Beginning , Section II

Chapter 7

Posted on September 18, 2009

"Checkmate!" Mr. Bennet grinned as he swept the bishop from the board and Bingley cringed in defeat. "I must say, Mr. Bingley, you have been a little more of a challenge today."

"Thank you, sir, I try. As you have seen twice now, the finer points of the game tend to elude me."

"Patience, my friend, patience. It will aid you every time."

"My good friend, Mr. Darcy, gives me similar advice," Bingley smiled, trying to ignore the quiet snort that erupted from Mrs. Bennet. "Shall we try again – say on Thursday?"

"Thursday? Yes, that should do nicely. I even believe the ladies will be happy if you come in time for tea. Is that not so, Mrs. Bennet?"

"Oh, yes! Tea on Thursday would be lovely, I am sure. We are always honored when you visit us, Mr. Bingley. It would be most – "

"Well, well, my dear. Mr. Bingley has humored my love for chess long enough and must have other matters to attend. I am sure I do."

"Quite right, Mr. Bennet," his wife agreed, casting a meaningful look to Jane, "but we cannot end this most enjoyable time without our Mary playing something for us, can we? Shall you stay a little longer, Mr. Bingley?"

"Of course, Mrs. Bennet. I would be delighted!" Bingley exclaimed as Mr. Bennet sank unhappily back into his chair.

Surprised and pleased at the unexpected attention, Mary quickly produced a favorite score and settled herself at the piano-forte.

Bingley was happy to oblige Mrs. Bennet for he had hoped his visit would present an opportunity to speak with Jane, and until this moment, none had materialized. He moved to the open chair next to her on the pretense of having a better view. Mary's first notes filled the room and her efforts had not reached the end of the first page before he began.

"Miss Bennet, my sisters have just arrived at Netherfield, along with Mr. Darcy, and his sister. If you have no previous engagements, Caroline would be pleased if you could join us for tea tomorrow afternoon. I would like it – that is to say, she would like it very much if you would come."

Jane's expression brightened at the invitation, only to darken with disappointment just as quickly. Charles was puzzled. They had spoken only twice since his return, but he had thought there was great progress in their understanding of one another.

"I have no previous engagements, sir," said Jane quietly, "but do you not think it might be an imposition upon certain members of your party?"

"An imposition? How could it be an imposition?"

"I…I was told by your sister, Miss Bingley that…she was kind enough to inform me of your…admiration…for Miss Darcy. I…thought perhaps my presence would cause some discomfort for…some of your guests," she finished and looked down in awkward silence.

"Upon my word! I never….I…I am amazed! I…I cannot say what possessed Caroline to convey such a thing," he whispered anxiously. "You must believe me, Miss Bennet, there is no understanding of any kind between Miss Darcy and myself. I give you my word. The only connection I have to the Darcy family is my good friend, Mr. Darcy!"

"But your sister –"

"Miss Bennet," he met her eyes, refusing to let her turn away as he spoke, "I assure you that your presence at Netherfield would not cause any discomfort in the least. In truth, the effect would be quite the opposite."

Jane caught her breath and finally pulled her eyes away from his, a blush rising in her cheeks.

"In that case, sir, I shall be delighted to accept."

"You have to let me go, Papa!"

"Indeed, I do not, Lydia."

"But Mrs. Forster has invited me as her particular friend!"

"Particular or not, you shall not go to Brighton."

"Mama, my heart shall break if I do not go!"

Mrs. Bennet could contain herself no longer. Setting down her glass of wine, she fixed an endearing smile upon her husband seated at the other end of the dining table and entered the fray.

"My dear Mr. Bennet, surely you would not have us slight Mrs. Forster by refusing to let our dear sweet Lydia accompany her to the seaside?"

Mr. Bennet slowly removed his napkin and placed it on the table, trying to control his rising agitation. He wanted to say, "And have her disgrace the family completely? Not for all the Mrs. Forsters in the world!" But instead, he rose and faced his wife squarely.

"I have no intention of slighting Mrs. Forster, but Lydia shall not go."

"Oh, Mr. Bennet!" cried his wife petulantly. "How can you be so cruel? You have scarce allowed the poor girl out of doors this entire week!"

"Nevertheless, my mind is made up. I shall be in my library, not to be disturbed."

Making his retreat, he turned a deaf ear to the sounds of Lydia's wailing and Mrs. Bennet's soothing assurances.

"There, there, my dear. He shall come round by and by. You shall see."

Softly closing the library door, Mr. Bennet sank into the soft cushions of his favorite reading chair, feeling exhausted. The shock of Lydia's shameful behavior still fresh in his mind, he vowed he would not relent his decision. He could not allow her unguarded and imprudent manner to disgrace the entire family. Besides, what if the blackmailer was among Colonel Forster's regiment? He could not risk it.

Taking Lydia's letter from his pocket, he examined it yet again looking for anything that would reveal the rake's identity. What was the girl thinking to write such a letter - and exactly how many more are there? Beads of sweat formed on his brow and a trembling hand wiped them away. God forbid they should become public!

Dejectedly, he looked around the comfortably cluttered library, searching for answers. His eyes were drawn to the luminous object laying on his desktop across the room and a low, contemptuous snort erupted from him. It had been years since he last took the ancient dueling sword down from its place above the hearth, and his attempt at some practice strokes that very morning had left him weak and gasping for breath within a few short minutes. Absently rubbing at the ache in his arm that had come with the morning's exercise, he conceded to Lizzy's earlier argument. He was in no shape to fight this man – whoever he was.

A faint knock at the door sounded distantly in William Bennet's mind and he opened his eyes against a dull, throbbing pain that filled his head. He was astonished to find himself lying on the floor of his library. Puzzled at how he came to be there, he tried to sit up and instantly regretted the effort as the room began spinning wildly and his stomach lurched nauseously. Dropping his head back to the carpet with short, deliberate breaths, he attempted to roll onto his back. His astonishment quickly grew to alarm as he discovered his right arm and leg refused to respond to his efforts.

As he looked about for something to help him get up, he spied Lydia's shameful letter lying on the floor, just beyond his right hand. The letter! If someone should see it, the family would be ruined. He reached out to retrieve it, but his paralyzed arm would not respond no matter how hard he tried. He tried again, reaching across with his left hand, but it was beyond his reach and the movement only succeeded in bringing on another debilitating wave of vertigo.

He was forced back to the floor, pale and trembling from his exertions. In another moment, his alarm escalated to true panic when the knock sounded again, and was followed by a hesitant opening of the door.

"Father?" Jane inquired cautiously.

"Jane!" he answered weakly.

"Father!" she cried at the sight of him on the floor. She flew to his side instantly, tears of apprehension filling her eyes. "You are ill! Lie still, I shall get John at once!"

"No, wait!"

Not hearing his feeble objection, Jane ran from the room frantically summoning their manservant, "John! John! Come quickly! Mr. Bennet is ill!"

Mr. Bennet lay motionless on the floor listening to the house come to life with Jane's cries of alarm. As the news of his collapse spread, he could hear Mrs. Bennet's shrill cries above stairs demanding to know what had happened. His eyes went again to the odious letter resting on the carpet in plain sight. The room would very soon be filled with people. People who must not find it!

He groaned in a renewed effort to retrieve it. Pushing with all his might against the dead weight of his useless limbs, he managed to move a little closer. He again reached out with his left hand only to be forced back down by the nauseating dizziness that enveloped him. Not close enough! He struggled to move another inch, panting with exhaustion, straining every muscle to reach the letter, and was rewarded when trembling fingertips brushed the edge. Once more and he would have it, but he had to hurry!

Spurred on by the sound of John's heavy footsteps entering the house, he gathered his strength for one final attempt. They were almost here! He took a ragged breath and pushed once more, managing only an inch closer, but it was enough! His trembling fingers reached out to claim the letter just as Mrs. Bennet burst into the library.

"Oh, Mr. Bennet! What has happened? You cannot die! What will become of us!" she wailed, sinking down beside him. The swish of her skirts swept the letter away, carrying it beyond his reach and he fell back in despair.

In the next instant, confusion filled the room as Jane rushed in with John and Mrs. Hill, followed closely by Mary, Kitty, and Lydia, the girls all falling down around him in tears. Mr. Bennet watched helplessly as the flurry of skirts sent the letter flying again and again, and he could only pray that it would go unnoticed in the tumult.

With his wife fluttering uselessly over him, shrieking for someone to do something, Mr. Bennet could no longer defy the heaviness in his eyes and let them close. As he sank further and further down into a dark pool of nothingness, he heard the sound of Mrs. Hill's voice sharply dismissing the hovering servants with orders to fetch the physician at once.

Jane tapped gently on the door to her father's room. "Dr. Heaton? I have brought the cloths and cool water you asked for," she whispered, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

The door quickly opened and the doctor took the items from Jane.

"Thank you, Miss Bennet. Is your mother settled?"

"Yes, sir. The draught has finally taken effect and she is sleeping. Mary is with her now." She craned her neck anxiously to see into the room. "How is my father?"

The doctor gave her a compassionate smile. It was plain to see she had brought the tray herself instead of sending a servant so that she might have a chance to see her father.

"He has had a serious attack, but is holding his own for now. This next day will tell me more."

"Will he recover?"

"It remains to be seen what the extent of his recovery will be," Dr. Heaton replied evasively, and fresh tears began to well in Jane's eyes. "I will know more after tomorrow. I have written instructions for a compound that might help. Why don't you stay with your father a few minutes, while I go talk with Mr. Jones?"

Sitting in the stillness, Jane listened to her father's labored breathing and studied his quiet form. She noted the sagging lines that pulled at the right side of his face, and her tears spilled over. She reached out and gently traced one of the lines, only to snatch her hand back in surprise when his eyes fluttered opened.

"Jane, you…here," his garbled words came out soft and rasping.

"Yes, Father. I am here."

"Doctor? Where…doctor?"

"He has gone for a few minutes. Shall I get him?"

"No! Just…you. Must…tell…you!"

"Please do not try to speak," she begged tearfully. "You must stay quiet now."

"No! Listen to me," he insisted, struggling to make himself understood. "You…do some-phing – now. Right away…now!"

"Yes, Father, anything; but please you must not excite yourself this way!"

Panting from his efforts, Mr. Bennet pressed on. "A paper in library - floor. You…find it…now. No one else! No…one! Burn it! Do not read. Do not speak of it. No one must know. You must…you must -"

"Yes, yes - I shall, right away; but please, Father, calm yourself."

Dr. Heaton's return ended the conversation and Jane quickly excused herself, anxious to ease her father's agitation as soon as possible. She hurriedly descended the stairs and slipped into the library unnoticed. Inside, the eerie silence of the room revived those first horrible moments when she had seen her father sprawled on the floor, and the tears flowed once again. Brushing the wetness from her cheeks, she forced herself to concentrate on the purpose of her errand. With a determined air, her eyes passed over the sword lying on her father's desk and searched the floor for the paper that had made her father so anxious.

It did not take long to discover the single sheet of paper lying against the bottom edge of the bookcase. Jane snatched it up and ran to the fireplace, laying it on the grate with trembling hands. Stirring the embers from the morning fire, she found a small lump of coal that still glowed faintly and positioned it beneath the grate. Gently she breathed on the ember, until it flared to life. She blew a shaky breath again and again, forcing the tiny flame upward until it licked the edge of the letter. In another moment, the letter burst into flame. Watching the paper twist and curl in the heat, Jane gasped when she glimpsed the words "our secret love" as the letter was consumed.

As soon as the fire died out, Jane stirred the last bit of burnt paper to unrecognizable ashes. Doing her best to hide her astonishment at what she had seen and its implication, she hurried back to her father's room. Dr. Heaton looked up from his work when she entered and gave a reassuring smile before silently turning back to the task of packing his small black physician's box. Cautiously, Jane sat down next to her father. The lightest touch of her hand on his arm was enough to open his eyes.

"Did you…was it…" Mr. Bennet glanced furtively at the doctor as he struggled to speak.

"Yes, Father. I have done as you asked," she answered softly.

"Good. Very good," he sighed, relaxing into his pillow.

"He probably does not make much sense right now. I have given him something to help him sleep," explained Dr. Heaton. "He needs rest more than anything else at this point, but you may stay if you wish, Miss Bennet. Please send for me right away if there are any changes."

By the time the doctor gathered his things and made his departure, Jane's father was sleeping soundly. She remained by the bed, sitting in the gathering darkness for some time. At last she rose from her chair and wandered to the window, the clock in the hallway chiming the hour as she stretched the stiffness from her shoulders.

She stared at the nearly-full moon hanging in the night sky and wondered, Where are you, Lizzy? She had gone looking for her father to get directions so that she might write to her sister and now everything was changed. Her beloved father was desperately ill and the mystery of the burned letter and its shocking contents weighed heavily on her mind.

Laying her head against the window casing, she released a heavy sigh and shivered as clouds drifted across the sky, obscuring the moonlight.

"Oh, Lizzy, you must come back. We need you – I need you!"

Mrs. Pennwyth stared thoughtfully at the letter on her table. The hand was elegant and obviously a woman's. It was curious. In the twenty years her husband had worked as steward for the Bennet family and the five years since his death, she had never known William Bennet to be so secretive as he was the day he made her promise to tell no one of the letters that would pass through Granley Cottage.

Whatever his reasons, it was none of her business what a gentleman did on the side, especially one married to a woman like Mrs. Bennet. Hearing a knock at the door, she placed the letter in the drawer of a side table, and hurried to answer it.

"John! It's good to see you, but I had thought to see Mr. Bennet today."

"Yes, Mrs. Pennwyth, I know; but Mr. Bennet won't be coming," he apologized, handing her a basket. "You have a nice cut of pork this week."

"I thank you, and I'm sorry for Mr. Bennet's absence. I hope all is well at Longbourn. Shall I see him next week?"

"No, ma'am. I don't think so. Mr. Bennet has taken ill."

"My goodness! What happened?"

"He was found collapsed in his library four days ago. Dr. Heaton was called in, and for a while it seemed Mr. Bennet was in a fair way of recovering; but during the night he took a turn. He is much worse and can't speak as could be understood."

"How terrible! Is it the end for dear Mr. Bennet, then?"

"We don't know. The doctor has done all he can. He says we have to wait and see. It's in God's hands now."

"Poor Mr. Bennet! Poor Mrs. Bennet and the girls!"

"It's a sad state of affairs all around, I say. Well, I best be getting back now, Mrs. Pennwyth. I bid you good day. "

"Yes, yes, of course!" she exclaimed, lost in her thoughts. "I thank you, John, for bringing the basket. It is most welcome, as always. Please convey my condolences to the family and do let me know of any more news."

Watching John turn down the lane, Mrs. Pennwyth returned to the side table and opened the drawer. Staring at the letter, she wondered aloud, "What am I do to with you now?"

"Well, Darcy, tell me," Bingley sat down across the breakfast table from his friend, "was it as bad as you thought it would be?"

"Good morning, Charles," Darcy smiled as he took another sip of coffee.

"I did try to smooth the way a bit. I sent a note to Caroline suggesting she moderate her, uh, sentiments during the journey. I know she can be quite trying at times."

"I appreciate the effort, but I am afraid it was ineffectual. Your sister scarce drew two breaths the entire time," Darcy smirked. He refrained from expressing his amazement at how one woman could talk so much and convey so little. "The journey was a little more than Georgiana expected. She has not had much experience with that level of conversation."

"Living with you, I can imagine not!" Bingley quipped good-naturedly.

"And what of you? Was your return to Hertfordshire as bad as you thought it would be?"

"I am pleased to say it was not. Everyone has been most cordial." Bingley's smile waned. "Miss Bennet seemed happy to see me; but there is a definite reserve in her manner and conversation. It is not quite the same as it was." He drew a quick, fortifying breath. "Understandable, I suppose, given the abrupt manner in which things ended last November."

"Yes, understandable," Darcy flinched at the reminder of the fruits of his interference, "but it sounds like she has not shunned you all together and you have made a good beginning. If you remain steadfast and prove your constancy to the lady, I believe you will be rewarded."

"It is not as simple as that. There are other circumstances that have complicated the matter." Bingley paused a moment as if unwilling to continue, then finished in a rush of words. "I discovered yesterday that Miss Bennet has been misled into believing I am romantically connected to your sister."

"What?" Darcy snapped. "How did she ever get such an idea?"

"Caroline," Charles replied flatly. "I gave my utmost assurances that it was not the case, but I am uncertain if Jane believes me."

Darcy let out an involuntary growl. "Bingley, I realize you have a certain duty to your sister, but you really must find a way to check her. I must be clear, I tolerate her less than desireable behavior toward me for the sake of our friendship; however, I will not allow it to extend to Georgiana – here or anywhere else. If your sister does not amend her ways, I shall be forced to withdraw Georgiana from her influence."

"I hope it will not come to that; but you are quite right, Darcy. I intend to speak with her this very morning and put a stop to all this nonsense."

Darcy eyed his friend skeptically. "I hope you can."

"She will – " Bingley began.

"She will what?" Caroline inquired as she swept into the room, giving Darcy a brilliant smile. "To whom are your referring, dear brother?"

"Good morning, Caroline, Louisa," Bingley greeted his sisters coolly. "I trust you slept well?"

"Yes, as well as can be expected in the country. Entirely too many twittering birds for my taste. You look so stern, Charles; apparently you did not sleep well."

"You are right, Caroline," Louisa pronounced solemnly. "He does look a little off this morning! Brother, you must allow me to have Mrs. Middleton make up a sleeping draught for you. It is one Mr. Hurst uses frequently, and I daresay it is most effective."

"That will not be necessary. I sleep quite well, thank you." Bingley was doing his best to stay in control of the conversation, but he was losing ground rapidly.

"Very well, but you really should try to get more rest. This mood does not suit you at all," Louisa observed lightly.

"No, it certainly does not," Caroline chimed in. "Perhaps Mr. Darcy can offer some advice on the subject. What do you say, Mr. Darcy?" she cooed sweetly.

Darcy threw his friend a meaningful glance – see what I mean? – and Bingley cleared his throat, forcefully bringing the conversation back to himself.

"When you are finished with breakfast, Caroline, I should like to have a private word with you in my study."

"I am so sorry, Charles. Louisa and I are going into Meryton this morning and I have a very busy schedule this afternoon. Perhaps after supper there would be time."

"No, Caroline. I will speak with you before Miss Bennet arrives for tea."

"Miss Bennet? Oh, dear, did I forget to tell you? I received a note this morning with her regrets. She will not be joining us for tea after all."

Bingley's countenance crumbled, his mission to curtail his sister instantly forgotten. "Not coming? Why? What did she say? Did she offer any explanation?"

"Hmm, let me see. I believe it had something to do with her father. He has a cold or something. Honestly, the Bennet family seems to have a peculiar susceptibility to ill health, do they not?"

Bingley soon left the room in a decidedly melancholy state and Darcy could barely contain his contempt for the superior sisters' callous disregard for their brother's feelings. With a barely polite "excuse me" he went in search of his friend.

He found Bingley sitting in his study, absently twisting a bit of paper in his fingers.

"I wish I had never come back to Hertfordshire! A lifetime of uncertainty would have been vastly preferable to this agony of certain rejection."

Darcy's presence did nothing to stir him from his stupor.

"A cold? Her father has a cold?!" he cried in anguish.

"Bingley, there may be other circumstances –"

"Yes, I am certain of that. She is decided against me. She does not wish for me to renew my addresses."

"You do not know for certain."

"Yes, I do. I could see her hesitation, but I pressed her anyway. She is too kind and sweet-tempered to reject me openly."

Both men fell silent and the air became thick with somber reflection. At length, Bingley heaved a great sigh.

"This is unbearable! I cannot stay at Netherfield another day. I shall leave for London this afternoon. Darcy, I am sorry to have caused you and your sister a wasted trip."

"It is not a wasted trip, my friend; but if Miss Bennet is as you say, then she cannot be so cruel as to dismiss you without a word. I urge you to wait a little longer and see if there is yet another misunderstanding."

"No, it is too late. Whatever affection she may have felt for me last November is gone."

"Think what you are doing!" Darcy declared. "Miss Bennet's sister was quite adamant on the point of her regard for you, and I cannot believe her feelings would be so easily changed. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by staying the week at least."

"Another week is out of the question. My presence only makes her uncomfortable!" Bingley replied morosely. "I will return to London on Sunday, as soon as we have been to church."

Chapter 8

Posted on September 21, 2009

At precisely seven o'clock, Elizabeth entered the breakfast room at Everton Manor with determined optimism.

"Good morning, sir. Miss Ballard, how are you this morning?" she greeted them cheerfully.

Rebecca's silent study of her plate did not go unnoticed by Lord Grissholm. When it became apparent there would be no response to Elizabeth's greeting, Grissholm lowered his paper and eyed the girl at the other end of the table. "Rebecca, I believe Miss Bennet has addressed you."

"Good morning, Miss Bennet. I am well, thank you," she replied tersely and then put another bite of eggs into her mouth, chewing very slowly.

It was painfully obvious there would be no conversation from either end of the table this morning.

Sighing to herself, Elizabeth sat down a little disheartened. This morning's exchange was essentially the same as every other morning since her arrival two weeks previous. The oppressive silence as they ate was broken only by the sounds of knife and fork upon china, and Lord Grissholm turning the pages of the London Times. For her two tablemates, it seemed to be an acceptable arrangement, but for Elizabeth, who was accustomed to lively conversation and energetic exchanges between her sisters, it was a trying ordeal. Lord Grissholm was as aloof as Rebecca was shy. It seemed an impossible situation but she was not about to give up.

"My Lord," Elizabeth began, watching Rebecca's sullen expression. "Mrs. Moore tells me there is a trunk containing art supplies in the storage room. Would it be possible to have it taken down and brought to the morning room for our use?" She was rewarded with the faintest flicker of interest in the girl's face.

"What do you want with art supplies?" he barked from behind his paper.

"I have seen a few of Miss Ballard's sketches and I thought perhaps she would enjoy expanding her talents."

"It is a waste of time," he snapped.

"Indeed, sir," Elizabeth's eyebrow rose. "I should think it good use of time for any accomplished young lady to pursue whatever talent she may have, be it pianoforte or needle and thread – or paint and canvas."

After a long moment, Lord Grissholm lowered his paper. "I suppose it may be done. Just see that you do not indulge too much of her time in such a wasted endeavor."

Elizabeth wondered at his obvious dislike for the activity since she had observed many beautiful paintings adorning the walls of Everton, including one particularly charming watercolor collection in the east wing. Nevertheless, she was grateful for his consent for she hoped to use the 'wasted endeavor' to breach Rebecca's implacable wall of resentment.

The two young women spent the afternoon unpacking and inventorying the contents of the trunk. When it was finally emptied, Elizabeth straightened and surveyed the massive amount of supplies that had been concealed in the deceptively small trunk.

"I think that is the extent of the secrets of this chest," Elizabeth announced cheerfully, placing the last packet of paint on the table and sweeping an errant lock of hair from her face. "What shall we do with our treasures?"

Rebecca was silently straightening the stack of sketch books in front of her. Elizabeth could see the girl struggling against an obvious desire to paint. Would this gambit be enough to win Rebecca over, to break down the barrier and provide an opportunity to prove she could be trusted?

"We have charcoal, watercolor, oil paint, and – I believe this is more charcoal," Elizabeth offered.

"I would like to try watercolors," came the quiet reply.

"That is an ambitious endeavor, indeed!"

"Perhaps not, then," Rebecca answered quickly, retreating behind her resentment once more.

"Not at all! I am only praising your courage for attempting such a difficult medium," exclaimed Elizabeth. It would not do to lose what little ground she had just won. She smiled encouragingly. "Have you worked with watercolor before?"

"Only a little," Rebecca replied curtly.

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Rebecca spoke again, exhibiting the first real effort to converse since Elizabeth had come to Everton.

"A few years ago, Mrs. Holiby invited a gentleman from a nearby estate to give me lessons; but they did not last long. When the viscount found out, he sent him away immediately." Rebecca's keen disappointment played on her face. "The supplies were packed away and I never knew what happened to them until today."

"Well, you shall have another opportunity. I am not a proficient at painting by any means, but as with any endeavor, I believe practice will bring accomplishment. We can do it together. Based upon your previous instruction, where do you recommend we begin?"

"It helps to have an example to look at while you work," she offered tentatively. "There is a painting I admire very much."

"And which one would that be?" Elizabeth smiled with excitement.

"It is part of a collection in the east wing – a small watercolor of wild violets."

Elizabeth knew exactly the one Rebecca was describing for it was her favorite of the collection as well. "An excellent choice, Miss Ballard. We shall begin at once!"

Triumphantly she started for the east wing to retrieve the painting. She was almost out the door when Rebecca's quiet voice stopped her.

"Thank you, Miss Bennet." Her shy smile was the first Elizabeth had ever seen.

"You do not have to thank me for anything, my dear. It is his lordship's trunk and his condescension that brings it to us."

"But it...it was you who made the suggestion and pursued it when he would have refused," Rebecca stammered with some embarrassment. "I am very grateful."

"Well, you are quite welcome," Elizabeth gave her a small bow and left the room. As she made her way to the east wing, she silently rejoiced. Thanks to you, Mrs. Moore, we have a good beginning, a very good beginning, indeed!

Quietly slipping into the room, Elizabeth had nearly reached the small painting when she realized she was not alone. As she skirted a tall wing-back chair oddly placed away from the rest of the room's furniture, she could not help a startled Oh! from escaping when she saw Lord Grissholm looking back at her. His own startled expression immediately turned to cool indifference, but not before she glimpsed an expression of deep sorrow in his dark eyes.

"Your Lordship! I beg your pardon. I thought the room to be empty or I would have never dreamt of invading your privacy."

"Do no concern yourself, Miss Bennet," he said, rising. "I was just leaving."

"Please stay! Do not let me disturb you. I can come back later."

"As I have already stated, my business is finished. But now that you are come, you will save me the trouble of finding you. There is a particular matter I would speak to you about. Sit, please," he said, motioning to the chair in which he had been sitting.

Elizabeth sat down, noting the slightly worn arms which could only have come from much use. She looked at her employer, and noticed on the wall directly behind him, the very watercolor that she had come to retrieve. In fact, from where she sat, there was an excellent view of all the watercolors in the collection; but she had little time to reflect upon that observation as it was forced from her thoughts the moment Lord Grissholm began speaking.

"Miss Bennet, I would like to address the matter of your wardrobe."

"My wardrobe?" she was astonished at his interest in so private a matter.

"Yes. I find it wholly inadequate."

"I beg your pardon! I find my wardrobe quite adequate and, frankly, none of your concern," she cried, cheeks aflame with embarrassment and mortification that she would be compelled to defend herself on such a charge.

"It is my concern. Your current apparel may have served you well as the daughter of a country gentleman, but you are now elevated in company and it simply will not do."

"Oh, I see. I was under the impression that I was employed as Miss Ballard's companion, not a fashion plate. Was I mistaken?" she cried, lifting her chin in challenge.

Her sudden anger kindled his own. "You are required to accompany my ward in whatever social engagements I choose to accept on her behalf. You will find yourself in company decidedly above what you are accustomed to. While I cannot alter your status as companion, I can do something about your appearance."

"That, sir, is impossible! I cannot accept any assistance as regards my person from a man so wholly unconnected to me, employer or otherwise!"

"It is merely an extension of my duty to my ward," he replied tightly. "I cannot have her appearance in society looked upon as anything but impeccable; and you, madam, are found wanting. I insist you not be difficult in this matter."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to object, but in that moment Wickham's words came back to her… "should you prove to be difficult in any way…" Furious at her inability to control her circumstances, she realized she would have to accept the arrangement or risk everything she had achieved so far. Still, she could not bring herself to capitulate completely.

"Perhaps I need not accompany Miss Ballard so frequently. My presence could be limited sufficiently so as to not require this objectionable arrangement."

"Miss Bennet, you will conform to my orders as I have expressed; or do you wish to terminate your employment?" he demanded, knowing full well that she could not.

"Very well, sir, I see I shall have to abide by your wishes – when we are in company," her eyes flashed angrily. "Pray tell, am I or am I not at liberty to dress as I see fit when we are not?"

"If we are not in company, you may dress as you please," his eyes swept her form critically before turning away in rare frustration. He should have realized from the spirited nature of her arrival that it would not be easy to enforce his will with this woman. Her wardrobe was, in fact, satisfactory; but the last few days had found him wondering what she would look like in more elegant attire. Any other woman would have been delighted and flattered by his attention. Why was this one being so difficullt. "Mrs. Moore has made arrangements for the modiste to come this Thursday. Please arrange your schedule accordingly. You may select the styles, but know that I will review them before the order is placed."

"Are you quite finished?" she was furious.

"I am for now," he drawled indifferently. "You may go."

Elizabeth managed to maintain her composure while in the room, but as she reached the hallway, she exploded with fury and humiliation at having been subjected to this man's blatant examination. Gathering her senses long enough to send a footman with her excuses to Rebecca, she retreated to her room and flung herself onto the bed.

Hateful, hateful man! How could she have gotten herself in such a position! She who had always prided herself on independence and self-reliance was now subject to the whims and fancies of an arrogant, controlling man like Lord Grissholm!

Rolling onto her back, she stared at the ceiling and allowed her tears to flow unchecked. She missed her simple, unaffected life in Hertfordshire. She missed her father and she missed Jane, terribly. She had come here for Jane's sake, and for her happiness she would endure a thousand insulting interviews with the pretentious Lord Grissholm; but she had no idea if her efforts were doing any good or not. Are Jane and Mr. Bingley engaged by now? Has Father managed to keep Lydia from Mr. Wickham? A fresh wave of anguished tears sprang to her eyes. Why have I not had any reply to my letters by now?

Chapter 9

The pews of the little church were filled to capacity, making the warm summer morning even more so. The frequent stares and not so quiet whispers circulating throughout the congregation only added to Darcy's growing discomfort. He stretched his neck to ease the strangling heat and gave Georgiana a small smile of encouragement. Could a simple church service be any more uncomfortable? At least it was nearly over and they would soon be on their way to Pemberley.

Meryton's portly, soft-spoken rector had finally come to the end of his very long sermon, which clearly had been written to astound his distinguished visitors, and he was now looking pensively into the faces of his parishioners.

"In closing, I will make short mention of the Bennet family. As you all know, the collapse of their beloved father is a great calamity in their lives. Mr. Bennet has shown little improvement as yet and his wife and daughters face a terrible uncertainty in the days to come. Let us pray for them."

An assenting murmur ran through the crowd and the congregation quickly bowed their heads – all except for one. A thoroughly stunned Charles Bingley lifted his eyes to his sister with growing horror as the comprehension of Jane's circumstances became clear. For her part, Caroline sat listening to the prayer with all the piety of a perfect innocent.

Barely a breath after the final amen, Bingley was out the door of the church, leaving the rest of his party to make their own way home. Following after him, Darcy emerged from the church in time to see his friend striding angrily away. As Charles turned the corner and disappeared, Darcy caught sight of an expression that he had seen only once before in his study at Burnham House.

"Well!" Caroline huffed as she met up with Darcy. "I cannot say what has got into Charles."

"Whatever it is, I dare say he will get over it soon enough," Louisa smirked. "He always does."

"Perhaps it was something said in church," Darcy replied dryly. "We were under the impression that Mr. Bennet was not so very ill as the parson seems to think."

"Oh, I cannot see why that would matter now," Caroline dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. "We are leaving, or at least we shall when Charles has gotten over his little tantrum."

Nothing more was said during the short ride back to Netherfield. Upon their arrival, Darcy quickly got out of the carriage and offered his assistance to the ladies. He tried his best to ignore the conspiring, artful smile playing on Caroline's face as she was handed out, but she seemed intent on drawing him into her victory.

"The important thing is, we have triumphed once again, Mr. Darcy, have we not?"

"WE have not done anything, Miss Bingley; and I beg you would not connect me to anything you imagine you have done. Please excuse us, my sister wishes to freshen up before we dine."

Caroline Bingley stormed into her brother's study in a fit of pique. There were a million things to be done before they could leave. There had better be good reason for Wilson's irksome persistence in summoning her here. Two steps into the room, she stopped short at the sight of her brother. His nervous pacing was nothing new, to be sure, but his earlier expression had now grown into one of searing anger, and that was something altogether unexpected. Whatever it was, though, it would have to wait. She had no time to soothe his ruffled feathers now.

"Charles, what, pray tell, is so important that you have to interrupt my duties – and why have you stopped the preparations for closing the house? You really are being quite difficult, you know."

Bingley offered no courtesies. "Sit down, Caroline."

"I really do not have time for this right now."

"I said – Sit Down!"

His piercing glare forced her into the chair which had been placed in the center of the room. Warily she watched as he circled around her. I have never seen him like this! What ever is the matter with him? His temper seemed to increase with each passing moment, but he did not speak. Quite put out with his officious manner, she didn't wait for him.

"All right, I am sitting down. Now will you kindly explain yourself?"

"No, I will not. You are the one who needs to explain herself, Caroline!"

"Me? I have no idea what you are talking about; and I do not like the way you are speaking to me," she snapped impatiently.

His voice became dangerously quiet. "What exactly did Miss Bennet say in her note to you?"

An expression of guilt spread across her face as she realized where the conversation was going, but she would not give him the satisfaction of confessing.

"Why – I believe she said she could not accept the invitation because her father had fallen ill. A cold or something of that nature."

"Something of that nature?!" he cried in furious amazement. "The man collapsed with apoplexy; and you have the audacity to sit there and tell me he had a cold?! Did you really think you could keep this from me? This is too much, Caroline, even for you!"

"I did it for you – for us!" she hissed. "You are so infatuated with that woman that you cannot see the reprehensible connection for what it is. Their relations are in trade for heavens' sake!"

"Our father was in trade," he countered angrily. "I should shake some sense into that conceited, arrogant little brain of yours. Trade is the source of our fortune; or have you forgotten that?"

"We are different," she sniffed. "We are not engaged in trade now. We don't associate with those people. And besides, what makes you so sure that Miss Bennet's father is so terribly ill? The report could have been exaggerated."

"There is no exaggeration. I have made inquiries as to the exact nature of his condition and it is grave indeed. How could you deceive me and allow Miss Bennet to think me a shallow, hard-hearted villain?"

"Charles, can you not see how ridiculous this is? Her family and connections are barely acceptable now; if her father dies, they would become intolerable. The estate is entailed and she would be penniless. Knowing the man's condition will not change the facts."

"No, but it will change Miss Bennet's opinion of me. It will allow me to offer whatever support I can as she and her family face this dreadful time. And that is exactly what I am going to do, dear sister – with your help."

"Oh, no! Absolutely not!" she sneered angrily. "I refuse to be any part of your idiotic pursuit."

"Oh, yes! You will assist me!'

"I will not!" she spat.

She began to fear her defiance had fueled his anger beyond reason, but she would not back down. Her own future depended upon it.

"Caroline, you will do exactly as I say or suffer the consequences."

"I shall not do anything that would in the slightest way encourage your attachment to Jane Bennet. Depend upon it!"

"Very well," he replied stiffly, "then I suggest you finish packing immediately."

"That is exactly what I intend to do. The sooner we leave here, the better!"

"Not WE, Caroline, YOU. Since you are dead set against my intended pursuit of Miss Bennet's affections, I shall ease your distress by removing you from Netherfield."

"What?" she fumed. "This is absurd! I am your sister, I –"

"Precisely. If you cannot support my position as head of this family, you shall not remain under my roof nor shall you receive another penny from me. Perhaps our cousin's widow will welcome you in Scarborough. I would be happy to write her," Bingley offered.

"You are bluffing!"

Without hesitation, he moved swiftly to the door and swung it wide. "Wilson! Wilson!" As the surprised butler appeared in the doorway, Bingley locked eyes with his sister. "Wilson, have Miss Bingley's trunks brought down immediately and tell Rochester we shall want post horses as soon as may be. My sister is taking a trip."

Caroline jumped from her chair and faced her brother with a fury of her own, only stopping herself when she saw the butler's impassive but attentive look.

"We need not be so hasty, Charles," she smiled persuasively. "I am sure these matters merit further discussion."

"There is nothing more to be said."

"But this house, you cannot possibly manage without me to – "

"Mrs. Middleton is quite capable, I am sure."

Caroline swallowed hard. She could not let him send her off to Scarborough to be a pauper, dependent upon that insipid Mary Ashworth for her daily bread! Yet, the very idea of welcoming Jane Bennet as a sister, of accepting her as the new mistress of the house was repugnant. To have Mrs. Bennet and all those sisters as frequent guests, even permanent residents should the father die, was equally distasteful. But she had no choice.

A breach with Charles would put London society beyond her reach, unless Louisa could be persuaded to secure a place for her in Mr. Hurst's home; and that was not likely to happen. Certainly her connection to Mr. Darcy and any chance of claiming his fortune and standing in society would be lost. Indeed, chances for any advantageous marriage would all but disappear. I cannot allow it! she thought frantically, she would not be reduced to a miserable life of exile and penury, not if she could help it.

"Perhaps Mrs. Middleton is capable," she said at last, giving Charles her sweetest smile, "but she would not suffice should you want to invite any particular young lady to Netherfield. And I would be a much better hostess than I ever was on past occasions. I would certainly welcome whomever you invite, Charles. Surely you would not want me to leave now?"

Wincing at the triumphant smile her groveling had put on her brother's face, Caroline assumed a more customary manner and silently resolved to capitulate only to the extent that would secure her comfort.

"You may leave us, Wilson. My plans have changed."

Wilson looked to Bingley, a new respect for his master reflected in his eyes, and received an approving nod. Retreating from an obvious field of battle, the butler backed out of the room and closed the door with a slight smile. The young man had finally asserted himself as master of his own house.

"Very well, Caroline, it is time for you to show how welcoming you can be," Bingley said marching her to his desk where pen and paper were laid out.

Feeling her brother's constant presence at her back, Caroline composed an elegant note to Jane Bennet expressing regret (deep regret, Bingley insisted) at hearing the news of Mr. Bennet's illness and conveying a sincere hope for his recovery. Reluctantly following her brother's explicit direction, she urged Jane (most earnestly, he insisted) to let her and her brother be of some assistance in this most difficult time. After two false starts and only one correction where Caroline was less than complimentary, the letter was concluded with a renewal of the invitation to tea, if Mr. Bennet's health would allow.

Wordlessly taking the letter from Caroline's outstretched hand, Bingley opened the door and placed it in the hands of Mr. Wilson, instructing him to send it right away.

Fortified by his success, Bingley turned back to his sister's brooding figure, "Now go get Louisa. I have further matters to discuss with the both of you."

"What luck, Jane! To have been invited to Netherfield again. You know I was very hopeful for you when Mr. Bingley first returned, but then after your father's unfortunate illness, I lost all expectation. And now Miss Bingley has once again invited you to tea! Her letter is so warm and affable. I do believe she must favor you as a match for her brother. Oh, I knew your beauty and goodness would be to your advantage some day."

"Mama, I cannot go. Father is still so very ill."

"Nonsense! You shall go. Would you refuse Miss Bingley again? I think not. It has been days since your father first took ill, and except for the one turn, he has not changed a bit these five days. Kitty can sit with him one night. You must go and encourage Mr. Bingley, my dear."

Jane was horrified. "Mother! I cannot! It is not fitting for me to accept a social engagement. Not at a time like this."

"Oh, yes you can – and you shall. You must look to your future, dear – all our futures. If your father takes another turn, I am sure I do not know what we shall do. The Collins' would claim the estate in an instant and we would all be turned out in the hedgerows with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Would you have that on your conscience?"

Jane looked down at her plate, desperate to escape the obligation of having to answer, to escape the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

Mr. Bennet's condition had not worsened since the second attack; but neither had he improved. The doctor had done all he could and now only time would reveal the outcome. The uncertainty weighed on them all. She knew her mother was driven by desperation, but the calculated disregard for propriety was too much. Jane could not make a social call with her father so ill, yet her mother seemed determined to force just such a thing.

Adding to her concerns was the contradiction of Caroline Bingley. Last January's abrupt, barely-civil visit to Jane at the Gardiner's home in Cheapside was in direct opposition to the warm, gracious words contained in the invitation now lying beneath her mother's hand. Could she dare hope there was a sincere change of heart?

And what of the brother? A long, deep pang of sorrow pierced Jane's heart. There had been no response to her note explaining why she could not come to tea, and the silent days that followed had cast serious doubt on the true nature of Mr. Bingley's sentiments. Her fears were further validated by her Aunt Phillips' report just this morning of Netherfield being closed up again. If she were to be honest with herself, she would acknowledge that Mr. Bingley no longer cared for her. To accept Caroline Bingley's invitation would be devastating.

"I cannot do this. Please do not insist," she implored her mother with every feeling she had.

"But indeed, I do, my dear, I do insist!" Mrs. Bennet cried, choosing to ignore her daughter's panicked expression. With eager anticipation she looked out the window, observing the weather, and was instantly disappointed. "What a shame it is a lovely day, for if it would rain, mayhap we could contrive to have you stay over again. Well, we shall just have to think of something else."

Very grateful to be out of the heat, Jane handed her gloves and fur-lined pelisse to the footman at Netherfield's front door and followed Mr. Wilson down the cool, dark hall. Although Mr. Bingley's carriage had afforded some shelter from the bright June day, it was not enough to relieve the discomfort of the heavy velvet gown she wore. Dabbing at the moisture on her brow, she fervently hoped her mother's ambitions for a fainting spell would not come to pass. It would not matter in any case, she told herself stubbornly. He no longer cares. I will stay only as long as politeness dictates and then leave. Hesitating at the door now held open by Wilson, Jane tried to minimize her flushed appearance then took a deep breath and entered the sitting room.

Caroline was the first to see her, and by the amused exchange that passed between Mr. Bingley's two sisters, Jane knew instantly that her wilted stated could not be overlooked. Mr. Darcy was kind enough to ignore her appearance and merely offered a small bow.

Casting a quick glance in Mr. Bingley's direction, Jane fully expected to be met with polite indifference, at best; but to her great astonishment, he seemed genuinely happy to have her standing in his parlor – even in her wretched state. She had little time to contemplate this latest Bingley contradiction, however, as Caroline quickly captured her arm and drew her further into the room.

"Miss Bennet! It is so good of you to come."

"I am happy to accept your hospitality, Miss Bingley. I hope I have not kept you waiting."

"No, no, not at all! What a lovely gown you are wearing, my dear. I believe I have never seen velvet in June."

"I must confess, I had not expected it to be quite so warm today," Jane replied, the redness in her face deepening.

"It IS June, my dear, and - "

"And a beautiful day at that, is it not, Darcy?" Bingley threw his sister a warning glance as he neatly turned the conversation.

"Yes, Bingley, it is." Darcy agreed heartily. "Very similar to Derbyshire this time of year. I think my sister would agree. Miss Bennet, may I be permitted to introduce you to her?"

Sister? Jane blinked in surprise. It was then she noticed the girl standing just behind him. "I would be honored, Mr. Darcy."

Bingley joined Darcy and Georgiana as the introduction was accomplished. After a brief exchange between the two ladies, he followed Jane and took a seat beside her on the chaise lounge as Caroline began to pour.

Momentarily flattered by Mr. Bingley's attention, Jane had to remind herself of his impulsive nature and was determined that she would not allow him to trifle with her again.

"Miss Bingley, I hope you do not think me ungrateful, but with our circumstances at home, I really cannot stay long."

"Yes, of course. I understand completely," Caroline's smile was a bit too smug. "I would not think of keeping you from your father's side."

"Miss Bennet," Bingley exclaimed nervously. "Please allow me to offer my condolences on your father's ill-health. Until Sunday, I had not known the nature of his illness. May I ask, has he made any improvement?"

"Sunday?" Jane looked to Caroline and her puzzlement faded with understanding as she saw the blank expression on Caroline's face. "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Bingley. He has neither improved nor worsened since the second attack."

"A second attack? I am very sorry! Is there anything I can do? May I send for my doctor? He is very good."

"I thank you, no. That will not be necessary. My father is resting comfortably at present. We have only to wait and see. My mother has been greatly affected and keeps to her room most of the day, but my sisters and I are managing."

"It must be a great comfort having so many sisters to share your burden," Mrs. Hurst remarked with little sincerity.

"And I remember Miss Eliza being quite attentive when you took ill during your visit to Netherfield last year," Caroline added. "She must be a great comfort to you."

"My sisters are most helpful and we are doing well enough; however, my sister, Elizabeth, is not at Longbourn."

"Miss Eliza not at Longbourn?" Caroline pounced on the news with pleasure. "Pray tell us, Miss Bennet, what could she be thinking to go away at a time like this?"

"Oh, she does not know. Elizabeth received an invitation to travel with a distant relation for the summer. She was already gone when our father took ill."

Bingley tried to ease her obvious distress. "I know that you and Miss Elizabeth are very close. It must be very difficult for you to have her gone."

"Will her absence be long?" Caroline wickedly pursued the subject. "Louisa and I were just this morning remarking on how much we were looking forward to seeing her again."

"Unfortunately, the irregular nature of her travels has made it difficult to communicate. We have not exchanged letters as yet and thus cannot effect a speedy return."

Mr. Darcy's tone was somber as he seated Georgiana across from Jane, choosing not to sit himself. "I am sorry for your difficulty, Miss Bennet. My sister and I hope that Miss Elizabeth may return soon, for your benefit and that of your family. My sister had hoped to make her acquaintance during our visit. Perhaps there will be another time."

"Yes, perhaps so. I am sorry for your disappointment, Miss Darcy."

Georgiana smiled shyly at Jane. "Having the pleasure of your company today, Miss Bennet, I eagerly await the opportunity of meeting your sister. I have heard so much about her, and I hope our meeting shall not be long in coming."

Caroline fairly seethed with vexation at the attention Elizabeth managed to garner from Mr. Darcy and his sister without even being in the room. One sister was bad enough, but two of them was intolerable!

Jane stayed above an hour before rising to take her leave. Mr. Bingley's attentions to her during the visit had been pleasing, and his behavior more admiring than ever, but she was resolved to keep her emotions in check. After the disappointment of his departure last November, his recent plans for another abrupt departure without explanation or farewell struck her with tremendous force. She could not think so ill of him as to believe him a rake, but clearly he was of an unsteady character; not a man she could trust, no matter what her heart tried to tell her.

Happy to see the end of a very long day, Darcy opened the door to his rooms and finally allowed his thoughts free reign.

As Denham silently assisted in removing the layers of clothing, Darcy considered the events of the day. Jane Bennet had accepted the invitation to tea, yes; but her visit had been marked by a change in her manner toward Bingley that even he could see. She was more reserved and cautious than he had ever seen her – even months ago, when he thought her indifferent. With every fiber of his being, he prayed that it was not too late for his friend.

Having finished the nightly ritual, Denham bid his master a good-night and disappeared through the servant's door. Darcy stood in his dressing gown and considered the inviting chair and decanter of brandy that had been set out. With a small smile, he acknowledged Denham's uncanny ability to anticipate his needs, sometimes even before he knew them himself. Although knowing his valet's purpose behind the gesture was to soothe the effects of an evening with Caroline Bingley, it was with thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet that Darcy took up the glass and filled it, unsure if his inner turmoil was caused by relief or disappointment. Only after the brandy had taken effect did Darcy allow himself to examine his most painful thoughts – where did Elizabeth go and, more importantly, why?

Contemplation of her absence filled Darcy's head with more unanswered questions. Did she know of his coming to Netherfield? Was she purposely avoiding his company? He could not bear to consider the answers. He knew he should accept the finality this news demonstrated of his situation with Elizabeth, but his heart would not let him. Surely there was some way he could show her that he had changed, that he had listened to her objections of him and worked daily to improve his character in a way that she would approve.

Darcy filled the glass once more and took a long, contemplative sip. The once great desire to banish Elizabeth Bennet from his thoughts had long since been replaced with the knowledge that she would always be a part of him. His life had been changed for the better because of her. He did not believe it very likely he could ever claim her heart, but he did hope for her good opinion. He dreaded meeting her, yet the thought of never seeing her again was insupportable. He couldn't bear to think that she was in this world and thinking ill of him. He desired – he needed – her good opinion and he had to find a way of securing it.

For now, there was nothing more he could do in Hertfordshire. At breakfast he would tell Bingley of his plans to leave.

Chapter 10

Posted on September 25, 2009

The sound of Caroline Bingley's voice halted Darcy's step outside the breakfast room door. What was she doing up so early? He paused, debating the benefits of a good breakfast against the irritation of the woman's disagreeable temper which seemed to be only increasing.

"It is very rude of you to insist on my company, Charles. You did not insist on Louisa getting up at this unpleasant hour!"

"It is not Louisa who is being difficult, it is you; and you will do as I say."

"Jane Bennet was just here," Caroline forced herself to soften the edge in her voice. "We can wait a few days. Why must we go this morning – and at such an early hour? It is barely polite and certainly not fashionable!"

"Fashionable or not, we are going. It was obvious from Miss Bennet's visit yesterday that her situation is much worse than I had guessed – and you will kindly refrain from any more looks of that sort. I want her to feel she can count on us for any help she may need. I cannot do that without you."

"What good can I be? She was as distant to me as she was to you."

"Exactly. And that is why you will go and be as friendly and inviting as you can manage. You will give Miss Bennet every assurance of your friendship – and mine. Now finish your breakfast, the carriage is waiting."

Deciding he was not so hungry after all, and deeming a ride in the fresh air to be a better choice, Darcy headed for the stables. As he passed the staircase, he saw Georgiana coming down and halted his hurried steps. "Good morning, Georgie," he said, taking up her hand for a kiss.

"Good morning, Fitzwilliam. Where are you off to in such a hurry?" she asked lightly.

"I had thought to go for a ride; but now that you are here, I shall accompany you to breakfast. May I?"

He was not about to leave his sister alone with Caroline Bingley, not this morning. Gathering a fortifying breath, he gave Georgiana a broad smile and led the way back to the breakfast room.

"Good morning, Charles, Miss Bingley."

"Darcy! Miss Darcy! It is an excellent morning! I am sorry to be leaving you to yourselves, but Caroline and I were just about to make a call at Longbourn."

"Longbourn?" Georgiana asked with interest. "Is that not Miss Bennet's home?"

"Yes, yes it is," Caroline replied, her face lighting up with a sudden idea. "Would you like to join us? It is such an interesting place, what with all their girls. They have five, you know."

"Five girls?" Georgiana's eyes grew wide with wonder. "I cannot imagine. I should like to have had a sister."

And I should have liked to give you one, Darcy thought ruefully.

"May I go, Fitzwilliam?"

"If you like," Darcy smiled slightly and threw Bingley a look of annoyance.

"Yes, well…of course you may come, Miss Darcy; and Darcy, you must come too."

"Thank you, Bingley. I should like to accompany my sister."

"What a lovely party we shall be," cooed Caroline as she took Georgiana's arm and cast a sly glance to Darcy. "I cannot wait for you to meet the Bennet family, my dear. Mrs. Bennet is a particular delight."

Caroline ignored yet another look from her brother and idly gazed out the window of Longbourn's sitting room. Jane Bennet nervously cleared her throat, the sound of which was amplified in the heavy silence. To this point, the conversation had been painfully awkward and stilted. Darcy looked to his friend. Poor Bingley. While he had managed to get Caroline to accompany him on this visit, it was obvious she was not about to hand Jane Bennet to him on a silver platter. At least there was not the added difficulty of Mrs. Bennet, who was keeping to her room, or the two youngest Bennet girls who had already gone into Meryton before the party from Netherfield arrived.

For himself, Darcy was relieved that his sister's first introduction to Elizabeth's sisters was limited to Jane and Mary. He could find no fault in Jane; and, upon closer acquaintance, discovered Mary to be of a more temperate nature than he first thought. Her serious disposition was much more suited to Georgiana's natural shyness than the boisterous behavior often displayed by her younger sisters.

After another moment of the uncomfortable silence, Darcy decided he had better do something to rescue the situation before it became a complete disaster. It was then he noticed the small leather-bound volume lying in Mary's lap.

"Miss Mary, I see that you enjoy reading. May I inquire as to your present selection?"

"Y-yes, Mr. Darcy. I enjoy reading very much," Mary managed to say in her astonishment. "I am at present reading The Poetical Works of William Lisle Bowles. "

"An excellent choice. I very much enjoy Mr. Bowles' poetry, as does my sister."

"Oh, you are familiar with his works, Miss Darcy? I think he is not so popular as Mr. Cowper or Mr. Coleridge."

Georgiana's interest was engaged at once. "Indeed, I believe not; but I like him very much. I think my favorite of Mr. Bowles is his work titled 'To a Friend.' It reminds me of when my brother goes to town."

"I think you are referring to the opening line," replied Mary. "Let me see – here it is! 'Go, then, and join the murmuring city's throng!'"

"Yes!" Georgiana exclaimed with pleasure. "And then it goes on to say 'Me thou dost leave to solitude and tears.'"

"The fate of every young girl with only a brother to care for her," Darcy observed teasingly.

"But the ending is the best part of all, is it not, brother?" Georgiana smiled widely. "'…the glad hour I shall bless that shall restore thee from the crowd again, to the green hamlet on the peaceful plain.'"

"Yes, Georgiana, Pemberley is most assuredly peaceful, especially when compared to London!"

"That is our home in Derbyshire, you see," she leaned toward Mary in a conspiratorial whisper.

Pleased that Georgiana and Mary were at last conversing comfortably, Darcy turned his attention back to Bingley. His poor friend was trying hard not to show his frustration. Before leaving Netherfield, he had specifically instructed Caroline to contrive an opportunity for him to speak with Jane on a more personal level. With Mary the only real obstacle in the room, it was an easy enough task; but Caroline was making no effort to accommodate him. In fact, she was being as difficult as ever.

"Miss Bennet, it must be very demanding for you and your sisters to have your father so ill and your mother indisposed. Is there no one to help you?".

"It has been challenging for us, Miss Bingley," Jane admitted matter-of-factly. "However, as I said yesterday, we are managing well enough. Most of the daily work is well organized and runs its course; and my uncle has been very kind to advise us on the most pressing matters."

"Oh, yes, your uncle," Caroline smiled sweetly. "Would that be the attorney or the tradesman?"

"It is my uncle Gardiner from London – he is quite successful in his business, and has been a very great help these past weeks. I do not know what we would have done without him."

"You are very fortunate to have such a relation, Miss Bennet," said Bingley, giving his sister a meaningful glance. "It must be a comfort to know that you can depend upon your nearest relations for help and encouragement in time of need. Would you not agree, Caroline?"

"Of course, Charles, what would we be without families? They are a very great influence in our lives – and friends, as well. Do you agree, Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes, Miss Bingley, I do. Indeed, all parties benefit when influence is rendered in good faith. And the reverse is just as compelling."

"Why, whatever do you mean, Mr. Darcy?"

"Just that when the influence rendered is done for selfish reasons, all parties must suffer ."

"Yes, of course," Caroline agreed weakly.

Bingley eyed Caroline once again, attempting to remind her of his wishes; but her next words effectively ended any chance of his realizing them.

"Well, my dear Miss Bennet, I fear we have taken far too much of your time. You must have a busy day ahead of you," Caroline purred sweetly. She then rose to leave, ignoring Bingley's glaring stare. The required half hour was over and she had no intention of prolonging the visit another minute. "You must promise to call on us should you need anything – anything at all!"

Desperate to speak with Jane, Charles threw Darcy a wild, pleading look, but he was at a loss as how he could prolong their visit. With Caroline nearly half way to the door already, it would be very awkward indeed. Much to his surprise, however, the remedy came from a most unexpected source.

In the next moment, the door flew open and Mrs. Bennet rushed into the room with a great commotion, nearly running headlong into Caroline. Hiding her embarrassment in a quick adjustment to her shawl, Jane's mother curtsied to the visitors.

"My dear Mr. Bingley, and Miss Bingley! What a pleasant surprise! I was just this minute thinking what a wonderful thing it would be to have visitors when I spied your carriage out my window, and here you are!"

"Mrs. Bennet! I am very happy to see you!" Bingley replied most enthusiastically. "I do hope you are feeling better."

"Yes, thank you. I am much better now that you and your sister are come – and I see that you have brought Mr. Darcy as well," Jane's mother eyed him distastefully. "Well, as I have said, any friend of yours is welcome."

"I am glad for that, madam. Not only Mr. Darcy, but I have brought his sister, Miss Darcy, as well."

"Indeed. She seems to be an agreeable, genteel sort of person. I am sure that my Mary is good company for her," Mrs. Bennet pronounced, not noticing Georgiana's wide-eyed look at the offense she had given. Her full attention was centered on Bingley. "I must say, it is so good of you to come, sir. Our days are ever so dreary what with Mr. Bennet's misfortunes and all. But he is doing much better, and now we are ever so happy to have company, are we not, Jane?"

"Mama, our guests have been here this past half hour. They were just leaving."

"Leaving? Oh, heavens no! I would not hear of it. You must stay a little longer!"

"You are very kind," Caroline responded coolly, "but we really must be going."

"Surely you have a few moments to take a turn in the gardens, for our roses are in full bloom and it is a sight to behold," Mrs. Bennet applied to them all with an earnestness that could not be refused. "One turn would not delay you so very long."

"There you have it, Caroline. I believe we must take a few moments for such a delightful diversion," Bingley insisted.

"Very well, madam," his sister replied with the slightest of curtsies. "I find I cannot refuse such an enchanting offer."

The party removed to the garden, whereupon Mrs. Bennet proved herself to be as good as any scheming mama the ton had to offer.

"There is a particularly beautiful bed of roses just down this way. You must see it, I insist."

"Mama, must I go as well?" Mary complained. "I have seen them all before."

"No, no, of course not, Mary. What would I want you to see them for! But I will show our guests. Miss Bingley, Miss Darcy, will you come this way? I suppose you may come as well, Mr. Darcy."

"Mother, I can show them the way, if you like," Jane offered.

"What? Oh, no, my dear! I will show them the yellow roses and you must show Mr. Bingley the red roses down the other path. You would like to see the red roses, would you not, Mr. Bingley?"

"Of course, Mrs. Bennet, I would be delighted."

"There, you see? You two run along and I shall take the others this way. Take as much time as you like, Jane dear," Mrs. Bennet smiled encouragingly before herding everyone else away from the pair. Caroline looked back at Charles and Jane with concern.

"Mrs. Bennet, could we not all go together? I do prefer red roses to yellow ones," she asked lightly.

"My dear Miss Bingley! I think you shall change your mind once you have seen these yellow roses. Their color is perfection! Come and see for yourself if I am not right. They are very unlike anything you have ever seen, I dare say."

Unable to extricate herself without causing a scene, Caroline reluctantly allowed herself to be led in another direction, silently fuming at her failure to prevent the separation. Darcy took Georgiana's arm and dutifully followed, casting one last look in Bingley's direction.

Caroline and Mrs. Bennet! Surely this is penance enough for all the trouble I have caused you. You had better make the most of it while you can! He hoped it would be enough to set the two lovers on the path to happiness.

"Mr. Bingley," Jane made a graceful sweep with her hand, "shall we walk this way?"

"Certainly, Miss Bennet," he replied carefully.

Jane's heartbeat quickened as he stepped to her side and she frantically grasped for anything that would distract her traitorous feelings. "My mother was right, you know. The roses are very beautiful this year."

"Yes, I can see that; and quite right to be so generous in her praise. Your mother is in high spirits today." Seeing his words had caused her to blush, he quickly attempted to amend them. "That is to say...I only meant that she has not been brought so low with all your difficulties. I hope I…hmm…and how is your father?"

"He is a little better, thank you. The doctor tells us it is still too early to know for certain, but we have seen some improvement, which makes us very hopeful."

An awkward silence ensued, leaving many unspoken thoughts between them and neither party seeming to know how to continue. They walked a full quarter of the garden path in that manner. At length, Bingley gathered his courage.

"Miss Bennet," he began nervously. "I hope you do not think me too forward, but I cannot let what little time we have alone slip by without trying to gain some understanding. I should like to say I…I had come to believe you…that is, since my return, I had hoped you found my company agreeable. Am I mistaken?"

The obvious passion in his voice breached the reserve Jane had carefully crafted and she could not stop the bittersweet agony that stabbed at her heart. "I am uncertain as to how I should answer you, sir. You company was, at one time, very agreeable. Indeed, I once thought you everything a gentleman ought to be."

"Once? But not now?"

"As much as it disappoints me to say this, I must tell you I now find your company most difficult to bear."

"Difficult? Surely not! Until this past week, our conversations have been nothing but amiable – at Sir William's and even before. I felt it and I know you did too!"

"Mr. Bingley, I will speak plainly. I admit that I once found you agreeable, very much in fact. I allowed my foolish imagination to create expectations which would never be realized. Indeed, I am embarrassed to say there were many who had expectations. However, these past months have served to temper me."

"Miss Bennet, I know my behavior last November was reprehensible in your eyes; indeed, it was in mine as well. I can only say that my greatest mistake was in listening to those around me. When I left for London, I had every intention of returning – I truly did – but then I was persuaded to believe you had no regard for me."

"How could you?" she cried softly. "Did you not know me better than that?"

"I did! . . . or at least I should have. But I felt so. . .undeserving of you that. . . that when so much was said against the prospect of your having any feeling for me, I thought. . .perhaps it was true. That I had only imagined it to be so and that you could not possibly care for me."

"That makes it all the worse; that you would believe such a thing after all that had passed between us."

"It was only recently that I discovered I was persuaded wrongfully, and then I returned as soon as I could to try and make amends for my monstrous conduct. I can image what you must think of me and I deserve every reproach imaginable; but I beg of you; please forgive me."

"There was no explanation," Jane accused him softly. "Only one short note from your sister which gave me no hope of you ever returning. I was in London a full three months. I sent letters. I even called on your sisters. I was met with the barest civility at every turn. What was I to think?"

Bingley was in agony. "Oh, that I could undo these past months! Caroline was acting under a very great misunderstanding; one which has now been corrected. Please believe me when I say that I did not know you were in town or I would have made every effort to see you. Is not my presence here now proof of my sincerity? It was all a wretched mistake which I assure you would never happen again."

"I wish I could believe you, Mr. Bingley; but I am afraid I have only imagined you to be what I wanted, not what you truly are."

"You cannot think me so very bad! I have explained what happened!"

"Yes – and you have just assured me that such a thing would never happen again! But what of your current preparations to leave Netherfield? You played me for a fool once, sir, but I will not suffer it again!"

"I am not leaving! I mean – I was, but I am not now. Please do not dismiss me. It is all a terrible, terrible misunderstanding. When you did not come to tea the first time, I had thought you too generous to reject me openly. I admit I was ready to leave – not for my sake, but yours; to spare you any further discomfort."

"And in November – when you left me exposed to the ridicule of the entire neighborhood – was that to spare me as well?"

"No, of course not! And I am not leaving now. I only discovered the extent of your troubles on Sunday, and since that moment, I have made every effort to correct my error. Miss Bennet, I beg you to forgive my stupid manners. They were not intentional, not in the least."

Bingley fell silent beside Jane as they moved on, nearly completing the garden's outer circle. Jane marveled at what she hoped was his meaning. She did esteem him above any other man she had ever known, but could she depend upon him? She would not open her heart again without an absolute declaration of his love. She would not make the same mistake twice, for she knew her heart would not survive a second blow.

"I forgive you, Mr. Bingley, if indeed it is as you say; but I cannot tell you what lies ahead. As you see, our life here is met each day with a great deal of uncertainty. I cannot bear any more uncertainty right now. I am in desperate need of a steadfastness which I fear you cannot demonstrate."

"Miss Bennet, please allow me to - "

"Charles, there you are!" Caroline cried, coming around the corner with a gasp of relief. "We must go. Mr. Darcy and his sister are waiting at the carriage already."

"Caroline, can you not wait until I have finished my conversation with Miss Bennet?"

"I am sorry, but it cannot. I have the most dreadful headache. I fear I have taken in too much sun this morning."

"That is quite all right, Miss Bingley. I believe we are finished here."

Jane's emotions had been on the edge of collapse before Miss Bingley's sudden appearance; but now she held them in tight regulation as she escorted brother and sister to their carriage. Unable to look at him again for fear she would betray herself completely, Jane stood next to her mother and waved the visitors off until the carriage disappeared from view.

"Well, Jane! It is a good thing for you I found out Mr. Bingley had come in time to help you or he would have left without saying a word! Tell me, dear, what did he say? Did he express any particular interest?"

"Oh, Mother," was all Jane could manage before the tears she had struggled so hard to suppress spilled over, greatly surprising Mrs. Bennet.

"Jane! What has happened?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing!" she sobbed, then fled into the house leaving her mother to stare after her in bewilderment.

"I do not think billiards will do at present," Darcy surmised as he retrieved Bingley's ball from the floor for the third time. "And I cannot believe you are ready to break and run."

"What else am I to do?" Bingley moaned as Darcy placed the ball back on the table. "She has given me no hope."

"Was it an absolute rejection?"

"She did not say 'go away' exactly – she is far too kind for that – but she might as well have."

"What exactly did she say then?" Darcy pushed.

"She said she was 'in desperate need of a steadfastness which I fear you cannot demonstrate.' I tried to explain myself; to offer her my assurances, but Caroline interrupted us and I had no more opportunity. It was a wretched endeavor. You saw Miss Bennet when we left - she would not even look at me!"

"That is not a complete rejection, if any at all."

"Not a complete rejection? Darcy, she could not possibly have said it any plainer than that!"

"On the contrary, my friend," replied Darcy grimly. "She could have looked you straight in the eye and said: 'You are the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry!'"

"Darcy, do be serious – this is no time for jests! No woman would express herself as plainly as that. But the material point is clear nonetheless: she does not want me."

"She did not say that. She raised certain concerns, and surely you must see her point."

"Oh, yes, I see her point. I am a worthless will-o-the-wisp. Well, I will not stay where I am not wanted. We shall leave after all. That should make you happy, eh, Darcy?"

"No, Bingley, that will not make me happy. Do you see what you are doing? I have often said your impulsive behavior would be your undoing, and this time it truly shall. Miss Bennet hesitates for good reason. At a time you should remain steady, you are ready to run."

"I am not running," Bingley snapped sullenly. "She does not want me and, as such, it is pointless to remain here."

"But she DOES want you! That is the point, though she does an admirable job of concealing it. Consider her position. You have made a sudden departure once – nearly twice – and now you propose to do it again. To a young woman facing the uncertainties of a sick father and an entailed estate, it is a devastatingly poor showing of your steadfastness, especially at a time when she needs your support. I do not think even the stoutest of loves could prevail in such a case."

"What else am I to do? She made it very clear she was done with me. If only I had had the time to explain myself better."

"First, if you truly love her as you claim, you cannot leave. That would bring her fears to life and sound the death knell on your chances all in the same stroke. And secondly, do not count on your sisters to assist you in your quest. If anything, they pose a definite impediment."

"I know that now. Caroline knew my purpose for going to Longbourn and yet she was no help at all! I did not think I would ever say this, but I was very happy to see Mrs. Bennet today." Bingley's mouth curled into a bitter frown as he took aim at the balls on the table. "Well, I promised to send Caroline away if she could not support me. She has had her chance – several in fact – and her actions this morning decided her fate."

"What will you do with her?"

"I am sending her to Scarborough. I shall write to my cousin's wife this evening."

"And then?"

"I cannot say. If only I could speak with Jane again, I am certain I could change her mind," said Bingley, absent-mindedly lining up another shot.

"Speaking with her is not enough, my friend. It is not your love she doubts, but your steadfastness. That's what you must prove to her."

"Prove my steadfastness?" Bingley cried in frustration. "And how am I to do that?"

His cue struck with an unbridled force that sent the ball flying once again, this time finding ground at Darcy's feet. Bingley's question was left unanswered as Wilson appeared in the doorway, announcing that Miss Bingley and Miss Darcy were in the drawing room awaiting the gentlemen for tea.

Darcy donned his coat and followed Bingley out, grateful an immediate answer had not been required for he had absolutely no idea how such a thing was to be accomplished.

Chapter 11

Elizabeth sighed in exasperation. No matter how many times she tried, the colors simply refused to cooperate! It was a painfully telling contrast to Rebecca's painting. She watched with an appreciative eye as her companion added a wash of brilliant purple hues to the petals of a delicate flower.

"I am amazed at your talent, Miss Ballard. How ever do you do it?"

"I do not know, it just comes to me."

"Perhaps it is because you enjoy it so much. I believe you would sit here all day if you could."

"Perhaps. I know that when I am painting or drawing, nothing else matters. Mrs. Holiby was very good to let me do it more than I probably should have."

Elizabeth caught the note of sadness in the girl's voice and looked up in time to glimpse a pained expression before it was quickly smoothed over. Great strides had been made in the past week to coax Rebecca out from behind her wall of quiet hostility, but there was still a long way to go.

"You must feel Mrs. Holiby's absence keenly. I am truly sorry she was sent away."

"I know," Rebecca said softly without looking up. "It was not your fault. I am sorry for blaming you. It was just so unexpected and I was lost without her."

"She had been with you a long time then?"

"From the very first day Lord Grissholm brought me to Everton…but I guess you know all that."

"No, I have not been told much of anything, and I do not mean to pry. You need not speak of it if it makes you uncomfortable."

"It is all right. I should like to tell you – it is nice to have someone to talk to again."

Elizabeth smiled encouragingly. "Then you may say as much as you like and I shall listen."

Rebecca added a few more details to her flower before continuing. "I became an orphan when I was seven, and came here to live. Mrs. Holiby cared for me like a mother. She was much more than a governess to me, she was my family. When she was sent away so suddenly, I could only see that you had taken her place."

"I am so very sorry for your loss – for Mrs. Holiby and your family. Lord Grissholm was wrong to be so cruel. Is he a friend of the family? Is that why you are his ward?"

"Actually, I do not know what the connection is. I only remember that my family all died in a dreadful fire. Several families perished in the flames, and it was a miracle that I escaped with very little injury."

"Lord Grissholm must have some connection for him to take you in as he did."

"I asked him once, right after he brought me here; but he became so angry and frightening that I never dared mention it again."

Elizabeth returned to her own painting more puzzled than ever. Why would a single man of Lord Grissholm's temper take the responsibility of rearing a seven-year-old child? And what exactly was Mr. Wickham up to? Rebecca was without fortune, which made it very unlikely that Wickham was repeating the scheme he had attempted with Mr. Darcy's sister. As far as she could tell, Rebecca had never even heard of George Wickham. None of it made sense. Why had he been so insistent that she take up this particular post? It was all so strange!

With a slight shrug, Elizabeth pushed the puzzling questions aside. Until Rebecca felt more comfortable talking about such things, it was not likely she would find any answers.

The rest of their time was spent in comfortable silence, trying to replicate the small watercolor Elizabeth had borrowed from the east wing sitting room. At length Elizabeth declared their lesson at an end and made ready to return the painting. As she turned to leave, she was surprised by the arrival of the viscount.

"Ladies, I thought I would see what have you been doing this afternoon. Am I interrupting anything?"

"Not at all. We were attempting to give the venerable Mr. Lawrence some competition," Elizabeth offered lightly, "though Miss Ballard has a much better chance at it than I. She is very talented, is she not, sir?"

"What do you think you are doing?" he snapped, his pleasant manner instantly dissolving into icy reserve.

Elizabeth's eyes followed his to the painting in her hands. "We have been using this piece as a model for our lessons. It is an excellent example."

"Are you always in the habit of helping yourself to property that is not your own, Miss Bennet?"

"No, sir, I am not!" she bristled at the sudden attack. "I had not thought it important enough to bother you, but I certainly shall apply to you in the future should I feel a need to touch anything that is not expressly my own. Pray excuse me and I shall return it at once."

Without waiting for a reply, Elizabeth stormed from the room, hurt and angry. He might as well have accused me of stealing. How dare he! And to think I was beginning to consider him amiable. Obviously all his recent cordiality and good manners have been a pretense. I was right from the beginning – he is a dreadful man!

The time it took her to cover the distance to the east wing was enough to cool her anger somewhat and she was a little more calm when she reached the sitting room. Returning the picture to its place on the wall, she sighed wistfully and stepped back to admire it one more time. The picture had been an effective means of bringing her and Rebecca together, if only for a little while. Now she would have to find something else.

"You certainly are lovely," she murmured softly.

"Indeed," a low, admiring voice sounded from behind her.

She spun around to see Lord Grissholm standing in the doorway. Her cheeks flamed anew at the memory of his biting words and her brow rose archly in response to his open stare. "You need not worry, your Lordship. The painting is back in its place and I certainly shall not disturb it or anything else again."

"Allow me to apologize for my outburst, Miss Bennet."

"I beg your pardon?" Elizabeth blinked, astonished at yet another reversal of his manners. There was not a trace of the rage he had just displayed in the library.

"I am sorry for being so short back there. I was taken by surprise and should not have been so harsh," he smiled, coming forward to admire the paintings with her. "You could not have known the sentiments connected to these pieces nor my instructions regarding them."

"I see," she said, confused even more by his reverent tone. "Are they the work of your mother or a family member, perhaps?"

"No, they are the work of another. I am pleased that you like them, but I ask that you do not disturb them again."

"Of course, my lord. I should not think of it. Thank you for telling me."

Suddenly embarrassed by his too-close proximity, Elizabeth stepped back without seeing the footstool behind her. She gave a small cry as she lost her balance and fell backward. Only Lord Grissholm's swift reaction and solid arms saved her from a graceless tumble.

"Are you all right?" he looked her over, breathing in a lovely scent of lavender.

Yes, I believe so," she replied breathlessly.

"Quite sure? You did not hurt yourself?" he asked again, still holding her.

"Yes...I mean, no! I am not hurt. I am quite well, thank you." She was mortified at her inelegant fall and painfully aware of his intimate embrace. "If you will release me, sir, I shall return to Miss Ballard. We are to go walking and she must be wondering where I am."

Setting Elizabeth upright, Lord Grissholm let go at once and dropped his hands to his sides, stepping back to let her pass. He watched her hurry out of the room, wondering to himself at what had just transpired.

He had only meant to follow her and make certain the painting was restored satisfactorily, but the vision of her standing there, bathed in sunlight, had captivated him. And when she stumbled over the footstool, he could not help reaching for her; but it had been too much…her skin was so soft and warm; her scent, so enchanting. He should have remembered himself better, but the immense pleasure of holding a woman so closely had been too enticing. It was something he had not done in a very long time.

Realizing the dangerous territory he was entering, he forced the distracting thoughts from his mind. Stick to your plan, Grissholm. It is Darcy you are after. She is only a means to an end – nothing more!

"At last!" Jane exclaimed joyfully, pulling a small sheet of paper from the depths of the desk drawer. Leaning back against the leather padding of her father's desk chair, she eagerly read the words written in Lizzy's graceful hand. The next moment, however, brought keen disappointment when she realized it was not a letter at all, but merely a jumbled collection of names and distant family connections. The only thing on the sheet remotely connected to Lizzy was the name of Mrs. Augusta Whitestone, the relative with whom she was traveling. Dispirited, Jane gave the page one last reproachful look and let it fall to the desktop. Now what was she going to do?

Her eyes swept the room searching for an answer and came to rest on her father's dueling sword hanging above the hearth; the same one she had taken from the middle of his desk when she first began her search. Strange that it should have been so out of place, she reflected thoughtfully. I wonder why? In the next moment, her gaze fell to the small pile of ashes still sitting in the grate below and the sword was instantly forgotten. Memories of that life-altering day came rushing back, bringing especially painful memories that were hers alone. As promised, she had remained silent about the mysterious love letter that had been destroyed.

The deep, tremulous breath she took did not relieve the guilt that rippled through her. While it was true Lizzy did not know the family's difficulty and needed to be told, Jane's real motive for coming in search of an address was to send a letter begging Lizzy to come home as soon as possible. It was now more than a month since that morning when they had bid each other a tender farewell. They had never before been separated for so long without the reassuring connection of letters to sustain them, and it was becoming too much.

Increasingly, Jane was feeling the weight of the day to day burdens thrust upon her. Trying to manage the affairs of an estate with the added burden of her father's illness and her mother's incessant demands had been difficult but bearable. It was the agonizing heartbreak of Mr. Bingley's capricious behavior and the lost expectation of true love that had finally pressed her spirits so low as to now make even the smallest task seem insurmountable.

That very morning she had awakened in tears, traces of a terrifying nightmare still pulling at the edges of her memory. As much as she wanted to meet the many demands of her family, she simply could not. She had given her all and it was not enough. She could no longer manage it on her own and desperately needed Lizzy's strength to share the burden.

Jane sighed pensively and put the disappointing paper back into the drawer. Somehow she had to brace herself for another day, but she did not know how she would bear it.

At that moment, the sound of carriage wheels drew her to the window, and her heart dropped even further at the sight of an approaching gig, the form of Mr. Collins perched precariously next to the driver. Oh, no! As if things were not bad enough!

Knowing it would be impossible to escape the meeting, she resolutely fixed what she hoped was a pleasant look on her face and went to greet her cousin.

"Welcome to Longbourn, Mr. Collins. We did not know you were in the neighborhood. To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"My dear Cousin Jane," Mr. Collins spoke as if to a small child. "May I offer you my heartfelt sympathies and express the deep concern I feel for you as you are called to bear this misfortune; which burden, indeed, has befallen your entire family. I had hoped to condole with you all. Your mother and sisters will, perhaps, join us?"

"I am afraid that my mother is still suffering from the shock and keeps to her rooms. My sisters are engaged elsewhere at the moment. Your concern is appreciated and I shall convey your condolences."

"Indeed, my poor cousin, let me assure you in the kindest of tones that I feel your family's distress most keenly. In actual fact, I feel myself called upon by our relationship, and my situation in life, to sympathize with you on the distressing condition of your father's unfortunate state of health, of which we were only yesterday informed by a letter from Hertfordshire. But I am the bearer of some good news, and you may well rejoice in knowing that directly upon hearing the news of your unfortunate circumstances, Lady Catherine, with the most gracious and generous of gestures, insisted vigorously that I come at once and offer my assistance."

"I thank you kindly, sir; but I cannot see that we are in need of any assistance at present."

"Why, of course you cannot, my dear. Perhaps I should explain myself in a way that you might understand more clearly. As your nearest male relation, and the one to whom Longbourn is entailed, if I may be so indelicate as to point it out, I am prepared to take on the affairs of your father's estate – affairs that certainly would confuse the delicate female mind."

"Mr. Collins, you are too hasty! We are quite able to manage as we are."

"However my dear cousin, you must acknowledge that my intimate connection with Longbourn naturally places me in the position to guide its affairs during the unfortunate incapacity of your father. There is no reason for a young lady such as yourself to be troubled with the dull business of managing an estate. It is a fact well known that affairs of business are simply beyond a female's intellect; and Reverend Fordyce himself teaches that a woman's natural place is subordinate to that of her husband, father, or brother. In circumstances such as this, where you have no close male relation to assist you, it naturally falls to me to guide your family, and I am certain your father would approve of your wisdom in knowing the limitations of your sex."

"My father has always been liberal in his view of such matters. The affairs of an estate are generally a matter for men, indeed; but I also believe there to be circumstances in which a woman may effectively manage an estate, as in the case of your own Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Does she not involve herself directly in the management of her own estate?"

"Why, I…that is to say, she, …My dear cousin, you must see that Lady Catherine's situation is completely different! Where high birth and noble blood combine with such elegance and dignity, such grace and intellect, there can be no doubt of her ability to perform whatever act she deems necessary in her station!"

"And yet, Mr. Collins, you acknowledge she is a woman capable of managing a grand estate. May I not then reasonably expect to look after the affairs of Longbourn, which is much smaller in comparison to Rosings Park, even for a short time?"

"I must draw your attention to the additional fact that a gentle, well-mannered young lady such as yourself would undoubtedly, in every respect be untried and unaccustomed to the affairs of an estate, even a small estate such as Longbourn. There are many responsibilities which the feminine mind cannot begin to imagine."

"Your offer is very kind, sir, but I assure you your assistance is not necessary at this point. I have already received word from my Uncle Gardiner who is making arrangements to come. He has sent instructions for the more pressing matters, and I am confident he will guide us well enough until my father is recovered."

"I am glad to hear that you have the assistance of a man of business, but he may be some time in coming. And even so, it is the opinion of my noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh that at so young an age as three-and-twenty you must be found quite deficient for such an undertaking. You should endeavor to occupy your time with pursuits more suited to your femininity rather than crops and quarter-days!"

"Mr. Collins, this is but a temporary condition. My father is ill, but he is growing stronger with each passing day. Under the circumstances, I think it would be premature to make the changes you are suggesting in the management of his estate. Please express my appreciation to Lady Catherine for her notice, but for now, I am resolved to keep things as they are."

"Cousin Jane, may I caution you against the sins of obstinacy and pride? The noble, unstinting efforts of Lady Catherine de Bourgh must not be cast aside so heedlessly. It would be most unfortunate indeed to have her think you ungrateful of her condescension. You must allow me to satisfy the spirit of her liberality and be of assistance in some way."

"Mr. Collins, I am not ungrateful for your efforts," Jane replied slowly, searching for some task that would satisfy them both. In the next moment, she found one. "And I believe there is another way in which you may be of some help. Elizabeth is traveling for the summer with a relation whose connection we share – a Mrs. Augusta Whitestone. Lizzy does not know of father's illness, and I thought perhaps you would know of their travel plans or how I might send word."

"Whitestone, you say?' he replied with pursed lips. "My father was one of ten children and I have many excellent and dignified relations – indeed, my Uncle Josiah Collins distinguished himself as an invaluable assistant to the coadjutor of Worcester – but I do not recall the name of Whitestone to be among them."

"She is an elderly woman. Sister-in-law to your father's younger brother, I believe?"

"Uncle Stephen's wife has no sisters. You say Miss Elizabeth is traveling with this alleged relation?"

No Mrs. Whitestone? Jane's heart skipped a beat. Then who is Lizzy with? Oh, this is awful! If he imagines any impropriety, there will be no end to his meddling.

Jane's silence quickly ignited a spark of suspicion in Mr. Collins and he eyed her narrowly. "Am I to understand Miss Elizabeth is gone traveling with an unknown person and cannot be found? This is highly irregular. I pray her situation is respectable!"

"There is no reason to believe otherwise, Mr. Collins," Jane was quick to assure him. "I had been told – that is, we believed Mrs. Whitestone to be your relation as well, and now I see that I must be mistaken. I am sorry to have troubled you."

"It is no trouble in the least. I see that I may be of assistance after all. This situation is most assuredly a conundrum that requires elucidation. The effect on your sister's reputation, and indeed upon your entire family, would be most severe if anything is amiss. Clearly I must make inquiries on your behalf! If you would tell me how you came by this name, I will begin immediately."

"Please, sir, it is completely unnecessary!" cried Jane. "I am certain that Lizzy's situation is entirely respectable. In fact, I expect a letter very soon. I had thought to write first, but it will not be long now and then I shall be able to tell her all that has happened."

"Still, it seems most peculiar! One cannot be too careful. A young lady's reputation is a fragile thing and Miss Elizabeth has shown herself to be entirely too independent on many occasions. It is my belief that young ladies should be kept at home, their virtues assiduously safeguarded through the constant, judicious supervision of a male relation."

"Thank you for your concern, but it is very likely this is all a simple misunderstanding." Jane was desperate to dissuade him from a course of inquiry so certain to bring disaster and ruin down upon her family. "Really, there is no need to make inquiries, nor indeed to mention the matter to anyone. Please, do not exert yourself, Mr. Collins!"

"It is my duty as a clergyman and as your cousin to assist you. My excellent powers of deduction, cultivated through constant study and application, have led me to the conclusion that Miss Elizabeth has not written at all. Very strange, I must say, for I know her to be a great letter writer. Indeed, she wrote many letters when she was lately with us at Hunsford."

"Yes – yes, she did! She wrote several excellent letters describing the beauty of Kent and the grandeur of Rosings Park." Seeing her cousin swell with self-importance, she hurried on in her attempt to distract him. "I have not yet inquired about the health of your esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Is she well?"

"Why, she is in excellent health. And you have called to mind an admirable idea, cousin! I shall apply to Lady Catherine for her advice at once. She will know exactly how to trace Miss Elizabeth. Her ladyship is excessively attentive in matters such as this."

"But Mr. Collins," cried Jane in horror, "surely we cannot impose – "

Mary's sudden entrance into the room forced Jane to swallow the remaining words. It was now impossible to pursue the conversation with her sister in the room. Unhappily, Jane saw her chances of discouraging Mr. Collins fade completely away as Mary picked up a book and settled comfortably into a chair, only realizing there was a visitor after she had done so.

"Oh, Mr. Collins, I did not know you were here," she observed as she opened her book. "I am sorry to interrupt, Jane, but Mama is asking for you. She says I do not read to her as well as you and begs you come at once."

"I see that you are needed," Mr. Collins said, rising to take his leave. "I shall not detain you any longer; however, please know that I am most obligingly always at your service. I flatter myself that I am particularly attentive to the sensitivity of all matters regarding familial responsibilities. Thus, as to the matter of your sister, you may be assured that I will proceed with the utmost discretion."

Anxiously, Jane followed him out to his carriage, desperate to convince him that he need not concern himself with finding Elizabeth; but the man stubbornly avowed his obligation to assist. His final condescending farewell left her standing in the drive, thoroughly frustrated and afraid. This is horrible! His interference is sure to cause trouble. If I cannot find a way to stop him, there will be a dreadful scandal, I know it! She moaned softly to herself. And Lady Catherine! Who is to say what will happen if she is informed of our troubles?

Turning back into the house, she paused at the foot of the stairs, unable to make herself climb the steps to her mother's room. Tears flooded her eyes and the crushing weight of her situation made it nearly impossible to breathe. The sustaining thread of hope that Lizzy would come home soon had been cruelly severed with Mr. Collins' visit. Never in her life had she felt so utterly alone. Her beloved Lizzy, the only one she could truly count on in such difficult times, was missing – and under very mysterious circumstances. There was no address, no proper names, nothing that could be used to find her! What could have happened and how had their father come to be so dreadfully mistaken about his own relatives?

Lydia and Kitty's animated voices, shattering the solitude of the house as they entered, snapped Jane back from her dismal reverie. Quickly wiping away her tears, she willed her feet to carry her up the stairs. There was no one to help her now; she could only pray that Uncle Gardiner would have some useful suggestions when he arrived. In the meantime, she had to find a way to keep Mr. Collins' unwelcome meddling from destroying everything!

Chapter 12

Posted on September 29, 2009

Netherfield's creamy façade fairly glistened in the bright afternoon sun as the carriage from Longbourn slowed its pace and gradually came to a halt. Jane Bennet's heart fluttered anxiously at the prospect of what she was about to do and she offered up a silent prayer that the brief note she had sent ahead would not be rejected out of hand. Murmuring softly to herself, she rehearsed one last time the words she had prepared.

Before she had any time to reconsider, she was out of the carriage and following Wilson to the morning room. There was no turning back now. Jane drew an uneasy breath and forced a smile that looked far better than she actually felt. Stepping into the room, she cast a quick glance around and was relieved to see only one other person present. Even so, it was difficult to maintain her composure as Miss Darcy came to greet her.

"Miss Bennet, I am so glad to see you. I was pleasantly surprised to get your note. How is your father?"

"He is still very ill, but makes a little improvement each day," Jane replied tentatively. Seeing her report was met with genuine concern, she could only hope the kindness would continue once she revealed the true purpose of her visit. "Miss Darcy, I apologize for my forward manners, but I have little time and must come directly to the point of my visit. I realize what I am about to say is quite presumptuous, particularly since our acquaintance is so newly formed; however I find myself in desperate circumstances and am in great need of your particular help."

Georgiana's initial bewilderment gave way to a compassionate smile as she listened to Jane's impassioned plea. "I shall be happy to assist you, if I can. How I may help?"

A faint pink colored Jane's cheeks and her eyes glanced nervously at the door. She prayed that reports of her arrival would not reach beyond this room. She had not wanted to come knowing there was a risk of encountering Mr. Bingley; but since Miss Darcy was a guest at Netherfield and she was Jane's only hope, there seemed to be no other way. Now that she was here, she could only plead her case and leave as quickly as possible.

"Are you acquainted with Mr. Collins, Miss Darcy? I believe your aunt, Lady Catherine, granted him the living at Hunsford last year."

"I have not had much occasion to be in his company; but, yes, I do know him. Has he done something wrong?"

"Not exactly. Not yet, at least," Jane answered carefully. "First, I must tell you that he is also my cousin and will one day inherit Longbourn. He called on me this morning, and in the course of his visit decided the circumstances of my sister Elizabeth's absence was not to his liking. He has now taken it upon himself to investigate the matter; an event which I fear will invite gossip and speculation of the worst kind. If he is allowed to proceed, my sister's reputation and that of my family will be called into question and perhaps even ruined!"

"Oh, dear, that is a problem indeed; but I am at a loss as to what I can do. I do not think it is in my power to influence the man. My limited experience with him tells me he would hardly listen to a girl of sixteen."

Jane sighed miserably. "Nor to me, I am afraid. I have begged him not to trouble himself, but it is apparent he listens to no one except Lady Catherine and…" At this point in her speech she faltered, steeling herself for disappointment, and then resolutely finished what she came to do. "…and perhaps your brother."

"My brother?" Georgiana's eyebrows rose. "What has he to do with Mr. Collins?"

"I was hoping I could persuade you to speak to him on my behalf. Mr. Darcy is a man of considerable standing, as well as nephew to Lady Catherine, and I thought he might speak to Mr. Collins on the matter. Perhaps Mr. Darcy would succeed where I have not."

"Of course!" Georgiana cried with sudden understanding. "Fitzwilliam is just the person to assist you! Wait here one moment and I shall fetch him."

"No!" The panicked cry was out before Jane could stop it. "Forgive me, Miss Darcy. I only meant that…well, I had hoped you would speak with your brother after I am gone."

"Miss Bennet, you would do much better speaking directly to him. I am sure he will have questions that only you can answer." Georgiana reached out a comforting hand. "I know this is very difficult for you, but please do not distress yourself. My brother seems a bit severe to those who do not know him well, but he is very kind and I am certain he will be happy to do what he can for you."

Before any further argument could be made, Georgiana hurried away giving every assurance that she would return with her brother directly.

Jane began fretting at once. She had not anticipated having to face Mr. Darcy in person! Exposing her family's troubles and seeking Miss Darcy's help had taken every bit of courage she could muster. How could she now explain her difficulties to an unrelated gentleman, especially one as imposing and severe as Mr. Darcy? The only thing keeping Jane from abandoning her plan and fleeing at once was the certain knowledge that Mr. Darcy was the one person who could have any effect on Mr. Collins; the only one who could save Lizzy and her whole family from certain ruin.

At the sound of Georgiana's return, Jane rose with a trembling determination. She would do whatever it took to safeguard her family's reputation. Her resolve, however, was completely swept away at the sight of Mr. Bingley entering the room close on Mr. Darcy's heels. All color drained from her face, bringing her as close to fainting as she had ever been in her life. She sank back into her chair, quite unable to stand.

"Miss Bennet!" Darcy cried in alarm, "Georgiana did not tell me you were so ill as this. What has Mr. Collins done?"

"Mr. Collins? Oh, yes…He…I am not sure I…" her words stumbled to an awkward halt as a deep shade of pink quickly replaced the whiteness in her cheeks. She stared mutely at Mr. Darcy, struggling not to look in Mr. Bingley's direction. This was dreadful! There was no possible way to explain her troubles without exposing her family to further censure in front of Mr. Bingley. After their conversation in the garden she had hoped to at least retain his good opinion, but now he would surely congratulate himself on his narrow escape from such a family as hers.

Mr. Darcy looked searchingly into Jane's face and she felt as if he could read her mind. He did glance at Bingley, and for a moment she thought he would address him; but after a short hesitation, he turned back to her with a compassionate smile. "Can I get you something, Miss Bennet – some tea, or a glass of wine, perhaps?"

"No, I will be fine, thank you. I just…I had not thought it would be so difficult, and I am uncertain of where to begin." She felt the weight of Mr. Bingley's eyes on her and was powerless to keep her blush from deepening.

"Perhaps you can you start with Mr. Collins," suggested Darcy. "Georgiana has told me he is being troublesome. What exactly has he done to cause you so much distress?"

"As I told Miss Darcy, he is intent upon pursuing a matter regarding the circumstances of one of my sisters. If he is allowed to do so, the undertaking could very well damage our family's reputation and respectability. I have implored him not to; however, he esteems it his duty, and will not oblige me. If you are at all acquainted with my cousin's eccentric nature, Mr. Darcy, you will understand the distress I feel at this moment."

"Yes, unfortunately I do know him," Darcy muttered distastefully. "May I ask what these circumstances are that have excited his interest?"

Casting a furtive glance in Mr. Bingley's direction, Jane took a deep breath and began, forcing the words out quickly before her courage could fail her.

"It is all a terrible misunderstanding, really. A little more than a month ago, my sister Elizabeth was asked to be traveling companion to a distant relative by the name of Mrs. Augusta Whitestone, whom we supposed to be a relation of Mr. Collins as well. We have not heard from Lizzy since she left and I wanted to write informing her of the situation at home, so I sought Mr. Collins' assistance. He informed me he had no relation by that name. My confusion at his reply was enough to stir his imagination. Although I told him nothing of my own concerns – for it is highly unusual that Lizzy should not write a word to us by now – Mr. Collins begins to suspect her situation may not be entirely respectable. He declares he will not rest until he has discovered every detail."

Hearing herself tell the tale, Jane could not help the tears that welled in her eyes as she thought of her sister and how desperate it all seemed. "He says he will consult Lady Catherine de Bourgh on the matter, and then who knows what will happen? Do you see how desperate I am, Mr. Darcy?"

"Indeed I do, Miss Bennet; but I beg you, do not be distressed. I will pay a visit to Mr. Collins as soon as we are finished here."

"Do you think he may be dissuaded?" she asked hopefully, brushing the anxious tears from her cheeks.

"I can assure you, he will not speak of this to anyone."

The relief in Jane's face was evident. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy! I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your help."

"I am honored to be of assistance," he assured her calmly, "and if you will permit me, I should also like to assist in finding your sister and bringing her home."

It took all the discipline Darcy possessed to maintain an unruffled exterior as he battled the turmoil churning within him. An ominous fear had gripped his heart the moment he heard Elizabeth's name, and increased manifestly as the details were revealed. He would never permit that odious little man to breathe even a hint of scandal regarding Elizabeth!

At the same time his mind was racing to solidify a plan to protect Elizabeth's reputation from Collins' bungling efforts, Darcy was desperate to know why her family had not had any word from her. Was it really a simple misunderstanding? Was she in good hands and out of harm's way? He was not going wait to find out. He would begin a search at once regardless of Elizabeth's opinion of him. He would happily endure her disapproval so long as she was safe. Without waiting for Jane's response, he pressed for more details.

"What can you tell me about your sister's departure? Did you see the woman with whom she was traveling?"

"I cannot possibly impose upon you so," Jane objected uneasily, "I only came to ask for your help with Mr. Collins. That is more than enough."

"You do not impose at all. Mr. Collins is but a part of your problem and I cannot leave you in distress as to your sister's circumstances. I am happy to assist."

"Again I thank you, Mr. Darcy, but my uncle will be coming soon."

For some minutes now, Bingley had exerted great restraint in keeping his distance, even as his own heart was fractured by Jane's anguished tears. He wanted very much to gather her into his arms and comfort her, to wipe away her tears; but sighing wretchedly, he knew he could not. He had no right, for she had deemed his affection unsteady, unacceptable.

Disheartened by his exiled status, he hovered in the background, saying nothing. Then a flash of inspiration lit his face with unrestrained joy. Of course! He had been seeking a chance to prove himself, and was this not the perfect opportunity to do just that? If he could show his usefulness, in such an hour of need, and return Jane's sister to her, he would prove himself steadfast, a man upon whom she could depend in any circumstance!

"Allow me to be of service, Miss Bennet!" Bingley blurted out, startling everyone in the room. "You may be assured that I shall leave no stone unturned. I shall begin immediately and have your sister back to you in no time!"

"Mr. Bingley, that would be impossible!" Jane declared firmly. "She is likely far from Hertfordshire, and as I said, my Uncle Gardiner is soon to come. He will know what is to be done."

"Surely you would not want to wait another day, and I should like to be of service," Bingley came near to pleading. "You can rely upon me, Miss Bennet - I shall be steadfast and not fail you!"

"Sir," said Jane, dropping her eyes at his reference to her previous criticism of him, "you must see that I cannot accept anything from you, considering...considering all that has occurred."

"That may be, Miss Bennet, but there can be no such objection to accepting my offer," Darcy argued. "I shall be happy to find Miss Elizabeth and bring her safely home. If you would tell me how the invitation to travel came about, I can – "

"I say, Darcy," objected Bingley, "I have already offered my services!"

"And I had already offered mine, when you did so."

"Gentlemen!" cried Jane, holding her hands up in protest. "This is too much! I cannot accept such an offer from either of you!"

"I beg you would reconsider, Miss Bennet," replied Darcy unwaveringly. "As we have an acquaintance of nearly a year and you are obviously in distress, I would consider it an honor if you will allow me to see to the recovery of your sister."

Bingley would not be outdone. "I believe I can claim the acquaintance as well – and more. Please do accept my assistance in this matter, Miss Bennet! I am steady in my purpose and will not yield! Darcy, you have already given yourself to the matter of Mr. Collins."

"I am confident Mr. Collins will be no trouble at all," Darcy countered easily. "And as for finding Miss Elizabeth, I have the advantage of many resources at my disposal."

"Yes, resources tied to responsibility, I dare say. I believe you will be needed at Pemberley for the upcoming quarter-day. A dispatch about it came this very morning, did it not?"

"It is nothing urgent, I assure you," snapped Darcy. "My steward can see to it. He has long experience in handling such matters. However, you do not have that advantage in Mr. Hodgkins, do you, Bingley? He is quite new and far more likely to need help with Netherfield's quarter-day accounts. You had best put your attentions on your estate."

"Mr. Hodgkins is very capable!" Bingley responded hotly. "He can handle a trifling matter such as a quarter-day without me! Miss Bennet's peace of mind is far more important!"

"I am grateful for your offer, both of you," Jane rose from her chair quickly, effectively separating the two men who were now glaring at each other, "but it is out of the question, truly! I cannot trouble you so much."

"It is no trouble at all, Miss Bennet," Bingley insisted. "I will not stand by and see you suffer this alone. Again I say, nothing shall dissuade me! I shall be steadfast!"

"Miss Elizabeth must be found quickly!" Darcy's tone was beginning to betray him. "My position and connections allow me to offer assistance that you cannot!"

"Gentlemen, your generosity does you credit, but surely you must see that I cannot accept!" Jane cried in frustration.

"You must!" declared Bingley. "I must be allowed to prove myself to you!"

"And I must be allowed to bring Miss Elizabeth home!" cried an exasperated Darcy.

Georgiana, at first utterly baffled by this highly irregular display of temper between two men of generally agreeable dispositions, had begun watching her brother's face with increasing interest; and his last passionate declaration had caused her to gasp with the shock of sudden realization.

A few moments of deliberation were sufficient for Georgiana to recover from her astonishment and decide her upon a course of action. The newly-discovered insight gave her the courage needed to speak up despite the increasingly heated words flying between her brother and his friend.

"Fitzwilliam, Mr. Bingley – could you not work together to help Miss Bennet find her sister?"

Darcy and Bingley, momentarily stunned by the interruption that had come from such an unexpected source, measured each other warily.

"Really, Darcy, I don't see why Miss Bennet's concerns interest you so much," grumbled Bingley peevishly.

"My brother's resources could serve to speed your noble quest, sir," Georgiana reasoned quietly, "and Mr. Bingley's knowledge of the Bennet family would aid your inquiries as well, would they not Fitzwilliam?"

Had the situation not been so serious, Georgiana would have been amused at the expressions on the men's faces. They looked to be two boys caught fighting in the nursery and then forced to make amends.

"I suppose Georgiana is right." Darcy conceded, though a hint of anger still remained. "What do you say, Bingley – shall we join forces to search for Miss Elizabeth?"

Bingley gave a grudging nod of his head. "I dare say I shall be happy to relieve Miss Bennet's distress, however it is done."

"But really," protested Jane weakly, "I cannot possibly --"

"Good! Then it's all settled," said Georgiana brightly. "Miss Bennet, you now have the two best men in the kingdom at your service. It is an offer I think you cannot refuse!"

Darcy shifted in his chair yet again and impatiently tapped his fingers on the rich tapestry covering its arm, amazed that the man before him could ramble on, seemingly oblivious to the purpose of Darcy's visit. He could see a more direct approach would be necessary; but then that would require the man to yield to an actual conversation – and Mr. Collins had scarce drawn a breath in the past five minutes.

"Indeed, sir, I am delighted at your visit and honored that you would condescend to concern yourself with the affairs of my unfortunate relations," Mr. Collins continued in animated tones. "Let me assure you, most solemnly, that I do feel the responsibility to my cousin's family most deeply – especially in matters that may prove ruinous to the reputation of a young lady."

"Just so, Mr. Collins," said Darcy quickly when Collins at last allowed the briefest of pauses. "And it would be less than responsible for you to speak ahead of yourself, to conjecture when there is so much yet unknown – particularly to someone such as Lady Catherine."

"But I must speak with her ladyship! She is an invaluable source of information, particularly in matters of propriety. It is beyond me to do otherwise," Collins blurted in horror.

"And yet, Mr. Collins, it would be unwise to act so hastily upon unfounded assumptions. I know my aunt well and am confident that she would be most displeased to find herself in a position of ridicule."

"Sir?" Collins frowned in confusion.

"A man of your position and calling in life owes it to himself to be above reproach. There is most probably nothing more than a misunderstanding here; but if you should find yourself connected to scandal of any kind, then through you, Lady Catherine would be touched as well. A position I recommend you avoid at all costs. The other side of the coin is equally grievous. Should there be no foundation for your suspicions and you are found to be the bearer of false rumors, your own reputation of honesty and integrity would suffer for the folly."

"Hmm, yes, you may have a point there," Collins broodingly considered his precarious position. "Perhaps it would be wiser to move with a little more caution."

"Better still, Mr. Collins, I would recommend you disregard it completely."

"Oh, no! I cannot disregard it completely, Mr. Darcy," he exclaimed in renewed dismay. "Lady Catherine is deserving of a full and complete account of my endeavors at Longbourn. I will take your advice under counsel, however, and investigate more thoroughly before informing her ladyship of the particulars."

"Mr. Collins!" The man's startled expression forced Darcy to check his growing impatience and adjust to a more temperate tone. "Mr. Collins, I must insist that you do nothing more in this matter. I will take fully responsibility for any information that needs to be passed on to my aunt." Which is nothing, he added to himself.

"But, sir – I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to bear that responsibility!"

"You can and you shall," Darcy stated matter-of-factly.

Mr. Collins' ambivalence was obvious. He rose from his chair, muttering to himself and pacing the length of the small sitting room before finally turning a skeptical eye to Darcy.

"I beg your indulgence, Mr. Darcy, for I cannot see what purpose it serves that you would exert yourself on behalf of my relations. Their station in life is decidedly beneath your own. I cannot reconcile that you would deign to trouble yourself."

"I consider Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth to be acquaintances of mine, and as such feel an obligation to lend my assistance," came his even reply. "As a clergyman, I am certain you see the import of offering Christian charity to those less fortunate than ourselves."

"I agree with your admirable sentiments most heartily, sir, and your great and honorable aunt, Lady Catherine, has shown herself to be equally generous in her charitable acts. Therefore, it follows that it cannot be agreeable for her to remain entirely ignorant of the matter, for it was she who encouraged me on my present errand. Indeed, she expressed the utmost concern for the welfare of my relations when I last saw her, but two days ago."

"There is no point in exciting any further interest, Mr. Collins. In good time, I am certain we shall find that there is nothing amiss and it has all been an unfortunate misunderstanding," Darcy replied convincingly. He knew enough of Elizabeth to realize a month's passing with no letters home was a sign that something was very much amiss, but he would brook no interference from this heavy-handed clergyman. "I need not remind you that where a virtuous young lady's reputation is concerned, any true gentleman will hold himself bound by honor to avoid gossip-mongering, rumor, and innuendo. You must also know that if scandal falls upon the Bennets while I am acting on their behalf, my own reputation could easily be tarnished by association. I should not like to think you any less than gentlemanly in such a case, sir, nor can I imagine it would serve your future interests to incur my anger."

"Indeed, I am a man of honor, sir!" cried Mr. Collins, beads of sweat beginning to gather on his brow. "But surely you would not want me to displease Lady Catherine. It is her particular wish to know everything that happens in the parish, regardless whether – "

"When did Meryton become your parish, Mr. Collins?"

"It isn't, but -- "

"You believe that my aunt wishes to be informed about the concerns of every family in Hertfordshire, then? And perhaps Devon and Staffordshire, as well?"

"No, sir! It's just that, you see, I cannot be sure..." Anxiously, Mr. Collins avoided Darcy's impatient gaze, his face clearly reflecting each thought passing through his head. He would be very hard pressed if he were to displease Lady Catherine, especially now that he was newly married. But Mr. Darcy was a man of considerable wealth and influence, and obviously possessed the same iron will as his formidable aunt.

What was he to do?! To choose between his present, very comfortable position with her Ladyship and any future advantages of Pemberley was an impossible task. His neckcloth grew uncomfortably tight as the tiny beads of perspiration gathered and began to run down his face. He mopped his forehead nervously. Lady Catherine was his patroness, and surely deserving of his loyalty. But wait – did she not often say her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, was very nearly engaged to Mr. Darcy? Oh, dear! Not only was he master of the great estate of Pemberley, but the future master of Rosings Park as well! To provoke his displeasure would be madness and ruin! There was no choice but to acquiesce to the gentleman's wishes and hope Lady Catherine would never learn what he had done.

"Mr. Darcy!" cried Collins energetically, "I did not mean to say that I disagreed in any way! You are, of course, a man of great talent and intelligence, superbly capable of resolving any situation that may present itself; so much so that Lady Catherine need not be troubled with this matter at all. Allow me to say, sir, that the Bennet family is most fortunate – yes, fortunate, indeed – to have been noticed by a man of your station! Such affability! Such condescension! And, if I may flatter myself, I would do great justice to a sermon on your charitable – "

"Ahem!"

" – or, perhaps more properly said, I could do it justice, if this matter were not to be kept absolutely silent, as a matter of honor, and never discussed with anyone under any circumstances whatsoever! On this point, Mr. Darcy, you may depend upon my absolute discretion. You have my word as a gentleman, that I would not dream of imperiling your reputation in any manner! And if I may be of service in any way, sir, please do not hesitate to call on me – sir."

"It is good of you to offer; but you need not concern yourself again." Having finally achieved his purpose, Darcy was relieved to bring the visit to a close. "I am going now, Mr. Collins, and I expect that the particulars of this visit will fall under your vow of silence as well."

"Of course, Mr. Darcy. I understand and you may be assured that I will be mute in every respect. It would not do to have your tranquility disturbed by every person of humble means in need of a champion. Very wise, very wise indeed."

Darcy rode away from Lucas Lodge only partly satisfied. He was confident that there would be no immediate scandal in Hertfordshire, but his aunt was another matter. While he had scarcely uttered more than two words to Mr. Collins before today, the past half hour had revealed the full extent of the man's unimpressive character, and Darcy was not completely confident that Lady Catherine would not learn of the affair despite assurances to the contrary. He knew his aunt's abilities perfectly and if she were to get the smallest inkling of anything amiss, she would not stop until she had extracted every particular from the clergyman. Darcy could only hope that would not be the case.

Bingley bit his lip, slowly chewing at the irritation which had not diminished in Darcy's absence, and watched his friend cross the room to settle into the chair facing the massive mahogany desk. No words had passed between them since Georgiana negotiated their tentative truce and subsequent agreement to search for Elizabeth Bennet together, not even when Darcy had gone to deal with Mr. Collins.

"It is done," Darcy reported tersely. "He was a bit tenacious at first, but in the end he agreed to give up his interest and return to Hunsford. With any luck, no one will hear another word from that quarter."

"Hmm," Bingley muttered sourly.

"Is that all you can say?" Darcy felt his own irritation rising again. "Do you think you could have done better with the man?"

"No, I do not think I could have done better. I understand why you had to do it; but what I do not understand is why you insist on being further involved in Miss Bennet's affairs."

"And I do not understand why you fail to see what I have to offer in restoring her sister."

"Darcy, you amaze me! You have done nothing but encourage me to remain in Hertfordshire and be steadfast in my affections – desperate as my position is – and the first opportunity I have to really prove myself, you cut me off at the knees!"

"That was not my intention in the least," replied Darcy defensively. "I offered my assistance only because I saw that Miss Bennet needed help beyond what she was willing to ask of me."

"And she refused you, giving me the perfect opportunity to raise myself in her estimation; but your unyielding tenacity has diminished my own usefulness by half. I do care about Miss Elizabeth, of course; but you must see that my helping Miss Bennet would be invaluable to my cause. I must ask you to step aside and allow me to do this alone."

"I cannot step aside. I appreciate your position, Bingley; but do you not see the benefit of our working together on this?"

"Given your superior rank and standing, a comparison of our efforts could only lower me in her estimation. I hardly believe that would be a benefit." Profound resentment tinged Bingley's words and he eyed Darcy warily. "You were so keen on offering yourself to Miss Bennet, one would think you had more than a casual interest. Perhaps your purpose runs much deeper."

"Bingley, you are being ridiculous!"

"Am I?" he cried petulantly. "She was the only one you found handsome enough when we first came to Hertfordshire. You said so yourself at the assembly. And you were particularly keen for me to drop the acquaintance and stay in London after the ball. Trying to get me out of the way, I daresay; except that she made her escape before you could return."

"This is absurd! Why would I convince you of her true feelings and encourage you to come back, if that were my motive?"

"Who is to say? Perhaps you felt it an advantage to return to the neighborhood by way of Netherfield. In any case, it is quite clear to me. Our friendship is but a means to your own end!"

"Bingley, I swear to you, I have not the slightest interest in Miss Bennet." Darcy did not know whether to laugh or cry at his ridiculous position. "I would hope you know our years of friendship means more than that."

"I should like to think so, but your behavior today has been very unlike you," Bingley responded grudgingly, trying to measure Darcy's sincerity. "Will you give me your word as a gentleman that you have never considered an alliance with the Bennets?"

"I give you my word as a gentleman that I have never had any romantic notions regarding Miss Jane Bennet," Darcy replied evenly, hoping that Bingley would not notice the manner in which he had rephrased the promise. "I will step back and let you take the lead in this endeavor – you shall have all the credit, I assure you. The material point is that we bring her sister home as soon as possible."

Bingley cocked his head curiously and Darcy met his gaze evenly. "Very well, Darcy. I shall take you at your word regarding Miss Bennet. As for Miss Elizabeth – with nowhere to start, I am afraid it will take some time to trace her. I shall have to find a way to get more particulars and it may take a day or two to arrange another meeting with Jane."

"No, Bingley, that will not do! Every day could make a difference in the outcome of things. I said I would let you take the lead, but for heaven's sake, take the lead!"

Bingley observed his friend's heated animation with no small interest. He had always known Darcy to be calm and collected, ever in good regulation, and yet twice in one day his friend had exhibited a passion heretofore unknown to him. It was all quite puzzling!

"Darcy, you have sworn you have no interest in Miss Bennet, and I believe you; but…" Bingley's voice grew in intensity with the idea that was forming in his head, "…could it be you have another reason for wanting to be so involved?"

"My purpose is to assist Miss Bennet, and you, in protecting the Bennet's good name," Darcy shifted uncomfortably under Bingley's gaze. "If you truly wish to achieve matrimony, you have enough to overcome without adding scandal to the list."

"But I could do it on my own. You know I could; so there must be another – " Bingley's jaw dropped with a sudden comprehension. "It is not Jane at all, is it? It is Miss Elizabeth! It is her sister that makes you so determined!"

"You know as well as I do the whole family will suffer if scandal arises; therefore, it follows that we must safeguard Miss Elizabeth's reputation. Now, shall we get on with it?"

"Not yet." Bingley stared into Darcy's face, knowing there was more. "I would have your reason."

"I have already told you. Gossip and scandal would do no good for her or her sister," Darcy replied, completely ignoring the piercing stare. "Do you not think we could try for more details tomorrow? Perhaps I could ask Georgiana to send a note for Miss Bennet to rendezvous somewhere?"

"Darcy –"

"We are wasting time, Charles. Are you going to discuss a meeting with Miss Bennet or not?"

"Certainly, it just seems that…I, umm…I say, Darcy, I have the peculiar notion that it is affection that drives you in this matter!"

"Indeed there is, for if you succeed in securing Jane Bennet's affection, I shall count my part well worth the effort," Darcy calmly assured him, desperately wanting to avoid the inevitability of Bingley's conjecture.

"Your affection, Darcy – for Elizabeth Bennet. Do you love her?"

Darcy sat motionless, staring hard at the floor and wishing he had never agreed to come back to Hertfordshire. No one knew of the tumultuous battle he had waged against his feelings for Elizabeth Bennet, particularly after the crushing disappointment in Kent. His only hope had been that the passing of time would fill the void left by her rejection and mend his shattered heart; but it seemed fate would not be merciful. The revelation of Elizabeth's mysterious absence had given new life to his desire and he was keenly aware that the emptiness would never be filled. Yet could he admit it to Bingley? Could he clothe his love for her in the reality of spoken words? If Bingley had given him any chance for escape, he would have equivocated. But the question had been asked, and Darcy could not deny it.

"Yes, I do," he reluctantly forced the words out.

"This is unbelievable!" Bingley fell back into his chair in amazement. "After all you said against me wanting to marry Jane…how unsuitable the match was…and now you are in love with her sister! How can that be?"

"It has not been a conscious choice, believe me. Every sense of reason argued against it and I have tried for months to repress my feelings, but – "

"Months!? Darcy, are you telling me you have loved her for months? How? Where?" Bingley struggled to comprehend the extent of the revelation. "My word! I suppose I should have guessed something after her stay here, but I truly saw no signs of attachment at all. And when you danced with her at the ball, you actually…but you always seemed so severe, and her manner toward you was not …my word, from what I could see, you two did not get on well at all! I must say you both did a splendid job of hiding it!"

Darcy winced at the realization that even Bingley had seen the truth. Had he been the only one in the entire world blind to Elizabeth's dislike of him?

"For her part, there was nothing to hide. I mistook her meaning utterly and completely." Darcy tried to ignore the pang of regret his words aroused. "Not long ago, she informed me, in the most painful way imaginable, that she has never returned the sentiment – not in the least."

"In Kent," Bingley said quietly.

"In Kent," Darcy nodded. "After all my struggles to forget her, you can well imagine my dismay in finding her at Rosings Park. The almost daily reminder was excruciating. When I finally realized I could not overcome my attraction, I went to her, fully expecting to be accepted; but found instead a wellspring of bitterness and resentment. Not only did she champion Wickham's claim of abuse at my hands, she had discovered my unforgivable role in separating you from her sister. She was exceedingly clear in her opinion of me, and it was not flattering."

"That would explain your certainty of Jane's feelings for me. And I thought you – "

"It is no less than I deserved, given my interference," replied Darcy bitterly.

"But surely there is hope? You would not be pursuing this scheme if there were not?"

"No, my friend. I assure you that the opinions she expressed, and the manner in which she expressed them, give me no hope whatsoever. I have no expectation. My only purpose here is to remedy what I can for her and her family, and to assist you in gaining Miss Bennet's trust and confidence."

"I am sorry for your disappointment; but pray, do not lose heart. Who is to say what will happen?"

Darcy shook his head slowly. "My purpose is as I said and nothing more. This muddled affair is strange at best, and whether the circumstances show themselves to be fair or foul, I am certain if Miss Elizabeth welcomes my efforts at all, it will be for her sister's sake and nothing more."

"I refuse to consider such a bleak outlook, Darcy. Did you not say yourself that one cannot give up, especially at the very moment one is most needed? Things will come right, you shall see."

"Ever the optimist, I see," observed Darcy, giving up the smallest of smiles. "It is a true friend, indeed, who can return the favor of good advice without rubbing salt in the wound. I thank you, Bingley."

"I am glad to be of some service to you at last. It is a rare occasion and I am happy for it. We shall do what we can for the Miss Bennets and hope that it is enough to win their hearts. At the very least, we shall solve the mystery, bring Miss Elizabeth home, and put to rest any whisper of scandal before it ever begins!"