Beginning, Section II

Chapter One

Posted on Monday, 8 May 2006

Elizabeth was enjoying the brisk autumn weather at the end of this September in Hertfordshire, the fragrant smells or fires and the wonderful riot of the changing leaves made for a spectacular walk this day. The grounds around her beloved Longbourn was always a place of contentment to the confines of being insides as other young girls were wont to do, busy with embroidery, covering screens, or fashioning bonnets. To this Elizabeth blanched.

Give me a comfortable pair of shoes and a day of sunshine and I am just as happy to be on a path, discovering a new abandoned nest or delight in many a furry forest creature scampering across my way.

The book she had brought for her diversion lured her once again to open its pages as she walked unimpeded along the lonely walkway. Concentrating on reading while walking, a habit she had acquired in early childhood, she at first did not hear the voices arising from a nearby pasture, but finally, intruding on her sonnet, she made out the two male voices, one of whom sounded quite put out.

Pausing in her steps, Elizabeth turned in the direction of the voices, peaking through the break in the trees to see the two gentlemen having a heated argument about which Elizabeth had no idea.

"It is lost to you now. Come away. I shall buy you another."

"But it is my favorite one! I shall never find another exactly like it!"

"Bingley, you sound like a spoiled child. Of course, we can find you another precisely like it."

"Oh no you can't! The gentleman who created it has passed away, and his sons, who took over the shop are nothing compared to him in expertise. I want my own back, and I will not leave this field until I have it."

"Bingley-"

"I will not be moved, Darcy, I want my hat!"

The taller man sighed in resignation, trying to see a way to give his friend what he most desired. Elizabeth followed his eyes to a high branch in a nearby tree whereupon rested in a most precarious fashion a dark colored beaver hat, a few years past the fashion of the day, but still, a high quality piece of headgear.

Still hidden from the two men, Elizabeth watched as they began to formulate a plan to retrieve the wayward hat that had been blown presently out of their reach.

"You could climb the tree and shimmy out on the branch to reach it."

"I could climb the tree? Bingley, it is your hat. Why do you not climb the tree?"

"Your arms are much longer than mine, and besides, I doubt I could mount a horse in my present condition. Still...."

The gentleman called Bingley took another swig of his flask and teetered. Elizabeth gathered the man was obviously inebriated but determined to reclaim his headwear as he stepped up to the tree and attempted to climb only to fall backwards before gaining two branches. Had it not been for his friend, he would have landed hard on the ground, possibly striking his head on the many rocks strewn about. She could barely keep her countenance at the two harmless sots.

"You just sit here while I try to come up with a safer solution of retrieval." Darcy took note of the rocks and got an idea. He gathered up several of the larger ones, and aimed at the offending hat trying to knock it from its perch. It seems that the wind, in its infinite sense of humor, had lodged the beaver hat firmly between two limbs, and no amount of pelting t with rocks would make it give way. Darcy only succeeded in denting the near side to such a degree that Bingley began to protest for the injustice his friend was doing to its appearance.

Darcy sat beside his friend, accepting a drink from the flask. His own cheeks were flushed with the exercise and by the drink. Elizabeth could not help but giggle at exacerbation of the utter failure of their attempts to free his hat from the tree. "I am sorry, Bingley. I tried, but we will have to allow defeat."

Bingley mumbled, "it is my favorite hat too!"

Finally rising and moving off in the direction of Netherfield, Darcy, who was not as inebriated as his friend, caught a movement off the side to see a young lady approach the tree with the imprisoned hat, and look up in thoughtful meditation for several moments. Then looking down to the ground, she spied what she needed and picked up a rock the size of an orange, similar to the ones Darcy had chucked to no avail.

She will have no more luck and I.

Still watching with now a renewed interest as she dropped the rock, and pulled a low hanging branch down near to the ground, and set instead her book between its tight end limbs, and pulling it down to her feet, she let it loose. The branch swung back like a whip to hurl the book toward, not the hat, but another smaller branch that then whipped against the one holding fast to the beaver hat which shuttered before dropping lightly to the ground.

"I say," remarked Bingley, who had stopped to stare at her success. "Was that not a billiard's shot, Darcy?"

They both retraced their steps to where Elizabeth had bent to pick up the hat, dusting if off, and trying her best to reshape it into its original form.

"Thank you for retrieving my hat," Bingley said reaching out his hand. Elizabeth pulled it out of his reach and behind her back, trying not to smile.

"Not so fast, gentlemen. First, you must tell me to whom I have the pleasure of addressing who trespass on my father's property."

"Now see here, young lady. You know very well that is my-"

"Favorite hat, yes, I know."

"You were spying on us!" Bingley accused, his cheek flushed with belligerence at being denied his favorite headwear after she had succeeded where he had not in freeing it from the offending tree.

"Hardly, sir. I was merely walking as I often do around the grounds of my father's estate when I heard your voices in some distress, and wondered if I could help."

"You have. Now give me my hat...please." Bingley was near to pouting.

"First, your name, and what business you have here."

It was Darcy who made the introduction if only to keep his friend from displaying more childish behavior in his current state. "I am Fitzwilliam Darcy, and this gentleman, is my friend, Charles Bingley, who has leased the estate adjacent to yours."

"You are Mr. Bingley, the man of large...the man from the North who leased Netherfield?" Elizabeth's own cheeks colored.

"Yes, I am. And who might you be, young lady?"

"My name is Elizabeth Bennet, and my father's estate is Longbourn, a mere three miles from Netherfield. I often take the paths between them to read and commune."

Darcy retrieved her book, wiping the dirt from the cover and held it out to her. "I doubt Shakespeare would approve of how you use his works, Miss Bennet."

She grabbed the book, wanting to be miffed at his admonishment, but saw a smile trying so diligently to keep from forming about his mouth, to let her know he was thinking quite the opposite. Her eyebrow rose ever so imperceptivity as she handed Mr. Bingley back his hat which he grabbed before she could pull it from him again and planted it firmly on his head. Neither she nor Darcy had quitted silently staring at each other in some unspoken communication.

"Would you gentlemen care to join us for tea? I am sure my family would desire to meet the new tenant of Netherfield and his friend."

Darcy's smile widened, and Bingley, having finally been able to acquire his favorite hat, seemed in a much more jovial mood.

"Yes, that would be lovely. Would it not, Darcy?"

"Yes," he acknowledged, still staring at the loveliest creature to grace his path in many a year. "We would be happy to join you for tea, Miss Bennet." He motioned for her to lead the way.

Bingley, now in a much better mood, could not help but ask, "Miss Bennet, how did you know to...that is...have you any knowledge of...what I mean to say..."

"What Bingley is trying to say, is have you any experience in billiards, Miss Bennet?"

She smiled. "None, sir."

"Do you mean to say you have never played? But the way you judged the shot that brought down my hat was a classic maneuver requiring the highest caliber of skill, and..."

"I have never played billiards in my life, sir. My mother would never allow it."

"You are a natural, Miss Bennet. With little instruction, you would make an excellent opponent."

"Sir, I assure you-"

Bingley offered, "I have a table at Netherfield where I could teach you out of the way of your mother's knowing?"

Elizabeth giggled. "Gentlemen, if I ever desire to learn, I now know where to find the closest instructors. Until then, I must be satisfied with my abilities to retrieve wayward headgear from trees."

They made their way toward Longbourn, Bingley holding his hand tightly on the brim of his hat when a gust of wind tried once more to claim it.

Chapter two

Posted on Thursday, 11 May 2006

After the rather lengthy walk of nearly two miles which did much to offset the effects of drink, the trio neared the main lawns around Longbourn, coming through the woods at the rear of the property. It being somewhat a smaller estate than Netherfield did not detract from its beauty with the obvious care Mr. Bennet took in its maintenance. Both men were impressed by the upkeep of the estate that bode well for the neighborhood Bingley had ensconced himself.

Coming to a shaded area beneath one of the massive ancient trees, Elizabeth paused, bent down, and clutched several sprigs of foliage growing wild along the path. She handed each a share saying, "Before we enter the house, you should perhaps avail yourself of some of this."

Looking down, Darcy realized what she had offered were sprigs of mint leaves and wondered if the smell of alcohol was that potent.

"I dare say, if you enter the house and open your mouths to greet my parents, especially my father, he will wonder why two gentlemen of good breeding should find the need to imbibe so early in the day."

"Thank you kindly, Miss Bennet." Bingley was already chewing his share in such a way that Elizabeth could not help being reminded of a cow with its cud and smiled at his attempts. Darcy managed with a bit more finesse.

When she professed their breath properly aromatic, she led the way to the front of the house. The housekeeper, Hill, who happened past a window to see Miss Elizabeth with two gentlemen, waited at the door to allow them entrance, smiling as they satisfied her curiosity when they made their identities known.

Kitty and Lydia were also privy to the arrivals of guest at Longbourn. In their own ennui of the day, they passed their idleness with staring out the window to spy Elizabeth's coming from the back lawns accompanied by two gentlemen. Their squeals of delight at new blood to peak their interest brought the attention of Mrs. Bennet.

"Well, if that is not like the girl, to go off into the woods, only to find some strays to follow her home. From the cut of their clothes, they seem well to do, so I will keep my opinions to myself until I find out who they are." Gazing at her eldest she shrieked, "Jane! Go put on your blue dress to show you to best advantage! No, wait, there is no time. Just sit up straight. No man wants to see a woman slouch! Kitty! Lydia! Come away from the window and employ yourselves in some activity else they will think we are the kind of people who spy upon others. Hurry!"

They had all calmed themselves by the time the trio entered the room. Elizabeth found this amusing, realizing her family's awareness of their soon having visitors. She thought she had seen the curtains fluttering in the parlor window before.

"Mama, I met these gentlemen while on my stroll." She motioned to the shorter of the two. "May I present Mr. Charles Bingley, who has let Netherfield."

"Mum, I am happy to make your acquaintance."

Mrs. Bennet stood up and curtseyed when Mr. Bingley bowed. She fairly twittered, "The pleasure is ours I am sure, Mr. Bingley."

"And this is his friend, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"How do you do, Madam." He likewise bowed his head.

Mrs. Bennet turned to make the introductions of the remainder of her daughters including Mary, who reluctantly rose, closed her book, and at her mother glare, removed her eyeglasses.

The gentlemen bowed to each in turn, but Mr. Bingley, who held his beloved hat in his hand lest he lose it again, could not take his eyes from the eldest Miss Bennet. All he could think was that she was an angel.

Darcy knew that look and rolled his eyes as he sat down on the settee and forced Bingley, who seemed in a stupor, to do likewise. Clearly his friend was his usual self, first, lamenting his loss of a previous London society lady needing drink to fortify him from the demise of the relationship, to now becoming enamored with yet another young lady. Darcy sighed at Bingley's fickleness.

"Ring the bell for tea, Kitty," Mrs. Bennet commanded. She at least knew how to entertain prospective suitors to her five daughters." And what brings you into the neighborhood, Mr. Bingley? Do you not have other estates in your family?"

To this Elizabeth colored and Darcy rolled their eyes at such a mercenary question, thinking the woman no different from the town mamas who were always on the look out for rich husbands. When he saw Elizabeth shake her head in disgust he knew she felt the same mortification. Their eyes locked.

Before they could take stock in their discovery of one another's common viewpoint on the matter, hiccups ensued from the nervous Bingley as he tried to answer Mrs. Bennet's pointed questions.

"I...that is...though I am from the north...I (hic)...have never had the(hic), I beg your pardon...I was desirous to(hic), oh, my, I am truly sorry for(hic)(hic)(hic)"

At this point Bingley gave up trying to speak as more hiccups commenced while he covered his mouth with a handkerchief to keep the sound from deafening the room. He could smell the alcohol with each hiccup which only made him more nervous that the lady of the house would soon be aware of it too. This only succeeded in producing more hiccups which caused him more consternation.

Kitty offered him a glass of water which Bingley gulped in one swallow, followed by several more hiccups. He rolled his eyes. Lydia, without allowing him to brace himself, slapped him hard between his shoulder blades which almost toppled him over.

Mary admonished her severely with a sermon on the merits of aiding those less fortunate without going so far as killing them with such kindness. Mary was near enough to suspect what had caused his foul breath and did not approve of such a vice. Thumbing her nose in the air, she retreated to a corner with her book, refusing any longer to help.

By this time Bingley was red faced with embarrassment, standing up to keep his distance from the ladies faces should he again send foul smelling hiccups their way and turning to his friend for aid out of this predicament. Darcy offered a second glass of water requesting that he swallow it slowly. Doing as he was instructed, Bingley began to have better progress with stifling more hiccups and calmed down considerably.

Thinking the crisis now over, all the rest of the party sat down with a collective sigh. Bingley ventured a glance at Jane Bennet to see if she thought less of him after this little escapade, but to his great delight she was smiling at him, clearly amused now that he was in no danger. This did more for Bingley's state of mind than had any other attempts to cure him of his malady.

"Well," Mrs. Bennet sighed taking up her cup again. "That was most unusual, to say the least. I wonder what could have caused such an outburst, Mr. Bingley."

"What, indeed," Elizabeth muttered, her brow rising as she sipped her tea. Another glance at the man's friend caused her to start. He was staring at her...again. And was that a smile trying to come out of that serious face of his?

A more guarded conversation began whereby Mr. Bingley told them of his plans to lease Netherfield for a time to know if the society in Meryton was to his liking. This brought a cheery intercourse from the rest in the room. Talk of his attending the next ball at the Assembly was discussed as well as his hosting one of his own to establish himself in the neighborhood. They were well into that discussion when Mr. Bennet entered the room. The gentlemen rose, and shook his hand each in turn.

When Bingley spoke, Mr. Bennet held his hand over his own mouth as a sign that he was aware of what the man had ingested, but said nothing of it, allowing young men to have some vice that did not include the opposite sex. Having a bit to drink was one thing. Cavorting with loose women was quite another.

"Good to see you gentlemen again." This greeting his wife picked up on right away.

"Again? Whatever do you mean, sir?"

"That I introduced myself to them some three days ago, not more than a week after they first came into the neighborhood. Is that not so, gentlemen?"

Both young men nodded in agreement.

Mrs. Bennet sputtered, "When you said naught to me? You stated that you would not make the effort to do so, but did it anyway, and then did not tell anyone of it?"

"I confess to the folly of trying to surprise you, my dear."

"What a joke!" barked Lydia, snorting.

"Lydia!" Admonished Jane.

Just then the door opened and a person entered that the family knew well.

Elizabeth hugged her friend. "Charlotte! I am happy you are come. Have you met our newest neighbors?"

"Yes, I have had the pleasure last week after my father went to invite them to dinner. It is good to see you again Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy."

"Likewise," Darcy bowed.

"Yes, (hic)" Bingley covered his mouth with his handkerchief and begged her pardon.

"I am come to invite you to a party my father is hosting at Lucas Lodge Saturday a week. You, Mr. Bingley and all your party are, of course, likewise invited. I do hope you can join us."

"We would be honored, Miss Lucas. We have no fixed engagements," Darcy offered after his friend nodded dabbing his mouth with the handkerchief.

After a pleasant half hour passed, the afternoon waned and Charlotte made to leave. The gentlemen likewise had overstayed their visit and rose to accompany Miss Lucas on their own way back to Netherfield.

"Next time you come," offered Mrs. Bennet, "you must stay for supper. I will have two kinds of fish and three different meat dishes."

They thanked her profusely, Bingley bowing especially to Miss Bennet who smiled at his gallantry. When the trio was on their way, Mrs. Bennet was the first to say how pleased she was at the acquaintance. To this Mary accused, "He drinks."

"Everyone drinks, Mary," Mr. Bennet said. "If it was somewhat early in the day for your sensibilities let us hold judgment to know if it was an unusual circumstance or a habit needing to be overcome. Let us give him some leeway just this once, shall we?"

To this Mary shrugged and went back to her reading.

Kitty, while trying to take a ribbon from Lydia to dress her bonnet, asked, "And what think you of the other gentleman, Papa?"

"Well, he is rather tall, is he not?"

Elizabeth looked up from her embroidery as Jane giggled. "Papa!"

"Well, well, he seems a nice sort of man for being so rich, I dare say he is somewhat standoffish, but not too high and mighty for my liking."

Mrs. Bennet was now quite interested in the man. She had enough wit to gather that Mr. Bingley must be a man of good fortune to have let Netherfield, but made out the other as being merely Mr. Bingley's friend. Now the thought of another rich man coming into the neighborhood was music to her ears with five daughters to marry off.

"How rich, Mr. Bennet, is this Mr. Darcy?"

"He has a vast estate in Derbyshire called Pemberley where the village of Lambton nestles near. You remember your sister Gardiner telling you of it, of her passing her youth in that neighborhood? Mr. Darcy's family is one of the richest in the surrounding area. Why, I would estimate his wealth as exceeding ten thousand a year from that property alone."

"Ten thousand...oh Jane!" Mrs. Bennett nearly had an attack of apoplexy at the news. "Get my smelling salts. I think I am going to faint!"

Of course, she never fainted for the foul smell of the salts assailed her nostrils and she went on with her effusions. "Oh, Mr. Bennet! What a fine thing for our girls!"

"How so?"

Exasperated, Mrs. Bennet explained, "I have it in mind that they will marry two of our girls, of course."

Mr. Bennet opened his paper calming. "Yes, but that presupposes that they will wish to marry them, does it not?"

"Oh, Mr. Bennet! How you enjoy vexing me! Of course, they will want to marry our girls. Who would not wish to marry our dear Jane? She is not beautiful for nothing."

To this Mr. Bennet could only nodded and hum his agreement while poor Jane turned three shades of red as her sisters giggled at her embarrassment, grateful that their mother was not focusing on them.

Mrs. Bennet's attentions then centered on her second eldest. "Lizzy! I give you leave to marry the one that Jane does not choose. It was, after all, you who brought them out of the woods to visit with us." Before Elizabeth could dispel her mother of any notions of the kind, Mrs. Bennet paused, wondering aloud, "How came they to be in the woods in the first place?"

"I think they were merely on a stroll to acquaint themselves with the surrounding area, Mama," began Elizabeth, choosing what she would not relate of the incident.

Just then she noticed an object on the table beside Jane's seat, and smiled. There sitting very stoically was a somewhat out of fashioned beaver hat, placed there by its owner when he stopped to converse with Elizabeth's elder sister.

After all the fuss the man had made to try to recover his precious headgear, here it now sits.

For him to find himself so absentminded as to completely forget a beloved hat must mean only one thing.

Perhaps Mr. Bingley has found something else in which to become enamored. Jane?

Elizabeth saw an easy excuse for her sister to pay a visit to the man at Netherfield if only to return the somewhat disheveled piece of headgear that had brought about their introduction.

Chapter Three

Posted on Sunday, 14 May 2006

The previous fortnight had been of a kind that one seldom has the possibility to forget, not when four or I should say five sisters were constantly making note of all the comings and goings on in the neighborhood. Firstly, though I should justifiably say lastly, for the concerns of the youngest sisters should not take precedence over that of the eldest, but never mind that now. A company of militia came into the area to decamp for the winter, the society of the officers being the talk of Meryton and the countryside. There was not a person in skirts that did not give out a collective sigh at the visage of a man decked out in regimentals. The temperature of any room wherein even one of Colonel Forester's officer occupied rose subsequence to the number of ladies also occupying self same room.

Neither were the Bennet girls immune to the folly of falling under the spell of a man in uniform, for he had a regal quality about him that would not be apparent if the same human male had been attired merely in evening wear. There were few exceptions to this rule, but that will come later. The fact that both Lydia and Kitty were making spectacles of themselves with regard the officers was not altogether surprising, given their penchant toward silliness and vulgarity. The fact that Mr. Bennet allowed it, nay, encouraged them with his lackadaisical manner of correcting his offspring was no sore point to his wife who, with very little effort remarked her wish for anyone of the officers who had a decent income to make an offer to her remaining daughters.

Jane, it seemed, had already made her choice in the person of Mr. Charles Bingley which left Mr. Darcy to Lizzy. She had thus far made no attempt to secure that man's attentions.

Secondly, thought perhaps this should have been spoken firstly, but never mind that. Jane had meant to return Mr. Bingley's hat the very next day, however, conditions being what they were, something on a par with having one of the servants misplacing it, thinking it was one of Mr. Bennet's old hats to be given to charity, and when this was discovered, a frantic search ensued throughout Longbourn until the before mentioned headpiece was found a bit misshapen from being at the bottom of a pile of old clothes.

So, Jane ended up not having the privilege of returning the hat until after the Assembly ball that weekend and after the party at Lucas Lodge where Jane met and was welcomed by none other than Mr. Bingley's sisters. They pronounced her a sweet girl, and thought no more about her, keeping to their own group for the most part, leaving the militia in the capable hands of the five Bennet sisters and all their countrified neighbors.

At the Assembly Ball, Mr. Darcy had shown his true hubris in refusing to dance a single dance, not even with Miss Bingley who pouted at him, saying that he had promised her one dance. He had not. Neither was he amused with news at his ability to attract females, gotten out with the gossip he overheard as to the size of his income among other attributes, and became disgusted with the lot of them. So uncomfortable did this make him that Darcy refused to make any efforts to civility lest it be taken as his approval of their unwanted attention.

They only bright spot had been his being able to watch Miss Elizabeth Bennet grace the dance floor with whoever asked her. It mattered not. Darcy could not tell one gentleman from another for his eyes were only fixed on her. If his staring was noticed and remarked on, he did not hear of it. He merely enjoyed the scenery while it lasted.

Elizabeth, however, had noticed and even asked him of it when she begged for a respite of at least one dance in which she could procure a cup of punch. Seeing the handsomely attired Mr. Darcy beside the punch bowl, she fell in beside him to ask his reason for not dancing. His reply was terse.

"I do not dance as a rule unless I know well my partner."

"Really?" Elizabeth's eyebrow arched. "I see that you have yet to dance with Mr. Bingley's sister though I gather you know her quite well."

Darcy raised his eyes to the ceiling rather than say something he would regret of the lady in question. Finally with a calmer mien, he stared to the lady before him, "You are very observant, Miss Bennet. Not knowing one's partner is but one reason for my refusing to dance."

Elizabeth smiled. "Shall I guess the others?"

Darcy smiled, his head nodding ever so slightly. "You may have three guesses before I call your forfeit."

She gasped at his making this a wager, but accepted the challenge, pausing before making her first guess. "You have yet to learn to dance. Your upbringing was negligent in that area to compensate for the overabundant study of Greek, Latin and French."

Darcy pursed his lips. "As well as Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, along with a good deal of mathematics and history, but no, Miss Bennet, my education in the art of dance has not been lax by any stretch of the imagination."

"So, you can dance well?"

He nodded.

"But you choose not to engage in the activity for reasons other than your ability."

Darcy gazed about the room to note where Bingley had cornered the elder Miss Bennet, his eyes seeking them out in chairs by the dancers, refusing to make any other reply to his nearest companion.

Elizabeth's next guess gave him insight into her own personality. "You despise the activity though you excel in it due to your always being partnered with a rather unattractive cousin whose abilities were less than your own, and whose constant apologies so grated on your nerves that you threatened your family verbally should they force you to dance with said cousin ever again."

To this Darcy gave out one "ha" as he consumed the contents of his cup. "That incident is not far from the truth of what occurred when I was thirteen. One of my elderly cousins was due to come out that year, and for several month I was "forced" into making myself available for her to manhandle in her feeble attempts to place one foot before the other, but no, Miss Bennet, that too, is not the answer you are seeking." He placed his cup upon the table and challenged, "One last guess, and then you lose."

She gave him a wary stare, then smiled. "I am not afraid of you."

"Well you should not be, Madam. I have never harmed another person in my life." He paused, "Now, what is your final guess?"

Taking a deep breath she sighed, "You have other physical activities that take precedence over that of dancing, say, riding, fencing, target shooting with pistols, archery, wrestling, hiking, or other sedentary activities that keeps you from the dance. You have a large estate, I hear, which much take up a great deal of time required maintaining it, and other family members to keep you busy. You, sir, make no time to dance."

Now a smile so broad graced his face that dimples showed in his cheeks. All Elizabeth could think was, how handsome he is when he smiles. Darcy shook his head, his smile intact. "No, Miss Bennet, I have time enough to dance, time at this very moment should I choose to participate."

Darcy wondered why would she made so weak an excuse when she knew how easily he could rebut it." He had part of his answer in her reply.

"I wonder what it can mean to lose to so lofty an individual as yourself, Mr. Darcy What is it that I must forfeit?"

"You must do something I will ask of you, and you must do it without question."

Her eyes widened at this cryptic statement. "Should I be afraid now, Mr. Darcy?"

"Certainly not. You will never be in any danger of either your person or your reputation, I assure you."

"And you cannot tell me what this something is that I must do?"

"I have yet to decide upon it."

"Ah," she rose from her chair to return to the dancing. "Then I will leave you to your pondering. Good evening, Mr. Darcy." She curtseyed.

"Good evening, Miss Bennet." He bowed low.

The two fashionable Bingley sisters, for lack of anything better to amuse themselves in what they considered a backward little hovel, invited Jane to dine with them while Mr. Bingley and the other gentlemen were out of the house. Mrs. Bennet was in great haste for Jane to comply, and had her upon their old horse Nellie just as breakfast was done to have her well on her way, "As it looks like rain."

The rains started before Jane was barely out of the gate, clopping along on their old horse. She tried her best to shield Mr. Bingley's hat under her cloak, but soon it too was soaked through giving shelter for neither rider nor the hat. Being made of beaver pelt, which normally repels water, it seemed the sealant was rather old too, so that the hat became more sodden as she plodded on.

By the time Jane reached Netherfield the odor emanating from it reminded both Jane and the butler who answered the door of that of a wet dog in summer. When she was taken to the two ladies currently enjoying performing on the pianoforte, they feigned excitement of her coming in such dreary weather. Over Jane's head the sisters exchanged knowing glances that behavior in a female seemed to confirm what they had reason to suspect. Had they not invited her to lunch with them today ostensively to converse on the latest fashions, but in truth wished to know what designs dear Jane may have on their brother?

Jane, being a sweet girl, would not be made to say an unkind word of anybody, least of all Mr. Bingley. She was likewise quite modest, so would only admit that Mr. Bingley was very amiable. Satisfied for the moment that they had nothing to fear on Jane's part, the superior sisters did launch into a conversation of the latest fashions to come from the Continent without regard for the condition of poor Jane's attire. She was practically soaked to the bone, and was becoming very chilled, even with the fire and the several cups of tea. She had begun profuse sneezing as preamble to the onset of a cold.

Mr. Bingley, upon his return from luncheon with the officers, would not have his newest angel discomforted in anyway, and so immediately offered her the use of the guestroom to lie down and rest while he sent for the apothecary who recommended that Jane not be moved for the time being. And there she was to remain with Mr. Bingley scribbling a short note to inform all those at Longbourn of what had occurred.

Mrs. Bennet smiled. Everything was working out just as she planned with no one the wiser. Sometimes foolish people think themselves very clever.

Chapter Four

Posted on Saturday, 20 May 2006

After leaving the Netherfield party briefly after dinner to see to the still ailing Jane in one of the guest rooms above stairs, Elizabeth took it upon herself to return to the parlor without the aid of an escort in guise of a servant this time.

Surely being such an avid walker and thus a fine navigator, I am capable of making my way back to the parlor.

Yes, well, as surely as you say a thing can be done is when you have trouble doing that very thing. It is like taking directions from someone to a certain house on a certain street, and they tell you, "Oh you cannot miss it." That is the surest sign that you will go right past where you are to turn and miss the house entirely. And so it was for Elizabeth. Without the escort to show her the way, she turned wrong down several hallways while trying to make heads or tails of the seemingly changeable corridors that made up the maze that was Netherfield. She was just of a mind to turn back and retrace her steps, a sure way to at least come to the beginning again, when Elizabeth was attracted by a muffled noise. Making her way towards the sound led her into the entryway of a room with dark paneled walls upon which were hung tapestries of hunting and a rack of long poles in a vertical case. When she came completely into the room she let out a little gasp. Darcy straightened from his prone position over the green felt covered table. He bowed his head while standing with the cue idle in his hand, and without his topcoat to complete his ensemble.

"Miss Bennet, I was..."

She quipped, "Delaying your entrance into the parlor for reasons you would rather not discuss." How she wished she could do likewise to keep out of the way of the superior sisters.

His eyebrows rose as he could think of no suitable answer to her pointed question. Then, a thought came to him and his smile appeared.

"Play billiards with me."

"What? I told you that -"

"It is what I choose for your forfeit."

"Why?"

"It is what I wish. You promised you do as I asked without question."

"I said no such thing."

"But your silence was you acquiescence."

"As I told you that day in the forest, I do not know how to play sir."

He moved to select a cue for her. "Yes, you do, as surely as you know how to play chess."

Elizabeth gasped. "How could you possibly know that?"

Darcy was now certain of it. "I have overheard enough of your conversations to know how your mind works, Miss Bennet, to see how you enjoy twisting your turn of phrase in a gentle play of words that none but perhaps your father can untangle to see the humor in what you truly meant by what you said, the mark of a worthy opponent. It is the same way a master chess player thinks when planning his gambits." He chalked the cue in a nonchalant manner, calm in his assurance that she would be challenged to play one game at least.

"Except that you too seem privy to my thoughts, the mark of perhaps an intelligence equal to my father's."

She was gazing at the table, noting how it was constructed, her fingers running over the soft felt of the top as her mind reasoned out the way one would make the shots that, depending on how many balls were involved, could be very complicated. Without taking her eyes off the table she was examining more fully, she made him promise, "My mother must never know of this."

Darcy smiled inwardly. He knew he had her. "I will be the soul of discretion, Miss Bennet."

It took him barely five minutes instruction in explaining the rules, the shots, the positioning of the cue in one's hands, the correct way and spot to tap the white ball so that it would careen into the others at just the correct angle to make them fall into the pockets. She was now eager to play. He was not surprised that within a scant quarter hour she had managed to score points to her advantage that Darcy could credit only to a more experienced players. She was naturally adept at depth perception, had a light touch of the cue on the white ball, and had a keen mind for the linear dimensional thinking required for the game as well as strategies to leave her opponent with little use when she must give way. At times she was actually making better shots than himself.

It did not help his game when she displayed her décolleté so prominently when leaning down to make a shot, seemingly oblivious to what affect such exposure had on him. Darcy swallowed and thereafter dutifully kept his eyes trained on her hands, the shot in progress, the repositioning of the balls once they had ceased movement, anything rather than Miss Bennet's person. Soon, his urges conquered, his own competitive nature took over. They were merely opponents at the moment, continuing to play several games until she seemed to have mastered banking shots with such dexterity Darcy doubted he could have done much better.

A wager ensued at the last game with the winner able to call for a prize from the other, again, without question. Clearly, Darcy thought, this Miss Bennet enjoys the art of gambling when she is assured of winning.

This amused Darcy's ego, but he reasoned that she was too much a novice to be so lucky. Therefore, to his surprise, when the last of the remaining balls fell into the pockets, it was Miss Bennet who had scored the most points. Darcy mentally reviewed his strategies to know where his downfall lay, coming up with the only conclusion possible. He had underestimated her abilities. He would have to learn from that mistake.

An argument then ensued in which she asked for a certain prize, and he blatantly refused to submit. He was not used to being bettered, especially by a woman which may have been part of his pique, but in point of fact, he truly had no wish to give in to her demand, and would not be moved without a great deal of negotiations.

"You lost, Mr. Darcy, and so owe me my prize, and that is what I wish."

"No, Miss Bennet. That I will not give you." He sat down on the edge of the billiard's table, leaning on the cue in his hand, determined to negotiate until she relented of her request of him.

When she approached him to further the argument, Darcy rose to stand. Her gaze was upon his face and not the wooden stick. She tripped over the offending cue, likewise tangling her feet with his own, letting out a gasp. Both would have gone sprawling to the floor had it not been for Darcy's quick reflexes. In a flash he had grabbed her by the waist and spun her round, with the dexterity of a cat righting itself in mid-air, to have her lying on the billiard's table and himself nearly prone atop her. She had barely had time to even catch her breath. Their faces were near touching, their eyes level.

His voice appeared calm. "Are you unharmed, Miss Bennet?"

"I...I think so."

But Darcy could feel her trembling beneath him, and her eyes gave way to some concerns for her person and her reputation.

His ego was flattered that she, of all people, managed to have him this near to her, but it also gave him cause for concern with his wondering if she had deliberately manipulated the situation for this express purpose. "Miss Bennet, have you ever heard the phrase, ‘be careful not to awaken a sleeping lion'?"

Darcy pulled her up, setting her to rights before letting go of her waist.

Her words were her denial. "I have, sir, but do not think that this could possibly be related to such an occurrence."

Pausing, his mind returned to their previous discussion. "I will not give way, Miss Bennet, least of all for the purpose of satisfying merely the spoils of a game."

Elizabeth swallowed, unsure of what he was telling her. "Sir, are you sure you are not still playing?"

His gaze fell from her eyes to those pouting lips that did their best to tempt him, but he would not give way to such temptation when nothing could come of it except harm to her.

"It is best you remember that phrase, Miss Bennet. Choose another request of me as forfeit." She dropped her gaze and nodded, dutifully chastised.

He turned away, opening and closing his still tingling hands, and had just shrugged back into his topcoat, straightening the collar and pulling firm on the cuffs when he heard a gasp come from the doorway. Bingley had entered the room just in time to see Elizabeth bending over the table to retrieve several of the colored balls to corral them back in the wooden rack, displaying her ample décolleté to him.

Elizabeth flushed when she saw where his eyes rested, and immediately stood up. "Mr. Bingley, I was just..." Thinking Mr. Bingley knew exactly what had taken place only moments before, she rushed her, "Excuse me,." and quickly exited the room.

Bingley turned his gaze upon his friend for an explanation to which Darcy would only say, "Miss Bennet entered the billiard room when she got turned round in the maze of Netherfield's corridors, Bingley. I was just about to escort her to join you in the parlor for the evening."

"I see. Well, that is why I came looking for you, Darcy. Caroline has been asking of your whereabouts for nigh on a half hour, and you were here all this time, hiding out." He saw his friend purse his lips rather than deny the gentle accusation or say what he truly felt of Miss Bingley's persistent though futile attempts at conquest.

Bingley made no mention of his witnessing any indiscretion, so Darcy thought Elizabeth's reputation intact. Mentally he chastised himself for giving in to even a moment's hesitation after he had kept her from falling. Whether she was aware of it or not, she had succeeded where no other woman had lately, to awaken feelings in him that he had long ago buried. He would need to be on his guard to countermand any more of her allures now that he at least was aware of what she was capable.

The two gentlemen made their way down several corridors before stopping at the double door to the parlor in use for their amusement while Elizabeth, unbeknownst to them, followed at a discrete distance to keep from losing her way again. They could all hear the strains of the pianoforte, so knew that Caroline was within, most likely with her sister and her husband. Darcy hesitated. "I just remember something I forgot from my room, Bingley. I shall join you shortly."

Bingley looked at him askance. "See that you do, Darcy. I have been already making excuses for you, and do not intend to continue to do so. I would much prefer to be of service to Miss Bennet, reading to her in her sick room, but have relegated my time entertaining my sisters instead." With that Bingley entered the salon and the door closed behind him.

"The coast is now clear for you, Miss Bennet," Darcy bade Elizabeth.

Sheepishly, Elizabeth came out from the corner. "How did you know-?"

He said simply, "Your lavender scent betrays your presence."

To this she could only nod and gaze at the floor. "Do you think Mr. Bingley saw...when you...when we..."

"No," he assured her, "else he would have been more forthcoming in responding to such irresponsible conduct on my part."

"You...you promise to tell no one?"

Darcy gave her an incredulous stare. "Certainly I will tell no one of the innocent yet compromising encounter! And will you assure me that it will not happen again?"

His query raised her dander. "I can assure you that it was not purposely done, sir. You are well aware that I am usually more capable of staying on my feet since you stared at me constantly while at the Assembly dance."

With this memory Darcy came to be in a better humor, admitting, "That is true, Miss Bennet. At that time you seem quite agile and fleet of foot."

"So," she continued in her own playful though accusing manner, "unless you consciously moved the cue in my way in order to-"

He huffed. "You believe me capable of deliberately tripping you up to have you fall into my arms? I assure you, Madam, I abhor disguises of any sort, and would never risk harm to anyone merely to then act as their savior in order that they be grateful or-"

"Then, let us agree that is was an accident of unforeseen circumstance that harmed neither person nor reputation, and leave it at that."

Darcy silently gazed at her for a long time before nodding his acceptance of both her innocence and her proposal. "I request, Miss Bennet, you think of an alternative prize while you are being entertained by Miss Bingley." He saw her roll her eyes to reflect his own attitude for the striking woman in question whose penchant for snobbery did her no more justice than the color orange.

Darcy bowed and left Miss Bennet to enter the parlor alone, so as not to raise any suspicion that they had been alone together playing a game that not only her mother would have disapproved.

Chapter Five

Posted on Wednesday, 24 May 2006

The next morning as Elizabeth made her way down to the breakfast room, she saw Mr. Darcy talking quietly to the Netherfield butler on a matter that seemed of some import. Mr. Forshaw shook his head in an apologetic way while Darcy continued speaking with more insistence until the butler nodded finally though with great reluctance. Handing Mr. Forshaw a letter, Darcy seemed now to be giving instructions with the butler nodding once more. At the close of their conversation Mr. Forshaw bowed as Darcy walked away. Only then did the butler shake his head again in disbelief of what he had been ordered.

Without hearing the words exchanged by the men, the only ones Elizabeth could make out from their lips were "Oh, sir," and "you must" and "as soon as may be," to finally, "Of course, sir." She had no idea the subject from such poor information, and was left to wonder about what they were discussing as she continued down the now deserted hallway.

Reaching the door to the breakfast room, Elizabeth expected to hear the voices of both Mr. Bingley's sisters, and the always voracious Mr. Hurst, but it was all quiet when the servant opened the door for her. She was surprised upon entering to see no one but Mr. Darcy, standing by the window, viewing the prospect, coffee cup in hand.

"Mr. Darcy," she tried not to stammer. He turned to stare at her before dropping his eyes to the floor as he bowed. The servant helped her into her chair.

"Good morning, Miss Bennet. Might I inquire after your sister?"

Elizabeth smiled and nodded. "I think she is a little better. I thank you for asking."

:I am glad of it."

The servant began to offer her a variety of foods from a serving tray, and she made her selection while Darcy merely stood beside the table. "You are not going to eat, Mr. Darcy?"

"I have already breakfasted earlier, Miss Bennet, and was waiting for Bingley to see if we are still to have some sport this morning."

"I see." Elizabeth unfolded the napkin to her lap and accepted the servant's pouring coffee in her cup. Just then a servant entered and walked up to Darcy to whisper some exchange. Darcy nodded and the servant departed to have Darcy seat himself in a chair beside Elizabeth.

"Bingley's servant has just informed me that an urgent letter calls him to his study to write a reply. He begs his apology for not being available this morning." He accepted a second cup of coffee.

Elizabeth smiled behind her coffee cup. "And so you are free for the entire morning. I know that will make our hostess excessively happy to have you available for her entertainment, Mr. Darcy."

It amused her that though his face showed no sign of resentment at the prospect of being hours in Miss Bingley's company, Elizabeth saw how the man's fingers tensed on the handle of his cup, and was glad it was an inanimate object lacking feelings for she was sure it would protest being squeezed so hard.

He offered, "With the rest of the household still abed, I seem to be at your leisure, Miss Bennet. Have you an inclination for a ramble, or perhaps just a walk around the gardens?"

Elizabeth silently ate more of what was on her plate as she considered such an invitation. "Has it been raining again?"

"No, I think it has stopped for now, though we are sure to find a puddle or two to avoid along the path."

"Then, I think I would like to walk in the gardens while you tell me of what plans Mr. Bingley hopes in future for the beds and the walkways."

Darcy actually smiled at her acceptance. "I will await you in the library until-"

"That is not necessary, Mr. Darcy. I am quite done," she said wiping her mouth and pushing the chair from the table. He saw that she had taken not more than a few bites of any of the array of food, but he had no wish to question her if she was satisfied. Had he thought further on her reasons to vacate the room, perhaps Darcy might have come to the conclusion that Elizabeth would prefer to forego food if it also meant she might forego meeting a certain lady who's false sincerity and pointed remarks were not so appealing at such an early hour.

They gathered their hats, gloves and coats and met at the door a few moments later. Opening and exiting the door, they were both surprised by the crispness of the air that promised an early winter, each smiling at their joy of being out of doors after a rain, and started silently down the pathway into the side gardens that ran along the house wall before it meandered out into the formal rose gardens.

Making their way through some turns found them deep within the taller shrubbery where benches dotted the path aside the beds that frequented the walkway, some filled with various plants in their last autumn glory while others had already been cut down and mulched for winter's onslaught. After Elizabeth and then Darcy commented on the degree of growth and variety of plant, and with Darcy relating what he knew of Bingley's planned alterations to the beds, both remained in quiet enjoyment of the air and the scenery.

"Have you made up your mind as to what should be my forfeit, Miss Bennet?"

"You mean other than the one I first chose for you?"

"Other than the one unacceptable due to more than one cause, I assure you."

"Yes, I have thought of an alternate, however, I have reason to believe that you will find it equally as unpalatable as the first."

"After my refusal of your first suggestion, I fear I have no choice but to accept your second. Of what do you wish of me, Miss Bennet?"

They continued walking amid the beautiful gardens, two people who loved the freedom of nature. Each enjoyed how it had taken over this part of the path but for causing the taller Mr. Darcy the need to duck from the low hanging overgrowth of seldom trimmed limbs.

"You are aware that Mr. Bingley intends to host a ball when Jane is recovered enough to attend? He spoke of it when my mother came to visit, and even allowed that youngest sister, Lydia name the day."

"I seem to recall the conversation, and I gather that my forfeit has some bearing on it? What would you have me do? Am I to serve you all drinks, participate in charades, play an instrument ill?" Here he almost laughed at his next absurd suggestion. "Are you commanding me to dance with you?"

At this suggestion Elizabeth gazed up at him and pursed her lips to keep from laughing out loud at his expression when she thought her serious. "You heard me when I spoke of my abhorrence at dancing with someone I do not know well."

"What better way to begin to know a person than to share the time it takes to go down the line? Yes, I shall like to see you dance, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy bit his lip rather than say how this suggestion brought him little humor, but reasoned that he had asked for this, and must now take the consequences. "I suppose I can endure one dance, Madam, in lieu of the alternative."

"No just me, sir, but every Bennet of the female persuasion, one dance for each of my sisters and one for my mother."

"That I refuse, Miss Bennet. Married ladies do not dance at balls."

" Oh, pish-posh! This is merely a ball given by a country gentleman, and not to be compared to the more formal affairs of London. If a married woman chooses to dance, she is free to so, that is if she accepts."

"She might...refuse?" Darcy thought that most incredible. "What of your other sisters? Will they likewise be so obstina-"

He broke off what he intended to say, but Elizabeth could clearly see the conversation was not moving in the amusing way she had envisioned. Seeing he was in no humor to give consequence to her initial suggestion, she tried to soothe his bruised ego with, "I assure you, sir, that all Bennet women love to dance and will, no doubt, be impressed when asked by the most eligible bachelor in the neighborhood."

They walked on in silence for some time, so long that Elizabeth was sure he would refuse, too, this second suggestion from her to claim her forfeit. When they had walked down the path which led into the meadows between Netherfield and the neighboring estate they were distracted by a boy brandishing a hand hewn slingshot, the "Y" shaped branch secured by leather straps, but they were not the target of his hunt. Clearly the lad was intent on his quarry and did not even notice the two adult walking slowly behind. Soon, however, they were both alerted to what the boy was aiming, for they all saw the result of it at once.

The lad pulled back his arm, his fingers cradling the strap and a good sized pebble. Before Darcy could shout a protest, the boy let loose his fingers, there was a "thwang" sound and all eyes followed the arc taking the pebble towards a nearby tree where hung a neatly round formed bee's nest. The pebble crashed through one side, plowing clear through the back to devastate the nest. In the next instant there emerged a great swarm of angry insects out for revenge, flying in the direction of the three humans not far off.

The boy dropped his slingshot and screamed, "Oh Lord!" His backside was all the couple saw as he ran through the trees as fast as his young legs would carry him. Elizabeth was turning to join him in flight when Darcy caught her by the arms and pulled her behind a tree, ordering her, "Stay completely still."

To say that she was frightened to be stung by several bees was nothing to her terror of being stung by an entire swarm, but Darcy held her firm against his chest in a grip so tight, she doubted she could break free had she thought to. They heard the sound of the swarm drawing very near. Elizabeth closed her eyes. Darcy hand came up to further shield her head as they awaited their fate. Had she not been trembling so badly she would have noticed how tense was Darcy. There was a great buzzing very near, but then the sound diminished and the bees went elsewhere in their fit of anger.*

It was several minutes before Elizabeth realized that all was safe and they had been spared of even one sting although there were wayward bees all around them, but all seemed to be flying without purpose. She opened her eyes to first look about her to the sight of bees doing what she had often seen them, flitting from flower to flower gathering pollen. She closed her eyes again, leaning her face into Darcy's chest, and needing to take several deep breaths in order to control her labored breathing. In her confusion, her muffled voice asked, "Why did they not attack?"

"Perhaps they did to the culprit who caused this. It could be they are attracted to movement."

"So if you pretend to be a tree they might overlook you?"

"If they are attracted to color, neither of us are dress suitably, your rust colored spencer and my drab greatcoat seem poor prospects for pollen."

"While the boy was dressed in a red and yellow outfit?"

"Just ripe for a bee to think pollen was at hand."

Still somewhat shaken, but gaining control of herself, she inquired, "Seriously, sir, how did you know that to stay still instead of fleeing would be the safest path?"

He smiled but gave her no further explanation which caused her to scoff and pull free of his embrace and continue their walk. Both were silent for different reasons.

"I suppose now you wish me to rescind at least a part of your forfeit?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, you were my savior back there, though again the peril was by no means any of my doing, but as we are both unscathed from bee stings by your swift actions, you are probably thinking a reward is merited."

Darcy frowned and exhaled his displeasure both at the bent of their conversation and of her less than appealing view of himself. "A true gentleman does not seek rewards for doing what is right, Miss Bennet."

"True, but nevertheless, I will allow you to alter your forfeit somewhat. I would still have you dance at the ball at Netherfield, but you do not have to dance all night with my family."

"I thank you for that," he said sarcastically.

"Sir, I am trying to be magnanimous. The least you can do is try to be civil."

"Quite so, Miss Bennet. Please forgive me. I would be honored to dance with you at the ball."

"And?"

Resigning himself to the ordeal, he dropped his head in reply. "And one other, but of my choosing, agreed?"

Elizabeth paused, not sure of what he had in mind, but nodded. "Yes, I agree."

Darcy stooped to pick up the wayward slingshot that had caused all the tumult. Testing the device a few times, he grabbed a pebble and aimed at the nearest tree. "Thwang!" The pebble flew through the air hitting squarely the tree's trunk.

"Let me try," ordered Elizabeth.

Darcy handed her the weapon to watch her aim at an orange colored leaf just hanging on to its branch by the barest of effort. For some reason Elizabeth detested the color. "Thwang!" The leaf was freed of its hold and fell softly to the ground.

Darcy laughed. "Perhaps I should have taken you for sport this morning. You have a better eye than Bingley."

She shook her head at such an absurdity of a woman shooting a rifle, of a gentleman's daughter killing a living thing. Outrageous!

They took the leisurely stroll back through the garden paths and were almost upon the rose garden walks when they heard it. "Yoo-hoo! Mr. Darcy, where are you? I am lost without you." Elizabeth refrained from rolling her eyes.

"I think this is where we should part company, sir. I know Miss Bingley will be out of sorts should she find that we have been together walking without her."

Elizabeth tried to veer off their current path, but Darcy gently took her by the elbow and led her to the sound of that voice. When she gazed up at him she almost laughed at loud. His expression was of near fright at being alone with his hostess before he schooled it with one of mild displeasure.

"Why, Mr. Darcy," she teased as their approach was spotted. "I would never have known you capable to fear anything."

His face remained placid. "I do not fear much, Miss Bennet. However, a female determined on conquest must put one on one's guard."

Here they were interrupted with a greeting of, "Mr. Darcy, and dear Eliza! I had no idea you were both out here for a morning constitutional when I decided to go out myself."

Whether the greeting was sincerely meant for Elizabeth neither conjectured, but each merely responded with their own, and joined the lady clad all in orange down the garden path with her lecturing them on what Mr. Bingley had planned for its renovation.

Where was a swarm when you needed it?

*I have absolutely no idea if this is how bees behave when riled, but thought I use some poetic license here.

Chapter Six

Posted on Saturday, 13 January 2007

The morning broke warm and clear, mildly warm for autumn, and Jane's fever had left her in the middle of the night to have her on her way to a swift recovery, much to Elizabeth's delight. She so informed the party at breakfast that they would soon be departing to not trespass on the Bingley's hospitality for much longer. To this Caroline sighed with relief, unlike her brother, who was well on his way to being in love...again, as Darcy supposed.

Miss Bingley was in such high spirits that she proposed, "It is so lovely out, let us have your last day include an outdoor sport."

"What do you propose, Caroline?"

"I know not. Mr. Darcy, have you a suggestion that we may all participate in on the lawn?" She batted her lashes furiously at the man who ignored it.

He was sipping his coffee to forestall making a reply while all faces turned to him. "There are several games that one could accomplish on such a sunny day. Croquet, field hockey, archery-"

"Yes! That's it, archery. What say you to a bit of target practice?"

Clearly Caroline was proficient at the sport while feigning ignorance to show up both Bennet sisters, or she had ulterior motives for arming herself with arrows.

Bingley argued, "Well, I refuse to have Miss Bennet outside, no matter how sunny the day is. She might relapse and have to..." his voice trailed off as upon sudden reflection, he could have Jane at his house for a longer time should she relapse.

"Yes," she said softly, agreeing with him, "but I could watch from the window in the parlor." She offered further, "and all of you could come near to allow me some conversation between sets while I see who has the better aim." She smiled so sweetly at Bingley he could not refuse her the amusement.

"I will have the servants make ready the targets and set up the table for the bows and such."

Eagerly he jump up from the settee and exited the room to make haste to do his love's bidding.

"Well," Mr. Hurst quipped. "For the life of me, I have never seen Bingley move so fast as when he is on a mission for a lovely lady."

Jane blushed while everyone else nodded or voiced a simple, "Quite."

Darcy asked both the Miss Bennets, "Are either of you proficient in archery?"

There were glimpses exchanged between the two sisters, each shaking their heads at Elizabeth admitting to their being novices as to this particular pastime. "I can safely say that we have never taken up the practice, sir, nor has our father cared to take it up to have his little girls curious of such a sport."

Darcy leaned against the wall sipping his coffee. He was not unduly alarmed by this admission by Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She told him she had never before played billiards and ended up besting him at the game. Somehow, he had the feeling that the lady was anything but inept at whatever competition is put before her. What with four other sisters in the house to contend with, perhaps competition is the name of the game on a daily basis.

Caroline smirk, thinking this will show Mr. Darcy how well accomplished she is in the field sport, something that these little country bumpkins can have no part.

He will see how sophisticated a woman can be and still know how to score on target.

Of course, the target for which she had her eye did not have a bull's eye painted on his back, but he might as well have for all her wish to zero in on it.

After Elizabeth and Bingley were assured that Jane was in no way discomforted to be left alone in the parlor while they took to the lawn outside, they departed through the French doors while Jane waved at them from the large window as she, with the aid of the maid, adjusted the blanket upon her legs to keep herself from being chilled. She smiled and nodded as she gratefully accepted a cup of tea. Knowing her sister's prowess at anything boyish, she hoped her sister would not make a spectacle of yourself.

Caroline and her sister were chosen to go first, testing the tautness of the bow string, selecting the arrows with the cleanest feathers to fly true, adjusting the leather arm brace to keep the ricochet from harming them while Elizabeth observed them, taking up one of the arrows and examining it to see the groove on the end. She watched each in turn place the arrow onto the bow and drew back the string until the arms were near trembling against the strength of the bow. When the arrow was let loose, it sailed across the lawn to find its mark near the center on the haystack target set many yards ahead.

With each attempt Bingley clapped enthusiastically to lend his encouragement to his sisters.

"Now it is your turn, Eliza," said Caroline with insincere sweetness. "You needn't be terribly good at something you have never experienced, just make the attempt is all we ask."

Bingley remained oblivious to this being a snide remark toward Elizabeth, and simply agreed, adding his encouragement to that of his sister. "Yes, yes, Miss Elizabeth. Do try. It is a fun sport once you get the hang of it. Do you need more instruction than what you have already been given?"

"I thank you, no, Mr. Bingley."

It had been embarrassing enough for Miss Bingley to give her cursory instructions on how to hold the bow, how to string the arrow, how to pull back with some precision and a perfunctory explanation on the art of aiming for a target some distance. Then to have first Mr. Bingley, and then worse, Mr. Darcy coming up behind her to correct her elbow by physically touching her, leaning his head close to hers to suggest a how to use her dominant eye on the target, with his again touching her other arm holding the bow, showing her how to set it to an arc that the arrow make the distance. By the time he stepped back, her cheeks were pink with disconcertion at his close proximity.

Miss Bingley, it seemed, was likewise furious that she had not thought to be given such direction, citing, "I think we all would have benefited from such diligence instruction, Mr. Darcy."

Oblivious to what he had done to cause her pique, Darcy merely stated, "You already know the fundamentals of archery, Miss Bingley, having enjoyed the sport for years, and are therefore in no need of such basics. Are you ready, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath as she brought the bow, arrow ready, up to her face and took aim. "I have sufficient information to know what this is about."

Darcy knew exactly what she meant by her words and failed to keep in an audible "ha" just as she was to let fly her arrow, throwing off her aim to have her arrow land close to Bingley's large mastiff who yelped in alarm.

Bingley was affronted, "Darcy, a foul surely! If you truly wish to do away with my dog, there are other more humane ways to go about it."

"I am so sorry, "Elizabeth apologized, walking to the table to replace her bow, ready to give up any other attempts.

Darcy, too, made his own apology. "Bingley, I had no idea...accept my apology, and Miss Bennet," here he glanced her way, "I beg your forgiveness as well for my outburst. Please continue."

"Yes, yes, do," professed Caroline barely able to keep her countenance at such a fiasco, thinking surely the chit will make more of a spectacle to have Mr. Darcy recoil at ever thinking her fine eyes could entice him.

Mrs. Hurst nodded her agreement at being highly diverted, and implored with a barely concealed twitter, "Oh please, Miss Bennet. That was but you first attempt. Do try again."

"Yes," her husband quipped, drolly adding under his breath, "We still have Bingley's other dog to use for target."

Huffing with embarrassment, Elizabeth rose to the challenge of all these people trying to make sport of her, and took the first arrow from the table without even looking at its suitability for flight.

All I have to do is hit the target, never mind the center. Surely that will be enough to keep their cackling at bay.

Taking her stance with bold determination, Elizabeth brought the bow up near her face and pulled back hard on the arrow, her arm trembling as she fought against the strength of the bow to take aim, but remembering Darcy's instruction to lower her elbow to have greater strength so better to aim the arrow. Just before she let it fly, she had the audacity to say just loud enough for Darcy to hear, "Mr. Darcy since you ruined my shot the last time, I think it only fair you forfeit another task to me should I make the center."

His eyes widened at how brazen was her confidence for a sport she had, as yet, to be successful.

Noticing the slight smile gracing her face as her arm trembled, trying to keep her eye on the target, Darcy smiled back, countering, "And if you manage to hit the target but not the center, I will ask a forfeit of you."

Keeping her bow steady, she lifted it ever so slightly and glanced over at him as she released the arrow. "Done."

They all watched as the arrow flew true, slicing the air with such precision no one was surprised to see it hit dead center except the tall man standing by her side. Darcy shook his head in awe at his again underestimating her ability to come through adversity with aplomb. When the servant waved the flag and shouted the confirmation of what they had all just witnessed, Bingley was ecstatic, clapping his approval.

"Good shot, Miss Elizabeth!"

"Beginner's luck," offered Darcy.

To this Bingley had to agree, "But I have yet to see such a shot even from an experienced archer. Is that not so, Caroline?"

Caroline was incensed. "Clearly, Eliza, you have been less than forthright as to being a novice." She threw her bow roughly on the ground to be picked up by one of the servants and approached Elizabeth, for what purpose neither she nor Darcy knew.

Elizabeth herself did not take lightly to her integrity being called into question by the likes of Miss Bingley, and was clearly ready to defend it should it come to more than mere words. "I have never shot a bow and arrow in my life, Miss Bingley. I have, as a child, however, witnessed many of the neighbor boys practicing with their toy ones in the back of the fields so that their Mamas not see."

Miss Bingley further accused, "No doubt letting you practice with them!"

"No! Though I admit to requesting it of them, they would never let me touch their precious weapons since I was a mere girl of seven."

Mrs. Hurst asked in a disbelieving tone, "And that is the extent of your experience with archery?"

"Yes, it is, I swear it," Elizabeth reiterated, turning to the second one to question her veracity.

Darcy and then Bingley came to her rescue with assurances of Elizabeth's talents by related the story the retrieval of his hat from a tree, which did not altogether convince the other two ladies that it had any bearing on her ability at archery.

It was then up to Mr. Hurst to argue the finer points that a good eye for depth perception and linear angles with regard to distance was necessary for making such shots, further explaining that certain individuals inherited, was a quality that few possess.

His rather long-winded appraisal managed to satisfy the men but only succeeded in confusing the minds of his wife and sister to the point that their eyes began to glaze before he finished by complementing Elizabeth with, "So it is that you, Miss Bennet, have the great good fortune to be endowed with an inherited and unique talent for keeping your eye on any target, an accomplishment that will have you go far in the world!"

Caroline exhaled audibly, taking Louisa arm, and made for the nearest door, clearly disliking Eliza Bennet being referred to as accomplished at anything. She huffed, "Well, I have tired of this game. Charles, we are going to the parlor for tea. I hope Miss Bennet has had it kept warm for us."

With noses in the air, the two superior sisters strolled arm in arm quickly out of range, followed by the rotund Mr. Hurst, shaking his head with his final volley of approval towards Elizabeth, "Singular!"

Bingley was busy instructing the servants to put the archery paraphernalia away, and so did not hear Elizabeth's smirk to Darcy. "You lose again, Mr. Darcy."

"I see a pattern forming Miss Bennet," was all he would reply. Clearly, the man did not like being bested so supremely by a mere girl who shows no great adeptness at anything before a wager is made.

They walked leisurely back to the house before he sighed, ready to take what she would have from him. "What shall it be this time then, Miss Bennet? Dancing with mother after all or perhaps now you would have me dance with your father or Bingley's dog that you nearly shot!"

She turned to face him, accusing, "Only because of your interference, sir! As to forfeit, I..." Here she faltered at recognizing his bright eyes confirmed his teasing. "I have yet to think of anything beyond the one you must perform at the Ball, and have to ponder what should be your next one." She turned away in order to continue without the unnerving intensity of his eyes upon her. "You must allow me sufficient time to come up with something of which we can both agree since you have a propensity to balk at many of my suggestions."

"I did not balk at any except the first, which," He held up his hand to prevent her from returning to her first suggestion for this forfeit, "I still refuse to accommodate you on, Miss Bennet."

Here she pouted to have his body send him warning signs to not react to so attractive a target as her full lips and her fiery eyes accosting him before she relented of their pique. She smiled in surrender to his determination not to acquiesce to the first but willing to participate to another suggestion, hurrying into the house ahead of him, shouting over her shoulder, "Very well then, but I shall have you dance at the ball, Mr. Darcy!"

He slowed his step at her statement, and paused at the door smiling, yes, you certainly shall, Miss Bennet.

Chapter Seven -The Netherfield Ball

Posted on Thursday, 15 March 2007

Days prior to the 25th of November held the youngest Bennet sisters in a frenzy of activity, whether it was from trying on dresses, fighting over ribbons or sharing how they wished their hair to be fixed for the ball. All this added chaos was driving their mother to near distraction. As for Mr. Bennet, in order to keep his sanity, he found the need to retreat at an earlier hour into the solitude of his book room. When the ball finally arrived, the man thanked his Lord in heaven, doubting he would have lasted another day!

Their carriages came to a halt in the drive in front of Netherfield with the younger girls hurrying out and up the stairs followed closely by Jane to try to keep them in line for at least a time. Mr. Bennet escorted his wife and middle daughter while Elizabeth followed them through the entrance where an army of servants were being inundated by wraps and topcoats. Mr. Bingley and his sisters, having already greeted most of his neighbors when Mr. and Mrs. Bennet entered the main salon, stepped forward to shake hands with the elder gentleman with all the ladies curtseying in turn.

"Good evening, Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet, Miss Mary, Miss Elizabeth. Good of you to come." Bingley's eyes ventured toward Jane who waited patiently for him to join her.

Mrs. Bennet gushed at his sisters of the wonderful decorations, much to their chagrin, their insincere smiles covering their disdain to all but Elizabeth and perhaps Mr. Bennet. Bingley offered Elizabeth his arm and gathered Jane on the other, replying so only she could hear, "You will find Darcy is in no humor for the festivities." Smiling in a conspiratory way, he added, "As is his usual mien, I am afraid."

To this Elizabeth smiled back. "Oh, I think Mr. Darcy will warm up to such gaiety soon enough," leaving both her companions to wonder at her meaning to her cryptic remark.

As the dancing began, however, the tall frame of Mr. Darcy, normally easily spotted even across a room crowded with people, was nowhere to be seen. Elizabeth wandered around several of the other rooms in search of him before accepting the hand of one of her neighbors for the first dance, and was halfway through the line when she finally spied the enigmatic Mr. Darcy in a corner, staring at her. Giving him a dazzling smile, she danced in a graceful circle around the three others in her grouping before returning to her place in the line.

Thankfully, her partner had been one with some ability, which was not to be her fortune during the second set. Her cousin, Mr. Collins, had procured a dance from each of his fair cousins, intending to make the most of their obliging him by first dancing with Mary. During this second set that was held by Elizabeth for him, he made it known that he intended to repeat the activity with her when his obligations with her sisters were complete.

Having abused her toes abominably and embarrassing her before the neighbors with several missed turns, Elizabeth had no predilection in allowing anything of the sort lest her mother think a partiality was growing between them, and managed to evade both his hands and his lecherous stare as he went in search of Kitty for the next set. Removing to one of the adjoining rooms seems a good idea at the time, but when Elizabeth entered and closed the door, she found the equally reticent Mr. Darcy sitting in a chair in the corner, reading. Without raising his eyes or saying a word, he handed her a book and then went back to his reading.

"I thank you, but no. Books do not interest me currently."

Still unmoved, he asked, "Dare I ask where your reflections tend at present?"

Elizabeth placed the book on the table next to his chair after scanning the title to find it one of her favorite authors, and turned her eyes upon the man. "Do you not have a debt of honor to repay, sir?"

Darcy sighed and closed his book, setting it atop the other that Elizabeth realized must be a set, and probably his own.

"Yes," he finally acknowledged. "Do let us be done with it."

He rose and offered her his arm, which she accepted. Opening the door, the music was just beckoning dancers to the start of the next set. Darcy and Elizabeth took their places in silence, though not without drawing stares and whispers by many in the room. The fact that Elizabeth was beaming did nothing to quell the gossip mill that she had somehow managed what seemed impossible. Mr. Darcy was to dance.

The music began and the dancing commenced with each participant in turn going through the steps of Mr. Beveridge's Maggot. Whether having succumbed to the rhythm of the song, or merely relaxing in his own confidence to be dancing with a partner of equal ability neither could say, but halfway through the set Elizabeth saw a smile break out on Darcy's usually austere face to have her in such astonishment that she could not fail to remark on it when they drew near enough for words.

"Why, Mr. Darcy, you can smile. I made a bet with one of my younger sisters that it was beyond you."

His turning steps prevented her from seeing him roll his eyes before he came near again to respond. "Which side did you take, Miss Bennet?"

"Why the positive one, of course," she said as their group promenaded around in a circle, adding, "For I have already witnessed you expressing that ability, and at sometime or other knew you would show it to the world. I am glad that I wagered as I did for now I am now the new owner of a lovely pink ribbon."

"You wagered that my being able to smile was not out of the realm of possibility," he scoffed as though he felt the bet frivolous.

"Mr. Darcy, I am sure you know what an intimidating figure you project with your never giving way to a pleasanter countenance as when a smile spreads across your face."

"Are you insinuating that no one in Meryton has ever seen me smile, Miss Bennet?"

"Not merely insinuating, Mr. Darcy, but saying outright. I doubt besides myself, you will find more than four others in this very room who can say that they have witnessed it."

"Is that a bet, Miss Bennet?"

Sure of her victory, she nodded, knowing that other than his friend, and the Hursts, and perhaps Miss Bingley, there were few in the whole of the village that had courage enough to even speak to Mr. Darcy much less give him cause to grace them with one of his seldom seen smiles.

The set came to an end at that moment with Darcy taking her hand to escort her back to her party, which included Bingley standing near Jane. Darcy bowed, and standing before the elder sister, asked, "Miss Bennet, I would ask an odd question of you to satisfy your sister's curiosity."

Jane looked at him rather dubiously, but nodded.

"Have you, in the whole of our acquaintance, ever made note of a smile gracing my face?"

"Why, yes, Mr. Darcy."

"Jane!" Elizabeth had been so sure that her sister would answer in the negative that she was quite taken aback when Jane denied her a victory.

Her elder sister's cheek blushed as she furthered related of the gentleman, "There were several occasions as I recuperated at Netherfield when I saw you smiling while gazing from a window. Once I was allowed down stairs into the library to sit by the fire, I saw you reading, your face bathed in a soft expression that could only be construed as a smile."

Elizabeth did not know what to say at Jane's glowing reply. She admonished her sister in a teasing manner. "Why did you never tell me that Mr. Darcy could smile?"

Here Jane gazed at her sister a warm smile of her own. "I did not know it was of any great import, and as it was such a seldom occurrence, I merely enjoyed the witnessing of it."

Darcy's smug gaze of triumph annoyed Elizabeth, especially when he, in offering to go for refreshments, leaned near enough for only her ears, "I will think on what you must forfeit to me, and inform you at a later time, Miss Bennet."

Neither Jane nor Bingley could guess what Darcy had said to Elizabeth to cause the color rise on her cheeks before she smiled at them, and turned to find her friend, Charlotte.

After Darcy had fulfilled his obligatory dance with Elizabeth, he had it in mind to complete his other by dancing with her again, and strode over to where she stood with her sister and Bingley. Asking her to accompany him to the punch bowl, he sheepishly admitted, "I did not realize dancing with you would be as pleasurable as I had first believed, Miss Bennet, and wish another."

Smiling, she held her cup to allow him to pour the punch, and sipped it saying, "I would not wish to overtax you, sir. Having so rarely participated in the activity, we country folk might have to carry you above stairs from exhaustion."

"I exert myself in a far greater manner during fencing exercises, Miss Bennet, and am in no way taxed." He offered his hand which she refused to take, which surprised him. "If you will not dance with me perhaps I should find another partner more willing?"

He saw the slight arching of her brow as she called his bluff. "I thank you, no, although having said such prevents me from the activity for the rest of the evening as well, no matter who asks."

"Fortunately I am not bound by similar restrictions." He turned from her to walk determinedly toward a group of ladies.

Elizabeth's eyes widened at the beginning of the next set when he saw Darcy's tall stature in the midst of the line. Her mouth dropped open in a gasp at seeing her sister Mary across from him, having accepted to stand up with him when Elizabeth would not. Before she could reflect on how this could be, her mother was at her side, relating in a whisper, "Oh Lizzy! Is this not a night to remember when a man of Mr. Darcy's stature offers to dance with our Mary? Mary, of all people! I say, I know not what he sees in her."

"Perhaps he merely wishes another dance and she was the first to accept."

"Oh, how can you be so tiresome? He would not have asked her if he had no interest, surely. No, mark my words; there is more to this Mr. Darcy than meets the eye."

Of that at least we are in agreement, Mama.

Elizabeth watched the dancers swirl and prance about the room, but refrained from pacing down the aisle behind the onlookers as Darcy ignored her stare. Soon she tired of the activity and made her way out onto the balcony for a bit of fresh air. A half hour later that was where he discovered her, leaning over the railing in a thoughtful repose. The music swelled as the door opened and closed signaling the last of the sets before dinner.

Joining her silently at the rail, they both enjoyed the sounds of the evening and the music drifting out from the house until he was forced to concede.

"You were right."

Her voice was laughing at him. "Yes, of course I was." A pause. "Which part?"

"All Bennet ladies love to dance."

She glanced over to him to ask his meaning, to which he replied, "You missed seeing your cousin and I dancing with your sisters."

She looked out at the gardens, most of the beds mulched and buried for the coming winter, smiling at the mental image he presented. "Having personally experienced the abilities of my cousin, I do not have to imagine the figure he would cut. I did witness you with Mary, and wondered on what subject she would opine in the time it took for the set."

Darcy played idly with a branch clinging to the railing. "She extolled the merits of Reverend Fordyce and his reluctance to give dancing any credence towards religious fulfillment."

Elizabeth could not but laugh at this very diplomatic statement from a man who most times said so very little, that she could hardly make out his character, but she was sure of her own sister's disposition. "She was dancing while stating that she disapproved of it because her mentor did not think it a virtuous pastime? Yes, that sounds very much how Mary would conduct herself. I hope you did not take offense."

"Not at all. I found it quite intriguing that for one who did not condone the activity to be so remarkably graceful and sure of step."

"Unlike our cousin's lack of prowess," Elizabeth moaned, wondering which of her sisters Mr. Collins had under foot.

After a pause at not knowing how to respond to such a statement, Darcy admitted, "I found this evening's experience not so very bad as I had imagined it would be."

"Why, Mr. Darcy! Are you actually admitting you were wrong in your assessment?" She pursed her lips to keep from laughing aloud.

"There was one partner I found exceptionably agile and yes, I admit I would not mind repeating the experience if she would do me the honor of another dance."

Elizabeth sighed. "You have fulfilled the obligation of your forfeit, Mr. Darcy, and have no need to-"

"Dance with me again, Elizabeth."

Unaware of his use of so familiar an address, she teased, "I told you, once a lady refuses a gentleman, she cannot resend it else all the other gentlemen will be free to ask her."

"This is the last dance before supper. You have no fear of anyone else asking for the privilege." He offered her his hand.

"You are persistent, Mr. Darcy," she said, allowing him to pull her close, beginning to dance the waltz in the center of the balcony in time with the defused music from the house. This disconcerted her not only by the fact they were not on a dance floor, but that he held her so near his person while twirling her in the dance step that she had never before attempted but could easily follow as if they had danced frequently with one another.

He sensed her uneasiness. "You have never danced a waltz, Miss Bennet?"

"No, sir. I can truthfully say before now that I have not."

Darcy could not help but be in awe at her natural abilities, so like his own, and glad he was the man she chose to allow to give her many new experiences, especially this one. How comfortable it seemed for him to dance with her, near enough to inhale the lavender perfume scenting her hair, feel the warmth of her back through his glove, have her hand in his, the slender fingers clinging to his to keep her steady.

I have never wished a woman this near me since...

He could not recall a time since his mother' death when he wanted to be in such proximity to a woman other than his sister or Richard's younger sisters, a feeling altogether different than the current one.

They had not danced long more before Elizabeth brought him out of his reverie with, "Mr. Darcy, I fear we had best stop in case someone comes out in search for one or both of us."

Reluctantly he stopped, but still held her close. "Yes, the music seems to be nearing the end."

"Sir, I thank you for the dance," she replied, stepping out of his arms and curtseying.

"It was my pleasure, Miss Bennet," he acknowledged with a bow, adding mischievously, "but this does not negate your forfeit to me."

She turned at the door, a pert smile on her face. "Of that I was certain, Mr. Darcy."

The ride home was one of calamitous talking of all that had transpired at the ball, which Elizabeth tried to tune out. Thankfully, she was spared having to say much with Lydia and Kitty carrying the day with non-stop conversation with their mother, who was beside herself with excitement. It was not until a knock came on her bedchamber door when Jane stole into her room later that gave Elizabeth a true sense of what had occurred in her absence on the balcony.

"Mr. Darcy was in his element when dancing, Lizzy. He even asked Mama if she cared to join him!"

Elizabeth was in astonishment. "What?"

"Of course, she refused him, wishing him to dance with one of her younger, unmarried daughters. Oh, Lizzy, I was so embarrassed for him when she refused, especially with Papa smirking and making a remark that she is in danger of being too pretty still not to attract handsome men. For his part, Mr. Darcy he did not appeared at all affronted, and merely then asked Mary. Oh, Lizzy, you should have seen our younger sister's face light up with his offer! I know we have not fairly given Mary her due of sisterly affection, but Mr. Darcy made her feel quite happy when they danced down the line."

"I did see her face, Jane, and was glad for her to have at least one good memory from this night."

"But, Lizzy, where did you go? I could not find you anywhere in the other rooms afterwards."

"I went out on the balcony for some air."

"I believe Caroline remarked that Mr. Darcy seemed to have disappeared too. Mr. Bingley whispered a joke that his sister would have set the hounds out in search of him if he did not soon show himself. I did not know what to say in reply, and had not dear Lizzy beside me to make a pert retort." Her cheeks were pink when she added, "Oh, Lizzy, is he not the most amiable man of our acquaintance?" Jane sighed. Her expression took on a dream-like quality that possesses all young ladies when speaking of a beloved.

Elizabeth smiled and acknowledged, "Yes, dear Jane, he is just what a gentleman ought to be. I give you leave to like him. He is a much better catch than many the neighbors' son who has shown you interest."

"Oh, Lizzy, do I dare hope?"

"From what I have witnessed of his behavior towards you, I would say you both are well on your way to being hopelessly in love."

Pleased with her sister's confirmation, Jane hugged Elizabeth. "Good night, Lizzy."

"Sweet dreams, dear Jane."

Chapter Eight - Elizabeth was livid!

Posted on Monday, 19 March 2007

She stalked out with purposeful determination to remove herself from the house as quickly as her legs would propel her. So upset with her mother and the inane obtuseness of the man, Elizabeth could not think sensibly enough to be civil to anyone and had to take her leave lest she do bodily harm to one or the other of them.

Marching with resolve, she planned to walk to...to London if need be to quell her anger at the insupportable situation her mother had placed her.

In no uncertain terms can I accept the offer made by Mr. Collins, no matter how much Mama insists upon it!

So incensed was her current state of ire that she was unaware of having walked nearly three miles. Pausing, she heard her name being called. Stopping to get her bearings and identify the speaker, Elizabeth realized she was nigh upon the entrance to Netherfield, and the speaker was none other than Mr. Darcy, obviously out on a ramble of his own into the countryside.

"Miss Bennet, I-" He took note of her being obviously upset and asked, "Shall I accompany you to Longbourn to have you-"

"No!" She took a deep breath before she continued in a calmer voice, "No, I thank you, Mr. Darcy, but I am in no mood for civility, but I do thank you for the offer."

She turned to leave him. Within a brief span of seconds she found him beside her, reluctant to leave the lady in her current state without offering aid. "Where, pray, are you about?"

"London."

His brow arched in amused astonishment. "On foot?"

She huffed, "As you see."

He nodded his head, pursing his lips to keep his smile from erupting. "Then...may I join you that you not traverse the countryside without an escort?"

Elizabeth only paused for the instant to take in another breath, which did not calm her pique before replying, "If you do not require civility, then yes, you may."

They turned their steps toward the path in utter silence, her darken mood slowly lifting the greater the distance they acquired from Longbourn. Other than professing her avowal to walk all the way to London, no matter that the direction be contrary to one in which they trod, Elizabeth remained quiet. Noticing that she seemed not to be walking randomly but with a specific destination in mind, Darcy kept his own counsel as to where exactly they were headed as they continued on in relative silence until she turned into a well worn path that inclined upwards.

Soon they were atop the outcropping of Oakham Mount, from which a vista spread before them from its height relative to the gentle sloping landscape of Hertfordshire. Here, Elizabeth paused to scramble onto a large boulder with Darcy following. Sitting exposed to the wind and sunshine that had broken through the autumn clouds, she took in several deep breaths. Exhaling, her mood began to return to one more pleasant and usual to her norm. Darcy sat next to her, holding onto the brim of his beaver hat lest he, like Bingley, sacrifice a piece of headgear to the tenacious English breeze.

Without need for words, Elizabeth and Darcy merely sat upon the rocks and gazed out into the wonderful scene below them. Netherfield and its surrounding farms were clearly visible to show it off to greatest advantage.

This is where the previous owners should have taken Bingley to seal the deal of the lease, for who could resist a sight such as this?

Longbourn House, too, could be seen with the smoke billowing from the chimneys, rising to tell all around that the great house was occupied.

It did not take Elizabeth long to return to speech, as she was one who found words comforting at times. "I thank you for joining me on this walk, though I have been poor company."

"You were upset enough to think of walking all the way to town. How could I, as a gentleman, allow you to attempt such a journey without protection?"

"I should have you know the reason for the need to absence myself from my home for a time, for it will not be long before the whole neighborhood is informed. It is the least I can do when you have been so kind as to wish to escort one so ill suited for company."

"That is not necessary, Miss Bennet. To have you safe is reward enough, that and the opportunity to view Hertfordshire from an obviously well loved vantage point."

She pulled at one of the long stalks of grass overgrown by their feet. "Mr. Collins has made me an offer of marriage, and Mama insists I accept him."

"What?" Darcy was askance at the audacity of that little toad.

Elizabeth hurriedly continued. "Of course, I refused him! He seemed not to hear me when I told him that I could not, in good conscience, accept him due to our differences in temperament, in disposition, in-" Darcy's thoughts finished her sentence.

...his unsuitability! How could the man think so well of himself to offer for Elizabeth?

Reining in his own emotions, Darcy tried to remain calm in the face of so disconcerting a revelation. "I gathered from what Bingley told me that Longbourn is entailed to Mr. Collins. Is that his purpose in wishing a wife from one of his cousins, to keep the estate in your family?"

She nodded. "My mother obviously seems to harbor a similar opinion. If she were to procure one of her daughters as a wife to Mr. Collins, she would never want for security for the rest of her life." Elizabeth sighed. "It is not an unreasonable assumption that it was his sole purpose in traveling all the way from Hunsford to visit with us. When seen in a provincial light, a match to Mr. Collins by any of my sisters would be deemed ample reason for celebration..." Darcy gazed over to her warily.

Oh, Lord! Is she now re- considering becoming wife to that...

Here even Darcy's vast vocabulary failed him to pick adequate words to describe whom he viewed with such loathing. He swallowed, needing to hear again her denial. "But you refused him! You said you told him so, and your mother as well?"

"Yes, and so began the onslaught by Mama insisting that I accept my cousin until I could abide no longer being in the same house with her, and resolved to stay with my aunt and uncle in Cheapside."

"Thus began the walk about to London?"

"Exactly," pausing, she asked, "How far away is London from our present location?"

Darcy gazed high above the beautiful vista to get his bearings with the sun, and replied, "About fifty miles that way," pointing in the opposite direction.

At realizing she had not gotten any further than she had ever walked from her home, Elizabeth began to laugh at the ridiculous notion of her being able to walk all the way to town.

"I would offer to take you to London, if you truly wish to be away from your family. Bingley has business that takes him there for a few days, and both his sisters have expressed an interest in returning to the Hurst townhouse for a time. There would be ample room in the carriage with its relative safety should you need a ride."

Elizabeth thought long on this statement, which caused her several questions of her own to ask in return, but merely said, "That is very kind of you, Mr. Darcy, but..."

"You think your father would disapprove?"

"No, I doubt he would be concerned about propriety should I take you up on your offer. Actually, now that I have calmed enough to reason, so drastic a decision mightn't be necessary after all."

"What do you mean?"

"I have reason to hope that Papa will take my side in this matter after I explain my position, and so oppose my mother to have me be denied the privilege of marriage to our cousin."

"You are sure he will not insist upon it in order to keep your estate in the family?" There was no way Darcy would allow Elizabeth to be in the clutches of so plebian a man even if he had to force her into Bingley's carriage himself.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy," she assured him. "Now that I can think in a rational manner, I am reminded of the way Papa has amused himself by encouraging many of his cousin's nonsensical pronouncements, but the thought of having Mr. Collins a closer relation than a cousin might not sit too well with him. As his favorite, I am now positive that he will see reason even if Mama does not. To have Mr. Collins a suitor after I have already so vigorously refused him would give Papa some distress, and that he will not allow no matter how much Mama protests."

Darcy relaxed.

It is good to know that another in the family possesses some good sense!

"I thank you, sir."

"For what?"

"For allowing me the solitude to work things out on my own without feeling the need to lecture me on family duty or responsibilities, which my own mind has given me no peace."

"Had you been more amenable to the union, you might have heard more of an argument from me," he confessed.

"Indeed? Then you do not think me witty enough to make my own decision in the matter?"

Her arched brow and twinkling eyes meant she was teasing him, and he reciprocated. "Oh, I think you have wit enough, Miss Bennet, more than some I have met in my travels. Had you determined to be a curate's wife, you would have made the best of it with all your accomplishments of the womanly persuasion."

Elizabeth laughed as she recited, "Performing my wifely duties along with caring for a house, planning menus, keeping an eye on the servants, the livestock and the poultry? Then there are the other womanly pursuits such as needlepoint and music and the painting of screens?"

"Yes, I dare say, the woman of the house has her day fixed with all her duties, including sewing and the like."

"Rather than manly pursuits such as riding, hunting and fencing that you said you participate in as a form of exercise?" Here she paused before adding mischievously, "Do you think you are up to the challenge of any less than manly endeavor, Mr. Darcy?"

"I beg your pardon?" This conversation seems vaguely familiar, but had suddenly tended to a decidedly alternate bent.

"I have just decided what your forfeit will be."

"Pray, what would you have me do?"

"Embroidery."

He chuckled at the notion. "What?"

"I would have you attempt to stitch a flower in one of the samplers that are in the basket of our parlor at Longbourn. After I have given you adequate instruction, you will sit by the fire until you accomplish the task or admit that you have not the ability."

"I will do no such thing! Tisn't a..."

Seeing him flustered, she asked, "...a manly pursuit? Are you saying that your tailor is not a person of your persuasion because of his profession?"

"Yes! No! I would not presume to say such a thing of someone I know so little about except as to his profession. You are twisting my meaning."

"Your tailor does sew your garments, does he not?"

"I would assume so, yes."

"And by your own admission,is not unmanly for having such a profession, is he?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Then, if you attempt to put needle and thread to fabric,likewise, you would not think yourself unmanly, would you?"

"Of course not, but-"

"Then it is what I wish for you do as your forfeit."

"I..." Darcy could think of nothing further to make as argument against her wish, but insisted, "Your younger sisters are not to know of this attempt."

Elizabeth smiled. She had him, and added her assurance, "Only Jane will serve as chaperone and judge for your handiwork."

"Our handiwork, Miss Bennet. If I am to be made to sew, you must likewise join me in the attempt, with the victor winning another forfeit. Although, now that I think on it, perhaps you will have an unfair advantage for having already embroidered for...most of your life..."

She closed her eyes wishing never again to be at the mercy of a sharp sewing needle to the degree that she considered rescinding her insistence of it. At catching her pout, Darcy inwardly gloated, thinking her prowess with a needle might not be what he first presumed.

We might be on a more even playing field this time.

He could see her hesitation, correctly guessing that sewing was not her forte, glad that they would be made to suffer together in this endeavor and so continued to taunt her. "Are we in agreement, Miss Bennet?"

Opening her eyes to see the smug expression that he failed to school brought out her competitive nature. "Touché, Mr. Darcy. Yes, I agree to join you in embroidering with Jane as our judge. The loser will concede a forfeit of the winner's choosing."

As they made their way back to the lower paths toward Meryton, a smile overspread his face not only from his success at forcing her into joining him in this unmanly endeavor, but that she had given him an idea of the forfeit he would ask of her when he won. Seeing her continued regret over her concurrence to this forfeit, he felt his confidence was not unfounded.

These challenge should prove to be a most diverting pastime.

Continued in Next Section