A King's Tapestry

A King's Tapestry -- Section II

By Karen R

Part 10

Day 2, 11:00 p.m.

lice, the upstairs maid, was about to bring a fresh pitcher of water to Miss Bennet, when she discovered the mistress of the house--Caroline Bingley--in a collapsed state on the floor outside of the ailing Miss Bennet's room. Alice quickly summoned Mrs. Hurst and Fossett, the butler, who rang for the footmen, who carried Miss Bingley to her own room. There her sister applied smelling salts and gentle patting on the hand to bring her out of her spell.

"Caroline, you gave me quite a start. I thought that the influenza had struck you next and that soon some one would suggest that a quarantine be imposed on this house, with us and all the Bennet girls inside for an undetermined length of time."

"Then, you know I do not have this influenza?"

"Yes, of course. You have no fever that I can tell. Why are there other symptoms?"

"Other than the feeling that my life has no meaning, that all I have endeavored to do has come to naught, that I shall become one of those spinster women that have put on the cap and one sees always seated at balls. Is there a cure for these ills?" With that outpouring, Caroline let forth with another from her eyes.

"My dear, you must not cry. There, there, my dear, big girls do not cry."

Between her sobs, Caroline managed to respond, "Who said, they don't cry . . . aye . . . aye . . . aye?" Her tears, however, could not be stifled. Stumbling over to a large bureau, she pulled open a drawer and produced a gleaming knife. "Is this a dagger which I see before me?"

Oh not that again. This is becoming so tedious, Louisa thought. 'Tis a waste that Caroline's arts could not be appreciated on the stage. "Caroline, darling sister, you must tell me what has caused you such distress? I know of nothing that can be as abhorrent as you have portrayed it."

"In passing Eliza Bennet's room, I chanced to overhear her speaking to Jane about a most indecent encounter she had with Darcy playing the piano-forte in the ballroom, while she was only clad in a dressing gown."

"Did you hear Miss Bennet say it was Darcy?"

"No. I happened on the scene after she had begun."

"I thought as much. I have it on good authority that Mr. Darcy does not play the piano-forte. Also, have you not observed that the ballroom in this house similarly lacks such an instrument?"

"But sister, both you and I know these things do go on in country homes. One hears stories of clandestine assignations being quite common among a certain set. That and the fact that Darcy commented to me about her 'fine eyes,' I could well believe that this terrible event did occur. Here in this very house."

"Yes, that would be at Lord S_______'s and at the Duke of M_______'s, but I do believe that we may vouch for Darcy's behavior, as he is a gentleman and would never take advantage of a girl, even such a common, country girl as Eliza Bennet."

"Then, what shall we make of my overhearing?" Caroline insisted.

"I believe that we can only make of it that Eliza Bennet has had improper relations with a man in another house. What man? I care not. More to the point is that she is not the virtuous lady she pretends to be and it is a disgrace that she is in this house."

"What shall we do? She is unwell and it would be ill-mannered to ask her to leave."

"We must be rid of her as soon as is possible. 'Tis a shame, for Jane Bennet seems to be such as sweet girl. I would not have minded her company, but under the circumstances . . . we cannot know about her. . . I mean, they were raised by the same parents," Louisa said, raising one eyebrow in a most arch manner.

"Yes, I daresay it is most evident in the youngest Bennet girls for they have not yet learned the art of concealment."

With this final condemnation of the Bennet family, Caroline's hauteur was fully restored. However, the problem of their brother's attachment to Jane Bennet had not been resolved. Their brother must be told of the Bennet girl's disreputable behavior and the other's loss of regard by association. They were quite certain that Darcy would not wish to continue his association with any members of such a family and would likely assist in persuading Charles.

In their final assessment of the evening, before retiring to their respective beds, the Bingley sisters acknowledged a particular need for their campaign. This need took the form of a new ally, represented by the esteemed Mr. Philip Stuckey, Esq.

Part 10 References

Part 11

Day 3, 10:00 a.m.

The following morning, Caroline and Louisa entered the breakfast room and, to their great astonishment, found Mr. Stuckey. As had been discussed the prior evening, the gentlemen were to go shooting and should have departed by eight o'clock. They did not know whether Mr. Stuckey's presence signified that the gentlemen had canceled or otherwise altered their plans. No signs of Mr. Hurst, Darcy or their brother were in evidence.

"Mr. Stuckey, we did not expect to see you this morning. Were you not to enjoy shooting some of the fine game we have on the estate?" Caroline inquired while helping herself to a very little from the sideboard. Her eyes, however, took in a large helping of the statuesque figure alongside.

Not having been schooled in a country gentlemen's pursuits, but not wishing to admit his deficiency to the ladies present, Stuckey pled the opposite. "I had thought I would last night as the party was being discussed. But, this morning, I reflected on my preference for grouse, of which I had my fill in Scotland several weeks ago."

Philip Stuckey had been born and reared in London. His family, while certainly of the middle classes, did not enjoy a country estate. Although he had been invited on occasion to visit the homes of his school friends over holidays and now to the estates of some of his business associates, he had never truly understood what pleasure was to be derived from the organized slaughter of defenseless birds. He much preferred the sport of business, in which he could lay traps for other cunning animals and then demonstrate his own legal abilities to expose their weaknesses and sever their jugulars. He was also not very proficient with a gun.

The three exchanged pleasantries for some time, until Stuckey suddenly realized that Miss Bennet had not come down. He still had much to discover about Miss Bennet and he had planned to continue their conversation from the previous evening. "Is not Miss Bennet to join us?"

Mrs. Hurst replied, "I have learned from the maid that Miss Bennet had requested a tray for herself. She planned to breakfast in her sister's room this morning. Are you dissatisfied with the company, Mr. Stuckey?"

"No, of course not, madam. Who could have any objection to the company present? I was only curious as to her whereabouts." While picking up his cup, he continued, in a most casual manner, "Your brother takes an unusual interest in that lady, does he not?"

Both Caroline and Louisa turned to face each other, each thinking their plans may be more easily executed than originally anticipated. The subject having been surfaced by Mr. Stuckey allowed Louisa to begin.

"Yes, our brother does seem to pay her more attention, a situation which has unfortunately been noted by the entire neighborhood."

"Do I detect some disapprobation in your speech?" Stuckey said, while looking up directly into Mrs. Hurst's eyes.

"We had greatly enjoyed the company of Miss Bennet. You can easily see that she gives all appearance of being a genteel sort of girl. Not terribly accomplished, though, but pretty and well-mannered. I have for some time hoped that my brother would find an eligible match and be as happily married as I have been."

"Has something occurred that would alter your opinion of Miss Bennet?" Stuckey responded while feigning interest in his porridge.

"Specifics on her character we know not, however, the sister. . . .Caroline, perhaps, you should relate the story to Mr. Stuckey as you heard it firsthand."

"I am certain that Mr. Stuckey would not be interested. He has not yet even met Miss Eliza Bennet, the disgraceful sister of Jane Bennet," Caroline replied.

"Miss Bingley, I can assure you that, if you would favor me with your confidences, I may be able to provide counsel as it relates to your brother." Stuckey offered most gallantly.

"Then, what I am about to relate will likely shock you as it did me. Last night, I overheard Eliza Bennet tell her sister about a most improper and indecent meeting she had with a man."

"What was 'improper' or 'indecent' about it?" Stuckey questioned.

"Well, I can think of numerous things. They were alone. She was not properly attired. She permitted his advances. . . . "

"Could you be more specific on the nature of those relations? Seeing the hesitant and slightly embarrassed look on Caroline's face, Stuckey smoothly added, "These may appear to be indelicate questions, Miss Bingley, but please try to think of me as your brother's solicitor not as a man with whom it would be improper to discuss such matters."

Understanding the difference, Caroline continued. She related all the details to Stuckey, who periodically interrupted with questions on not only the meeting but also Jane's reaction to hearing her sister's confidences. Stuckey was well-versed in a barrister's art for interrogatories despite not being one himself.

At the conclusion, he provided a summation, thought deeply over its implications, and then asked the ladies, "Have I understood you correctly that you do not know where, or when, or with whom Miss Elizabeth Bennet had this meeting?" The two sisters nodded in agreement. "And now, Miss Bennet has taken ill and one of her symptoms as I understand it is a stomach disorder?" The two sisters nodded in agreement, again.

"Pray, excuse me, ladies, but I must be indelicate. Do you think it possible that Miss Bennet's relations with this man--and I will not use the term gentleman--could have resulted in her being with child?"

This thought had never occurred to either Caroline or Louisa, but their reactions were immediate. "A harlot in this house!! Louisa exclaimed.

"A harlot and her sister who our dear brother dotes on!! Something must be done. Oh, why do fools fall in love?" Caroline added.

"What a silly question, Caroline. It would be as if to ask why do birds sing? But what can we do? Mr. Stuckey, you were quite correct. Your professional advice would be most welcome." Seeing his nod of agreement, Louisa continued. "We find ourselves in what appears to be a predicament. As new arrivals to Hertfordshire we could not know the true character of these Bennet girls. We relied on the honest advice of other families in the neighborhood, especially Sir William and Lady Lucas. If the true nature of their character were to become known to others, we would not wish to be associated with it."

"Then, this information must be supplied by a person unrelated to anyone here and, preferably, after you have left the county."

"Yes, yes, we must find a way to leave this abhorrent house," Louisa readily agreed.

"Your brother will be difficult to convince as he is much taken by the eldest Miss Bennet. But any connection with a family such as that would be ruinous. I will endeavor to convince your brother, but my arguments would be strengthened by having knowledge of the 'who, where and when' of Miss Bennet's fall from virtue." A gay lady in this house. How very interesting. Perhaps, she would favor me. . . .

"As I said, I heard no more and I would not think that any one other than this unknown man and Jane Bennet would have such knowledge." Caroline responded.

"Is there not anyone who would know of Miss Bennet's acquaintances, where she went, who she spoke with at assemblies, what men paid her attentions, that type of thing?"

"Charlotte Lucas appears to be a very good friend of Miss Bennet's; however, she appears to have some intelligence and loyalty to her friend that, I fear, would not be conducive to your inquiries." Caroline said.

"Then, all that remains are other members of her family. Tell me about them." Oh, the shark has pretty teeth, dear and he shows them pearly white. . . .

Louisa and Caroline provided Mr. Stuckey with their impressions of the Bennet family from the father on through Miss Lydia Bennet. At the end, Stuckey looked pleased and proposed that he should pay a call on the family. Having had no formal introduction, it was decided that Mrs. Hurst and Caroline would accompany him and assist with his undertaking in what ever means necessary.

Part 11 References

Part 12

Day 3, 10:30 a.m.

In Elizabeth's bedroom, the breakfast trays were being removed by Alice, the upstairs maid. Although little had been touched by Elizabeth except for some tea and dry toast, she did own to be slightly better. Being confined to her bedroom for another entire day did not, however, sit well with her. She argued for departing Netherfield that morning, being recovered sufficiently for the journey. Jane would not hear of such nonsense for indeed that is what it was. Both knew that one did not venture out of doors so quickly after a fever, but Elizabeth's dislike of the Bingley sisters was apparently so great as to make her forget her own sense and sensibilities.

Elizabeth then asked about Bingley and whether their relationship was to culminate in a most prodigious and anxiously awaited event. In her modest way, Jane gave every indication of being a woman in love and with considerable urging by her sister, admitted as much. "Yes, I believe I have found a man with whom I could live my entire life. The road is narrow and long, when eyes meet eyes and the feeling is strong. He is the most amiable man I believe I have ever encountered."

"Then you are most fortunate, dear Jane. Mr. Bingley has impressed me with his perfect suitability to your temperament."

"And when shall you, Lizzy, find your perfect match?"

"Not till God make men of some other metal than earth," Elizabeth replied while tossing her head in vivacious laughter.

"Please, Lizzy, can you not be serious for a moment. 'Tis important that I know."

"Why should it be so important?"

Standing up and walking away from the bed and toward a window, Jane replied, "If I knew a certain gentleman had aspirations in your direction and I also knew that you would not receive them, should I not somehow make him aware that his efforts will be in vain and that his feelings will not be returned?"

"Perhaps this illness I have is affecting my head more than I had thought. Did we not discuss that gentleman yesterday?"

"Yes, but as you recall that was before the time I spent with Mr. Bingley. He has told me the most surprising things about Mr. Darcy and his feelings toward you."

"Jane, I believe both you and Mr. Bingley are quite mistaken. Mr. Darcy is a man who, if he were capable of having feelings such as you describe, would surely repress them. Has he so much as even smiled pleasantly at either of us?

"At times, I wonder whether we should place so much emphasis on outward appearance. . . .but I believe, with Mr. Darcy, the evidence is in his eyes. Are not the eyes the windows to one's soul?"

"Then I must be cruel, only to be kind, Jane. Should the subject arise, please be so kind as to relate to Mr. Bingley that there is no hope for his friend."

Seeing the determination in her sister's countenance, Jane knew to broach this topic no longer. Perhaps, Bingley would be more successful with his friend than she had been with her sister. No amount of persuasion on her part would have any effect. Her sister was by far the most stubborn person she had ever encountered. Bingley had been wrong thinking that Lizzy would be flattered and would consequently accept Darcy's attentions when she was made aware of the depth of his feelings. No, Lizzy had taken stock of his character and found it wanting. This is what needed to be addressed. But how shall that be accomplished? He would need to demonstrate the goodness of his character. Was Darcy capable of that?

Elizabeth looked at the odd expression on her sister's face, wondering what thoughts had so overtaken her. "Come, Jane, I sense there are secrets to be had. What have you been thinking?"

"Nothing, Lizzy. I believe you wanted a book. I will see if I can find the one you requested in the library."

"I will go with you. I must have some activity if I am not to go mad. These walls make me think that way, you know."

"Lizzy, you cannot. Not in your condition. That would be insupportable."

The argument continued for some time. Jane, being far too agreeable, could not adequately counter the arguments set forth by her sister. As a concession, however, Elizabeth agreed not to leave her room until more was known of Miss Bingley's and Mrs. Hurst's schedule. Jane was sent downstairs to learn their plans for the day.

Jane returned shortly thereafter, having learned that Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were to take a carriage ride with Mr. Stuckey, who apparently had not gone shooting this morning. Elizabeth looked particularly elated--more so than she had for the past several days--and started to get out of bed to ready herself for emerging from the room.

In a field on the far northern boundary of Netherfield Park, a group of men have been wading through the tall, browning grasses of autumn, when the air erupts with the sound of wings flapping in desperation. All heads turn and focus, while their arms steady themselves for the shot. Aiming upwards, the guns explode with clouds of powder and shot headed for the heavens. Down fall the few and the unfortunate for the hounds to recover.

As the men waited for the dogs to return, Darcy approached Bingley to inform him that he has had enough sport for the day. He remembered he had urgent business to attend to back at the house. Bingley offered to curtail the day's shooting and accompany him, but Darcy insisted on his remaining with his brother and the other gentlemen from Meryton who made up the party. Calling for his horse to be brought to him, he bade the group good-bye and rode off across the field and toward Netherfield.

On arriving at Netherfield, Darcy strode into the hall, where the footman relieved him of his hat and gloves. Calling for a tray of tea to be brought to him in the library, Darcy opened the door and was momentarily taken by surprise to see both Miss Bennets sitting and reading. The ladies looked up at the sound of the door's opening.

"Ladies, I was not aware that you had come down. I was told that you would be keeping to your rooms. Please do not think that I would wish to intrude upon your privacy."

Elizabeth quickly recovered from the surprise and responded lightly, "No, Mr. Darcy, give it no thought. My sister wished me to stay in my rooms, but I found I could not."

Jane, not understanding the reason for the civility in Elizabeth's address to Mr. Darcy, nodded and added that her sister felt a change in scenery and a little activity might prove beneficial.

"You are feeling better then?"

"A little."

"I have called for tea, but is there anything else that you would like?"

"Mr. Darcy, since you are here, you may find it diverting to join us in our reading. I do feel that we are not doing justice to this play."

"What play might that be?" Darcy inquired with true interest.

"We are reading selections from Hamlet and, although Jane does her best, I have difficulty in seeing her as the troubled prince of Denmark."

Jane looked inquisitively at Elizabeth. They had not been reading Hamlet, although she had earlier retrieved the volume from the library's shelf for her sister. What was Lizzy doing? Why was she seemingly inviting Mr. Darcy to stay, to join them when she disliked him so much? These questions would not long go unanswered, as Darcy pulled a chair closer to the Bennet girls and sat down.

"I would thank you for your invitation, Miss Bennet. I do count Hamlet as among my favorites from Mr. Shakespeare. But I must advise you that I have not performed any theatricals since I was at university."

"Your prowess as an actor we shall give its due regard. However, I do think your voice will do exceedingly well in the role. Certainly, better than Jane's," she added with a slight laugh and toss of her head.

Oh, why does that particular gesture affect me so? Darcy thought to himself, but instead replied, "with this tolerant audience, how could I refuse? Where are we to begin?"

"We had left off in the third act, where they are discussing the play. I do so enjoy the play within a play. You shall be Hamlet, of course, I shall be Ophelia, and Jane shall read the other parts. Yes, that should do nicely. Here, here is the place to begin:

Hamlet/Darcy: My lord, you played once i' the university, you say?

Polonius/Jane: That did I, my lord, and was accounted a good actor.

Hamlet/Darcy: What did you enact?

Polonius/Jane: I did enact Julius Caesar: I was killed i' the Capitol; Brutus killed me.

Hamlet/Darcy: It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there. Be the players ready?

Rosencrantz/Jane: Ay, my lord; they stay upon your patience.

Queen/Jane: Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.

Hamlet/Darcy: No, good mother, here's metal more attractive.

Polonius/Jane: [to the King] O, ho! do you mark that?

Darcy hesitated, seeing the dialogue to come. He looked at Elizabeth, who returned his glance in a manner which he found curiously unsettling. "I really do not care for this part of the play. It lacks for drama. Shall I find one of the wonderful and tortured soliloquies for which this play is known?" He offered as he began to turn the pages of his book.

"No, Mr. Darcy, I wish you to continue. Your reading is quite exceptional and could merit the highest recognition of all theatrical productions. We shall put our poor hands together and applaud your performance. . . . Besides, would it not be most ungentlemanlike for you not to finish what you have begun?" Elizabeth said quite seriously.

His protestations having failed, Darcy could only continue.

Hamlet/Darcy: Lady, shall I lie in your lap?

Ophelia/Elizabeth: No, my lord.

Hamlet/Darcy: I mean, my head upon your lap.

Ophelia/Elizabeth: Ay, my lord.

Hamlet/Darcy: Do you think I meant country matters?

Ophelia/Elizabeth: I think nothing, my lord.

Hamlet/Darcy: That's a fair thought to lie between maid's legs.

Darcy then looked up to see the self-satisfied look on Elizabeth's face and the utter embarrassment on Jane's. But there was more; he could sense that his humiliation was not over. Instead of reciting Ophelia's next lines, Elizabeth said that she wished to read another passage toward the end of the same scene and began turning the pages.

"Here, I have found it. I do hope you do not mind that I shall read it. Hamlet is speaking to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern:"

Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you cannot play upon me.

With that, Elizabeth looked into Darcy's eyes. She could see flashes of anger being held in check, while he could see supreme triumph in hers. Not wishing to continue with her game, Darcy rose from his seat and said, "You have said quite enough, Madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness." He bowed slightly and strode quickly out of the library.

In the main hall, he encountered Bingley and Mr. Hurst, returning from the day's shoot. However, Darcy was in no mood for civility. Bingley called out as Darcy made his exit through the front doorway, "Where are you going, Darcy?"

"I need air. . .I need to be away from this place. . . I feel the need, the need for speed. . .I need your swiftest horse. Which would that be?" Darcy asked with great impatience in his voice.

"I am told that it is a short but powerfully built one called Maverick." Bingley responded and then added, "Why?" He received no answer as Darcy's long and purposeful strides had taken him far from the house in moments. Bingley craned his neck to observe Darcy approaching the stables, he then looked back toward the house and then again to the stables. Grabbing his hat and gloves, Bingley ran toward the stables and was off in pursuit of his friend.

Jane, having not said anything during the scene, now broke her silence. "That was horribly cruel, Lizzy. Do you not feel ashamed of yourself?"

"No. I wished him to know I understood his condescending attempts to ridicule me and that he could no longer do so with impunity. He is a proud, disagreeable man, with deplorable manners," Lizzy responded, while closing her text.

"No, I think you quite wrong. All along I have attempted to give you a valuable insight into his character and you have been most unreceptive. He was brought up with a certain pride in his position. That is understandable given his family's standing and his wealth. You accuse him of having poor manners. I see a man who lacks the talent which some people possess of conversing easily, especially among strangers. How you could not see it is beyond my comprehension. You have now demonstrated the same ill-breeding and small-mindedness of which you have accused him. I am most ashamed of your behavior, Lizzy, and that you included me in this scene." With that remark, Jane too rose from her chair and left the room.

The turn of events and the startling, uncharacteristic reaction from her sister gave pause to Elizabeth. She thought over what had taken place from the Meryton assembly to this very moment. She tried to remember every gesture, every nuance in his voice. At the assembly, he declined formal introduction to her family and pronounced judgment on not only herself but the entire neighborhood. His disdainful opinion was evident in that he danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce and more than one lady was sitting down in want of a partner. He walked about the room with more arrogance and pride than she believed she had ever encountered. No, she had not misjudged him from the start. How could she? She had overhead his conversation with Mr. Bingley. There was nothing amiss here.

When next, at the Lucases, she thought, he again displayed the same unsocial behavior. Did he not keep to his own company or to that of the Bingley party? She had noted Darcy listening intently to her own conversation with Colonel Forster and, when Charlotte provoked her to mention it, he answered quite normally, apparently not sensing the impropriety of his own behavior. There was an incident with Sir William attempting to make partners of herself and Mr. Darcy for a dance. While he expressed his willingness to dance with her, that was likely due only to the fact that Sir William was his host. If there was anything more than required politeness, she could not surmise as she left the room shortly thereafter.

Being in such close company with him during her stay at Netherfield should have afforded her the greatest advantages to taking stock of his character. From the moment of her arrival and their meeting on the grounds, she remembered the look of incredulity on his face. Of course, she may have been slightly disheveled on account of her walk, as Jane had remarked, but he seemed almost amused. Did she not detect a bemused nod to his head as he led her to the house?

During the past week, she could not have ignored being under the constant scrutiny of both Mr. Darcy and Bingley's sisters. Only Bingley appeared at ease with her and completely devoid of ulterior motives. Each evening in the sitting room, Darcy would make little conversation with her, usually to ask about Jane's health, and then he would attempt to ridicule her character or her upbringing to the others present. She had successfully fended off most of his insinuations in a ladylike manner but, on at least two occasions, her remarks could be seen to have angered him although not to the degree she had today.

She knew he was angry because she had seen it in his eyes, but he would surely recover as he had previously and all would be forgot. Strange that such a proud man would willingly subject himself to such abuse and incivility on so many occasions. The certainty of her position began to fade. Would he forget? And, if he did not, why should she care? This new line of thought was quite unsettling to Elizabeth Bennet.

Part 12 References

Part 13

Author's Note: I apologize in advance for the confusion the next installments may cause. Action is taking place concurrently in two different venues depending on the hour. Rather than resort to Olympics-style coverage and chop the scenes up, I will ask your indulgence as the two divergent threads are presented in their entirety. We will come back to 12:00 noon with Bingley in hot pursuit of Darcy in Part 16 (I think), unless someone tells me how to do a picture-in-picture here!!

Day 3, 12:00 p.m.

As Longbourn was an easy distance from Netherfield, the Bingley sisters and Mr. Stuckey arrived there after only a short carriage ride. Sending their cards inside, while inquiring whether the family was in, they awaited an answer. The affirmative response was borne by the housekeeper, who ushered them into the house and announced their entry into the morning room. There, Mrs. Bennet sat, while her three youngest daughters appeared to be engaged in the domestic arts.

Mrs. Hurst provided news of the state of Elizabeth's health and expressed delight that Jane was a perfect angel of mercy, attending to her sister's every need. While this news was indeed welcome, Mrs. Bennet expressed some surprise at seeing Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst given the correspondence of a day ago. However, the concern over possible contagion was put to rest by a reminder that it was contained within the walls of Netherfield, and efforts were under way to eradicate it from the premises.

Formal introductions were made for Mr. Stuckey to Mrs. Bennet and her daughters. His business in Hertfordshire was easily explained by his relationship to Mr. Bingley. As both a friend and solicitor, he was anxious to learn more about the neighborhood surrounding the village of Meryton in the event Mr. Bingley might decide to purchase the Netherfield property outright. Since Bingley's sisters had decided to pay a call on the Bennet family, Stuckey expressed his desire to become acquainted with the family that had produced two of the most accomplished ladies in the county, while he assessed the region's investment potential.

Mrs. Bennet was overjoyed to entertain yet another eligible gentleman in her home, but when he inquired after Mr. Bennet she experienced a most severe disappointment. Mr. Bennet was called to join the party and introduced to Stuckey. Mr. Bennet looked at the short, balding gentlemen, nodded his head and said, "Bingley's solicitor, I see, I see. Yes, he has a sharp and useless look about him."

Mr. Stuckey did not know how to respond to this man. Was this how they were in the country? Very savage behavior. Perhaps, everyone said what was on their mind quite openly and without artifice. He would observe all very closely.

"My daughter Mary tells me that you have some inquiries about the Netherfield property, Mr. Stuckey. We can discuss it in my library, if you will follow me. Perhaps, you could provide me with some advice as well, on how to further bankrupt myself and my family." With that, both gentlemen departed from the room, leaving Mrs. Bennet to entertain the Bingley sisters. Not wishing, however, to suffer in the company of this most ridiculous woman, Mrs. Hurst announced with some surprise that they had forgot an important errand and would return later for Mr. Stuckey.

Mrs. Bennet could see something was amiss with this most peculiar house call. However, she would not squander the present opportunity by worrying over others' motives, when they so clearly did not further her own. Taking Lydia by the arm, she sent her upstairs to change her frock. Returning shortly thereafter, she found her mother alone. "Where are my sisters?" she asked. Her mother responded that they had been sent on an errand to the Lucases.

"And what am I to do? I should have liked to go with them." Lydia whined to her mother.

"You, my pretty girl, will become better acquainted with Mr. Stuckey."

"Oh, no, mama. I much prefer the officers."

"Yes, in my day, I too liked a red coat, and they thought me quite the catch. But as you can see I married your father."

"But Mr. Stuckey is not handsome nor tall."

"No, he is fat and you are fat. It is a fine match."

"He is losing his hair already. Surely he is too old for me."

"Hair? It is much overpraised." Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. This gentleman would appear to have a good income in London. Did you not hear the names of his clientele? Did you not notice the cut of his jacket?" Lydia's only response was to exhale quite loudly whilst rolling her eyes. Her mother continued. "Saville Row. Think of the parties and assemblies you would go to in town. They should put our small village to shame. Oh, my dearest girl, look beyond the red coat, for once."

Resigned to pleasing her mother, at least for this afternoon, she waited. But it was not to be of long duration for Mr. Stuckey soon returned and was surprised to see most of the company had departed. Mrs. Bennet suggested that Lydia show Mr. Stuckey around their property as there was a very pretty wilderness area on the side of the lawn. Having already heard from Mr. Bennet himself that his daughter Lydia was one of the silliest girls in the county, he readily accepted and offered his arm to the youngest Miss Bennet.

The range of subjects for their conversation was limited by both social convention and Lydia's own abilities. She had no interest in either books or music, but she would not take the trouble to feign interest in them as would most well-brought up ladies. Turning the conversation to her own family and local society was, therefore, not difficult. He inquired after all the families of prominence and their connections, the townspeople, the balls and assemblies and, finally, her sister.

"I have yet to become acquainted with your sister, Miss Elizabeth, but I have been told that she is a local beauty and quite accomplished."

"She plays and sings--a little. Better than my sister Mary, but that is not high praise."

"If she is as charming as yourself, then I can imagine she has many admirers and is in much demand at balls and assemblies."

"I do love to dance and am never without partners, although some times at dances there are far too few gentlemen for the number of ladies present. But since Colonel Forster's regiment has encamped here, the officers have generally been invited and there are partners for all who wish it."

So, the officers have provided a much-needed social release for the neighborhood, Stuckey thought. Continuing this line of inquiry, he next asked, "Then, you see the officers quite frequently?"

"Oh, yes, if they are not otherwise engaged in military exercises, then we see them on a daily basis. They frequently call at Longbourn and my sisters and myself walk into Meryton to meet with them."

"Your mother permits such unchaperoned activities?"

"Permits? Mr. Stuckey, our mother encourages it!"

"I see." Yes, now I am beginning to fully understand where such improper behavior had its roots. "Does your sister have any particular favorites from among the officers?"

"Lizzy? No, I think not. She is quite friendly with all of them."

"And they with her?"

"Yes, why should they not?"

"Because men and women cannot be friends."

"Why not? We have such jolly times when the officers come over to Longbourn."

"I do not know how to phrase this so that you will not take offense, but men and women cannot be friends because there are certain carnal desires that make it impossible."

"That is not true," Lydia countered. "I have a number of gentlemen friends and they are like brothers to me."

"You only think you do."

"Mr. Stuckey, what are you saying?"

"What I am saying is that they want to be more than brothers to you."

"No, they do not."

"Yes, they do."

"How do you know?"

"It is very simple because no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive. He always wants more."

"Then, you are saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive?"

Having never given this situation much thought before, it took Stuckey a moment before he could reply. "No, most men would want to bed them as well, sorry."

The two continued to walk along the garden path for some time, while Stuckey artfully extracted the names of regimental officers known to favor Elizabeth or be conspicuously in her company. Lydia was much intrigued by this man, who spoke to her as a grown woman or as she thought one would speak to a grown woman. On hearing the Bingley carriage approaching the house, Stuckey and Lydia returned as well.

After commenting on the beauty of the estate and expressing his gratitude for their hospitality, Stuckey stepped into the carriage and it drove away. After a short distance he saw the two other daughters who had mysteriously disappeared earlier walking through a hedgerow. He turned his head over his right shoulder to take a final look at Longbourn and saw Mrs. Bennet standing at the edge of the drive, waving her handkerchief good-bye.

Yes, Mrs. Bennet, having observed Lydia's and Mr. Stuckey's promenade through the window, was well-pleased with her efforts that day.

Part 13 References

Part 14

Author's Note: This is a fictional account. Any resemblance to real persons or events in the past or present is purely coincidental.

Day 3, 3:00 p.m.

Hill had been debating with herself for hours ever since Elsie, the dairy maid who worked for Farmer Borden, one of Mr. Bennet's tenants, had stopped by this morning with fresh butter and cream. The news Elsie had told her was most disturbing. She, however, did not want to be the one to relate it to her mistress. One part of her thought that she should make her information known, as a loyal servant to the Bennet family for whom she had worked for over ten years. Another part of her thought that the mistress was a horrible woman of ill-breeding, who never deigned to call her as she should, as Mrs. Hill, a title more appropriate to the housekeeper at an estate. Telling her this news might give her some form of satisfaction as it was bound to cause her mistress great distress.

As she pondered what her actions would be, she heard that familiar call of her surname, which meant her presence was required by the mistress for some thing some where. While coming to no firm conclusions, Hill scurried to her mistress' sitting room, where Mrs. Bennet sat at her escritoire with several letters that required posting and the menu for the next day, which she would give to Cook at the earliest.

Guilt overcame Hill as she blurted out, "Mum, there is terrible news."

Looking up from her papers, Mrs. Bennet turned toward Hill and saw a much agitated countenance. She beckoned Hill over and attempted to reassure her that, whatever the news, she must tell her without delay. But that was not to be, for Hill began sobbing and Mrs. Bennet knew not what to do. One was not generally in a position of having to comfort a servant. If a servant had personal problems, they should remain private and not become a concern for the family. But the scene before her eyes was more than she could ignore. Showing Hill over to the settee near the fireplace, she sat her down and took a seat next to her. Mrs. Bennet then put her arm around Hill and attempted to calm her down. The sobbing lessened after a short while and Mrs. Bennet thought to herself that now she would finally get to the heart of the matter.

After much wringing of the hands, Hill finally related the news she had heard that morning. Mrs. Bennet's reaction was much as Hill expected, for her mistress looked as though she had been struck by a lightening bolt and was jolted out of her seat. First she clutched at her heart and made as if to swoon. She then clutched at her head, with eyes wide, and ran out the room, muttering to herself, "We are ruined."

Mrs. Bennet ran down the main staircase to the library to find her husband. Without knocking as a means of announcing herself, she threw open the door and breathlessly cried out, "We are ruined, Mr. Bennet, we are ruined. What shall become of us?"

While Mr. Bennet did not like being disturbed for trifling matters and purposely kept to himself for much of the day, he felt he must respond to the spectacle he saw before him. "Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Bennet, for you are disturbing my business at present?"

Mrs. Bennet held tightly on to her handkerchief and began sobbing much in the same manner as Hill had just moments before. Through the great tears that flowed down her cheeks, Mrs. Bennet managed to tell the odious news to her husband.

"My dear, you are mistaken. No one could possibly believe such a thing of our Lizzy. I could better accept such a rumor--and that is what it is--had the subject been Kitty or, better yet, Lydia for they are two of the silliest girls in the county. But Lizzy. . . I would pay it no heed." With that Mr. Bennet turned and began to make his way back to his desk.

"Mr. Bennet, may I remind you that truth has no bearing on our situation. No one shall receive us. We shall be forced to leave Longbourn. Where shall we go? What shall we live on? With this unfairly imposed entailment business, you cannot sell Longbourn. We shall have nothing!"

Stopping and turning back to face Mrs. Bennet, he inquired, "and how can that be so?"

"Husband, do you recall the rumor of two years ago concerning Farmer Clinton and the sheep. I had it on good authority, as I remember, from Madame de Bouffant, at the milliner's, who heard it from Mr. Taper at the chandler's, who overheard it from Mr. Cooper, the carpenter, who had done some barrel repairs at Farmer Clinton's. . . "

"Enough already. Is there some point you wish to make?" Mr. Bennet said interrupting the chronology of Farmer Clinton's undoing.

"Yes, of course, the rumor was not true, as we know, but that mattered not. With rumor, fair is foul and foul is fair. Farmer Clinton quit his lease and fled the county in disgrace."

"And this you believe is what must become of us?"

"Certainly. What good, respectable family will want to associate with us and connect with our girls? They are ruined," Mrs. Bennet said while holding her head and shaking it. "This could not have come at a less propitious time."

"Do I understand you correctly, Mrs. Bennet, that you believe there is an acceptable time for such rumors to be spread?"

"Yes, of course, had the girls been married and comfortably settled, then it would not signify."

"May I remind you that, had your daughters been 'married and comfortably settled,' there could be no such rumor, " Mr. Bennet replied rolling his eyes back in his head.

"Mr. Bennet, why must you vex me? You appear to get great pleasure from vexing me. This is a serious matter. What of the fortunes of Jane and Lizzy? I have heard that it is more likely to be killed by a revolutionary on the Continent than it is for a girl to get married over the age of five and twenty."

"My dear, while I do not believe there is much truth to that statement either, I do have complete confidence in your ability to right matters. Apart from walking up and down the streets of Meryton and assuring all I meet that it is but a rumor, what would you have me do? Would you have me challenge someone . . . to a duel, perhaps? Although I know not who it would be. . . Would Elsie, the dairy maid, be to your liking?"

For once, Mrs. Bennet had no reply--as she could think of nothing that Mr. Bennet could do. Engaging in any type of activity with the potential for widowhood and loss of home and hearth would definitely not be acceptable. She rose from her chair and quickly left the room in a huff.

Entering the hallway, Mrs. Bennet was struck by a notion. If she could not dispel the rumor, then she must do two things. First, she would have to make her daughters at Netherfield aware of the rumor and, second, she would concentrate her efforts on hastening the nuptials of her daughters.

With this resolve, she called for Lydia, Kitty and Mary and took them into the kitchen, where she gave them very specific instructions as they knew little of what one did in a kitchen. Mrs. Bennet returned to her sitting room and wrote a note to Jane, also with detailed instructions on what to do and what to say. Mrs. Bennet never left anything to Chance.

Having completed the note, she began making her way to the kitchen where the three girls were engaged in stirring the contents of a large cauldron suspended over the red-hot embers burning in the hearth. Mary had taken her mother's instructions most seriously and was directing the addition of each and every ingredient by her sisters who capered around the kitchen like the silly girls she had often thought they were. "Lydia, we have yet to add the eye of newt and toe of frog. Kitty, fetch the wool of bat and tongue of dog. I have put in the adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, lizard's leg and howlet's wing."

With an air of childlike whining, Lydia remarked, "Why must we do this? It is most certainly double, double toil and trouble. Kitty and I wanted to go to Meryton to see the officers."

"I believe we are nearly done, Lydia," Mary answered, "but you should always remember that there is no place like home."

Lydia and Kitty exchanged incredulous glances while Lydia retorted, "Yes and a watched pot never boils."

"No, too many cooks spoil the broth. That is better," Kitty added and the two began laughing in a most unladylike manner at their sister's expense.

At that, Mrs. Bennet approached the bubbling cauldron. Out of her pocket, she extracted a herb-like mixture and sprinkled it over the brew. "Now, girls, we are ready to measure out portions."

She had placed four small bottles on the large oaken table in the center of the room. Using a large ladle and a siphon, she poured the strained contents of the cauldron into the three small bottles. Kitty placed stoppers in the necks of the bottles, while Mary affixed small labels, showing the number nine, on each and Lydia placed them in a charming basket festooned with a colorful cloth and ribbons.

"That should do. Yes, that should do, nicely," Mrs. Bennet said while surveying the package.

As the final touch, she placed her sealed instructions to Jane in the basket and called for Hill to have this delivered to Netherfield immediately.

Part 14 References

Part 15

Day 3, 6:00 p.m.

Longbourn's ostler was given instructions from Mrs. Hill to carry the basket to Netherfield as quickly as possible. Saddling up one of the horses in the stable, he made off for Netherfield and waited at the entrance for Miss Jane, into whose hands he was to place the basket. He did not mind having to wait for the lady, since seeing the most beautiful of the Bennet girls could never be construed as a form of penance.

After a short while, Jane made her way to the door and, seeing one of the stable hands from Longbourn there, she exclaimed with surprise, "Why Freddie, whatever brings you here? I had not sent word that we were to depart today and, moreover, I see you have not brought the carriage."

"No, miss, I have brought this basket from your mother. There is a note for you to read first and then you are to tell me if you understand and I shall return forthwith to Longbourn." There, I have said all I was told to and perfectly, Freddie proudly thought to himself, and they always think that all I ever do is stand around and dream.

Jane reached into the basket and retrieved the note. Breaking the seal, she quickly read it. Freddie noticed that her face paled immediately as she turned away from him. After several minutes, Jane regained her composure and turned in his direction, but she was still an ashen picture of sorrow.

"Please tell my mother that I understand." She relieved him of the basket and turned and went into the house.

Still clutching the note in her hand and the basket hanging from her arm, Jane went immediately to her sister's room. She found Elizabeth putting away a novel. Not wishing to appear as anxious as she felt, she asked what the novel was about.

Elizabeth began to describe a story about two ill-fated lovers, each of whom was engaged to be married to another. As their love affair had begun on a sailing vessel and had been rather sudden, they agreed to wait a half year before actually marrying. The gentleman, Count Niccol� Ferrante, having never worked a day in his life, also knew that he would need to make a living to support his love, an English woman, since she had no fortune as well. They agreed to meet at the top of the tallest building in Pisa on the fourteenth of February of the following year.

On the aforesaid day, the woman hurried to the tower to meet her lover. Unfortunately, she had been looking up at the heavens but not to her own sides, as she was struck down by cart filled with baby chicks. She was injured greatly by that cart and lay in bed for several months with an ailment that prevented her being able to walk.

At this point, Jane started to cry. "This is the saddest story I have ever heard. How does it end? It must end happily! It must!!"

Elizabeth continued although she knew what Jane felt, having only recovered from the same state but a half hour ago. The count had been at the top of the tower building waiting for his love for hours. He refused to depart even though the sky erupted sending down a drenching rainstorm. He stood at the top of the tower until midnight, when he finally convinced himself she was not coming. With that he departed and sought solace in drink that night and every night for many months. Because of her infirmity and her pride, the lady would not allow anyone to impart word of her condition to the count. She had vowed that she would go to him only when she could walk--no run to him--on her own two feet.

"Oh, I fear this is too much!" Jane gasped through her tears, her chest heaving as she attempted to regain her composure.

"You do not wish to hear how it concludes?" Elizabeth looked at her slightly askance.

Not being able to speak, Jane silently nodded while holding a handkerchief to her eyes and motioning for her to continue.

This English patient defied conventional wisdom and what most surgeons thought possible at the time. With the assistance of her former fianc�, who still loved her greatly, despite knowing that she gave her love to another, she sought out the best medical minds. After a series of surgeries was performed, she was able to go out despite her reliance on a chair. At one such outing, she encountered her lover also with his former fianc�e. He stopped in front of her and said, "hello." She could only reply with the same.

"That is it? That is all she said?" Jane's eyes opened wide in disbelief. "After all that time and her not meeting him at the appointed time and place, that is all she can say?"

Elizabeth shook her head and Jane clasped her hand across her mouth to stifle the inevitable sobs. Waiting until Jane returned from the bureau to retrieve a new handkerchief, Elizabeth continued her story: As it was Christmas Eve, the count had a parcel to deliver to the lady. It was a lace shawl that his grandmama had wanted her to have after she had died. The count learned where she was residing and knocked on the door. The maid showed him in and he saw the lady sitting on a sofa with a blanket covering her legs which were elevated on the cushions. After a few pleasantries, the count recalled why he had come and gave her the parcel. Knowing what must have transpired for this lovely shawl to be given to her, she felt a great sadness come over her.

"And now the grandmama dies? His sweet, white-haired grandmama? I cannot bear this...go on, Lizzy, go on..."

Putting the shawl across her shoulders, she looked a vision. The count was startled to see her looking this way, as he had painted a portrait of her wearing the shawl. He told her about the painting and that he considered it his finest but that he could not sell it. The dealer who handled his work told him a poor, crippled woman had admired that painting greatly. Since she could not pay, he authorized it be given to her at no charge. As soon as he said that, he began pacing the floor, looking all over the room. Seeing a closed door that presumably led to her private chambers, he held his breath as he opened it and looked inside. There, on the wall, was his painting.

The world stood still for him for several moments. Then he rushed back into the sitting room and asked why it had to happen to her, why it could not have been he? With her secret now revealed, she felt a great burden had been lifted. He held her in his arms and kissed her passionately. She finally told him that if he could paint, then she could walk.

"That is the end, Jane. Did you like it?"

"I believe that is the saddest, but most romantic story I have ever heard, as I have used four handkerchiefs!"

"Yes, indeed, it must be both. I have here another called Madame X, but I do not think I can read another like that at present. The emotional upheaval is too great. So, tell me of your afternoon and dinner. I believe both of us would benefit from some diverting stories."

"You cannot know how I wish I had a diverting story to tell you, Lizzy, but I fear I do not. If this day could be any worse, I do not know how that would be possible. I have had some disturbing news from Mama that was brought by Freddie, along with this basket."

"What is the disturbing news? Has someone died?"

"No, it would appear that a rumor reached Longbourn today that...I know no other way to put it, Lizzy, that...you are no longer a woman of virtue."

The alarming nature of this communiqu� caused Lizzy to fall backwards unto her pillow. "I am shocked. Shocked and grieved, Jane. It is so outrageous a falsehood that I should be more diverted by its humor than what I am feeling at present."

"There is some misunderstanding, of this it is quite apparent. Perhaps, no one will pay it any heed and all will be well very soon."

"Oh, Jane, you are such a dear to believe in the goodness of people above everything. No, I believe our entire family shall suffer from the malicious slander that has been circulated. Does our mother have any idea as to who would spread such a false story about me?"

"She did not go into detail about the rumor's origin, only that Hill had it from Elsie the dairy maid...."

"If a dairy maid is the vehicle for dissemination, then nearly all houses in the surrounding area should know of my fallen status within a day or less. What are we to do? We must depart as soon as possible. Is that what Mama has advised?"

"Yes, that is very nearly what she has advised us to do. But you must be more fully recovered than you are at present, so she has sent a potion that she obtained from Mr. Jones. The instructions are for you to drink it and you shall be well enough for us to leave by early tomorrow morning."

Elizabeth turned to inspect the contents of the gaily decorated basket. She then said, "There are four bottles in the basket? Am I drink all of them?"

"No, the other three are for the unmarried gentlemen in the house, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Stuckey."

"Why just the unmarried gentlemen?" Elizabeth queried.

"She explained that married gentlemen, such as Mr. Hurst, are protected from the influenza by the great amounts of wine they consume." In so responding, Jane's expression and shrugged shoulders indicated that they should take their mother's explanation as provided and not question her vast knowledge on the subject of marriage.

"And for Mr. Bingley's sisters? Are they not to have the benefit of this potion?"

"Mama has written that there was but a limited supply of this potion and that it would be far better if all the men were protected since Netherfield has an insufficient staff to properly attend a house full of ailing men."

"Yes, I can see the wisdom in that. That bottle has a number nine on it? Do you know why?"

"Mama said that Mr. Jones' potions are numbered to correspond to the illness. Influenza begins with an 'I.' 'I' is the ninth letter of the alphabet."

"That is certainly a singular method. Give me a glass, Jane, I want to be done with this as soon as possible."

Part 15 References

Part 16

Author's Note: Now we go back in time. I never told you what happened to Darcy or where he went, so here it is.

Day 3, 12:00 p.m.

Darcy rode swiftly across the rolling meadow lands of the Netherfield property, unaware that Bingley was hard at his heels. He eased up on his horse which was built for speed but not for distance. This allowed Bingley to shorten the distance between the two and, when he was within 50 yards, called out in an attempt to stop his friend's reckless ride. Darcy turned at the sound of a horse's hooves growing nearer. He saw Bingley calling out and, while not wanting to stop, felt that he must, if only to rid himself of unwanted company. He pulled slowly but forcefully on the reins and his horse came to a stop.

Pulling up alongside, Bingley had barely caught his breath when Darcy began, "What are you doing following me?"

"I thought I must. How else could I respond? I could see the distress on your face and I believed you needed assistance."

"I did not ask for your assistance, did I?"

"Darcy, have not our years of friendship meant anything? I am your friend and friends do not need to ask," Bingley replied. Still being unaware of the circumstances precipitating this mad ride, he was compelled to proceed. "Tell me what happened at Netherfield. Did you receive bad news?"

Yes, bad news, indeed, and she could not have said it any plainer. Despite all the thoughts racing through his head at the moment, Darcy could not give voice to any that would reveal his vulnerabilities and profound hurt. Instead, he waved Bingley off saying with the utmost control in his voice, "Go back to your fine country home and your precious country guests, for they are not as they would appear. Go back, now."

So this had something to do with the Bennet girls! Bingley attempted to question him further but was unsuccessful. Darcy assured him that he would be fine, but that he needed to be alone. He would return later to Netherfield but, if he were not at dinner, Bingley should make his apologies to his sisters on his behalf. With that, he set his heels into the side of his horse and left Bingley in a cloud of dust.

Over the next hill, Darcy came upon a well-traveled road. Where it led was not a concern of his at this time. He only wanted to be far away from her. Soon he came upon an inn, which also served as a post lodging, and was told that he was on the London road. Tired and thirsty from his hard riding, Darcy paid the landlord for use of a small room in the rear of the building, a place where he could be alone, undisturbed by other patrons. With a large tankard of ale and a plate of bread, sausage and cheese, Darcy began the difficult assessment of where he stood and what his options might be.

He realized that he had never gone to such lengths to engage anyone's attentions as he had for Elizabeth Bennet. His interest in her may have begun as mere curiosity and intrigue but had now evolved into a passionate desire for her company. Or was it love? How could he be sure? In a world that was constantly changing, how could he be sure? Whenever he was away from her, he wanted to die because he knew he wanted to stay with her. Maybe she was trying to use him? Now, that had not occurred to him previously. Had she behaved as one desirous of his wealth and position? No, it was quite the opposite. He had always been more affected than she. When he was away from her, his alibi was telling people he did not care for her. 'Tis a pity he could not seem to find someone who was as pretty and lovely as she. How could he be sure? He really really really wanted to know.

Darcy's thoughts focused on who could help him sort this out or help him get over her if need be. Only one person came to mind, C.K. Dexter-Haven. Dexter and he had maintained the closest of all friendships since Eton. He was the only person he had ever confided in and had been a brick when he lost his mother. Dexter was likely in London at present, but Darcy did not wish to be in London nor did he want to go to Pemberley or see his sister. If he met Dexter in London, they could travel to Portsmouth, obtain a ticket to Ryde on the Isle of Wight and then go the short distance to Newport, where Dexter had a summer home.

Calling for the landlord, he inquired when the next coach to London would arrive. A mail coach was expected late that night which would get him to London by early morning, but the landlord could not guarantee him passage. Remembering he had told Bingley that he would return to Netherfield, Darcy decided instead to write to Dexter straight away, have it delivered by express and then take an immediate, but orderly, leave from Hertfordshire, which was more in keeping with his position. He obtained writing paper and a pen from the landlord and called for more ale to be brought.

The man could see that his patron was not only a high-born gentleman, but that he was in great turmoil. Men such as that did not take refuge in public houses in the middle of the day. Thinking that a little conversation might be welcomed, he cautiously approached Darcy. The rage that he had noted on Darcy's entrance to his establishment had dissipated. Replacing it, however, was a sadness and despondency. He asked polite questions and received polite answers from Darcy, whose tongue had been loosened by the drink. Then, finally, he heard Darcy mumble to himself, "I got a good reason for taking the easy way out."

"What do you mean easy way out? Out of what?" the landlord asked.

"I tried to please her," Darcy continued.

"Who? Who did you try to please?"

"It took me so long to find out, but I found out." Darcy added.

"What did you find out?" The landlord was now on the edge of his seat for he too was longing to find out what the man meant. Darcy provided a little detail and, at last, the landlord understood the source of Darcy's turmoil.

"Sounds to me like she was a big teaser. She took ya 'alf the way there now, right?" Darcy nodded in agreement. "We calls 'em day trippers round 'ere. They gives ya a one-way ticket, if ya knows what I mean." Again, Darcy nodded for indeed he understood. "Ya better off without 'er and good ya found out now--better than later as I always says."

Seeing that Darcy's tankard was empty, the landlord went for another and to see what he could arrange to divert his troubled patron. Removing his jacket and waistcoat, Darcy set about to write his letter to Dexter:

C.K.,
I shall be in London the day after next, or as soon as I can excuse myself gracefully from Bingley's company here in Hertfordshire. Your advice and counsel are needed most urgently by me, for I have met someone. As you can probably guess, it is a woman, who is unlike any I have ever known. But she does not return my regard and can be at times openly hostile toward me.
My attraction to her defies logic and my good judgment, I might add, and I have only known her for less than one month. But there is something in the way she moves. It attracts me like no other lover. Something in the way she woos me. I don't want to leave her now. You know I believe and how. If you were here, now, you would ask me, 'will my love grow?' I don't know and this is what is destroying me. I would give you the particulars now, but I am not in a clear state of mind at present.
If you only knew half of what I am thinking! As you can see there is some urgency here. I will send a note to you and only you on my arrival in town. I do not wish to be among society and had thought your house in Newport may serve my purpose. Please inform no one of my impending return.
When I think of yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now, I need a place to hide away. This trip has been an abomination. Should I never set foot in Hertfordshire again, it will be too soon.
Yours &,
Fitz

He splashed some water on his face and took the sealed letter to the landlord. After paying for an express rider to London, Darcy returned to the back room with another tankard. Although he had accomplished what he had set out to do, that is, determine his course of action, he found that he did not wish to leave as yet.

Darcy sat and stared into the great fire blazing in the hearth for quite some time, when he realized that he was not alone again. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I work 'ere after dinner for when the locals come in."

"Is it that late? What time is it?"

"After six. You been 'ere long?"

"It would appear I have been here all afternoon. Is there something...."

"Oh, Sam said I was t' see if ya needed anythin'." Seeing the quizzical look on Darcy's face, she added, "Sam's the landlord 'ere and 'e said I was t' give ya whatever ya needed."

Darcy's shoulders dropped as he covered his face with his hands. He thought about what he needed but she was not there. "Well, let me tell you about the way she looked, the way she acted, the color of her hair, her voice was soft and cool, her eyes were clear and bright."

"Go on, tell me all about it. I can listen real good," she said as she sat down at Darcy's feet in front of the fire.

"It hurts to be in love, when the only one you love turns out to be someone who's not in love with you. It hurts to love her so, when deep down inside you know, she will never want you...no matter what you do."

Laying her hands on Darcy's leg, she began to stroke him gently. "And so you cry a little bit and you die a little bit, right?"

Darcy eased himself off the seat and slipped onto the floor, continuing to tell of his woes, "How long can I exist wanting lips I've never kissed?"

"Never?" she asked.

"No, never," was Darcy's reply.

"Hmm, go on, tell me more...." she said as she began to lightly trace the indentations of his ear.

As Darcy left the nautically inspired Two Sheets to the Wind Inn several hours later for his ride back to Netherfield, he turned to the girl and introduced himself, wherein she told him her own name. She had been a good listener.

Darcy arrived back at Netherfield at an hour when Bingley and his guests should have been retiring for the evening. To ensure that he would not meet with anyone and then be obligated to explain his day, he went quickly up to his rooms. While his head felt clear after the brisk ride, he desperately needed and wanted a hot bath. He knew this would disrupt the household but disrupt it he must. The unscheduled activity came to Bingley's notice and he stopped by Darcy's room. Understanding that now would not be the time to question Darcy, he merely pointed out the small bottle on the nightstand and told Darcy to drink it as he had done to prevent against the influenza. With a nod of his head, Bingley left him to soak in his bath.

Following the bath, Darcy recalled a book that he had wanted to begin reading that night, but that it was still on the shelf in the library. Rather than try to explain to a servant which book he wanted--that is, if the servant could read--he pulled on a dressing gown and began to leave his room when he saw the potion. The course of true love never did run smooth, he thought, as he made his way down the great staircase. He would drink that later, he thought.

Part 16 References

Continued in Section III

Tapestry References

While knowledge of the following references to movies, songs and Shakespearean plays should not be necessary (hopefully) to full enjoyment of the story, I have attempted to document those as well as other inspirations (sometimes subtle; sometimes not so subtle) for my parody.