, but of that you have said nothing.” It was an unkind thing to say, but I felt that I had been the victim of enough cruel words over the last few days. He hesitated a few moments before replying.

“No lady should ever have been forced to listen to the abuse you suffered at the hands of my own family. I am truly ashamed of them for their treatment of you and have told them so.”

He seemed to think that was sufficient. I took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at my companion as I sought to steady my nerves before replying.

“Miss Bennet?” he asked, no doubt perceiving my dissatisfaction with his answer. “I believe I have said something which had upset you. Pray tell me that I might have a chance to defend myself.”

That threw me into an even greater rage. “And why, Mr Darcy, should you be afforded the chance to defend yourself when I was offered no such chance yesterday? When you threw me into the lion's pit without any weapon with which to defend myself.” Here he tried to interrupt me but my tongue had finally been loosened and I had much more to say. “Perhaps it did not occur to you, sir, but the only reason I refrained from telling your aunt and cousin exactly what I thought of them was the presence of my poor Charlotte in Hunsford. If not for her, then your relatives would be suffering from a severe case of the truth right now.

“And the fact is Mr Darcy, that this whole situation could have been avoided but for your poor behaviour towards your cousin. If you had acted as a gentleman and told her years ago that you had no intention of marrying her, rather than letting her grow up with the belief that she was to be your wife, then none of this would have occurred and all would be well.”

Utter silence fell between us as my anger flared. We had stopped walking and were facing each other across the narrow path. He was the first to turn away, kicking at stones with the toe of his boot as the impact of my words hit him. Not used to arguing with someone outside of my exuberant family, his lack of response left me unnerved. In my distress, I did the only thing I knew and continued speaking.

“You are used to being your own master, controlling all around you, but you have neglected to remember that a woman's heart cannot be ordered around like so many field hands. Your cousin suffers now because of your deceit, your aunt is, I suspect, devastated to have had her hopes for her daughter dashed so suddenly, and I have been accused of all manner of things by both of them. Yet all of this might have been prevented had you only spoken to Miss de Bourgh earlier.”

I finished, out of breath from my outburst. I could hear the blood gushing through my veins as I stood before him, anger blinding me to all else. His refusal to respond immediately, his proud struggle to maintain an air of dignity, infuriated me beyond all else. If only he could have been like Lydia or Kitty and shouted back I would have known how to proceed, but his silence unnerved me far more.

“So I am solely to blame for all that has occurred over the last few days. I thank you for setting me straight on this Miss Bennet,” he finally replied before offering me a small bow and walking away.

The blood boiled in my veins. Unthinkingly I shouted after him, “Mr Darcy you are acting like a child. I did not claim that it was entirely your fault, I merely suggested that while you could not apologise on your aunt's behalf, perhaps you might offer an apology on your own.” Catching up with him and meeting his hurt eyes I felt my anger melt away, only to be replaced by a desire to remain near to him. The sight of him angrily walking away from me had been terrible. “Please sir, you are my only friend here in Kent apart from Charlotte, and at the moment I find myself in great need of my friends.”

Another of his long pauses ensued. Truly he was a most difficult man to converse with sometimes. I couldn't help but smile as I compared my own verbose style of arguing with his haughty, silent manner of doing the same.

Whether he shared my thoughts or not, I was pleased to see him smile just a little in return.

“Very well Miss Bennet. It seems that I cannot help but be delighted at the prospect of being counted among your friends, although I must add that I am sure Emily Saxby would be hurt to have been forgotten so swiftly.”

We shared a smile at that. Much was still to be resolved between us, but it was a relief that we were talking at normal volume again. He offered me his arm, which I accepted as we resumed our walk. We got scarcely fifty paces before he stopped and turned to me again.

“Miss Elizabeth, I am used to being my own master, and there are few people in this world who would challenge me in any decision I ever chose to make. You are one of those few.”

I tried to speak, to tell him that I knew I had overstepped my place, but he held up a hand to halt my words.

“Please, I must say this. You were right to say that I should have spoken to my cousin earlier. In truth, and I am fully aware how terrible this sounds, I never expected that she would live this long. Every winter we have thought that she would not see the spring. When her life was already so tragic, her grip on this world so fragile, how could I increase her woes by ruining her dreams? Oh that is a poor excuse,” he berated himself, “Anne and I have been of age for many years. I should have told her, I should have spared us all the pain of yesterday.”

His confession moved me – for a man of so few words to reveal his heart so willingly was nothing short of astonishing. When he paused, I looked up and found him gazing down at me.

“Forgive me, Miss Bennet?” he asked in a gentle voice.

It took me many moments to find my voice. Unable to speak, I began to nod, finally able to verbally accept his stunning apology. If I had not known better, I would have been tempted to call Mr Darcy's request humble. As we again resumed our walk – we were nearly at the town now – I forced myself to review my attitude towards him.

His behaviour in Hertfordshire had definitely not been that of a gentleman. Yet since we had met again in Kent the only thing I could fault him for was his failure to tell his cousin the truth. Towards myself and Charlotte, he had been, well, charming. I would never have thought it possible! What had happened to make him such a changed man? It could not be the absence of Mr Bingley, for the friendship between those two men was clear. No doubt being away from Miss Bingley was a great relief to him, for her attentions to him in Hertfordshire had been noted with amusement by everyone. But a greater change than the mere absence of one difficult woman had occurred. I was intrigued as to what had happened since he had left Netherfield.

One question troubled me above all others: Mr Wickham's testimony against Mr Darcy. One of these gentlemen was lying to me. Mr Darcy could not be both the gentleman he now appeared and the vindictive tyrant that Mr Wickham had described. It was not a subject I could raise between us but I was anxious to know the truth of it.

By this time we had reached Hunsford. Mr Darcy waited on me as I collected Charlotte's goods. His attentiveness was a delight, and afterwards, as he walked me home again, we conversed more easily than ever before. He told me of his sister and his home, his library and his horses. My previously reserved companion spoke more in that half hour than in all our previous meetings. Truly, this was not the taciturn man I had danced with in Meryton.

Chapter 8

My companion left me at the gate to the parsonage. Tea was served promptly at Rosings at four o'clock every afternoon, and Mr Darcy was expected to attend. Glancing up at the house after he had taken his leave, I saw the curtains in my cousin's study twitch. Apparently I was being observed.

Grinning to myself at the possibilities for mischief which Mr Collins' new occupation presented, I walked up the path, thinking of many pleasurable ways of teasing the foolish reverend. I thought that next time both gentlemen were present I might manage to allow my hand to linger a little too long on Mr Darcy's arm when he escorted me into a room, then sit a little too close to him on the sofa and take care to play only his very favourite pieces on the pianoforte. Hesitantly I was able to admit to myself that all of these were actions I would willingly make, after all, Mr Darcy was becoming a good friend, and even when I did not like him I would have been lying if I had said that he was not one of the handsome men I had ever seen.

Occupied with thinking up schemes to scandalise my interfering cousin, I made my way back to Charlotte's parlour where my friend sat writing out a recipe in her housekeeping journal.

“Your friend was not so poorly that she could not share her favourite recipe for leek and potato soup with you then?” I enquired as I peered over her shoulder.

“Fortunately not Lizzy. It turns out that Mrs Clarke was unnecessarily alarmed at the news of Miss Fothergill's illness. I was pleased to find her almost back to full health when I arrived.”

Her ability to maintain an innocent tone of voice delighted me. It was good to find that, in essentials, my dear Charlotte had survived her marriage of convenience unaltered. “Really? How astonishing! I had thought it must be very urgent since you felt that you must leave Mr Darcy and I alone together.”

“Why ever should I not? You have after all made it clear that he is nothing more than a common and indifferent acquaintance of yours.”

I could have sworn that she winked at me with that last, but so swiftly did she again change the subject that I hardly had time to notice it. For two hours we talked and retold stories from our girlhoods, laughing again at the memory of overhearing John Wrigglesworth practising the proposal speech he intended to deliver to Victoria Bletchley, the most famous Hertfordshire beauty of the time, while hidden in the branches of his father's great apple tree. By the time Mr Collins came in to see what all the noise was about, tears streaked both of our cheeks and we gasped to catch our breath.

Looking at me reproachfully, he shook his head at our 'ability to laugh at such a time'. “For Lady de Bourgh is most disappointed in you, and has condescended to tell me so in no uncertain terms. 'Mr Collins,' these are her very words cousin, 'I am most thoroughly disappointed in Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She has proved herself to be a woman of very ill breeding indeed. To have come here and presumed to take the rightful place of my dear Anne, and to refuse to apologise for doing so displays such a lack of respect and appreciation for the rules of society that I cannot but be offended by her behaviour. I, who am celebrated for my adherence to all that is proper and well mannered, am astonished that a young woman of no standing or reputation should have the audacity to enter the great house of Rosings and treat me in such a manner. It will not be born Mr Collins. It will not be born.'

“Well, my dear Mrs Collins, you can imagine how I felt. To be the cause of such offence to so generous a woman, to be responsible for inviting our cousin here only for her to upset our humble patroness in such a way. I have promised Lady Catherine that Miss Elizabeth will trouble her no more. Perhaps,” he said in a lower tone that I believe I was not intended to hear but which I could not help but do since he whispered so very loudly, “it would be best if she were to return home rather sooner than planned?”

Since Mr Collins had chosen not to include me in his insulting conversation, I chose to let Charlotte answer without interruption. I was, it seemed, getting to be rather good at holding my tongue. Besides, I had witnessed many times already during my stay how artfully my friend handled her ridiculous husband and knew it to be for the best.

“Indeed my dear, I think perhaps not. After all, Lady Catherine and Lizzy need not come into contact other than at church on Sundays. And it does make me so happy to have her here. I am sure that we can find a way for her to stay without upsetting her Ladyship any more.” Seeing Mr Collins was about to reply, Charlotte hastily added, “I will speak to Lady Catherine myself tomorrow after the morning service. I am sure that I can convince her to change her mind.”

With that, she rose and attempted to guide Mr Collins out of the room with the suggestion that he might make an extra effort with his sermon, to appease her Ladyship and encourage her into a forgiving mood.

“Very well my dear, I shall,” he concurred, all the while drawing close to Charlotte and touching her hand in a way which made my stomach turn. “Perhaps it will give my cousin food for thought as well, for from what I have heard she has offered no apology to Lady Catherine for her shameful conduct.”

The continued slur on my character finally drew a response from me. “And what pray, must I apologise for Mr Collins?” I asked in a deeply sarcastic tone.

I was pleased to see that he had the grace to look a little abashed at my direct question. “Why, for upsetting Lady Catherine and her daughter of course.”

“And did her Ladyship happen to mention what it was that I had done to upset them?”

“She did not enter into any particulars cousin, she is far too discreet and well bred a lady to do such a thing. But even though she sought nobly to disguise it, I could tell from her altered countenance that she was much distressed by your behaviour.”

“You take her side then? Over your own kin you choose to side with Lady Catherine, when she has told you nothing of the circumstances or events of the past few days? Without even talking to me, you believe her?”

“Cousin Elizabeth, you must see how it looks to me. You sit here laughing as though nothing in the world is wrong, while Lady Catherine sits offended and hurt by your behaviour. I flatter myself that any unbiased observer would draw the same conclusion as I.”

Here Charlotte stepped in to halt our argument. Drawing her husband to one side she spoke quietly with him, assuring him that another explanation was possible and that, since they did not have all the facts, perhaps the best action would be not to draw any conclusions at all at that time, but rather to hold out the olive branch of peace to both his patroness and myself.

Thus saying, she all but pushed Mr Collins out of the door and shut it firmly behind him.

“Lizzy,” she said, turning to me, “I do not ask you to share what has occurred over the last few days, but I do wish for you to know that I will do all in my power to protect you. If I can help you in any way, if you wish to talk to me of anything then I am ready to listen. However, I must also be seen to be a good wife to Mr Collins. Do not scoff at me. I know what you think of him but I am happy in my life here. I chose to marry him and now I must conduct myself accordingly.”

“And I am full of admiration for you,” I replied warmly. “I believe I am beginning to understand your motivation for accepting him. I will not burden you with all that has happened, but will say only this. Since meeting him again in Kent, I have been intrigued by Mr Darcy's changed character.” Seeing the knowing smile on my friend's face I hurried to add, “Do not believe me to be in love with him. Indeed, if I thought myself in danger of being so I would hasten to leave Kent immediately, for a man such as him would never consider a nobody like me for a bride. But I do wish to stay and see if we might be friends. Even if that does mean seeing the delightful Lady Catherine de Bourgh on occasion.”

Charlotte laughed at that, and wisely said no more on the subject.

Dinner that night was a quiet affair. Mr Collins, it seemed, possessed the unenviable talent of sulking like a child – or perhaps like Lydia would be a better way of putting it. Bearing Charlotte's comments about desiring to be a good wife in mind, I spoke little during the meal, preferring silence to another argument, for I was growing tired of always disagreeing with people.

After our meal, we all sat together listening to Mr Collins rehearse his sermon while Charlotte and I worked on a pile of garments from her mending box. Her ability to guide and influence her husband without his noticing it once again astounded me, and I praised God that the people of Hunsford had at least one wise person residing in their parsonage.

The next day being Sunday, it was unavoidable that Lady Catherine and I should see each other at church. To lessen the danger of such an encounter, I walked to church alone, aiming to arrive just as the service started that I might not have to face the de Bourgh's twice. I was therefore surprised when I rounded the corner by the church to find Mr Darcy still outside, apparently waiting for me before joining his aunt in the family pew.

“Miss Bennet,” he greeted me with a bow. “I had hoped to see you this morning.”

“You are in luck then sir, for it is Sunday and all good Christians must go to church.” He smiled at that, and a look of relief spread over his face.

“I had feared that perhaps my aunt's abuse of you would force you to stay away. I am glad that it did not,” he added, looking directly into my eyes as he did so.

Turning my head to avoid his gaze, I sought a witty reply to break the sudden tension but found my mind entirely blank.

“The service is about to begin sir,” was my eventual response. “It would be best I think if you went in. Your aunt would not be pleased if you were late.”

“My aunt has not been pleased by anything these last two days Miss Bennet, but you are as ever correct. You will follow me inside in a moment or two?”

“I shall walk around the church yard once or twice so that your aunt will not be suspicious of our having met. How did you explain your need to remain here in the first place?”

In lieu of answering my question directly, Mr Darcy smiled knowingly. Gently taking my arm, he led me to the gate that led from the church yard to the road. Pointing to a rather large and muddy looking puddle he explained that he had made sure to step in it when descending from his aunt's carriage, knowing that she would insist that he cleaned his boots before allowing him to enter the church.

“That was most devious of you sir,” I added, grinning at his conspiracy to defy his aunt.

“I will admit that it was a little deceitful. I hope you do not disapprove?”

His voice had dropped, lending an intimate and unfamiliar air to our conversation. Inexplicably I felt myself blush under his gaze. I do not know what would have happened next had not the sound of the organ summoned us to attention.

Taking my hand in his, he spoke quickly. “I must go in. My aunt will be furious with me already.” Rather than leave as I expected him to he continued, “I must go to London for two days to deal with some urgent matters of business. I hope to return late on Tuesday. May I call on you on Wednesday?”

Astonished by the rapidity with which he spoke and the sensation of his hand surrounding mine, I do not know how long it took me to answer but eventually I managed to communicate to him that I had heard his speech and would welcome his visit midweek.

“Godspeed,” I wished him in a mere whisper as he raised my hand to his lips and bestowed upon it the swiftest and lightest of kisses. No sooner than that he released my hand and hurried into the church, leaving me alone and not a little bewildered by the blessed puddle in the road.

Lady Catherine and I met with barely concealed hostility at the end of the service. As was her due in respect to her rank, I curtsied in acknowledgement as she passed me, and as expected, she ignored me and spoke only to Charlotte. Mr Darcy stood by her, his face betraying nothing but rather reverting to the blank expression he habitually wore in Hertfordshire. This time though I was aware of his inner thoughts and could only be impressed by the sense of family loyalty that kept him by his aunt's side. She was, after all, one his of closest relations.

Feeling his eyes upon me, I found my gaze being drawn to his, and for a moment I lost myself in his look. I knew in that moment that I had lied to Charlotte, that I was indeed in great danger of falling in love with Mr Darcy. The fullness of my silent admission overtook me, and I felt a hot blush spread over my cheeks as I forced myself to look away from him. His gaze was still on me as I turned away, but not until I heard the de Bourgh party enter their carriage did I dare raise my eyes to him again. Still he looked at me, even as he handed his cousin into the coach. As I beheld him, his strong body and handsome face stirred me, and I could not but bestow a smile on the man I loved. It was, I do not doubt, a smile of some sadness, for I knew that he was going away, and that I could never marry him anyway, but nonetheless I was cheered to receive a smile of such delight from him in return that my heart sang at the sight of it.

Holding me in his gaze, he offered me the merest of bows before turning to follow his relations into the carriage. As they drew away, I heard Lady Catherine's voice but cannot tell you what she said. All of my attention was on him, and only when the coach rounded the corner did we cease beholding each other.

I stood as one enchanted until Charlotte gently touched my arm to recall me to my surroundings. How much of my silent interaction with Mr Darcy she had observed I do not know, but the sparkle in her eye was sufficient for me to know that she had seen enough.

“Come Lizzy,” she said gently. “The Hamptons have invited us to lunch. But afterwards I am keen to learn what is happening between you and your Mr Darcy!”

Our lunch companions were a charming family, and for a time the children's chatter distracted me from thoughts of Mr Darcy. But as soon as we left and began to leisurely stroll home, my mind was free to ponder the meaning of the look we had exchanged that morning.

I knew that I had to talk myself out of falling in love with him. That developing feelings of that nature for a man of his standing could only bring heartache, but the image of his smile seemed branded into my consciousness, such that I could not keep myself from reliving the moment over and over again. A small voice in my heart shouted that he loved me too, that Charlotte had been right all along and that there was hope. But in my rational mind I knew that there could be no future for us, that - much as I hated to admit it - Lady Catherine was correct and I was beneath him.

But still I could not shake the sight of him gazing at me to the exclusion of all else from my mind, and I knew that I could not win over my heart so easily.

That evening, as Mr Collins sat in his study composing a letter to the bishop detailing his arguments in favour of redesigning the inside of Hunsford church so that the de Bourgh pew might be enlarged for Lady Catherine's comfort and to the glory of God, Charlotte and I sat in her rooms. My good friend listened quietly as I poured out all of my feelings for Mr Darcy, telling her of my anger and confusion, my love and my fears.

“I still do not know what to make of him. He is so changed now to how he was in Hertfordshire that I could believe him to be an altogether different person if I did not know otherwise. When I was at home, I believed Mr Wickham's story about him implicitly, but I see now the folly in doing so. Yet I cannot simply disregard it purely because Mr Darcy is now more kind in his attentions. I do not know what to make of him Charlotte.”

“Oh Lizzy,” Charlotte sighed, reaching out to take my hand as tears gathered in my eyes. “From what you have told me, and if, as I suspect, Mr Darcy is not guilty of the terrible accusations which have been made against him, then I believe that he would not refuse to tell you were you to ask him for the truth of it. That is, I am very much of the opinion that Mr Darcy is very much in love with you and in that case would withhold from you nothing that it is in his power to give you.”

Such romanticism from my practical friend banished my tears and replaced them immediately with a smile. After listening to a little more of her advice and a good deal more teasing about how I should now have to leave Kent immediately, I retired to my chamber, as yet unconvinced of Mr Darcy's affections for me, but determined to think on him as little as possible until his return on Wednesday.

That I would see him the night of his return, and under such dramatic circumstances, I could never have imagined.

Chapter 9

The next two days would have passed quietly had it not been for Mr Collins' irrepressible need to remind me of Lady Catherine's suffering. Dear Charlotte mediated between us as much as possible, greatly lessening my frustration with my cousin for his misplaced and misguided loyalty. Spring showers kept us mainly indoors, but luckily I had brought several volumes from my father's library with me, so I passed the time quite pleasantly absorbed in those.

It was well into the evening on Tuesday when we sat down to a late supper. No sooner had we done so than a great banging commenced on the front door of the parsonage. Startled, Mr Collins hastened to open it. For once, no-one minded his spilt wine glass as he knocked the table in his hurry to answer the door. Charlotte and I followed close behind him, equally anxious to discover the cause of the commotion.

The door opened to reveal one of the young grooms from Rosings, but even before he began to speak we knew what had caused his panic.

Smoke billowed from the east wing of the great house. Above the usual quiet sounds of a spring evening the flames hissed and crackled, sending great sparks into the air which would have been visible for miles around.

“Please sir, Lady Catherine demands that you come at once,” panted the out of breath boy.

“Of course, of course,” shouted Mr Collins, grabbing his hat and rushing out of the house without a thought.

Watching him go with a disappointed shake of her head, Charlotte beckoned the young man inside and sat him down at her dining table with a glass of water to drink. Quickly, she began issuing directions to her two maids and myself. In very little time we had gathered a large pile of blankets, soothing ointments and herbs to take with us to Rosings and were on our way, wearing our warmest cloaks as we had no idea of when we might return to the cottage.

As we walked along as fast as our burdens permitted, Charlotte encouraged us all to share any knowledge that we possessed about the best way to treat burns and coughs caused by fire. Although only one of the five of us, for the groom accompanied us back, had ever witnessed a great blaze before, by the time we arrived at the scene of the fire I felt like I had gained sufficient knowledge to be of some use. Charlotte allotted her more experienced maid and herself to deal with the more seriously injured, instructing myself and Molly, her other maid, to look after other people who had been affected by the fire.

Although the family at Rosings consisted of just Lady Catherine and Miss Anne, the house still maintained a staff of nearly forty people, so that when we arrived we found the lawn in front of the house filled with frantic activity. In the middle of it all stood Lady Catherine and my sycophantic cousin. At a glance I could see that neither of them had taken charge of the situation, and never had I longed for the return of a certain rationally minded gentleman more.

Our party hurried over to Lady Catherine, Charlotte immediately going to that regal lady's aid and draping a warm blanket around her shivering shoulders.

“Lady Catherine, what a relief it is to find you unharmed! But where is Miss de Bourgh? I do not see her anywhere?”

“Oh Mrs Collins,” wailed Lady Catherine. “She remains in the house. None of these fools have been able to reach her. They should be proud to risk their lives for her sake, but none of them will try.”

We gasped upon realising that Miss de Bourgh was trapped in the house, for once able to sympathise with Lady Catherine's arrogance. What mother could remain rational in the face of such tragedy?

“And where is my nephew? He said he would be back by this evening, but there is still no sign of him.”

“Has anyone been sent to meet him?” I could not help but ask.

“All hands are needed here,” replied Mr Collins in an unnecessarily haughty tone. His hands, I could not help but notice, were apparently not required to help in the bucket line.

“But if someone could intercept him on the road, he could be told of the problem and would be able to get here sooner. There must be someone who could go?”

A man who had just approached us stepped forward.

“If you please Miss, young Charles Greening has a bad arm that means he cannot carry water. He is desperate to help but no-one has been able to find him a job. He's not yet ten but he rides well and knows the roads. He'll be pleased to go for Mr Darcy.”

We all looked to Lady Catherine for an answer. Seeing her still shaking with distress, Charlotte stepped in and asked the man – who turned out to be the head footman - to do as he had suggested. He returned quickly from his errand to report on the progress of the fire. It was spreading quickly, over half the house was now ablaze, and still no-one had been able to locate Miss de Bourgh. Lady Catherine flew into an even greater panic at the terrible news, with the unfortunate assistance of Mr Collins who seemed to be doing everything in his power to make the situation worse.

Charlotte again took charge and pulled her husband away, hissing at him to make himself useful and join the bucket line. Finding that no-one else dared to comfort Lady Catherine, she next found the housekeeper and instructed her to keep an eye on her mistress, while Charlotte, her maids and I sought the wounded that we might offer them some help.

As I observed the chaotic flustering of the servants and the newly arrived townspeople, I prayed to God that Mr Darcy might arrive soon for I was certain that he, more than anyone else I knew, would be able to bring order to the situation. Equally, I found, I needed to know that he was safe, that even though I knew him to be far away from the deadly flames that consumed Rosings, deep down I simply needed to see that he was alive and well.

Forcing myself to focus on the immediate situation, I followed Charlotte to the stables where we were able to arrange our meager supplies on a table. Molly was sent out to tell people to bring the wounded to us and to request help from any local women who might have skills or supplies that they could offer. A small queue of people soon arrived, and we busily began to tend them, treating the most badly injured first.

I had always prided myself on having never fainted, but I must confess that I came close to it that evening. In the failing light, as I squinted to see the wounds which people showed me, I encountered such terrible burns as I have never, thank the Lord, seen again. Blisters and thick black soot covered many people, several of whom were so badly affected that there was nothing we could do for them. One young man's face I shall never forget, as he lay on a stretcher in front of me, holding my hand as his eyes, dimmed with pain, closed for the final time.

Choking back my tears, for there were more victims in need of my care, I carried on, leaving two other men with only minor burns to wrap their fellow servant in an old sheet.

It probably took less than an hour for us to tend to the initial group of wounded. From them I learned that the fire had apparently broken out in three places simultaneously – the great kitchen below stairs, the ballroom and the picture gallery on the first floor. At first I did not believe the stories, but so many people repeated them that I finally did not know what to think. When I asked one man what he had seen of the blaze, he described seeing two men he did not recognise on the stairs as he fled from the blaze.

Instantly a terrified look of guilt overspread his face as he realised that these were no doubt the men responsible for the fire. In vain I tried to reassure him that no-one could possibly blame him for not challenging the men when his own safety was at such grave risk. Instead, I begged him to focus on remembering all that he could about the intruders, that he might tell Mr Darcy when he finally arrived.

Seeing that the wounded had all been taken care of, and anxious to be of some help, I walked out of the stables and back towards the house. There I found Lady Catherine wandering aimlessly, without any sign of the housekeeper nearby.

“Please, Lady Catherine,” I said as gently as I could, “Won't you allow me to take you to the parsonage? It is becoming cold and it would be best for you to be indoors and away from all this smoke.”

“Anne, oh my dear Anne,” was the only reply I got.

Seeing that I had not the time to take her all the way to the parsonage, a walk of some twenty minutes when one strolled briskly, I looked quickly about me and spied the family carriage halfway down the drive. Someone had apparently had the good sense to move it out of the coach house before the flames, which now engulfed the small building, had spread that far.

Leading the way, I was shocked to find the great Lady Catherine as compliant as a child. Without a sound, she allowed me to take her hand and together we walked slowly to the carriage. I opened the door and handed her in, tucking a second warm blanket around her legs as I did so. I felt a rush of tenderness towards her as I did so, for when those who set themselves upon pedestals fall, it is a long way to the ground. Lady Catherine had thought herself invincible, and the shock of her own mortality had come very suddenly.

Others needed my help, those in the bucket line had already been there for more than an hour and I knew I must help them. Not wanting to leave Lady Catherine alone, I found a woman who I recognised from one of my trips into Hunsford and asked if she would be so good as to sit with her. At first the woman hesitated, not wanting to risk incurring the wrath of Lady Catherine, but finally she agreed to stand outside the carriage and ensure that her Ladyship remained within.

A commotion suddenly broke out by the servant's entrance to the house. With a quick cry of thanks to the woman I ran to see what had occurred.

A dirty, bleeding youth stood there, holding a very still and smoke covered Miss de Bourgh in his arms. Seeing that he was about to collapse, two other men rushed forward to take her from him, and just in time, for he immediately fell to the floor in a faint. I directed the men carrying Miss de Bourgh to the stables where Charlotte and Laura would be able to care for her. Kneeling beside her rescuer, I called for a pitcher of water and wet his lips with it. In the orange light of the flames, I could see where his hands and arms had been burned. Indeed, I could smell the blood on him as well as the smouldering leather of his shoes.

As the water dripped into his mouth he began to cough and struggled to sit upright. As gently as I could, for I did not want to cause him further pain, I pushed him back down, speaking quietly to him and asking his name.

“Martin Piper, Miss” he whispered.

“Well Martin Piper,” I replied, “you are a hero. I believe that you may have saved Miss de Bourgh's life.”

At that he smiled a small smile, which was quickly lost in a grimace of pain. Four men arrived bearing a stretcher on which to carry him to the stables. Weakly, he protested against such measures, but his friends were insistent and slowly and carefully they rolled and lifted him, then taking one step at a time, carried him to the stables.

By this time, a steady rain had begun to fall, which served to dampen down the flames somewhat. It was clear even to me though that there was little anyone could do to save Rosings now. The fire had already destroyed over half the house, and would no doubt continue to burn until it was entirely consumed.

I raised a tired arm to wipe my face, and was about to make my way back to the stables when the sound of horse beats drew my attention. With a rush of energy, I ran towards the sound, greatly relieved to see Mr Darcy finally returning. He slowed his sweating horse and leaped from the saddle almost before it had stopped. He came towards me and roughly gathered both of my hands in his.

“Miss Bennet,” he greeted me breathlessly. “You are unharmed?”

“Quite, Mr Darcy. But I am afraid that Lady Catherine and her daughter do not do so well sir. Lady Catherine is physically well, but had suffered greatly from the shock of seeing her house burn down.”

“And Anne?” he asked anxiously.

I hated having to give him the answer. “It took the men a long time to reach her. She was sleeping when the fire broke out. Someone brought her out just a few minutes ago. She is in the stables. I do not know how she is,” I finished in a quiet voice.

“Come,” he ordered. We almost ran to the stables, with Mr Darcy firing questions at me as we went. I answered as well as I could, but the distress and exhaustion of the evening was beginning to tell on me. I struggled to keep pace with him, but was glad upon reaching the stables to find Miss de Bourgh as well as might be expected. She lay upon a bed of straw, which Charlotte had covered with several blankets to make it as comfortable as she could, with Mr Darcy kneeling before her.

Seemingly satisfied that his cousin was being taken care of, Mr Darcy rose and looked about him. Slowly, disbelievingly, he took in the scene of devastation and chaos all around.

“Who is in charge?” he asked me.

“I believe one of the footmen has organised the menfolk in tackling the fire, he is probably the best man to speak to.”

“And what of Mr Wildgoose?” asked Mr Darcy. Mr Wildgoose was the butler, but I knew that Mr Darcy did not think highly of the man.

“I have not seen him. But I have been busy with other things.”

“You do not have to defend the man Miss Bennet. I will go and look into it myself. Would you be so good as to go to my aunt and tell her that Anne is safe? I hate to ask it of you but - ”

I cut him off, reassuring him that I would be glad to inform the poor lady of her daughter's rescue. Entreating Mr Darcy to take the very greatest care and do nothing to put his own person as risk, we parted. Only then did I realise that he had again taken my hand as we talked.

The next morning I awoke late, my muscles protesting at being urged out of bed even at that hour. It had been long past midnight when I had finally laid my head down in the small room that was normally shared by Laura and Molly. Beside me lay a young woman that I had spoken to very briefly the night before.

Long after I had related to Lady Catherine the news of Anne's escape, Mr Darcy had again approached me.

Until that time I had not observed the carriage which stood by the entrance to the estate. As Mr Darcy led me to it, he explained that when he was in London he had asked his sister if she would like to accompany him back to Kent. Cross as he now was with himself for doing so, she was nevertheless here and no doubt very scared at being left alone in the carriage – her companion having stayed with relatives of her own in London.

Tired though we all were, I was glad to meet Miss Darcy. On first acquaintance she seemed to be a quiet girl, but our conversation was so limited due to my exhaustion that I really did not have a chance to form a fair picture of her. Upon hearing that Mr Darcy had secured a room for himself at the now very crowded local inn, I felt it only right to ask Miss Darcy to stay with us at the parsonage. Lady Catherine had already been offered a room by the woman I had asked to look after her, and for a time I forgot that Miss de Bourgh would also need a place to stay.

Mr Darcy rode with us in the carriage as far as the parsonage. I longed to invite him inside that I might see to his wounds and make him something to eat but he declined any invitation, seemingly desirous only of returning to Rosings to oversee the fire fighting effort. Having seen us safely inside the cottage, he kissed his sister on the cheek and bade her be a good girl, before bowing to me with a most serious look on his face.

“Sleep well, Miss Bennet,” he said before returning to the carriage.

Noises from upstairs alerted me to the fact that Charlotte had already returned to the house. Miss Darcy and I climbed the stairs, only to find Miss de Bourgh laid in what had previously been my room. A quiet conference ensued, and it was finally decided that Miss Darcy and I would share the attic room, while the maids would sleep in the kitchen. Given the choice, Charlotte decided to sleep on the floor of her now resting patient's room rather than share with her husband.

Satisfied that all was taken care of, I ushered Miss Darcy up the stairs to the small room above. In my sleepy state, it did not even occur to me to think of how poor such an arrangement must have appeared to one so used to the very best of everything as Miss Darcy, but the young girl uttered not a single word of complaint.

Gratefully I snuggled into my blankets and just had time to feel my whole body begin to relax before falling into a deep sleep from which I did not stir until the sun was high in the sky the following day.

I crept quietly out of bed to the window. Pulling aside the curtains I could not help gasping in shock at the sight that met me. Rosings had been reduced to a smouldering ruin. The debris of the house and its contents lay scattered over the once immaculate lawn. As I scanned the scene before me, a loud screech assaulted my ears.

Miss de Bourgh, it seemed, had also just awakened.

Chapter 10

Quickly pulling on my dressing gown, I hastened down stairs to ensure that Miss de Bourgh was well. By the time I reached the threshold of her room, the sickly young woman was collapsed on the bed, racked with terrible coughs. Charlotte was already in attendance, but the smoke from the fire had clearly greatly exacerbated Miss de Bourgh's ill health, and there was little that we could do to comfort her.

Beckoning my friend to the window, I asked about how Miss de Bourgh had passed the night, and about the loud cry that I had heard.

“She slept but little, but with Laura's help I managed at least to keep her confined to her bed. This morning, thinking her to be finally asleep, I left briefly to attend to my own toilette, at which point she must have found her way to the window. I believe it could only have been the great shock of seeing her own home razed to the ground that gave her the energy to make such a sound, for she is surely not capable of doing so now. But, oh Lizzy I do not think I am made to be a pastor's wife after all – for all night I have sat here, fearing most that the doctor will insist upon Miss de Bourgh remaining here until she is well.”

I couldn't help but laugh at that until Charlotte hushed me. Reassuring her that her fear made her not a terrible person, but merely a human one, I promised to remain with the patient while Charlotte washed and changed her clothing.

During the few minutes that she was away, I kept Miss de Bourgh's chapped lips wet with small drops of cool water, and changed the damp cloths on her burnt, sore hands. My ministrations seemed to ease the pain that the poor woman was in, but it was obvious that it would be some time before she would be anywhere near recovered. Upon Charlotte's return, I climbed the stairs to the attic chamber I had shared with Miss Darcy, to find the young woman beginning to awaken from her slumber.

Gently, I spoke to her, reminding her of who I was and where she had spent the night. Reluctantly, I asked if she remembered what had happened and, when she seemed prepared for the sight, led her to the window that she might see the devastation that had occurred. We stood for some time, drinking in the horrifying scene as though it were a painting.

“Do you think that we shall see Fitzwilliam today?” the girl asked me in her quiet voice.

“I am sure he will come as soon as he can to reassure you that he is safe,” I replied, trying to convince myself that I was not equally in need of such reassuring. “In fact,” I continued in what I intended to be a more hopeful voice, “it is already past the usual breakfast hour. Perhaps we should assist each other in dressing that we might be ready to receive your brother when he comes.”

Under other circumstances, I believe that our attempts at being each other's lady's maids would have been great fun. As it was, the spectre of Rosings haunted us as we helped each other with hooks and laces and dressed our hair. Within not too long a time, I led Miss Darcy to the breakfast room, which was empty but for several dishes of food which had been thoughtfully left out for us. More and more I was convinced of my companion's shy sensibilities, but also of her good sense and strength of character. Many older women of my acquaintance, including I was ashamed to say, several of my closest family, would have dithered and flustered under such circumstances, but Miss Darcy remained calm and reasonable at all times, asking sensible questions and expressing her wish to be useful to her aunt and brother in the coming day.

Just as we had hoped, Mr Darcy arrived at the parsonage soon after we had finished our light meal. For his sake, I am sorry to say that he looked far from his usual handsome self. Exhaustion showed in his face, so that, despite his attempts to smile and comfort his sister, we could both see how little sleep he had found that night.

He sat down next to Georgiana, taking her hands in his and seeking after her health. She assured him that she was well, and I could not help but smile as she attempted to make our sleeping arrangements sound like an exciting adventure. I knew that the previous night was probably the first time ever that she had had to share a room, not to mention the fact that the room we had shared was usually the servant's quarters. Still, Mr Darcy thanked me graciously for taking care of his sister before enquiring as to how I fared after the events of last night.

“I am well. A little tired perhaps, but compared to what others have suffered I cannot complain.”

He nodded, but did not seem to be about to respond. No doubt he was so tired that such conversation must have felt like an extreme waste of what precious energy he had remaining. Noticing this, I ventured to inform him of his cousin's condition.

On hearing of her burns and cough, he immediately began to rise, until his sister laid a hand on his arm.

“Stay, brother,” she urged him. “There is nothing you can do for Anne at present. She is most likely sleeping, and besides, I do not think she would wish for you to see her right now.”

“Have you seen her?” he asked quietly.

“Not yet. She was resting when Elizabeth and I came downstairs. Mrs Collins has promised to fetch me when she awakens.”

“Mrs Collins stays with her?” he asked me.

“I believe the maid is with her at the moment, and the doctor is expected soon. Mrs Collins was with her all night, but she needs her own rest now.” He nodded his understanding, his admiration for Charlotte clear in his countenance.

“I cannot stay long this morning, but please pass on my thanks to your friend. From what I understand my aunt owes her, both of you, a debt of gratitude for the resilience and common sense that you showed last night.”

There was much that I wanted to say, but the presence of Georgiana made any conversation between us difficult. It was not the young woman's fault, but there were things that could not be said while she was present. I was grateful therefore when she was the one to break the silence.

“How is aunt Catherine?”

An almost imperceptible sigh escaped him. “I thought I would come to see you first. Forgive me Georgie, Miss Bennet, but after the night I have had the company of two young women seemed preferable to facing Lady Catherine.”

I could not help returning the small, somewhat guilty smile that he offered us as he spoke. It took a second for Georgiana to feel that she might also find humour at her aunt's expense, and all three of us relaxed a little more. Belatedly, I rose to offer Mr Darcy some refreshment and was grateful that he stayed long enough to enjoy a cup of tea and a few slices of bread and cheese.

We did not speak much while he ate, but I believe that Georgiana and I were united in our silent prayers for his well being. He told us a little of his plans for the rest of the day. After calling on Lady Catherine, he planned to oversee the inventorying of the contents of Rosings and a thorough exploration of the house. He also wished to talk with the staff to ascertain the cause of the blaze.

Miss Darcy urged him not to take on so much, but he was adamant about his responsibilities.

“I would not ask, but there is not time for me to do it myself. Do you feel yourself up to writing to Richard and asking him to come as soon as he can? His help would be much appreciated.”

“Of course. I will do it right away. Do you wish me to inform Uncle and Mr O'Keefe as well?”

Mr Darcy looked with slight surprise at his sister. It appeared that he did not expect such assistance from her, but after a slight hesitation he gratefully accepted her thoughtful offer.

“Then perhaps Miss Bennet and I can help with sorting through the contents of the house, to see what can be saved and what cannot.”

When her brother did not answer, Georgiana flushed and looked down at her hands. “Forgive me, I do not mean to get in the way. I just thought that -”

“You would not be in the way Georgie. I just had not expected you to, I would not have asked you to do such a thing. But if you are sure that you would like to, your help would be most appreciated.”

“Truly?” she asked him in a whisper.

“Truly,” he replied with a fatherly smile. “But I would not like you to do it alone. We must find someone to accompany you.”

Happy to be of use to both siblings at once, I immediately assured Mr Darcy of my willingness to do whatever I could to help. Seeing the tiredness in his face as he thanked me, it was all I could do not to order him to bed that instant. As it was, I hinted as gently as I could that perhaps he should leave to take some rest, forgetting that he had already mentioned his intent to call on Lady Catherine after leaving us.

Georgie had already begun her letters and, after a tight embrace, parted from her brother inside the house. I walked with him to his horse, whereupon he took my hand in his and once again thanked me for taking care of both his cousin and his sister.

“I am sorry that you were placed in a position of danger last night Miss Bennet.”

Something in his voice caused me to raise my eyes to his, finding there a tenderness I had not expected.

“I am glad to find you well this morning,” he added, gently stroking his thumb over the back of my hand as he did so.

The distraction of his caress made replying almost impossible. Struggling to maintain some kind of composure I eventually managed to tell him that I would feel even better if I were sure that he was well too.

“You must promise me that you will get some sleep before returning to the house sir.”

“Very well, Miss Bennet. If it will make you happy, I will rest a little once I have seen my aunt.” I chanced another look at him, only to find him still looking intently at me. He had looked at me thus before, only now I realised that his look was not one of disapproval. However this really did not feel like the right time to be indulging in such thoughts. “Perhaps I could call for you and Georgie on my way back to Rosings? That should give her plenty of time to write her letters.”

My eyes firmly fixed on the hoof of his horse, I nodded my agreement, finding myself unequal to the task of replying coherently. Mr Darcy released his gentle hold of my hand, only to raise his fingers to my chin. Momentarily, I resisted his attempt to make me look at him, alarmed at what he might be about to do, but his will was stronger than mine. He moved his hand around to cup my cheek and smiled a little sadly as he searched my face.

“This is not the conversation I had hoped to be having with you this morning Miss Bennet. You understand I think that my aunt and her home must be my priority for now. Once the immediate needs of both have been seen to though, I hope that you will still be willing to allow me to call on you.” He spoke slowly, hesitantly, every word full of meaning and emotion.

Without daring to believe what he was saying, I again nodded my acceptance of his words, a tearful smile forming on my face at his reassuring words. I couldn't help but wonder if any event could have prevented him from declaring himself to me that day. It seemed that he had decided to do so, and not even the burning down of his aunt's house would stop him. As it was, he had stopped short of an actual proposal, but there was now no doubt in my heart or mind that Mr Darcy loved me.

I felt my smile broaden as I gazed at him. Seeing my happiness reflected in his own eyes, I bit my lip to prevent myself from laughing aloud. Removing his hand, Mr Darcy bowed briefly before jumping with unexpected energy onto his horse.

“Thank you Miss Bennet. Suddenly I don't feel quite so tired any more,” he exclaimed as he turned the horse around and prepared to leave. “I will see you again in a few hours.”

The rest of the day passed in a rush of activity. Mr Collins had already left that morning to comfort his parishioners. Who he intended to offer his distinctive form of solace to I was not sure, but at least he was out of Charlotte's way. The doctor came to see Miss de Bourgh. Her injuries were serious but he did not believe there was any threat to her life. He advised that she should not be moved for the time being – not that there was anywhere for her to go now that her home had been burned down. Charlotte bore the news as well as could be expected. My friend was a dutiful woman, and not without compassion. She would bear the changes that had been forced on her household with her usual sense and good humour.

The potion that the doctor gave Miss de Bourgh eased her cough a little and helped her to fall asleep again. Charlotte and I sat in her room, quietly discussing our thoughts on the coming days. Among her many other concerns, my friend was worried about Georgiana. It was not right, she felt, for a lady of her standing to be reduced to sleeping in the maids' quarters, but neither was it our duty to decide what could be done. That responsibility lay with Mr Darcy alone, and Charlotte tasked me with asking him about it when he collected us later that morning.

She meanwhile would stay with Miss de Bourgh, resignedly awaiting the inevitable visit from Lady Catherine. I did not envy her one bit.

We had still received no news on the well being of her Ladyship, but had been visited by several neighbours bringing us various pieces of information. Four men had died in the fire, three of whom were servants at Rosings, the fourth had yet to be identified. It was supposed, according to Mrs Waltham who had related the tale to us, that he was one of the men who had been seen on the stairs by those fleeing the fire, but since no-one had yet discovered who those men were, it was impossible to know for sure.

The next caller, Mrs Bostock – the wife of Lady Catherine's head gardener, confirmed that most of the house had indeed been destroyed. The fire had caused the roof to collapse, which did far more damage than the flames themselves. Since no-one had thought to co-ordinate the efforts of the servants early enough, very few possessions had been saved from the fire, although men were slowly beginning to re-enter the building to see what might still be kept.

I was at the door speaking to Mr Haynes, the local apothecary who had come to deliver a bewildering variety of medicines for Miss de Bourgh, when Mr Darcy returned. It was scarcely two hours since he had left, and he could hardly have had any sleep, yet he looked better and I was pleased to see him. Georgiana and I quickly collected our things together and took our seats in the carriage.

Mr Darcy's response to his sister's enquiries after Lady Catherine were brief but spoke volumes. Evidently his interview with her had not gone well, but I have to admit to being glad to learn that she had returned to her usual self. She had refused his offer of removing her household to his London address, but was apparently dissatisfied with the accommodation she had been offered in Hunsford. Neither was she happy that her daughter was staying at the vicar's house, yet she refused to hear of her being moved for fear of damaging her health further. Faced with such unreasonable arguments, it appeared that her nephew had simply left while his temper was in tact. His exasperation with his aunt was clear.

He soon turned his mind to other matters though and gave Georgiana and I concise instructions on what he wanted us to do. We were to locate and catalogue any jewelry, art works and other items of value that we could find, while also trying to remember any other such items that were missing. He did not say so, but it was clear that he expected the latter list to exceed the former in terms of length. While we worked on that, he intended to interview as many of the staff as possible in an attempt to discover what had happened the night before.

The scene at Rosings was like nothing I had ever witnessed. Furniture and Lady Catherine's interesting choice in works of art littered the front lawn; clothing spilled out of cupboards; linen and china lay scattered across the damp grass. Candlesticks stood atop of upholstered chairs, paintings lent against bed posts, kitchen pots towered in high piles that threatened to topple at any moment. A grand piano, with a mismatched pair of ornamental vases standing on its lid, rested in the shade of the great oak tree by the stables, the incongruity of its position emphasised by the fact that someone had tied their horse to the very same tree.

In the midst of such chaos, Georgie and I worked hard, finding that we complemented each other well. Selecting two footmen and a maid to help us, we sorted through the piles of possessions that had been brought on to the lawn, discarding some as beyond repair and others as being of insignificant value. We soon had a list of reasonably valuable items, but it was becoming clear that Lady Catherine's jewelry boxes were not among the items before us.

The footmen assured us that her rooms had been reached and searched, but could not tell Georgie if the safe in the study had been opened. No-one had been able to enter that room as the fallen roof had blocked the door.

After working for another hour, the hope that we had so far been able to maintain of finding the missing jewelry was totally extinguished. A group of work men had reached the study, to find it thoroughly destroyed by the fire. The metal of the safe door remained intact, but the door swung open, revealing an empty cupboard behind it.

With heavy hearts, Georgie and I thanked the boy who had brought us the news, and set out to find her brother. We were directed towards the gate keeper's cottage, where Mr Darcy was apparently conducting his interviews with the staff. The terrified look on the face of the girl who opened the door to us was enough for us to gain a fair idea of how his day was going.

His voice resounded through the walls of the small cottage.

“Your scheme has failed sir. I suggest that you help yourself and tell me a once who masterminded this whole affair.”

“What makes you so sure that I was not working alone?” a man asked impudently. From the roughness in his voice, I guessed that he had been in the house when it was burning.

“You?” Mr Darcy scoffed. “You didn't even have the sense to make sure you could leave the house before setting it alight. No Mr Wildgoose, I do not think you were the brains behind this crime. You were merely someone's puppet, and sooner or later you will tell me exactly who that man was.”

Georgie and I looked at each other, a little scared by the obvious anger in Mr Darcy's voice and not at all sure what to do for the best. This was certainly not the ideal time to interrupt Mr Darcy, and yet I was loath to pretend that we had not overheard his conversation.

Fortunately for us, he chose that moment to leave the room, slamming the door behind him. He started when he saw us, turning away and passing his hands over his face.

“How much did you hear?” he asked.

“Only a very little,” I replied, hoping that this would calm him.

“Two of the men found the butler collapsed in the orchard this morning. No-one remembered seeing him last night after the fire had started. It was not hard to figure out that he was involved. For some reason the odious man refuses to tell me who he was working with.”

“But surely he will be punished for the part he has already played? What good will keeping silent do him?”

“Very little Miss Bennet. That is what I do not understand. Why should he not now confess the whole truth?”

“Brother?” Georgie's voice was quiet. We both turned to her, finding her shaken and upset by the conversation she had overheard.

Immediately he went to her, speaking quietly and reassuring her. “Come,” he announced to us both. “I will escort you both back to the parsonage.”

With little choice but to obey, we followed him into his carriage. Once inside, he shook off his poor mood and asked us how our search had gone. On hearing of our lack of success he did not seem surprised. It was as though he was expecting the worst.

I had rarely felt as hopeless in my whole life. The trial of the last twenty four hours had been hard, with little prospect of good news in sight. I sank back into the cushions of the coach seats, an indulgence I would never have allowed myself under normal conditions. Feeling my eye lids begin to close, I forced myself to stay awake, remembering that I had still not raised the issue of Georgiana's sleeping arrangements with him.

Rallying myself to speak, I found him again looking directly at me, as though the answer to the questions that troubled him might be found on my face. Either that or the strain of my day had really taken its toll on my appearance. If a bit of mud on my petticoat was enough to scandalise Miss Bingley, I could not help but smile at the thought of what she would make of the state of me now.

It warmed me to see him return my smile, raising his eyebrows as if to ask what the joke was. Since it was not something I could in good conscience share, I shook my head slightly to defer his enquiry, and instead took the moment to raise Charlotte's concerns with him.

“I'm sorry to trouble you with this sir, but Mrs Collins asked me to ask you. The parsonage is a small cottage. Miss de Bourgh is already occupying the spare room, so that Georgiana and I last night shared the maids' room. I am sure this is not what you want for your sister, but we were not sure what you would prefer to do for the best. There is no other bed for her to sleep in -”

“It is quite alright Miss Bennet. Usually, as you say, it is not what I would wish for her, but I do not think the experience has done her any harm. Perhaps tomorrow we can find some other arrangement for you both, for Mrs Collins' sake if nothing else, but for tonight, I believe Georgie can cope with returning to your attic room?” He addressed the last to his sister, who nodded her ascent.

Yawning, she added, “I slept so heavily last night that I would not have felt the benefit of even the softest bed. And I am so tired tonight that I am sure I will be fine.”

“Good girl Georgie.” She smiled at her brother's praise, resting her head on his shoulder for the remainder of the short ride.

Mr Darcy stepped into the house briefly to speak to Charlotte about his cousin's health and offer any assistance that she might need. Upon learning that Miss de Bourgh had spent most of the day sleeping and that she had taken a little broth at lunchtime, he seemed to physically relax, so that when Charlotte invited him to join us for dinner he accepted gratefully. I could not help but observe that his enthusiasm to remain with us was dampened slightly when he found that Mr Collins was also in attendance, yet he did not attempt to escape. Instead he deliberately, or so it appeared to me, took a seat next to Mr Collins so that he might be directly opposite me, from where he immediately resumed his observation of my every movement. Relishing his attention, I had to actively force myself to attend to the conversation at the table.

Not that there was really much to attend to – for the general tiredness of everyone present combined with the obsequious chatter of Mr Collins meant that conversation was limited. Mr and Miss Darcy in particular withdrew into themselves, leaving Charlotte and I to carry on the sensible end of the conversation. More often than not though, it was my senseless cousin who spoke, informing us at great length about the well being of Lady Catherine and her thoughts on the terrible events of the night before.

“What a jewel England has lost!” he cried more than once. “I hope you will hasten to rebuild Mr Darcy, that Lady Catherine might be restored to her rightful place in the splendour to which she is accustomed. Or as I said to her today, 'Lady Catherine, it is indeed a terrible thing for this nation to be deprived of the beauty and magnificence of Rosings Park.” And her Ladyship was so good as to agree with me, that its loss was a tragedy that would surely be felt by all people of superior taste and education.”

There was little one could add to such a speech but a well hidden smirk or, in Charlotte's case, a patient nod. As much as I enjoyed the feeling of Mr Darcy's closeness, I was most relieved that evening when he rose to leave, taking it also as my cue to escort Georgie upstairs and away from Mr Collins.

Mr Darcy paused to bid us both farewell in the doorway. After leaning in to kiss his sister's cheek, I believe that he was about to forget himself and offer the same gesture to me until my cousin happened to exit the breakfast room right at that moment. Awkwardly, Mr Darcy turned his movement into a hasty bow, but I was sure that I caught a hint of a wink from that gentleman who I had previously thought so serious as he straightened up.

Either way, my thoughts as I climbed the stairs were not focused on Georgie's needs, nor Miss de Bourgh's, nor the amount of work which rebuilding Rosings would require. Instead they were firmly fixed on Mr Darcy and his attentions to me whenever I had seen him that day. I was probably the only person with any connection to Rosings who went to sleep with a smile on their face that night.

Chapter 11

Miss de Bourgh seemed much improved the next day. She was able to sit up a little in her bed, and requested Georgiana's attendance on her for more than a half hour. Knowing her to be awake, I took pains to avoid the sick room, not wanting to distress the patient with my no doubt unwelcome presence.

The falling rain kept us indoors during the morning, but I hope that we could not be accused of wasting our time. Rather, Charlotte engaged Georgiana and herself with plenty of sewing and mending in an effort to provide some of the dispossessed Rosings staff with wearable clothing. Knowing that I preferred to work in the still room, she asked me to prepare further ointments and soothing tonics for Miss de Bourgh. Sad though my task was, I enjoyed my work with the herbs and flowers, and was proud of the quality of all that I made.

The sound of a carriage in the lane caught my attention. Wiping my hands I hurried out to the porch to see if it was someone come to call on us, in truth to see if it might be Mr Darcy. However at the sight of that man's outspoken aunt descending from her carriage I deeply regretted my hasty exit from the house.

“You girl,” she cried upon seeing me. Deliberately misunderstanding her, I looked about me for the 'girl' that she was addressing. With a loud sigh of annoyance and a bang of her ever expressive walking stick, Lady Catherine stalked towards me. “Miss Bennet,” she said pointedly, “where is my daughter? I will not tolerate her being kept in this house any longer. You will take me to her at once.”

Before I could reply, my humble cousin tumbled through the door, falling over his feet in his haste to wait upon our illustrious guest.

“What an honour you do us by bestowing your gracious - ” he began twittering.

“Yes, yes,” she waved him away. “It is not for the nobility to wait upon those who serve them Mr Collins. I have come to call upon my daughter. This,” she looked me up and down as though I were a filthy urchin, “girl refuses to oblige me and instead leaves me standing out in the rain.”

“Oh your Ladyship, allow me to apologise for my cousin's poor manners,” he pleaded, adopting a grovelling posture at her elbow that caused me to blush for him. “I beg to be of service in escorting you to Miss de Bourgh's chambers. And may I assure you madam that you need have no concerns regarding our ability to provide your daughter with every comfort that her delicate condition requires. Why, who would not delight in providing for the needs of such a inspirational soul as -”

“Mr Collins!” Lady Catherine cried. “Do not think, sir, that I am pleased that my daughter has been forced these two nights to reside in the house of my parson. I am here today only to assure myself that she is not suffering the ill effects of such a torment, and to make immediate plans for her to be removed to a place more suited to a lady of her rank and importance.”

My cousin's response was only to stoop lower and agree more forcibly with every insult that Lady Catherine threw at him. I watched in disgust as they passed me on their way into the house, and then jumped back in surprise as one of the maids rushed out, apparently on an errand of some importance. From inside, where I knew that I must eventually return, I heard the sound of Charlotte's voice, followed by the ever louder Lady Catherine. Too late did I realise what had so incensed her that she was now shouting at full volume.

Georgiana!

Up until that point, I quickly deduced, Lady Catherine had known nothing of the fact that her niece was also staying in the parsonage, let alone the fact that she was sharing the maids' room with me. The poor girl would no doubt be terrified at being confronted with her aunt's fury. I took half a second to look up and down the lane, hoping against hope that I might see Mr Darcy approaching the parsonage. Alas, he was not to be seen, so I ran into Charlotte's parlour to support both of my friends.

Miss Darcy stood with tears in her eyes as Lady Catherine denounced Charlotte, myself and the parsonage as altogether unsuitable for any member of her family. In a move which I knew would only increase her aunt's ire, but would, more importantly, aid my new friend, I stepped close to Georgie, standing a little behind her so that she might not feel alone under her Ladyship's icy glare.

“Please, Lady Catherine,” pleaded Charlotte when her guest finally paused for breath, “Miss de Bourgh is still very ill. The doctor says that she must have peace and quiet in which to rest. This shouting will do her no good at all.”

“My dear, please,” cried Mr Collins, aghast at his wife's manner of speaking to his infallible patroness.

“Who is shouting Mrs Collins? I am merely trying to look after my family, a job which I see Darcy is not doing as he should. What was he thinking in letting his sister sleep here? His parents will be turning in their graves.”

Georgie looked so distraught at Lady Catherine's pronouncements that all I could think to do was to get her and her aunt into separate rooms as fast as possible. Ignoring Lady Catherine as far as it was possible to ignore an overbearing woman in a small room, I guided her out of the parlour. She came as meekly as a mouse, offering no resistance to the light touch of my hand upon her arm.

In the hallway, I took her in my arms and held her as she sobbed quietly against my shoulder, her aunt's shouting still ringing in her ears. I would have to apologise to Charlotte later for leaving her alone with the formidable woman and her own traitorous husband, but I was sure that she would understand.

“I cannot believe she said those things,” gasped Georgie once her tears had subsided a little. “My brother was quite content for me to remain here, as was I.”

“I know dear. But Lady Catherine has rather, shall we say, exalted views of her family. Nothing other than the grand houses of Rosings or Pemberley are good enough for you in her eyes I'm afraid.”

“Oh but, Pemberley is not so very grand. Not to me at least. It may be a beautiful house, but to me it is simply my home.” She looked up at me with a look of hope in her tear stained eyes. “I would love for you to see it one day Elizabeth.”

The door behind us flew open at that point, revealing Lady Catherine in all her haughty fury.

“Unhand my niece this instant. You are not fit to speak with her. Pull yourself together Georgiana. Try to remember that you a a Darcy, not some common girl who may behave as she pleases.” Of course her harsh words instantly undid all the efforts I had made to rally Georgie's spirits, and the girl immediately stepped backwards, away from her aunt and into the shadows at the bottom of the stairs. But her Ladyship was not to be so easily avoided.

“Come along with me niece,” she cried as she began to climb the stairs. I could not help but notice the difficulty with which she proceeded up them, her age showing as she stumbled several times. Perhaps to prevent her aunt from falling, Georgie hurried after her and took her arm. “That's better. I will see my daughter, however much people try to prevent me from doing so.”

Charlotte sent me a worried look and ascended after the pair. When she saw that Mr Collins evidently intended to follow, a few sharp words were enough to send him scurrying in the other direction. I was at a loss for what to do. There was no doubt in my mind that I would not be welcome in the sick room, and it was definitely the last place I wished to be. I thought of my work in the still room, but knew that I was no longer in the calm state of mind required to continue my tasks there.

Feeling useless and more hurt than I cared to admit by Lady Catherine's behaviour, I slumped down on the bottom step. While the rain continued I could not escape from the house, nor could I find useful occupation within. Her Ladyship's voice drifted down the stairs to me, but it was several minutes before I identified the burnt, dry voice of her daughter rasping its way down to me in between her mother's outbursts. Intrigued, I crept up the stairs to listen to what they had to say, justifying my eavesdropping on the basis that Mr Darcy had entrusted the care of his precious sister to me.

Truly there was no end to their viciousness. Anne de Bourgh, who Charlotte and I had tended to and cared for, lay in her sick bed, daring to complain about us both. Charlotte had left her, she said, and she had fallen, alone and unattended. But my faults were far more grievous. I had ingratiated myself with Georgiana, filling her head with lower class nonsense and presumptuousness. I had been working to convince her that I would be a wonderful wife for her brother, using my arts and allurements to distract both Mr and Miss Darcy from their duty to their cousin. I was incensed, and only for Georgiana's sake did I restrain myself from bursting into the room.

As it happened, I was saved from my anger by the unexpected arrival of Mr Darcy himself. At the sound of the front door being thrown open, I jumped away from the door I was standing at, frozen at the sound of heavy footfalls climbing the stairs. He came round the corner at a rush, sweating with the exertion of a fast ride to our door.

“I came as soon as the maid found me. My aunt is in there?” he asked in a low voice, only to have his supposition confirmed by his aunt's shouting. He grasped my hand roughly in his own and inclined his head toward me. “You are upset Miss Bennet.”

“I am well sir. But Georgiana needs your assistance. Go,” I whispered to him, squeezing his hand to convey my urgency.

Without a pause he knocked and opened the door to Miss de Bourgh's room. The surprise of his entrance drew a long coughing fit from her, which in turn set Lady Catherine going on another long diatribe.

“Perhaps you would escort Georgiana downstairs Mrs Collins,” I heard him ask while his aunt continued to speak abusively of my friend and I. “I wish to speak with my aunt and cousin alone.”

Somewhat ashamed of having been caught listening outside, I followed the pair downstairs and went to the kitchen to prepare some tea for us all. We drank it in silence, expecting any minute to hear further shouting from upstairs. But all was eerily quiet. I almost began to doubt that the hysterics of a few minutes earlier had even occurred, except for my friend's tear stained eyes.

Eventually Mr Darcy returned downstairs. He entered the room in angry silence and took up a position by the mantelpiece.

“William?” asked Georgiana timidly when he remained silent for some time.

He looked up at his sister, apparently noticing her distress for the first time and immediately moved to sit with her. “Oh Georgiana,” he sighed, visibly relaxing as he bestowed a brotherly kiss on her hands. “Your aunt is,” he broke off, looking to Charlotte and I for help in finding the words.

To everyone's surprise, Georgie laughed lightly. “I know how Aunt Catherine is. Although I have never seen her be so cruel to anyone's face before.”

“I do not think I have ever witnessed anyone being so ill-mannered before. I am just sorry that you have had to listen to her nonsense. I regret having to ask this Mrs Collins, but I would like to know your version of what just happened here. I already have my aunt's side of the tale.”

Charlotte nodded her understanding, took a moment to gather her thoughts and then presented Mr Darcy with a truthful, unembellished account of events since his aunt's arrival. He looked grave when she had finished.

“And am I correct in thinking that Anne is in too delicate a condition to be moved?”

“I believe so sir, yes. She is very much weakened by the fire, the doctor has said that her lungs have been badly affected by the smoke and does not know how long it will take for her to recover. I know it is not what your aunt wishes, but Miss de Bourgh will be welcome in this house until the doctor pronounces her well enough to leave.”

Charlotte's goodness in the face of Lady Catherine's behaviour made it all too clear who was the true lady. Mr Darcy nodded his gratitude, then looked to his sister and finally to me before continuing.

“On my word as a gentleman Mrs Collins, the very same hour that the doctor declares my cousin well enough to be moved, she shall be in my carriage and on her way to her relations in London,” he vowed passionately. “In the meantime, my aunt has made it abundantly clear that she will not tolerate Anne staying here while Miss Bennet is present. I too object to such a situation.” Holding my gaze he added, “No-one should have to suffer the abuses you have gone through this last week. Mr O'Keefe – my steward – arrives later today, and his first task when he does will be to find alternative accommodation for Georgiana and Miss Bennet. Once a suitable establishment has been found, I will write to Miss Bennet's father informing him of the situation.”

I could only be grateful to him for his thoughtfulness, but chose to leave it to Charlotte to thank Mr Darcy on my behalf. She seemed to see nothing improper in his plan, and I certainly did not object to the chance to escape from living in the same house as the terrible Miss de Bourgh.

He did not stay with us long after that, escorting his aunt from the house as he left. The three of us who remained let out a collective sigh of relief as her carriage drew away. There was still much work to be done though, and we spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon in useful employment. Mr Collins had, at Charlotte's suggestion, gone to arrange the funerals of the poor souls who had not survived the fire and even though his work was of such a tragic nature, we were glad to be spared his presence.

After luncheon, Georgiana was delighted to be visited by her cousin, the very amiable Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had just arrived in Hunsford after receiving her letter. Charlotte and I immediately liked the gentleman, all the more so when he informed us that he had brought with him an invitation from his parents for Lady Catherine to join them at their house in London. He did not stay with us long, as he was needed elsewhere by his cousin. It was approaching tea time when the parsonage bell rang again.

I heard Charlotte exclaim as she opened the door, and found myself doing the very same a few minutes later when she showed our latest visitor into the parlour.

“Mrs Tomlinson!”

“Yes my dear. Do not look so shocked. Mrs Collins has told me all that has happened, and I am not surprised to have been quite forgotten amid all of the tragic events here. But never mind,” she said cheerfully, “Now that I am here, perhaps I can be of some use. How are you Georgie? You look well, very well if I may so.”

Miss Darcy blushed under the older woman's praise. Quickly we explained the situation to her – that Mrs Tomlinson had come to escort me to a party that her niece and nephew were throwing that evening.

“But that is marvelous,” cried Georgiana happily. “My brother is looking for somewhere for Elizabeth and I to stay for a few days. I do not know why we did not think of you before. Oh do say we can come back to Augustine Lodge with you?”

Evidently Georgiana was not at all shy around Mrs Tomlinson, and although it was wonderful to see her so vivacious, I could not help but chide her gently for her forwardness.

“That is quite all right Miss Bennet. Georgie here is as much family as my Emily. And of course you must both come to stay with us. I am only sad that young Fitzwilliam will not be able to attend tonight. I was quite looking forward to watching your handsome brother dance!”

Our trunks were quickly packed, and a note dispatched to Mr Darcy to inform him of our plans. I was interested to observe Georgie's conversations with Mrs Tomlinson. While she had seemed withdrawn and a little nervous in front of our other visitors, with the woman who now shared a sofa with her there was no reserve at all. Instead, the two women displayed towards each other the same loving openness that Mr Darcy had shared with the Saxby's.

All of a sudden, Mr Wickham's words concerning Georgie came back to me. In the rush of the last few days I had not had spared my old favourite a single thought. Now, his description of Miss Darcy as a proud and haughty girl struck me with considerable force. Her timid, pleasing ways cast his accusations against the Darcy's in a new light. This was not the girl he had described, just as I could not believe Mr Darcy to be the villain he had made him out to be. I was relieved to be able to call Mr Wickham a liar, finally able to release Mr Darcy from the slander that he had been subjected to.

What I could not decipher was Mr Wickham's motivation in spreading his untruths. I resolved to find out the truth about him at some stage. I dared not ask Mr Darcy for fear of angering him. Perhaps, I hoped, Georgiana might tell me.

The sun was low in the sky when Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived to bid us farewell. Evidently they approved of the plan, both gentlemen greeting Mrs Tomlinson with affection and gratitude. With many promises to behave and to try to enjoy herself, Georgie took her leave of her guardians. Her cousin handed her into the carriage while Mr Darcy reached to take my hand.

“I will try to visit you both as soon as possible Miss Bennet, and if any letters arrive for you, I will deliver them to you myself,” he added, as though I often received important letters of business.

Bemused, I nevertheless thanked him for his consideration. “If it is not too much to ask sir, perhaps you might call on Mrs Collins each day in my absence. I am sure it would be a comfort to her to have your guidance and advice at this time.”

“I already intended to, but for your sake I shall increase my efforts. Goodbye Miss Bennet,” he said as he helped me into the waiting carriage. “Goodbye Mrs Tomlinson,” he added. “Send my regards to the Saxby's.”

“I will young man. You just take care of yourself. And mind yourself when you go to London. I don't want to hear of you exhausting yourself in your haste.”

“Have no fear madam. I have already concluded all of my business there, and I must say, with an even greater level of success than I had hoped.” The older woman nodded her head approvingly. Mr Darcy closed the carriage door and stepped back to watch us pull away. I watched him out of the window for as long as I could, before contentedly joining in the conversation of my two companions.

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