Beginning, Next Section

Chapter 1: Frustrated Hopes and Consideration of Policies

Posted on 06 March 2007

Fitzwilliam Darcy could think of nothing more than making the lovely dark-haired Elizabeth Bennet become his wife as soon as possible, especially before anyone else could propose to her. In this context, anyone else referred chiefly to his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, for Darcy had witnessed their amiable and jocular interactions at Rosings, in the music room of his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and during walks on the grounds. In truth, Darcy loved his cousin as the brother that he never had, and admired him for both his achievements and his character, but envied him for his ease in company and his talent in easily finding words that lifted the spirits of all whom he knew. Instead, his own exchanges with Miss Bennet, while spirited and engaging, often ended in misunderstandings and arguments. This fact depressed him often, for he desired nothing more than to see Elizabeth happy and smiling, but it also increased his admiration of her for holding her own in conversation. He had all too often been pursued by supposedly sophisticated young ladies ready to agree with everything that he said, in hopes of attaching themselves to his considerable income and vast estate. What had the Colonel said the previous evening? "Mind you, Darcy, were I not a second son in need of finding a lady with a dowry, and a military man sent from here to there like a parcel at my General's whim, I might already have proposed to her myself!" Darcy could only hope that Richard would not overcome his reservations.

Following a hurried breakfast and two rapidly consumed cups of coffee, Darcy had ordered the servants to saddle his best stallion and had galloped in the direction of Hunsford Parsonage, where he knew Miss Bennet to be staying, enjoying the hospitality of her cousin, parson William Collins, and his wife, her friend Charlotte Lucas. In all probability, he would come upon Elizabeth during the morning walk that he knew her to enjoy, and would then declare his ardent love for her. The idea that she might not accept, indeed, that she would not be delighted to have a man of his station as her husband, did not even occur to him. He could already imagine the delight of placing the ring upon her finger, of hearing her call him by his Christian name, of holding her in his arms, and bringing her to Pemberley as its new Mistress. He smiled in the contemplation of every scene of their future life as he envisioned it.

A galloping stallion can be hard to control, but a rapidly galloping stallion that suddenly decides to stop, whinny with intensity, and then gallop in another direction is a hundredfold more difficult. Mr. Darcy's reverie prevented him from reacting as quickly as he should, and he was thrown from his mount, crashing into a man who was sitting on a nearby stump. Fortunately, this collision reduced the impact of his fall, but could not keep him from falling into the surrounding mud.

"Excuse me, Sir, I hope that you are not injured," said the other man.

Darcy quickly stood up, stretched his limbs, and inspected his condition. "Thank God that I am not, but I fear that my plans are completely undone. And yourself?" The other man assured him that no harm had been done. As his heartbeat returned to a more normal speed, he was able to think more rationally. "Sir, I must express my sincere gratitude to you. You may have saved my life."

"Think nothing of it, Sir. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is John Robert Clover."

"Fitzwilliam Darcy." As the two shook hands, Mr. Darcy was able to take a clearer look at his interlocutor. Clover was thirty to thirty-five years old, with straight black hair and dark green eyes. Where Darcy was tall and imposing in his build, Clover was of average height but rather solid. He wore a dark brown overcoat over a blue waistcoat and black breeches and carried a deerskin bag over his shoulder. The tinge of his skin suggested that he had been exposed to the sun much more than was usual for most Englishmen. The alertness displayed in his eyes and the strength of his jaw gave a determined expression to his features. After their handshake, Clover took a few steps to retrieve a fallen book and place it in his bag. Although he tried to hide it, an acute observer could notice that he limped slightly.

"Are you by any chance related to the Fitzwilliams of Matlock, Mr. Darcy?" Clover asked.

"Lord Matlock is my uncle, and his son Colonel Fitzwilliam and I are currently guests at the estate of our aunt, at Rosings." Clover's first reaction was a somewhat bemused nod, but then his face brightened and he said "Truly, what a coincidence! Richard and I have been friends since we were first in the army together. I would be quite happy to see him."

In spite of Clover's engaging manner, Darcy remembered his original intent and regained some of his customary diffidence. "All this is well and good, Sir, but if you are an officer why did you not introduce yourself by stating your rank? And have you any idea where my horse may have gone?" Of course, he could not express to a recent acquaintance his desire to return to Rosings, change his clothes, and propose marriage to a young lady.

"Ah, the proprieties of polite English society," Clover sighed with a sparkle in his eye, a combination of expressions that Darcy had never seen before. "I am not some cashiered thug. Had I introduced myself as Colonel Clover, or as Sir John Robert, would you regard me more favorably? I do not consider you under any obligation to me for breaking your fall, but I must tell you that my commission and my knighthood are to be kept secret in most circumstances. I reveal them now to you only because you are Richard's cousin and to my judgment, you seem an honest man. The mud on your clothes does not affect my opinion."

This made Darcy recall when Elizabeth had walked to Netherfield, in order to care for her sister Jane. If anything, that mud had influenced his opinion of her favorably. This made him reflect on Elizabeth herself and then on his purpose when he set out this morning.

"And my horse?"

Before Clover could say anything in response, both men heard a series of whinnies and neighs in the distance.

"I think you have your answer, Mr. Darcy, and must apologize for my part in your accident." Both men began walking in the direction of the sound that they had heard, into a small grove, occasionally moving the lower branches aside in order to pass. The sounds of the horses repeated themselves periodically.

"Your part, Sir John Robert? It was I that fell on you!"

"Well, yes, I will allow that, although the cannon that fell on my leg in Spain was a much more painful experience, and a damsel in distress would have been a more welcome one."

Darcy found himself too disconcerted by Clover's frankness and bizarre sense of humor to say anything. He began to think of how he might have acted if Elizabeth Bennet had fallen off a horse onto him, or, since he knew her to prefer walking to riding, if he had fallen in front of her. Falling onto her, of course, would have been a pleasant landing, but he would never have wanted to risk injuring her. The two men proceeded through the grove, until the flow of a stream was audible.

"Maybe I should have borrowed a mount from someone else for my morning ride, but I insisted on taking my trusted mare. Apparently this is the season during which she is most interesting to the stallions in the vicinity, but I hoped that tying her far enough from the path while I read my book would prevent any incident. However your strong stallion must possess a keen sense of smell and discernment, and I should be honored to call him my stallion-in-law. And if you should find yourself in need of a foal ... "

In spite of himself, Darcy began to laugh out loud, and Clover soon joined him. "Clover, do you talk like this all the time? You sound like a character in a novel!" This observation only made them laugh more, to the extent that they were incapable of walking further for a minute or two. Once they recovered their dignity and bearing, they walked to the stream, where they saw two horses, Mr. Darcy's bay stallion and Mr. Clover's white mare, drinking from the water. The exact nature of their recent activities was evident in the particular shine of their coats and the thirst with which they drank.

"Clover, I am pleased to meet you, but I fear that my horse has enjoyed this morning more than I have," said Darcy and then began to stare into the distance with a wistful expression on his face.

"Had you hoped for the opposite to be true?"

"Well, yes ... Confound it! All right, Clover, you have been quite open and honest with me, and now I will be honest with you. I was on my way to propose marriage to a young lady who has quite charmed and bewitched me, in spite of all sorts of objective reasons that would logically stand against such a union."

"Darcy, you seem to be a good man. I imagine you are hopeful that the young lady will consent."

"Quite so. I desire her most ardently and admire her intelligence and spirit, so much so that the inferiority of her connections and the impropriety of some of her close relatives, and my initial disapproval, as well as the probable disapproval of some of my own relatives, are all quite overcome in my mind."

"But what reason does that give her to agree?"

"Besides my own love for her, the opportunity to improve her station in life far beyond any that she could have cause to expect."

Clover wearily let out his breath. "If a close relative or friend of yours intended to make a proposal in these terms, what would you think of it? Or for that matter, what if you intended to propose and someone else described these factors, would your feelings then remain as positive as before?"

For a fraction of a second, Darcy wondered whether he could be in the company of a mind reader. It was utterly impossible that Clover could know about his advice to Charles Bingley! However, if he were to be honest with himself, he would be compelled to recognize that it made no sense at all for him to use the same exact arguments to dissuade Charles from forming an attachment to Elizabeth's sweet and kindly sister Jane, a beauty in her own right, and then mention them himself with respect to his own attachment, his own intended proposal, to Elizabeth. When he had spoken with Bingley, his other principal argument was that Jane did not appear to be attracted to his friend -- but could Fitzwilliam or Bingley or any other close observer say with sincerity that Elizabeth appeared to feel affection or liking for him? An observer of their arguments might reach quite the opposite conclusion. Yesterday, Richard had praised Elizabeth rather extensively, but as a beautiful and spirited young lady, not one in love. Darcy was startled by the implications of his own thoughts -- did this mean that he hypocritically considered himself superior to his best friend? A fine sort of friendship that would be! Or did he believe himself to have more rights than Charles for some reason? The words took shape on their own, as if they were beyond his control. "This does not seem good to me. I am having second thoughts."

Clover walked to his mare and began to untie her in order to prepare for departure. After a lengthy silence, he turned towards his companion again. "Upon what subject, if I may ask?"

"Not about Miss Bennet by any means, but about my own worthiness and actions." What motive did he have to consider himself more entitled to marry Elizabeth than Charles to Jane? Was it because he was the Master of Pemberley and Charles was a tradesman's son? That brought to his mind a certain steward's son, the friend of his childhood, George Wickham, with whom he had fallen out years before. Wickham had proven himself to be immoral and unscrupulous on other occasions, and the Darcy family had been the target of his misdeeds, or rather, one of the targets. Darcy could reasonably expect Wickham to have defamed him to the people of Meryton now that he was stationed there with the militia; considering his past behavior, that would only be normal. Was there a chance that he had told Elizabeth some strange tale, deliberately designed to lessen Darcy's worth in her eyes? After all, they had spoken together at length at least twice. Had Wickham the slightest idea that Darcy intended to marry Elizabeth, he would be sure to see ruining this possibility as his own supreme triumph, not to mention revenge for the failure of his schemes involving poor Georgiana. At the thought of his beloved young sister, Darcy smiled slightly. She could help Elizabeth understand his true character, not to mention Wickham's, the real Fitzwilliam Darcy that was not apparent in large gatherings and London society, and the two young women could easily become friends. Elizabeth's combination of playfulness and mature insight was exactly what Georgiana needed in order to overcome her own shyness and put the suffering of the past behind her.

A new resolution took hold in Darcy's mind. "My original intentions were excessively hasty. What I need is to ensure that my conduct will make me worthy of the lady that has enchanted my heart, and that she will know the truth of some matters that if recounted by others, may paint quite a poor picture of my character." To become Elizabeth's husband would not be only a matter of proposing and being accepted; it would become his quest, his crusade, his Holy Grail. His first concern would be to return to Rosings, and consider from there how to make a new beginning.

"A wise strategy, if I may say so." Darcy had been so lost in his own thoughts that he had nearly forgotten Clover's presence. "Our own couplings are by no means as simple and direct as those of animals, and desire itself is by no means enough. If you know the character of your young lady well, consider that her heart must also be charmed, and she may have ideas as to the kind of man that she would prefer to join in marriage."

"For sure, one without too much mud on his clothes." Darcy said with a smile as he mounted his horse. "How this has happened, Clover, I cannot fathom, but this discourse of ours has made things clearer in my mind, and I am thankful for that. If you are in the neighborhood later today or tomorrow, perhaps we could have a walk or a ride together, for in truth I sometimes find my aunt's estate and company somewhat stifling. I will definitely tell Richard that I have met you, and I expect he will wish to join us."

Clover showed himself pleased to receive this invitation and added that at least for this week he could be found at his brother's estate, Summit, on the road to Westborough. Darcy encouraged him to come to Rosings the next day at lunch or tea-time. Both men rode their horses at a slow pace back to the path before taking their leave of each other, going from there in opposite directions. In his own mind, Darcy was already writing two letters, one to Charles to encourage him to return to Netherfield as soon as possible, and another to give to Elizabeth, to explain the matter of Wickham. He intended to express himself as openly as possible, for disguise of every sort was his abhorrence.

At the same time, Darcy felt curious about the story of this man that he had encountered by accident, and decided to find out what he could from his cousin Richard. Once he had returned to Rosings and changed his clothes, it was nearly time for lunch. The scene at Rosings was no more or less than he could expect: in the grandly furnished drawing room, his aunt alternated between a series of orders to her steward and servants, instructions to her daughter Anne concerning the best way to care for her health, and reprimands to Richard for his informal style of dress and speech. Lady Catherine de Bourgh was approximately fifty-five years old and had been a widow for almost twenty. Her silver gray hair, her height of barely more than five feet, and her slight build contrasted with the penetrating gaze in her eyes, the rigidity of her posture and the authoritative tone of her voice. Her daughter Anne, twenty-four years old, had the same slight figure and the same oval face, but her complexion was pale, her gestures were always understated, and her gaze seemed withdrawn, almost pained. At this moment she was looking out the window at the flower garden. Richard was sitting on one of the couches with his legs stretched out and Darcy heard him say "Yes, Aunt Catherine" a couple of times in a bored voice.

Darcy issued a civil greeting to everyone, without forgetting the harried steward. In truth, all except Lady Catherine seemed relieved to have been interrupted. Anne asked him if he had enjoyed his morning ride, and he answered that apart from a slight mishap with his horse, he had. Lady Catherine stressed the importance of punctuality at all family meals as a sign of respect and propriety. All those present stated their agreement in order to avoid the extension of the lecture for another twenty minutes.

When they were all seated at table and the food was served, Darcy turned to his cousin and said, "This morning I met a quite interesting man during my ride, who says that he has known you for a long time. His name is John Robert Clover."

Richard's expression brightened instantly. "Good old Jack! I have wondered for quite a time what that character is doing! Did he seem well to you? And what brought him to this area?"

"He was in excellent spirits, I assure you. His brother lives at Summit, a nearby estate; Clover must have been visiting him. He was quite pleased to hear that I am your cousin," Darcy replied.

"That brother must be Mr. James Daniel Clover," interjected Lady Catherine, "and his estate is some ten miles to the west. A minor gentleman, of the sort that we may entertain and visit occasionally, but not one that can aspire to equality of status with our own family."

"Mr. Clover of Summit is quite a kind man," said Anne with a wan smile, "and he is an expert on flowers and plants." Everyone was quite surprised, for to hear Anne say more than ten words in a minute at table was considered unusual.

"He does understand the value of proper conduct and due deference," Lady Catherine grudgingly admitted, "although not as well as Mr. Collins." Mr. Collins was renowned for his complete agreement with all the views of his patroness.

"Darcy, I imagine you wish to ask me about Jack Clover's character," said Colonel Fitzwilliam as he leaned forward slightly. His tone then turned solemn. "We are all family, and a family known for its discretion, but may I have assurance from all of you that what I will tell you now shall not be discussed with others?"

Everyone instantly agreed, and then the Colonel continued. "Clover is a Colonel in Her Majesty's Army, but his work during the war has been such that the kingdom's enemies are quite incensed with him and would not hesitate to avenge themselves. He excels in the art of confounding politics and frustrating hopes."

"What does that mean, Fitzwilliam?" Darcy asked.

"Warfare is a grim and ugly business," the Colonel said, "where the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and the unexpected enemy of my enemy is an even greater friend. Clover did as much as anyone, especially in Spain, to provide us with many of these even greater friends, creating serious difficulties for the French behind their lines or even within their own camp. Bonaparte himself admitted that his defeats in Spain were the beginning of his downfall and Clover's work was to make contacts with all the small armed bands of the Spanish resistance, effectively placing the French under attack from all sides. Delivering arms, providing news of French movements and plans, organizing the best moment for attack -- Jack had a hand in all of it."

"He must be a master of secrecy then," said Darcy with some admiration.

"You would not believe how suited he is to these tasks," Richard replied. "His father was a diplomat and he lived as a child in many countries, absorbing languages and knowledge of customs wherever he went. He speaks several languages like a native, even those of the subjects of the Ottoman Empire. He could dine in style with the noblest members of our government and within ten minutes escape unnoticed in the guise of a footman or a goatherd. Britain is fortunate that he is a great patriot; otherwise he would be quite a dangerous man."

"How exciting!" said Anne with a smile, "he sounds like a character in a children's tale of pirates."

"Not an appropriate sort of man for you, my dear," her mother commented sharply, with a penetrating look at her nephew.

"He seemed quite perceptive and intelligent during our meeting today," said Darcy.

"Do not misunderstand me," Richard added, "his work is a serious of devious adventures, but as a man he is most honorable and decent. I hope only that his spirit has not been broken by his injury and ... "

"He mentioned a serious injury, but his spirits seemed quite intact to me," Darcy said.

"Our Generals foolishly insisted on returning him to the battlefield," said the Colonel, "where a French officer apparently recognized him and directed an immediate attack at his sector. This was foolhardy, for it opened a breach in the French lines that we exploited successfully. Jack was wounded quite severely and left for dead. From what I hear, he limped his way halfway across Spain and Portugal to reach safety. I was surprised to see him in London after we returned to England. Now that Napoleon is confined to Elba, I imagine the War Office knows not what to do with a man like Clover."

Darcy thanked his cousin for the enlightening tales and then excused himself to go to the study. The text of the letters was already taking shape in his mind. As soon as a servant brought him a quill pen and fresh paper and ink, he began.

"My dear friend Bingley,

I fear this letter may come to you as a surprise. When I convinced you to leave Netherfield for London, and to cease your attentions to Miss Jane Bennet, I was laboring under the weight of misconception and prejudice. On the one hand, your sisters repeatedly sought to impress me with the impropriety of connecting yourself to her family, but what held the most weight for me was my own view that the young lady seemed pleased by your devotion to her but did not seem to feel the same for you. Thus I encouraged you to depart, without sufficient thought as to whether my perceptions might have been mistaken, but presenting my opinion as an indubitable fact.

Since then, circumstances have changed my thoughts. My presumption to know the sentiments of another only through observation led to officious interference on my part. I would encourage you to resume your contact with Miss Bennet and thus form on your own a clearer opinion of whether she reciprocates your attention and whether you would consider forming an understanding with her. In spite of my words to you earlier, you may be pleasantly surprised, and do not let the considerations of your sisters, the society of London, or anything else sway your mind once you are certain. For my part, I can only say that Miss Bennet seems to me the kindest and most courteous of souls and I discern no quality of her character that would deem her unsuitable for you.

However, the issue is not my opinion, but your own. I would not be a proper friend for you, Charles, if I expected you to take my advice blindly on an issue on which you would be more qualified to judge by yourself. Nor would I if I acted in any way that would harm or prevent your happiness. I apologize deeply to you, for I fear I have done exactly that. I can only wish you the best of luck and add that I look forward to seeing you soon, in London or at Netherfield.

Yours,
Fitzwilliam Darcy

P.S.: Do not trust your sister Caroline. It has long been clear to me that she intends to match you with my sister Georgiana and herself with me, although there is no reasonable prospect of either. She has told me that she would intercept any efforts by Miss Bennet to contact you and I shamefully admit that I did not dissuade her from this course of action. You have every right to be angry at me for this."

Then he proceeded to pen a second letter, which was much more difficult for him. What standing or right could he claim in order to warn Elizabeth about Wickham? He could only express his concern that the people of Meryton would not fall victim to his deceptions.

"Miss Bennet,

I write this letter to you in the strictest confidence, hoping that eventually it may save unsuspecting souls from harm. Since I observed the presence of Mr. Wickham in Meryton, I have been most concerned for the fate of any that may associate with him. Please allow me to explain the reasons ... "

Darcy first explained the history of his own family's acquaintance with Bernard Wickham, his father's steward at Pemberley, and his own acquaintance with the son. He mentioned his father's provision to provide George Wickham with a living at Kympton, and how Wickham had refused it and accepted three thousand pounds instead, as payment of expenses for his intended study of the law. He mentioned how many merchants and tradesmen from Lambton came forth upon his departure for debts that had been incurred by him and charged to the Darcy estate. Two years later, Wickham had met Darcy in London, admitted to having abandoned his studies, if he had ever in fact begun them, and requested the living or further financial assistance. Upon Darcy's refusal, a bitter quarrel had ensued, and the two did not speak again for years.

In his attempts to describe Wickham's seduction of Georgiana at Ramsgate as politely as possible, Darcy's emotions overwhelmed him and he made the page a mess of inkblots and corrections. It required him an hour to formulate the proper words and write them legibly. Hoping that Elizabeth would read the letter before returning to her family, he offered Colonel Fitzwilliam as a witness. At the end, he placed his trust in her.

"You may feel at a loss as to why I have shared this knowledge with you. In our limited acquaintance, I have been impressed with your honesty and character, as well as your care for the well-being of those close to you. My family's misfortune at the hands of Wickham has long been a source of shame and distress to me, but it would be remiss of me to allow my own shame and reticence to become a cause of distress to others. I would not want to see your family and the good people of Meryton wounded by the actions of a master of deception. I am not wise or knowledgeable enough to instruct you to reveal or conceal the contents of this letter; I only ask you not to mention my sister's name in conjunction with them, for she is most dear to me and I wish to protect her reputation and well-being above all. Having sisters yourself, I am certain of your ability to understand. I encourage you only to protect from harm as many as is possible, and do not hesitate to enlist my aid or to direct me to any course of action for this purpose.

God bless you,
Fitzwilliam Darcy"

Once he had sealed the envelope, he breathed a sigh of relief. Considering his encounter and the story of Colonel Clover, he decided that disguise of some sorts, for purposes of honor, could even be legitimate. He decided on a plan to ensure that Elizabeth would receive the letter without any scrutiny or accusations of impropriety on the part of others. As for the letter to Bingley, he entrusted it to a servant for delivery by express. Since he felt somewhat drained of energy, he joined his relatives for tea and afternoon refreshment and then suggested a game of billiards to Richard, rather than their more vigorous activities of riding, hunting, or fencing. He was pleased to hear that Mr. and Mrs. Collins and Miss Bennet had been invited to visit the estate the following afternoon and stay until supper. Richard suggested sending a note to Summit to invite Clover and his brother as well; possibly the four of them could ride to a nearby village or a friendly alehouse. Apparently, in the British army the officers became quite proficient at locating the best source of alcoholic beverages.

Chapter 2: Messages Delivered

Posted on 08 March 2007

The next day was quite sunny and pleasant. After breakfast, Darcy and his cousin engaged in a fencing match. This was vigorously contested, as all their matches had been since their youth, although their earlier jousts had tended to end in wrestling and horseplay. They received word that Jack Clover would be joining them in the afternoon for a few hours, although his brother would be unable to attend, being detained by estate business. Darcy was eager to see Elizabeth and her bright eyes again. Most of all, he wished to show her that he could be a better man than he had seemed until then.

At tea-time, the Hunsford party arrived. Mr. Collins was a short and fat man with oily black hair, a loud voice, and a way of nodding his head at the end of every sentence that reminded one of a giant parrot. Mrs. Collins, formerly Charlotte Lucas, was a slender brown-haired woman close to Darcy's age, whose appearance displayed character and intelligence rather than any particular beauty. However, any thoughts of her intelligence were often suspended by those that beheld her in the company of her husband. Miss Maria Lucas, Charlotte's younger sister, was a timid girl of sixteen, too much in awe of her surroundings to participate in any conversation.

As always, Miss Elizabeth Bennet stood out from the others in her company. Her bright smile, her vivacious eyes, her pleasing figure, and the rosy glow of her cheeks could not avoid arousing attention. However, what attracted Darcy's attention to her the most at this moment was not her attractive appearance, but the way that she was gently holding Miss Lucas's hand and giving her an encouraging smile intended to dispel her shyness. She would be a perfect friend for Georgiana, he thought instantly, if only they could have the occasion to meet.

After all the requisite polite greetings, curtseys, bows, and handshakes had been impeccably performed (in part out of good breeding, but also due to a fear of disparaging comments from the hostess), the assembled company sat down and the servants began to bring tea and cakes.

"Your Ladyship," began Mr. Collins, "allow me to say that we are most grateful for your generous invitation to partake of refreshment at your dignified and venerable estate on this exceedingly pleasant afternoon. Your Ladyship's patronage is a blessing for which I thank the Almighty several times a day, and I am certain that my wife shares my humble sentiments." Nod, nod went the clerical head, which Darcy could easily picture surrounded by brightly colored plumage similar to Caroline Bingley's headdresses.

Darcy knew from his experience in Hertfordshire that the best way to forestall Mr. Collins' obsequious pronouncements was to take the offensive. "Mr. Collins, Mrs. Collins, Miss Bennet and Miss Lucas, it is a great pleasure to see you once again." Mr. Collins, though quite verbose, was too polite to interrupt a relative of his patroness.

"Anne, make sure not to eat any of the almond cakes or the raisin muffins," said Lady Catherine in a scolding tone, "they would unsettle your delicate digestion."

Anne was so mortified at being criticized in company that she was unable to respond. Darcy decided that his cousin required some assistance. "Actually, Aunt Catherine, yesterday Anne told me that Dr. Mayfield had encouraged her to vary her diet more, in order to improve her health." And in an effort to change the subject, he turned to the ladies of the Hunsford party and asked for their opinion on the differences between the countryside of Hertfordshire and Kent. He was rewarded with brief smiles from both Anne and Elizabeth. However, while the ladies were still considering their answers, Mr. Collins decided to interject his own opinion.

"No doubt that no county in the realm can possibly compare to the natural beauty of this area, which I have the honor to claim as my abode, embellished as it is by the sublime presence of Rosings Park."

Colonel Fitzwilliam, as a skilled military tactician, ventured into the breach. "Right, we all prefer the county where we were born, or where we have chosen to live. If we had asked my cousin Darcy, he would be almost as eloquent in describing the beauties of Derbyshire. But I believe he solicited the ladies' opinions."

"As I have lived in both counties but do not know the others very well," said Mrs. Collins, "I can only say that both Hertfordshire and Kent possess their own attractions; each is pleasant in its own way."

"Miss Bennet and Miss Lucas, since you are both recent visitors, your opinions would be even more interesting to hear," Mr. Darcy added.

"I agree with Charlotte," said the latter lady with a blush.

"The park and the countryside between Hunsford and here are quite pleasant," said Elizabeth, "but my own preference runs more to hills and forests, to untamed nature that I can explore in all its variety."

"Young ladies should not spend too much time gallivanting in the countryside, to the neglect of their proper education," said Lady Catherine.

"I can assure you that Miss Bennet is a very well-read and accomplished lady, with whom I have discussed many interesting works of literature," Darcy replied, "and her musical performance is enchanting."

"Mr. Darcy!" A slight astonishment could not be hidden from Miss Bennet's voice. "I had the impression that in your opinion, the number of truly accomplished ladies could be counted on the fingers of one hand." Yes, and you are among them, Darcy thought.

"Including without a doubt Miss De Bourgh," said Mr. Collins, "who would certainly become the brightest star in the firmament of London society if only her health could allow her the exposure to it."

A knock at the door was heard before the reverend could continue his words of praise. A servant entered, reading a card. "Your Ladyship, Mr. John Robert Clover." The mistress of Rosings Park nodded to indicate that he would be allowed to enter. A few seconds later, Clover entered, in slightly more formal clothing than he had worn the day before.

"Your Ladyship," he bowed to Lady Catherine, "I thank you for allowing me to visit and hope that your nephews' invitation to me caused you no inconvenience."

"Spoken like a true son of a diplomat, Jack" said Colonel Fitzwilliam, receiving a barely noticeable wink in response.

"They would invite whom they wished," said Lady Catherine in glacial tones.

"Welcome to Rosings, Mr. Clover," said Anne, "I have met your brother and hope that you will send him our regards." At this point, she rose and curtseyed to him, which Darcy could not remember seeing her do in the last ten years. Could she have developed an attraction to him due to Richard's story? Her curtsey was followed by those of the other three young ladies.

"Most definitely, and James sends his regards as well," was Clover's response.

"Your brother, Mr. Clover, is among the most Christian and charitable of the parishioners," said Mr. Collins after half a second with his head bobbing up and down again, "although he does not possess the means or rank to grant condescension on the level of my revered patroness, our hostess on this blessed day, whose will God has made it my humble mission to serve ... "

Darcy cut off the parson's volubility by performing the neglected introductions. He was careful to introduce Clover as a friend of his cousin, not an officer of the kingdom and especially not as a witness to his own landing in mud. Clover bowed courteously to the ladies, and upon hearing Miss Bennet´s name, he cast an enquiring glance at Darcy, who answered him by lowering his head an inch or two. Truly, Clover was a master of secrecy even in conversation.

"Mr. Collins," he said, "in many countries where I have traveled they say that too many words of praise provoke misfortune." This silenced the parson but caused Lady Catherine to gaze upon him with evident discomfort and ill-feeling.

"Where have you traveled, Mr. Clover?" Elizabeth asked, "Yours must be a quite interesting life."

"Portugal, Spain, France, many regions of Italy, and various provinces of the Ottoman Empire," said Clover, "my late father served the foreign office as consul in many postings, and my brother and I learned the language wherever we went. My parents used to say that it would be a grave misfortune to see us knowing only English. But I have no wish to monopolize the conversation with my tales."

"Did you not have a proper English lady as governess?" asked Lady Catherine.

"My mother was always assisted by local ladies in my upbringing. I have never had an English governess, although my brother did briefly have an Irish one."

"In that case we have something in common," said Elizabeth, "for I had no governess either."

Darcy found that the words were out of his mouth before he could consider them. "More than a dozen governesses, I would rather have had my parents with me for more years."

However sincere he wished to be, this personal of a statement was far beyond his intentions.

"Nephew, I am most put out! Have you no propriety, to parade your feelings in mixed company in this manner?" There was only one person among the present company who could have reacted in this way.

"Your Ladyship," Elizabeth replied, "if Mr. Darcy feels some pain for his loss, it may be better for him not to conceal it."

Darcy felt a chaotic mixture of emotions. Mortification for his overly revealing slip of the tongue, anger at his aunt's consistent censure, and most amazingly, pleasure at being defended by Elizabeth and actually sensing her compassion for him. "I apologize for upsetting you, ladies." Four female voices assured him that no harm had been done.

"I miss my father too," said Anne. "In fact, I barely knew him. And Fitzwilliam, you do have a sister, as I do not." Miss De Bourgh took a discreet bite of almond cake after saying this.

"Please!" Colonel Fitzwilliam interrupted. "This talk of loss and pain will make all of us lose our appetite and make these excellent muffins go to waste. We need something to brighten our spirits! Miss Bennet, would you be willing to entertain us with some music?"

Elizabeth responded to this request with an unabashed smile. "I would be most honored, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Would you be willing to turn the pages for me, or are the muffins a greater preference?"

When Fitzwilliam agreed with alacrity to turn the pages, Darcy was frustrated that his plan might come awry. However, with the presence of two Colonels in the room, he concluded that losing a battle did not mean losing the war: he should only find the right moment to act. With this in mind, he proceeded to the music room with the others, as he heard Clover ask the other ladies whether they also played the pianoforte or another instrument. Maria Lucas admitted with only half of her breath that she was still learning to play the harp. Miss Anne said that her own instruction had been limited by her ill health, although she continued to practice occasionally.

Once the entire party had assembled in the music room, Elizabeth began to play a piece by Mozart. In spite of the occasional fingering mistake, her style of playing and singing betrayed a combination of passion and sensitivity. Darcy could only watch her in rapt attention, while envying his cousin for his proximity to her. If only they could be at Pemberley at this moment, in the music room there, and he could be the one turning the pages, standing close enough to her to discern her perfume. Or for that matter, he could even imagine Elizabeth playing a duet with Georgiana; it would be exquisite to see the two young ladies that were foremost in his thoughts joined in the performance of music. The enchantment caused by Elizabeth's performance on this occasion was such that even Lady Catherine was unable to utter a condescending remark. Colonel Clover applauded enthusiastically, and within a few seconds the others responded to his enthusiasm.

Darcy was surprised to be the first to speak. "Miss Bennet, I have but one word to describe your performance: sublime. Your love for music is evidently as great as that of my dear sister."

"Please, Mr. Darcy, your flattery shames me," said Miss Bennet with a slight blush. "Mr. Clover, what did you say earlier about words of praise?"

"Behold, I am trapped by my own words!" Clover exclaimed in mock horror. "If that is so I will not speak my words of praise, Miss Bennet, but do consider them spoken and as truly felt as Mr. Darcy's are."

"Rather than embarrass you with praise, Miss Bennet," said Colonel Fitzwilliam with a broad grin, "I would invite you to continue your performance and our pleasure."

Elizabeth agreed, after requesting a moment to decide on the next piece that she would play. This time, her choice was an etude by Beethoven. After that, she played an entirely different song, a Scottish highland air. Beyond the feeling that was evident in her playing, her ability to adapt to highly different styles of music was equally impressive. Darcy saw his opportunity.

"Miss Bennet, in view of your skill at the pianoforte and your knowledge of music, I would like to ask your opinion of some sheet music that I have purchased for Georgiana. I would request that you examine it at your leisure and then inform me of its suitability." He took the volumes of sheet music, inside which he had hidden his missive, and offered them to her. When he noticed her hesitation, he whispered "Please" to her, and she took them in her hands with a raised eyebrow.

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," she said, "It is a highly unusual compliment to ask me to judge the worth of a present for another, especially for someone I have not even met." This response earned her a glare from Darcy's aunt.

"Would you mind if I played a brief song?" said Anne suddenly.

"Are you certain that your health can withstand it?" her mother asked, just as quickly.

"By all means, Aunt Catherine," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, "if Anne feels able to play, let nothing prevent her pleasure. I am exceedingly glad to see her in better spirits." She smiled at him, which led him to add "You should do that more often, cousin." This comment led Mr. Darcy to smile as well, which evidently disconcerted both Miss Bennet and Maria Lucas.

Anne took Elizabeth's place at the pianoforte, and excused Richard from the turning of pages, since she would play a piece from memory. Her choice was a religious hymn, which led Mr. Collins to assume a countenance of pious contemplation. It was not a difficult piece, but she succeeded in performing it with only one very slight mistake. All her relatives expressed their pleasure at seeing her play, except for her mother, who admonished her not to exert herself excessively.

"Pardon my ignorance," said Clover, "but Miss De Bourgh, what is the name of the song that you performed just now?"

Anne began to answer when her mother took the floor with her more powerful voice. "Why, ‘tis ‘A Devoted Hope', which is sung every year on Michaelmas Eve. Is your upbringing so deficient, Mr. Clover, that you are not familiar with this mass?"

Clover said something under his breath which could only be a curse in a foreign language, and then in a normal voice, "I beg your pardon, Your Ladyship, but I have been in Britain at Michaelmas only twice in the last twenty years, and once I was in hospital."

Some discussions urgently require a change of subject. Darcy's mind was rarely distracted from his new quest, so he turned to Elizabeth and asked her if she had received any news from her home after her arrival at Hunsford, whether her parents and all her sisters were well. Elizabeth answered that her parents were well when she left them, but the only news that she had received since then was from her sister Jane, who seemed to be in rather depressed spirits. "This quite saddens me, I must say, since my sister's disposition is usually full of smiles and optimism. I do believe she had hoped for better treatment from a young man of our mutual acquaintance who quitted the neighbourhood most abruptly, without any known cause." This reference was clear enough to Darcy, and possibly to Richard as well.

"Your sister's sentiments are quite clear to you, Miss Bennet?"

"Jane and I are so close to each other that we could be twins. There are no secrets kept between us, Mr. Darcy."

"The same is true between my brother and myself," said Clover, "since we were small we were taught two things, never to lie to our family and never to hurt our brother."

"Most definitely," agreed Mr. Collins, "dishonesty and conflict within a family are among the most grievous of sins." He had conveniently forgotten the fact that his own parents and the Bennets had been at odds for many years.

"My friend was a victim of mistaken advice," Darcy said, "I have encouraged him to seek his own counsel on this matter and distrust those whose intentions are malicious. In fact," and it this point he paused to seek greater resolve from within himself, "if Mr. Bingley and your sister were to decide that they are destined for each other, I would be the first to wish them joy. And if anyone claims that he seeks an understanding with my sister, that is utterly preposterous, for he behaves towards Georgiana only as an attentive brother." Were he anywhere but at Rosings, he would have added to that sentence the words "as I do towards my cousin Anne," but he did not wish to bring up the subject of his supposed engagement at this moment. He was sufficiently rewarded by observing the change of expression on Elizabeth's face, which was first challenging and doubtful, then surprised, and after that melted into a tender smile. Clover blinked and Charlotte seemed rather pleased as well, since she was a good friend of the Bennet family.

"But Darcy," Richard said, "I was under the impression that there had been strong objections to the lady from his family and friends."

"None that would withstand the test of clear-headed thinking," Darcy said in the most authoritative voice that he could muster.

"Huston! Cleary! Waller!" Lady Catherine rang the bell loudly, "Prepare the dining room, in half an hour we shall dine!"

Conversation at dinner was animated but free of tension, mainly led by Clover and Fitzwilliam. The former man spoke of his travels abroad, of playing with other children in the squares of Florence, in the shadow of Renaissance palaces, and of his first unpleasant experience with Turkish coffee in Belgrade at the age of twelve. He spoke of the pilgrims who walked from Madrid to Santiago de Compostela, and of the color of the sea near Salonica. Fitzwilliam tended more towards anecdotes from the childhood of his siblings and cousins and his own service in the military, which tended to provoke smiles and laughter. Lady Catherine's attempts to censure the party for their levity, excessive in her mind, were unsuccessful, and even Maria Lucas could add a few words of her own. Darcy was pleased to discuss the beauty of Derbyshire and Pemberley, and when Elizabeth pointedly told him that her aunt Mrs. Gardiner, who lived with her husband in Cheapside, was born in Lambton, he stated that should they return to the area, he would be glad to show them the grounds of his estate.

Once the meal was concluded, the carriage was ordered, so that the guests from Hunsford could return home before it was too dark, while Clover would ride back to Westborough Summit on his horse. After farewells had been exchanged and the ladies had been handed into the carriage, with Darcy briefly kissing Miss Bennet's gloved hand, the three gentlemen were left alone in front of the house.

"That was a most enlightening evening, gentlemen," said Clover to Fitzwilliam and Darcy, "your aunt clearly considers me a piece of pond scum."

"Her Ladyship possesses antiquated ideas," said Richard, affecting the tone of a speaker in the House of Lords, "and for her, a man without an estate or a title is barely worth addressing. I sometimes wish to tell her that we are already in the nineteenth century!"

The response to this statement was a burst of restrained laughter. Clover invited the two cousins to his brother's estate, and told them that there were excellent paths for riding in the area. He would know within a few days, he added, whether his mare was in foal.

"And by the way, Mr. Darcy," he added in a voice barely above a whisper, "that was quite brilliantly done with the letter."

"What? How did you notice that?" Fitzwilliam Darcy's face turned red. Instead of providing an answer, Colonel Clover merely winked and chuckled.

"Never miss a trick, do you, Jack?" his comrade in arms added. "Do not worry, cousin, my lips are quite sealed on this matter. I merely wonder what the young lady will think."

"There is something that she needs to know," Darcy added in a tone that made it clear he would answer no question on that subject.

"I must depart soon if I hope to arrive safely," said Clover as his horse was brought to him. "Richard, do you know why Colonel Voichaux ordered his men to fire at me?"

"Not exactly."

"Because he thought I was his lieutenant. Good night, gentlemen." And off into the countryside he rode.

Chapter 3: The View from Hunsford and Westborough

Posted on 05 April 2007

Elizabeth Bennet had disliked Fitzwilliam Darcy when they first met. In spite of his handsome appearance, at the Meryton Assembly he had displeased all those present with his taciturn bearing, the haughty tone of his voice, and his evident disdain for country society. His refusal to dance with any ladies save those of his own party won him no friends. The contrast with his friend Charles Bingley, who had immediately asked Elizabeth's sister Jane to dance, and had danced with four other young ladies of Meryton, made the general censure of Mr. Darcy even greater. For Elizabeth, however, the most decisive moment was between the sixth and the seventh dance, when Bingley had suggested her to his friend as an attractive and lively dance partner, and Darcy's response was to call her "tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me" and declare that he would not give consequence to ladies that had been slighted by other men. Bingley had been instantly mortified, and such was his shame that he apologized to Elizabeth on his friend's behalf. The gentleman himself, however, had not, and that made all the difference. Had he behaved toward her in a gentleman-like manner, she might have welcomed his attentions just as Jane had those of his friend.

Instead, in all their interactions from that day on, Mr. Darcy rarely gave her cause to regard him as anything but insufferable. They were thrown into each other's frequent company when Jane had fallen ill and was forced to stay at Netherfield, Mr. Bingley's newly let estate, for some days, and Elizabeth arrived there on foot in immense preoccupation. Mr. Darcy was attentive to the elder Miss Bennet's health, Elizabeth would credit him that, and seemed to admire Elizabeth's concern for her sister, but beyond that he observed her only to find fault, expressed his opinions in a brutal and caustic manner, and continued to display pride and conceit. Any displays of courtesy on his behalf, any occasional kind words, seemed to Elizabeth as no more than interludes, the calm before the storm. On her last day there before returning to Longbourn with a recovered sister, she had but one clear thought of him: "Such a man I could never wish to marry."

Another man, a recently inducted officer of the militia whom she met in the village, had impressed Elizabeth much more favorably. Captain George Wickham was undeniably handsome, and had an engaging manner of speaking that encouraged others to join his society. He seemed to have no pretension, and though his lot in life was not the best, he refrained from voicing his displeasure and expressed the will to manage as he could in his current circumstances. His discourse aroused Elizabeth's sympathy, and as their conversation proceeded, he explained that he had been raised in Derbyshire, at the estate of the Darcy family, where his own late father had been the steward and the master was his godfather. "A more excellent and generous gentleman than Mr. Edward Darcy never lived," he had said. His godfather had loved him and raised young George as though he were his own son, even paying for his education at Cambridge. The master's son, however, young Fitzwilliam Darcy, was another matter. In Wickham's view, the companion and playmate of his youth had been jealous of his father's good opinion of another, and this jealousy had led to spite.

"Old Mr. Darcy had promised me a living at Kympton parish," Wickham had stated to Elizabeth, "but his son would not honor his wishes. The informal nature of the bequest, spoken often as an intention but not recorded in the will, allowed young Darcy to deny me and cast me out. Nor would he assist me in finding another profession. I imagine that he considered my presence to threaten his position as the new master of Pemberley." At the time, she had readily believed him, and had even encouraged him to denounce Mr. Darcy so that society would know of his unfair action, but Wickham had claimed that his respect for the late master prevented him from doing so. The fact that Mr. Wickham was not present at the Netherfield Ball a few days later, and her own conclusion that Mr. Darcy must have told his friend not to allow the man's presence, only increased Elizabeth's sense that he had been wronged.

As she sat in the Collins drawing room reading the letter that Mr. Darcy had secretly given her the previous evening, Elizabeth could not avoid comparing the two versions of the past offered by the two men. She was alone, for Mr. Collins had gone to the church and Mrs. Collins and her sister were visiting a neighbor. After briefly perusing the sheet music, she had found the folded paper, and felt quite perplexed: what need did Mr. Darcy have to communicate with her with such secrecy, and what made him act in such a daring way? She had two choices: she could either be missish and burn the letter as an offense against propriety or discover the reason from the letter itself. Her natural curiosity and her keen interest in the human character won out and she broke the seal.

"This cannot possibly be true!" she initially exclaimed. "This must be the greatest falsehood!" However, as she read more, she found that Mr. Darcy's version of the story was more convincing, providing information that perhaps had been conveniently left out of Wickham's narrative. After all, he had named precise facts and offered witnesses, including a man that Elizabeth considered honest and trustworthy. What won her mind over definitively was Mr. Darcy's explanation of the plight of his young sister; no man would ever slander his sister in such a manner unless he truly loathed her, and Miss Bennet could attach a number of faults to Fitzwilliam Darcy's person, but his love for his sister could not be denied. His concern for her and mortification at her barely thwarted elopement must have been most intense in order to spur him to write this letter to no more than an acquaintance of his. As she read on, one thought persistently invaded Elizabeth's mind: why is he telling this to me? Had it not been for his behavior since they had first met in Kent, she would have been utterly certain that Mr. Darcy disliked her as much as she disliked him, or had disliked him, since her opinion was slowly beginning to change.

The last paragraph of the letter provided an explanation that made Elizabeth's face and neck change color. For a normally taciturn and apparently unemotional man like Mr. Darcy, these words were completely out of character. How prophetic her words to him at the Netherfield ball, that she had not yet succeeded in making out his character and was frustrated in her attempts, had come to be! In a few lines of ink, he had praised her and expressed concern for the people of Meryton, whom until then he had seemed to consider the most inferior of beings, and then expressed both his own emotion, love for his sister, and empathized with Elizabeth's own position. He even appealed to her judgment and requested her assistance. Had the writing been less steady or covered by a few inkblots, she would have thought that either Mr. Darcy had been drunk or the letter had been written on his behalf by Mr. Bingley. However, that was ridiculous as an idea: Elizabeth doubted that any excessive imbiber could express himself with such fluency, and Mr. Bingley was in London and was not the type to participate in disguises and charades. Besides, the writing was as steady as any that she had ever seen. Could a caring and tender soul be lurking behind the intimidating visage of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy? After all, his behavior towards her the previous evening was markedly different from the past: he had defended both his cousin and Elizabeth herself from his aunt's criticism, even praising her as an accomplished lady. His praise of her performance on the pianoforte, while effusive, was not a completely new occurrence. The presence of his cousin and Mr. Clover may have accounted for some difference in his actions, but not everything. And the most uncharacteristic moment of all was his sudden statement about missing his parents: how many gentlemen with their own estates could possibly have admitted to such a feeling in the presence of five ladies and a military officer?

Elizabeth Bennet reached a new conclusion: Mr. Darcy might not have always been gentlemanly in his actions, nor did he strictly follow the rules of what was proper in conversation, but apparently on a deeper level he truly was a gentle man, one with emotions that ran deep. If, as he said, he encouraged his friend Bingley to renew his attentions to Jane, and would actually wish them joy if they married, then he truly did not consider the Bennet family beneath him. Or if he did earlier, he had now changed his opinion. It was curious that some of his statements lay in direct contradiction to the note that Miss Bingley had left for Jane at Longbourn on the day of the Netherfield party's departure, which indicated that her brother would be eager to renew his acquaintance with Georgiana Darcy. The important part was that Mr. Darcy said he had encouraged his friend to seek his own counsel and discard any malicious words from others; hopefully this meant that Mr. Bingley would return soon to Hertfordshire and to Jane.

In truth, Elizabeth was discomfited by this change in the behavior of Mr. Darcy. An openly disdainful and disparaging man was easier to deal with, or rather to disregard, than a sudden admirer, for it was impossible to reconcile the two opposite examples of his behavior. A friendly and engaging nature was more the mark of his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam or his friend Mr. Bingley, with whom Elizabeth had engaged in most pleasant but definitely not romantically inclined discourse: why should Mr. Darcy reveal it now? What motivation could the man possess to have changed so rapidly? And most important of all, how should she act in response, especially now that she had been entrusted with a most surprising secret?

As she was lost in thought, Elizabeth barely noticed the return of Charlotte and Maria. She heard their footsteps barely soon enough for her to hide the letter. Fortunately the two sisters were talking to each other, which made them enter more slowly.

"It is good to see you again, Charlotte and Maria," Elizabeth said greeting them with a smile. "I trust that your visit went well."

"Yes, Mrs. Hilliard was in quite good spirits and the children were more delightful than usual," said Charlotte. Maria did not say much, but was apparently pleased by having played with the little ones. Mrs. Hilliard had four children, none older than ten.

"In how much time do you imagine Mr. Collins will be joining us?" Elizabeth asked her friend. No matter how much she might try, she could still not reconcile herself to Charlotte's choice of husband or the swiftness of their marriage. For a few days before his proposal to Charlotte, Mr. Collins had also proposed to Elizabeth and had stubbornly refused to recognize her negative answer as anything but a ploy to arouse him further.

"That quite depends," said Charlotte with a resigned air as she sat down, "on whether he is called to Rosings by her Ladyship, some business with the parishioners arises, or he decides to spend time with his bees."

"I should like to have a husband that would pay more attention to me, sister" said Maria.

"All I have hoped for was to make a home of my own," Charlotte said, "and to have pursuits to keep me occupied. After some years in my parents' shadow, I could no longer have expected this. At least we have our garden and our chickens and our cottage, and William has his ministry and his bee-keeping. Together we take good care of each other and will be respected in our neighborhood. I am not romantic like you, Lizzy; maybe when I was as young as Maria I could dream of a man charming me and desiring me with passion, but that never came to pass. Here is my new home and my new family; I will make of my fortune the best possible."

Elizabeth was disappointed to hear this view of marriage from her friend, but she could not have expected to hear something different. Had Charlotte claimed to be enraptured by the married state and praised Mr. Collins as the most loving of husbands, she would have pinched herself to be sure that she was quite awake. Her expectations for a marriage of her own, however, were quite different from what Charlotte had accepted. Forbearance could be a virtue, and at times a quite necessary one, as her sister Mary could certainly tell her, but it was nothing compared to delight and affection.

"Charlotte, Maria, what did you think of the gentlemen that we saw at Rosings yesterday? Is not Mr. Darcy changed from how he was in Meryton?"

"Mr. Clover was definitely one with interesting stories to tell," said Charlotte, "but he gives the sensation of recounting only small parts, and never the entire tale. There is more to the man than he allows to be seen. Colonel Fitzwilliam is a most cheerful man, the sort who will never allow those near him to suffer boredom. And as for Mr. Darcy -- his admiration for you is quite evident, Elizabeth, and I suspect this caused him to behave most unusually last evening."

Elizabeth blushed immediately upon hearing this. Fortunately for her, she could not be teased or interrogated about the cause; further discussion was forestalled by the arrival of Mr. Collins, who began to enquire about when supper was to be served.

Westborough Summit was a modest estate, but a well-maintained and well-situated one. The prospects that it offered, the paths between Rosings and Hunsford to the southeast, the rolling hills to the north, and the valley marked by the village of Westborough, rendered it a most relaxing abode. Mr. James Daniel Clover was pleased to call it his home and tended it to the best of his ability, although his preference was to treat the land as a source of pleasure more than income. He frequently planted new trees and introduced new varieties of flowers, in part for curiosity and in part for the beauty of viewing them. Every time that his brother joined him, some improvement had been introduced, although the changes tended not to be conspicuous.

Jack and James had been born only a year apart, and had grown very close as brothers as they moved with their family to a series of exotic environments from which there had been much to learn. They had both retained many vestiges of this unusual childhood, but in different ways: where the younger brother had come to employ his knowledge of languages and foreign customs on missions for the military, the elder had accumulated artifacts, books, and a wealth of practical knowledge, which he sought to apply in his house and land. In appearance they were quite different from each other: Jack had straight black hair, skin darkened and hardened by the sun, and a robust build, while James was slightly taller and more slim, with a pale complexion and curly brown hair. He wore spectacles with a metal frame on his narrow face.

"I have received an express from the War Office, brother," said Jack as both of them sat reading in the drawing room, a frequent habit of theirs when they were not entertaining company. "A week from tomorrow I must report to London for my new assignment. Once I am settled, you might like to come visit me."

"What sort of duties will they assign to you?" James asked as he looked up from his book. He was reading a recent publication of the Royal Geographic Society on the fauna of the Indian subcontinent.

"Good question. Could you imagine me attempting to teach young recruits how to hold a musket and march? It would be easier for me to teach them Portuguese or Greek." Jack put his own book down and took a sip of tea. He drank from a cup made of Italian porcelain from the town of Faenza.

"I do not imagine they will have you there to teach languages, Jack," James said with a roll of his eyes. "Even manufacturing explosives would be closer to your style. Tell me, what was your impression of Miss de Bourgh from yesterday?"

"She is polite, gracious, and most horrendously stifled. Even for her to play one piece at the pianoforte, she had to risk her mother's disapproval. You should invite her here more often, James. She needs to breathe a different kind of air."

"Do you believe that I do not know this?" James had begun to speak in Italian. "I am not a knight errant to ride in on my steed and whisk the fair damsel away from her prison. It is already quite difficult to find the occasion to speak with her without her beast of a mother hearing and criticizing every word."

"But certainly you would like to be," Jack pointed out in the same language.

"I am afraid that you absorbed all of the swashbuckling instincts in the family," James said, returning to English. He emptied his own cup of tea and then took a deep breath. "Besides, ten miles is not far enough to escape the rage of Lady Catherine, who has told half the county that she has betrothed her Anne in infancy to her first cousin, Mr. Darcy."

"ˇPor el amor del cielo, hermano!"(*) Jack now began to speak in Spanish. "I told you that Darcy fell off his horse and onto me as he was on his way to propose marriage to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. If this absurd pact is not in Darcy's mind -- and probably not in Miss Anne's either -- then why should it be in yours?"

"Until Mr. Darcy is married elsewhere, I have no hope. Her Ladyship would only refuse her consent, and knowing her sharp tongue, revile me publicly as an upstart and a rejected suitor aiming above his station. Our father may have served the Crown across Europe, but in her opinion I am only the master of a minor landholding."

"If it were in my power, James, I would take Darcy and Miss Bennet and lock them up in a room with a cleric to give you hope. Not Mr. Collins, though, for such torture is far beyond me."

"You would do that for me, Juan Roberto, without a doubt." James managed to smile slightly. "If only we possessed an estate at the other extreme of the kingdom, then I could create a haven for Miss Anne and me. She is like a flower that has been kept starved of water and sunlight, never allowed to reach her true blossoming and in danger of wilting prematurely. Here she could be at peace, I have seen that."

"Then invite her family here soon," Jack suggested. "I suspect that Richard and Darcy and I could provide sufficient diversion for her Ladyship as to allow you to escort Miss Anne and her companion on another tour of your gardens. She has not yet seen your Wallachian pansies, I believe, nor your fine cypress. Are the grains and beans from Tuscany coming along well?"

As the sun gradually came closer to setting, old Dragomir, a Serbian widower who had served the Clover family for twenty years, came by to light several candles around the room. "Shall I start some fires, gospodine?" (**) he asked James.

"Mnogo dobro,"(***) James answered. As his servant left to bring the firewood, he turned to his brother and said "I wish you could stay longer, brother. It is quite wearying to end each day alone here, beautiful as the house and the grounds are. They require other voices, laughter, more life. This world is not enough for me; I wish to share it."

Notes:

(*) (Spanish) "For the love of heaven, brother!"

(**) (Serbo-Croatian) "Master"

(***) (Serbo-Croatian) "Very well"

Chapter 4: Engagement and Disengagement

Posted on 21 May 2007

The day of departures was almost at hand. On the morrow, Colonel Clover, who due to instructions from the War Office could finally allow himself to be known publicly as such, Mr. Darcy, and Colonel Fitzwilliam were to journey by carriage to London, while Miss Bennet and Miss Lucas would return to Meryton. Possibly in anticipation of his upcoming solitude and possibly due to a suggestion from his brother, James Clover had issued an invitation for all those staying at both Rosings and Hunsford to come to Westborough Summit. Assuming the weather would not be inclement, he had offered an outdoor meal, a tour of his gardens and farmland, and tea at his house afterwards. In spite of her rudeness towards his brother, Lady Catherine -- who never considered herself impolite, only strongly forthright and aware of the faults of others -- decided that it would be inexpedient to shun Mr. Clover's invitation. In her opinion, he was a minor gentleman, but not so minor as to be avoided on all occasions. Besides, in the ten years of their acquaintance, he had admittedly behaved in a respectful manner, never causing her any annoyance.

The skies and sun were favorable to Mr. Clover and his plans on that day. Thus, he was soon engaged in guiding his guests, all ten of them counting his brother, through his gardens, mentioning details of the origin and character of the various flowers, shrubs, and trees that it contained. The ladies, with the exception of Lady Catherine and of her daughter's companion Mrs. Jenkinson, seemed to be most interested in his explanations. The former preferred a garden transformed by human effort into a formal arrangement, rather than a collection of exotic species, and the latter was circumspect not to express or even display an opinion if there was any chance that it might be identified as conflicting with that of her employer. Miss de Bourgh stood closest to Mr. Clover and frequently asked him questions as to the nature and origin of each plant, while Miss Bennet, possessed of a more exploratory spirit, tended to wander to the furthest corners of the gardens, discovering them for her own benefit. Mr. Collins -- for to the despair of the great majority, he was also among the company -- seemed disposed to pray to the Almighty in thankfulness for the creation of such varied and aesthetically pleasant vegetation. Fortunately, he did not pray loudly and did not require others to participate in his pious actions. Miss Lucas stayed close to her sister, who observed carefully the arrangement of the garden, considering whether she could find some idea worth adopting in her own home as well. While the two Colonels were engaged in a humorous discussion of the habits of some of their fellow officers, Mr. Darcy decided to follow his heart and seek out Miss Bennet.

"Miss Bennet, I see that in Kent as well as in Hertfordshire you are eagerly interested in nature," he said as he approached her.

She turned and stayed his progress with a gesture of her hand. "Do not approach too closely, Mr. Darcy, or too abruptly -- we should not alarm the squirrels on the upper branch there." Mr. Darcy did not appreciate having a close encounter with the young lady that he admired forestalled once again by animals, but in the spirit of civility, he attempted to conceal this reaction.

"In that case, we should speak softly and move slowly," he said.

"My sister Kitty is quite fond of drawing the likenesses of the animals and birds that she sees near Longbourn -- or she used to be, until Lydia turned her mind more to the admiration of officers."

"Georgiana is also in the habit of observing wildlife," Mr. Darcy added, "and Pemberley offers her many opportunities to do so. You are of similar tastes as regards nature, as well as music."

The last word made Elizabeth think of the subterfuge that Mr. Darcy had employed in order to give her his letter. They had not had the opportunity as yet to discuss its content, since the rainy weather of the previous days had not allowed them to enjoy the walks that they favored, and their two further meetings at Rosings had been closely supervised by Mr. Darcy's aunt.

"Music and the messages hidden within it," the young lady mused in an even softer voice. "I cannot say that you have bestowed a burden on me with your missive, for I am flattered by your trust and sincerity, but I know not yet what to do, Sir. I do believe you, though." Mr. Darcy almost breathed a sigh of relief after hearing the last sentence.

"Perhaps you could discuss this with your father, or with one of your sisters whom you would trust." Elizabeth blinked at this. Had the proud -- or formerly proud, if she wished to be charitable -- Mr. Darcy expressed trust in the intelligence of a member of her family?

Witnessing these exchanges that were taking place on the grounds, Lady Catherine was unsure which conversation to interrupt. Instinctively, being right-handed, she turned towards her nephew and the guest of her parson and frightened the nearby squirrels and birds by calling out "Darcy, what are you discussing with Miss Bennet? I must have my part of the conversation!" It was just as well that she turned in that direction, for she missed seeing James Clover guide her daughter's hand to the petals of a flower to feel their texture.

"I was enquiring about the welfare of Miss Bennet's sisters," Darcy said in response. Elizabeth continued the evasion by offering news of her own. "Yes, dear Jane is quite well, as she told me in her latest letter. She is presently visiting our uncle and aunt, the Gardiners, in London, and apparently Mr. Bingley discovered her presence there and asked our uncle for permission to court her."

"In that case we must all hope for the best, for their happiness," James said, covertly placing a fresh flower in Anne's hands. Jack echoed his brother's sentiments, as did Richard after a brief hesitation. Charlotte smiled at the news, unless she had also noticed the transfer of the flower from hand to hand.

"Why are the Miss Bennets such a great concern to you, nephew?" Lady Catherine asked in a pointed tone of voice. "By all means it is Anne that should receive your attentions, unless you have forgotten that you are betrothed to her."

Almost every person present displayed a unique reaction. Mr. Collins suddenly looked up from his prayer and visibly racked his mind for a suitably dignified, or rather, pompous utterance. Miss Lucas covered her mouth in surprise. Elizabeth felt her heart sink through the ground and her face reddened, while next to her, Darcy scowled more intensely than he ever had in Meryton. Jack let out a deep breath while rolling his eyes, and then glanced quickly at his brother. Mrs. Jenkinson shook her head slightly, and Charlotte was engaged more in gauging the reactions of the others than in forming one of her own. James whispered something, although it was not clear whether it was to Anne or to himself. Anne had slumped her shoulders and looked at the ground.

"A most unusual betrothal," James said, "sealed by no ring or ceremony."

"That is of no consequence," her Ladyship retorted, with her posture dignified and erect, "This was the fondest wish of Fitzwilliam's mother, my own sister, and myself. While he and Anne were in their cradles, we planned their union, to unite Rosings and Pemberley."

"Oh, come off it!" Jack said, "Even the Turks have begun to abandon such practices."

Lady Catherine's face suddenly became red and she fairly spluttered. James frowned at his brother's impertinence.

"My parents never spoke of such a plan to me," Darcy said in an even voice, but looking directly at Elizabeth.

"Cousin Fitzwilliam, if you agree I will release you from your engagement," said Anne in a barely audible and quickly spoken voice. Next to her, James had taken her hand.

"I would not impose myself upon you, Anne," said Fitzwilliam, looking her in the eye, "I love you as a cousin but have never thought of you as a future wife." Then he glanced around at the assembled group and added "You all stand as witnesses to this."

"You must all think sensibly," Mr. Collins said, "family is of paramount importance, and willfulness bears a close relation to conceit. The Scripture says to honor thy father and mother, and breaking promises is not a proper Christian action. I offer my guidance for a proper resolution of this dispute in accordance with both the laws of God and those of our society."

"William," Charlotte said softly to her husband, startling him with her rare use of his Christian name, "this is between them. We have no cause to intervene."

Lady Catherine recovered her voice and her capacity for invective. "What is this travesty!" she shouted. "Is the noble name of our family to be besmirched by your capricious whims, Fitzwilliam and Anne? I am the closest relation of both of you, and you dare to disregard me in this blatant manner? This is the epitome of scandal!"

"Aunt Catherine," Colonel Fitzwilliam said, placing his hand on his aunt's forearm. "Do you not desire their happiness? It may well lie elsewhere. This may be for the best."

Instead of calming the lady or causing her to consider her thoughts, Richard's words appeared to stoke the fires of her anger quite violently. She began to wave her cane around, shouting "You cannot deceive me! This is a shameful plot! I will carry my point nonetheless! Traitors! All polite society will shun you and disdain your very name! You will be publicly reviled as laughingstocks!"

"Mother, please calm yourself," Anne said. "There is no reason why our happiness should require your anger. Besides, we are guests here."

"Your happiness?" her mother said, as though attempting to pronounce a new word for the first time. "Is it your happiness to unravel your own destiny by causing a scandal, or to wallow in impudence by dishonoring my plans? With Fitzwilliam I have made a most proper and dignified match for you, and you would ruin it in this manner?"

"Nothing is being ruined by anyone, Aunt Catherine," said Darcy. "My cousin and I have merely done what we should have years ago, refused to maintain this concept of an engagement made in our infancy."

"Your words satisfy me not, nephew," returned his aunt. "If you wished for public admissions in this manner, at least you should have proceeded to a marriage proposal!"

"Yes, perhaps I should rectify that now," said Darcy, and prepared to kneel on the grass before the lady that he had come to admire. However, he had barely managed to bend one knee when his gesture was noticed.

"Ah, is that how the land lies?" Lady Catherine proved that it was possible for a voice to be both vehement and sly in the same moment. "What arts and allurements has a mere country miss adopted in order to convince you to abandon your duty to your family? Is this the cause of your breach of decorum, your willingness to attach yourself to a woman of no standing in society, of inferior connections? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?"

If anything, at that moment Miss Bennet was equally surprised as Lady Catherine was. While her early conviction that Mr. Darcy disdained her had been completely dispelled, it would be an incredible effort for her to imagine that he desired her as a wife. Or was this merely an impulsive action intended to irk his aunt even further? How she wished to have an impartial observer next to her who could counsel her on the meaning of this scene!

"Miss Bennet would definitely refresh and not pollute any environment that included her," said Colonel Clover. "And Mr. Darcy, just as much as your own daughter, your Ladyship, has the right to determine where his own affections lie. Their spoken words remain."

Lady Catherine's face turned a deeper shade of red and she began to wave her cane about once again. She turned towards the latest source of her vexation, to shout at him as well. "Colonel Clover! You must have polluted my nephew's mind and addled him with your ridiculous, un-English democratic ideas! Your life abroad has led you to ignore or flout all the conventions of proper society! You are unfit as an acquaintance for any member of my family!" Then, unexpectedly, her words stopped abruptly as her gaze surveyed the remaining grounds, and her eyes focused on the sight of her daughter's arm linked with that of James Clover. "MR. CLOVER! UNHAND MY DAUGHTER THIS VERY INSTANT! YOU WILL NEVER BE RECEIVED -- NAY, YOU MUST NEVER TRESPASS EVEN ON THE ROADS OF ROSINGS AGAIN!!!! IF YOU HAVE DESIGNS ON MY ESTATE, IT SHALL NEVER BE YOURS!!!"

"Miss De Bourgh's hand accompanies mine through no compulsion," said James in a calm voice, "and Rosings is of no consequence to me. For Westborough is closer and possesses a society of its own."

Lady Catherine rushed at Mr. Clover, as though intending to beat him with her cane. However, after a few steps, before either of her nephews could reach her side to restrain her, she sprawled to the ground in a most sudden and undignified faint. The first member of the party to react was Mr. Collins, who immediately began to pray over her prone body. Next came the two Colonels, who dislodged the parson, picked up the fainting lady, and carried her, following James' directions, to the nearest sitting room, where they laid her on a couch. Mr. Clover's servants brought blankets, smelling salts, and water, and a servant was dispatched to the village of Westborough to bring the apothecary. All the guests assembled in the drawing room, waiting for Her Ladyship to revive. In one corner of the room, Anne had begun to cry, and both James and Mrs. Jenkinson stayed close to her, attempting to provide comfort. Mr. Collins began to pray once again over the unconscious form of his patroness. The expressions on Richard and Jack's faces were almost identical, as though each were asking the other what should be done. Advancing armies were a much more familiar concern to them than fainting aunts.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy said in a low voice to Elizabeth, "Forgive me for ever having said the slightest word, or had the slightest thought, against your family. My aunt's actions on this day leave me mortified for life. The words that she spoke are by no means mine."

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said as she attempted to remain calm, "I should not be here now. My very presence, if not my existence, enrages your relative. I would hope -- that we might speak again on a more peaceful occasion. I can trust nothing said in such a heated moment."

Darcy blanched. Had his aunt's goading led him to an action that made him seem impulsive and unreliable -- possibly even ridiculous -- in Elizabeth's eyes? Or was she too frightened of his aunt's, and therefore his family's disapproval, to accept his company? He worried that the scene in the garden had prejudiced her opinion of him. "Please," he said in a low but desperate voice, "Allow me another occasion, Miss Bennet, to speak to you with less -- interference."

"Tomorrow I return to Longbourn," she said, and then raised her voice slightly "and now it is best if Mrs. Collins and Miss Lucas and I return to Hunsford."

Mr. Clover had heard her, and left Anne's side briefly in order to assure the ladies of Hunsford that they were quite welcome if they wished to stay. However, Elizabeth was adamant that she, at least, should depart, Charlotte agreed with her tentatively, Maria was far too shocked to say anything, and Mr. Collins was oblivious to all but his own prayer. Respecting Miss Bennet's decision, Mr. Clover offered the use of his carriage for their return, and suggested that Dragomir accompany them for their safety. Mrs. Collins eventually succeeded in gaining her husband's awareness, and suggested that they return to their cottage. "Your prayers for Her Ladyship, my husband, shall be no less effective from our home. She may recover better with less people at her side."

"Mrs. Collins, I cannot possibly abandon my august patroness at such a tenuous moment!" the parson exclaimed. However, he expressed no disagreement with the idea of the others departing, and soon began to pray again, with his head nodding at the end of every phrase, until he actually fell asleep in his chair, causing several members of the company to sigh in relief. Even his snoring was more welcome than his sententious phrases, since the former required no response.

Anne asked to be allowed to rest, for she claimed to feel unwell. James immediately was all solicitude for her, informing his servants that they must provide her with the most spacious of the guest rooms, the softest pillows, and any other assistance that she might request or require. Indeed, his concern was expressed so intensely -- and in more than one language -- that Darcy worried that he might fall ill as well. When Miss De Bourgh had retired, accompanied by the loyal Mrs. Jenkinson, and the host had returned, apparently placated by the care his servants offered to the lady, it was time for the carriage to depart.

A brief discussion ensued on whether Mr. Collins should also be placed in the carriage, or whether his wishes to remain at Lady Catherine's side should be respected. Although all clearly favored the former course of action, the gentlemen's sense of honor and fairness led them to the latter. Thus Mr. Collins remained ensconced in the chair, and Darcy, Fitzwilliam, and the Clover brothers accompanied the ladies to their carriage. Darcy wished for a romantic farewell with Miss Elizabeth, complete with the promise of future meetings, but the presence of so many others kept him from doing more than handing her into the carriage and whispering "I wish to call on you again, Miss Elizabeth" as she released his hand. However, since she did not react visibly, he could not be certain that she had heard him. He watched the carriage depart with a sensation of despair. When could he see her again, and would he have a chance to prove himself worthy of her? Perhaps he should write to Charles Bingley in order to avail himself of his hospitality at Netherfield again. Only this thought kept him from running after the carriage.

"Mr. Clover," Colonel Fitzwilliam asked suddenly before they re-entered the house, "as your brother's friend and fellow officer I request your honest answer: do you admire my cousin and wish to marry her?"

"Most definitely," James replied. "And yourself, Mr. Darcy?"

Mr. Darcy was still preoccupied with the idea of meeting Elizabeth again in the future; thus, the question had to be repeated to him once the gentlemen had entered the house.

"All of you heard my words in the garden," he said. In the sitting room, Mr. Collins continued to snore, and Lady Catherine was also still unconscious. Jack began to pace around the room, muttering words in several languages.

"Jack, speak clearly," James admonished his brother gently, "what is on your mind?"

"Santiago Daniel," he spoke slowly, "are you aware that your future depends on the frame of mind in which Her Ladyship will awaken?"

"No longer," said James. "If Miss De Bourgh will accept me, she may consider Summit her home from this moment, with or without her mother's consent."

At that moment, Mrs. Jenkinson arrived and told the gentlemen that Miss Anne was asleep. Since she saw that her patroness had not yet revived, she decided to return to her charge's bedside. James offered the possibility of books from the library, or dispatching a servant to bring the ladies any necessary items of theirs from Rosings, but it was decided that before any measures should be taken, the apothecary's opinion would need to be heard.

"A fine mess we have before us, Darcy," Richard commented ruefully.

"You are the fortunate one here, Richard. General Grove will not allow you to delay your journey, and no one will blame you for anything."

"Unless my parents decide that you and Anne have taken leave of your senses. Someone will need to defend you, and I doubt that my brother will." Richard's elder brother, Viscount Geoffrey Fitzwilliam, was not an unfeeling man, but had been raised with great awareness of his expectations as a future earl, and thus held strict notions of rank, precedence, and propriety, even more strict than those of his own father. For this reason, he had vowed to marry no less than the daughter of a titled man, and had recently succeeded in his aim.

On the couch, Lady Catherine stirred slightly and made a noise somewhere between a whimper and a groan, but did not awaken. For a minute all those present remained almost immobile as they waited for any further sign of consciousness, but none appeared. An awkward silence had descended upon the room, punctuated only by Mr. Collins' snores, as the four gentlemen all entertained apprehensive thoughts of their own. Eventually, Colonel Clover suggested a round of port or brandy in order to calm everyone's nerves, and while the others admitted the idea to have some merit, none felt the urge to drink at that moment. However, the drinks were brought out in case anyone changed his mind.

After a silence that defied the passage of time itself, a servant entered, accompanied by the local apothecary, Mr. Samuels. He briefly examined the patient without waking her and shook his head slowly. Then he opened his pack of medicines and brought out a finely ground powder. He explained that this should be dissolved in tea and then given to the lady; it would ensure that she would sleep soundly until the morning. He could make no certain prediction at the moment, but said that if she seemed lucid on her awakening, and had been in good health until now, she would most probably recover fully. He gave Mr. Clover detailed instructions as to what was to be done if she awoke with a fever or with chills, if she was unable to speak, if she did not seem in complete possession of her faculties, or in various other possible conditions. The host actually made written notes of the apothecary's instructions and dispatched a servant to prepare tea. Mr. Samuels recommended that Lady Catherine be moved to a room with a proper bed once the medicine had been administered, and her nephews took charge of this duty.

Upon the return of Darcy and Fitzwilliam, the gentlemen, including the apothecary, began a new conference. The two Colonels could not avoid their departure for London on the morrow; thus, it fell to James and Darcy to ensure the continued care of Lady Catherine and her estate. Her Ladyship, Anne, and Mrs. Jenkinson would remain at Westborough Summit as guests until the former recovered her health sufficiently to return to Rosings. As for the snoring Mr. Collins, he would be returned to Hunsford once he awoke. Until the evening, however, all would remain.

The entire party managed to dine in silence one hour later, although they were far too disconcerted to muster a proper appetite. Mr. Collins eventually awoke and was persuaded by James that he should return to Hunsford, as Her Ladyship was "resting comfortably", and encourage his congregation to pray for the fast return of her health. Besides, as a host and a husband, he should not neglect his duty in those respects. "Your patroness considers family important, and thus would expect you to take prodigious care of your own, Mr. Collins," were the words that finally won him over into nodding agreement and made him take the step of bowing, thanking, and expressing his best wishes for all those present in such a confusing jumble of words and gestures that a stranger might have considered him demented.

The sound of padded slippers took the gentlemen by surprise. Anne entered the room in the same dress that she had been wearing earlier, but with her hair in disarray and her eyes blinking.

"Cousins, gentlemen," she said in a serene voice, "I have had the strangest sensation. Even the air is different here."

"I could only wish for your comfort and contentment, Miss DeBourgh," James said in a voice whose sincerity none could doubt.

"Especially if he could share them with you," Jack added in a pointed voice which once again caused his brother to grimace.

"Is that true?" Anne's face brightened visibly, like a child being promised a long-desired present.

"Miss Anne," James said, standing before her and taking her hand in his, "I would wish for a much more private and romantic proposal, a moment solely our own, and not for your mother's ill-health after an attempt to attack me. However, this is an unusual moment, so I must act unusually as well. I have admired you for years and there is no other lady that I would wish by my side. Would you desire to have Summit as your home, myself as your most devoted and joyous husband, and our destinies joined in life?"

Anne looked ready to jump up and down in happiness. "James, you are a wonderful man! Yes, yes, YES, I will marry you!" As if of one mind, the newly engaged pair embraced, and the other three onlookers wished them joy, making no comments concerning propriety.

"Have you ever seen our cousin so overjoyed, Richard?" Darcy asked, without being able to prevent a smile from appearing on his face.

"But what shall be done about Aunt Catherine?" Richard asked, ever the practical and military man.

"Much as I would like to take advantage of her condition and present her with a fait accompli," James said, "I believe it is only honorable to offer her the best care that I can, and only then bring the issue to her mind once she has recovered. If she wishes to sever contact, the decision is hers to make, but dear Anne, if you believe that your happiness lies with me, here or anywhere else in the world, we shall have a home together regardless of any opposition or obstacle." His newly betrothed lady smiled at him.

"She may consider whether she wishes to become mistress of an empty kingdom," Jack said, "or have a daughter happily married and close by."

"You are a good man, Mr. Clover," Richard said to James, "and I shall be honored to call you my cousin and to have you call me Richard, as your brother does."

James requested that the two cousins both call him by his Christian name and offered his hand to them in friendship. Darcy mentioned that James and Anne would always be welcome at Pemberley, and whatever Lady Catherine may do, he would preserve contact with them.

The outcome was quite fortunate. When Lady Catherine revived the next morning, she had no memory of the previous day's arguments, and took some time to comprehend her surroundings. True to his word, James took good care of her and her daughter and daughter's companion, with frequent visits from Mr. Samuels, while Darcy remained at Rosings to oversee the management of the estate, with the cooperation of her Ladyship's steward. Even when Lady Catherine became well enough to stand and move around the house, it was as though another person had taken possession of her body: she had become a meek and tractable lady, and her former authoritarian and pugnacious nature seemed to have evaporated. Her memory was affected as well; at first, she could not remember the exact number and names of her nephews and nieces, nor many other details of her life, including the plan of joining Rosings and Pemberley that had been her pursuit for the last twenty-odd years. Thus, when she was well enough to return to Rosings, Lady Catherine viewed James Clover as a young man who had been most attentive to her health and welfare and kind towards her daughter, and the master of a pleasant house. In this light, she gave her consent to their marriage a few weeks later. The wedding was planned for the end of May.

Only one member of her family had a reason to be displeased by this recent development. Darcy reached the point of despair as he was in effect obliged to handle the arrangements of two estates at the same time, without the possibility of seeing Miss Elizabeth Bennet or continuing his quest to prove himself a gentleman worthy of her hand. He could only hope that word of his actions might reach her by means of the Collins family. Frequent correspondence became the principal means of salvaging his sanity: his saviours were Georgiana, Richard, the Earl of Matlock and his lady, and to a lesser extent Charles Bingley. The letters of the last man were at times a torture to Darcy for two reasons: they were never completely legible, for Charles had justly earned the sobriquet of "Blot and Splatterley" at Cambridge, and they were filled with rapture due to the continued presence of Miss Jane Bennet in London and in Charles' life. When Darcy had been a guest at Netherfield, Bingley's frequent references to his "angel" and "the loveliest and sweetest creature I ever beheld" had fairly sickened him; now, they only made him wish profoundly to be close to the lady that had won his own heart, in addition to being honestly happy for his friend. However, he persevered, making arrangements with both Lady Catherine's steward and his own, and gradually instructing Anne in overseeing the management of the estate that for all practical purposes had become her own. Anne was only partially willing to administer an estate in which she had felt stifled and controlled as a child; she felt more happiness at the site of her betrothal, her future home. Thus, a greater part of the estate's income was set aside for charity, and for the possibility that Lady Catherine might need further medical assistance in the future. Mr. Clover and Darcy conversed frequently on these subjects, with the former man more interested in the welfare of the tenants than the income produced by the estate. Eventually, all procedures seemed to have been dealt with, and Darcy felt that he could move to his London townhouse with a tranquil conscience, although he would continue to make inquiries from afar. A few days after Darcy was to arrive in London, the Earl of Matlock and Lady Matlock would also journey to Rosings to witness the state of their sister and their niece. The Viscount would remain in London with his wife, while Richard was sent to the Continent once Napoleon escaped from captivity in Elba and returned to France.

Thus, forty days after Lady Catherine's faint, Darcy could finally return to London. His thoughts were focused on the two young ladies most dear to him: Georgiana Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet.

Continued In Next Section