Beginning, Section II, Next Section

Part the Eighth

Posted on Monday, 12 August 2002, at 2:30 p.m.

Darcy sat his desk and took up his pen. A letter to Bingley was indeed in order, after what he had learned the day before. That he himself might benefit from it, he knew was possible, but his main motivation was that his friend needed to hear the news. Bingley had not been himself these last few months. He was strangely distracted at social functions, and did not dance and chatter with all the young debutantes with the same carefree animation as he was used to. His sister had tied him to her side, refusing the offers of chaperonage from two very respectable matrons who were old family friends. Bingley did not mention Jane Bennet, and Darcy did not like to bring the subject up, but indeed he could see no other reasonable explanation then that Charles was truly in love and missing her badly. Darcy had expected him to run back to Hertfordshire within a month of leaving it, but now it was quite apparent that Caroline had been practising deceit. She had kept Miss Jane's presence in London a secret from both of them, and who could tell what other falsehoods she had been using to influence him.

My Dear Bingley:

I am sure you had not expected to hear from me quite so soon. I have some news to impart that should interest you. Upon arriving at Rosings I discovered that an acquaintance of ours was visiting her friend, Mrs Collins, at the parsonage of Hunsford. I am referring to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I went to pay her my respects yesterday and she informed me that her sister, Miss Jane Bennet, has been staying with her aunt and uncle in London these few months. You must imagine my surprise. I do not wish to speak ill of your sister, but she was aware of this and visits were exchanged. Why your sister resorted to this secrecy, I will not speculate on, but I think you should lose no time in calling on Miss Bennet. I understand than when Miss Elizabeth's visit here is over in a month's time, she will join her sister and they will return to Hertfordshire. She is staying at the home of Mr Gardiner in Gracechurch Street. You should be able to discover the address quite easily without applying to your sister. I wouldn't inform her of your proposed visit until after the event. I am tired of seeing you sit like a lost soul in your library, staring out the windows. Visit the girl!
With all my best hopes for your future happiness,

Darcy

He sealed the letter and rang for the servant. It was only after he had sent the letter off that he recollected it had been he himself who had been staring out library windows like a lost soul.

Lizzie and Charlotte sat in the small parlour; the morning was dreary with drizzling rain and they had to forego their usual walk. Maria had retired to her own room to go through her wardrobe and decide what was best to wear to Rosings that night. It had been almost a week since the gentlemen had come and called. Lizzie had met Colonel Fitzwilliam on her walks in Rosings Park on three occasions, and once he had been accompanied by Mr Darcy. She enjoyed the company of the Colonel. He was open and natural and conversed easily on any topic. He had a light, teasing manner that she found very appealing, and their laughter mingled with a warmth that gave rise to a quick friendship. Mr Darcy was still solemn and quiet for the most part, but he would surprise her occasionally with a subtle rejoinder, that showed his quick wit and attention to the conversation. He appeared much more at ease than on the first occasion, and when his eyes rested on her they were filled with a warmth that she found disturbing. On taking leave of her at the park paling, he had enquired if she walked that way often, she informed him that it was her favourite walk.

"It has become mine too," teased the Colonel.

"So that is why I can never find you," said Darcy dryly.

"Yes, Miss Bennet's company is most entrancing."

Elizabeth coloured thinking of this exchange, as she had coloured then. Mr Darcy had looked at her most fixedly, a look of concern on his face. Again she chided herself for colouring like a schoolgirl. She had been embarrassed by the Colonel's words in case Mr Darcy should take them wrongly, and her blush seemed to confirm the exact interpretation she did not want him to make. Now he would think her attracted to the Colonel, possibly even setting her cap at him. She enjoyed the Colonel's company, most assuredly, but it was Mr Darcy she wanted to be talking to in that open and easy manner, Mr Darcy who she thought about when she laid her head down upon her pillow every night.

Charlotte placed her book on the table.

"This rain is indeed unfortunate. You have missed your walk and the Colonel will be disappointed. But he will of course see you this evening. I suggest you wear your ivory silk with the ecru lace, and we can put some of those sweet yellow primulas that we gathered this morning in your hair."

"Charlotte! I like Colonel Fitzwilliam very well, but I am not . . . trying to encourage his attentions," cried Elizabeth, taken aback.

"Oh Lizzie! He is a very eligible gentleman, so why not encourage him. He appears to be very attracted to you. And if you do not catch his attention you may just interest Mr Darcy."

"Charlotte! I have no intention to interest anybody!"

"Lizzie, you have an advantage here that you would do well to pursue. The gentlemen are bored at Rosings with only Lady Catherine and Miss Anne, who is kept under her mother's thumb. You are the only attractive young lady around and they are in need of entertainment. You will be able to monopolise their attention, and should easily be able to make one of them in love with you before the month is out."

"You cannot be serious," said Lizzie, smiling at her friend. "If my intent in visiting you was to find myself a husband, that would be a good plan. As it is, I do not want to entrap anyone into marriage."

"Lizzie consider the opportunity you so lightly dismiss. With Jane's prospects with Mr Bingley so uncertain, you must needs consider your duty to your mother to establish yourself with some credit. I don't like to speak of the entail for obvious reasons, but it is not something you should forget. With either one of these gentlemen you would establish yourself very creditably indeed."

"Do not forget, Charlotte, that though I am a gentleman's daughter, my connections are very much below the gentlemen to whom you refer. Colonel Fitzwilliam may enjoy flirting with me, but when it comes to marriage he will act sensibly and marry within his sphere. And as for me, I will only marry for love. Let one of my other sisters marry to improve the family fortunes."

Charlotte gave up the matter and the two friends talked instead of parish concerns, but she noted with interest that Lizzie had not mentioned Mr Darcy's name at all in her protestations. Perhaps it was better not to raise Lizzie's hopes in that direction because her want of connections was a very strong consideration. If only Marcus Collins had come. With the size of his estate he would make Lizzie an ideal husband, and who is to say she wouldn't fall in love with him?

That evening, Lizzie stood fast against putting the flowers in her hair, and threaded a simple ribbon through instead. She wore a sage green muslin with pale yellow trimmings, and a plain gold locket about her neck. The idea that she should dress to please the gentlemen distressed her. After the look Mr Darcy had given her at the end of their walk, she would not have him thinking that she was making a play for his cousin. She was a little subdued on their first arrival at Rosings, but her earlier concerns soon evaporated as the evening wore on. It was hard to restrain her playful nature. All Lizzie's deliberations over her dress were, however, to no avail, because when both gentlemen beheld her they thought her very lovely, and admired her all the more for her lack of adornment. They both sat close to her and entered into a conversation of which the Colonel had the largest share.

"Miss Bennet," said Lady Catherine, interrupting Colonel Fitzwilliam. "I feel the need for some music. Though you don't play so very well, I would wish you to play us a few short pieces."

"If my playing is so very ill, are you sure that you or the gentlemen will want to listen, being used to so much better?"

"Mrs Jenkinson is busy with Anne at the moment, so you will have to do," said Lady Catherine condescendingly.

"I have had the pleasure of hearing Miss Elizabeth Bennet play," said Mr Darcy, "and have never found her performance to be lacking."

"She does not play so very ill, I will grant you," said Lady Catherine as Elizabeth took up the seat at the instrument, "but she does need to practice much more if she ever hopes to be proficient. I have offered her the use of the pianoforte in Mrs Jenkinson's room at any time she likes but she has not seen fit to accept my kind offer."

Mr Darcy looked at his aunt with heightened colour, but held back the retort that had formed at his lips. As Lizzie started to play he drew near the piano.

"Oho Darcy! Coming in such state to hear Miss Bennet play," teased his cousin who was attending Elizabeth to turn her pages.

"He shall not make me nervous," said Lizzie, smiling at Darcy, "though he is used to all the finest playing in London society."

His countenance softened. "Your playing could do nothing but give me pleasure," he said softly.

Lizzie coloured and turned her attention to the keys lest she should trip up in her playing. Colonel Fitzwilliam looked from Darcy to Lizzie and felt a pang of jealousy. Hadn't his cousin denied an interest? Well he was not going to be done out by Darcy, especially with the way Darcy usually acted, so serious and reserved.

"Your playing is much improved tonight, Miss Bennet," called out Lady Catherine, disappointed that the gentlemen had both gone over by the piano and not wanting to be anything other than the focal point of the whole party. "If only Anne had been well enough to learn, Darcy, she would have been a lovely pianist, and I, with my deep love and understanding of music, I would have been a true proficient."

"It is a pity then, Aunt, that you did not learn," said Darcy dryly, "but at the moment Miss Elizabeth is playing and I think we should all pay her the respect of listening." He took a spot over by the wall and leant against it, looking absorbedly at Elizabeth at the piano.

Lady Catherine closed her mouth in astonishment, and at the end of the piece called out, "Thank you so much for entertaining us Miss Bennet, now let us all sit down to some cards."

They played at cards the rest of the evening. Lady Catherine had engineered to have Darcy, the Colonel, and Charlotte at her table. Lizzie, seated with Mr Collins, Mrs Jenkinson, and Anne, had an evening of very inferior card playing. She would have liked to converse a little with Miss Anne, but they only managed a few smiles and friendly looks as Mr Collins launched into a monologue that endured as long as the card game itself.

The next morning, Lizzie went out for her walk at the customary time. Instead of entering the park as she usually did she walked toward the home wood. Here there were some pleasant trails among the old oaks, and she walked in solitude, deep in thought. The Colonel would be sure to be looking for her on her usual walk, and though she enjoyed walking with him tremendously, she was afraid that it would appear that she walked out only in the hopes of meeting him. She walked, remembering Mr Darcy's defence of her against his aunt. She had been very gratified at what he had said. In fact his whole behaviour towards her last evening had been relaxed and open. When he had stood watching her play, his expression had been warm and admiring. She felt a warm glow thinking of how his eyes had looked, darkly green in the candlelight, and his softened expression with just the hint of a smile.

"Miss Elizabeth, I am so glad to have encountered you."
Lizzie looked up to see Mr Darcy astride a large grey horse.

"Have I startled you?"

"I'm sorry, I was so deep in thought that I did not hear your approach."

"May I join you?" asked Darcy, sliding down from his horse.

"Of course."

"I had been hoping to see you. You were not in the park this morning; I went there in search of you."

"No, I . . . felt the impulse to explore the woods."

"Then I am in luck that this is one of my favourite places. I have something particular to tell you. I hope you will not think me impertinent, bringing up a subject that on another occasion caused you some consternation," said Darcy with some diffidence.

Lizzie looked up at him, confused. "I do not recall . . . "

Darcy hesitated, and then continued, "Do you recall when we danced at Bingley's ball, and you asked me about my betrothal?"

Lizzie blushed, and Darcy, with heightened colour as well, took this as encouragement enough to continue.

"You very rightly showed me that in dismissing the betrothal as nothing, I was not acting honourably. I had never thought how my cousin regarded it until you asked me."

"I did not think my words had made such an impression on you," said Lizzie.

"Not only your words but your obvious disapproval of my behaviour."

Lizzie turned her head away, not able to meet his eyes. Is that what he had thought at the time?

"When I arrived here, I sought my cousin out to discover how she did indeed feel about the engagement. I realised from what you said that if she did feel she was promised to me, it changed the perspective of the whole case."

Lizzie felt a strong apprehension. Did this mean that if his cousin wanted it he would honour the betrothal? She had been a fool to ever think of him. "And what did she say?" How could Anne have said anything but that she wanted to marry him? It was her mother's dearest wish, and if she was not in love with her cousin, she would still marry to please her mother and to follow convention. Lizzie wanted to run deep into the woods, but she could not make such a fool of herself, so she steeled herself for his answer.

"She quite startled me by saying she did not want to marry me. At first I thought she might have said that so that I did not need to feel obliged to honour the betrothal, but it turns out that she, that quiet little creature, is secretly engaged herself."

"What?" cried Lizzie in surprise.

"I was as surprised as you are," said Darcy, "but she assured me that she is in love and engaged. As it is secret I asked her if I could tell you, without any particulars, and I know I can depend on your discretion."

"Thank you. I will, of course, tell no-one."

"I hope you no longer think me dishonourable."

"No . . . I . . ." said Lizzie in some embarrassment.

"Is there anything more you would like to ask, or are you perfectly satisfied now that I am unbetrothed?" asked Darcy, colouring yet again.

Lizzie got up her courage and looked at him, "Only this. What would you have done if Miss Anne had said she wanted to marry you?"

Darcy looked away. "I really do not know. I would like to live up to your expectations of my honour and say that I would have felt duty bound. But I do not honestly think I would have."

They walked along together in silence for a few moments, both embarrassed by the intimate nature of their discussion, and unable to broach another topic of discussion. Darcy felt all the impertinence of bringing up such a subject, and though he was unequal to continue talking of anything at all, or even meeting Elizabeth's eyes again, he was glad that he had forced himself to make the disclosure. He hoped that Elizabeth would begin to think better of him now.

"I beg your pardon for the interruption of your walk," said Darcy. "I will leave you to continue it in solitude."

"It does not follow that the interruption was unwelcome," said Lizzie quietly as Darcy mounted his horse and rode off. She turned at once and walked on so as not to see if he looked back or not. She was in total confusion. What had he meant by telling her all this? Was he letting her know that he was free, that he was interested in her, or was it only for his avowed reason? Could he really not care about her connections? Did he feel something for her? She could not let herself even consider the question that followed, she could not bear to face the hurt she would suffer if she was wrong.

Part the Ninth

Posted on Thursday, 15 August 2002, at 10:51 p.m.

Lizzie was afraid to read too much into this meeting, but in truth she cherished every word and every look that Mr Darcy had bestowed upon her. He had not seemed comfortable, but he had honoured her with disclosures of such a nature that showed her that her words and opinions mattered to him, and that he also respected her to keep his confidence. This surely spoke of much more than indifference. On the next few occasions that they met he was relaxed and he conversed more easily with her and even the rest of the company. Colonel Fitzwilliam continued to be attentive and talkative, and Lizzie found herself enjoying her visit more than she had ever anticipated.

One morning she received a letter from Jane that warmed her heart and brought her so much happiness she was overflowing. Mr Bingley had visited Jane, and only because Mr Darcy had written to tell him that Jane was in town! Lizzie had not even imagined that he would write to him. Now Jane was so happy because Mr Bingley was visiting her every day and appeared just as in love as ever. That Mr Darcy should have been the means to bring so much happiness to her sister! Lizzie was overcome with joy and could think of nothing else, but kept her news to herself at the parsonage because Jane had expressly requested it, not wanting to be at the centre of marital speculation again until there was no longer any need for speculation.

Lizzie tucked the letter in her pocket and ran out of the parsonage and into the park before Charlotte had time to question her about her bright eyes and glowing complexion. The day was clear and sunny; March was turning into April and the walks of the park were bordered with spring flowers. Lizzie sank into a bank of lily of the valley and breathed in the sweet aroma. She was occupied in picking a small bouquet when Darcy and the Colonel came upon her.

They both stopped, awed by the picture that she made in her pale gown, her dark head bent over the flowers, a shiny tendril curling down across her neck. She looked up, and the sweetness of her expression made Darcy feel that he had never thought of her before with the depth of feeling as he did at that moment. There was nothing else for him in that moment but the smile that came to her face and the words that unconsciously burst from her lips.

"I had been do hoping to see you."

Both gentlemen hoped that the words were meant for them.

"No, Don't get up Miss Bennet," said Colonel Fitzwilliam. "You look so charming with the flowers. We'll sit on the ground and join you." And he sat next to Lizzie, picking a flower and twirling it between two fingers.
Darcy sat on the other side of the patch of lily of the valley, where he could gaze at Elizabeth.

"Mr Darcy, I must thank you for your kindness in informing Mr Bingley that my sister is in town. His visits have made her very happy." Lizzie blushed at her forwardness.

"I did have my friend's happiness to think of," said Darcy, knowing that it was not only his friend's happiness that had benefited from this kind deed, but his own. The look Elizabeth had given him was most rewarding . . . but it rendered him speechless for a few moments by the surge of emotions that it raised.

The Colonel saw his chance. The conversation was going too much Darcy's way for his liking. He had the best situation, sitting close to Miss Bennet, and he needed to use it to his advantage. He immediately turned the subject, expertly conversing in a light and entertaining manner. He suggested they continue the walk and helped Elizabeth to her feet as Darcy looked on, wishing he had been the one to take her hand and pull her up. Elizabeth's spirits were so high that she smiled upon the Colonel as sweetly as she had done upon Darcy and entered into the conversation with much spirit. Darcy could not quite match their tone, and would have started to feel irritated with his cousin who was obviously setting them up in competition for Elizabeth's attention, had she not sent him so many friendly glances and smiles that always seemed to include him in all that she was saying. After they had strolled together in the park for about an hour, the gentlemen regretfully said they had to head back to Rosings and Lady Catherine, and Elizabeth said that she was sure everyone at the parsonage would be wondering where she had got to.

The gentlemen stood and watched Elizabeth go, then turned and retraced their steps to Rosings.

"Oh cousin, have you seen any girl like?" asked Colonel Fitzwilliam effusively. "Such spirit, such sweetness, such beauty all combined. I am completely bewitched."

Darcy muttered something, he knew not what. He did not want to discuss Elizabeth's charms with his cousin. He let the Colonel ramble on expressively, but did not attend. He was busy remembering Elizabeth's smiles and words, the warm glow in her dark eyes, and the gentle blush on her cheeks. Could it really be that she cared for him? She had been most pleased to see him and more than ready to thank him for his favour to Bingley. He blushed a little, knowing that it had not been a completely selfless act. The only thing he could not determine was the strength of her regard for his cousin, and which of the two she preferred. He walked on, lost in thought and did not even notice that his cousin's outpourings had come to an end until the Colonel took him by the shoulders and gave him a little shake.

"I am pouring out my heart to you, man, and you are not attending to a word I am saying," said Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"I beg your pardon, I was thinking of something."

"Yes, your own concerns must always come first," teased the Colonel, who decided that if Darcy would think of his business at a time like this, he could not possibly be in love. That he was attracted there could be no doubt, but who could help but be captivated by Miss Bennet's charms. "Darcy, I know I have been in love many times before, but this time I fear my heart is truly lost."

Darcy looked at him and did not know what to say. They could not both be in love with the same lady! He finally responded. "I warned you that your flirting would lead you into trouble someday," he said lightly. "It is good that we will be gone in four days and you will soon be able to get over this infatuation."

"Four days! Only for more days!" cried the Colonel. "Say it isn't so!"

"We have already extended our visit by over a week," said Darcy. "I cannot leave my affairs any longer, besides she will be leaving the day after us."

They both walked on, lost in reflection on the short time they had left to bask in Elizabeth's smiles. And they both determined that what they needed was to find a moment alone with the lady before the time was done.

Lizzie ran through the pathways in exhilaration. She could not return to the parsonage yet, not until she had gained some equilibrium. She continued on into the home wood and the welcome shade of the great oaks. She found the spot where she had encountered Mr Darcy the other day, and she sat on a gnarled root in contemplation of all that had taken place in that meeting, and on this morning. Today his green eyes had shone with such a brightness that she could barely keep from looking at his face. There she had seen such warm regard that she began to entertain dreams of what she had hitherto never let herself hope.

The next day brought an unexpected visitor to the parsonage. After hearing a carriage and rushing to his library window to investigate, Mr Collins set up a cry for everyone to make haste and come out to the garden gate. Miss Anne had come!

Lizzie ran out to find Miss Anne in a curricle with Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr Darcy alongside on his fine grey horse.
"We have brought our cousin Anne to see you," cried the Colonel. "She has escaped her mother and her nursery maid."

Anne smiled at this sally, and greeted the gathered company.

"You are most welcome," said Mrs Collins. "Won't you please come in?"

Mr Collins repeated the invitation with much elaborate bowing and scraping, and the overuse of the words humble and gratitude. The Colonel helped her down from the carriage, and Anne was soon ushered into the parlour, her first visit inside the parsonage.

"What a charming room," she said politely.

"It is indeed charming, but it is nothing to Rosings," fawned Mr Collins. "Your gracious mother, Lady Catherine, suggested the green damask for the curtains and also the placement of these small tables."

It was feared that Mr Collins was going to take over the entire visit but Mrs Collins soon reminded him of the sermon he was needing to write and he paid his compliments and regretfully left the room. They were then able to have a comfortable visit. Maria was in awe to have Miss Anne seated beside her on the settle and was so content with the treat as to not open her mouth for the remainder of the visit. Elizabeth was happy to finally meet Anne away from her mother and found her to be shy but wanting to put herself out and become friends with her and Charlotte. She had a gentle manner and by the end of half an hour had quite opened up and shared her delight in her cousins' suggesting the visit as it was something she had long desired to do. They saw her off to the curricle then, and Colonel Fitzwilliam settled her back in, tucking the rug over her lap, and saying meantime to Elizabeth:

"We are sorry we could not steal her for longer, but we must depart. Will I see you tomorrow on your usual walk?"
"I do hope to walk tomorrow," answered Lizzie, "but I am not sure where my feet will take me."

"The Colonel drove off, and Darcy unhitched his horse, got ready to mount, and then hesitated.

"You must excuse my sister and I," said Charlotte to him, quickly seeing all the advantage of leaving him alone with Lizzie.

Darcy bid them good day, and they returned into the house.

"Thank you again for bringing Miss Anne to visit," said Lizzie. "It was a pleasure to get to know her better. She does not manage to take much part in the conversations at Rosings."

"No, she is not given the chance," said Darcy. "I only wish we had struck upon this idea earlier, for her sake. Your company is very good for her, and I believe she has taken a strong liking to you. It is hard for anyone not to."

Elizabeth coloured and turned away. Her heart began to race in her breast. Was this the moment she had been hoping for?

Darcy started to speak, and then stopped, and then started again.

"Miss Elizabeth . . ." He took a few steps closer.

She turned to look up at him. Their eyes met and held.

"Miss Elizabeth . . . you must allow . . ."

"Mr Darcy! Mr Darcy!" came Mr Collins' cry. "Before you go I must give you a most important message for Lady Catherine."

As he rushed up, Darcy and Elizabeth jumped apart. Darcy mounted his horse and turned to Mr Collins with an expression of extreme annoyance.

"I am just leaving, sir, and will be pleased to relay a short message," he said curtly.

"You must tell Her Ladyship that the placement of the tables in the parlour has been a great boon," said Mr Collins, "a great boon indeed. She must be informed of that. How it slipped my mind before I do not . . ."

"I shall tell her. I bid you good day sir," said Darcy, turning his horse. "Goodbye, Miss Elizabeth."

This last was said in a much gentler tone, and with such a wistful look that Elizabeth could only smile and nod in acknowledgement. She stood and watched until he rounded a turn in the road, and then she slowly walked into the house, leaving Mr Collins still bobbing obsequiously by the roadside. Charlotte looked up as Lizzie came in and could tell at a glance that what she had wished for her friend had not taken place.

The morning before they were to leave for Pemberley, Darcy was waylaid by his aunt just after breakfast to discuss some pressing business matters with him. From the window of the office he could see his cousin heading out fot his walk. He swore softly to himself.

Colonel Fitzwilliam paced back and forth by the park paling, wondering if her should go to the parsonage or wait in the hopes that Miss Bennet would arrive. Just as he was about to enter the lane he heard a footfall and turned to see Elizabeth approaching from another walk.

"Miss Bennet, I have been hoping to find you here," he said with some feeling as he rushed to her side. "Tomorrow we go and there is something of great importance that I must ask you."

Lizzie stood still and raised her startled gaze to his face. 'Oh no.' she thought. 'Can this be what I think it is?'

"My feelings will not be repressed," sighed the Colonel. "In fact they are irrepressible! I have no wish to repress them. You are the most enchanting girl I have ever met. I most ardently adore you and throw all other considerations aside for my love of you. Will you do me the honour of accepting my hand?" The Colonel looked at her happily, confidently, sure of her answer.

"I am most obliged and gratified by your sentiments," stuttered Elizabeth. "I am sorry to have to cause you pain, and I hope it will be of short duration. The other considerations which you have set aside should convince you that I am right in this decision."

"The other considerations are of no consequence. I care not for your lack of dowry, your inferior connections, or the indecorous behaviour of your mother and your younger sisters."

"You are the younger son of an Earl," said Elizabeth gently. "You need to marry where there is fortune."

"Is this all the reply I am to expect, when I am willing to give up so much for you?" the Colonel cried. "Can you not have mercy on me and say you will be mine? Is there no way I can beseech you to accept me?"

"I have every reason to think well of you," said Elizabeth in some distress. "And your mode of declaration has been above reproach."

"I should not have mentioned your connections, or your family," said the Colonel. "I am sorry for that. Can you forgive me?"

"Considerations such as that are right and just," said Elizabeth. "Your station in life is considerably above mine. I am a gentleman's daughter, but you are the son of a peer. I only wonder where you such information of my family - from Lady Catherine, I presume."

"No it was from my cousin Darcy. I was so taken with you when I first met you he saw fit to warn me of the unsuitability of thinking of you." He saw the change in her countenance and added, "Do not blame him. He was only trying to look out for me in his own way. But I am not like him. Such things don't weigh with me. I only care about you, my dearest Elizabeth." He reached for her hand and she let him take it. She looked into his eyes and said:

"From the very beginning, almost the first moment of our acquaintance, your manners impressed me. I enjoyed your company and your conversation and upon this groundwork succeeding events have built such an endearing feeling of friendship for you that makes it hard for me to tell you this. I am sorry. You could not make me an offer that in any way could tempt me because I will only marry where I love, and as much as I admire and respect you, I do not love you and I know that I never will."

"You have said quite enough, Miss Bennet," said the Colonel bravely looking into her concerned dark eyes. "I perfectly comprehend your feelings and have no wish to constrain you. Forgive me for any embarrassment I may have caused you and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness."

With these words he kissed the hand he still held and made a hasty departure.

Lizzie stared after him. The tumult in her mind was painfully great. That he should have been in love with her and so in love to propose! She had known that he enjoyed her company, but she had believed him of being an accomplished flirt, just biding his time with her to make his stay at his aunt's house more interesting. But what upset her the most was what he had disclosed about Mr Darcy. It was obvious from his words that Darcy's feelings regarding marriage hadn't changed. He still felt as he did when she had overheard his remark in Netherfield. He would never accept her connections as his own. But how to understand his recent behaviour towards her? She had been almost sure that he had been about to propose to her before Mr Collins had interrupted them. Apparently she had been mistaken. He must have become more warm and open with her only because he believed that she was soon to become his cousin. She who prided herself with her discernment and understanding of character couldn't have been more wrong.

She ran, not caring the direction, brushing angry tears from her eyes until she found herself again in the oak woods and sank in disappointment and exhaustion at the base of a great tree and gave herself over to crying in earnest.

Part the Tenth

Posted on Tuesday, 20 August 2002, at 6:17 p.m.

Darcy's interview with his aunt was not going at all well. The business she had wanted to discuss with him turned out to be none other than his betrothal to her daughter. She was eager to discuss settlements and set the wedding date.

"Now that you and Anne have come to an understanding, I would like to establish all the details. A girl does not like to be kept waiting long, and Anne is almost three and twenty. I feel she is now ready to take her place as mistress of Pemberley; in maturity and health she is much improved. I have discussed it with her doctor and he feels that she is strong enough at this time to provide you with an heir. It would not be advisable to leave it many more years."

"Aunt! You know I have never agreed to this engagement," said Darcy, extremely taken aback at his aunt's outspokenness.

"In the past you have informed me of this foolish fancy of yours to decide for yourself who you marry, but I am not blind nephew. I have seen the attentions you have paid your cousin this visit, and I am aware that you and Anne have arrived at an understanding. I always knew you would come to your senses and realise Anne was the perfect wife for you. When I saw you and Anne in the garden on the bench in such an intimate tête-à-tête, my heart was filled with joy. I never knew I could be such a silly romantic old woman, but the idea that you and Anne were finally to make a match of it, and a love match at that, I had tears in my eyes!"

"Aunt Catherine, you are labouring under a misapprehension. The only understanding that Anne and I have come to is that we neither of us feel bound by your and my own dear mother's wishes for our alliance."

"But I saw you two together in the garden in a very compromising situation!" sputtered Lady Catherine. "Have you been leading my daughter on, taking advantage of her innocence, and then having gained her confidence imposed your notions upon her? She would not go against my wishes! She knows she is bound to marry you!"

"She does not feel bound to marry me! I have done nothing to influence her decision. She is as a sister to me and I have committed no impropriety by sitting with her on a garden bench! Her feelings for me are quite the same. She sees me as an older brother. This is not what either of us want out of marriage."

"Anne will do as I say!"

"You may be able to coerce your daughter, but you will not coerce me! Aunt Catherine, do you not see that what you propose is not right? Anne deserves to marry where she likes. She deserves to experience love and not have an empty marriage."

"Love! What do you know of love? What does she? Have you been bemused like your cousin by the wiles of that Bennet girl? I had thought better of you than that. Girls of her birth are beneath the Darcys and Fitzwilliams. She has one thing in view and that is to trap a man of fortune with her flirting and her forwardness and her come hither ways. Anne is fine and upstanding and has centuries of breeding and heritage behind her. Her lines are impeccable!"

"This conversation does not regard Miss Bennet. I ask that you refrain from abusing her. She deserves neither your contempt nor your censure."

"Your cousin Anne would not get taken in by someone below her station. She knows where her duty lies!"

"I do not think we have anything more to say to each other," said Darcy in icy tones. "My feelings on this matter are final. I only ask that you give your daughter the freedom to choose for herself who she marries."

"Choose! Where is she likely to choose from? Who does she know but you and Fitzwilliam?" Shouted Lady Catherine at Darcy's departing form. "Where are you going? Do not leave when I am talking to you!"

Darcy was well into the park before he had brought his anger under control. It was only then that he was able to bring his thoughts from his Elizabeth and turn them to Anne's problem. He did not see much hope for Anne standing up to her mother and getting her to accept the parson's brother as a son in law. It was no wonder she had entered into the secret engagement, but where was she to go from there? He could only see one solution to her problem, but it was unthinkable.

He heard himself being hailed from a side path, and turned to see the Colonel coming towards him at a fast pace. He looked flustered and excited. Darcy stiffened. As soon as Colonel Fitzwilliam was close enough, he blurted out:

"I just proposed to Miss Bennet."

Darcy felt his heart tighten. He was having great trouble breathing. His cousin's face was blurry and indistinct. He wanted to yell, to cry, to plant his cousin a leveller to the jaw, but he managed to keep all his wildly erupting emotions in check, and say in a completely level and bland voice, "I wish you happy," and then he turned abruptly on his heel and strode off, oblivious to all his cousin's calls for him to stop. She was lost to him! And not only lost to him, she was to marry his cousin. How could he bear it? Tears were streaming down his face. He ripped a branch from a tree as he passed and proceeded to break it into smaller and smaller pieces. He had never known pain like this. Colonel Fitzwilliam caught up with him and grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Wait, Darcy. I need to talk to you!"

Darcy shook him off. The Colonel grabbed him again, and found himself thrown into a bush.

"Leave me!"

"Darcy! Listen to me, man. She did not accept me! Do you hear me? Do I have to yell it out for the whole world to hear? She . . . did . . . NOT . . . accept me."

Darcy turned and saw his cousin lying in a bush. What was he doing there?

"What did you say?" he asked

"I was rejected."

"Eliz . . . Miss Bennet is not going to marry you?" He reached down to help his cousin to his feet. "What were you doing down there?"

"You threw me in the bush. What has got into you? I need to talk to you and I get thrown in a bush!"

"I'm sorry. I thought . . . it does not matter what I thought," he threw his arm around his cousin's shoulder. "Tell me how it is with you. You must be feeling it terribly."

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at his cousin, startled again by his unusual behaviour. Darcy was normally the most calm and steady person that he knew. But first he had been treated to uncontrolled anger, and now endearing tenderness. He had never known his cousin to hug him in his life. He had been thrown in a bush before, but not since they were children, milling for the fun of it.

"I really believed that she cared for me, and even if she didn't, who would imagine that a girl of her situation would reject me? I may not have a large fortune by my standards, but by her standards I must be considered a good catch."

"I was sure she would have accepted you," said Darcy. My reaction is proof of that!

"Do you know what she said to me? That I was an Earl's son, and her connections were beneath me."

"She did not accept you because she thought herself beneath you?"

"No, It was not really that. But when I told her that her connections, objections to her family, and her lack of dowry did not weigh with me, she seemed to think that they should."

"You referred to the inferiority of her connections in your proposal?" Darcy asked in some incredulity.

"Only to say that they meant nothing to me."

"Maybe that offended her and caused her to reject you?"

"No, she said considerations of that nature were right and just. She said that she liked me very well, that she enjoyed my company, but that she could never marry me because she would only marry for love." Colonel Fitzwilliam walked up and down the clearing they were in, trying to come to terms with his loss. "She was very good and kind, and concerned about paining me, but she could not feel more than friendship for me. How am I to go on? What am I to do? I have never been so much at a loss in my life."

"No," said Darcy, gently, "you are used to be the one who has caused the pain, are you not."

His cousin gave him a rueful smile. "Never this much pain surely. I never played with affections that were sincere."

"Well now you have been severely put in your place."

"Do you mean to say that she was insincere with me? That she was flirting and leading me on? I cannot believe that."

"No. I believe she was very sincere. I think we misinterpreted her friendliness for more than what it was. She is not like the ladies we are used to who always use their arts and allurements. She was always natural and real with us, and we mistook her openness for something else that we wanted it to be."

"For love. I believe you are right. I can think no wrong of her. She is all goodness."

"And she said she would only marry for love? Did she . . . did she say she was in love with another?" Darcy held his breath. Could it be she had rejected his cousin because she was in love with him? His heart started to pound very quickly.

"This is what she said. I shall never forget it. 'I will only marry where I love, and as much as I admire and respect you, I do not love you and I know that I never will.''' It hurt to say the words aloud to Darcy. It hurt so badly, but he felt he had to say them, to get them outside, somehow drive them from his head.

Darcy could feel all the pain that his cousin must have felt at those words. 'I know that I never will'. It was so certain. So final. Did it mean that she loved someone else, or only that she knew her own mind? It did not give him the hope that he wanted. There was one more question that he had to ask his cousin, and then he would be done. It was all that he still needed to know. "When you told her of the considerations, the inferiority of her family, the behaviour of some of its members, did you tell her where you obtained the information?"

"She asked me, and I told her you had warned me against the relationship . . . ought I not to have said that?"

"It is of no consequence," said Darcy. No consequence at all. It only put her that much further away from him than she previously had been. Not only had she just gone through the pain and embarrassment of rejecting an unwanted proposal, she now believed him to be against her connections. She obviously now believed that he regarded her connections as inferior and a degradation, and also that he had tried to influence his cousin against her. She may not have felt any anger towards his cousin for this, but he was sure that she would not feel quite as conciliatory towards him.

They walked on together in silence until Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to Darcy and said, "How am I to go on? How can I drive her out of my mind?"

"I do not think I am the right person to ask that question, Fitzwilliam," said Darcy.

"Thank God that we are leaving in the morning," said Colonel Fitzwilliam. "It shan't be too soon for me."

Lizzie sat, leaning against the trunk of an old oak tree, her tear stained face looking down at the twisted roots that had forced their way through the hard-packed soil, looking down at the roots but not seeing them as her thoughts overwhelmed her to the exclusion of the outside world. Why, why, why had the wrong gentleman proposed to her? Had her good spirits given him the impression that she was expecting his advances? Had her behaviour somehow been at fault? She had been so happy, and now everything was ruined. She heard a step and looked up. There was Mr Darcy, not six feet away, his face all over with concern.

"Please say not that I am intruding," he said in a voice soft and gentle.

She could do no more than stare at him. He quickly walked over and knelt by her side. She turned her head to hide her tear stained face, but he cupped her cheek in his hand and tilted her face back to look at him. He gently wiped her tears away with his handkerchief, saying, "Miss Elizabeth, is there anything I can do to alleviate your distress? You are so dear to me it hurts me deeply to see you suffer so."

All she could see was the green of his eyes, filled with such tenderness, such warmth. He tucked an escaped tendril of her dark hair behind her ear and smiled, "You are more important to me than anything else in this world . . ."

Lizzie jumped to her feet. This would not do! Letting her mind build up such imaginary visions would not help her face the reality of her situation. She must behave more sensibly than this! He was not in love with her, and even if he was, he would not let himself debase his family name and pride by connecting himself to her. That he should warn his cousin against her hurt more than anything else. She wiped her face with her skirts, and strode purposely back to the parsonage determined to forget him completely. She would not think of that moment by the parsonage gate where he had said, 'she has taken a strong liking to you. It is hard for anyone not to,' and the look of admiration that had accompanied it. She would not think of his wistful look as he forced himself to leave, after Mr Collins had interrupted them. It was their last shared look; there would be no others. She had best remember his look of disdain at the Meryton ball; it would do no good to remember any other.

Charlotte met her on the stairs as she attempted to slip up to her bedchamber unseen. She took one look at Lizzie and said, "I will fetch you some water."

Not five minutes later she tapped on the door and let herself in. Lizzie had straightened her gown and tidied her hair in the meantime. Charlotte wet a cloth and handed it to Lizzie.

"You don't need to tell me anything."

"I thank you, but you deserve to know. You had such high hopes for me. It is really quite simple, the Colonel has proposed and I have refused him, and I need not fear a proposal from Mr Darcy."

"You refused the colonel? Oh Lizzie!"

"I do not love him."

"And there is no hope of Mr Darcy proposing? I had been sure he was about to propose the other day, if not for my husband."

"He cannot overcome his distaste of my lowly connections."

"He has told you this?" asked Charlotte in some confusion.

"He warned the Colonel against me on their account."

"So it has all been for naught," sighed Charlotte.

"Oh do not talk so, Charlotte, for you know I did not come here in search of a husband but to visit you, and I have had the best of times with you."

Charlotte could not help but think that her friend had had the best of times while in company of the gentlemen, Mr Darcy in particular, but she wisely kept these thoughts to herself and left Lizzie to compose herself before she had to face the rest of the company at dinner.

After Darcy left his cousin, he wandered in the pleasure gardens and ended up seated on a bench staring abstractedly at the buds of roses that were beginning to form. His cousin Anne spied him from a distance, and sent Mrs Jenkinson back into the house so that she could have a private word with him.

"Darcy, what is troubling you?" she asked as she sat beside him.

"More things than I can say," he answered ruefully. "Your mother gave me an audience today and wanted to discuss our wedding plans. She was quite put out when I said there would be no wedding."

"She has told me. Thank you for keeping my secret."

"What will you do? I don't think she will ever accept your intended."

"I will accept no other. I can oppose her Darcy. I am stronger than you may think."

"I will help you by any means in my power. You just have to send for me."

"Thank you. It is good to know I have your support and approval."

"I leave in the morning. I can stay no longer."

"And so it is unresolved?"

"What is unresolved?"

"I beg your pardon, but you know all my secrets, so I hoped that you would share yours."

"There is nothing to share. It is all but a vain dream."

"I do not understand. Darcy, I am very quiet, but I do see things, and I have seen two people who are very much in love."

"You have seen one who thinks he is in love, one who is so good and lovely and sweet and lively that she showers friendship that is mistaken for love, and one who feels so deeply he can hardly talk to you of it."

"What has happened? What has the Colonel done? Do not tell me he has offered for her himself?"

"And he was rejected."

"Of course he was rejected. She loves you, Darcy!"

"Does she? I think love is the last thing she feels for me at present. He told her that I had warned him against her on account of her low connections."

"And did you?"

"Yes. I did not want him to form an interest in her. I was afraid that he would win her with all his charm. Deceit is my abhorrence, but I stooped to it, and now I must suffer the consequence."

"Her connections don't matter to you?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Then tell her so."

"I do not want to force another unwanted proposal upon her. She has suffered enough to have to say no to one cousin, to be imposed on by the other would be too much. I could not be so cruel."

"What will you do?"

"I must win back her trust again. I am going tomorrow and I do not know when I will see her again, but I will not give up."

The next morning Lizzie kept to her room, giving Charlotte instructions to say she was unwell if she was asked for. The Colonel came and took his leave of the parsonage on his own, quite early. Darcy came by later. He had determined that he would see how Elizabeth behaved towards him, and then he would know more what to think of his future chances.

When Charlotte gave Lizzie's excuse of being unwell he showed much concern, and she went up to Lizzie's chamber to see if she could not convince her to come down. The room was empty. She looked out the window to see Lizzie running through the back garden and down the lane. When she returned below stairs she had to tell Darcy that Elizabeth, though not in any danger, was still not well enough for company, and had sent her adieus. Darcy's anxious face became closed and severe. He understood perfectly. She did not want to see him. He went away shortly thereafter, leaving only his wishes for a prompt recovery which he was sure would be accomplished by his removal.

Part the Eleventh

Posted on Wednesday, 4 September 2002, at 2:37 p.m.

Maria was content to sit quietly on the trip to London, and not chatter on about the wonders of Rosings and the rest of the joys of their stay at Hunsford. Charlotte had warned her that Lizzie was suffering from a bad head and needed quiet to endure the trip. Maria could understand her being out of sorts. After all they had done, dining twice at Rosings, and actually being visited by Miss Anne herself, not to mention the two gentlemen, life at home was going to be very flat. Maria stared out the window of the chaise at the passing countryside, sorting and storing all her memories to share with her young brothers, her mother, and Kitty and Lydia, when she returned to Lucas Lodge.

Lizzie's memories were not the kind to be shared on her return home, except with her dear sister Jane. How she needed her now. She longed for her sympathetic understanding, her warmth and her caring. Despite her resolve not to think the last moments she had spent with Mr Darcy at the parsonage gate, his wistful look as he rode away haunted her every thought. Why had he looked like that? Why had he appeared to care in some way for her if he regarded her connections with such abhorrence and considered her too inferior for an alliance with his family. She did not doubt his cousin's words. The colonel had no reason to lie to her. But she could not shake the feeling that he had been about to say something of sentiment to her before Mr Collins interrupted him. His green eyes had held hers so intently, and yet with a tenderness that she had never before seen. Had she been wrong? Had she only imagined what she wanted to see in his eyes? How could she have let herself fall in love with him, when her very reason had cried against it? Could it be that she had given herself away to him, and his look had been of sympathy alone? Could it be that he had been searching for a way to let her know that he had no intentions, without embarrassing her or hurting her feelings. It was true that he had an abominable pride, but he was very kind and considerate person. She had discovered that about him. The idea that he had been about to let her down gently hurt as much as anything she had yet felt. She blushed to think that she had been so careless of her feelings that in her happiness she had shown too much of what was in her heart. It was as well that she would probably never see him again because she did not know how she would ever be able to face him again if she did.

After what seemed an inordinately long and miserable journey, the chaise pulled up in Gracechurch Street, and Lizzie was released into Jane's arms. She held her tightly and kissed her, sobbing in happiness to be with her dear sister again. Jane's face was serene, but Elizabeth could sense a barely suppressed happiness that had nothing to do with her arrival.

"I can't wait till we are alone and I can speak to you," whispered Jane.

Lizzie struggled to put aside all her own turmoil and anxiety, and squeezed Jane's hand in acknowledgement. She could not infringe on Jane's happiness with her sorrows just yet.

Her aunt and uncle Gardiner greeted and hugged Lizzie and welcomed Maria to their home. The children gathered around, clamouring for Lizzie's attention, for she was a favourite aunt with all of them. Lizzie did her best to be open and natural with everybody, answering all their questions about her visit to Kent and the trip to London. If she did not have her usual vivacity and spark, her aunt and uncle put it down to the long and exhausting trip. She was allowed to go early to bed, with Jane following soon after, bursting with excitement. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were overspread with a rosy blush.

"Oh Lizzie, Lizzie, I am the happiest girl alive," she said hugging her. "He loves me and wants to marry me. Me! Isn't that amazing. Oh! I am talking about Mr Bingley. Charles Bingley!"

"Well I did not think you were talking about the third footman!" laughed Lizzie. "Of course he loves you my dear Jane. How could he help but? I am so happy for you."

"He is just this morning gone to Longbourn to talk to my father. I have told nobody but you, although I think my aunt and uncle suspect something."

"Unless he somehow managed to be alone with you without their knowledge, they must indeed. Unless of course he proposed to do very discreetly while you were all drinking tea, and made it appear you were only discussing the fine weather."

"I think they would have been a bit shocked when he took me in his arms and kissed me," giggled Jane, blushing at her admission.

"They would have thought he was very pleased with your predictions for the fineness of the day."

"Oh Lizzie! He is the most handsome, sweetest and kindest of men. I am so lucky that he chose me. And Mr Darcy! How can I ever thank him for telling Charles that I was in London? He has done me the greatest service imaginable!"

At the mention of Mr Darcy's name, Lizzie paused. She was struck with a sudden realisation. With Jane and Mr Bingley's marriage, she could not help but be thrown again into Mr Darcy's company. She longed to see him again, to hear his voice, but to be in the same room as him and know that he was indifferent to her could only bring pain.

"Lizzie," Jane said with some concern. "Is anything the matter. You have become quite pale."

"I am well," said Lizzie, struggling for composure. "I am only a little tired from my journey."

"And I am selfishly keeping you from your sleep!" cried Jane. "How unfeeling I have become, only thinking of my own concerns. You must get to bed immediately and rest."

"Jane, I do not mind one bit staying up and talking to you about your Mr Bingley, but perhaps we had best get ready for bed as we talk.

They changed into their night things and brushed out each other's hair as Jane recounted to Lizzie all the events that had led up to the proposal, and the proposal itself. She kept sighing over her luck, and all the wonders of Charles Bingley's character and appearance, and Lizzie kept telling her that luck had nothing to do with it, aside from the fact that she thought Mr Bingley the luckiest man alive.

As they lay down in their bed together, Jane sighed. "Oh Lizzie, if only there was just another such a man for you, then my happiness would be complete."

"If there were a hundred such I could never be as happy as you," said Lizzie snuggling into her pillow, trying not to think of the only man who could make her happy.

"How did you get on with Mr Darcy and his cousin during your visit? From your last letter you appeared to be much in their company. Was either of them smitten with you?"

Lizzie knew that she had to take this opportunity to tell Jane of what had happened. She answered lightly.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam is a charming man, but I am afraid that I had to disappoint him."

"Lizzie! Did he propose?"

"Yes, but I refused him."

"The poor man! Was he very disappointed?"

"He was at the time, but I think the pain will not last. I truly believe that he was merely strongly infatuated with me and not deeply in love."

"And what about Mr Darcy?" asked Jane expectantly.

"Dear Jane! I appreciate your interest, but you cannot expect me to have two gentlemen falling in love with me in the course of a month!" Elizabeth was not about to tell Jane of her disappointment now. She wanted nothing to cloud Jane's happiness.

"But it would be so wonderful if it was Mr Darcy who had proposed, and you had accepted, and then we could have all become married together in a double wedding," said Jane, dreamily.

"Jane, I will not marry merely to fulfil your wish for a double wedding. I doubt if Mr Darcy would oblige his friend thus either. When I marry it will only be because I am very deeply in love, and the man I marry is just as deeply in love with me. I think my destiny is to be a dear aunt to your sweet children, and that should give me all the happiness I could ever hope for." She pushed her face deep into the pillow and willed away the tears that this all too honest declaration had brought forth. When she regained her composure and could trust herself to speak again, she turned her head towards Jane and said, "Could you snuff the candle now? I am so very tired I am going to fall asleep in mid sentence. Your news has been the best thing for me and I will be sure to have sweet dreams tonight."

"Of course. Goodnight dear Lizzie. I am so glad to be able to have you to talk to again."

As the room darkened, Lizzie snuggled down into her blankets but no matter how tired her body was, her mind would not stay still, and sleep did not come for many hours. When it did come, her dreams were not filled by Jane's wedding bells but rather an oak wood, a grey horse, and a man with shy green eyes who was always illusively beyond her touch.

Part the Twelfth

Posted on Saturday, 7 September 2002, at 4:34 p.m.

Mrs Bennet could not control her ecstasy. Jane had barely placed her foot on the ground upon alighting from the carriage when her mother swept her into her arms. Jane was engulfed in scent and lace and elaborate endearments. Lizzie was able to alight unnoticed and quietly make her way to greet her father who was standing on the doorstep.

"I missed you Lizzie," he said quietly, kissing her forehead. "You will bring some sense and sanity back to my world."

"Mother is sure to settle down soon," said Lizzie, smiling up at her father.

"That young man came to see me yesterday morning and she has been in transports ever since then. If I knew marrying my daughters off would be this trying I should have retired to the wilds of Yorkshire and left a note on my study door saying that anyone who wanted to have them had my favour," answered Mr Bennet. "However the young gentleman was very direct, and did not waste my time beating around the bush. He is most agreeable and complaisant; they will make a sorry pair!"

"Oh father, they are perfect for each other!"

"They will never resolve anything, and be taken advantage of by tradesmen and friends alike."

"Do not disparage them, they neither want for sense."

"You are right, behind his silly smile I did detect a fair amount of sense in the gentleman. And he did pick Jane for a wife, which shows a deal of good judgement. She will make him a good natured and compliant wife, and he shall be very happy."

"They shall both be very happy," said Lizzie a little wistfully.

Her father cocked his head. "Do I detect a little envy on your part?"

Lizzie laughed. "No father, I am very happy for them, but I am content with that."

"I am pleased to hear that. I would not want you jumping at the next offer you get just to have a husband like your sister. When it comes to marriage you must be very careful who you chose, and I must warn you that I will not give my consent unless I feel the gentleman to be worthy of you."

Lizzie was saved from answering by her mother and Jane approaching. Jane greeted her father and he kissed her in congratulation before making a hasty retreat to his study. Lydia and Kitty came tumbling from the house and the exclamations became almost too much for Lizzie to bear. She wished that she had her own sanctuary to escape to but knew that escape was not possible for her.

"I had hoped to marry first!" pouted Lydia. "Jane you are a sly thing, sneaking off to London to meet with him."

"I did not go to . . ."

"Think of your pin money and your clothes!" interrupted Kitty.

"I would go distracted to have so much money as you will!" cried Lydia. "You must give ever so many balls!"

"And invite all the officers," said Kitty.

"Ooooohhh."

"And jewels girls," cried their mother. "He is sure to shower you with jewels, Jane dear. Oh my precious, precious daughter!"

"Do not forget us if he gives you too many!" cried Lydia. "I would dearly love a ruby necklet."

"You should wear it with a white silk gown with lace on the bodice. Fine French lace!" Mrs Bennet hugged Lydia. "Then you would be sure to find a husband!"

"Mother, should we not go in," asked Lizzie. "We should not stand about on the doorstep talking like this."

"Oh the tea! Mary has set it in the parlour," said Mrs Bennet. "Come girls, in we go. Lizzie please don't dawdle or our tea will be cold. Jane do you mind the tea service Mr Bingley has at Netherfield? The finest bone china with gold leaf, and it will be yours. Oh darling, you will be so happy!"

Mary was waiting in the parlour, reading a book of lectures. She looked up and quietly greeted both her sisters, then went on to congratulate Jane. "Marriage is a state that all woman must aspire to, and though some of your wifely duties might give you distaste remember that in all things you must bow to your husband's wishes."

"Mary!" cried Mrs Bennet.

"A good wife must make many sacrifices," continued Mary, undaunted by the look of shock on her mother's face. "When she takes her vows she gives up not only her heart but her body and soul."

Lydia and Kitty exploded with giggles.

"I would gladly give up my body and soul to someone as rich and handsome as Mr Bingley!" cried Lydia.

Jane turned away, blushing. Lizzie looked at Lydia sternly. "You should think what you are saying before it bursts from your mouth, Lydia"

"What??? Oh, I don't mean I want Mr Bingley for myself! But just think of the officers. Denny!!"

"Sanderson!" squealed Kitty between fits of giggles.

"Wickham!" sighed Lydia.

Elizabeth turned away from her sisters in disgust. "Mother, can you not do something about those two? They are disgraceful."

"Oh, it is just normal girlish silliness!" said Mrs Bennet. "Come let us have our tea. Mary I should be happy if you would refrain from such subjects as you have upset both Jane and Lizzie. Now Jane, I can't wait to hear. Please tell us his proposal."

"Yes we want every detail," clamoured Kitty.

"Did he kiss you? Hmmm," teased Lydia as she burst into more giggles.

Jane blushed and blushed again, and proceeded to tell her mother and younger sisters as little as possible. In this she was helped by the three of them who had much more to say on the matter than Jane herself.

The next morning a very eager Bingley came calling as early as it could possibly be considered socially acceptable. As Jane was not yet ready, Lizzie went down before her to greet her soon to be brother and offer her congratulations. Bingley was very pleased to see Lizzie, and they spent a cosy ten minutes talking, mostly of Jane and her many wonderful qualities, until Jane made her appearance.

In the days that followed, Bingley spent most of his time at Longbourn, unless he had to honour engagements with other neighbours who unfeelingly called him away from his fiancé's side. Lizzie was their assigned chaperone whenever they went out for walks. As Lizzie very discreetly gave them as much time alone together as possible, walking was a favourite pastime. During these walks Lizzie tried to enjoy her solitude, but regrets couldn't help but intrude when she accompanied the two young lovers on their countryside rambles. The sight of them arm in arm further up the path would cause her to yearn for the same intimacy. To have Mr Darcy's tender gaze directed at her again, his green eyes softening as they alighted upon her, was an image she constantly attempted to banish from her mind.

One morning as they were heading out to explore the lanes, Mr Bingley turned to the two sisters and said, "I have finally heard from Darcy today! My letter did not find him at Pemberley, but eventually tracked him down at his uncle's estate. He answered me immediately with hearty congratulations and a message to each of you."

Elizabeth felt a thrill go through her body at the mention of Darcy's name. She suddenly felt extremely conscious, as if her every feeling showed on her face. She turned her head away and listened to Bingley's words with a quickening of pleasure upon hearing that Mr Darcy had sent her a message.

"Oh, how very nice," said Jane. "What did he have to say?"

"To you, my love, he sent his heartfelt congratulations, and said that you are much more than I deserve. Elizabeth, he sent his best regards to you and hoped that were recovered from the indisposition that you suffered at the end of your stay at Hunsford."

Jane turned to Lizzie. "You were indisposed? Why did you did not tell me of this?"

Lizzie blushed. "It was only a headache, Jane, and your good news drove it completely from my head."

"From the level of Darcy's concern, I would have thought that you were quite unwell," said Bingley, giving Lizzie a searching look. A thought had just struck him and he wanted to see if there was any basis for conjecture.

"No," said Lizzie. "And as you can see I am quite recovered from my bad head. Please thank Mr Darcy for his concern when you next write." Lizzie could say no more as she was feeling quite overcome. That Mr Darcy had sent her his regards pleased her more than she could say, and that he had been concerned for her health touched her deeply, and made her feel a little regretful that she had avoided him on that last morning at Hunsford.

"He will not be able to come to stay with me here soon as I had hoped," continued Bingley. "He and Georgiana are promised to his uncle for another month or two, but he and his sister will be coming for the wedding."

"I am so happy," said Jane, smiling up at him. "I know how much it means to you to have him by your side on that day."

As they walked along, Lizzie dropped behind as was her habit. He was not coming yet. Was she pleased or displeased with the news? She did not yet think she could meet him with equanimity, so perhaps it was better he would not come until the wedding, but the wedding was still so far away. She was still to go on her visit to the Lake District with her aunt and uncle Gardiner in June, and the wedding was set for the first Sunday in September. It was now only the end of April. The time seemed to stretch ahead of her even more so now that she knew that she would not see Mr Darcy until the wedding.

Upon returning home, they found that they had not managed to avoid a visit from a group of officers who were still at Longbourn, enjoying the warm spring weather in the pleasure gardens of Longbourn with the younger Bennet girls. One of the reasons that Lizzie took every opportunity to walk out with Jane and Bingley was to avoid the officers who were visiting quite regularly now that their division was soon to relocate to Brighton. Well it was really only one of the officers that she didn't want to see. She also did not like to witness the behaviour of Kitty and Lydia which was becoming more openly flirtatious.

Since her return from Hunsford she had been informed that Miss King had been removed from Wickham's society by her uncle. Lydia thought it a great good fortune for all the Bennet girls, but Lizzie only saw it as a lucky escape for the young heiress. Although she had heard nothing really ill of Mr Wickham, what she had seen of him she could not like. And now with Miss King safely out of his way, Mr Wickham had started to resume his attentions towards Lizzie, much to her dismay.

Lizzie entered the house with Jane and Bingley, hoping to sit in the parlour with them and escape Mr Wickham, but her mother would have none of it.

"Lizzie!" she cried, though she was seated quite close to her. "What are you thinking of shutting yourself up in here with us? Jane and Mr Bingley do not need you dangling around them all day. Go out and entertain the officers. They will soon be gone, and you have little time to bring one of them to the point. How do you think you are ever to get married? Mr Wickham was asking after you particularly. Go, girl, go!"

"Mama!" said Lizzie. "I have no intention of chasing after the officers, Mr Wickham especially." She blushed at her mother's vulgar behaviour in front of Mr Bingley, but Jane and Bingley were not even attending, so wrapped up in each other as they were.

"You do as you are told, young lady. You have already spurned one proposal and see what is to become of it. I shall lose my home to that scheming Charlotte Lucas. Mrs Collins. Hmph!"

Lizzie complied with her mother's wishes immediately. She had no wish to hear her recriminations over again for her refusal of Mr Collins. She ran out into the warm sunshine and decided to go down by the stream that bordered the garden, keeping out of sight of her sisters and the officers who were clustered about the old swing in the side garden. She was soon in her favourite retreat under the pendulous boughs of a large weeping willow and she only wished she had thought to bring a book to read as she sat in its welcoming shade.

She looked at the gently flowing stream at her feet, watching the dappled sunlight wink upon the water. She felt very serene and at peace, as if a load had been lifted from her heart. She did not know if it was just because Mr Darcy had asked after her in his letter to Bingley, or if knowing that she would not see him until September had eased the unsettled feeling she had, thinking that any day he could visit his friend and she could meet him totally unprepared, and give away her feelings. She stretched out her arms towards the water and let out a sigh, marvelling at the simple beauty of her surroundings.

She suddenly stiffened as she heard the rustling sound of someone approaching.

"Miss Bennet, what a charming spot you have chosen here. I couldn't have planned this better myself."

She turned and looked up straight into the sparkling blue eyes of Mr Wickham.

Part the Thirteenth

Posted on Monday, 9 September 2002, at 7:11 p.m.

Lizzie let out a gasp and stood up, backing away from her unwanted companion.

"I had been hoping to find you. I had begun to think you were avoiding me, but now I see your mind has been running along the same lines as mine has," said Wickham in a silky voice.

"Whatever can you mean?" asked Lizzie, her voice like ice.

"That you have also been desiring a chance for us to be alone together." He took a step forward, his smile curved slyly, his eyes glittered. Lizzie backed away and found herself up against the trunk of the tree. Wickham leaned closer, his breath smelling of spirits.

"Mr Wickham! I beg you to leave me at once."

"Oh Lizzie, you do not know how long I have dreamt of this moment."

"Mr Wickham you are forgetting yourself. Can you please go away!"

"Oh, I see. You are upset with me for my attentions to Miss King. A fellow of my finances has to make attempts of that nature, but my heart has always been yours. You tantalise me so much that I threw her over. You fill my every thought, my every dream. I am overcome by this nearness to you. Please say you will be mine." Mr Wickham reached out and grabbed Lizzie's hand. "Lizzie, my alluring treasure!"

"You are not . . . you can not be proposing to me!" cried Lizzie, her alarm deepening.

"No my sweet. Alas I cannot propose marriage, not with your dowry. But I do have something else in mind."

Mr Wickham tightened his hold on her hand and leaned in. Lizzie struggled to get away, but he pushed her hard against the tree. She raised her other hand to slap his face, but he grabbed it too. "You are a little wild cat! You do not know what you are doing to me. The angry glint in your eye only raises my passion."

"You fill me with disgust and revulsion. Let me go!"

"Your sweet endearments only strengthen my desire!" Wickham transferred one of her hands so he was holding them both tightly by the wrist in one firm grasp. His other hand he reached out to take hold of her chin as she twisted her head away from him. He turned her head back to face him. "Just relax my Lizzie, you know you have wanted this as much as I have, almost since the first moment we met."

"Mr Wickham, I beg you. If you have a shred of decency left please unhand me and let me go." Lizzie looked at him imploringly. Wickham leant his head in closer. The smell of the liquor on his breath made her stomach churn. She stiffened against the touch of his body to hers. She compressed her lips as tightly as she could, but he pressed his hard against hers, forcing them open. This is not happening to me, she thought as she was overcome by a wave of shame and revulsion. As Wickham raised his head to gaze once more into her eyes she spat into his face and stared back at him, seething with fear and loathing.

He jumped back in shock and nearly loosed his hold on her wrists. "So that is how it is, is it? I offer you my love and you spit in my face. I understand. It is Darcy, isn't it? I have seen the way he looks at you."

"Mr Darcy has nothing to do with this. I find you despicable!"

"Your sisters tell me he was in Kent when you were. Just a coincidence, or did you plan it that way? I imagine you had many secret meetings in the park at Rosings of an amorous nature, something like our own."

"Mr Darcy is a gentleman and would never behave in such a base manner as you have done!"

"He is a gentleman and I am not, Is that what you are inferring? Well you are correct. I am decidedly not a gentleman, and when I want something and it is denied me, I take it. Darcy's thousands are very tempting but do not think he will ever marry you, especially after I have had my fill!"

Lizzie struggled all the harder to break free. She turned and twisted, trying to wrench her arms free of his grip. Wickham just laughed at her, and bent in for another kiss. He held her by the chin and said, "Your struggles only make this more exciting."

"Lizzie, Lizzie, are you down there?" Mary's voice carried from the upper lawns. "Lizzie, father wants you."

"It seems you have been rescued," laughed Wickham. "I shall be left with only the memory of our kiss." He released her hands and she turned and ran towards her sister's voice.

Wickham sat down under the tree. He had enjoyed this little interlude, and the fact that she had not co-operated had increased the pleasure, but he had not liked the way she spat in his face, or the look of pure hatred in her eyes. It was just another score he would have to settle with Darcy. That Darcy was involved he had no doubt. He realised he would not get a chance alone with Lizzie Bennet again, but there were other ways to play the game. If Miss Bennet was what Darcy wanted, as he suspected, he still had the power to make her unacceptable in his eyes, she did have sisters after all, and the youngest would be a much easier target. Too easy to bother with but for the circumstances.

As Lizzie ran up the hill towards Mary, her mind was in a turmoil. All she knew was that nobody should ever find out what had just happened to her. She smoothed her gown, and wiped her face, and tried her best to compose herself before she came out of the woods and met Mary.

"I thought I should find you out here," said Mary as they met. "Mother said you were with the officers, but you were not. Mr Wickham was not there either."

"Mr Wickham's whereabouts are no concern of mine!"

Mary gave Lizzie a searching look. "One can't be too careful about one's reputation. You must remember that we women can easily fall prey to the unsavoury propensities of the opposite sex. We must always be on our guard."

"So father has need of me?" asked Lizzie, trying her best to change the subject. A moralising sermon on the dangers that could befall a young lady on her own was not what she needed at the moment, no matter how near to the truth Mary's insights were.

"Yes, he is in his study, but I don't think it is of any great import."

"Father's wishes are always of importance," said Lizzie. 'And to be wanted now is highly providential and the best thing that could have happened to me,' she thought to herself.

Mary and Lizzie parted at the door of Mr Bennet's study. Mary continued on to the parlour to practice the pianoforte, while Lizzie knocked at the study door and then let herself in.

"Lizzie, my dear," said Mr Bennet, "it took Mary some time to find you. I wanted to show you this passage I was reading ." He looked a little more closely at her. "Is there something the matter?"

"It is just that I have a headache," said Lizzie wanly.

"You do look out of sorts. If you were not feeling well, why were you not resting in your room?"

"Mama wanted me to go outside and entertain the officers so that I might receive a proposal from one of them before they go."

"And you were actively partaking of this pursuit? Lizzie, I have told you what I would like you to do when it comes to marriage, and throwing yourself at the officers is not part of the plan."

"No, I know father. I have no intention of throwing myself at any man, it is just that mother was so persistent, and started talking of Mr Collins, so I went outside. I did not go to see the officers but went down by the stream, that is why Mary was so long in finding me. The walk back has made my head pound even more."

"You go up to your room my love, and lie down. I will share this book with you another day when you are feeling better," said Mr Bennet, coming to Lizzie's side and kissing her forehead. "I will talk to your mother. She will not send you out chasing after the officers again. Two silly daughters chasing after officers is enough for any father to bear."

Lizzie thanked her father and went up to her bedchamber. Mr Bennet stood and looked thoughtfully after her. There was something bothering her, that much was obvious. He could not pry. She had seemed a little subdued ever since she had returned from Kent, but this was something more. He only hoped that she would tell Jane. Jane had sense enough to advise her, and a shoulder to cry on, which might be exactly what Lizzie was in need of. Unfortunately, Mr Bennet did not realise that Lizzie was not about to unburden her soul to Jane at this time and spoil any of the happiness of Jane's time of courtship.

Lizzie thankfully closed her door and threw herself on her bed. She was so filled with anger, shame, and revulsion that she didn't know which feeling was uppermost. Silent tears spilled from her eyes as she rolled in her blankets. She beat her pillows with her fists, imagining them to be Wickham's face. Oh that she would never have to set eyes on him again. Remembering his touch made her shudder in disgust. She got up and went over to her water pitcher and filled her wash basin. She then proceeded to wash her face and hands and wash out her mouth. She looked down at her wrists and noticed big ugly bruises forming. She dried herself off and pulled on some gloves and then threw herself onto the bed again. She didn't know how to find comfort. There was only one thing that she wanted, and that was to look up into a pair of tender green eyes and be told that everything was all right, and she would never be alone again. And the thought that was supposed to bring her consolation only made her cry all the harder as she realised the truth of Wickham's words. Darcy would never hold her in his arms and comfort her, he would never marry her, even if he did want to. She was foolish even to think of him.

Continued in the next section