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Chapter 10. Enter the Judge.

Posted on 2010-07-15

May 1818

Fitzwilliam Darcy desperately wished to speak but could not think of a single word to say. How was it possible, he wondered, that he was walking along Brook Street with Miss Elizabeth Bennet? And on her other side was Georgiana, his dearest sister. Even dearer than before, he thought as he watched the normally quiet girl exert herself to chat with Elizabeth about the age and architecture of the various houses they passed, as if they were old acquaintances. And she was coming to his home!

"Ahoy, the Darcys!" Came a loud voice, distinctive by its strength and timbre.

William turned immediately and smiled with pleasure. "Hello, Uncle James."

Elizabeth stood back and watched the two Darcy siblings move to embrace an elderly man with obvious affection. She could not help but be amused by the character whom Mr. Darcy had referred to as "Uncle James."

Though he was as tall as his nephew and resembled him in coloring, the similarity ended there. Where Mr. Darcy was dressed immaculately in a black coat, tan britches and spotless brown leather boots, "Uncle James" looked rather like he had dressed himself from a charity grab bag. His brown wool coat was patched at the elbows and darned at the cuffs but still managed to look tattered, his shirt had not seen an iron in recent memory and, though he did wear what once might have been a cravat, that strip of cloth hung limply about his neck and appeared to have been used more recently as a handkerchief.

Luckily, Elizabeth noticed the object of her study turn to look at her, intelligence and wit sparkling in his eyes, just before Mr. Darcy returned to her side.

"Uncle, allow me to introduce you to our friend, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who is visiting from Hertfordshire."

"Miss Bennet, may I present my uncle, Sir James Darcy. Despite his disreputable appearance, he is a respectable judge at the Old Bailey."

Elizabeth was pleased with the affectionate smile she saw in Darcy's face as he introduced her to his relation. However, her attention was soon taken up by the relation himself.

"William, you know very well that I spend all week in that stuffy old barn, wearing black robes and a powdered wig… a wig in this day and age, I tell you! You have no idea how hot and itchy the things get in summer. So I retain the right to dress as I wish on my days off… and if it is not possible for me to scamper off to the country to do it, then I shall do so here, Society be damned!"

The sternness of his remonstrance was dispelled by the twinkling of his eyes. Seeing that he had made all three young people laugh, Sir James nodded with approval before reaching out to shake Elizabeth's hand.

"Well met, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Always good to find a young lady who still knows how to laugh. We're all born with a sense of humor, you know, but I swear that they school it out of girls these days. Why, the last time I saw these two, they were accompanied by a young lady who looked like she was going to faint at the very sight of me! The only interesting thing about her was her hat--it had an entire, stuffed oriole perched amid some fake leaves. I suppose its orange feathers matched her dress well enough, but it did make it hard to look at her face when those beady black eyes were staring down at you."

Lizzy burst into most unladylike peals of laughter, particularly when Mr. Darcy leaned over and whispered, "Miss Bingley!"

She squeezed the older gentleman's hand. "I've never been particularly fond of taxidermied headgear, myself. I remember once meeting a very grand lady whose very serious advice could not keep my attention away from the stuffed kestrel perched on her head!"

The laughter only increased when Darcy whispered to his relatives, "Lady Catherine!"

Elizabeth's cheeks pinked slightly at being caught out but her sparkling eyes and grin gave full evidence that amusement outweighed her embarrassment. Deciding to alter the direction of the conversation before she said something that she might later regret, Lizzy nodded toward the satchel and binoculars that the older gentleman wore on a leather strap about his neck.

"And you, Sir; have you been out bird-watching? The live variety, I hope?"

Sir James was well pleased that this young lady might know something of his passion. "Indeed I have been. You would be amazed at the number of rare species that pause to rest in Hyde Park before continuing their spring migration northward. I've just been down to the Thames to watch the waterfowl." He turned to grin at his nephew. "Saw a bittern, Botaurus stellaris. The boys are going to be madly jealous!" He referred to members of his birding club, all over fifty years in age.

Sir James turned back to Lizzy. "But it is nothing compared to a good stomp through the countryside. You are from Hertfordshire, I understand?"

Elizabeth's eyes made it clear that she enjoyed her new acquaintance. "Indeed, Sir. My father quite detests town and so I had an idyllic childhood scampering about the countryside." She looked sideways upon hearing a snort coming from the direction of Mr. Darcy but she saw no disapproval in his eyes. Quite the opposite, in fact. Reassured, she teased, "Some might say that I have never grown out of it."

Sir James was nodding. "And take care that you never do. There is nothing better for your health than a brisk ramble through wood and dale; I don't know why these two spend so much time in town when they could be in Derbyshire. But what is this, my dear girl?" He had caught sight of the bloody scrape on Elizabeth's elbow. "Have you been climbing trees and taken a fall?"

"It is nothing, Sir." Elizabeth tried to dismiss her injury but Darcy's attention had been refocused.

"It is not nothing; we must stop dawdling and get you to the house where your injuries can be seen to properly." Suddenly feeling tired and achy, Lizzy nodded without argument, which William took correctly as a sign that she was indeed worse than she had claimed.

He turned to the older gentleman who had caught his nephew's serious tone. "Uncle, would you accompany us to Derwent House? Your assistance would be invaluable in this case and the details would be best discussed in privacy."

"Yes, of course, Wills. Lead on." Turning to his niece, he offered his arm. "And how are you, my dear girl. Found any lost kittens lately?" As a girl, Georgiana had once brought home two bedraggled kittens that she had found starving in the mews. They had been staying with Sir James at the time and though he never missed a chance to tease her, he still had the cats.

Georgiana gladly took his arm, asking after the health of Hansel and Gretel as the pair happily headed toward home.

William stood beside Elizabeth and suddenly all that had passed between them in Kent rushed at him. He was reassured by the amused look she was directing at his relations, but still stopped breathing for a moment when those intelligent eyes turned to meet his own.

He hesitantly offered his arm, a flicker of hope breaking through his certainty that she must still despise him. When Elizabeth shyly tucked her own hand on his arm, he couldn't help but cover it with his right, as though to hold on to it in case she reconsidered her action.

When she peaked up at him from under the brim of her bonnet, he took a deep breath and it seemed like the first one in months. "Shall we?" He asked softly. She gave him a slight smile and they followed Miss Darcy and her uncle. Both felt too much to speak but it was not a wholly uncomfortable silence.

When the foursome reached the grey stone building where the Darcys lived, Elizabeth was leaning heavily on William's arm. Even before he turned his hat and walking stick over to the butler, he began giving orders to see to her comfort. In short order, Georgiana and the housekeeper were taking Elizabeth up to a guest room and a footman was running for the Darcy family doctor.

William's directions were followed immediately with the result that he suddenly found himself standing alone in the foyer of his own house. For just a moment, he shut his eyes. Elizabeth was in his home! Then he squared his shoulders and set about doing what needed to be done.

Sir James had made his way to the library (not unexpectedly) and was found bent over a notebook, updating his birding observations. When his nephew entered, he efficiently sanded the page and turned to face the young man.

"Miss Bennet is a lovely young lady, William. If she had been out when I was a younger man, I might have been tempted to suffer some of Society's idiocies for the gift of her company."

Darcy chuckled. "You would like her father. Mr. Bennet detests London Society and I begin to believe he did right by raising his daughters in the country."

Sir James studied his nephew with a speculative gleam in his eye but turned the subject. "What happened to her this afternoon? You mentioned that you might need my assistance?"

Will nodded and proceeded to explain what he knew about the attack. Within minutes, the older gentleman transformed himself from eccentric ornithologist to formidable magistrate and another footman was sent running for a police detective from the local constabulary. Darcy voiced some concern for Miss Bennet's reputation but his uncle brushed aside his concerns.

"This is not such a crime that would garner the interest of the scandal sheets. In fact, Miss Bennet's name may not even need to be entered into any report." Seeing that his nephew was confused, Sir James explained.

"I am afraid that I have skipped ahead without explaining; I would recommend that you not pursue any charges for the attack itself. Instead, Miss Bennet's discovery of the men is likely to be of great interest to the police and may very well lead to the arrest of several known felons. Last fall there was a sharp increase in petty thievery in the large public parks, particularly Hyde Park. People are at their ease and there are plenty of places for hoodlums to hide so I suppose it is easy pickings for the criminal element. The police were able to deduce that there was a well-organized ring preying on visitors. First, pickpockets (often children) lift wallets, watches, jewelry, and the like. They hand off the takings to go-betweens; we think they may have been women posing as nurses with prams. Those blinds transport the valuables to a location where another would sort through them and arrange for them to be sold out of a back door or melted down."

Sir James watched Darcy sit down heavily on the sofa, clearly stunned. The Judge smiled sardonically. So many of Society's upper crust had no idea of London's underbelly and how closely it brushed up against them.

"The thievery quieted down over the winter but seems to be heating up again with the weather. If I am correct, Miss Bennet may have just stumbled on one of their staging areas. With any luck, they won't bother to move it just because a random young lady interrupted them."

In short order, a policeman arrived at Derwent House; a summons from Sir James Darcy was not something to be taken lightly. After explaining the situation to the inspector, a Mr. Monk, the three men were admitted to Miss Darcy's private sitting room after Miss Bennet had her cuts cleaned and bandaged.

In response to the questioning, Elizabeth was able to give very precise directions to the place where she had interrupted the ruffians. William was able to estimate the height and weight of the two he had fought off and Lizzy had noted a tattoo on one man's hand and a scar on the other's cheek. They were attempting to describe their faces when Georgiana quietly picked up her sketch pad and drew two faces from her own memory, aided by Elizabeth and William's suggestions.

Inspector Monk was extremely pleased. When the three men excused themselves from the ladies and descended to the front door, the detective explained that the descriptions were good enough for him to recognize the two criminals. Both had been too clever to be caught thus far but Monk was already planning how to best watch their hideaway and capture them with the stolen goods in hand.

The police inspector was departing just as the Gardiners' carriage pulled up at the Darcys' front steps. In short order, Mr. Gardiner and his family were shown into the family sitting room. When he had first met Mr. Gardiner in the park, William's focus had been on Elizabeth. Now faced with a fashionable, polite couple whose only resemblance to Mrs. Bennet was in Mr. Gardiner's physiognomy, William was thoroughly ashamed by his former condemnation of Elizabeth's relations.

Though dressed in play clothes appropriate for an afternoon at the park, the children were as well-behaved as any he had seen, standing quietly and responding perfectly to the introductions. The eldest boy was about twelve and he and his sister stood by the younger ones, making sure that curious hands didn't upset any valuable curios. It struck Darcy that this was where the two eldest Miss Bennets had learned their poise and manners. Once again, he mentally kicked himself for his previous prejudice against tradesmen.

After the couple had greeted Mr. Darcy, he turned to make introductions to his uncle. Before he could do so, the gentleman himself stepped forward with a smile.

"Mrs. Gardiner, how excellent to see you and your husband again. It has been too long since we dined together."

Mr. Darcy was surprised. "Uncle, I had not realized that you were already acquainted."

Sir James turned. "'Tis an acquaintance I treasure; this pair hosts some of the most entertaining dinner parties that I have ever had the good fortune of attending!" Seeing his nephew still had questions in his eyes, the judge expanded. "Mrs. Gardiner is the daughter of Sir Edmund Churchill; an excellent man, even if he is a barrister." He grumbled the last but the twinkle in his eye belayed the condemnation.

Mrs. Gardiner responded with a smile. "And Sir Edmund would say much the same of you, Sir, though you are a judge." After a moment of laughter, she continued. "But I must correct you, Sir James. Sir Edmund is my uncle; my mother's brother. The Churchills took me in when my own parents passed away."

At that moment, the Darcy's housekeeper entered and the Gardiners' attention was reclaimed by their niece's well-being. Mrs. Wilkins assured everyone that, aside from a few cuts and bruises, the young lady was well and would join the party soon, just as quickly as a tear in her skirt was mended.

Mrs. Gardiner insisted on being taken to her favorite niece to inspect her with her own eyes. It was quickly arranged that the Gardiners' nurse and manservant would take their children home and then return the carriage to the Darcy house to retrieve the remaining three. Mr. Gardiner waved off Mr. Darcy's offer of his own carriage.

"Thank you for the offer, Sir, but my own driver is quite familiar with running all over town, fetching and carrying for various members of my family. If it isn't transporting my eldest for music lessons or my niece to the museum or reading room, then he is taking wife to a meeting or the shops. John often jokes that he knows London well enough that he should open a hansom cab service."

Thus it was arranged for Mrs. Gardiner to be shown up to Miss Darcy's rooms while Darcy and his uncle summarized to Mr. Gardiner what was being done to bring Elizabeth's attackers to justice. Sir James did much of the talking, easily answering Mr. Gardiner's questions. William sat back and studied the two. It was immediately clear to him that Edward Gardiner was an intelligent, well-educated man with a deep sense of responsibility to his family. The conversation turned to a discussion of the relatively recent establishment of a professional police force and Darcy found himself agreeing with many of the man's well-reasoned opinions.

The three gentlemen were still discussing the ongoing reformation of England's criminal justice system when Miss Darcy and her two guests joined them. After all were reassured that Elizabeth had been examined by the doctor and pronounced "fit as a fiddle," Darcy directed a maid to fetch tea and refreshments for the group. Standing by the door for a moment, he observed the room.

Elizabeth had seated herself by the window while Georgiana was showing Mrs. Gardiner her harp. Darcy's stomach turned to ice when he heard Elizabeth's aunt speak.

"Of course, I recently met your friend, Miss Bingley. She spoke very highly of your musical accomplishments."

By introducing the topic of music, Elizabeth's aunt was able to draw the shy girl into conversation. Mr. Gardiner was deep in a discussion with the Judge, allowing Darcy a moment of privacy with Miss Bennet if he could just wad up the courage to speak to her. If he had any hope of changing her opinion of him, he must begin now. Taking a deep breath, he moved to sit beside the woman who had refused him not two months ago.

"Mrs. Gardiner mentioned Miss Bingley. I am glad to hear that she called, though I fear to ask if she was pleasant… or even polite." Although Mr. Darcy's voice was tense, Elizabeth had finally come to realize that the serious look in his eyes was not condemnation but rather a symptom of his intense but suppressed feelings.

She grimaced slightly but attempted to be delicate. "Miss Bingley was unable to return Jane's call for over a fortnight. I was not present but my sister's letter indicated that she was only able to stop at Gracechurch Street for a brief visit. No doubt she had many other engagements."

Elizabeth had turned slightly away from him and Darcy could tell from the set of her shoulders that she was thinking about the last time that they had discussed Bingley. Desperate, he forced himself to speak again although it felt as if his throat would close up at any moment.

"Please, Miss Bennet. Allow me to explain. Miss Bingley does not speak for myself or my friend. She may regard Georgiana as a close acquaintance but, like me, my sister can barely tolerate her."

William paused and was pleased to see Elizabeth turn back to him. Her eyes were still serious but at least they were considering him. "Charles has been visiting family in Yorkshire; he left before I returned from Kent. I… I did not want to tell him of my errors in a letter. I had hoped that he would return last week, allowing me to explain and apologize in person…" Darcy trailed off, not certain if she would approve or even understand his convoluted explanation. His pain was brief, however.

Elizabeth studied his face before nodding. "I can understand not wanting to entrust such a communication to the post." She paused, thinking carefully before speaking. "Your letter gave me much to ponder. Upon reflection, I found that I could well understand some of your actions. Jane guards her emotions very closely and our mother… does not."

Darcy was about to argue but bit his tongue when Elizabeth made a shushing motion with her hand. "I have not spoken to Jane about what you said regarding your friend, but I hope that you will still speak with Mr. Bingley. She tries to hide it but I can tell that my sister remains heartbroken… and if he feels the same way…"

William could not help but jump in. "Then they must be reunited. I cannot apologize enough for my officious interference. It was the height of arrogance and I will confess it all to Bingley when he returns next week, although I would not blame him if he never speaks to me again."

Elizabeth managed a small smile at his heart-felt words. "I was recently reminded that I myself have had no qualms in turning Jane's head away from admirers that I deemed unworthy of her. She is very trusting…"

The two shared an understanding look before Elizabeth's eyes became worried again. "Is he always so easily led? I worry for my sister…"

Darcy understood her concern immediately. "Charles is a man of great goodness and sense but with a profound personal modesty. He was not deterred from his pursuit of your sister by any of Miss Bingley's comments on your family's wealth or consequence. He was only affected by my comment that I was unsure of Miss Bennet's affections and feared that she might accept his proposal because of her mother's pressure." Seeing Elizabeth wince, he began to apologize again but she interrupted him.

"No, I am well aware that our mother is all too public with her hopes and fears over her daughters' marriage prospects." Elizabeth had been studying her hands and William quelled his desire to take them in his own and reassure her. He was startled when she lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye.

"You must understand, however, that Mama loves us all dearly. She does not express it properly but her fundamental desire is that we all have comfortable homes after my father's death. She knows something of old Mr. Collins' greed and so has come to fear reprisals from his son when it comes to the entail on Longbourn."

If they had been alone in the room or even in an unpopulated corner, William would have dropped to his knees before her and begged forgiveness for causing the pain he saw in her eyes. As it was, he could no longer resist touching her arm in sympathy.

"Please forget those words I spoke. I cannot believe that I actually thought such things, much less spoke them aloud to you. Your mother acts no differently than many other parents, regardless of station, concerned for the welfare of her daughters. I can only hope that my own mother, had she lived, would care so about Georgiana's future. There are so many parents who view their children's marriages solely as avenues to extend their own wealth, connections, and power."

His speech ran down as he noticed that Elizabeth was watching him very intently. After a few moments of silence during which they each searched for answers in the other's eyes, she spoke with a slight smile. "I have had a great deal of difficulty sketching your character, Mr. Darcy. You have puzzled me exceedingly, but I believe that I begin to get a glimmer through the fogs of our previous misunderstandings."

Understanding that she was making a foray into starting again, Darcy could not help but break into a great smile, leaving Elizabeth blinking at dimples that she had never seen before. "I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours, and I hope…" He forced himself to breath. "I sincerely hope that we may meet again so that you may…" He trailed off. He wanted to say that he wished for her to get to know him better, to like him, even to love him, but certainly that was much too forward.

For better or worse, the entrance of a maid with the tea tray gave William an excuse to leave the sentence unfinished. Elizabeth gave him a soft, understanding smile before turning her attention to their hostess.

After the maid placed a plate of biscuits on the table and departed, Georgiana offered the pastries. "Please, try one. Our housekeeper at Pemberley sent along a box with some other things that had to be brought down from Derbyshire. Mrs. Reynolds won't part with the recipe, no matter how we beg."

"And we do beg," added Mr. Darcy. "She claims that it is her best weapon to keep us coming back to Pemberley where we belong." The Darcy siblings smiled at each other and Elizabeth was warmed to see their affection.

"Mrs. Reynolds-- you can't mean that Susie Moore is housekeeper at Pemberley now!"

All eyes turned to Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth's aunt smiled with embarrassment. "Please forgive my outburst--it was just so unexpected. I should explain. I doubt you will remember, but my father was the rector in Lambton until… well, until 1800. I was in London visiting my mother's family when the small pox took my parents and siblings. I've never been back to Derbyshire."

There were some moments of silence as Darcy was reeling with astonishment. "But that would have been…. Reverend Jonathan! And your mother would have been Mrs. Rebecca--she used to spend hours in the music room with Mother!" He squinted and a younger version of Mrs. Gardiner shimmered in his mind. "You are Miss Maddy!" He blurted out.

Mr. Gardiner grinned while Elizabeth and Georgiana were wide-eyed and open-mouthed with astonishment, even more so when Fitzwilliam Darcy spontaneously embraced Madeleine Gardiner in the middle of the drawing room. When they drew back, both were laughing, though Mrs. Gardiner had tears in her eyes and Mr. Darcy's were suspiciously shiny.

"Very impressive, Master Will. You can't have been more than ten when last I saw you. And Miss Darcy, so very grown up. I held you in my arms when you were but a few days old, all big blue eyes and wisps of flaxen hair. Your mother was so very happy to have a baby girl."

Just as Georgiana was thinking of a thousand questions to ask about her mother, Mrs. Gardiner's face was darkening with grief. "Oh, but I am so sorry. I sent a letter of condolence to your father after he wrote about what had happened, but it was so difficult to get any news out of Derbyshire." Seeing the questions on her niece's face, Mrs. Gardiner explained.

"When I was eighteen, my parents arranged for me to spend a few months with my aunt and uncle for a London season." At Mr. Darcy's curious look, she expanded. "My mother's brother--Sir Edmund Churchill and his wife Agnes. I've felt guilty about it for years. There I was, shopping on Bond Street and enjoying all that London had to offer. And then I get a letter from old Mr. Darcy informing me that my parents were dead, along with my little sister and both brothers... and everyone else I knew, it seemed …"

Madeleine Gardiner sniffed into the handkerchief offered by her husband and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders in comfort. Reassured, she continued. "The Churchills took me in. I shall always be grateful to my aunt and uncle, and my cousins. I don't know what I would have done without them--they made me part of their family."

She looked up to Mr. Darcy who was still trying to take in their connection. "I tried to get news, but it seemed as though everyone I knew to write had either passed away or was frantically trying to rebuild their life."

Mrs. Gardiner studied Mr. Darcy where he had settled in a chair just by his sister. She suddenly realized that these two siblings would understand her heartache as not even her husband could, because they had lived through it as well.

The Gardiners and their niece left soon after, but not before extending an invitation to all three Darcys for supper the following week.

Chapter 11. Dinner and a Show.

Posted on 2010-07-22

May 1818

"Sir!"

Fitzwilliam Darcy was brought back to the present by his valet's utterance, only to realize that in the moments that Hawkins had turned his back to brush his master's coat, the gentleman himself had managed to completely mangle the intricate knot in his cravat with his wandering fingers. Will sighed.

"I apologize, Hawkins. My mind wandered."

The older man nodded and, after removing the ruined neck cloth, moved deeper into the dressing room to retrieve a fresh one. He couldn't quite control a "humph." When he returned and set about repairing his master's costume, Darcy forced himself to keep his mind on the present (and hands at his sides).

Feeling the cloth tighten around his neck once again, he objected. "A little looser, Hawkins. The opera house is likely to be overheated and I would prefer not to make a spectacle of myself by fainting from lack of air."

Hawkins said only, "Of course, sir," although his mouth twitched slightly at the image. He kept to himself the observation that he had never seen young Mr. Darcy so fidgety.

The valet had arrived in the dressing room at his regular time to prepare Mr. Darcy for an evening out, only to be struck dumb at the sight of his normally imperturbable master standing before the mirror, attempting to button a waistcoat he had not worn since… Hawkins clicked his tongue, an old habit that he had never been able to break.

To the man who cared for his clothes, Mr. Darcy had never truly come out of mourning for his father's death; even after the official year had ended, the young man had persisted in his wardrobe of black coats and trousers and grey waistcoats. He had recently approved two new coats, one of a fine dark blue and another of forest green wool (the latter with a yellow waist coat), but the valet had not taken it as any particular sign that his master's spirits might finally be rising.

Young Mr. Darcy had never been a flashy dresser, preferring understated styles unlikely to gain comment--he was no follower of Beau Brummel and had no desire to be seen as a dandy. The one area in which William had allowed his valet to explore a bit of individuality had been in his waistcoats. Though never gaudy, he had enjoyed fabrics with intricate patterns of texture or embroidery. However, these had all been put away after his father's death.

To himself, Hawkins had suspected that the young man had seen them as evidence of youthful fancy and put them aside for the black that might make him seem older, wiser. Perhaps better than anyone, the valet understood the pressures and responsibilities that had descended on young Mr. Darcy with his father's unexpectedly early demise.

The waistcoat that Mr. Darcy was, even then, straining to fasten, had been ordered only weeks before his father's death and had never been worn. A deep blue silk with a subtle embroidery picked out with silver and violet threads, Hawkins observed and couldn't suppress a small smile. Mr. Darcy looked like a man readying himself to go courting. The valet stilled his face into its usual mask when he heard his master curse and observed that the gentleman was about to burst a button.

"Allow me, sir."

To say that Darcy jumped was an understatement. Armed with intelligence from his sister that Elizabeth would be wearing a blue gown that evening, he had explored the depths of his own dressing room, too embarrassed to ask his valet if clothes tailored for him at twenty-one would still fit his twenty-seven-year-old frame. He had discovered that the waistcoat could be buttoned if he tightened his stomach muscles and had been contemplating the result in the mirror when his valet spoke.

Instantly realizing how embarrassed his master was to be discovered thus, Hawkins spoke quickly to smooth the awkwardness. "If I may, sir. With a very slight alteration, you would be able to wear that this evening."

Darcy had managed a nod, aware he was blushing, and Hawkins had assisted him in removing the garment. In minutes, William was in his bath and the valet was moving the buttons.

Darcy had shut his eyes and leaned back in his bath for a moment, unable to banish the sight of the straining buttons from his mind. Had he grown… heavy? Certainly he was not as active as he had been in his university days, particularly during the winter when most outdoor sports were impossible in Derbyshire. He could not abide by the corsets that some men had taken to wearing in order to fit the closely tailored clothes currently in style, but might Elizabeth prefer a younger, more svelte figure of a man?

It was probably lucky that Hawkins had entered at that moment and interrupted Darcy who was working himself into a most unaccustomed dither over his physique. As his valet moved him efficiently through shaving and dressing, William had settled into the routine and told himself firmly that there was nothing he could do to improve his appearance before seeing Miss Bennet again.

When Hawkins was satisfied, Darcy retreated to his private sitting room, hoping to have a few minutes to himself. He walked directly to the window and stood with both arms braced against the casement, unable to control a groan when he considered all the things he must remember to do (and not do) that evening. At that moment, a soft giggle alerted him that he was not alone.

He turned quickly and caught sight of his sister curled comfortably in one of the armchairs by the fireplace. "Georgiana."

She giggled again and put aside the book she had been reading while waiting for him. "Oh Wills, I am sorry… I didn't mean to surprise you; I just wanted to see you before you left for the opera."

Darcy pulled the tips of his waistcoat down and fiddled with his cufflinks. "Will I embarrass you, do you think?"

Detecting the note of nervousness lacing his jest, Georgiana studied her brother for a moment. "You look very handsome. I almost wish I could attend with you; Gioachino Rossini may have a reputation for writing too quickly to produce a polished score, but I do enjoy his operas."

Darcy smiled crookedly and sat on the arm of Georgie's chair. "I wish you could come as well. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You heard Elizabeth and her uncle discussing their love of opera and invited them to share your box for the opening of La Donna del Lago. It was a wonderful gesture and they were delighted by the invitation."

"But you know how I despise opening nights. Everyone will be flouncing about, seeing and being seen. Opening nights are for Society's puffery, not for the music."

Georgiana thought for a moment, studying her brother. "Are you embarrassed to be seen with the Gardiners and Miss Bennet?"

"No!" He responded forcefully. "Not at all. I just… I am not comfortable…"

Georgie took her brother's hand and squeezed. "William, I of all people know what it is like to be uncomfortable at such a gathering, but you must try. If you turn into a statue, your guests will think that you do not want to be there… with them."

Will shut his eyes tightly and groaned. "And it will be the Meryton Assembly all over again," he muttered to himself. "Perhaps you might send them a note that I'm ill? They could use the box without me." He was only half joking.

Miss Darcy stood and crossed her arms. "Fitzwilliam Darcy, if you even consider such a thing I will never speak to you again! If you cannot find the strength in yourself… in your love for Elizabeth, then do it for me, for I should dearly like to have her as a sister."

Her brother sighed before standing and making a deep, formal bow to her. "I shall do my best, poppet."

The two embraced for a moment but pulled apart when the clock began to toll. "I must go if I am to pick up the Gardiners on time."

"And Miss Bennet." Georgie took his arm and they descended toward the front door.

"And Miss Bennet," agreed William.

"Just remember, there are at least three other people who also wish to listen to the music, and conveniently, they will be in your own party." She smiled at him, willing all of her own strength to her brother for the evening ahead.

In minutes, Darcy was in his carriage on the way to Gracechurch Street. He appreciated his sister's support but it was good to have a few moments alone to gather his thoughts.

His first meeting with Elizabeth in Hyde Park had been such a surprise that he had not had time to be nervous. He had not been comfortable (nor had she), but even so they had been able to speak about Bingley and her sister. After her departure, he had spent the rest of the evening repeating her every word, every look, over and over in his mind's eye. Georgiana had insisted that Miss Bennet could not help but think of him as a knight in shining armor from now on. He would settle for her no longer believing that he was the black knight.

Mr. Darcy and his sister had called on the Gardiners the very next day. They had spent an extremely pleasant hour with Mrs. Gardiner, exchanging stories about Pemberley and Lambton, but Elizabeth had not appeared until just as the Darcys were preparing to depart. William had turned around at the sound of children's voices in the hall and been struck dumb at the sight of Elizabeth, fresh from the outdoors.

With bright eyes and windblown hair, Elizabeth had blown in like a spring breeze. There had been no concealment in her eyes, only honest pleasure. "Mr. Darcy… and Miss Darcy! I had not realized you were visiting or we should have returned from the park sooner!"

The Gardiners' younger daughter--Amelia, Darcy reminded himself--had remained close by her cousin's skirts. "But Lizzy… you said that you would like to stay in the park forever and live in the big tree!"

William had recognized the mischievous glint in Elizabeth's eye as she bent down by the little girl. "I did indeed, Amelia, but I suppose we might still return home for tea, don't you think?"

There had been a brief conversation about the particularly fine tree house in an old oak at Pemberley. Darcy had promised Amelia that she might sleep there whenever she was in Derbyshire and had received a brilliant smile from Elizabeth that he would treasure for the rest of his life.

They had returned two nights later for a dinner. Although Georgiana was not yet out, he had allowed her to come after being assured that it would be a small party, mostly family. He was glad that he had, not only for his own selfish need of his sister's support, but also to see her shyness melt away under the warm welcome of the Gardiners and Miss Bennet.

Several of Mrs. Gardiner's Churchill cousins had attended as well as a niece who was Georgiana's age. Darcy had been stunned when, after dinner, the two girls had performed an impromptu duet of pianoforte and voice. Usually his sister was too shy to perform for anyone beyond himself and Richard, but here she was performing to a roomful of strangers and laughing at a missed note!

Almost immediately upon his arrival, Mrs. Gardiner's uncle, Sir Edmund Churchill, had entered into a lively discussion with Darcy's own Uncle James on the political implications of Europe's trade with the Americas. When the party was seated for dinner, the discussion expanded to include the entire table and Darcy was struck by how effortlessly Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth guided the conversation and involved everyone. It was easily the most interesting dinner he could remember in years; there was no discussion of fashions or gossip among the ladies and the men did not retreat to talk of horse racing or sport. Instead, William found himself stretching his intellect as he had not done since his university days; he felt like an old clock that had sat on the mantle for years but was finally wound up again and ticking, its works a bit gritty but running smoother every minute.

As they were farewelling their hosts, Darcy had spontaneously reached out to shake Mrs. Gardiner's hand. "Thank you--I do not know when I have spent a more enjoyable evening." He had meant every word and the bright, happy smile that he had received from Elizabeth was an added bonus, making him realize how much his manners had improved in addition to his openness to making new acquaintances from different walks of life. William had not had the opportunity for any private discourse with her, but her ease in helping her aunt host the evening had reinforced his belief that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was in every way suited to be the next Darcy family matriarch.

Darcy desperately hoped that he was not about to destroy any good opinion Elizabeth might have developed over their last few meetings with a single burst of poor behavior. When he attended the theatre alone or with Georgiana, he timed his arrival so that he could slip into his box just as the curtain was rising. His sister was perfectly happy to remain in their box during intermissions so they would talk quietly, sometimes approached by relatives or a close friend but generally safe from the social melee outside.

Tonight, however, he would be arriving well before the curtain went up and, moreover, with a young lady who was most definitely not his sister. He could only hope that Lady Caroline Lamb and Lord Byron might have one of their increasingly public lovers' quarrels, thereby distracting the gossips from the Derbyshire bachelor and his guests.

"Are you embarrassed to be seen with the Gardiners and Miss Bennet?" Georgie's question came back to him and William was struck by the simple truth her words prompted. He was not ashamed of his acquaintance in any way, but he was so accustomed to guarding his privacy that it might appear so to others.

The carriage rolled to a halt just as Darcy was making a resolution. Stepping down to the street, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Tonight, he would escort Elizabeth to the opera and he would make it clear to her and anyone who cared to see how much he admired her. He was done with disguise.

Even as the maid was opening the front door, Darcy was greeted by the sight of a smiling Edward Gardiner. "Mr. Darcy! Excellent, I do appreciate a man who is punctual. The ladies shall join us in just a minute. A clasp on Lizzy's necklace broke and they are just replacing it. Would you care for a drink while we wait?"

Mr. Gardiner's offer went unanswered as Darcy turned, hearing footsteps on the stairs, and was immediately rendered speechless. Only distantly did he hear his host welcoming the ladies back and Mrs. Gardiner answering. All of his senses were focused on Elizabeth, such that he heard the tiniest squeak of the floorboard under her slippers when she came to a halt at the base of the stairs.

Elizabeth had admitted earlier to her aunt that she felt beautiful in her new dress and the look in Mr. Darcy's eyes as they swept over her brought a blush to her face. To William, her pink cheeks and sparkling eyes made her even more beautiful; the periwinkle silk set off her clear blue eyes to perfection and the simple pearl pendant hanging around her neck emphasized the creamy luster of her skin. He couldn't help himself.

Mr. Darcy stepped forward and took Elizabeth's hand, kissing it as he bowed deeply. "Miss Bennet, you are exceptionally beautiful tonight."

It was such a simple compliment but the intensity of his voice made Elizabeth shiver. "I thank you, sir." Their eyes met and for an instant, Darcy forgot his manners and continued to hold her hand.

The spell was broken when a maid approached with the ladies' wraps and soon they were all stepping out into the night. Darcy helped his guests into the carriage and was rewarded with another warm look from Elizabeth. Conversation in the coach was genial as Mrs. Gardiner immediately inquired if he had heard anything about the opera's premiere in Naples the previous fall. This led to a discussion of other performances that they had seen in London and Darcy even found himself admitting that he normally avoided opening nights.

The two Gardiners grinned and Elizabeth grimaced. Her uncle explained. "We took Elizabeth to the premiere of Mozart's Magic Flute for her sixteenth birthday. The music was magnificent, but…"

Elizabeth couldn't help but interrupt, her voice still laced with the irritation she had felt years before. "But the audience! Clapping at the wrong times, peering out of their balconies to watch each other instead of attending to the performance. And not a single original opinion to be heard during the intermissions." She ended with a humph, leaving William with an amusing vision of Elizabeth at sixteen.

"Lizzy." Admonished her aunt with a smile. "That young man was just trying to impress you."

"By insisting that there were no allegories to enlightenment philosophy in Mozart's story?"

"I don't believe that the gentleman understood you were referring to Immanuel Kant's essay. Rather, he thought that you were talking about the new lighting fixtures in the theatre itself."

"Oh," said Elizabeth, clearly embarrassed that she could have so misinterpreted the conversation. However she was soon laughing along with her relatives at the memory and they were joined by Darcy's own deep chuckle. She was still blinking at the handsome sight of his smile when the carriage slowed to a halt.

As the door to the carriage was opened on his side, Mr. Gardiner turned to grin at the others. "Ready to run the gauntlet?" he inquired before stepping out and turning to assist his wife.

Darcy took the moment to shut his eyes and gather his strength, willing himself to be calm. When he opened them, he was faced with the lovely sight of Elizabeth looking at him sympathetically from the opposite bench. Stepping down from the carriage, he turned and offered his hand. She accepted his assistance as if it were the most natural thing in the world to rest her gloved hand on his. Speaking so softly that he had to bend down to hear her, she teased. "Shall we be quite safe here, Mr. Darcy? The crowd is looking somewhat ravenous."

William couldn't help himself. He tucked her hand securely around his arm and squared his shoulders proudly. "Well, shall we give them something to chew on?" And then, London society was gifted with the previously unknown pleasure of Fitzwilliam Darcy's full, dimpled smile.

Many were watching. The wealthy Derbyshire bachelor's tall, handsome form was rarely sighted but much looked for. To see him accompanying a fashionable couple (definitely not of his family!) and escorting a lovely but unknown brunette (definitely not his sister!) was more than enough to set tongues wagging.

Luckily for William, the light pressure of Miss Bennet's hand on his arm was enough for him to feel as though he were walking on clouds. The Gardiners greeted some friends and he found himself listening attentively as Mrs. Gardiner made plans for a charity committee meeting with a Countess who had approached her immediately. When they finished, the elderly lady turned and, after exchanging cheek kisses with Elizabeth, greeted him with a warm smile.

"Fitzwilliam Darcy; I am very glad to see you. You won't remember me but I counted your grandmother as one of my closest friends--a mentor, really. We were not often able to visit in her later years but I still go back and reread her letters when I am feeling low." The elderly lady turned back to Mrs. Gardiner. "Lady Edna was one of the reasons I became so involved in trying to reform the charity hospitals. I've never met anyone with so much energy and drive. Except perhaps this one…" She nodded at Elizabeth, who blushed and studied her toes.

Just then the bell was rung, signaling them to take their seats. William offered his arm to Elizabeth and she took it. They shared a small smile and he was amused to see that she was still embarrassed by the Countess' praise. Neither were aware that behind them, Mrs. Gardiner had paused for a moment when the Countess tapped her on the arm. Gesturing with her fan at the young couple, she whispered, "They would be a superb match--Lady Edna would approve, God rest her soul."

Madeleine Gardiner blinked and farewelled her friend rather automatically. As she took her husband's arm and they followed their host and niece to the stairs, she studied the pair more carefully. Previously, she had assumed that Mr. Darcy had pursued their acquaintance because of her own connection to Lambton and Pemberley. Certainly Miss Darcy and her brother had enjoyed sharing stories of their childhoods and particularly her reminiscences of Lady Anne. However, now that the Countess had pointed it out to her, she easily recognized the admiration young Mr. Darcy held for her niece. And Elizabeth seemed to have overthrown her previous dislike of him.

Knitting her brows, Mrs. Gardiner stepped quickly to catch up. Mr. Gardiner steadied her arm. "What's the rush, my dear? I assume Mr. Darcy shall have enough seats in his box that we do not need to race to claim one."

He was intrigued when his wife turned mischievous eyes to him. "Oh, I simply did not wish to miss any of the performance."

With the ease of a happily married man, Edward guessed that his wife was not referring to the opera but was not quite certain what exactly she was about. He raised his eyebrows inquiringly but she shook her head. "Perhaps later, if you have not yet guessed yourself," she answered smugly.

When the foursome arrived at Mr. Darcy's box, Mrs. Gardiner managed it so that the ladies were seated together, with her husband at her right and Mr. Darcy beside her niece. After retrieving her own opera glasses, she was pleased to see Mr. Darcy offering a pair to Elizabeth.

"Miss Bennet, my sister thought that you might enjoy using these for the evening." He held out a pair of elegant silver binoculars.

Elizabeth took them carefully from his hand, marveling at the intricate engraving. "They are lovely; almost too beautiful to use. Are they Miss Darcy's?"

"They are now, yes. My father gave them to my mother as an anniversary present early in their marriage." He said softly.

Immediately understanding the personal nature of the gesture, Elizabeth traced a tiny vine that had been engraved along the lorgnette handle and inlaid with mother-of-pearl flowers. She was unable to manage more than a soft "thank you" before the conductor called for the audience's attention, but a quick glance up at Mr. Darcy's face suggested that it was enough.

Elizabeth clicked open the glasses and held them to her eyes, though she saw little of the stage. Instead, all her being was aware of the gentleman sitting next to her. She could no longer pretend to be indifferent to Mr. Darcy. She was not certain if she was falling in love with him but she was keenly aware of the slightest movement of his leg, his appealing scent of sandalwood and soap, and the fact that she knew his eyes were upon her even before she glanced at him.

Although she was beginning to recognize that he attracted her, Elizabeth was still bothered by the feeling that she did not know him very well. Resting Mrs. Darcy's opera glasses on her lap, Elizabeth rubbed a finger across an engraved rose and sighed very softly. The opportunity was there (or rather, sitting beside her) if she was willing to swallow the embarrassment of her previous misconceptions of the man.

Elizabeth was never one to let a little discomfort deter her and soon straightened her shoulders, making a decision. She did want to understand Fitzwilliam Darcy better, even if it required teasing him into a conversation. The intermission would be a perfect time to begin.

Meanwhile, Mr. Darcy was having difficulty keeping himself under good regulation. Upon entering the box, he had eased his chair back slightly so that he was hidden in shadow from most of the audience. This position also made it easy to study Elizabeth's profile without notice and he could not resist the temptation, until she turned her head to glance at him. Embarrassed, William sternly took himself to task and focused his eyes on the stage.

It was not easy--her lavender scent tickled his nose with each breath--but Darcy reminded himself sternly that attention paid to the performance now would give him material for conversation later. With that thought, he turned his focus to the singers and found himself drawn into the story with little effort, although he was never unaware of the lady at his side.

The four occupants in Mr. Darcy's box joined in the applause as the Highland warriors departed the stage to prepare for battle. While the Gardiners were speaking to each other, William finally allowed himself to turn and look directly at Elizabeth. He was rewarded with a happy smile that clearly spoke of her enjoyment.

Will reminded himself of his resolution to speak with her, not just stare.

"Are you enjoying the performance?" He asked before mentally kicking himself for such an inane question.

"Oh yes, thank you. I feel as though I have travelled to Scotland!" Elizabeth responded, clapping her hands together.

Buoyed by her obvious pleasure, Darcy surprised even himself with a tease. "Where they all speak in Italian?"

Elizabeth laughed out loud. "And break into song during every conversation!"

The pair stood and turned to the Gardiners, still smiling. "Lizzy?" spoke her aunt. "Your uncle has offered to fight the barbarian hordes and bring us back a cup of punch. Shall you come with me? I saw Mrs. Watson earlier and would like to speak with her, if I can."

Even as Elizabeth was nodding in agreement, Mr. Darcy bowed to Mr. Gardiner. "If you will let me, sir, I would join you in the attempt."

Edward Gardiner grinned and laughingly allowed that he could use such a strong young man as a second in the battle to come.

The intermission crush in the foyer was just a bad as William had expected, but warmed by Elizabeth's smile and buoyed by Mr. Gardiner's running commentary, he was not as bothered by the multitude as he would have been normally. It took many minutes to make it through the crowd but the older man's amusing anecdotes of other crowded performances made the wait fairly easy. Eventually, they arrived at the punch table and each gathered two cups for themselves and the ladies.

Darcy lost track of what Mr. Gardiner said next when, upon turning, he caught sight of a smiling Elizabeth being attended by several gentlemen. He stopped so suddenly that Mr. Gardiner had to do some fancy footwork to avoid spilling wine on his host.

When Elizabeth's uncle had regained control of his stemware, he looked up to see what had caught the younger man's attention.

Darcy started when he heard Mr. Gardiner chuckle. "Like hummingbirds to a particularly lovely flower. Luckily she is quite adept at brushing them off without giving offence. You should see the flutter when we attend with both Elizabeth and Jane. Dark and light, wit and serenity, and neither with a clue as to how beautiful they truly are."

While his host seemed frozen in place, Mr. Gardiner caught a pointed glance from his wife. Smiling, he shouldered forward through the crowd to assume his role as chaperone. However, even as he deflected the overeager attention of a young baronet to his unimpressed niece, he cogitated on Mr. Darcy's recent actions.

Mrs. Gardiner had assured him that the Darcy's eagerness to further their association had been due to their Derbyshire connection and Madeleine's ability to tell stories of Lady Anne in particular. However, Edward had noticed that young Mr. Darcy looked at Lizzy a great deal and his reaction to the crowd of admirers currently surrounding her was not that of an indifferent acquaintance.

At her uncle's remark, William felt as though a last blinder had been ripped from his eyes. Elizabeth Bennet was not just a pretty country miss but a truly beautiful woman, admired wherever she went. It was no wonder that Caroline Bingley had been so instantly and insistently disparaging of the Bennets. Charles had seen what he had not; Jane and Elizabeth had the manners, intelligence, and poise to hold their own in any circle, be it a small country village or London High Society.

As though fate wished to flog him for his previous stupidity, a new voice appeared at his shoulder. "Darcy! It's been too long, old chap. Have you been hiding away in the country again?"

Darcy turned to face the Viscount Hampden. "Trevor, it is good to see you, too." The two shook hands in the manner of old friends who had been close in school but drifted apart in years since. "How have you been? I had heard that your mother was ill. I hope that your appearance here tonight indicates she is recovering?"

"Indeed. We have been in Bath for several months and her strength is gradually coming back to her. I am just in London for a week to attend to some business before returning."

Michael Trevor and Fitzwilliam Darcy were the same age and had attended Eton and Cambridge together. Of equal intelligence but different scholarly interests, both had a deep respect and understanding of the other born of similarity in character and position. While Trevor held a higher rank (and all the duties and obligations that came with his title), Darcy had inherited the greater fortune, larger estate, and all the responsibilities that his name entailed.

Trevor was intrigued by the way Darcy kept glancing back to his party. Normally a man who kept his emotions under good regulation, it was no great leap for the Viscount to guess what had his old friend so distracted.

"So, Darcy… Who is that exquisite creature that accompanied you tonight? If you are so stupid as to not yet have secured her, I would be obliged to secure an introduction…" The frozen look on Darcy's face was enough to make the other man laugh out loud.

"Easy there, old friend. I shall not poach on your territory… but if you wish a bit of help in defending it from those fools, you might introduce me anyway." He nodded at the cluster of gentlemen who were still maneuvering for Elizabeth's attention.

Darcy's stony face eased a bit and he managed a half-smile. Looking down at his shoes, he spoke so quietly that Trevor had to lean in to understand him. "I could use all the help I can get. I have done little enough to please her, and she is no bumblebee, Trevor."

His friend chuckled at William's use of their old code. Once, after an evening of fending off society ladies, the two friends had retired with a bottle of brandy to commiserate over the woes of being a desirable 'catch,' surrounded by women who saw only their wealth and connections but had no interest in the man within. Darcy had likened them to brightly colored bumblebees, constantly buzzing around, trying to suck him dry. Trevor had rejoined that bumblebees had to be brushed aside carefully or they would sting. The nickname had stuck.

With a quick pat on the back, the Viscount nudged his old friend forward. "Well then, introduce me, I beg you. If you have managed to find one lady not assignable to the genus Bombus, then it gives me hope that I might yet discover another for myself!"

The two men shared a grin of understanding and then maneuvered their way through the crowd. They arrived at Elizabeth's side just in time to hear a pompous young Earl speak. "Oh no, Miss Bennet, I assure you. All of Senior Rossini's operas are original stories--he would never steal a plot from this Scott fellow you speak of… It would be plagiarism, after all!"

Darcy fought the urge to laugh at the plump gentleman's error-ridden little speech. Instead, he gained a position for himself in the circle beside Elizabeth by offering her the glass in his hand. "Miss Bennet, your punch."

Elizabeth had never been so glad to see Mr. Darcy as she was at that minute. She only barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at him. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy." She said simply but then nearly dropped her glass when the perennially serious gentleman winked at her before turning to greet the others.

"Lord Cowen, I could not help but overhear your statement on Signore Rossini." Darcy emphasized the proper Italian translation for Mister. "I believe that if you take the time to read Sir Walter Scott's poem, the Lady of the Lake, you will recognize the plot from what we have seen staged tonight. It is quite a common practice for operas; I do not believe that Miss Bennet was accusing the composer of plagiarism but simply commenting on the history of the myth."

The young Earl was instantly reminded of why he had never particularly liked Darcy and, after a few comments meant to cover his retreat, was soon off to find a young lady who would be properly awed by his charms.

When the others had moved on, Darcy turned to Elizabeth with a more serious look although amusement still danced in his eyes. "Miss Bennet, may I introduce someone far more worthy of your attention?" At her nod, he continued. "My friend, Lord Michael Trevor, Viscount Hampden. Trevor, it is my honor to present Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

The young lady turned toward Mr. Darcy's companion and he blinked at the intelligence sparkling in her eyes. "And what makes you more deserving of my attention, Lord Hampden? Are you truly worth more?"

Trevor blinked again and, tossing a pleased look to Darcy, scrambled to keep up with her word play. "Perhaps not worth more intrinsically, Madam, but I believe I have spent more on what matters."

Elizabeth nodded with mock solemnity. "Ah yes. What a man spends in consideration of his worth can only raise his value."

"Except when he concludes himself worth more consideration and abandons his values, perhaps."

"Of course, but one hopes that such revaluation will lead to revelation, not devaluation." With this final sally, Elizabeth was distracted by her aunt appearing at her side.

"Errr… yes." Relieved that he had been let off just when he was coming up dry for a witty rejoinder, Trevor turned to his friend and noticed that Darcy looked like a cat replete from a bowl of cream. With a slight bow, the young Lord gestured his capitulation. "Brilliant," he said softly. "But do try not to burst your buttons over your pride in her."

Although he knew that Trevor was not speaking literally, Darcy couldn't stop himself from sucking in his stomach and checking Hawkin's re-sewn buttons, though he need not have worried.

Before he could respond, Elizabeth turned back and gracefully introduced the Gardiners and Mrs. Emma Watson, who nodded approvingly at the two young gentlemen. The six entered into a lively and insightful discussion of the first half of the opera and even Darcy was surprised when the bell was rung, indicating that the intermission was over.

Trevor excused himself and returned to his own group, though not before saying quite honestly that he would have preferred to remain with Darcy's party. William found himself beside Mr. Gardiner mounting the stairs, trailing behind the ladies as they continued discussing one of Mrs. Watson's charity ideas energetically. He was pleased when they all settled into his box in their original seats. Though it was an effort to keep himself under good regulation, every moment spent at Elizabeth's side seemed a blessing.

Darcy had just drifted into a daydream in which he and Elizabeth were attending the opera as husband and wife when his ankle was tapped by a slipper-covered foot.

"What do you think, Mr. Darcy?" Suddenly William was keenly aware that Mrs. Gardiner was looking at him expectantly, even as Elizabeth's eyes were laughing with mirth.

Rapidly deciding that honesty was the better part of valor, he admitted his inattention. "I apologize, Mrs. Gardiner. I fear I was wool-gathering. What was your question?"

Unlike many of Darcy's acquaintances (and relatives) who would have used his poor manners as either (1) an excuse to take offence, or (2) an opportunity to remonstrate him as if he were still a young boy, the Gardiners simply laughed jovially. "It is no great matter, sir. You are quite as bad as Mr. Bennet for loosing track of conversations!"

Unaccustomed to such easy manners, Darcy was readying himself to apologize more profusely when the curtains began to rise and the orchestra signaled the second act to begin. Elizabeth must have caught sight of the disturbance in his emotions because she leaned over and patted his arm.

"Do not worry yourself, sir. We were merely discussing the difficulties of wounded soldiers and sailors returning from the wars; not only in recovering from their injuries, but finding work for which they are fit. My Aunt wondered if your cousin the Colonel had mentioned anything about it."

William snuck a peak at Mrs. Gardiner and it seemed to him that the lady seemed perfectly unconcerned. Still, he was anxious. "I must apologize again. It was impolite of me not to attend to her conversation."

"Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth said firmly. One glance told him that, were they not in a quiet theatre, her laughter would be ringing like bells. "Truly, you have met my family. Not attending to a conversation is a necessary survival skill in the Bennet household. If one carefully attended each and every word, any sensible person would go insane… or perhaps just become very, very silly."

Partially convinced, William nodded his head slightly. "Still, your aunt and uncle are intelligent, interesting people and I did not mean to be so disrespectful."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and, wanting to put an end to Mr. Darcy's guilt and turn her full attention to the performance which had just recommenced, spoke softly but with absolute certainty. "Mr. Darcy, as you have just noted, my aunt is an intelligent, sensible person. Respect her ability to discern between an intentional slight and an unintentional lapse in manners. They are very different things, as you well know. Now, if we do not turn our full attention to the players, we ourselves will be guilty of the very offence which you seem intent on blaming yourself."

With that, the lady turned to the stage and raised Mrs. Darcy's opera glasses to her eyes. William watched her for some moments before remembering to turn his own forward, though it was some time before he began to regard the performance again.

How was it that this young lady, grown in a small country hamlet with no formal education, could present him with such simple truths that struck him with all the éclat of a proverb? She cut through the superficial and got at the fundamental issue. It was not the flowery words and fine gestures that the Ton were so enamored by that was important, but the underlying intentions, the heart of the matter. Poor manners could be disregarded if the intentions were honest, but pretty words should not be allowed to cover malicious intent. His mind automatically turned to Wickham, but he readily admitted that others of his acquaintance were equally guilty; Miss Bingley, Lady Catherine, even his own Uncle Fitzwilliam would occasionally cover his desire to control his sons and nephew with his offers of "advice."

Darcy was startled when the audience began to applaud at the end of the scene. Sternly, he reminded himself that he could ponder Elizabeth's words at his leisure, when she was not seated beside him and expecting some informed conversation on the opera he was supposed to be watching.

Turning to the lady herself, William caught her studying him with an odd look on her face. Not quite certain what to say, he merely raised his eyebrows in question. Elizabeth laughed softly and coloured slightly, dropping her eyes to her hands.

He dared to lean closer and whisper. "Do I have something on my face that amuses you? Perhaps a bit of spinach between my teeth?"

Elizabeth giggled again and risked a glance up at him. Waving her hand negligently, she noted that the next scene was about to begin, so leaned toward him and spoke softly. "Not at all… I was just thinking that a few months ago I would never have believed that I would be here, in such company, let alone enjoying it so."

She straightened and turned her attention to the play. After staring at her for a few moments longer, Darcy also turned his eyes to the stage though he could not restrain a contented sigh. He felt rather than heard another small giggle at his side.

For the remainder of the evening, Darcy felt a warmth in his breast that was perhaps not completely in keeping with the angst and tragedy of the plot being played out on the stage.

When the performance ended and the audience stood to clap, it was almost a surprise to William that the evening had passed so quickly. As he joined the applause, he couldn't help leaning closer to Miss Bennet and asking. "Did you enjoy it?"

Her shining eyes told him more in a glance than a thousand words. "The music was superb and the soprano playing Elena has a magnificent voice."

He nodded. "I must see if I can find sheet music for my sister; I believe she would enjoy it."

"And you shall be given the great pleasure of hearing her play it."

He actually smiled at that. "Ah, you have discovered my very selfish interest in encouraging my sister to practice so much."

Darcy could tell that Elizabeth was getting ready to tease him when she was distracted by her aunt. Soon the foursome was collecting their coats and ready to brave the crowd exiting the theatre. William was more than happy to offer Elizabeth his arm as they followed Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner down the steps.

After fighting their way through the throng, they stepped out into the cool night air. Mr. Darcy was pleased to see that his carriage had been maneuvered close to the door of the opera house, his staff familiar with their master's dislike of lingering after a performance. William was just about to follow the ladies and Mr. Gardiner into the coach when a high-pitched voice cut across the crowd's murmur with such volume that he could not pretend to have missed it.

"Oh Mister Darcy! Yoo hoo, Mister Darcy!"

Barely stifling a groan, William gave a last longing look toward the dark privacy in his coach before squaring his shoulders and turning back toward the throng. Bustling toward him was an overweight matron in emerald green, eligible daughter trailing in her wake. He stilled his face and gave a very correct bow.

"Mrs. Rockwell."

"Oh, Mr. Darcy… Forgive me for not greeting you earlier; my dear nephew only just mentioned that he had seen you at the intermission!"

William caught a glimpse of Trevor's embarrassed face approaching them.

"Oh, but where are my manners?" The matron's hands were constantly fluttering, patting her hair, brushing her skirts, waving a handkerchief at her face. Darcy had half a mind to grab them and force her to be still for a moment.

"I knew you would wish to meet my daughter…" Like a curtain, feathers and green silk moved aside to display the prize. "Miss Clarissa Rockwell. Clarissa, greet Mr. Darcy, dear."

Like a doll pulled forth by a puppeteer's strings, the young lady stepped forward and curtsied perfectly, though with absolutely no emotion showing on her china doll face.

For once feeling more sorry for the girl than for himself, Darcy bowed correctly to her. "Miss Rockwell." Before either were forced to speak further, Trevor finally broke through he crowd and stepped up to his cousin's elbow.

"Hello again, Darcy. So glad you've had the chance to meet my aunt and cousin."

The two men greeted each other with handshakes, Trevor managing a slight eye roll that Darcy took correctly as an apology for the manners of his relation.

"Michael! You must invite Mr. Darcy to dine with us tomorrow! Surely sir, you will honor us with your presence?"

For once, William was more amused than disgusted. "My God!" he thought to himself. "She is even more forward than Mrs. Bennet!" Luckily, Trevor intervened before he was forced to begin evasive maneuvers.

"Aunt, have you forgotten that I depart for Bath tomorrow morning?"

"Oh, my dear boy. Surely you can stay another day? To do your cousinly duty?" Her arguments took some minutes but the young man was not to be deterred. Darcy recalled that Mrs. Rockwell was several years widowed so it made sense that she would use her nephew's presence in her home to encourage potential suitors to visit and show off her unmarried daughter.

In short order, Trevor brought the argument to a close. "Aunt, Mother expects my return tomorrow and I do not wish to distress her by being tardy just as her health is beginning to return." Mrs. Rockwell was unable to come up with a response for that and he turned to his cousin.

"Clarissa, you are looking chilled. It is not good for you to be standing here in the night air without your wrap--we would not want you to catch cold." The thought of her pretty daughter with a red nose and sniffles was enough to propel the matron into action.

"Oh no, my dearest girl. How silly to have forgotten our wraps! Come along, Clarissa, come along. Farewell, Mr. Darcy! Do call on us soon!"

The daughter's farewell was all that was polite, but Darcy caught a flash of relief in her face as she turned to follow her mother.

The two gentlemen shared an understanding grin. "Sorry, old man. She was off like a Derby winner when she caught sight of you."

"Not to worry. Just keep it in mind if my own relations ever descend upon you thus." Though Trevor assumed he was speaking of his Fitzwilliam kin, Darcy was actually thinking of Mrs. Bennet, fluttering after the Viscount with her unmarried daughters in tow. The vision made him smirk.

The two men shared a handshake. "Let us not become strangers again, Darcy. I shall write you from Bath and I expect a detailed response!" Trevor glanced at the carriage and managed to shut his mouth before any indiscretions popped out. After a few more words, he departed and William climbed into the carriage, breathing a sigh of relief when the door closed.

Mr. Gardiner couldn't help but tease the younger gentleman. "Ah, such a trial to be a single man of large fortune." Darcy rolled his eyes and slumped back into the squabs, prompting the others to laugh as the carriage jerked forward. By the time the horses reached the corner, he had snuck a glance at Elizabeth and, seeing her dancing eyes, joined the laughter with his own deep chuckle.

When Darcy finally climbed the front steps of Derwent House, it was past midnight but he was unsurprised to be met by his sister, looking sleepy but determined.

"Well?"

William smiled, handing his coat and hat to the butler and divesting himself of his gloves before turning back to her. "It was a most enjoyable evening."

With a squeak of pleasure, Georgiana gave her brother a hug before drawing him along toward the family sitting room. "Come and tell me all about it! And I've had the most wonderful idea! Why don't we invite Miss Bennet and the Gardiners for a day trip to Kew Gardens? It is beautiful this time of year and we could have a picnic lunch… and perhaps Uncle James might come as a guide?"

William laughed with pleasure to see his formerly melancholy sister bubbling over with ideas and happily resigned himself that he would not be retiring for another hour or so. He had to admit that the idea of exploring the Royal Botanic Gardens with Elizabeth on his arm was vastly appealing.

Chapter 12. Drunk and Disorderly.

Posted on 2010-07-29

May 1818

The morning after the opera, William woke with the dawn despite his late night. He laid in bed for a few minutes, running his mind over the previous evening's highlights and allowing hope to blossom in his heart. He gave no thought to the previous night's performance; rather, all his focus was on his company. He was fairly sure that Elizabeth had forgiven him and the warm look she had gifted him upon his departure left him with some optimism that she might even come to love him in time.

Will's hope made him restless and he soon left his bed and began his morning ablutions. He was desperate to talk to her; not to propose again (he knew it was too soon for that), but simply to talk with Miss Bennet… to get some sense of where he stood. William was well pleased with Georgiana's suggestion of inviting the Gardiners and their niece for a day trip to Kew Gardens; he rapidly decided that such an invitation was a reasonable excuse to visit them again so soon.

Darcy's late night discussion with his sister had also given him the glimmer of another idea--one which his sister had immediately agreed was brilliant in its conception. He knew that the Gardiners were planning to depart within a fortnight for an abbreviated tour of the northern counties. With his new knowledge of Mrs. Gardiner's connections to Lambton, he planned to invite them to stay at Pemberley. Mrs. Gardiner could reacquaint herself with Lambton and they could check for any artifacts that might remain from her family. And William would be able to show Elizabeth Pemberley, the one place in the world where he felt completely comfortable.

Darcy arrived at Gracechurch Street much too early for a proper call. He was informed by the Gardiners' maid that the family was in the neighborhood park but would return in a half hour or so. Darcy declined an invitation to wait in the parlor and crossed the street to the park. Suddenly bashful over his eagerness to see Elizabeth again, Darcy found a seat on a bench protected from other walkers by a tall hedge and prepared to wait.

Unfortunately, though the hedge provided protection from peaking eyes, it did not shield him from wagging tongues. Almost immediately Darcy recognized the voices of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner coming from the other side of the hedge and soon he suspected that they were seated on a bench that mirrored his own. He was about to move on but couldn't help overhear part of their conversation; what he heard felt like a knife to his heart.

"It is very good to have Lizzy here with us. Her spirits seem to have risen since she first arrived," said Mr. Gardiner's deeper voice.

Mrs. Gardiner replied, "Well, I cannot imagine that being in Kent was very pleasant after enduring that man's proposal. And Longbourn must have been intolerable. Her mother would never let her forget that she turned down such an eligible offer."

"I know my sister loves her girls, but I do wish she would not look at her daughters' marriages with such an eye to her own comfort."

"Jane and Lizzy have too much sense to accept a proposal that is not founded on love and respect. I worry about the other girls, though."

"Yes, I wish Thomas would exert himself to check Lydia and Kitty's manners instead of amusing himself over their performances, as he calls it."

"He seemed different on this last visit. He actually told me that I should appreciate my children while they were still young, that they would grow up far too quickly, particularly the girls."

Darcy forced himself to stand and walk away. He could not bear to hear any more; his heart was already shattered. To think that he had been considering asking Elizabeth for permission to court her! Clearly she had been only tolerating him, just as she ever had. Now, she probably had some misbegotten sense of gratitude for him having come across her at the right time to rescue her in the park. Once again he had completely misread her.

When would he learn? Even if she had absolved him of his actions toward Wickham and Bingley, her dislike remained. Had she not made that absolutely clear on that hideous evening at Hunsford? Was he such a masochist that he desired her to repeat her litany of faults?

It made William physically ill to think that Mrs. Bennet knew all about his proposal and Elizabeth's rejection, for certainly it meant that all of Hertfordshire knew as well. He could not bear to imagine the attention he would have received at Longbourn, had he arrived to ask permission to court the second daughter of the house.

Mr. Darcy was forced to drag his attention to the present when the Gardiners' stable boy appeared before him. After the gentleman made known his desire, the lad was quick about retrieving his horse. Fearing who he might meet if he returned to the front of the house, William rode out through the mews. It was probably lucky that he had ridden an older, well-trained mount that day, for he gave little attention to his direction. When he arrived at his own home on Grosvenor Square, he was surprised, having no memory of the return trip. Will dismounting with little of the grace he normally possessed and handed the reins over to the stable boy with barely a word.

After entering the house, Darcy stood for a moment in the foyer, removing his hat and coat. He knew he should go to his study and work, but he could not face it. He spoke to the butler.

"Holmes, I shall be unavailable for the rest of the day. Please inform my sister that I shall not be able to dine with her this evening."

And with that, Darcy climbed the stairs to his rooms, making a brief detour to the billiards room to collect the decanter of brandy that was kept there. After instructing his valet that the master was not to be disturbed for the remainder of the day, Will proceeded to drink himself into oblivion.

Fitzwilliam Darcy was not a man given to excessive consumption of alcohol; he valued his self-control too much for that. He enjoyed a glass of wine with dinner and the cellars at both Pemberley and Derwent House were well-stocked with an array of fine vintages. Although he disliked cigars and snuff, he would not turn down a good brandy or port after dinner. Though his staid reputation did not include that of teetotaler, he was more likely to be the one who saw his fellows home safely after a night spent indulging.

In truth, Darcy had only been truly drunk once, when he had recently graduated from university and come of age, and it was an experience that he tried assiduously to forget for more reasons than one. Today, however, he locked the door to his rooms and poured himself a brandy before even loosening his cravat. By the time he had removed it along with his coat and boots, he had emptied the glass.

Grabbing the decanter, Darcy settled into one of the comfortable sofas that were arranged before the fire in his private sitting room. Slumping back and stretching his legs out before him, Will took a long sip and welcomed the fuzziness creeping into his mind.

"Foolish idiot," he said to himself.

Raising his eyes, he studied the painting above the mantle. These rooms were wholly his own; he had not seen the need to move into his father's chambers upon the late Mr. Darcy's death as his own apartment was already arranged to his liking. That he had recently been thinking of redecorating the Master's rooms (and the Mistress' chambers that were connected to it) was a painful notion that he crushed as quickly as he could.

The painting was a landscape done in oils. It had been the first piece of art Will had bought himself and though he could not explain why, it had always reassured him. The artist had been traveling through Derbyshire on the way to the Lake District during the summer after William's father had passed away. The young man had presented himself at Pemberley and requested permission to wander the grounds for a few weeks to sketch and paint where he found inspiration. Mired in his own mourning and overwhelmed by estate business and a distraught twelve-year-old sister, Darcy had given his permission without a thought.

On his last day before departing Derbyshire, John Constable had presented himself at Pemberley House again, this time with a beautiful landscape for the master to thank him for his hospitality. Darcy could spend hours studying the painting; its clouds recalling a summer day in Derbyshire and the trees and grass so realistic that he could almost feel the wind blowing through them with the smell of home. He had brought the painting to London so that he might have it to comfort him while he did his duty to maintain the Darcy place in Society.

William had been considering commissioning Constable to paint a landscape of the countryside around Longbourn--perhaps from Oakham Mount-- for Elizabeth, thinking that it might aid her in homesickness for Hertfordshire. When they were married. Something that would never happen. All the pain came crashing down on William again and he covered his eyes with an arm.

Though curious, Georgiana did not worry excessively about her brother until the next morning. She had assumed that he was out for dinner the previous day but when he did not join her for breakfast she questioned the butler more closely. Upon hearing that the Master had in fact been closeted in his rooms for most of the previous day and had not yet risen, she pondered the situation but did not have the courage to confront him.

When it came time for dinner, Miss Darcy sent a note up to her brother's room, asking if he would be joining her. She was dismayed when the butler himself came to her.

"Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy has indicated that he will not be joining you for dinner."

Georgiana's increasing worry overrode her innate shyness. Even with the new closeness the Darcy siblings had shared over these past weeks, she had never probed into her brother's private affairs without his express encouragement.

"Is he going out?"

"No Miss." Holmes cleared his voice but decided that the situation was dire enough to share more details with the Master's sister. "Mr. Darcy has not left his rooms since he returned from a ride yesterday morning."

The young lady wrapped her arms around herself. "Is he ill? Should we have the doctor fetched?"

The butler prevaricated. "The Master does not appear to be in need of a physician."

"Has he eaten?"

Holmes looked decidedly uncomfortable. "His valet sent for a plate of cold meats, cheese, and bread around noon, but it was returned largely untouched." He sighed and could not meet the young lady's eyes. "In truth, Miss Darcy, the only request that the Master himself has made was for another decanter of brandy."

Georgiana could not help stare at the servant for several moments. "Brandy!? Wait, did you say another decanter?"

"Yes, Miss. He took one from the billiards room when he arrived home yesterday."

"And it is empty? And he desired another?" Georgie had never seen her brother drink to excess, unlike some of her other relatives.

"Yes, Miss." For a moment, servant and mistress looked each other in the eye, their concern mirrored.

Georgiana's mind spun. Her first impulse was to send for Richard, but Colonel Fitzwilliam's duties currently had him in Newcastle. She shied away from seeking help of any of their other relations; William would be mortified if they were to know of his behavior and her Uncle Henry might even try to force him to turn over Georgiana's guardianship. For a moment she considered sending for Miss Bennet, but surely her brother's attempt to gain that lady's good opinion would not be aided by her seeing him in such a state.

Miss Darcy squared her thin shoulders and stood. "If the will not come to me, then I shall go to him," she said softly.

The walk to her brother's rooms had never seemed so long. For the first time, Georgiana noticed that the servants were being exceptionally quiet even as they went about their usual duties. When she reached the door to her brother's private sitting room, she paused to gather her courage before tapping her knuckles lightly on the wood. She waited nearly a minute but there was no response. Steadying herself, Georgie knocked harder.

The door was very thick, but she could hear a faint response that sounded like her brother's voice in pitch but not in tone. "Go away! I gave explicit orders that I am to be left alone."

"William? It is I, Georgiana. Please let me in. I am worried about you." She wasn't sure if her voice could be heard through the solid oak door, so she knocked again.

She couldn't hear anything from the inside, but suddenly a door down the hall opened and she recognized her brother's valet.

Hawkins looked as if he were about to say something, but upon recognizing Miss Darcy, he shut his jaw with a snap and retreated through the camouflaged servant's entrance to her brother's dressing room.

After some minutes Hawkins reemerged, looking uncomfortable. "Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy has asked me to inform you that he will be unable to dine with you."

"But I just want to see him for a moment!"

The servant looked even more uncomfortable. "I am sorry, Miss, but Mr. Darcy has made it clear that he desires solitude."

Georgiana turned away and walked quickly to her own rooms before bursting into tears. An hour later, her maid found her curled up in the window seat of her own private sitting room, hugging an old doll and still crying.

An older woman who had served the Darcy family all her life, Penny did her best to comfort the girl. "There, there, Miss. I've sent for some broth and a bit of pudding. Should you like to wash your face? There's fresh, cool water in the basin."

For the most part, Georgiana let her maid mother her without complaint. Soon she found herself in her robe with a clean face, eating Mrs. Davies' delicious chicken broth and eyeing a large wedge of cake.

"Oh, Penny! What am I to do? I've never seen Wills like this," she wailed, bewilderment clear in her expression.

"There, there, Miss. You put it all out of your mind and get a good night's rest. Solving problems is always easier after a good night's sleep." Penny settled into the chair beside Georgiana's bed and hummed quietly. Though Georgie had expected to be up all night with worry, the humming and the familiar soft clicking of Penny's knitting needles soothed her and she slept deeply.

It was almost a surprise to be awakened by morning sun streaming through the windows. For a moment, Georgiana remembered nothing of her worries and simply enjoyed the dawn of what looked to be a lovely spring day.

Penny's appearance brought back the bad memories but she refused to let William's behavior overwhelm her again. Choosing a pretty pink gown that never failed to comfort her, Georgiana dressed carefully before going down to the breakfast room. She was disappointed but not surprised when her brother did not join her. Sipping her tea, she considered her day.

When the butler appeared, she forced herself to speak with authority. "Holmes, I will be busy with my music lesson this morning--I believe that Mr. Alexander will be arriving at half past nine. I would like to have luncheon at noon, and then I may be making a call in the afternoon, if you could have the carriage ready for me at three."

Holmes was nodding attentively but Miss Darcy still had to gather her courage to add her last request.

"If my brother emerges from his rooms, please tell me immediately, regardless of what I am doing."

She was somewhat reassured when the butler gave her a brief smile. "Of course, Miss."

Miss Darcy was a dedicated musician, but that morning she was disappointed when her lesson was not interrupted despite the excellent instruction and interesting new piece she was working through. After Mr. Alexander departed, she continued to play, attempting to focus her angst into a grueling new piece by Mr. Beethoven. She was only partially successful.

That afternoon, after again dining alone, Georgiana decided to mount an offensive. Settling in her own sitting room, she directed her maid to speak to William's valet.

"Tell him that I am hurt, and you will send for my Aunt and Uncle Fitzwilliam if he is not able to come to me. You do not need to tell him how I am hurt, and belay any order he sends to fetch the doctor."

In short order, William appeared at the door in her sitting room, clearly concerned. However, his appearance quelled any guilt she felt over her misdirection. Georgiana had never seen her brother look so disreputable, wearing crumpled clothes and sporting several days' growth of beard.

"Georgie--what has happened? Hawkins said that you were hurt!" He came and sat beside her and Georgiana wrinkled her nose at his smell.

"I am hurt; my heart hurts! You have been shut up in your room for days without a word to me or anyone. What has happened, William? What is wrong?"

Her brother directed a look filled with anger at her unlike she had ever seen before. She only kept going because she also saw a great deal of pain in his eyes. Rising, she stood to take her brother's hand, holding tightly when he tried to shake it loose.

"Please, Brother! Is it me? Have I done something wrong?"

Instantly, Darcy's face changed to embarrassment. "No, Georgie. You have done nothing wrong. You must not worry; it has nothing to do with you."

A bit of frustration edged Miss Darcy's voice. "Then what? Have you lost all our fortune? Shall we be thrown out into the hedgerows without a penny to our name?"

A tiny smile touched William's face for a moment. "No, dearest. Every sovereign is accounted for." Suddenly he looked exhausted.

Georgie tried for a bit of levity. "Well, that is a relief. I might make a living from my music, but I very much doubt you would ever make a good servant."

Darcy merely blinked at her, his intoxication making it difficult to comprehend even a mild tease. Georgie searched her mind for any clue as to what had so devastated her brother. Perhaps…

"I had thought to call on the Gardiners this afternoon. Will you join me? It has been some days since we saw them or Miss Bennet." Her unasked question was answered by the black look that settled on her brother's face.

"NO! No, I shall not be joining you." And with that, he strode from the room without another word to his sister.

It was some time before Penny was able to calm the distraught girl enough that she could sleep, tucked in with a doll she had not slept with for months. The former nurse turned lady's maid descended to the kitchens, clucking her tongue with displeasure.

"I've gotten her to sleep for a bit, poor mite." Penny spoke quietly to the cook and housekeeper. "A bit of beef broth and some new bread when she wakes, Mrs. Davies, if you please. I'm not sure what has so upset the Master, but someone needs to get him straightened out before the young Miss worries herself to death." The older servants spoke a few words in commiseration before turning back to their duties. They were all deeply loyal to the Darcys and such turmoil in the family disturbed the staff greatly.

The next morning, Georgiana rose late from her rumpled bed with grim determination. After a lonely breakfast in her room (she could not face the family breakfast room alone again), she sat down at her writing desk and penned two notes in her clearest script. The first was soon on its way to Gracechurch Street, inviting Miss Elizabeth Bennet to spend the afternoon with her.

The second note was given over to the butler to deliver to her brother immediately upon Elizabeth's arrival at Derwent House. Georgie gave careful instructions that, should her brother refuse to open it, Holmes or Hawkins was to read it aloud to him.

My dear Brother, Miss Elizabeth Bennet will be spending the afternoon with me and I plan to give her a tour of our home. We would both be pleased if you would join us for tea. –Georgiana

Georgie was not certain what response she was hoping to garner from her note. Ideally, William would clean himself up and join them. She had a brief flight of fancy in which she would include her brother's rooms on Elizabeth's tour of the house and that lady would tease Will out of his funk. Georgie was certain that Miss Bennet was fully capable of it, but unsure if her brother would ever forgive his sister for allowing his beloved to see him in such a state.

The messenger soon returned with a note from Gracechurch Street accepting her "kind invitation" and Georgiana was left with several hours to pass before her visitor arrived. She attempted a book on the history of the Roman Empire but soon abandoned it in favor of a lighter book of verse; however neither held her attention for long. She turned to a piece of embroidery that was half finished but succeeded only in stabbing her finger.

Throwing the offending needlework into her basket, Georgiana slumped back in her chair with a most unladylike "humph!" Looking around her room, she was struck with the desire that the Derwent House servants would not be quite so efficient--she had a great craving to straighten, sort, or clean something. For a moment she considered finding the linen closet and refolding the sheets.

It was probably lucky for Mrs. Wilkins' sanity that Miss Darcy's eyes fell upon her own desk and bookshelves at that moment. Instead of joining the scullery maid in the kitchens washing dishes, Georgie spent the remainder of the morning organizing her correspondence and alphabetizing her books. As for many, a tidy house begat a tidy mind, and before she knew it was time to ready herself for her visitor.

Elizabeth arrived promptly, descending from the Gardiner carriage and blowing into the foyer of Derwent House with a gust of May wind. Miss Darcy did her best to focus on her guest and hide her emotional disturbance as they greeted each other, but Elizabeth caught a glance between the young mistress and the butler that led her to intuit that something was not quite right.

The two ladies were just sitting down to tea in the music room when the butler announced Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth easily recognized that her new friend was just as surprised as she was. She watched carefully, but there was no sign that Mr. Bingley viewed Miss Darcy as anything other than the young sister of his good friend.

She did notice that the gentleman was a little thinner and had shadows on his face suggesting a lack of sleep. His eyes seemed to search her face with a desperate intensity that she had never seen in them before, and in a flash of intuition she understood that he was looking for similarities to her sister.

As her two guests were greeting each other, Georgie was thinking furiously. Her ploy to lure William from his rooms with a visit from Miss Elizabeth had not worked and she could not take a single lady into his apartment, however good her intentions. But Mr. Bingley… even in his worst moments, her brother had stressed his intention to confess everything to his friend and surely Mr. Bingley could cheer up anyone short of a corpse.

Mind made up, Georgiana waited for a natural break in the conversation.

"Mr. Bingley, I know that my brother wished to see you immediately upon your return from Yorkshire. However, he is unwell and is forced to remain in his rooms today. It is nothing contagious, I assure you, but would you mind visiting him in his chambers? I know he very much wished to speak with you." Georgie finished in a rush, slightly embarrassed by her prevarication to such a gentle, friendly man.

As she expected, Mr. Bingley was all concern and friendliness. "Of course! I admit that I called hoping to see your brother. Darcy's note left me very curious--hence my appearance on your doorstep just an hour after my return to London. But is he well enough to receive a visitor? I can't imagine Darcy being ill--he always seems immune to whatever fells us lesser mortals."

Georgiana was already leading him to the door where a footman would guide him to her brother's private sitting room. "Oh, your visit will do him a great deal of good. He can tell you all about it." And with that, Charles Bingley was bustled off to visit his friend. It was only after he had departed up the stairs that Georgie realized that Holmes himself was doing the honors. She smiled slightly; her Aunt Eleanor had once told her that the best servants knew what their master or mistress wanted before they knew it themselves.

Georgiana's smile vanished when she turned back to the room and saw the concerned look on Miss Bennet's face. "Mr. Darcy is ill?" Unable to conceal her worry in the face of such honest solicitude, the younger girl burst into tears and was soon guided to a sofa and wrapped in Elizabeth's arms, taking comfort as her back was rubbed and soothing noises made.

"Is this what it would be like to have a sister?" she wondered inconsequently.

Meanwhile, Charles Bingley was having a very odd afternoon. Guided upstairs by the butler, he gave it little thought when the servant tapped on a door that was opened by Hawkins, Mr. Darcy's valet. It was a little strange that the two led him through the Master's dressing room but if Darcy was indeed ill, then perhaps the rooms had been rearranged to suit whatever his needs were.

It was not until Mr. Bingley stepped into his friend's private sitting room that he realized that something was definitely wrong. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Master of Pemberley, owner of half of Derbyshire, nephew of the Earl of Matlock, and head of the illustrious Darcy family, was seated on the floor by a large chest that he appeared to have been pushing to block the hall door. He was dressed only in a shirt and britches and appeared to be growing an impressive set of whiskers.

"Charles?" asked a slurred voice. At that moment, Mr. Bingley noticed the whiskey bottle in his friend's hand. He was too stunned to reply.

"Charles? Is that you? Or perraps I'm to be visited by visions of all the people I've wronged… serves me right… half of England will be here…"

Bingley shook himself. He might never have seen Darcy soused to the eyeballs before but he certainly had experience with friends drowning themselves in a bottle and could recognize a maudlin drunk at fifty paces.

"Hello, Darce. I'm just back from Yorkshire and dropped by. Miss Darcy sent me up. How are you?" He adopted a light tone even as he studied the other man carefully.

"Oh… course she sent you up… I's afraid she'd send HER." Suddenly Darcy looked up from the patch of carpet he had been studying. "But how did you get in? Thought I'd battened down the hatches so's any raiding parties couldn't… couldn't… get in." After waving the half empty whiskey bottle around the room, Darcy peered up at the other man. "Can't let them in, you know. Hurts too much."

Charles didn't know exactly, but he had enough information to be of service to his friend. The first step was to separate the man from the immediate source of his downfall. Keeping his tone friendly and conversational, he bent down on his knee. "Hmmm. Well, I've pulled up the gangplank behind me and Hawkins is guarding it, so I'd say we're safe for a time."

When Darcy grunted and seemed mollified, Charles continued. "Mind if I have a taste of that? I've just spent an hour being henpecked by Caroline; apparently I've wrecked her Season because I wasn't in town to provide an escort." He was pleased when the other man grunted and handed him the bottle.

"Must tell her I won't marry her. I'm not going to marry anyone, but specially not her. Too much orange feathers. Can't be natural." Charles hid his smirk at Darcy's slurred words by rising and carrying the bottle to the side door where he had entered. He was not surprised to find both Hawkins and Holmes standing on the other side. Handing them the bottle, he spoke quietly and then turned back to his unlikely charge.

"Hope you don't mind, Darce; I've asked Hawkins to bring us some food. I'm a tad peckish after the carriage ride this morning. We came straight on from Biggleswade without a stop."

It was odd to find himself in the role of caretaker but Bingley assumed the mantle without much thought. He seated himself on the floor by Darcy and listened to the man's drunken ramblings with only minor contributions until the food arrived. Then he helped his friend to pair of armchairs by the window and encouraged him to eat some sandwiches and drink a large mug of strong tea.

Both men ate quietly. Bingley had been honest in his admission of hunger and Darcy had eaten little in days and found food surprisingly appealing. Finally, William finished his sandwich and leaned back into his armchair, cradling the mug to his chest. His eyes looked a bit clearer and his friend watched him curiously out of the corner of his eye.

When Darcy spoke, his diction was improved but the tone was no less morose. "Charles, you shouldn't be so kind to me. I've ruined your life."

Bingley finished chewing his last bite and swallowed, not quite sure where to start on such a sweeping statement. "Well, that's rather extreme, don't you think? I'm not out on the street or shut up in Newgate prison yet, am I?"

"But Miss Bennet… if you love her as I do, you would not care what your life is like if she is not in it."

Bingley was startled. He had put Miss Elizabeth's presence in Derwent House out of his mind when faced with the ragged state of his friend. He had dallied in Yorkshire, free from sisters and friends, to sort through his feelings for Jane and had returned with a determination to seek her out again. Now here was his closest friend, seemingly declaring that he himself loved Miss Bennet.

"You love Miss Bennet?" was all he could think to utter.

William pressed himself back further into the cushions and covered his eyes with one arm, completely unaware of the confusion he was causing in his friend. "I love her. I think I've loved her since we were all at Netherfield. But what I enjoyed as friendly banter, she took as arguments. She hates me. She hates me, and I cannot help but still love her."

Something was off but Bingley could not quite put his finger on it. Darcy had argued often enough with Miss Elizabeth, but Miss Bennet tended to watch her sister with amusement rather than actively participate in a debate.

"Darcy, are you telling me that you warned me off of Jane so that you could pursue her?" Bingley did not bother to keep the boiling anger out of his tone.

The other gentlemen moved his arm enough to look at Charles, his face wreathed with confusion. "Jane? Jane loves you. Even though she hates me, Elizabeth assured me that you were held in affection."

Bingley was still confused but Darcy's words were giving him a glimmer of hope that he had not felt in months. "Jane loves me? But why would you be discussing it with Miss Elizabeth? And why does Jane hate you?"

"I don't know if Jane hates me, though I suppose she will when she learns I am to blame for her months of heart ache…" William trailed off morosely, unaware of how his sloppy use of pronouns had confused his companion.

Charles had a flash of intuition. "You are in love with Miss Elizabeth!" When his friend uttered a sound close to a groan, he continued. "And she hates you? It was clear that she did not like you much when we were all together in Hertfordshire, but why on Earth would you think she hates you? Why, she is downstairs visiting with your sister at this very instant!"

It was a long, enlightening hour later that Charles Bingley let himself out of Darcy's rooms, leaving the master to be tucked into bed by his faithful valet. For a moment, Charles leaned back against the solid door behind him and closed his eyes. In Hertfordshire, he had guessed that his friend had admired Elizabeth Bennet's sparkling wit and slim figure but had said nothing, having been consumed by his own infatuation with another Bennet sister.

In truth, Charles Bingley had never given matrimony much thought before meeting Jane Bennet. Though Darcy was several years older, Charles had never considered that his friend might be seriously considering taking a wife. The depth of Darcy's emotions for Miss Elizabeth and his subsequent wretchedness after her refusal left Charles stunned. He was determined to help his friend, even as he was determined to help himself now that the truth of Jane's feelings had been revealed.

But how to go about it? His final words to Darcy, voicing a hope that all might yet be set to rights, had been met with total condemnation for his own situation, even as he hoped Bingley and Jane could recover their affection after his terrible deceptions. Charles had chosen to delay that discussion for another time, after his friend had time to rest and recover. To himself, Charles recognized that Darcy had advised him but he himself had made the decision to drop his pursuit of Jane. Or rather, he had made no decision at all; just let himself be drawn along by his sisters and friends.

Charles Bingley's brows knit together in an uncommon expression of thoughtfulness. Darcy had given him advice based on his honest perception of the lady and his desire to protect his friend. Now that he realized that he was in the wrong, he had acted immediately to rectify the matter and was obviously experiencing no little guilt over the matter. Charles could not condemn that. His sister, and perhaps sisters, were a different matter altogether.

Although Charles might be generally absentminded, he had a very clear, precise memory of anything that concerned Jane Bennet. He was absolutely certain that on multiple occasions over the last few months, he had enquired if Caroline had received any correspondence from their Hertfordshire acquaintances in general and from Miss Bennet specifically. Caroline had been emphatically negative and had used this supposed termination of the ladies' friendship as further evidence of Jane's lack of interest in him.

Now he had learned from Darcy that Jane had not only written to Caroline repeatedly but that they had exchanged visits in London, right under his nose. In that instant, Charles Bingley experienced a moment of the purest fury and, if it all turned out as he expected, disgust, with his sister. He would give her a chance to explain herself, but her manipulation of him as part of her own desperate social climbing was at an end.

Deep in thought, Charles did not realize that he had been standing alone in the hall for some minutes until he heard another door click shut, further along in the family wing. Opening his eyes and turning his head, it was somehow completely appropriate to offer a tired grin to Elizabeth Bennet.

She returned his greeting with a similar expression and took his proffered arm as they turned to descend the stairs.

"I have just left Miss Darcy to rest. She has been very worried…" Elizabeth paused, not sure how much to say. Her head was filled after providing a willing shoulder for the younger girl to cry on. The flood that had resulted from just a little compassion had left Elizabeth spent, as well as more appreciative of her own sisters than ever.

"And I have just left Darcy to sleep off his… indisposition." Charles wasn't certain how much Miss Darcy might have told Miss Elizabeth and he wasn't about to reduce his friend's chances of gaining her good opinion by revealing that the man had gotten sloppy drunk after overhearing a few words in the shrubbery.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, the two paused uncertainly for a moment; two guests alone in the hall, having just put their host and hostess to bed after sharing the most intimate of confidences. Mr. Bingley caught her eye and his chuckle over the situation was met with her giggle.

In that instant, having so recently been disillusioned over the intentions of his own sister, Charles Bingley was struck by how much he would enjoy having the woman standing before him as a sister. He made a decision.

"Miss Elizabeth, I should very much like to talk with you for a few minutes. Though we appear to have lost our hosts, Darcy has often urged me to treat Derwent House as my own. Would you consider it very improper if I suggested we share some refreshments before departing to our respective homes?"

Elizabeth smiled, finding that her like of Jane's admirer had not dimmed in the months of his absence. "Yes, Mr. Bingley. I should like that very much, though I shall have to rely on you to direct me; I am afraid that I am quite lost."

"Of course." And with a grin and a flourish, Bingley offered his arm again and led them to a small sitting room, leaving Elizabeth alone for a moment as he consulted with Mr. Holmes. The tray of cakes that appeared within minutes was testament to both the staff's efficiency and the butler's belief that these visitors had brought much needed relief to whatever had been ailing the Master over these last days.

After devouring several biscuits along with a cup of tea, Bingley looked up to see Elizabeth's sparkling eyes laughing at him. He smiled guiltily. "Forgive my manners, Miss Elizabeth. I find that playing Father Confessor is hungry work."

With an ostentatious flourish, Elizabeth filled her own plate equally full before nudging the tray back toward Mr. Bingley. "I quite understand, sir. Having four sisters, myself, I am well aware of the curative powers of a bit of pudding!" After sharing conspiratorial grins, she added, "Have you ever noticed that many of the good clergy portrayed on the stage are given toward plumpness? I have often wondered if shouldering the concerns of so many others must require greater sustenance than the average mortal."

The two shared a chuckle and Bingley helped himself to another biscuit before steering his mind to the discussion he wished to have. After giving up on several possible openings, he put his cup on the table and slouched back in the sofa.

"Miss Elizabeth, I have had a great deal revealed to me today, much of it exceedingly personal in nature. I am no good at subtlety and I rather think that I've seen quite enough of what happens when someone bottles all their feelings up behind a mask."

Elizabeth's features had immediately assumed a more serious cast, but she nodded for him to continue.

Bingley sighed and ran one hand through his hair. "Darcy has told me what occurred between the two of you in Kent, as well as confessing the errors in judgment that led to his advice that I… that Miss Bennet…" He could not quite phrase it, but looked up when he felt a hand on his arm and was reassured by the strained but compassionate smile on Elizabeth's face, so like that of her sister.

Encouraged, he continued in a rush. "I want you to understand that I have felt a force of attraction for your sister that is beyond anything I have ever experienced, from the moment I first saw her. I'd never considered marriage before, you see."

Hearing a sharp intake of breath, Charles looked up and saw that Miss Elizabeth's visage had moved from strained to discomposed. "Forgive me for such honesty; I realize it is totally improper to discuss such things but I beg you… I know I must confess all of my feelings to Miss Bennet and earn her forgiveness, indeed I had come to that conclusion even before I returned from Yorkshire, but… perhaps if you would just hear me out?"

He had such the appearance of a little boy desperate for approval that Elizabeth couldn't help but pat his arm again and laugh slightly. An odd feeling of euphoria enveloped her; a sense that all was soon to be set right.

"Mr. Bingley, I admit that I have always valued honesty over protocol and having listened to Georgiana's worries for the last hour…" She sighed and leaned forward to cup her chin in her hands. "I cannot share any confidences my sister has shared with me, but everything else… it would be a relief, to be truthful."

The two shared an understanding look and Bingley took a moment to organize his thoughts. "Let me start, then. I care for your sister a great deal… I knew that in Hertfordshire, though think I did not realize how much I loved her until we were separated. Last fall, I came to London with every intention of returning to Netherfield within the week. I… I suppose I let my insecurities get the better of me." Seeing that Elizabeth was about to speak, he waved her off.

"Darcy said his piece and that was the end of it, but Caroline had some catty comment every time Hertfordshire or country society was mentioned." He grimaced down at his hands. "I visit my family in Yorkshire every spring, but I admit I was relieved that my sisters chose not to accompany me this year. The time alone… it gave me time to think. To consider what I wanted… What is important to me. And it is certainly not the social climbing that Caro has been using me for."

Charles took a sip of tea, appreciating Elizabeth's ability to listen quietly. "By the time I returned from Yorkshire, I had decided that the only reason to avoid Miss Bennet's company that carried any weight with me was Darcy's concern that she did not show any particular regard for me…. but might be pressured into accepting an offer of marriage because of… family… obligations." He looked apologetically at his companion.

This time Elizabeth could not remain silent. "Mr. Bingley, I assure you, Jane and I have long sworn to each other that neither of us will ever marry without first being assured of the respect and… affection… of our partners. Regardless of what my mother may say, our father supports us in this."

Charles was nodding. "That is exactly what I would have thought of you… of both of you. Jane is so gentle and serene, but there is a strength about her…" He trailed off, his eyes looking off into the distance. When he recalled himself to the present, Elizabeth was smiling warmly at him.

"Mr. Bingley, as I said, I will not betray anyone else's confidences. However, I am comfortable telling you of my own observations. My sister hides her emotions, but she feels very deeply. I can tell you that I have never seen her happier than she was last fall, and I have never seen her lower than after your party departed Netherfield. She took your sister's note commenting on your increasing intimacy with Miss Darcy as a friendly warning."

Mr. Bingley sat up straight, eyes blazing. Elizabeth grimaced apologetically. "I am sorry, but I thought that Miss Bingley might have an alternate motive. However, Jane is far more trusting than I and could not believe that her new friend would tell her anything but the absolute truth." Elizabeth took a deep breath.

"Jane came to London to stay with our uncle and aunt after Christmas. After several notes to Miss Bingley went unanswered, Jane called at Mrs. Hurst's home. Your sisters acted surprised and indicated that none of her notes had been received. They were unable to visit with her for long as Miss Bingley had an appointment that could not be delayed. My sister departed under the impression that her friends would return the call, but it was three weeks until Miss Bingley appeared at Gracechurch Street. From what my aunt has said, it was a very brief, very uncomfortable visit."

Elizabeth stopped herself for a moment, reminded that she was speaking to the lady's brother. However, one look at Charles Bingley's face reassured her that she was doing the right thing. His eyes were focused on her and his face held a grim determination that she had never seen there before. "Please continue, Miss Elizabeth."

Thinking carefully about what she could and could not say, Elizabeth spoke carefully. "My sister wrote to me in Kent after Miss Bingley's call and told me that she considered the connection severed. Since then, she avoids speaking of anything related to the Netherfield party." She stopped. Anything further would have to come from Jane.

"Is your sister still here in London?"

"No, sir. She returned to Hertfordshire in April."

Charles couldn't resist one last question. "And is she receiving any suitors?"

Elizabeth smiled softly at the eager gentleman. "No, sir."

Although Charles would have liked to spend hours quizzing Miss Elizabeth on anything and everything to do with Jane, her mention of Kent had reminded him of his friend's heartbreak. After allowing himself one last vision of Jane smiling at him during their dance at the Netherfield ball, he forced his mind away. Considering his words for a moment, he spoke carefully.

"Miss Elizabeth, as I said earlier, Darcy told me a great deal about what occurred between the two of you in Kent." Seeing his companion's cheeks flush and her eyes drop to her hands, it was Charles' turn to pat her arm reassuringly.

"Please understand, my friend is not in the habit of exposing his personal problems, particularly when they involve someone else, and I shall not speak of it to anyone. He was not… not well… and desperately needed a confidant."

Charles paused for a moment and found that Elizabeth's eyes were focused intently on him. "Sir, you mentioned that Mr. Darcy is unwell, but I still do not understand. Is he ill? I saw him earlier this week when he accompanied my uncle's family to the opera and he seemed in fine health."

Bingley was unsure how to proceed, but the concern in Elizabeth's eyes made him believe that Jane's sister might be well on her way to returning his friend's feelings. "Miss Elizabeth, I will be blunt. My friend has drunk an excessive amount of sprits these last two days, which is something I have never seen him do in the many years of our long friendship. Darcy is always the responsible one; he nurses a glass though the evening and then shepherds the rest of us home safely."

Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hands but when Bingley looked into her eyes he saw concern mixed with embarrassment, not condemnation. This encouraged him enough to continue. "As best as I can tell, he was feeling hopeful that he might be able to improve your opinion of him. Your words in Kent shook him to the core, but also opened his eyes."

"But I was so wrong about so many things, so angry." Elizabeth was clearly anguished and Bingley couldn't help but pat her arm again.

"As I understand it, you were misguided in some of your accusations, but not all. I, for one, am deeply grateful that you enlightened him regarding your sister's feelings!" Pleased to see his companion manage a small smile, Charles continued. "You should know that I have forgiven him for his interference; it was kindly meant, if poorly conceived."

Elizabeth nodded immediately. "I had to consider it for some time after reading his letter but I arrived at the same conclusion." She looked up. "But I had thought he knew that? He informed me that he planned to speak to you the moment you returned from Yorkshire and I agreed that such a communication was best not entrusted to the post…"

Bingley was already agreeing. "Yes, yes. He still feels an inordinate amount of guilt, but I suspect that is the result of having believed he was absolutely correct. He was left with a great many responsibilities when his father died and he takes them very seriously. To find that he was so wrong in his thinking on this matter has left him questioning everything."

Elizabeth shook her head sadly. "I had no idea that my words would be taken so seriously. Oh… that I had never opened my mouth!"

"Don't be; Darcy needed to hear the honest, unvarnished truth from someone he respected. I have been covering for his social gaffs for years because I understand that they are primarily caused by his innate shyness. Your words enlightened him as to how his actions are perceived by others. Until now, he only considered his own discomfort. Darcy is a good, honest man--I do not know of a better one--but his diminished family combined with his position in society leaves him largely isolated from anyone who will take him to task for his faults."

Seeing that Miss Bennet had flushed a deep red, Bingley chuckled. "Truly, your criticisms shook him and he has been making an effort to… how did he put it? 'To practice,' I believe."

Elizabeth smiled slightly at hearing her admonishment from Rosings repeated again, but her emotions were still in turmoil. "I believe that he has. The gentleman that has befriended my aunt and uncle here in London is very different from the one I perceived in Hertfordshire and Kent." She looked up at the man sitting beside her. "I was shocked by how wrong I was about him."

Charles was beginning to understand the odd courtship that had progressed between his friend and the lady before him. There was one last riddle to solve, however. "Darcy seems to have seen your meeting in London as a second chance, an opportunity to redeem himself."

Elizabeth was nodding. "I was surprised he would even acknowledge me after the things I said to him, but he spoke to me and even allowed an introduction to my relations. His manners were so altered."

"You were agreeable to continuing the acquaintance?" Charles asked carefully.

The lady smiled. "I feel as though I am just beginning the acquaintance. I had formed such a false impression of Mr. Darcy so soon after meeting him in Meryton that I had never bothered to get to know him. After Kent, I understood how wrong I had been in sketching his character, but had no hope that I would ever have another chance."

"He is not an easy man to know, but when he does open up to you there is no truer friend."

"I am beginning to see that." Elizabeth's smile vanished. "Which is why I don't understand his current unrest; we have met four times in London and I had thought we parted amicably after each."

Bingley kept himself from breaking into a sunny grin, though his eyes were warm. The lady might not be ready to admit to loving his friend but her concern for his well-being was very real. Charles sensed that all the couple needed to cement their mutual affection was more time in each other's company.

But first, an obstacle must be removed. He wrinkled his brows in thought. "As best as I can understand, Darcy was equally pleased with your renewed association. And he has enjoyed getting to know the Gardiner family--he stressed repeatedly that they were excellent people."

"Then what…."

"From what Darcy said, I gathered that the morning after you all attended the theatre, he wished to issue an invitation for a walking tour and picnic at Kew Gardens. When he arrived, you and your family were out, so rather than wait in the parlor, he wandered into the park near the Gardiners' home. Unfortunately, he overheard something that left him with the impression that his failed proposal was known to a much wider audience than he had previously supposed."

Elizabeth's eyes were wide and her blush was obvious even as her hands covered her mouth. "No! I have only spoken of it with Jane and my father, and neither would ever betray my confidence."

Though she was only confirming what Bingley had thought, he was relieved. Darcy had sounded as though half of London and all of Hertfordshire were snickering at him from behind their hands. "Darcy appears to be under the impression that your mother is upset that you turned down an eligible offer."

After blinking owlishly at him for some minutes, clearly confused, Elizabeth slapped her forehead and slumped back in a most unladylike manner. "Oh Mama! She knows nothing of my acquaintance with Mr. Darcy beyond Hertfordshire… but she does speak often of her disappointment that I did not oblige her by becoming… Mrs. Collins." She shut her eyes tightly, only to open them again at the sound of Mr. Bingley's chuckle.

"Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth. I could not resist imagining Darcy's reaction when he learns that his position is shared with your cousin."

Lizzy rolled her eyes.

Charles attempted a more serious tone. "This explains a great deal. Apparently something was said by your aunt and uncle about how uncomfortable you must have been in Kent after the proposal. Am I correct in understanding that you were visiting your cousin and his new wife while Darcy was at Rosings?"

Elizabeth was deeply embarrassed but could understand the humor in the situation. "Yes; Mr. Collins married my good friend, Charlotte Lucas, in December. I am not certain that it was the wisest decision she made in accepting him, but she is pleased with her new position. She pressed me to accompany Sir William and her sister on their visit to Hunsford in March."

The two sat quietly for some minutes, considering their conversation. Both were slightly startled when Holmes entered the room.

"Miss Bennet, your carriage has arrived. Should I tell them to wait?"

Checking the clock, Elizabeth was surprised to see she had been in Derwent House for nearly three hours. She stood and began collecting her things. "Thank you, Holmes. Please tell the driver that I shall be out in a few minutes." When she turned to Mr. Bingley, both smiled.

"I must return to my Uncle's house or they will worry."

Bingley was already standing to accompany her to the door. "Of course. Thank you for remaining; I believe I have enough information to clear up the most fundamental aspects of Darcy's misapprehensions. For the rest, he will need to speak with you directly."

The pair made their way companionably to the entry hall where Elizabeth gathered her coat and gloves. When she was ready, she turned to her sister's admirer with a great deal of affection. "Well, Mr. Bingley, it has been a most interesting afternoon. I hope to see you again very soon."

They shook hands and Elizabeth departed in the Gardiner carriage, leaving Mr. Bingley standing at the front door of Derwent House with the Darcy's venerable butler. Charles was struck with a most pleasant vision of the future when visits between two couples, sisters and the best of friends, would be a regular occurrence.

Squaring his shoulders, Bingley turned to the butler. "Holmes, this is a bit irregular, but I should like to make use of one of the guest chambers tonight. I have a great deal to relay to Mr. Darcy that will improve his disposition, but I believe it would be better to let him sleep as long as he can, for now."

The servant agreed immediately. Mr. Bingley was an intimate friend of Mr. Darcy and regularly stayed at Derwent House when both were in town. "I shall have your usual rooms readied immediately, sir."

Bingley grinned. "Thank you, Holmes! I shall send a note along to my valet and have him pack a few things." With a sense of mutual understanding, the two men parted, Bingley to the library to pen his note and Holmes to set the necessary wheels in motion for an overnight guest. The master might be asleep, but Derwent House was reviving after days of worry.