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Prologue

Posted on 2014-12-15

June 1812 - Longbourn

Elizabeth Bennett almost felt inclined to burst into a run to express the pleasure the letter from her Aunt Gardiner was providing. They were going to tour The Lakes after all! Her uncle's business problem has been resolved satisfactorily and they were free to devote six weeks to the tour. Her aunt had even enclosed a copy of William Wordsworth's Guide to The Lakes which her uncle had recently acquired. Their tour could not fail to be pleasant and entertaining given the company and the places they would visit.

Reaching the top of Oakham Mount, Elizabeth took off her bonnet, loosen her pelisse, stretched her arms upward and gradually letting them fall back down. Sitting on the log that was her usual resting spot, she extracted from her pocket the apple grabbed on the way out the door and gazed out over the distant buildings of Longbourn and Netherfield. Slowly munching the apple, savouring its tart taste, she gradually drifted her thoughts to those which had predominated for the last three months, or since the Day - the day she rejected Mr. Darcy's proposal of marriage.

Could a proposal of marriage been more disastrously given or received? Fitzwilliam Darcy, despite expressing an ardent love for her, had managed to insult her, her family's behaviour, her poor connections - her uncles in trade obviously figured prominently in his thoughts - and finally the inferiority of her social status compared to his own. A degradation he had called it. Granted he stated that he was prepared to overlook such impediments but, under the circumstances, she had not been prepared to ignore the insults. When she considered the arrogance of his behaviour from the very beginning of their acquaintance in Meryton and culminating in the absolute assurance he displayed that his offer of marriage would be accepted, she could not regret her rejection of it.

Nonetheless, her mode of rejection now left her embarrassed and mortified. She had accused him of maliciously separating her beloved sister, Jane, from Mr. Bingley and then accused him of dishonourable behaviour by depriving Mr. Wickham of a valuable living. Her dislike of Mr. Darcy, created in their very first meeting, had lead her to place full confidence in MR. Wickham's worthiness based on his amiable and pleasing character. The letter, that Mr. Darcy handed her the day following his proposal, exonerated Mr. Darcy completely in his dealings with Mr. Wickham and showed her confidence and judgement to have been sadly misplaced. Wickham had, in fact, been compensated by £3,000 in lieu of the living, despite which he subsequently petitioned again for it. When such petitions were denied, his subsequent actions last summer were deplorable. His attempt to convince Georgiana Darcy to elope would both hurt Mr. Darcy by ruining his sister and given him access to her £30,000 dowry. Tragedy was avoided only by the unexpected appearance of her brother the day before the elopement was to take place. Georgiana was loath to disappoint him and revealed Wickham's plan. Wickham, of course, disappeared, only resurfacing when he joined the militia regiment in winter quarters in Meryton.

When Elizabeth considered her early relationship with Wickham, she could rejoice for once in the paucity of her dowry. If she had had a £10,000 dowry like Mary King, she was sure that Wickham would have courted her quite assiduously. His amiability was such that she might well have developed an attachment to him. Mary King had an uncle who apparently looked into Mr. Wickham's situation. Perhaps he had heard some rumours of debts owed to local merchants or perhaps he was simply concerned about Wickham's limited income and prospects. Whatever the case, he had quickly removed Miss King and prevented the establishment of any attachment. Would her father have bestirred himself enough to do likewise? Elizabeth would like to think so but was far from confident of such a result.

Elizabeth rose to her feet, tossed the apple core away and with a rather sharp laugh, she spoke aloud the thought she could never express in her home. "Perhaps I would be as fortunate as Mary King and be rescued by my uncle. I count his help more likely than that of my father although I could wish otherwise." Looking out over Longbourn she could now see people moving around the house. It was time to return. Breakfast was being made ready and her family would begin to trickle down to eat. Swinging her bonnet in her left hand she began the descent of Oakham Mount.

Her steps slowed as her thoughts drifted once again to Jane. Darcy's letter had also attempted to explain and justify his actions in advising his friend, Charles Bingley, against offering for her sister. Darcy had concluded, after observing Jane's behaviour with Bingley, that her countenance did not showed a marked affection for him. Darcy believed that Jane would accept an offer of marriage because her mother would require her to do so. While questions about the propriety of certain members of the Bennett and the poor connections were raised by Darcy and by Bingley's sisters, it was Darcy's belief that Jane's heart had not been touched which convinced Bingley to break off his attentions.

Elizabeth had only gradually reconciled her knowledge of the depth of Jane's attachment with a recognition that Jane's determination to exhibit a serene countenance and to guard her heart could easily be interpreted as a lack of affection by someone not of her intimate acquaintance. As time had passed, she also began to reconsider her perception of Bingley's role. At first, she had absolved him of all blame. His very amiability was one of his most attractive features. Unfortunately, it also seemed to mask, a lack of resolve. His friend had made an offer of marriage to her, despite all the perceived impediments. Of course, Darcy also thought her to be expecting his offer. Elizabeth snorted. That was certainly proof that Darcy's ability to read a female countenance and heart was sadly deficient. Nevertheless, if she was prepared to pardon Bingley for his lack of resolve - and she was - then she also had to absolve Darcy of being malicious. He had made a mistake and one many would have made.

She knew with some certainty that she was unlikely to encounter Darcy again and he assuredly would not be renewing his offers to her. No honourable man would put himself in the position of being rejected again. She knew not what to do for Jane; there was, in fact, nothing she could do and it would be best to put the matter aside for now. There was a trip to The Lakes to enjoy. With a lighter heart, she put on her bonnet and prepared to rejoin her family.

Fitzwilliam Darcy sat alone in his study in his London home. He believed himself to have regained his equanimity, or at least a semblance of it, after the tumult of those weeks following his return to London from Kent. It had taken more than a few sharp words from his cousin Richard Fitzwilliam to remove him from seclusion and despondency. Georgiana's distress at his behaviour forced him out of his room and to assume a demeanour of apparent normalcy.

The need to travel to Pemberley to oversee the spring planting, had required the engagement of his mind with thoughts that did not centre on Elizabeth Bennett. In fact, he rode the entire distance from London to Pemberley, eschewing his carriage for the physical fatigue of the horseback ride. Exhausted at the end of each day, he literally collapsed into his bed. Dreams still haunted his sleep but dreams he thought he could deal with.

Once at Pemberley, he allowed himself as little time as possible for errant thoughts. The planting, visiting the tenant farms, answering business correspondence and meetings with his household and estate staff were such as to consume his waking hours. Any free time was spent riding. He managed to pass a fortnight in such fashion until it became obvious that his presence was beginning to interfere with the daily operations of Pemberley. He returned to town but, this time, by carriage.

As May turned into June, his life seemed to settle into a routine that kept the worst of his thoughts in abeyance. He visited his club, his relatives imposed on him to attend dinners, he forced himself to attend the theatre with friends several times and, in company with Georgiana, to attend several concerts. Georgiana played the pianoforte for him in the evenings when he was home but it was a bittersweet time since his thoughts would drift to memories of Elizabeth playing the pianoforte at Rosings, seeing her countenance and impertinent smile. All too often he could see her face would turn cold with anger as she spoke.

"You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.

You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.

From the very beginning - from the very first moment, I may almost say - of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish distain for the feelings of others, were such as to form that groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry."

Several times Georgiana had noticed his discomposure. Her efforts to engage him in conversation designed to probe its cause had so far proven unsuccessful. It is rare for a man of seven and twenty to talk about deeply distressing and personal matters with a sister more than twelve years his junior. Darcy was not such a man. He knew his protestations that he was fine and only worried about normal business problems were not convincing, but he could not think of any other possible response. The truth was not something he could lay before a sister. He could only hope that he would eventually be able to conquer his obsession with Elizabeth Bennett although he also knew it would take time - a lot of time, if the past months were any indication.

Richard Fitzwilliam had sent a note earlier in the day to invite himself to dinner and some brandy and talk afterwards.This was rather unusual since Richard was generally very casual about his comings and goings. He obviously had some specific purpose in mind and wanted to ensure that Darcy would be home for the evening. Darcy's immediate concern was that Richard would have to assume active duties on the continent - perhaps Spain. He would find out soon enough. Fortunately, he appeared to have sufficient brandy for an lengthy evening with Richard.

Early July 1812 - Darcy House, London

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was the second son of the Earl of Matlock. Since his elder brother and wife had two very healthy sons, the likelihood of his assuming the title was scant. This did not trouble Fitzwilliam unduly since he had a good familial relationship with his elder brother. Nevertheless, he looked on Darcy more as a brother than cousin and was possibly closer to him than his own brother. Fitzwilliam's income and prospects were such as to provide him with a comfortable life but insufficient to afford a wife. He was not a handsome man but had quickly learned to be amiable and pleasing in most company. Despite his amiability, he was a professional soldier with a proven history in battle. His amiability masked a strong intelligence combined with a prudent leadership. He bought a Lieutenant's commission and, only when he felt ready, did he allow his father to purchase a Captain's commission. Subsequent promotions to Major and then Colonel were won on the field of battle. He was not a 'hell-for-leather' leader. Plans and actions were thought about and preparations were usually extensive before troops were led to battle; but lead them he did, enduring the same risks as his men. This was the man who sat down with Georgiana and Darcy.

Dinner was quietly pleasant. Fitzwilliam was his usual amiable self with his ready fund of stories, gossip and teasings. Both Georgiana and Darcy were quiet but were engaged in the conversation and only someone truly familiar with Darcy would have noticed his extra effort to appear engaged in the conversation. Under Fitzwilliam's gentle teasing, Georgiana's animation gradually increased and her low laughter became more frequent as the meal progressed. At last, Fitzwilliam pushed himself away from the table and stood.

"My compliments to Cook, Darcy. She has created a superb meal once again. After consuming barrack food all week, it's a delight to eat something that doesn't insult the stomach." Looking at Georgiana, he asked. "Georgiana, could you indulge us with some music?

"Of course, Richard. Do you wish for anything in particular?" Georgiana asked as she led the way to the music room.

Richard looked at her and said "Yes, I think I do. Darcy, could we have a glass of port?"

As Darcy filled two glasses from the sideboard, Fitzwilliam moved across the room to the pianoforte and looked through the sheet music placed beside the instrument. He selected a couple of pieces and quietly asked Georgiana if she knew them. After her assent, he asked her to play them interspersed with other quiet pieces.

Georgiana gave him a rather quizzical look and asked "Certainly, but why?"

"I will tell you tomorrow, if I can."

Fitzwilliam moved away from the instrument and settled into the comfortable armchair behind Georgiana forcing Darcy to sit on the settee where Fitzwilliam could observe him somewhat unobtrusively. Both men sipped their port and listened as Georgiana began to play. As the music flowed from Georgiana's fingers, Fitzwilliam could see Darcy relax and, when those pieces he had requested were played, saw Darcy's face gradually become more introspective. Georgiana played for an hour and only stopped when Fitzwilliam stood and walked over to the pianoforte.

"Thank you Georgiana. That was delightful as always. As our Aunt Catherine would say, you have become a true proficient. ...... now Darcy, how about a billiard game or two?"

Darcy stood, stretched and replied with a snort. "Certainly, as long as you are prepared to lose another guinea or two...... Georgiana, my thanks and appreciation as well. Off to bed with you and I'll see you in the morning. I believe we are going to the Art Exhibit in the afternoon, are we not?"

"Thank you both and yes brother, we are and I am very much looking forward to it." With which Georgiana left the two men who then moved towards the billiard room. As they walked, Darcy first checked to make certain that Georgiana was out of hearing and then asked Fitzwilliam if he had received orders to take his regiment to Spain. Upon receiving a negative reply, Darcy noticeably relaxed but now really began to wonder as to the reason for Fitzwilliam's visit.

After entering the billiard room, they both availed themselves of the brandy decanter and racked up the balls for the first game. Discussion for the next hour was sparse with most comments restricted to calling the shots. Jibes and teasing comments were tossed back and forth - as between two men intimately comfortable each with the other - and another glass of brandy was consumed in relative harmony. Finally Fitzwilliam felt the time was right.

While getting them both another brandy, Fitzwilliam looked over at Darcy and said. "William, your game is really off tonight. I cannot remember the last time I won a couple of guineas from you at billiards."

Darcy shrugged and gave a dismissive wave of his hand and settled down in one of the comfortable chairs by the fireplace. Fitzwilliam took the opposite chair facing Darcy and continued. "As I am sure you realize by now, my visit tonight was for a purpose. My parents and Georgiana have all become increasingly concerned about your recent discomposure and moodiness. Mother was going to speak to you but I asked to do so instead. I did not say as much to Mother but I thought I might have more background knowledge and also that you might be more comfortable talking to me than to her. Am I not right?"

Darcy seemed to sink a little deeper in his chair and simply responded. "I am not prepared to discuss this, with you or my aunt, at this time, Richard. Please desist."

Fitzwilliam quietly considered Darcy for a few minutes and then stated. "William, you know you will talk to me at some point. You always do. However, this time I am going to do most of the talking at first. All that I ask, is that you listen to me without interruption." He paused to organize his thoughts and began.

"While I had noticed some discomposure in your manner prior to our visit to our Aunt Catherine, I really became concerned when we returned to London. It was obvious that something was amiss with you then. Fortunately perhaps, I was too involved with the training program and exercises for my regiment to be able to devote much attention to it. I say fortunately because I think the lapse in time allowed me to get some perspective on the matter. In any event, I talked to Georgie on several occasions during this period and she provided some information, both interesting and revealing."

"The first sign of a change in your behaviour was following your return from visiting Bingley in Hertfordshire. According to Georgie, you actually returned to London several weeks earlier than originally planned. As well you were abstracted and somewhat melancholy over Christmas and afterwards."

"Then we come to our visit to Aunt Catherine. The first oddity was the decision to call on the Parsonage. I put that down to the presence of Miss Bennett and the fact that you had also been introduced to Mr. And Mrs. Collins in Hertfordshire. However, your inclination to make additional calls as our visit progressed was odd since you normally avoid such contacts whenever possible."

"The next oddity, if that is the appropriate word to describe your behaviour, was your manner when in Miss Bennett's company. For someone deliberately seeking company, you were even more reticent than normal. I noticed as well that you watched Miss Bennett constantly, but, when Miss Bennett looked at you, your face seemed to freeze and almost became more withdrawn than normal, only softening when her eyes were focused elsewhere."

"Next to come to my notice was the manner in which Miss Bennett responded to you those evenings when she was visiting our Aunt Catherine. From my observation, Miss Bennett was not well pleased with you but since Miss Bennett is basically very civil, I could be wrong but it seemed to me that her impertinence was sharper or more biting when directed at you."

"I will not comment on our trip back to London other than to note an almost complete lack of conversation. After we returned to London, I recollected your rather conspicuous absences in the mornings during the last se'enday of our visit. You seemed to take morning walks quite frequently. The fact that Miss Bennett was also inclined to take long walks in the morning, and the coincidence of timing, only occurred to me later. Fortunately, our Aunt did not notice anything untoward. I believe or suspect that you were walking with Mis Bennett."

"One thing I should mention is that, during my last walk with Miss Bennett a day or two before we left, I mentioned your recent effort to protect Bingley from what you considered a most imprudent match. Since Bingley was in Hertfordshire from Michaelmas last year, I am not too hesitant now to assume that the lady concerned lived in Hertfordshire and was known to Miss Bennett. Certainly she was extremely unhappy and displeased with your efforts."

"Finally there was the evening when the Collins and guests were invited to dine at Rosings just prior to our departure. Miss Bennett was not of the party and you quickly disappeared leaving me to make excuses to our aunt. I did not see you again until the next day. You looked absolutely dreadful - as though you had not slept the night before. Your request that I apprise Miss Bennett of all the particulars concerning Wickham, including the Ramsgate incident, shocked me completely. I could not understand your purpose at that time. I would have complied with your request but Miss Bennett was, as I later informed you, not present during my visit to the parsonage later that day."

Darcy roused himself and looked like he was about to comment. Fitzwilliam quickly held up his hand and said "Please, William, let me finish."

At Darcy's reluctant nod, Fitzwilliam continued. "That, for the most part, represents the facts that I had to work from. I would now like to tell you what I have concluded."

"First, I believe you have developed a strong attachment to Miss Elizabeth Bennett which began in Hertfordshire. Second, I seriously question whether your attachment is reciprocated. I rather suspect the reverse. Third, I believe you and Miss Bennett had a serious argument on the evening you disappeared from Rosings. The objects of your disagreement I can only guess at, but I strongly suspect that Wickham was one of them. Finally, I am convinced that your attachment to Miss Bennett is unabated, hence your behaviour since returning from Rosings. Are these valid conclusions?"

Fitzwilliam paused to allow Darcy to respond but he seemed lost in thought. At last Fitzwilliam spoke softly once more. "Cousin, I should tell you this in all honesty. This may be the only time I envy your freedom to choose or regret that I am a second son. If I had had the means to support a wife, I would have followed Miss Bennett to Hertfordshire to court and win her hand in marriage. If you have any feelings for her, you must act on them. She is worth the winning."

Darcy sighed and spoke so softly that Fitzwilliam could barely hear the words. "I did ....and she refused my offer."

Fitzwilliam jerked upright in surprise. "What, she refused you? Why? How?"

When Darcy did not respond, Fitzwilliam spoke again more calmly. "William, you must tell me what happened and what was said. I suspect that for some time now you having been reliving the event over and over in your mind endlessly. You have my deepest sympathy. I can see that her refusal has pained you deeply but I think you need to talk to someone and I am here, willing to listen and not likely to kick you too hard when you are done."

Fitzwilliam spoke more quietly still. "Come cousin, talk to me."

Gradually Darcy began to talk and as the words began to flow, his anguish, anger and humiliation flowed with them. The story was incoherent at first but with a few quiet questions, Fitzwilliam began to grasp the essentials. He leaned back and regarded his cousin carefully, considering how best to approach the next step. Another brandy was definitely in order and he refilled their glasses and gave himself more time to think. Darcy seemed to sink even deeper into despondency.

"William, I am trying to grasp what happened." Fitzwilliam spoke slowly. "I admit to a considerable degree of shock at first and it is quite possible that I have not understood everything. Perhaps if I summarize my understanding of your offer and the response of Miss Bennett, it would help both of us to see things more clearly."

Fitzwilliam attempted to control his voice to eliminate any sense of censure as he began his summary. "First you told her you loved her against your character and will. Then you described how unworthy she was to be your wife - I believe the word degradation was used, was it not? - and then you asked her to marry you. Am I correct so far?"

Darcy grunted.

Fitzwilliam snorted. "I will take that as a Yes! At that point she accused you of ruining the hopes of her elder and favourite sister - the one she walked three miles through muddy roads to nurse - by separating her from Bingley whom she loved. I won't comment on your response to this accusation. Then she accused you of depriving Wickham of a valuable living. And then, basically she called you arrogant, conceited and possessed of a selfish distain for the feelings of others. Is this a reasonable summary?"

Darcy growled. "You left out that I am the last man she would ever marry."

"William, you obviously believed Miss Bennett to be expecting that you would make an offer but it is equally obvious that she did not. That suggests you did not make your intentions clearly known beforehand because I am pretty confident that, if Miss Bennett had had any inclination of such an interest, she would have very clearly dissuaded you. It also seems to me that you really do not know the lady very well."

Darcy looked at Fitzwilliam oddly. " I fear you are correct, Richard. In the past I have been careful to avoid any efforts by match-making mothers to attach my interest to their daughters. I never had to learn to court or be amiable to any lady of consequence. In Miss Bennett's case, early in our acquaintance, I made every effort to hide my interest in order to avoid raising her expectations. Obviously I was very successful in that at least. I was always at war with myself. I was becoming attached to her and fighting it at the same time. Her poor connections, lack of social status and the truly awful impropriety of her mother and younger sisters seemed to be insurmountable hurdles."

Fitzwilliam took a sip of his drink and said. "Well, I am glad you wrote her a letter explain the dealings with Wickham. Telling her the reasons for acting as you did with Bingley may help as well. I admit I am not altogether pleased with your role there simply because I don't think you were well qualified to know the heart of the lady concerned. How often were you actually in close company with her and Bingley? However, what truly upsets me were your actions - or rather, your lack of action - in regard to Wickham. I think Miss Bennett's reference to selfish distain for the feelings of others was very much in evidence there, even if Miss Bennett was not aware of it."

Darcy's head snapped up at Fitzwilliam's blunt statement. "I was trying to protect Georgiana."

"Nonsense, you could have exposed Wickham as a liar, a cheat, a gambler and a seducer without involving Georgiana at all. You essentially cared so little for the residents of Meryton and Longbourn that you could not make any effort to protect them against him. You are an intelligent man. How hard would it be to quietly let a few people know the details of his propensity to accumulate debts that are never paid, to leave behind debts of honour and his success at seducing the daughters of tradesmen? You could have spoken to his commanding officer at the very least. You left a woman you professed to care about, completely unprotected. People in the area invited you into their homes, dined with you and treated you with civility and this was how you repaid them. This was badly done cousin, very badly done!"

Fitzwilliam shook his head. "Well, it is too late now, the damage appears to have been done." He paused for several seconds and then looked at Darcy quizzically. "You know I rather suspected that Miss Bennett held you in low esteem before I mentioned to her anything about Bingley and her sister. Just as a matter of curiosity, when and how did you first meet her?"

"I have been going over that in my mind for the last few months." replied Darcy. "I can remember all of my contacts with Miss Elizabeth. It was at a local assembly held a day or two after we arrived in Netherfield. Bingley wanted to attend and dragged the rest of us along with him. I definitely did not want to be there. I am afraid I made my displeasure obvious to everyone."

"Ah, the famous Darcy glower designed to curdle milk and scare match-making mamas into the next room."

"Yes, well...... Bingley and I were introduced to Miss Elizabeth's mother. Bingley immediately solicited the next dance with the eldest daughter and Mrs. Bennett then tried to get me to dance with one of the remaining four. I was rather offended at her presumption but simply bowed and walked away. Later on Bingley annoyed me further by trying to get me to dance. He pointed to Miss Elizabeth who wasn't dancing at the time and sitting nearby. I made some stupid comment - designed solely to get Bingley to leave me alone. I had not thought it was heard by anyone else but I suspect now I was wrong."

"What did you say?"

"I don't remember exactly but I think I called her tolerable but not tempting enough to dance with. I believe I complimented the eldest Miss Bennett by saying she was the only beautiful woman in the room."

"Ahhhhh ...... well at your first meeting you managed to insult Miss Elizabeth twice and possibly a third time. That was certainly not a comment to be made in a public setting. No wonder she had a low opinion of your gentlemanly qualities. It's also no wonder Wickham's words fell on fertile soil."

Darcy ran his fingers through his hair, stood, stretched and began to pace. Fitzwilliam could see the old Darcy starting to emerge. He decided to wait until Darcy revealed his thoughts. Finally Darcy spoke.

"Richard, I appreciate this talk. My thoughts have been so confused that I hardly knew where to start. There is so much justice in Miss Elizabeth's charges against me. And while I am sure she has absolved me of blame regarding Wickham, the other charges are all too correct. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principal. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principals, but taught to follow them in pride and conceit. I was spoiled by my parents, who though good themselves (my father particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to to think meanly of their sense and worth compared to my own."

"I cannot say you are too hard on yourself, William. But chastising yourself is less important than correcting these faults. What do you intend to do about it?"

"I know that, as hard as it will be, I must attempt to remedy my mistake with Bingley. I may well lose his friendship over this but my honour demands that I tell him about Miss Bennett and my participation in those activities which separated her from him."

"When do you propose to do so?"

"Bingley is in the country at the moment, up north somewhere I believe. I have invited him and his sisters to Pemberley in August. That seems like the most appropriate time. I want to talk to him and explain my thoughts. A letter, in such a case, may spare my feelings but at his expense."

"I agree, though if he were in town now I would suggest acting immediately. How do you plan to address the major issue - your attitude towards and treatment of those outside your small circle?"

"I do not know. I expect that I will simply have to deliberately make the effort to converse and maintain a more amiable countenance. It will not be easy to undo the habits learned over the course of twenty years."

"There appears to me to be two more things to consider. First, you must tell Georgie a little bit of what has happened. Not everything obviously but enough to satisfy her concerns. This is your story and you must be the one to tell her something. She is old enough now to understand much of what happened. Second, and more important, what do you intend to do about Miss Elizabeth? You obviously still hold her in strong affection. I know that she was angry with you but you may have, or be able to, address two of the major complaints she charged you with. If you can show her that you have also changed, her opinion could also change. She is worth the winning, is she not?"

"I will try and talk to Georgie tomorrow. It won't be easy. As to the other, I am hopeful that if Bingley resumes his attachment to Miss Jane Bennett, I will be able to meet Miss Elizabeth frequently enough to show her, and possibly tell her, that her words were taken to heart."

Fitzwilliam nodded his head, looked at his watch and asked Darcy to put him up for the night since it was too late to return to his rooms in the barracks. Both gentlemen retired for the evening, satisfied with their evening's discussion.

Chapter 2

August 9 - Ambleside, Lakes District

It is not the object of this work to give a description of the Lakes District. For the three travellers, one enjoyment was certain, that of suitability as companions - a suitability which comprehended health and temper to bear inconveniences, cheerfulness to enhance every pleasure and affection and intelligence, to deal with and compensate for such disappointments which might occur. Their carriage drew up to the Inn where accommodations for the night had been prearranged. Their intention was to travel on the morrow towards Derbyshire and the village of Lambton where Mrs. Gardiner had lived for much of her life before her marriage.

As they were conducted by the innkeeper to their rooms, he mentioned that several letters had arrived by express earlier in the day. He promised to have them sent up immediately. Since it was two hours until dinner they had thought to walk around the village. Once the letters were delivered, Elizabeth saw that they were both from Jane and that one had been poorly addressed such that it had been sent elsewhere. Her uncle and aunt, leaving her to read and enjoy the letters, decided to walk towards the church a short distance away. The mis-sent letter had been written five days ago. It began with a description of recent parties and engagements and other such news as the area would supply; but the latter half, which was dated a day later, and written in obvious agitation, gave more important intelligence. It was to this effect,

"Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has occurred of a most unexpected and serious nature; but I am afraid of alarming you. Be assured that we are all well. What I have to say relates to poor Lydia. An express came at twelve last night, just as we were all gone to bed, from colonel Forster, to inform us that she was gone off to Scotland with one of his officers; to own the truth, with Wickham! Imagine our surprise. To Kitty, however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. I am very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both sides! But I am willing to hope the best, and that his character has been misunderstood. Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe him, but this step (and let us rejoice over it) marks nothing bad at heart. His choice is disinterested at least, for he must know my father can give her nothing. Our poor mother is sadly grieved. My father bears it better. How thankful am I that we never let them know what has been said against him! We must forget it ourselves. They were off Saturday night about twelve, as is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning at eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they must passed within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives us reason to expect him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for his wife, informing her of their intention. I must conclude, for I cannot be long from my poor mother.i am afraid you will not be able to make it out, but I hardly know what I have written."

Without allowing herself time for consideration, and scarcely knowing what she felt, Elizabeth impatiently opened the second letter and read as follows. It had been written a day later than the conclusion of the first.

"By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried letter. I wish this may be more intelligible; but though not confined for time, my head is so bewildered that I cannot answer for being coherent. Dearest Lizzy, I hardly know what I would write, but I have bad news for you, and it cannot be delayed. Imprudent as a marriage between Mr. Wickham and our poor Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured it has taken place, for there is too much reason to fear that they are not gone to Scotland. Colonel Forster came yesterday, having left Brighton the day before, not many hours after the express. Though Lydia's short letter to Mrs. F gave them to understand that they were going to Gretna Green, something was dropped by Denny expressing his belief that W. Never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all, which was repeated to Colonel F. who, instantly taking the alarm, set off from B., intending to trace their route. He did trace them easily to Clapham, but no further; for on entering that place, they removed into a hackney coach, and dismissed the chaise that brought them from Epsom. All that is known after this is that they were seen to continue the London road.

I take up my pen again to do what I have just told you I would not; but circumstances are such that I cannot help earnestly begging you all to come here as soon as possible. I know my dear uncle and aunt so well I am not afraid of requesting it, though I have still something more to ask of the former. My father is going to London with Colonel Forster instantly, to try to discover her. What he means to do, I am sure I know not; his excessive distress will not allow him to pursue any measure in the best and safest way, and Colonel Forster is obliged to be at Brighton again tomorrow evening. In such an exigences my uncle's advice would be everything in the world; he will immediately comprehend what I must feel, and I rely upon his goodness."

"Where is my uncle?" cried Elizabeth darting from her seat to the door and, seeing a servant girl in the hall, called to her. "Please, I need someone to go and get my uncle and aunt - Gardiner is their name. They have walked down towards the church. They must return here with no delay. It is most urgent.

Upon receiving the servant's assent to fetch them, Elizabeth returned to her room, collapsing on the chair in tears. She was not sensible of how much time had lapsed before the Gardiners hurried back, alarmed that their niece had suddenly taken ill. Elizabeth was able to quickly alleviate their concerns on that regard, but reading them the two letters, they could not help but be very affected. Not only for Lydia, who had never been a favourite with them, but for all the family. Mr. Gardiner quickly promised his full and ready assistance. Elizabeth, expecting no less, expressed her gratitude. While they were desirous of leaving immediately, it was apparent that they could not make the nearest stopping point in the few hours of daylight remaining and so all preparations were made as to depart at first light on the morrow.

That evening after they finished their packing, they discussed the matter further. The Gardiners were inclined, at first, to lend some credence to Jane's belief in Wickham's willingness to enter into a marriage with Lydia. Mr. Gardiner expressed his thoughts as such "Having thought about this further, Lizzy, I am inclined to think as your sister does. I cannot suppose Wickham to be so lacking in character as to have designs upon a young women who is not wholly unprotected, who was not friendless, and was under the protection of the Colonel of his regiment. I am inclined to hope for the best. Would he risk losing his place in the regiment by not forming an attachment to her? Surely the risk is too great to behave in other than an honourable fashion?

"I believe him capable of the worst possible behaviour." cried Elizabeth. "He will act in the most mercenary fashion; and will not scruple to compromise Lydia with no regard for anything other than his own needs and well-being. Oh my poor, foolish Lydia, she is lost and ruined. I, who knew what Wickham was, did not reveal to the world his character. If I had, it is unlikely my father would have allowed Lydia to travel to Brighton."

Her aunt and uncle looked at each other in some confusion since Elizabeth's words seem to suggest a degree of knowledge not previously made known to them. Her aunt asked "Were you aware, Lizzy, of an attachment between Lydia and Wickham?"

"No, not at all. I saw some inclination towards him when he first arrived, but no more than the rest of us." Elizabeth blushed as she uttered these words, remembering her early familiarity with Wickham. "Lydia's attentions seemed to be directed to Lieutenant Denny in fact."

"Well, if that is the case, I really think you take too much upon yourself, Lizzy." Her uncle cautioned. "However, you appear to have recourse to more information regarding Wickham than is currently known to us. Could you enlighten us?"

"Surely it is still possible that they have gone to Scotland?" asked Mrs. Gardiner.

"Perhaps so. I hope it possible indeed but the fact that they were thought to be seen on the road to London, suggests that was the destination. As well there was no trace of them on the Barnet road."

"So then their destination is probably London. An odd choice for a couple with, I suspect, limited funds." replied Mr. Gardiner. "However it has the virtue of being an excellent place to remain undiscovered if such is Wickham's intent. But I ask again, Lizzy. You seem to know more about Wickham and his character than I previously been led to believe."

"I"......I have received some information in confidence while in Kent. I cannot provide details but Wickham has spread many lies about the Darcy family and the truth does not favour Mr. Wickham. I doubt not that he has accumulated debts of honour and is likely indebted to many tradesmen in Meryton. There may be other more serious misbehaviours but I cannot attest to them. His amiability has hidden a man of dissolute habits."

Her aunt and uncle looked increasingly distressed as Elizabeth spoke. Her aunt exclaimed "You expect Wickham to have no intention of marrying Lydia then?"

"Since it would have been imprudent for me to have formed an attachment for him given our respective poverty, why would it be less so for Lydia? Fortunately, I had no serious interest beyond simple friendship but Wickham must marry a women with a respectable fortune and neither Lydia or myself have such. Why else would he marry? How could he marry and support a wife? He cannot do either. It is altogether too horrible!"

Mrs. Gardiner hesitantly asked "Do you think Lydia so lost to everything but love of him as to consent to live with him on any condition other than marriage?"

Tears streaming from her eyes, Elizabeth replied. "I know not. I would hope not. I cannot wish to think so ill of a sister. It is shocking to harbour such thoughts indeed but her behaviour has been so wild, so ungovernable as to lead me to believe it very possible. She is so young, and has been allowed to spend her days in frivolous and idle activities to the exclusion of all else. No effort has been expended to control her behaviour in public and indeed she has been encouraged to think only of love, flirtation and officers. Her feelings are lively enough and she has been given free rein to exercise them. Her......susceptibility - for want of a better word - is such that she could be easy prey for such a man as Wickham who has the charm of address and person to captivate any women."

"But Jane does not appear to think so ill of him." replied Mr. Gardiner.

"Of whom does Jane ever think ill? She would be willing to excuse any behaviour until such time it has been absolutely proven against them. Indeed Jane knows the truth about Wickham as well as I do. We both know that he is profligate in every sense of the word, is without honour or integrity, and is as false and deceitful as he is insinuating."

With these dismal thoughts, they retired to bed in order to rise as early as possible and begin the return to Longbourn. The Gardiners talked quietly together about Elizabeth's surprising knowledge of Wickham. They became convinced that their niece was holding close some circumstance of a personal nature but knowing her reluctance to disclose her inner-most thoughts, they were inclined to not press her to reveal them. At least, not yet.

As Elizabeth sought repose, her final thoughts were on Mr. Darcy and how relieved he must feel when the news of the scandal attached to the Bennett name became public - because it would do so eventually - that he had not attached to such a family.

Chapter 3

August 9 - Pemberley, Derbyshire

Fitzwilliam Darcy was considering how he was going to explain to his best friend, Charles Bingley, that he had erred grievously in his advice regarding Jane Bennet. It was probably going to be difficult inasmuch as Charles had displayed a pronounced affection for the lady. Darcy had been waiting several days since the arrival at Pemberley of Georgiana and Bingley and his sisters and brother-in-law, MR. Hurst. He had thought it best to allow a day or two for everyone to recover from the rigours of travelling for three days from London. Yesterday they had taken advantage of a particularly warm day and invited several neighbouring families to a picnic by the pond.

Today had been spent touring the grounds in an open carriage. This had given Miss Bingley an excellent opportunity to rhapsodize over the beauties of Pemberley. It would have been more appreciated if he could have detected a touch of sincerity in those praises; unfortunately, he could not. Such praises were obviously, to him at least, designed to flatter him rather than reflecting any true appreciation for the grounds themselves. He doubted Miss Bingley would ever venture to walk through the grounds unless it was to accompany him. One could not get a true appreciation of the beauty of Pemberley unless one walked or rode the various trails and pathways. It had taken centuries to create the beauties of Pemberley; they could not be canvassed in an hour or two in a carriage.

He rather thought that everyone would be grateful for a quiet evening. He would prevail upon Georgiana and Bingley's sisters to entertain them with some music after dinner. He and Charles could talk afterwards; Hurst would almost assuredly be sleeping by then, as usual.

Darcy poured a glass of port for himself and Bingley. The men had moved to the library after the ladies and Hurst had retired for the night. Darcy and Bingley held a companionable silence as they savoured their drinks. Bingley seemed quite relaxed and, if he occasionally appeared slightly lost in thought, his manner contained little of the melancholy that was its characteristic during the winter in London. This puzzled Darcy a little and, rather than immediately opening the discussion that was weighing on him, he decided to temporize with a more general conversation.

"You must have in the north for several months before returning to London. What drew you there, Charles?"

"Business, Darcy. Well, business and family would probably be more accurate. You remember that Louisa, Caroline and I are originally from the area. I have never spoken much of my family but my parents each had several brothers and sisters all of whom remained in the region. As a result I have quite a family of uncles, aunts and cousins scattered thereabouts. To my regret, I really had little converse with them after I left to attend Cambridge. Of course, Caroline had no intention of maintaining any relationship once she moved to London."

"Since I had rather urgent business in the area, I took the opportunity to re-establish a familial relationship when time allowed. In fact, the society was both amiable and interesting and I willingly extended my stay by almost a month."

"I was aware that you were maintaining your ties to the business interests you inherited from your father but I did not expect that you were actively involved in the operations of such concerns."

"Well, truthfully I have generally left the operation to several men that my father employed just prior to his death. I have full confidence in them and restrict myself to overseeing their activities. However, there are some recent circumstances that seem to call for a more active engagement on my part. At least this was the opinion of those persons and, once I had discussed the issues with them, I concurred with their opinion. I spent a good deal of time discussing their suggestions. It was an extremely interesting time. I cannot remember feeling so alert and satisfied since I left Cambridge."

"Are you in a position to be more specific on these issues or are they of a particularly confidential nature?"

"I really cannot be too specific. Essentially, I am planning to be more directly involved in the running of these companies. We will be enlarging our operations and introducing some machines that have recently been created."

"Are your intentions still directed towards acquiring an estate?"

"Yes, eventually, although I have decided it is not something that I can accomplish right now. With much of my time spent in the north, I will have to consider where I want to purchase."

"There are certainly no shortage of estates in Derbyshire and other northern areas. Are you thinking then of giving up the lease on Netherfield?"

"Yes, I expect so. If I am spending more time in the north, I would not likely use the place with any frequency."

"I see." Darcy paused for a minute or two considering this rather new Bingley and not sure if he approved altogether with the changes that he was contemplating. However, after one disastrous intervention, he was reluctant to be critical. Besides, Charles did not appear to be soliciting his advice or opinion. Despite everything, his honour required that he confess to Charles how badly he had erred in regard to Jane Bennet. Let Charles make of it as he must.

"Charles, there was something I need to tell - confess - to you. While I was, I thought, acting in your best interest, I now see my actions as unwarranted interference. I do apologize and ask your forgiveness although I would not blame you if you were to refuse both."

"My God, Darcy, this sounds serious. I can think of nothing that would cause you this much concern."

"Hear me out. To speak plainly, I am sure you remember leaving Netherfield last November, repairing to London where your sisters and I joined you several days later. The sole purpose of our following you was to dissuade you from forming an attachment to Miss Jane Bennet. Your sisters were mainly concerned with the impropriety of Miss Bennet's family, other than herself and Miss Elizabeth, and the lack of connections of the family. Your sisters had much higher expectations for your marriage. While I was in agreement with your sister's concerns, my chief object was to ensure that you were not entrapped in a marriage of unequal affections. I could see your affection clearly; I could see no matching affection from Miss Bennet."

"I now believe I was wrong. I spent last Easter visiting my aunt in Kent. While there I was frequently in company with Miss Elizabeth Bennet who was visiting her cousin, Mr. Collins, who lived at the parsonage attached to my aunt's estate of Rosings Park. Miss Elizabeth had cause to learn of my involvement and, with her characteristic desire to protect her sister, took issue with my opinion. While I had not observed a clear affection, Miss Elizabeth was clearly of the opinion that Miss Bennet did indeed feel strongly but, since her nature was to conceal her innermost feelings, her countenance was uniformly serene. I do not recant my observations but the opinion of Miss Elizabeth must assuredly carry greater weight. It seems likely, therefore, that Miss Bennet did return your affection and my advice to you, to have been wrong."

"While I admit that I was quite possibly wrong in my advice, it was honestly tendered. However, I also later committed a more serious offence and one that I now consider to have been dishonourable. I withheld from you the fact that Miss Bennet spent several months in London after Christmas and, in fact, called your sisters. They returned the call although they waited three weeks to do so. As well their manner when making the call was such as to lead Miss Bennet that you no longer held any affection for her. Your sisters and I agreed that your feelings were too tender at that time to risk meeting Miss Bennet. It was presumptious of me to have acted in this fashion."

Darcy had barely looked at Bingley throughout his confession and now, when he did so, he could not discover from his visage, the thoughts or feelings displayed there. He simply waited for a reaction, any reaction. He expected anger, but that seemed absent. If anything, Bingley looked bemused, uncertain.

Bingley rose and went to the sideboard to refill his glass. He waved the decanter in Darcy's direction but, upon his shake of the head, returned to his seat. His words came slowly and somewhat hesitantly.

"Your apology is accepted, of course, and you are forgiven. I think, if you had made this confession before I had gone north, I might have received it in quite a different manner. My feelings then are quite different than they are now. I am not sure how this change took place although I suspect that it is, at least in part, the result of the interest in those business dealings that I spoke of earlier."

"You remember I spoke of my family in the area. I had cause to meet my father's younger brother while in the area and was invited to stay for several weeks with his family. A truly fine man although lacking many of the surface graces deemed to be required to call oneself a gentleman but in the essentials - honour, integrity, courage, decency - he was a gentleman and one I am proud to know. Anyway, one evening we talked later into the night and consumed a fair amount of wine in the process. He had noticed a certain degree of melancholy in my countenance when I first arrived and was pleased to see it fading as my visit extended. He simply asked as to the cause and I told him all about Miss Bennet, my feelings and my sister's concerns. Your concerns, particularly that she did not have an affection equal to my own, were mentioned ."

Bingley noticed a reaction from Darcy and immediately gave a short laugh saying. "Relax, I did not reveal your name although it is possible that he inferred it due to our friendship."

"My uncle listened carefully and, after considering what was said, asked a couple of pertinent questions so as to clarify a few misunderstandings. Remember I mentioned that he was a good man; well he has a fine mind also. I began to feel I was back in Cambridge with a tutor employing the Socratic question and answer method. It was torturous but gradually I came to one basic conclusion."

"If I had truly loved Miss Bennet, I would not have been so easily convinced to give her up. My uncle's opinion, and I am quite inclined to agree with him, is that I was not ready to marry. He called me a 'puppy' and that is, I think a good description of my behaviour. I hope to grow and, perhaps in a year or two, to be ready to consider marriage. When I do, I hope to meet and win a woman such as Miss Bennet."

Darcy looked at Bingley and tried to hide the consternation he felt. He could not but rejoice to see his friend's new-found maturity and was quick to complement him accordingly.

"Charles, I cannot express enough my pleasure in listening to you tonight. It seems to me that you have grown a couple of years in the few scant months that you were away. My only regret is that you did not visit this uncle sooner. He is a man I would like to include among my acquaintance. I think it is fair to say then, that you will not be renewing the Netherfield lease."

Bingley's reply of 'No' was quite definite.

Darcy inspected his wine glass thoroughly and a small smile could be seen forming. "Have you considered the impact of your shift to the north on your sisters, particularly Caroline? I cannot imagine that she will be delighted to leave London."

Bingley laughed outright. "Darcy teasing? This is a first. Actually my uncle and I discussed this very thing. He believes, and I have come to agree, that Caroline would do well to try and navigate the London season on her own; that I recognize her desires are not mine and that I would do well to create an establishment for her in London. I will be instructing my solicitor to find suitable accommodations for her. Her dowry will provide her a living allowance which I may supplement until such time as she marries. She will need to hire a companion unless the Hursts are willing to be part of the establishment. I have yet to discuss this with either of my sisters. Of one thing I am certain, Caroline will not be part of my household in the future."

Darcy's smile expanded. "I do not want to be in the area when you inform Caroline of your decision. Please wait until you leave Pemberley."

"Well I can hardly blame you for that; however, it does raise another problem for me. I do not expect to spend as much time in London as in the past and I am reluctant to stay with either the Hurst or Caroline. Would I be impossing too much to ask to stay at Darcy House for those weeks I am in town?"

"Not an imposition at all. You will be more than welcome to stay and for as long as you like." Darcy fell silent and then asked. "There is something else that just occurred to me. You left Hertfordshire quite precipitously and you did not take a proper leave-taking of the families in the area. Do you think it advisable to visit the area for a day or two, to take proper leave of everyone?"

After pondering the question for several minutes, Bingley replied. "I suppose it could be done but, since the other commitments that I have entered into will not allow me to visit the area until very late in the year, I am not sure that such strict adherence to propriety will serve any purpose. My lease will have expired and I would be required to find lodgings elsewhere. No, I will not return. If I am in the area on some other purpose, I may well make my apologies to such families as I may encounter. But visit for that purpose, No!"

After thinking about this for a moment or two, Darcy nodded his acquiesnce and then, looking at Bingley, began to chuckle. Queried by a perplexed Bingley, he stifled his mirth and answered, "I have just realized another reason to celebrate your change in plans."

"Oh, and pray what is that?"

"Well my friend, if you plan to become more fully engaged in business affairs, you will be corresponding with others frequently. Your handwriting is so atrocious that you will either have to learn to write properly so that a normal person does not have to interpret your words or engage a secretary to do it for you. I suggest the secretary since years would probably be required for you to improve your writing."
Bingley chuckled, "That is a suggestion to which I will give serious consideration. I thank you, my friend."

They then began to talk of other matters. Activities for the morrow were considered and an early morning ride was agreed upon. Georgiana had expressed an interest in once again visiting some local ruins and Darcy would invite her to join them. Neither of Bingley's sisters were much interested in riding and neither man considered inviting them to the outing.

Bingley excused himself to get some sleep and Darcy was left to ponder a problem that he had truly not anticipated. How was he going to meet Elizabeth Bennet again? He could not contemplate simply riding up to her door at Longbourn and calling on her. Their last meeting had been too tumultuous, her anger too great, for him to want to chance anything so direct. He wanted to come into her company obliquely and assess her feelings towards himself. He had no idea how his letter had been received and now Bingley would not be returning to attach himself to her sister. He could see no way forward at this time. And waiting was so very hard!"

Chapter 4

Posted on 2014-12-18

September 5, 1812 - Longbourn
It was a pleasantly warm late summer day and Elizabeth found herself able to enjoy an hour or two of in solitude before tea. Her intent had been to sit in the garden and enjoy a new book of poetry that Uncle Gardiner had sent to her; however, she could not bring her mind to concentrate on the words in front of her. The window of her mother's room was open and she could hear her mother's voice rising and falling in volume as she gossiped with her sister, Mrs. Phillips. She could see, through the library window, her father reading in his comfortable chair while the sounds of a piano indicated that Mary was working on a new piece of music. In the garden, Jane was cutting fresh flowers for the parlour while Kitty whiled the time away on the swing. Elizabeth's book lay open in her lap as thoughts drifted towards those events which had so radically altered the lives of the Bennet family over the past month.

To this day, she could remember little of her tour of The Lakes and her memory of the drive from Ambleside to Longbourn was a compound of mental and physical distress. Fortunately time had blotted out much of the torment.

Those small traces of optimism - that Lydia could be found and married to Wickham - that existed in the hearts of her family, had gradually been extinguished by the futility of the searches and endeavours of her father and uncle to locate them. Alone of her family, Elizabeth had never believed there to be any hope; her knowledge of Wickham's character would not admit of such. The tide of reports emanating from Meryton with regard to Wickham - there was scarcely a tradesman to whom he did not owe money or whose daughter had been subject to his seductions - even, if only half true (which Elizabeth thought likely), could not help but confirm a belief in the licentiousness of his character. There could no longer be any expectation of a happy outcome and Lydia's ruination was to encompass them all.

Already the family had been virtually ostracized. The only regular visitor was their Aunt Phillips to impart such news and gossip as she had obtained in Meryton; and, while Lady Lucas visited once a week, she did so unaccompanied by her daughters and had not invited the Bennet family to Lucas Hall. When Elizabeth and her sisters walked in Meryton, people would acknowledge their greetings but made no effort to stop and talk. Similarly, shopkeepers were more than content to accept their money, but customers in the shops did not initiate conversation as would have happened in the past. While There was to be an assembly in a fortnight, the Bennet sisters would not be attending this year. What would be the point? They were unlikely to be invited to dance and they would be the object of conversation and not participants.

Even attending church services found them in a cocoon of silence, isolated in their pew. Only the rector seemed sympathetic and generally had a small smile and a few words of comfort as he greeted them following the service. Thankfully he had not, in his sermons, dealt on the evils of licentious behaviour. Elizabeth could only rejoice that Mr. Collins was preaching in Kent and not Hertfordshire. The latter's letter to her father decrying Lydia's actions was, in equal parts, foolish and insulting and she could only hope that her father had consigned it to the fire after reading it. With no little amusement, she observed that her rejection of his marriage offer now pleased MR. Collins as much as herself.

She shook her head to clear such thoughts and forced herself to consider how her family was responding to their new situation. Her mother had taken to her rooms almost immediately following the news of the elopement, attended now only by Jane, Mary and the housekeeper - Hill - in whom they could repose much confidence. Elizabeth had attempted to assist them but found her temper not up to the challenge of suffering the complaints of her mother who bitterly found fault with the Forsters for not taking appropriate care of Lydia; her father for not allowing her - Mrs. Bennet - to go to Brighton to chaperone Lydia; Wickham for his licentious behaviour; Elizabeth for not marrying MR. Collins, since presumably Lydia would have been in Kent had she done so; and even Jane for failing to secure MR. Bingley, though Elizabeth could not identify how this would have prevented Lydia's misbehaviour. The only persons for whom no blame was attached were those who were most to blame, Lydia for foolish and improper behaviour and herself for permitting, even encouraging, a frivolous and self-indulgent behaviour of a daughter lost to any sense of propriety.

Kitty was an enigma to her. They had never been close since Kitty was very much Lydia's shadow. Now she seemed adrift. The departure of the militia, the loss of Lydia who had been the instigator of many of their activities, the strictures of her father - incensed because she had withheld from him a prior knowledge of Lydia's growing attachment to Wickham, all combined with a lack of any accomplishment - apart from decorating bonnets - and a weak understanding of any subject, left her with no resources to engage her mind. In truth she looked and acted bored, irritable and idle.

When Elizabeth considered her next oldest sister, Mary, she could only realize how the enforced isolation was accentuating her predominant characteristics. Mary, not overly appreciative of society in the first instance, the loss of such only served to increase the time she could devote to reading sermons and scriptures, moralizing endlessly over the transgressions of Lydia and playing extremely tedious music on the piano. Elizabeth was not sure that she could be held responsible for her response if she had to endure one more lecture on the fragility of a women's virtue, the need to ensure one's behaviour did not attract the attentions of an undeserving man and the irretrievable nature of a loss of reputation on the part of a lady.

Elizabeth was having a much harder time ascertaining Jane's feelings. Caring for their mother consumed much of Jane's time and, for some reason, they had not had as many late night talks prior to sleeping. It had been difficult for Jane to surrender her belief that Wickham would eventually behave in a proper manner and marry Lydia. She could not conceive of such wickedness and, even now, Elizabeth suspected Jane to harbour secret hopes that all would turn out right. Jane's serenity could not be as untouched as her countenance and manner would suggest.

For herself, Elizabeth knew that it her predominant feeling of anger was directed at herself for failing to warn people - and her father specifically - of the wickedness of which Wickham was capable. She regretted being unable to find a way to apprise her father, at least, of the particulars of Wickham's past deeds without revealing the source of her information. At various times, she found herself furious with Lydia for her self-indulgent, thoughtless behaviour; at her mother for indulging Lydia to the ruin of all their reputations; at Wickham for being Wickham; and even at her father for his inability to control and discipline his family.

As time passed, she came to the realization that, as much as she loved her father, his was a sadly flawed character. Oddly enough, despite being perhaps ultimately responsible for the disaster they faced, he was the least affected as his life previously was spent largely ensconced in his library with books and port. He socialized as little as possible, was never averse to avoiding company and treasured peace and quiet and now had a surfeit of both. Elizabeth's had managed to disguise her disappointment with him but now felt less inclined to seek his company in the library. She was uncertain if her father had noticed her discomfort, he certainly had not teased her about it.

Oddly enough her thoughts now turned very rarely to Darcy. If she had hidden in a small corner of heart, any thoughts of a renewal of his addresses, they had died with Jane's letter in August. When she considered his concerns about the propriety of her family, she could not fault his reluctance to attach himself to them. He would surely congratulate himself on having avoided such an attachment when he learned of Lydia's situation.

Darcy's comments with respect to her family now troubled her less than they had when she first read his letter. Its truth was incontrovertible. Her mother's incivility and grossly improper behaviour and the wild unconstrained public behaviour of her two youngest sisters in particular had always been embarrassing. It was clear that they had materially damaged the prospects of Jane and even herself to some degree even before Lydia's disgrace. The Bennet family, with the exception of herself and Jane, had displayed serious improprieties. Previously, Elizabeth could only ignore such behaviour since she could not correct her mother and the latter constantly overruled the efforts of Jane and herself to correct the youngest girls. But Darcy's letter had required her to face things more directly.

Her father, as head of the family, must bear the ultimate responsibility for the family's reputation and respectability. When she compared the behaviour of her uncle and even Darcy himself, to that of her father who was head of the Bennet family, she could not help but become dissatisfied. His was the final voice in decisions but all to often that voice seemed to be lacking.

Her observations of Darcy led her to believe that he took his responsibilities to manage Pemberley very seriously. His business correspondence while staying at Netherfield was large, while he also visited his aunt's estate at Rosings Park annually to help with its management. As well, he was a considerate and involved brother and guardian for a sister more than ten years his junior. And he had been doing so for the last five years from the age of two and twenty. At an age when most young men were engaged in frivolous activities, he was required to assume heavy responsibilities. It spoke to his worthiness that he was able to do so successfully.

However, when she considered her Uncle Gardiner, the deficiencies of her father became even more apparent. She had always viewed her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner as second parents. She now realized how significant they were in teaching appropriate behaviour to herself and Jane. Mrs. Bennet had little knowledge of what constituted appropriate behaviour and her father was too disinterested to instruct or control her behaviour. The Gardiners, because their family responsibilities were yet light, were able to guide the two eldest Bennet sisters - who visited them regularly - at the time when they were first being introduced to society. As the Gardiner's family responsibilities expanded, they had less time to devote to instructing the younger Bennet sisters who then, to their detriment, took their guidance from their mother.

Elizabeth could only look at the situation with dismay; her mother was uncontrolled and her father seemingly interested only in maintaining his peace and quiet. Lydia's sojourn in Brighton and it's consequence was proof of such, if proof were needed. Both Elizabeth and Jane had protested against allowing her to go, mentioning her uncontrolled behaviour, a disregard for even the basic proprieties and the lack of supervision that would likely exist in Brighton. Despite such protestations from Jane and herself, to Brighton Lydia went. Mr. Bennet treasured his peace and believed her to be too poor for her to be in any danger. Elizabeth was not inclined to celebrate having her judgement vindicated.

Elizabeth had never been blind to the Impropriety of her father's behaviour as a husband. She recognized and was grateful for his treatment of her which was all that was affectionate and respectful. She had, in the past, ignored his treatment of her mother in holding her up to ridicule by his children and his treatment bordering on contempt for her younger sisters. The situation in which they now found themselves did not appear to Elizabeth to be one for which either parent was equipped to provide guidance. Both were withdrawn, one to her room and the other to his library.

Elizabeth was not by nature inclined to melancholy nor to inactivity and she felt a need to do something - anything - to improve the outlook of herself, at least, and perhaps her sisters. She had to break out of the ennui and feelings of helplessness and anger that engulfed her and begin to find useful activities to fill the void that now existed. She needed to talk to Jane. She already had a few thoughts and she firmly believed that Jane could be convinced to assist her. She would think more on this tonight and discuss with Jane and perhaps her father tomorrow.

Chapter 5

September 7, 1812 - London
Bingley looked at his two sisters and his brother-in-law, Randolph Hurst, and gave a soft sigh. He realized he could not put things off any longer and spoke, "Can I see you all in the library, please. There is something I have to discuss with you all."

He got up from the dinner table, and moved quickly towards the library, not giving anyone the opportunity to complain or raise questions. He went immediately to the sideboard and poured a glass of wine for his sisters and port for himself and Hurst. Handing Louisa and Hurst their glasses, he noticed that Caroline had not entered the room.

"Where is Caroline?" he asked Loiusa.

"I thought I saw her going upstairs."

Bingley immediately went to the door, summoned the first maid he saw and told her to inform his sister that he was requesting her presence in the library Immediately. After several minutes of desultory conversation the maid returned with the message that Miss Caroline would be down later. At this Bingley strode from the room and ran up the stairs, knocked firmly on Caroline's door. Upon acknowledgement, he opened the door and saw his sister sitting calmly on a settee looking at a magazine. Keeping a very tight control on his temper and voice, he said "I believe I asked you to attend me in the library. You have ignored me. I am not interested in your reasons for doing so. You will accompany me downstairs now or decisions will be made that affect you and your concerns will not be heard at all and ignored thereafter. Are you coming?"

Caroline looked affronted and replied "I am not in ...."

Bingley interrupted. "Very well. So be it." and closed the door before she could finish. Shaking his head he walked briskly downstairs. Before he had reached the bottom, he heard a door open and close and footsteps quickly following him down the stairs. He could sense Caroline behind him - her perfume was quite distinct. Not unpleasant, but also not one he found particularly attractive.

Turning he watch Caroline pass and sit beside Louisa. After carefully closing the door, he moved to the side table and he picked up her glass, passed it to her and then sat himself in his own chair facing them all. Taking a sip of his port, he considered his two sisters carefully. His uncle had spoken with him about this meeting and had made some suggestions as to how to present his decisions and their options to them. He had made a few notes and had worked out a basic approach. Now to see if he could get their compliance with a minimum of conflict. Caroline would be the most difficult one to convince. He could sense a touch of uneasiness in Louisa and Caroline as his silence continued. That did not bother him particularly and, in fact, he took some small enjoyment from their uncertainty. No matter! It was time to begin.

"I am sure that you are all wondering why I asked to talk to you tonight. There are a number of things that I want to bring up. First, I had a long talk with Darcy while at Pemberley. It was most revealing, particularly in respect of your behaviour towards Miss Jane Bennet last winter."

He watched the shock on the faces of his sisters, followed by a flush of anger on Caroline's face and possibly embarrassment on Louisa's face. He cut off a sputtering comment from Caroline by raising up his hand.

"Do not bother to deny it. Darcy told me the whole thing and you both have embarrassed me quite a bit. I would add that, upon recollection, your behaviour while at Netherfield was disgraceful from the moment we arrived to when we left. Your incivility and thinly disguised contempt for our neighbours during our residence there convinced me that I cannot trusted either of my sisters to act as a hostess in the future."

"During my stay in the north I was reconsidering my future. I have decided to move to York to be closer to the companies that our father built. I will be working more closely with my uncles and relatives in the north and, while I will still visit London, it probably will be for only short periods of time. I will be buying a residence in York and selling this house. When I visit London, Darcy has graciously offered to let me stay at his residence."

He could see the shock on Caroline's face and a growing anger. Determined to finish what he wanted to say before commencing the argument he knew would follow, he raised his voice a notch.

"Caroline, be quiet! You will have a chance to speak when I am done." pausing for only a second or two, he continued."What I have said so far is not open to discussion. I am not interested in your views on my activities. However, I am prepared to discuss your choices for the future."

"Caroline, you are now over three and twenty. Your dowry can be placed in your control in two years and that is what I plan to do. I am prepared to instruct my solicitor to make such arrangements as are necessary to accomplish this. I am assuming that there is no desire on the part of you or Louisa to move to York and that you would much prefer to reside in London. The question I would ask is whether you wish to live with the Hursts, should they be agreeable to that, or whether you prefer to set up your own establishment. If the latter, my solicitor can arrange to lease an apartment for you. If you have your own establishment, a companion will be required but Louisa and I can surely hire someone suitable. I am prepared to provide some modest assistance in the matter of acquiring an apartment. "

Bingley looked at his sisters. "Should I leave you to discuss this between yourselves?"

"But brother, what about our father's wish that you buy an estate? Surely you are not going to ignore that! And who will host for you in York if Caroline and I are in London?

"I plan to buy an estate close to York and I have asked Aunt Julia to acted as my hostess in York. She is a fine, sociable woman, well connected in that city and was delighted at the opportunity. She is a widow whose children are all married and the situation appears to satisfy her quite well. "

"I must also tell you both that Darcy has told me in no uncertain terms that he will no longer tolerate your using his name to get invitations to dinners or parties or balls. And, to emphasize something I have told you repeatedly, he has no intention, and has never had an intention, of offering for you Caroline. You must look elsewhere for a husband."

Caroline finally found her voice and the pitch was, if anything, higher than normal even for her. Bingley winced. She was so incoherent that he was not actually sure what concerned her most; his departure from London, his move to York or the diminution of the Darcy connection.

As he listened, he remembered the words of his uncle "When you think your resolve is weakening or your are losing patience or control, change your position. Get up, walk around, leave the room, get a drink ... but do something different!" He abruptly got up and prepared to leave the room, saying. "I am going out for a bit of fresh air. I suggest you talk this over and we can discuss what you want to do when I return in an hour or so."

With that he collected his coat, hat and walking stick from a footman and headed in the direction of the nearest park. Fortunately, there was still enough light remaining in the day for him to enjoy the evening colours. Quite a few people had been attracted to the outdoors given the comfortable temperatures and mild breeze. He met and chatted with several acquaintances on his walk and by the time he entered his house once again, almost two hours had passed.

Divesting himself of his outerwear, he inquired as to the presence of his sisters and, upon being told that they were in the library, he asked to have coffee delivered there. He then entered the library to find both sisters obviously waiting for him. Randolph was stretched out in a chair, dozing to all appearances. He wondered if he was even aware of the discussion, until he saw him wink at him surreptitiously. Caroline was the first to speak as he sat in his usual chair. She was obviously making every attempt to appear reasonable.

"You cannot be serious about leaving London. My chances of meeting and attaching a suitor will be much, much poorer if you are not here."

"Caroline, how many years have you been 'out', four? five? I have been there for all of them. During that time you have had multiple opportunities to acquire friends and acquaintances to provide access to such events as you need. I warned you repeatedly that fixating on Darcy was going to be unsuccessful. You chose to ignore me. Now you will have to manage on your own. If you have failed to acquire the connections you need, the fault lies with you, not me. However, I can attempt to arrange a marriage for you in the north. I am sure there are several eligible men in need of a wife with a sizeable dowry. Shall I do so?"

"Of course not!"

"Do you plan to set up your own establishment?"

"No, I will live with the Hursts. Why can we not live here?"

"I plan to buy a house in York and will need the funds from selling this house. Unless the Hursts plan to buy it, they will have to find other accommodations. I plan to move to York by the the start of the new year. The house will be sold as soon as possible thereafter. I suggest you start making arrangements."

Bingley paused for a few minutes and added, "You may dispose of the furniture in your rooms as you wish, I will be making arrangements to have the rest carted to York when I return to London."

"You are leaving?"

"Yes, I leave for York in two days. I will keep you informed of my plans and expect to return at the start of the new year."

Caroline continued to press Bingley to change his mind with a repetition of those arguments which had already proved unsuccessful. After about half an hour she resorted to tears, sobbing onto Louisa's shoulder who looked reproachfully at Bingley.

Bingley stood and stated "And yet I am unmoved. Good-night." And as he moved up to his rooms, his immediate thought was "My, that felt good. For once Caroline did not get her own way."

Chapter 6

Monday, September 28, 1812 - Longbourn
Hearing light footsteps in the hall, Mr. Bennet was unsurprised when Elizabeth entered the dining room. She gave a quick smile as she moved to the side and made up a plate of sausages, toast, and eggs. Placing that in the seat next to her father she returned for a cup of tea and settled down to eat. he gave her a small smile and asked "A good morning for a walk?"

"It was perfect and the rest of the day should be lovely."

"What are your plans for today?"

"Hill and I have to go over the house accounts after breakfast. Kitty will be helping me. Then she and I were planning to visit a couple of tenants. We have a charity basket for the Haddons and want to look in on Mrs. Mills who is with child."

"I gather then that Jane and Kitty will be dancing attendance on your mother."

Elizabeth struggled to control a slight frown at this comment. She was finding ever harder to accept her father's disrespect for her mother even as she recognized the truth behind the words.

She quietly replied, "Jane and I agree that it is best if she handle Mama since I seem to excite her nerves a great deal. I admit I find it difficult to be as patient as I should."

Her father simply shook his head as he got up from the table, refilled his cup with coffee and made his way to his library. If he noticed her displeasure, Elizabeth could not detect that from his demeanour. As Elizabeth was leaving the room a few minutes later, her sisters entered and prepared to break their fast. She nodded at Kitty and said, "I will be sitting down with Hill in about a quarter hour in the kitchen. I shall see you then."

Their Aunt Phillips visited that afternoon and obviously had important news for their mother and it was obviously too good not to share as widely as possible. On her way upstairs, she saw no reason not to impart it to Elizabeth, Jane and Kitty who had gathered in the drawing room. According to Mrs. Phillips, Mr. Bingley had given up the Netherfield lease and new owners were being sought.

Elizabeth glanced quickly at Jane but, apart from a small look of dismay, Jane's countenance was quickly schooled to its usual serenity. Anticipating her mother's lamentations, Elizabeth quickly suggested a walk in the garden, a suggestion with which her sisters were happy to comply. As they walked, Jane rebuffed all efforts by Elizabeth to discuss the news, saying only "Lizzy, I cannot talk of this now. Perhaps later tonight." With this Elizabeth had to be content.

Over dinner, their mother's profusions were much as in the past, decrying Mr. Bingley's unworthiness for having treated them all so badly, saying that he had used Jane very ill indeed and lamenting the loss of a suitor with five thousand a year. Jane bore the complaints with no obvious distress.

Later that night as she and Elizabeth prepared for bed, Jane sat on the bed and stated "Lizzy, you must believe me. I have quite given Mr. Bingley up. I still think he was one of the handsomest and most amiable man I have known but obviously his affection for me did not equal to mine for him."

Jane paused and then, looking at the floor, said with some reluctance, "Lizzy, I have a confession. When you were travelling with our aunt and uncle, I had cause to get something from your dresser. I saw the letter from Mr. Darcy and, to my shame, I read it. I know that you hid Mr. Darcy's involvement in convincing Mr. Bingley not to return. I understand why and ask your forgiveness for intruding on your privacy."

Elizabeth could not hide her dismay and embarrassment. Nonetheless she was not unhappy to have this secret revealed and replied "my forgiveness is easily granted. I am happy that I no longer have to hide it. Did knowing of the involvement of Mr. Darcy have anything to do with your change of opinion about Mr. Bingley?"

Jane was slow to answer. "Possibly, I am not sure. I know that I was most disappointed in Mr. Bingley's lack of resolve. I can understand Mr. Darcy being unable to comprehend my feelings, but that Mr. Bingley would do so also is harder for me to accept. It seems to me now that either he lacks resolve or his attentions were not truly serious. In either case, I have to believe he is not the type of man who would make a good husband. I have resolved from this that, in future and should the opportunity arise, I shall make every effort to make my preferences known to an eligible suitor. I have to believe that Charlotte may have been correct and, while I cannot and will not display affections that I do not feel, I do think, should the right man seek to court me, that he be left in no doubt as to my regard."

Elizabeth's face gradually assumed a pensive look and Jane asked, "What are you thinking?"

"I am thinking that the two most amiable men we have met this past year - Wickham and Mr. Bingley - are possibly the least suitable candidates for husbands. Funny, is it not, that the dour Mr. Darcy may be the best of husbands. What value then is amiability?"

Jane laughed "Shall we then look for husbands only amongst men who are disagreeable or reserved?"

Elizabeth chuckled "Perhaps we should. And, if you need to make your preferences known to a suitor, you should take lessons from Miss Bingley. She certainly was not inclined to hide her preferences."

Their giggles lured Kitty and Mary into the room and as the teasing continued, the laughter increased in volume such that Mr. Bennet had cause to request peace and quiet, which was granted reluctantly by all participants.

September 28, 1812 - Darcy House, London
Darcy sat alone in his study, reading for the third time a letter received in today's post.

Fitzwilliam Darcy,

Greetings from one I know you would rather forget all about. As I sure you probably will guess, my situation is rather poor at the moment. I have had to leave the ____ Militia under adverse circumstances and while my immediate prospects are not dire, my long term prospects are quite poor. I am sure you are sadly disappointed and surprised to hear as much. Ha!

I know that I have trespassed on your charity quite frequently in the past but want, nay need, to do so once more - I expect for the very last time. You see, I fear my presence in this country is becoming quite uncomfortable. Indeed, there seem to be numerous gentlemen, of one ilk or the other, who desire to be uncomfortably, for me, severe with me. I would like to avoid such an eventuality if possible. Hence my suggestion.

I wish to depart this country for the new world, specifically the rebel colonies. I believe they call themselves the United States of America. Presumptuous bastards! I should feel right at home.

Unfortunately I lack the means to pay my passage or to support myself there until I can find a suitable situation. If you can provide me with passage money and £2,000, I will commit to remaining there for the rest of my days. You will be assured that, by doing so, George Wickham will no longer be a threat to you and your family. I think your father would be pleased if you complied with my request.

Yours,
George Wickham

P.S. Please respond to me in care of Mrs. Younge, Edwards Street.

Darcy scarce knew how to respond. Despite his disgust and anger with Wickham, he still felt some vestige of responsibility due to his father's regard for his godson. As well,the thought of removing Wickham as threat to Georgiana was attractive. He needed advice.

He quickly wrote a brief to note to his cousin and summoned Hodgkins, his butler. "Please have this delivered immediately to Colonel Fitzwilliam. I believe he is staying at ______ House at the moment. Have the man wait for a reply. Thank you."

After Hodgkins left the room, Darcy began to consider how he might deal with this opportunity. First, he was definitely not giving Wickham another £2,000 - he would need some funds but not that much since it would likely be gamble away before the boat docked. No, any funds would have to be released when he arrived. Second, hostilities with the rebel colonies would make a voyage there quite difficult. Could he travel to the British colonies first and take passage from there? He thought his cousin might have a suggestion.

He would also need to have some assurances that Wickham would not return. He had bought some debts from Lambton. Perhaps he could acquire those he undoubtably left behind in Hertfordshire. Was his regiment still based there? Richard should be able to find out. The threat of debtor's prison should dissuade Wickham from returning. As well, he apparently deserted the militia. Again Richard would know of possible charges.

Finally, he probably needed some contact in the new world to handle the transfer of funds and arrange passage from the British to the rebel colonies. He must talk to his solicitor on this also.

As disagreeable as it was, Darcy mused on his past with Wickham while awaiting word from his cousin. Hodgkins appeared an hour later and passed a note to Darcy which informed him that Fitzwilliam was not free until about eight in the evening.

At eight that evening his cousin knocked, showed himself into the study, headed to the sideboard for a brandy, took a sip and asked "What has Wickham done now?"

Darcy smiled and said "His final, I hope, piece of effrontery." And he passed Fitzwilliam the letter. His cousin read it once and then again before turning to Darcy saying quite firmly "I hope you do not plan to reply to this! The man is an out-and-out scoundrel."

Darcy shook his head and said quite deliberately "I admit that was my first reaction also. But stop and think, Richard, we might remove him as a threat to Georgiana once and for all. And, I am inclined to help him for the last time because of my father."

"You are mad. I would let him stew in the stews of London. He could be a corpse before the year is out. I doubt he has any true friends left anywhere."

"I fully comprehend your feelings but I am inclined to one last bit of charity." Darcy replied and then began to describe to Fitzwilliam the plans he had sketched out in his mind while awaiting his arrival.

"Richard, I presume you know the probable penalty for desertion that he faces. If I can hold his debts and a military charge over his head, his should have little desire to return."

"It galls me to help the bastard in any manner at all but if you must deal with him, this is as good an approach as I can see. The answer to your question is rather simple. He will face a court-martial and the punishment transportation - to Australia."

Darcy nodded in acknowledgement. "I will see my solicitor tomorrow and begin the proceedings. This cannot be done too soon for my happiness."

"By the way Darcy, I realize Bingley's decision to quit Hertfordshire ruined your plans to approach Miss Bennet but have you given further thoughts to alternate tactics?"

"Not really, Richard. I have been rather busy with the harvest at Pemberley and since I was unable to effect a reconciliation between Bingley and her older sister, I doubt I would be received very favourably were I to call on her. In truth, my feelings have changed little and I fear that hers are also the same."

"She might be visiting her friend in Hunsford again next spring."

"Perhaps, although I would not expect her to want to visit Mrs. Collins at a time when she could expect that I would likely be visiting my aunt. Anyway, enough of this. Care for a game or two of billiards? I instructed Hodgkins to put a fresh bottle of brandy in the room and I need to win my guineas back from you. Honour demands it!"

"Just a final word about Miss Elizabeth. I do hope that you have not relinquished all hope of introducing yourself to her again. I know you have been greatly saddened by her refusal and I hope you know that you have my sympathy. As I said before, she is worth the winning and at some point, I think you should simply visit Hertfordshire and attempt to court her. Show her that you have taken her charges against to heart. Now enough about the lady, I have been practicing, Darcy and, as our aunt would say, I have become a true proficient!" With which the two men moved to the billiard room and a comfortable evening of billiards.

Chapter 7

September 30 - Dark Horse Inn, London
George Wickham leaned his chair back against the and let his gaze wander out the grimy window of their second floor room. His thoughts were totally fixed on the prospects rendered possible by the letter that lay on the table beside him. If he gave any thought to the young girl dozing on the room's bed, it was only as a small temporary impediment to the fulfillment of those prospects. Truthfully he thought very little of her at all. She kept his bed warm, provided some pleasure although even that was starting to pall given the inanity of her conversation and her whining. He considered the letter once more,

George Wickham,

I am prepared to assist you once more and for the last time. I will engage to the following: arrange and fund your passage to Halifax and hence to Boston in the United States; arrange for £900 to be released to you in Boston; provide you with £50 when you board ship to Halifax and an additional £50 when you board ship for Boston. Such funds are to cover your living expense in Halifax and Boston as necessary. I have every confidence that you will gamble these funds away but be that on your head.

I require from you only a list of your creditors in Meryton and such other locations as you have resided since we met in Meryton. This is to be sent to me directly. I await this list and your acceptance to make the arrangements necessary.

Fitzwilliam Darcy

Wickham seated the chair firmly and, selecting a piece of paper, began to list the tradesmen that he believed he owed funds. Getting up from his chair, he opened his trunk and, sifting through the various papers, found those that were dunning him for payment. His movements had caused his roommate to wake. Hearing her stir, he quickly folded Darcy's note and put it in his trunk. All too soon he heard her voice,

"What are you writing Georgie?"

"A note to Darcy, my love."

"Mr. Darcy, why?"

"Darcy will be helping us. He has agreed to give me that living I was promised by his father. I am making arrangements now for us to move there in a couple of days."

A squeal of delight issued from Lydia Bennet. Her first words were, "We shall be married then. Can we be married in Longbourn? We will have a special licence! Oh, I need wedding clothes. I must write mama. She will be overjoyed. Imagine, I will be the first to be married. What fun!"

"Gently my dear, gently. We will be married by special licence but it will have to be in Derbyshire and quite soon. We will not have time for wedding clothes before the wedding but you and your mother can arrange that afterwards, I am sure. I think it best to write to your family once we have arrived at our new home."

Lydia walked over to stand behind Wickham and leaned against his back. He could feel her breasts against his shoulders and her hands running down his chest. His hand moved around her waist and he pulled her into his lap. His hand stroked her thigh and moving up her over her hip, squeezed her breast firmly. Her head fell to his shoulder and she squirmed on his lap causing him to become quite uncomfortable. He abruptly moved his hand under her knees and stood with her in his arms. Moving to the bed, he dumped her in the middle and then grinned at her, saying, "Patience, my love, patience. I will tend to your needs when I have finished my letters."

Ignoring her complaints, Wickham completed his list and wrote a note to Darcy accepting the terms. Lydia looked at him with anticipation but he shook his head.

"Not just yet, my love. I must post these immediately. I shall not be long and we have all night, do we not?"

Ignoring her pout, he was out the door quickly. He had arrangements to make and they were not such as he wanted Lydia to know.

October 7, 1812 - London
It was early in the morning when the hackney coach came to a stop at a side door to a three story building on ____ Street. Telling the driver to wait, Wickham escorted Lydia inside and greeted to proprietress, Mrs. James, who showed them to a room. Looking at Lydia, Wickham gave her a quick kiss and said, "Be patient a bit longer, my love. I must go to arrange our coach to take us to our new home. I will be back in two hours and we will be off. Mrs. James will take good care of you. You should rest now since we have a long drive ahead."

Wickham hurried out the door, paying no attention to Lydia's parting comments. Shutting the door behind him, he turned to Mrs. James and gave a small smile. "Give me a couple of hours before you break the news to her. I think she will do well by you. She is certainly enthusiastic enough though quite unskilled."

"Skill we can teach, enthusiasm....not so much. Good-bye, George. I won't ask to where you are bound."

"Good, I will only say there will be a lot of water between us. Take care, Grace"

With that, Wickham walked out the door and boarded the hackney coach, which, in thirty minutes deposited him at Mrs. Younge's boarding house on Edward Street. When Darcy's coach drove up twenty minutes later, Wickham's small trunk was quickly loaded on top. He entered the coach to find Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam seated across from him.

He was greeted by a cool "Hello George" from Darcy and a scowl from Fitzwilliam. Wickham was too pleased with himself to take offence and greeted them both quite cheerily.

"Darcy, Richard .....what a pleasant surprise. Here to see me off, I presume."

"Here to see you get on the damn boat and the last of you, George." Replied Fitzwilliam. "If I had had my preference, you would be courtmartialed and on your way to Australia."

"Well, we don't always get what we want, now do we, Richard?"

Darcy spoke before Fitzwilliam could do so. In a deceptively mild voice, he said, "Richard is correct in this. We are here to make sure you get on the boat and leave. I have the £50 as agreed and will give you it when you are to board. As well, you should know that I have paid the creditors you listed and, when I include those debts I paid to creditors in Lambdon, the total amounts to nearly £4,000. Enough to put you in debtor's prison for a very long time. As well, Richard has confirmed that an order to arrest you for desertion has been issued. The penalty is transportation to Australia. If I hear of your returning to this country, I will make every effort to find you. Believe me on this, if you believe nothing else. You should never return, George. Never!"

The remainder of the drive to the docks was silent. As they drew up to where the ship was moored, Wickham got out of the coached followed by Darcy and Fitzwilliam. He walked towards the gangplank and, as he took his first step to board the ship, turned to both men and said "A final farewell then. Wish me luck amongst the savages."

Darcy handed him two letters saying, "Here are the names of the men you should contact in Halifax and Boston. And here is the £50 as agreed. Good-bye George."

Wickham received a final nod from Fitzwilliam and continued up the gangplank until lost from sight. Darcy and Fitzwilliam strolled back to their coach, entered but gave no directions to depart. Wickham, from on board the ship, could see the coach waiting. An hour later, as the ship weighed anchor and began to move down the river, he watched the carriage slowly drive off. Inside the coach, Darcy turned to Fitzwilliam and said, "I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. He will not be missed."

At Mrs. James house, Lydia had dozed until about noon when she woke as the door opened. Her cry of "Georgie" was cut short when she saw Mrs. James enter the room caring a small tray with tea and a few biscuits. Mrs. James looked at her and calmly said,

"Not George Wickham, my girl. I have brought you something to eat. I suspect you have not eaten since breakfast. You eat and I will talk."

Placing the tray on the table, she direct Lydia to a seat and placed another opposite her. She watched as Lydia began to eat with enthusiasm. She waited until Lydia had consumed almost all the biscuits and was savouring the tea. Finally she spoke.

"How old are you? Seventeen? Sixteen?"

"Sixteen"

"Are you with child?"

At Lydia's puzzled look, she amended her question. "When did you last have your courses?"

Lydia thought for a moment or two and replied, "About three weeks ago."

"Have you been sick in the mornings?"

"No"

Lydia's puzzlement was obvious and Mrs. James only shook her head at such naivety.

"You are not with child then. Good."

"I do not understand. Where is Georgie? He should be back to get me by now."

"Girl, there are a couple of things that you must accept right now. The first is that George Wickham is not coming back for you. Not now. Not ever. If he promised marriage to you, he was lying. If you expected him to marry you, you are a fool."

Mrs. James leaned back and observed the shock of her blunt words striking the young girl in front of her. Disbelief, anger, fear all chased each other across her face. Tears followed. And as she watched, she could hysteria taking control. She raised her hand and smacked her across the face. The shock silenced Lydia and she stared at the women with wide eyes and an open mouth.

"Be quiet and listen to me. You are a very foolish girl and you have placed yourself in a spot where there are few options open to you. I suggest you listen to me very carefully. I will not be repeating myself. First, do you have relatives in town here?"

"Yes, an aunt and uncle on Gracechurch Street."

"That is quite a distance from here - probably about several hours walk unless you have money for a hackney cab. Do you?"

"I don't think so."

"You will have to decide if your relatives will take you in. Most families will send a girl like you away to distant relatives - out of sight, out of mind. You cannot expect to go back and live with your family as though nothing has happened."

"Young lady, as I see things you have only three choices. The first is to walk out my front door and try to reach your aunt and uncle. You might be successful but I would not be surprised to see you lose your way and spend the night on the street. The second choice is to walk out my front door and try to make your way as best you can. I think you will find very quickly that, if you want to eat, you will have to sell the only thing you own - yourself. The men you encounter will care little for your welfare. They will use you, leave you and give you a pittance. Thieves abound and, if you are lucky, will leave you your life after they take what few coins you have. You will become very quickly intimate with disease and death. Truthfully I suspect that if you are unsuccessful in reaching your relatives, you will land in a similar condition. The third option is to stay here and work for me."

"Work for you?"

"If you have not guessed, this is a brothel. I will feed and house you. In return, you will make yourself available to my customers. You will do for them what you did for Wickham except they will pay me and I will give you a portion. After a couple of years, you might be able to set yourself up as respectable. I will leave you alone for an hour to think. If you are still here when I return, I will assume that you plan to stay."

Mrs. James stood and left the room, leaving Lydia alone once more. When she returned an hour later, the room was empty. Shaking her head, she returned downstairs. She had a business to run.

Lydia's mind was to beset for rationale thought, unfortunately a concept with which she was quite unfamiliar. Accepting that her Georgie had left her, impossible to believe; selling her body, impossible to accept. Her only coherent thought was to reach the Gardiners and have them find George and have them marry. With little further thought, she gather her few possessions and hurried out of the house.

It is not the intent here to discuss those events which subsequently afflicted Lydia Bennet. Suffice it to say she did not reach her relatives on Gracechurch Street and the payment, for her wild and foolish behaviour, was heavy indeed. Mrs. James was, unfortunately, very accurate in her predictions.

Chapter 8

Monday October 19, 1812 - London
Darcy walked up the stairs to the entrance of Colbert House. The entranceway sparkled with lamplight as the crowd slowly worked their way through and into the main hall. His pace was slowed by the crowd and his thoughts began to wander. He knew why he was here and it was not to find a wife, despite what others might think. His love for Elizabeth Bennet had not abated and he could not - would not - replace her with another in his heart.

When he had met Lord Colbert this afternoon, Colbert had invited him to the ball tonight. He was sure that a formal invitation had been received but was probably ignored. Darcy and Colbert had been at Cambridge together and Darcy knew Colbert's circumstances well enough to be certain that there was no ulterior motive behind the invitation, such as an unmarried sister. Not that the absence mattered a great deal since he, Darcy, would still face the usual procession of fathers or mothers or brothers all seeking to introduce a young, marriageable women supposedly accomplished and possessing a respectable dowry.

No, he was not here to find a wife but for another reason altogether. One of Elizabeth's charges against him was his apparent distain for those whose social status he considered inferior and a reluctance to engage with strangers. He, recognizing the truth of her criticism, was attempting to show more civility to strangers or in Elizabeth's words - to take an illustration of their character before deciding they were someone with whom he might want to establish a connection. He recognized that, in the past, he had invariably acted with propriety but all too often his behaviour had lacked civility. He thought he had made some progress recently but it was a constant struggle to not fall back into old, ingrained habits.

He handed his cloak , gloves and hat to a footman and walked through the door and into the glittering throng ahead. Already he could see a few heads tracking his progress and felt his face settle into the mask he wore on such occasions - the Darcy Glower as Fitzwilliam called it. He laughed quietly at the thought and could feel his face muscles relax. That was the trick! If he could think of something amusing, he could assume a less threatening countenance. Surely there would be no shortage of amusement tonight. Elizabeth would see it everywhere if she were here tonight.

Sighting Colbert's familiar face off to his left, he began to work his way in that direction.

"Colbert, I decided to accept your invitation and here I am. A bit of a crush, is it not?"

"Ah Darcy, glad you decided to come. Planning to dance tonight?" Colbert joked. "Fortunately for you all my sisters are married."

Darcy smiled slightly "That is why I came. I knew you did not have a sister whose toes I would be injure if obliged to dance."

The two men continued to talk for a few more minutes before Colbert was claimed by his betrothed. His parting words were "Look out, the wolves have been circling and are now prepared to attack."

"I know, I have been watching them." Darcy's grimace only caused the other man to laugh as he walked away.

Darcy began to slowly circulate through the crowd, attempting to stay relaxed, looking for the occasional amusing scene and pausing every so often near a group of men who appeared to be engaged in an enjoyable and interesting conversation. Surprisingly he did encounter two such groups during his wanderings and was, in both cases, able to introduce himself into the discussion. He was inevitably importuned during his wanderings by hopeful fathers and mothers and obliged several young ladies who seemed capable of carrying on an interesting conversation. Unfortunately, in each case, the young lady was reluctant to stray beyond the banalities. Questions about the theatre or books elicited the most trivial and circumspect responses. If there was a functioning intelligence underneath the lovely façade, it was most carefully repressed. It was disappointing but not unexpected. After each dance he returned his partner to her parents, smiled and moved on.

In the course of his wanderings he frequently recall his one dance with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Such a combination of pleasure and pain and happiness and anger. His conduct he could only view with abhorrence. So much pride and aarrogance. Would it have taken a great deal on his part to have explained even a small part of Wickham's infamy? Could he not have canvassed the opinion Miss Elizabeth Bennet as to the feelings of her beloved sister? He could only remind himself that recriminations were useless now.

When it came time for supper, he noticed an empty place beside a gentleman he had observed in one of the more interesting discussions. The man dressed, spoke and behaved in a most gentlemanly manner and although rather quiet, he was not reluctant to contribute to the conversation. Darcy introduced himself; and, mentioned that he had observed him in one of the conversations he attended. He learned that the man's name was Cyril Johnson and that he was a cloth manufacturer. Darcy was quite surprised, although he tried to hide it, Darcy's reaction did not escape Mr. Johnson's notice. He smiled slightly obviously expecting Darcy to withdraw from a discussion with someone from 'trade'. Johnson himself was surprised when Darcy continued the discussion and for the next half hour the two men continued to discuss the changes that were beginning to occur in cloth manufacture, the danger of the Luddite movement and other areas of mutual interest. During their conversation Darcy could see that Johnson's attention was occasionally diverted to the woman sitting on his other side with whom he spoke quietly.

As Darcy made to rise from the table, Johnson also rose as did the women. Turning to Darcy, he asked "Mr. Darcy may I presume to introduce my wife to your acquaintance?"

"I would be very pleased to make her acquaintance."

"Mr. Darcy, may I introduce my wife Amelia Johnson, Amelia this Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Derbyshire with whom I have had a most interesting discussion tonight."

Mrs. Johnson curtsied saying "I am most pleased to make your acquaintance Mr. Darcy."

Darcy bowed and with a small smile, replied "Mrs. Johnson, the pleasure is mine. I apologize for taking so much of your husband's attention tonight. It was really quite ill-mannered of me."

"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of my husband, Mr. Darcy. I could see he was quite engaged in your talks and truly it was a pleasure to see his enjoyment." She laughed at her husband "He is a reluctant participant at balls and does so to please me because I enjoy them so."

Darcy could see the obvious affection between the couple and was content to continue to talk with them as they returned to the ball room. They discussed the theatre and plays that each had attended and certain art and museum exhibitions. The more they talked, the more impressed Darcy was by the Johnsons who were quite genteel, intelligent and sensible. This was a connection he was loath to lose and so he asked, "I am very pleased to have made your acquaintance and was wondering whether you could come to tea Wednesday or Thursday next, at your convenience."

He could see both were very surprised at the invitation and Mr. Johnson looked at his wife and said, "I believe we have no prior commitments on Wednesday." At her slight nod, he continued, "We would be most pleased to accept your invitation."

They agreed upon a time for the visit, after which the parties separated, Darcy to return home and Mr. Johnson to escort his wife to the dance floor. Both parties were equally pleased with the outcome of the evening. Both had acquired a new and pleasant acquaintance and one that was from a social sphere to which each wished to establish a connection. Darcy had the additional pleasure of seeing success from his efforts to make himself worthy of a woman such as Elizabeth Bennet.

Thursday, November 12, 1812 - Longbourn, Hertfordshire

Elizabeth could tell her Aunt Phillips had momentous news of some sort just by the way her hand was waving the handkerchief. The last time she had seen it move that spasmodically, Mrs. Phillips had chanced upon Lydia kissing Lieutenant Denny in the Phillips garden.

"Lizzy you will never guess! Oh, what news. Wait till your mother hears. Netherfield has been let. "

Elizabeth was not altogether sure why this was worthy of such excitement but she did follow her aunt into the drawing room to visit her mother. Mrs. Bennet's immediate thought was to inquire with great excitement whether Mr. Bingley was taking the lease. Upon learning that it was not Mr. Bingley but a Mr. Thompson who was to be the new tenant, she asked the most important question. Was he married? Upon learning that he was, in fact, a man of more than 50 years with a wife (most unfortunate indeed), her interest subsided until she thought of the next important question. Did he have any unmarried sons? Mrs. Phillips could only Impart that that he was thought to have several sons plus a daughter. The marital status of his children she did not know.

Mr. Thompson was to take up residence at the beginning of December. He apparently was a wealthy London merchant and was planning to take up permanent residence in Netherfield. Mrs. Phillips could provide no additional information about the Thompsons but Mr. Phillips intended to write their brother, Mr. Gardiner, in the hope that he could provide more knowledge of the newcomer.

As Elizabeth watched this discussion take place, she was struck by how subdued her mother was in manner and voice. She could see the lack of society was wearing on her greatly. Her company limited to her sister and occasionally, Lady Lucas who, she suspected, only visited because of the connection to their cousin, Mr. Collins. That Lady Lucas also had cause to gloat because it was not one of her daughters that had been ruined, neither Elizabeth nor Mrs. Bennet doubted. No one was receiving her calls, neither were any of her daughters being courted or even called upon.

Mrs Bennet was not of a temperament to be satisfied with her own company; her favourite daughter was still missing and, even if found, could not be admitted back into the family. She had no interest in books or magazines unless they were to do with fashion and dresses; and what was the point of new gowns if there was no opportunity for her daughters to display them. Without company, dining became a mere family event and of little interest. If her nerves were somewhat less frazzled, she still found ample cause to be unhappy at the way she was treated by one and all. No one apparently had any sympathy for her. While Elizabeth was the main recipient of the complaints, even Jane, who hitherto had been spared much of her mother's criticism, could not escape her attention. The loss of Mr. Bingley , the lack of suitors and even Jane's serenity seemed to frazzle Mrs. Bennet's nerves. A married Mr. Thompson was no replacement for a Mr. Bingley with five thousand a year - unless he had unmarried sons.

After listening to her mother's profusions and nervous twitterings for a while, Elizabeth invited Jane to walk towards Netherfield. Getting their bonnets and warmest pelisses, they set off. Elizabeth mentioned the news about Netherfield but since she had few of the particulars, it could not occupy their attention for long. Her main concern was the lack of eligible suitors in their area. She opened the conversation as follows, "Jane there is a matter which is causing me some concern for both of us in particular. I do not know if you have thought about it but it seems to me that, even if Lydia had not eloped, you and I would not make the acquaintance of many eligible suitors. You are now three and twenty and I am one and twenty and the only eligible new suitor we have encountered in the last year was Mr. Bingley and he has left. Have you thought on this?"

Jane slowed her pace almost to a stop and, after thinking about Elizabeth's comment, shook her head saying, "No, I have not. And now that you have mentioned it, I cannot but agree. Even if we were socializing as in the past, I cannot think of anyone who has attracted my interest. Our local society does not admit of any men of marriageable age who would, for us, be desirable suitors. It has been such for several years now. Oh Lizzy, what are we to do?"

"I think we may have to speak to our Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. They will be visiting for Christmas and we must discuss this with them. I do not know if they can help but I can think of no other plan."

They walked on in silence for several minutes until finally Elizabeth said, "it may happen that the new tenant at Netherfield has a marriageable son or even two of them; however, I am not sure that will be of help to us. Would they admit our society I wonder?"

Jane's face had become more pensive as she considered the dilemna that Elizabeth had raised. "If nothing changes, or even if in a year or two, we are admitted back into society, we may be forced to accept a tradesman or farmer in order to secure a husband."

Elizabeth just shook her head and sighed, "Well, as dismal as that sounds, it is probably better than being married to Mr. Collins. I do not have the temperament to live with him and endure the condescension of Lady Catherine DeBourgh. In all truthfulness, Jane, I am not sure but that I would prefer a life as a governess or companion than marriage to a man I could neither respect or esteem. The cost of security can be too high."

Jane and Elizabeth walked on quietly for some minutes, both seemingly lost in thought. Surprisingly it was Jane who broke the silence, "Lizzy, are you as unhappy at home as I?"

Elizabeth gazed at her sister in some astonishment, "Truly Jane, you must have reached the end of your patience to admit to be only unhappy. "

"I weary of our mother's constant complaints. They never change. Mr. Bingley has been gone for a year now and still she mourns his loss. She is now the only one who does so. It no longer pains me to hear his name, instead I find myself becoming cross and irritable. It tries my patience greatly. I know we are duty bound to honour our parents but I am being tried greatly to maintain my decorum in the face of her almost daily admonishments. I now understand how you must feel when she chastizes you for rejecting Mr. Collins. I do not regret the loss of Mr. Bingley, I only regret being reminded of it."

"Jane, Jane. I do not think I have ever heard such from you. "

"Lizzy, I know I should be ashamed of such feelings, but I cannot right now."

"Perhaps I should attend our mother for some time to give you time to repair your feelings. You can handle the household accounts and tenant visits. I am sure, with Kitty's assistance, that I can keep our mother happy for a fortnight. I will almost assuredly need relief myself by then. "

As Longbourn came in sight once more, the sisters could not view their home with any satisfaction or pleasure.