Author's Note: This story is the sequel to "Donwell Abbey is Let at Last?" (at this rate, I'm going to be the sequel queen). It is written in honour of Rachel, who was quite distraught when I sent the dear Colonel off to live in a monastery. Once again, this story also is highly indebted to Marsha's brilliant "The Most Eligible Bachelor at Pemberley". I hope you enjoy it.

Prologue

"Well, what ARE you going to do?" Emma asked me in an irritated voice while tapping her fingernails on the table. "This can't continue forever."

"I know," I muttered half under my breath, all the while not looking up at her. My wife's anger was too much for me to bear. Instead, I stared at the food on my plate and began to push it back and forth with my fork. Pushing my breakfast around my plate wasn't much of a way to start a day, but I wasn't really hungry. The events of the past weeks had my stomach tied in knots.

"George Knightley, you must do something! You started this whole mess, you need to remedy it!" she said with great feeling. "I cannot bear living like this."

"I know, I know dearest..." I muttered again. "I am going to write John for advice."

"John!" she exclaimed in surprise. "I am all astonishment. John wasn't much help with the last muddle, what makes you think he'll be able to help now?"

"Dearest," I said, finally looking up at her. "I am out of ideas. I don't know where to turn. I will write Darcy and Bingley and implore them to meet me in town to discuss this problem as well."

Emma finally cracked a smile as she scolded me gently, "You should have consulted them long ago. It would have been for the best."

I looked down at my plate again. "I know," I sighed. "I know..."

Four days later, I rode to London early in the morning. Darcy and Bingley had agreed to meet me at John's office. John had a very respectable office in a fashionable area of London. His practice was going extremely well and he was quickly making a reputation as one of the brightest barristers in England. However, turning to him for help was still daunting to me. He was still my little brother that I used to pummel for fun when we were young. Yet, he was an intelligent man whose reason I could trust... Charles Bingley was a good man, though a little scatty. He was loyal and trusting to a fault, and I could not ask for a better friend... Fitzwilliam Darcy. I could not think of him without wincing... He was a young, intelligent man, wise beyond his years. Would he be of help or would telling him make an even bigger disaster of it all?

Chapter 1

When I arrived in the front room of John's office, his clerk, Mr. Bertrand Coglin, immediately greeted me. "How are you today Mr. Coglin?" I said as I stepped in the door. Mr. Coglin immediately rose from his desk to greet me. Seeing him almost made me chuckle. He was a bright young man. Emma loved seeing him when she came to town because he was a single man of four and twenty. Tall and slim in stature, with dark brown hair and brown eyes, described by Emma as uncommonly intense and intelligent, she would love to pair him with one of the ladies of Highbury.

He bowed. "Very well, thank you sir."

"My wife would be highly distressed if I didn't convey her greetings as well. Unfortunately, this is purely a business visit to London and she is at home with our son."

Mr. Coglin frowned, "It is my loss that I will not be able to see your charming wife and meet your son. Please send them my regards."

I smiled, "I will. I am expecting Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley..."

Mr. Coglin nodded, "I will show them right in Mr. Knightley. If you will follow me, your brother is most anxious to see you."

I followed Mr. Coglin as he walked to John's office, knocked on the door, opened it, motioned for me to enter, then closed the door behind me. John's office was fairly spacious, with a large desk, and several leather chairs stationed in front of it. I snickered when I saw his desk. I assumed it was cherry, though it was a guess. The desk was covered in papers and was such a mess, I couldn't see the tabletop. John was not amused. He pushed away from his desk and rose to greet me. "I wouldn't laugh at me brother, for you are the one who came here for assistance."

I shook my head and said with a smile, "You never could keep anything orderly..."

"And who are you, my mother or my wife?" he asked with a sneer.

"I am sorry John. I didn't come all this way to put you in a tiff. I came for your advice," I soothed.

John still looked vexed. "How is Little George? Can he walk yet?"

"No, he has been trying, but the most he can do is stand with assistance."

John finally smiled, "Enjoy this time, before he starts walking, running, jumping, and breaking half of the things in your house."

He motioned for me to sit. I sat down and he sat back behind his desk. He suddenly looked serious again, "What is this trouble at home that you wrote me about? Really George, you should be more descriptive in your letters. I haven't the foggiest notion why you've come... I assume you aren't on the lamb again and I need to hide you?" he teased.

"No, I'm not in want of that type of assistance."

He narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow, "The female population of Highbury isn't out to kill you again are they?"

"Nothing that dramatic."

"Then what is it?" Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Come," John called.

Darcy and Bingley entered the room. After we greeted one another and I made the proper introductions, we were all seated.

"When you gentlemen entered, my brother was about to tell me all about his mysterious problem," John said with faint sarcasm. -- I really shouldn't have commented on his desk. Sometimes he can be as prickly as a porcupine.

Bingley chimed in, "Yes Knightley, what is the urgent business that we must all attend to?"

Darcy silenced his brother with a raising his hand. "I believe Mr. Knightley was about to tell us all about our predicament," Darcy said with a nod to me. "I hope you will excuse our interruption."

I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, "Yes, thank you Darcy. I will tell you. Since each of you knows part of the problem, but none of you know the whole, I will attempt to be as clear and detailed as possible."

Chapter 2

"Brother Richard," having nearly conquered his fear of women, was growing tired of life in a monastery and longed to be "Colonel Fitzwilliam" once more. He wrote to me while he was considering his change. Since he had paid to let Donwell Abbey for much longer than he resided there, I suggested that he should move into Hartfield and take up residence there. He agreed and left the monastery to return to Surrey. By the bye, Hartfield was bequeathed to my wife and John's wife upon the death of their father. Neither John nor I were sure of what we should do with it since it fell vacant. Allowing Colonel Fitzwilliam to occupy it seemed the perfect solution.

Upon Colonel Fitzwilliam's arrival at Hartfield, he immediately called upon Emma and I at Donwell Abbey. Though there was some embarrassment all around when we thought back to events that had occurred there previously, the Colonel was most gracious in desiring to forget the events of the past.

The following morning, I rode out to see him at Hartfield. I wanted him to know there weren't any hard feelings and wished for him to feel welcome in Surrey. I knocked on the door and was greeted by a familiar face, the Colonel's butler, Hugo Trent. "Hello Mr. Trent, I am here to see Colonel Fitzwilliam."

Mr. Trent smiled upon seeing me, "Mr. Knightley, how good of you to let us settle in Surrey again. I am glad that you are still willing to see the master."

I smiled back. "It wasn't the Colonel's fault he captivated all of the female hearts in all of England."

"It's very good of you to see it that way. I always knew you possessed a kind and noble soul. Some men are not so generous. There have been many death threats against the Colonel," Mr. Trent replied in a suddenly serious tone.

"Well, no threats from Surrey I trust?" I asked with more than just polite concern.

"No sir. We haven't had a problem yet... Well, I should stop monopolizing your time and show you in to see the Colonel." Mr. Trent motioned for me to follow him. The Colonel was in the library, unpacking his books and arranging the room to his liking.

"Mr. Knightley, this is a pleasant surprise. Thank you for calling on me," the Colonel said cheerfully. "You have caught me in the middle of settling in. May I offer you a brandy?" I involuntarily winced and the Colonel laughed. "I see my cousin's love of brandy has not worn off."

I smiled and chuckled at myself. "Perhaps a touch of Sherry or Madeira would be better."

The Colonel nodded to Mr. Trent. Mr. Trent quickly and efficiently moved and poured a glass of Madeira for both of us. After handing the Colonel and I our glasses, Mr. Trent bowed and left. The Colonel motioned for me to sit and then sat down himself.

"I have come to welcome you back to Surrey and welcome you to Hartfield. I hope your stay here will be less... Eventful than your last," I said with a smile.

The Colonel laughed. "Do you remember the last time we had a glass of Madeira together?" I nodded. "I was under such overwhelming pressure. I thought the world was collapsing in around me. I shall be very happy to live a quiet, normal life here." His eyes seemed to twinkle a bit as he took a deep breath and smiled as he looked about him. He looked quite content.

Just then, Mr. Trent knocked on the door and entered holding a silver tray with a letter on it. "I'm sorry to disturb you sir, but an express just arrived from London. I thought it might be important."

"Thank you Trent," the Colonel said while taking the letter from the tray.

"If you would like me to leave..." I tried to ask.

"No, no," the Colonel protested. "I'm sure it is nothing terribly important. Please stay." The Colonel opened the letter and while reading it, suddenly turned very pale.

"What is it?" I asked anxiously.

"This can't be..." The Colonel muttered to himself in disbelief. His eyes were wild and he didn't look well. "No, no... Oh Lord no! Not again!"

"You look very ill. May I call a doctor?"

The Colonel could barely shake his head in disagreement as he handed me the note. It read:

London
13th June

To the Honourable Colonel Fitzwilliam,

I am writing to inform you of the death of Dr. Fr--d. After his celebrated success with your case, he became the most famous doctor in the world. Money and gifts showered him and he accepted a lucrative position with a university in Germany. Unfortunately, he was not a young man and he passed away in his sleep. He had no heirs and left the bulk of his estate to you and a small bequest to a foundation to build a statute in honour of his mother. After settling the estate, you will receive a little more than one hundred and fifty thousand pounds. I will be in further contact with you shortly and you should receive your share within a fortnight.

Your humble servant,
J. W. Hilbert

I looked at the sum twice. No wonder the Colonel looks so pale! That is quite a lot of money. "Congratulations Colonel! You must be a very happy man!"

"Happy?!" he snapped back. "How could I be happy?" He immediately leaped out of his chair, moved quickly to the brandy decanter and poured himself a large drink. "A single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife," he muttered as he swallowed the contents of the snifter.

I looked at the Colonel with more than a little pity. It was too bad that the doctor was dead. The Colonel may be visiting Bedlam again very soon.

Chapter 3

When I returned to Donwell Abbey, I must have been unusually grave. I went to the drawing room, where my wife was doing some needle work. Just being in her presence can be a comfort to me, so I desired just to sit and watch her for awhile. My dearest Emma was quite concerned upon seeing me. "Mr. Knightley, are you quite well? You have been very quiet since returning from visiting Colonel Fitzwilliam. I trust your visit went well."

"Do not worry darling. I am well... It is just Colonel Fitzwilliam. He is in an odd humour today."

Emma put down her work and looked at me with a look of great puzzlement. "Surely he cannot blame you..."

"No, no," I soothed. "It is nothing like that. The Colonel received some news today that I thought would bring him great joy, but alas. It has not."

"What news has he received?"

"He has received an unexpected inheritance of one hundred and fifty thousand pounds." Emma gasped as I continued, "His reaction has puzzled me greatly. I would have thought that such a fortune would have made him quite happy, but instead he is very distressed. I fear that he may still be suffering under some mental ailment still."

Emma sat lost in thought for a few moments. "Perhaps the Colonel is just upset because he has no one to share his mighty fortune with. I shall introduce him into Highbury society as soon as I can," she resolved.

"Emmmaaaa..." I warned. Inwardly, I groaned. I've never approved of the amusement my wife gains from matchmaking.

My wife fluttered her eyelashes and smiled sweetly, "Mr. Knightley, I am sure the Colonel will appreciate my efforts."

I pitied the Colonel. My wife can be very persistent when it enters her head that she wishes to make a match. -- Little did I know the extent that I should pity him.

Chapter 4

Within a week, Highbury was in a flutter. Word spread fast that Colonel Fitzwilliam had settled at Hartfield and was now in possession of a mighty fortune. First, the Coles went to call on the Colonel, with their single daughters in tow. Next, William Coxe called on him and invited him to dine at his home with he and his two, unwed sisters. A day or two later, Robert Martin called on the Colonel and invited him to Abbey Mill Farm, undoubtedly to formally introduce Miss Martin to him. Every single woman in Surrey bought new gowns to impress him. When he came to Highbury to shop or conduct some business, it became an event. Women were lining the streets to get a better look at him and, more importantly, to allow him to get a better look at them.

Life in Highbury continued much in the same fashion for the next fortnight, until the arrival of a very unexpected visitor... I remember the day well... I was in Ford's to purchase a surprise gift for my Emma, when a large carriage stopped outside. The barouche had a large family crest bearing the name "de Bourgh" on the side. A coachman descended and opened the door for one of the passengers to exit. An older, elegantly dressed woman stepped down from the carriage and motioned for her servant to open the door to Ford's with her walking stick. The woman stepped inside, narrowed her eyes, and looked around the shop. All stopped and stared at her.

Finally, the woman spoke, "Where is Hartfield?" she demanded.

"I believe I can tell you, Madame," I replied with a bow. "I am Mr. Knightley, the owner of Hartfield."

She turned to me and commanded, "Take me to Hartfield at once. My carriage will follow yours."

"I am sorry Madame, but I cannot oblige you," I replied. She seemed to look both surprised and vexed at my response. "I walked from my home here, and as a consequence, my carriage is not here for you to follow. However, I would be happy to accompany you to Hartfield to insure that you are not lost."

The woman looked at me with some contempt. "Very well, you may ride with my driver. You will be in no one's way there."

I gave a slight bow to the insult. I was not happy with this woman's cavalier treatment of me, however I find it is usually best to hold my tongue.

I climbed up on the barouche as the woman entered her carriage. I had never ridden on the outside of a barouche, so I thought it would be a novel experience, until I felt the first drop of rain.

It was a sudden downpour and I was soaked to the bone by the time we arrived at Hartfield. I immediately climbed down and walked directly to the front door and knocked. Mr. Trent opened the door quickly and motioned for me to come in from the rain.

"Mr. Knightley, you are soaked through. Please come inside and warm yourself by the fire. I believe Colonel Fitzwilliam is in the drawing room," he said with some astonishment.

"Thank you Mr. Trent. You had better see to the occupants of that carriage. I doubt they will be in good humour if they become wet."

Mr. Trent nodded, grabbed an umbrella, and rushed outside as I went to the drawing room."

"Mr. Knightley!" the Colonel declared after I knocked and entered the room. "I am very glad to see you, but you needn't have come in this weather."

"I am afraid I did. A woman demanded that I show her where Hartfield was, so I rode on top of her carriage and showed her driver the way," I replied with a touch of irritation in my voice.

Just then I heard a woman's voice command, "Get out of my way and show me to him!"

The Colonel paled as he groaned, "Oh no, I was afraid of this."

Just then the woman followed by Mr. Trent, a younger woman, and a female servant of some sort entered the room. "Your aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh," Mr. Trent announced.

"What an unexpected pleasure, Aunt, Cousin Anne," the Colonel said with a bow. "I believe you have already met my good friend and landlord, Mr. Knightley," he said motioning towards me. "Mr. Knightley, may I present my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh; my cousin, Anne de Bourgh; and Mrs. Jenkinson. Lady Catherine is also Mr. Darcy's aunt."

I bowed to the ladies as Lady Catherine gave me a nod of her head, Miss de Bourgh a slight curtsey, and Mrs. Jenkinson a curtsey. The Colonel's aunt lacked the easy, cheerful manners of Colonel Fitzwilliam and the grace and tact of her other nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Lady Catherine pushed me out of the way as she approached her nephew. "I am most sincerely vexed Fitzwilliam," she scolded him. "You had not told me of your recent good fortune. I heard the news from Lady Metcalfe who came to Rosings to congratulate me on my relation's good fortune."

The Colonel seemed momentarily flustered. "I do apologize Lady Catherine. I had not thought it a proper subject for a letter to one's aunt. I had thought money too vulgar a topic for ladies." I noticed that the Colonel would not look his aunt in the eye. He was hiding something. However, Lady Catherine seemed content with his explanation.

"Your are a bit too scrupulous Richard. But perhaps you are correct in keeping the news of your good fortune to yourself," she replied.

Suddenly, Lady Catherine turned towards me and narrowed her eyes as if to ask why I was still present. Taking the hint and relieved to be out of her presence I said to Colonel Fitzwilliam, "My wife is waiting for me. I shall depart now."

"No!" the Colonel protested with desperation in his eyes. "It is still raining. I insist that you stay here until the rain stops."

Lady Catherine turned back to her nephew, as she demanded, "Fitzwilliam you shall let him return to his wife."

"But Aunt," Fitzwilliam protested, "His estate is a mile from here and in this downpour he will most certainly catch a cold. I cannot be such an ungracious host."

The aunt turned back to me and narrowed her eyes as she looked me over. "Perhaps you are correct. Send him home in my carriage. They should still be unloading my trunks. Once they are finished, they can take him home."

"Unloading your trunks?!" the Colonel asked with great alarm. His aunt turned back to him and glared. He quickly recovered himself and asked, "How long am I to be honoured by your presence?"

"I am here to teach you how to run an estate and conduct yourself."

"Aunt Catherine," the Colonel protested, "I assure you I know how to conduct myself."

"I am not finished Fitzwilliam!" pounding her walking stick on the ground. "I am also here to protect you from fortune hunters!" Lady Catherine turned back to me and glared, "And I will protect you from less than desirable influences."

The Colonel blushed and stammered at his aunt's remarks. I met her glare with a patient smile.

"Allow me to walk you to the carriage Mr. Knightley and give the directions to the driver," Colonel Fitzwilliam offered, gingerly skirting around his guests and leading the way out of the room.

Once we were in the hall, the Colonel began, "Mr. Knightley, thank you for your kindness and patience..."

I raised my hand to stop him from going on. "Think nothing of it Colonel." The Colonel smiled. "I hope you have a very nice visit with your relatives," I teased.

The Colonel rolled his eyes as he showed me outdoors. "I'm sure it will be a visit to remember," he groaned.