Section I, Next Section

Chapter 1

Posted on Sunday, 13 October 2002, at 3:53 a.m.

Elizabeth Bennet stepped out of her red VW Cabrio and turned to face the mid-day sun. Slowly stretching her arms up over her head she glanced down at the outfit she was wearing. Not too bad, she thought. Definitely one of her more inspired moments in recent history.

In the spirit of her reinvigorated patriotism, Elizabeth had designed a costume befitting the day's Fourth of July celebrations. Although not a particularly artistic person by nature, she frequently enjoyed creative experimentation.

It had come to her in a flash two days ago. While making the final plans for the afternoon's festivities, an idea had slipped into her mind. Grabbing a new pair of white capri pants and several jars of fabric paint, Elizabeth had gotten to work. Four hours later, she was admiring her handy work in a full-length mirror. Wrapped around her well-formed figure was a pair of pants that sported a gigantic American flag.

Now, as she considered her unusual choice of attire, she could not help but laugh as she looked across the top of the car at her sister, Jane. They had ridden down from Portland together, taking full advantage of Elizabeth's biggest extravagance, her car. Due to continual rainfall, it was widely accepted by Northwesterners that convertibles were not practical vehicles. She had disregarded all common sense when making this purchase, and it was days like this that made her glad she had.

"They'll see you coming today, Lizzy." Jane smiled at her sister as she shut the car door.

"Thanks," Elizabeth laughed lightly, "you're sure it's not too much?"

"On anyone else, it would be. But on you it's perfect."

Elizabeth wasn't sure if Jane was sincere, or if she was just acquiescing to her good-natured personality. It didn't matter - it was too late to turn back now.

With a rueful grin, she joined her elder sibling as they walked towards the house. Set in the chimerical Willamette Valley between Portland and Salem, the sisters had grown up on a vineyard and accordingly were among the third generation of Bennets to reside at Avalon Vineyards.

Specializing in Pinot Noir, Avalon Vineyards had been founded by Elizabeth and Jane's grandfather in 1948. For many years, the vineyard had been nothing more than a small family-run project. It was only in the past twenty-five years that Avalon had begun to make its mark on the wine industry. The cool afternoon temperatures of western Oregon were gracious enough to allow for the development of wines that displayed an enduring finesse. The low temperatures permitted the grapes to mature well into the fall season. And as one of the older vineyards in the area, Avalon had an established reputation of producing wines of exquisite quality.

"When will Charles be here?" Elizabeth inquired as they approached the front stairs of their family's home.

Glancing at her watch, Jane replied, "In about an hour. Did I mention he's bringing a friend?"

"Really?" Elizabeth's interest was piqued.

Before Jane could respond, the girls were interrupted by the loud beckoning of their mother.

"Girls! Girls, we have been waiting for you all morning!" bellowed Mrs. Bennet from the confines of the house.

For now, there would be no more information exchanged between the sisters.

Jane had been seeing Charles Bingley for several months now, and from all appearances, they were exceedingly well suited for each other. Their cheerful dispositions mixed well and seemed to complement each other.

As a fourth grade teacher at Lewis and Clark Elementary, Jane was always searching for new ideas for her classroom, and, accordingly, she had decided to incorporate a unit on the eruption of Mt. St. Helens into her lesson plans. The mountain's close proximity to Portland made it the perfect choice. Merely an hour trek via school bus, they could reinforce this unit with an actual visit to the mountain.

About thirty minutes into her reconnaissance mission at Powell's bookstore a particular book caught Jane's eye. It told not only the geological story of the eruption but focused on the human experiences as well. Designed for children, the book featured an amalgamation of photographs and exquisite illustrations. Facts were unveiled to the reader through the captivating stories of the people who lived through the event.

Although that particular eruption had not contained large amounts of the highly viscous magma so often associated with volcanoes, it had left an imprint on the entire planet. The massive explosion hurled pyroclastic material into the atmosphere, covering Washington and Oregon in a matter of hours.

Jane recalled the photos of Avalon dusted with ash during the spring of 1980. There had been many concerns for the vineyard that year. No one really knew how the ash would impact the soil or the grapes. In the end, like everyone else in the Northwest, they had simply cleaned up and moved on.

The eruption story had been retold in countless editions, but this particular version stood out amongst the rest. The more she perused it, the more Jane realized that it was the book's illustrations that set it apart from the others. Glancing at the inside cover, she noted that the artist was a Portland native.

Charles Bingley. The name seemed somehow familiar.

Bingley could not contain himself as he moved briskly down the hallway of Lewis and Clark Elementary School. Grinning, he remembered the phone call he had received just two nights before. It had definitely surprised him.

Charles Bingley, the businessman, often impressed people. The Harvard graduate. The millionaire. But rarely had anyone in his social circle noticed much about Charles Bingley, the illustrator.

This was a nice change.

Charles seldom thought much about his position as vice-president at Bingley Scientific Industries. While he was pleased to be associated with the medical supplies company, he was acutely aware that his career with the company had always been a given. Charles had "earned" the title of VP the day he was born.

His work as an illustrator fulfilled an entirely different need for him. A genial man, Charles wore his emotions close to the surface. Drawing provided him with a vehicle to express himself and the freedom to do so. When an old friend had approached Charles about a book on the eruption of Mt. St. Helens, he had been more than happy to oblige. In fact, he had even refused payment.

For Charles, this project had been all about fulfilling a dream.

And now, he was here to share that dream with a classroom of forth graders. This would most assuredly be a good day.

As he opened the classroom door, Charles looked up to meet the eyes of one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. He prayed that he was in the correct room and that the beauty before him was named Jane Bennet.

Finally escaping from the vociferous ramblings of Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth and Jane slipped out onto the back porch. Surrounded on two sides by lattice entwined with luscious grape vines, this area of their family home had always provided a retreat for the sisters. Today was not their first escape.

Anxious to resume their previous conversation, Elizabeth pressed Jane for details. "So, who is this friend of Charles?"

"They met in college, at Harvard," Jane supplied, observing that she now had Elizabeth's full attention. "Charles convinced him to move down here last spring."

"He's not from Portland?" Elizabeth inquired.

"I think he was from the Seattle area."

Elizabeth stepped closer to her sister and lowered her voice. "So, will you be returning to the city with them tonight or staying out here with me?"

"Oh," Jane blushed, "I was thinking of staying with Charles."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as she smiled at her sister.

The sound of squealing from inside indicated that the young men in question had finally arrived. Soon Elizabeth and Jane found themselves with company.

"Charles," Jane beamed, "you made it!"

"Jane!" In seconds he was at her side.

Elizabeth's attention traveled from the embracing couple to the tall, dark man standing off to the side. His handsome features did little to conceal his discomfort with the situation.

After a few moments, Elizabeth coughed, pulling Jane and Charles back from the spell they had almost instantly found themselves under.

"The vineyard looks wonderful, Elizabeth!"

"Thank you, Charles." She smiled at his gracious comment.

Turning to his companion, Charles said, "I'd like you to meet my friend, William Darcy."

"Hello, Mr. Darcy, it's a pleasure to meet you. " Elizabeth pondered his name while extending her hand. "Is that Darcy of Darcy Genomics?" she inquired.

"Yes," William replied curtly, barely making eye contact while he briefly shook her hand. He nodded in Jane's direction.

The four adults stood looking at a combination of each other and the floor, two with a strong sense of awkwardness. After what felt like an eternity, Charles broke the silence.

"Darcy, Elizabeth is the vice-president here at Avalon vineyards."

"Oh, I see," William stated, never actually acknowledging the object of discussion. "That must be...interesting."

"Yes, it is." This is certainly going well, thought Elizabeth.

Sensing a need for distraction, Jane offered up a suggestion. "Shall we have a seat?" With a gesture, she indicated the large field that separated the family home from the winery. One could not help but be taken in by the ambiance of the setting. Bordered on two sides by the vineyard's tiers of grapes, the area had been decorated with a smattering of round tables surrounding a dance floor. The acres of continuous rows of grapes seemed to flow into the horizon.

As the group gathered around one of the tables, the band began setting up next to the dance floor. Charles gazed lovingly at Jane, while William stared alternatively at Elizabeth and his shoes. Very little conversation ensued. Tired of discussing topics as mundane as the weather, Elizabeth contemplated the man across the table from her. What lurked behind those dark eyes? Disinterst? Dislike? Disapproval? She couldn't put her finger on it. Sipping her favorite wine, a 1997 Pinot Gris that had been the first production she had supervised at the vineyard, Elizabeth mulled over possible reasons for his cold behavior.

They continued on in the same monotonous fashion for sometime, until pulled from their reverie by the arrival of the family's other guests. Elizabeth and Jane rose to greet the new arrivals, leaving the gentlemen to themselves.

"I can't believe the weather today! I think it's rained four out of the last five Fourth of Julys," Charles noted. "The temperature is perfect, and you couldn't ask for a more picturesque setting."

After a beat, he considered his friend. "You don't appear to be enjoying yourself, William. Is something bothering you?"

William sighed. "I don't know why I let you drag me down here in the first place. It's a Thursday afternoon, I could be at the lab. We're extremely busy trying to get everything fully operational," he grimaced. "I don't have time for this."

"You know, Darcy, there's more to life than just work. The lab will run fine without you for one day."

"Charles," Darcy continued tersely while shaking his head, "I don't think I fit in with this crowd." At that moment, Elizabeth caught his eye from across the room. He studied her briefly. Originally tied into a fashionable knot, many of her long brown curls had escaped to frame her face. William allowed his eyes to meet hers momentarily, caught by their musical dance. Then with a slow thoroughness, his gaze traveled down her body. Noticing her fitted red tank top and the eye-catching pants, William pondered the disparity of their situations.

Jane noticed the direction of her sister's gaze. "So, what do you think of William?"

Elizabeth considered her response for a moment. "He seems...reserved. Have you met him before?"

"He's joined Charles and me for dinner on a couple of occasions."

"Is he always this cold? He's barely spoken to anyone since he arrived. Not even Charles."

"I get the impression that he's extremely focused on DGT," Jane responded thoughtfully. "You know, you two have a common interest in genetics. You should try to talk with him about it."

"Yes, I'm sure he'd love to discuss it with me." There was a strong note of sarcasm in Elizabeth's voice. "Jane, if there is one thing that I am absolutely sure of, it's that William Darcy and I are from two very different worlds. And judging by all appearances, he'd like to keep it that way."

As the Vice-President of Avalon vineyards, Elizabeth Bennet spent two days a week physically at the vineyard and the rest of her time working from the apartment she shared with Jane in Portland. Only a thirty-minute drive, the commute rarely bothered her. Most weeks Elizabeth would head out to the vineyard on Tuesday morning and return to Portland on Wednesday evening. This struck a nice balance in her life, and she particularly enjoyed being in the city on the weekends.

Elizabeth and Jane had been sharing an apartment since Elizabeth's first year in college. The girls had both attended Portland State University, and it had been perfectly situated for them. A college in the heart of the city. PSU, and the excitement of city life, had a draw to the sisters that could not be matched by many of Oregon's more rural colleges and universities.

Elizabeth had spent five years of her life prostrate to higher learning. Earning a degree in Agriculture, she had focused her studies on the genetic modification of plants. The subject not only fascinated her but was proving itself useful to the vineyard as well. New cloning techniques were being utilized to bring the genes of famous grapes, such as those in Burgundy, France, to vineyards all over the world. Elizabeth wanted to find a way to weave this technology into the traditions of Avalon. Additionally, she had picked up minors in both business and marketing to assist her in understanding of the financial management of the vineyard.

The intensity of her studies had left Elizabeth very little time for a personal life in those years. In the transition from student to vice-president of the vineyard, she had hoped to find more opportunities for dating. Sadly, they had yet to materialize.

After about fifteen minutes, the smell of barbequed chicken grabbed the men's attention. Catching Jane's eye, Charles signaled for the girls to join them.

"I think dinner's about ready. If you want to grab your plates we can line up at the buffet table," Jane cheerfully suggested.

"I'm right behind you," Charles said, grabbing her hand.

Elizabeth stood next to the table looking at William. "Well, perhaps we should join them."

"Yes," he stood and indicated that she should lead the way.

Dinner consisted of the typical summer classics: chicken, salads, fruits and breads. Both Pinot Noir and Pinot Gris were served as an accompaniment to the meal. Upon returning to the table, a light conversation about the food and wine selections began. It did not last long. After a few moments, an uncomfortable feeling permeated the group for much of dinner. Charles and Jane tried to break the silence on several occasions, to no avail. Finally, resorting to the easiest topic he could think of, Charles commented, "Ladies, the chicken was incredible. How did you do it?"

Chuckling, Lizzy replied, "It's the wine marinade."

"You're not giving away Bennet family secrets are you girls?" Mr. Bennet asked, his voice rich as he approached the table.

"Never, father!" Elizabeth replied with a broad grin.

"That is a relief." He eyed them suspiciously.

"Hey, the dancing is going to get started. Come on, Jane," Charles said, grabbing her hand.

"You will have to excuse us," she smiled over her shoulder at the table. "I can't say no to swing dancing."

"Yes, go ahead, I've come to claim Lizzy's hand for the first dance, anyway. What do you say, Lizzy?"

"Dad, you know I could never resist a dance with you. Excuse me, William," she said while rising from her chair.

"Certainly," he responded.

The sounds of "In The Mood" filled the air as Elizabeth moved out onto the dance floor with her father. The instrumental tones of big band jazz would always bring her mind to Avalon. She had spent many an evening as a child just like this, learning to dance with her father. Elizabeth looked at him now. They had always had a special bond. He was the man she would measure all others by. He set the standard.

Elizabeth noticed Charles and Jane across the floor. There was no hesitation between them. It was as if they could predict each other's movements. Their dancing combined an experience and communication far beyond the three months of their acquaintance. An obvious happiness surrounded them and drew the attention of many.

Elizabeth remained on the dance floor through several more songs. With numerous longtime family friends in attendance, she suffered no lack of partners. Gradually, she allowed herself to become immersed in the syncopation of the jazz rhythms. Feeling the vibrations of the music, Elizabeth stopped thinking and simply moved.

Left alone at the table, William surveyed the couples swaying in time with the music. One young woman in particular caught his eye. She seemed to be fairly intoxicated and was overtly affectionate with her dance partner. All movements from her body appeared to initiate themselves from her chest. They came frequently into contact with her appreciative dance partner. William could hear her boisterous laughter from across the lawn. He frowned at the thought of such a public display.

Returning to the table for a drink, Jane noticed the direction of William's stare. "I see you've spotted my sister," she sighed.

"No, actually I was..." realizing his mistake, William paused.

"Lydia is our younger sister. I don't think you've met her yet. She's about to start college this fall and can be very...outgoing."

"Yes, there are three Bennet sisters, William," added Charles as he approached the pair.

"Well," Elizabeth said as she joined them, "we often don't claim Lydia."

"Lizzy!" Jane laughed.

"Jane, you are just being polite. Lydia can be much more than outgoing, and I am not going to worry about her tonight. Dusk is falling. It looks like the fireworks will begin soon."

"Fireworks?" inquired William.

"An Avalon Fourth of July tradition, nothing elaborate," Elizabeth replied. "At least it's not raining this year."

While offering this explanation, Elizabeth noticed her father moving towards the front of the dance floor. He stepped up to the microphone that the band had been using.

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, could I please have your attention?"

Elizabeth looked around the group as a gradual hush fell across the crowd. What could he be up to? She glanced at Jane, only to receive a shoulder shrug in response. This did not seem like her father, public speaking had never been his strong point.

"I would like to start by thanking all of you for joining us today. We will get started with the fireworks soon, but I would ask you all to indulge me for just a moment. This celebration is significant for many reasons this year. One of which, I am most proud to share with you.

"As many of you know, this is Lizzy's second full year as Vice-President here at Avalon. She has been working on a project this year that will have a sizeable impact on the vineyard.

"For the last several years, Elizabeth has been researching methods of bringing new strands of Pinot Noir to Avalon. This grape originated in France over a thousand years ago and we would like to add some of that heritage to our own vineyard.

"This fall we will harvest the fruits of Elizabeth's labor. Our first crop of these new grapes should be ready in early October. I hope you will all be able to join us for the stomping of the grapes festivities.

"Lizzy, it brings me a great deal of joy to watch your passion for Avalon grow.

"I would like to quote Oliver Wendell Holmes in saying,

"Here's to Lizzy, may she continue to enliven our hearts!"

Cheers of agreement went up as everyone raised their glasses in salute.

Elizabeth blushed and with tears in her eyes met her father's gaze. She mouthed a silent "thank you".

Mrs. Bennet had spent the evening circling the dance floor, visiting with anyone who would listen to her chatter. Now, upon hearing Mr. Bennet's words, she honed in on Elizabeth.

"Sweetheart, I'm just so proud of you!" she exclaimed, not actually looking at her daughter. Scanning the table, her eyes settled on the serious expression of their newest guest. "Did you hear that, Mr. Darcy? French grapes! A man in your position must be very familiar with French wines. Not that I mean to imply that Avalon could compare with a French vineyard."

"Mom." Elizabeth was incensed. "We most certainly do compare with many French vineyards!"

Elizabeth looked at Jane with a panicked expression. Her mother had to be stopped. This had the potential to be rather humiliating.

Noticing the situation that appeared to be brewing amongst his family, Mr. Bennet made his way to his wife's side and spoke to her quietly. "Franny, the fireworks are going to start soon. We should have a seat so as not to miss the beginning."

"Oh, well of course, why did you not say so earlier?" With a lingering gaze, she appraised William and Charles. "Until later gentlemen."

Elizabeth shot her father a grateful look of relief. He dipped his head in acknowledgment as they moved away from the table.

Leaning close to Jane's ear, Elizabeth whispered, "That was too close."

"Yes," Jane agreed, "thank goodness for father's perceptiveness."

As the fireworks began, Lizzy noticed Jane lean back into Charles's embrace. He whispered something into her ear as he ran his fingers up and down her arms lightly. Jane giggled and kissed him on the cheek. They were compatible in so many ways. Elizabeth was truly happy for Jane, but sometimes it was difficult to watch. She wondered how long she would have to wait for someone to look at her with such admiration.

It was then that Elizabeth noticed William. He appeared to be deep in thought. She could not tell if he was actually watching the light display at all. The glow of the fireworks seemed to soften his severe countenance. For a moment she caught his eye. His gaze opened up to her, and she saw something deeper. Then, in a split second, it was gone, and William reverted to the stern mien she had become familiar with.

When the last glimmer of light faded from the sky, the sounds of music once again filled the air. The first song was not yet complete when the resonance of Mrs. Bennet's voice cut through the melody, creating an instant discord.

"Girls," she could be heard moving towards their table. "Why are you not dancing? With two such fine gentlemen here, I am surprised that you would find the time to sit down at all this evening."

"Mother!" Elizabeth and Jane exclaimed simultaneously. Mrs. Bennet shot them an annoyed glance and walked off.

Embarrassed by her mother's obvious overture, Elizabeth excused herself from the table, offering to get more wine. Jane took this opportunity to clear away the dishes from dinner.

Watching the sisters' retreat, Charles turned to his friend. "You should try to relax and enjoy yourself. I hate seeing you like this. This is a party."

William stared at him vacantly, shaking his head.

"Elizabeth is terrific, William. Ask her to dance. It wouldn't kill you to loosen up a bit." Charles noticed the subject of their conversation returning. Unfortunately, William did not.

"Charles, I am not about to waste my time romping around a field with some farm girl who has an American flag wrapped around her ass."

A few feet behind William's chair, Elizabeth stopped in her tracks.

Charles just stared at William. They had been friends for years, yet these outbursts never failed to surprise him. Really, it was no wonder he was still single. But before he could stop him, William continued.

"I should never have left the city. Clearly I do not appreciate the temptations and allurements that you see here." William's voice readily expressed his discomfort.

Not knowing how to react, Elizabeth simply stepped up to the table and placed a bottle in front of the gentlemen. Gritting her teeth, she looked at Charles. "You should enjoy this, it is one of our best wines. I'm afraid I need to go." At this statement, both men rose.

"Elizabeth..." Charles began.

"Goodnight, Charles, please make my excuses to Jane," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "William," she glanced tersely in his direction.

After a deep breath, Elizabeth focused herself, moving down the emotional spectrum from hurt to anger.

"Well, boys," now adding a twang to her voice, Elizabeth caught Darcy's eye. "It's off to bed for me. The rooster crows early for us farm girls, you know." William's eyes widened as realization washed over him. With that, she turned and was gone.

As Elizabeth moved away, Charles just looked at William. "I think it's safe to assume that she heard your 'courteous' remarks. Nice, Darcy, very nice."

Marching out through the fields, Elizabeth sought the solace of her favorite spot, under a substantial maple tree. She felt bad just leaving the party, but she did not trust herself to stay.

Who did William Darcy think he was anyway? She may not be the CEO of Darcy Genomic Technologies, but it didn't necessarily follow that she was uneducated. Farm girl, indeed. In her days at PSU, Lizzy had seen the inside of many a science lab. In fact, she was intimately familiar with the majority of them.

Elizabeth couldn't decide what bothered her more, William's condescending attitude or her reaction to it. No, she would not allow him this influence over her. Breathing deeply, she pushed William Darcy back into the depths of her mind. As the warm night air flowed across her body, she began to relax.

Elizabeth looked around at the calm serenity that surrounded her. Serene. Now that was a state not often connected with Elizabeth Bennet. No, it was certainly much more in the arena of Jane's territory. But, as she gazed out across the luscious fields that had shaped her family's life, the feeling enveloped her. Not finding the strength or desire to resist the peace it could offer, she simply lay back and surrendered.

Mt. St. Helens Information Page

Chapter 2, Part 1

Posted on Saturday, 19 October 2002, at 3:30 a.m.

August 31, 2002

Had William Darcy ever considered another direction for the path on which his life would lead him, all such thoughts dissipated the instant his mother died. It was as if he had lost his own free will. He knew, in that moment, that Darcy Genomic Technologies would be his life. The irony of this cruel twist of fate was not lost on William - that his mother would be taken from him by the same predatory disease that his family had pledged themselves to fight. DGT was a research company. It focused on the identification of genetic "misspellings" related to the development of cancer. And yet, when this insidious marauder began to stalk his mother, William could do nothing to save her.

At seventeen, William had watched as the woman who had given him life, nurtured his body and soul, and loved him unconditionally, slipped out of his grasp.

Darcy had spent his undergraduate years studying molecular and cellular biology at John Hopkins University. He followed this with an MBA at Harvard.

His time at John Hopkins had allowed him the opportunity of conducting original research and investigations in the field of cellular genetics. While this experience was not required for the future CEO of DGT, its omittance was never an option in William's mind.

He took the work of his family's company very seriously. DGT was not merely the means of adding another million to their already overflowing coffers. The Darcys had been afforded a rare opportunity - the chance to save lives and to participate in one of the most exciting moments in all of science history.

While his time at Harvard had prepared William to deal with the awesome responsibilities of managing such an impressive company, it had been his time spent as an undergraduate at Hopkins that had shown him the true nature of DGT. Their work was important, and he never forgot it.

In many ways William carried the weight of the world.

Approaching Powell's from its main Burnside entrance, Charles grinned at William. "You're going to love this! I can't believe you haven't been here yet; you've lived in Portland for more than half a year."

"I've been busy. Really," William said as he surveyed the building in question. "I don't see what the big deal is. It's just a bookstore."

Charles could not help but notice his friend's apathy. Full of determination, he replied, "Oh no, this is the bookstore."

Stepping past a multitude of bicycles and through the entrance, William was surprised to immediately find himself in front of an information desk. Charles bent over and grabbed a dull, folded piece of paper from the side of the desk. "Here, you'll need this."

William gave him a quizzical look. "For what?"

"It's a map, so that you don't get lost." Charles laughed lightly.

"A map? This is a bookstore, Charles!"

"This bookstore has ten rooms and three floors. You may need some help finding your way around."

"How do you know that?" William asked, doubting the accuracy of Charles's statement.

"I spend a lot of time here. You know, Darcy, I am a published illustrator."

"I could not possibly forget that, Charles." His tone left no doubt as to his opinion of Charles alternative career.

Choosing to ignore him, Charles unfolded the map and indicated their currant location. "All of the rooms here are color coded. We are presently in the green room. Is there anything in particular that you'd like to find? Let me guess, the science books, right?"

"Yes, and perhaps some literature," looking up, William continued, "you know, Charles, I'm sure I can find my way with the map."

"Well, if you feel that confident, I'm going to head for the children's books. Why don't we meet in the coffee shop in an hour?" He indicated its location on the map. "Oh, by the way, you'll need to turn off your cell phone."

"Why on earth would I do that?" William gave him a puzzled look.

"The coffee shop is a cell phone-free zone."

"You're kidding?" he questioned while glancing at his watch.

"Nope, books are a serious thing here." With that, Charles turned and headed toward what appeared to be the back of the store.

After a moment's consideration, William reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. Hitting the off button, he studied his surroundings in an attempt to determine the topic of this room. He seemed to be in a room made up entirely of new releases. After a momentary internal debate, William decided, begrudgingly, that perhaps the map was indeed a logical place to start. He flipped it several times. Finally, orientating himself, William determined that the room to his left contained literature. Well, that is as good of a place to start as any. With a graceful stride, William turned and headed up the ramp to the blue room.

Entering Powell's through its back access, the first thing that Elizabeth noticed was the quiet. Outside, the sounds of the city bombarded her senses: cars, trucks, voices, construction. This sanctuary of books provided her with refuge from the pressures of the real world. She paused for a moment to revel in the calmness.

It was Labor Day weekend, and the sisters had decided to spend the Saturday together. Jane was preparing to start school on Tuesday and needed to pick up a few things, including new books for her classroom. Elizabeth was often astonished by the amount of her own money that Jane spent on her students. Jane had the money; that wasn't the issue. Each of the Bennet girls had received twenty-five percent ownership of the vineyard on their twenty-first birthday. It was the principle of the matter that bothered Elizabeth.

Oregon was made up of an odd assortment of the most liberal and the most conservative people in the nation. It was a state of extremes. The same state that legalized doctor assisted suicide and medical marijuana, faced the constant outcries of citizens who would ban anything that didn't fit with their personal morality or political agenda. The one issue, however, that bound Oregonians together was the importance they placed on education. And yet, Portland could never generate enough money to keep its schools running properly. As a result, each year Jane and many of her colleges supplemented their classroom budgets with personal donations. Elizabeth recognized that for Jane this year would be no different. She loved her students too much to concern herself with the matter. It was just something that she did.

As she glanced around the Orange Room, Elizabeth noticed a line of people waiting to sell their used books. This had never failed to strike her as odd. Why would anyone want to get rid of their books? She loved to be surrounded by the many that she possessed. They decorated her apartment, covering a large portion of her living room walls. They added character to her life. They documented her history. Each book held a special memory for Elizabeth. Times, feelings, and emotions were wrapped up into the printed words held within them.

"Jane, I'm going to head for the Green Room. I want to check out some hiking books. Will you be in children's books?"

"Of course, Lizzy." Jane smiled, moving in step with her sister.

"Okay, I'll come check on you in a little while," Elizabeth said as they passed into the Rose Room, "and do try to leave a couple of books for the other customers."

Jane chuckled at her sister's remark; she was used to this banter. "You know where to find me." She turned to the left and headed down the stairs, while Elizabeth moved to the right and into to Green Room.

Elizabeth entered from the backside of the Green Room, a small alcove opposite the front entrance. To her left, she scanned the rows of books related to Oregon. Passing over the Oregon history section, she settled in on her goal, outdoors and hiking. Elizabeth loved to hike and the mountainous trails of the Pacific Northwest gave her ample opportunity to do so. She browsed through the section, many of the selections already familiar to her. Looking across the aisle, Elizabeth noticed one of the Powell's employees moving books down from the overstock area up above. Taking in his appearance, she wondered about the store's dress code. The man in front of her fit Powell's mold perfectly: worn tee-shirt and shorts, mussed hair (that was just a little too long), black-rimmed glasses, and the two-days' growth of facial hair. This common phenomenon always amused her. And as she shook her head, she came upon a text she did not currently own. She examined it slowly, studying the diagrams and descriptions. Satisfied with her choice, Elizabeth decided to meander her way toward the science fiction region.

The first thing that William noticed as he entered the Blue Room was the smell. He smiled; this was not the scent of an ordinary bookstore. Looking up and down the aisles, he noticed a combination of new and used books. Texts of all ages and histories were woven together on the shelves and the scent of those years and their history was evident. William wound his way further into the room, skimming through the numerous volumes of literature. He paused, running his long fingers along the spines of the books in a particular section. Removing one book and then another, he studied their contents. Choosing one, he returned the other to the shelf and wandered further into the room.

William's observant nature took over as he moved through the medley of books. The wooden shelves were unrefined but functional. They had been worn down and openly displayed their age. He noted, with curiosity, the many pictures, quotes, and recommendations taped to them.

Without intention, he moved into the next room. Almost immediately, William was bombarded with the smell of deliciously rich coffee. This room provided an obvious contrast to the one he had just departed. The evidence of fandom was everywhere. The signs above him read "Gold Room," but there was no doubt that he had found the home of the science fiction works.

William was not a big fan of the genre, but he couldn't help but be engaged by his surroundings. Every wall was covered with something to entertain or educate. A post in the center of the room caught his eye. It was covered in writing. Large black letters named the Nebula and Hugo award winners of many years past.

Gradually, William moved deeper into the room. He passed some familiar names: Star Trek, The X-Files, Star Wars. However, the majority of selections in this room were completely unknown to him. After a few minutes, Darcy found himself staring at another post with writing on it. This column presented a more random surface. Upon closer examination, he realized that it was covered with the signatures of famous science fiction and fantasy authors. Moving around the pole, he studied the names closely. While many of the names remained mysterious to him, a few stood out in his mind: Douglas Adams, Terry Brooks, Ursula K. LeGuin...

Having passed through the Rose and Orange Rooms again, Elizabeth found herself on the stairs leading to one of her favorite places in the world. Her mission for the day accomplished, she would now allow herself the pleasure of lingering for a while in the Gold Room. Having completed her ascension of the stairs, the room's distinct coffee smell greeted her. Her senses heightened, she paused to enjoy the sensation. It was then that she noticed him.

Standing ten feet in front of her was William Darcy. And, at first, Elizabeth had barely recognized him. His khaki shorts and black crew shirt presented an image entirely different than her first impression had offered. She noticed that the black leather belt he was wearing appeared to match his black sandals perfectly. He was casual, yet flawlessly put together. William's appearance offered up a contradiction. It was evident that he was meticulous in his grooming habits. However, he gave the impression of being completely unconcerned about others' views in relation to his attire. As far as Elizabeth could determine, this was in complete alignment with his personality. He certainly had not shown her evidence of concern for anyone's opinion other than his own.

Approaching him slowly, she recalled the details of their previous encounter. She paused. Perhaps it is best to walk away unnoticed. Before she could move, however, the subject of her consideration turned, eliminating that option.

"Hello, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth stated, meeting his gaze directly. Immediately she noticed the silver-rimmed glasses he wore. She was amazed at the way they accentuated his deep brown eyes.

Startled, William replied, "Ms. Bennet! What brings you here?"

"The same thing as you, I would imagine...books." She couldn't help grinning.

"Yes, of course," he replied uncomfortably, "Um, please call me William."

"Well then, William, what brings you here?" She hated to admit it, but Elizabeth was enjoying his obvious discomfort. It gave her an inkling of satisfied glee after their last encounter.

He suspected that she was teasing but decided to respond anyway. "Charles felt that it was important to initiate me into this," he said, glancing about, "shrine of books."

William had been taken aback when she materialized before him. He hadn't expected to see anyone he knew today, and frankly, he was shocked that she was speaking to him. Watching her now, he was amused by what he saw. With her Birkenstocks and denim shorts, she looked the part of a bookstore lover. But it was the black on white t-shirt she wore that truly melded her to her environment. Across her chest, Elizabeth Bennet sported the motto: 'Feminism - The radical idea that women are people.' Her minimal make-up and pony-tailed hair completed the self-assured look. Studying her now, he had to reconsider his initial assessment of her. She was definitely not like most of the women he knew.

Elizabeth chuckled at his choice of words. "Yes, this is Mecca for many booklovers," noting his apparent interest, she continued, "no one makes a quick trip into Powell's. I've lived in this area my entire life, and I still frequently spend hours here looking for new and undiscovered things." Suddenly, she noticed their location. "I see you've found the author's post. See anyone you like?"

"Well, this is certainly a unique structure." William watched as she moved around the poll in front of them, running her hand across an occasional name. "Actually, I'm not much of a science fiction fan. Are you?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. I started reading science fiction as a kid, and I've been hooked ever since." Looking at him again, Elizabeth added, "It can be tremendously addictive."

"Yes, I've heard that."

"What about you?" she asked, noticing the book in his hand. William followed her gaze and lifted the book slightly. "D.H. Lawrence?" The surprise was evident in her voice. "An intriguing choice. I took you for more of the Wall Street Journal type."

"I have been known to read that as well..." Darcy responded with an enigmatic tone in his voice. "I am a man with diverse tastes."

Elizabeth could not help but notice the glimmer in his eyes. "I can see that. You might appreciate the third floor then. Have you been there yet?"

"No," William indicated the map in his hand. "I have only just begun to explore this haven of books. You think there is something on the third floor that might interest me, Ms. Bennet?"

"Oh, please call me Elizabeth or Lizzy," she applied to him with an amused grin. "Actually, there is an area upstairs that you really should see while you are here."

"Well then, Elizabeth," William gestured towards the door, "lead the way."

Elizabeth's expression, she had no doubt, indicated her surprise at Darcy's request. She had not expected to spend any more time with him than politeness demanded, and that he would assume that she would accompany him... Uncertain of her feelings, Elizabeth nodded. "Okay, follow me."

Retracing her path into to the room, she headed back down the stairs with William at her side. "Did you mention that Charles is here with you?"

"Yes, I believe that he headed off toward the children's books."

"I'm sure that he's already found Jane, then." Elizabeth guided them to the left and up the staircase.

"So, what are you reading?" William touched the book in her hand.

"A new book on hiking trails in the North West. It was just published this last spring."

"Do you take pleasure in hiking?" he asked as they reached the top of the staircase.

Turning to face him, Elizabeth stopped. "I do, very much. I try to hike as often as I can, though, I am by no means an avid or especially skilled hiker."

"My sister also enjoys hiking. Although, she has yet to explore any of the trails in this area."

"Does she live with you here in Portland?" Elizabeth could not help but notice how William's expression had softened when he spoke of his sister. He was obviously quite attached to her.

"She does when she is not away at college. She was here for much of the summer but recently returned to school."

"You must miss her, then," Elizabeth observed.

"Yes," he agreed. Elizabeth couldn't decide if he was embarrassed, uncomfortable, or some combination of the two.

"So," William looked around inquisitively, "what is it that I needed to see?"

"It's right back here." She pointed and then moved towards the back of the room.

William could see that they were moving toward an enclosed room with one wall made entirely of glass. The transparent divide offered a glimpse at the refined furnishings and unique tomes contained within its protective barrier. As they approached the door, he spotted the sign that identified the room's contents. "Rare books?" he noticed that Elizabeth's eyes had come alive with anticipation.

Her gaze moved from the door in front of them, to William's questioning expression. "What do you think?"

William opened the door and gestured for her to enter. Stepping into the room behind her, he leaned close to her ear and whispered, "You are correct, Elizabeth, this room appears to hold many things of interest."

Elizabeth was surprised by the warmth of William's breath as it caressed her neck. She could feel his closeness. Slowly spinning towards him, she smiled unsteadily. "I'm glad you like it. I'm going to head over to the art gallery for a few minutes. It's just to the right of the staircase."

Caught up in her eyes, now just inches from his own, William, momentarily, found himself speechless. "Why don't I meet you over there when I finish looking around here?" he suggested, finally. "Somehow I think that we might find Jane in the coffee shop with Charles."

Smiling in agreement, Elizabeth brushed past him and out the door, leaving William to contemplate her slowly retreating figure.

Jane had been wandering through the children's books, lost in thought for some time. It was a rare occasion that she had the time to thoroughly evaluate the new offerings her favorite section continually put forth.

After selecting an assortment of books, Jane decided to move over to the children's reading area. She always enjoyed the opportunity to sit and watch the children read around the large, inviting tables in the back corner of the Rose Room. Surrounded by immense windows, the room was illuminated with a natural sunlight that offered an invitation to sit down and read for a while.

Looking up from the books she held, Jane was quite startled to see Charles perched at one of the petite children's tables in front of her. Camouflaged by his boyish blonde curls, he blended in perfectly with the young cohorts sitting next to him. Jane smiled at the youthful innocence he wore openly across his entire body. She watched for a few minutes before he detected her presence.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing here?" Charles unfolded himself from the miniature chair and moved over to her.

She kissed his cheek affectionately. "Lizzy and I are out back-to-school shopping. I bought some new clothes this morning and now we're here to acquire a few books," Jane paused as Charles tucked a strand of her flaxen hair behind her ear. "I thought you were spending the day with William."

"Oh, I am. Actually," he caught a glimpse of his watch, "I am supposed to meet him in the coffee shop soon. Why don't you come with me?"

"Alright, but I'll need to keep an eye out for Lizzy," Jane agreed. "What are you doing here today? Are those young boys friends of yours?" she asked, indicating the table at which he had been seated.

"No." Charles shook his head slightly. "In fact, I just met them. I have been studying various styles of book illustrations. William has never been here, so I convinced him to join me. He's somewhere around here."

"So, you were studying illustrations. Have you given more thought to working on another book?" Jane asked in a subtle voice that belied her true curiosity. She knew that this would be a difficult decision for Charles to make. Each step that he took forward as an illustrator was also, in many ways, a step away from Bingley Scientific Industries. For some time now, she had seen him struggling to choose between personal passion and family loyalty.

"It is interesting that you should ask, Jane, I've been wanting to talk to you about that. I've had another book offer." The mixture of emotions was not difficult to detect on his countenance.

"Congratulations, Charles!" She threw her arms around him. "I am so proud of you! What will you do?"

He rested his hands on her waist. "I am immensely flattered at the offer. But how would I explain it to my family? One book was fun, but two is a definite step toward a new career. I am not so sure they will understand."

Jane rested her head on his chest for a moment, considering his words. "Charles, I believe in you. You will make the right choice." She knew that this would be a monumental decision for Charles. And, in time, he would make it. What he needed now was...distraction. "It is so strange that I found you here today," Jane mused. "This room always reminds me of the first time that I read your name."

Charles presented her with a look of pure delight. "This room keeps bringing us together."

"Oh yes, it is quickly becoming one of my favorite locations," she said, taking a hold of his hand.

"Mine, too." Charles squeezed her hand in reply. "Shall we head over to the coffee shop?"

As Elizabeth left the rare book room, she contemplated the afternoon's unusual turn of events. She had previously considered the possibility that she might see William again, after all, he was Charles's best friend. It had not occurred to her, however, that such a meeting might take place so soon or in this location. His behavior baffled her. One minute he was aloof and detached and the next it almost seemed as if he might want to be her friend. Quite frankly, she couldn't keep up.

These thoughts spun around in her head, and Elizabeth found it difficult to focus. The art before her was tastefully displayed on the wall, but it was not enough to overcome her distracted state. Trying desperately to converge all of her attention on the drawing in front of her, she did not notice William's presence behind her until he touched her shoulder.

"You're finished already?" she asked, attempting to suppress her surprise at his sudden appearance.

"No, but we are out of time. Charles will be waiting for me downstairs. I need to come back when I have more time to appraise the contents of that room. Those books are worth the investigation." William turned his attention to the artwork. "Do you have a favorite?"

"That is difficult to say." Concentrating, Elizabeth placed one hand on her hip. "The styles represented here are extremely diverse. It is not easy to compare them."

"Yes," William concurred, "it is often challenging to analyze art. Sometimes it is easier not to try."

An unspoken agreement propelled the two down the stairs and toward the coffee shop. They moved along silently until they reached its entrance; William stopped just in front of the large sign at the room's entrance. "So, it is true!"

"What?" Elizabeth looked to him for a further explanation.

Running his hand along the side of the sign, he said simply, "No cell phones. I thought Charles was kidding!"

Elizabeth laughed and moved towards the table where she spotted Jane and Charles. "Jane, I hoped that I would find you here."

"Hi, Lizzy, look what I found in children's books." Her delight was easily detected as she nodded toward Charles.

"What a find!" she jokingly mocked her sister. "I'm going to grab some coffee. Anything for you, William?" she asked as he joined the table.

"No, thank you," he replied, taking a seat as Elizabeth crossed the room to place her order.

"I have to admit, William," Charles said quietly, "that I am a little surprised to see the two of you together. After your last encounter..." All conversation on the subject ceased upon William's piercing glare.

Sensing the discomfort, Jane quickly changed the subject, "What do you two have planned for the rest of the day?"

"William and I were going to eat as his place, but perhaps you could join us - we could choose a restaurant instead," Charles volunteered.

"Actually, Charles, my place is still fine, if the ladies don't mind." He could feel the tension beginning to slip away from his face.

"Lizzy," Charles said as she returned to the table, "we were just discussing dinner options. How does Pemberley sound?"

"Pemberley?" she paused, sipping her iced double-shot mocha, "I'm not familiar with it. Is that a new restaurant?"

If the laughter from the opposite side of the table did not immediately identify her error, William's brief reply did. "Pemberley is my home." His eyes focused in on hers.

"Oh." Embarrassed by her naivety, Elizabeth felt the blush rise in her cheeks. His home has a name... Just the thought of it reminded her of the cultural divide that separated them. "I'm sure that would be fine." She broke from his gaze and looked down at her hand that was nervously tapping her cool drink. "If it is not too much trouble."

"Of course not," William brushed over the moment quickly, "but there is one thing I need to find before we go."

"Okay," Elizabeth nodded, "let me guess...a book?" She leapt at the chance to discuss something else.

"Yes." He unfolded the map. "It should be in the science section. I'm looking for a book by James Watson."

"Watson? Of Watson and Crick?" Elizabeth asked with interest.

"Yes," William explained, "he wrote a book about their discovery of the structure of DNA. You know, he is still very active in the world of genetics. I was somewhat embarrassed recently to have to admit that I had not read it, yet."

Elizabeth contemplated what William was saying. The realization of his true meaning hit her suddenly, and with full force. "You've met him!"

William did not answer. He didn't have to.

"I can show you where to find it," she offered as she finished the last of her coffee.

"Are you doubting my abilities to read this well-designed map, Ms. Bennet?"

The teasing tone of his voice was unusual, and it immediately caught the attention of his best friend. "Darcy," Charles piped up, "this feels like a challenge." Laughing, he continued, "Lizzy, do you think that you can beat him to the book?"

Still unsure of what was happening, Elizabeth found it difficult to respond. "I am fairly certain that I could locate the book quickly. I believe that it is Mr. Darcy's skill that is being questioned."

"Indeed," replied William with an air of pseudo-indignation, "I accept your challenge, then."

"What is the title of the book we are hunting for?" she enquired while rising to her feet, already charting the quickest path to the Rose Room in her mind.

"The Double Helix," he stood and took a final glance at the map laid out on the table.

"Good luck, you two," Jane offered with encouragement, "why don't you meet us at the back check-out area?"

"Great!" Elizabeth called out over her shoulder, while heading for the exit. William was right behind her, and in a second they both disappeared through the door.

As Elizabeth moved straight through the Gold Room, she noticed William turning left out of the corner of her eye. With rapid determination, she sailed past the literature contained in the Blue Room and moved into the Green Room. Banking to the left, she cruised by the front entrance to Powell's and focused her attention in a forward direction. At the end of the walkway she could see the Rose Room, home of children's, teacher's, and science books. Elizabeth quickened her pace, hopping down the stairs two at a time. She glanced over her shoulder but could not spot Darcy anywhere in her sight.

At approximately ten feet in height, the bookshelves had a maze-like quality that reminded Elizabeth of catacombs. Moving down the aisles swiftly, she found herself paying more attention to the books than to the people browsing amongst them. As she rounded the corner to the genetics aisle, her single-minded concentration became immediately apparent as she slammed into the chest of a tall stranger.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Elizabeth began to disentangle herself from the grip that had instantaneously surrounded her. "Oh God...I am so sorry!" she exclaimed, trying to hide the mortified feeling that was growing in her stomach.

"Think nothing of it, Ms. ..." an inquisitive smile crossed his face.

"Bennet," she replied, looking at him now, "Elizabeth Bennet."

"Hello, Elizabeth," he held her eye, "my name is George. You must be looking for something important."

"Actually, yes." She began to scan the shelf on their left. "And, here it is." Elizabeth reached down and removed the desired text from the shelf.

"Are you a scientist?" he inquired. She watched as he examined the book in her hand.

"Yes, no, well...kind-of." Before she could offer further explanation, Elizabeth noticed William approaching them. He met her eyes and smiled as he noticed the book in her hand. She was about to say something, when her new acquaintance turned to follow her gaze. Immediately, William stopped. In all her life, Elizabeth had never seen someone's expression turn so cold so quickly. William looked as if he had been struck. She wanted to say something, but the expression on his face halted her. Pivoting, he retreated down the aisle before she could consider her options. Elizabeth watched as he disappeared.

"Do you know him?" George's voice refocused her on his presence.

"Um, yes...would you please excuse me?" she asked, her confusion evident.

"Of course," she heard him mumble as she passed by him.

Elizabeth made her way toward the Orange room as quickly as possible. She could see Jane standing in line near the check-out counter.

"Where are Charles and William?" Elizabeth asked, joining her sister in line.

"Oh, there you are," Jane turned, "they just left. We're going to meet them at William's after I pay for these books."

"Okay," Elizabeth said, looking down at her and William's books, "I guess I'll get these, too." As they stood in line, her mind ran down the events of the last hour. What had just happened? Is this how he treats everyone? The level of confusion surrounding William Darcy had truly reached new heights. One thing was assured, she would never again consider him dull. Just when she thought they had turned a corner, he had intentionally walked away from her. Ironic, considering that two months ago she had bestowed upon him the same treatment. But unlike his previous behavior, she had not been rude. Had she? Elizabeth rubbed her eyes, thinking of what was yet to come. It was, no doubt, going to be a very long night.

Chapter 2, Part 2

Posted on Sunday, 27 October 2002, at 7:31 p.m.

August 31, 2002 (cont.)

Standing at the counter of Pemberley's immense kitchen, Lillian Reynolds gazed through the bank of windows that lined the east side of the room and admired the familiar view from high atop the hills of west Portland. She considered the scene before her, luminous in the setting afternoon sun. Fronds overlapped to create a blanket of plush green that spilled down the hillside onto the valley floor, skirting the edge of civilization. These same ferns provided a backdrop for the ancient fir, cedar, and pine trees that had managed to stand their ground for over a hundred years while the city grew up around them. The scene before her had - somehow, miraculously - unfolded with a natural cadence over countless millennia, an environment untouched by man's vision. And this odd mix of intricate simplicity always managed to inspire and humble her.

With a proficiency gained from years of experience, Mrs. Reynolds kneaded and folded the pasta dough that would become the evening's meal. The dull ache in her hands reminded her of the hundreds of times she had prepared this meal for the Darcy family. For the better part of three decades she had proficiently stuffed the square shaped raviolis an average of two to three times a month. Through the years, as the children aged and consequently their tastes matured, the fillings she had created changed to reflect their developing pallets. But, her love of generating the dough by hand had never waned. The physical routine it provided allowed her time to reflect and enjoy her thoughts.

As she rolled out the dough on the marble slab, Mrs. Reynolds thought back over the many years that the family had kept residence in Seattle. Originally hired by George Darcy, Lillian had been with the family since shortly after William's forth birthday. During those twenty-eight years, Lillian had maintained her own home with her husband but spent the majority of her time with the Darcys. She had weathered countless family events with them; some seemed insignificant, but many were life altering - the birth of Georgiana, Anne's battle with cancer, and more recently, the passing of Mr. Darcy, himself. Now that her own husband had passed as well, Lillian felt her attachment to the Darcy children more strongly than ever. When William had asked her to move with them to Portland this last spring, she had gladly agreed to take up residence at Pemberley.

Rolling over all of these memories, Lillian hummed along with Ella Fitzgerald as a tune floated out from the CD player that had been built into the kitchen wall. Gradually, she stuffed each pasta square with the hazelnut and Gorgonzola cheese paste that she had prepared earlier that morning. Feathering the edges of each hand-made creation, she gently placed them on the cool, metal drying rack to await their final cooking. Glancing out the window to her left, Mrs. Reynolds admired the calmness around her, a state in direct contrast to the home's owner. For the thousandth time she prayed that this move would bring William that which he did not realize he needed - the permission to stop running from his fears.

Entering Pemberley through the front hallway, William paused at the small oak table in the foyer and glanced at the headlines of The Oregonian he found sitting in its ritual location. "Charles, make yourself a drink. I'm going to let Mrs. Reynolds know that there will be additional dinner guests this evening," William noted distantly as he scanned the article in front of him.

"Sure thing," Charles responded as he moved to the right of the entryway. "I'll meet you out back; the weather's too good to stay inside." And with that, he disappeared down the long hallway.

"Yeah, just give me a few minutes," William mumbled, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. As the sound of footsteps faded, he exhaled heavily. What a day... And, it showed no sign of ending any time soon, as Jane and Elizabeth would be there shortly. A feeling of uncertainty filled him, yet he was at a loss to determine its origin. He could not deny that seeing Wickham at Powell's had shaken him. What was he doing in Portland? But that was not the sole source of his discomfort. William had to admit that he was unaccustomed to socializing. He had met Charles and Jane for lunch on a number of occasions over the last few months, but the addition of Elizabeth to the party for the evening had unsettled him. Accustomed to controlling not only himself but most often his environment as well, William was uncertain of how to deal with Ms. Bennet. He could not predict her actions or words, and that both intrigued and irritated him.

The newspaper unexpectedly fluttered in William's hand, caught briefly by a brisk cross breeze from down one of the hallways. The rustling noise snapped his attention back to the document in front of him. He had been staring at it for several minutes, but lost in rumination, he had not read a word.

Remembering his original task, he quickly put his glasses back on and moved in the opposite direction of the one that Charles had taken, heading past the cloakroom and down the hall towards the kitchen. He had not gone fifteen feet when the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald mixed with a familiar alto voice beckoned to him from the very room he sought. William paused for a moment and just listened. " Old man trouble, I don't mind him,
You won't find him, 'round my door" How many times had he sat in the kitchen, as a boy, and sung along with Mrs. Reynolds as she cooked?

Standing in the kitchen doorway, William leaned against the frame. He watched as she pressed the edges of the pasta squares, moving in time with the rhythm of the music, her entire body swaying just a little. "You really should consider taking your act on the road. People would pay big money to see a singing chef with your talents."

Looking up from the pasta she was stuffing, she noticed William as he moved into the kitchen. "You never tire of teasing me, do you?" her small grin contradicted the tone of exasperation in her voice.

"That I cannot deny," he paused, laughing softly, "but I have actually come here with a purpose. There will be two other dinner guests joining us this evening - Charles's girlfriend, Jane, and her sister, Elizabeth. I hope that's not a problem, perhaps I should have called from the car?" His question was merely a gesture of politeness, as William knew that Mrs. Reynolds always made large batches of pasta.

"No, no...that's fine." Mrs. Reynolds dusted the flour off of hands after placing the final ravioli on the drying rack. "Is there a particular wine you' d like served with dinner?"

Snatching a small piece of bread from the basket on the counter, William ignored the look of disapproval he received from the older woman. "Actually, I hadn't given it much thought, although maybe I should," he said before popping the bread into his mouth.

"Would you like to serve something special tonight?" Mrs. Reynolds inquired on her way into the pantry. In her absence, William seized the opportunity to grab several Kalamata olives from the bowl next to the squares of bread. He managed to get them into his mouth before she returned carrying a bottle of Italian olive oil, though her smirk revealed that she was, indeed, suspicious of his actions.

Attempting to swallow in a subtle fashion, William looked down momentarily. "Jane and Elizabeth's family own a vineyard a little south of here. Avalon Vineyards, are you familiar with it?" he inquired, once again meeting her knowing eyes.

"Yes," she responded, nodding her head, "I believe we have several bottles of their wine in the cellar. Would you like me to look for some?"

"That's a great idea. I'm sure you'll select something to accent dinner perfectly; you always do." The appreciation in William's voice reinforced his words of gratitude.

Smiling honestly, Mrs. Reynolds teased, "You really can be charming when you try."

"Yes, well...that's our little secret. I'll be out back in the gazebo with Charles, will you show the ladies out when they get here?" he paused on his way out of the room. "Oh, and Lillian...thank you." Accepting her smile, William headed towards the back yard to locate his friend.

Heading up Burnside Avenue, Elizabeth was enjoying what was most likely one of the few opportunities she had left to cruise along with the top down this season. She savored the warmth of the sun as it beat down on her, peeking through the canopy of trees that almost completely covered the curving hillside. Down shifting as the grade of incline steepened dramatically, a familiar gurgling sound escaped from the car. She smiled at the throaty noise. It was one of those small things in life that she had come to count on, something to reassure her that everything was moving along normally.

"Lizzy, turn right here," Jane directed from the passenger seat.

Elizabeth hit the brakes and the turn signal simultaneously. "Thanks for the warning, Jane," she quipped as she cranked the wheel to the right and accelerated out of the turn.

"Well, if you would just slow down a little, this wouldn't be a problem. I've never been here either, you know." Jane defended herself in a fashion that had long been familiar to the sisters. After sharing so many aspects of their lives together, a harassing banter was well established between the two.

"Jane, are you sure that our coming here for dinner is a good idea?" Elizabeth asked as they rounded another curve in the road.

"Charles said to turn left onto Derbyshire lane and then follow it until the end of the road." Jane looked up from the directions she was reading. "Why would our coming here not be a good idea?"

"Look, William and I don't exactly have the best track record so far," she explained as she scanned the side of the road for street signs. "If you recall, our first meeting did not end well for either of us, and he just walked away from me not thirty minutes ago at Powell's."

"All of that is true," Jane agreed, "but I still think that perhaps this is simply the result of a basic misunderstanding. Maybe he didn't see you." Elizabeth knew that was not the case, but chose to keep that opinion to herself, as Jane was predisposed to think the best of everyone she knew. Growing more confident, Jane continued, "William would not have invited us to his home if he did not wish to, he could have just as easily suggested a restaurant."

"Still," Elizabeth replied, "I am not so sure that William really wants me in his home. I think that perhaps he was just being polite for Charles's sake."

"Lizzy, first you think he is rude, and now you tell me he is just being polite," Jane laughed. "You can't have it both ways."

"And why not?" Elizabeth queried, as she joined her sister in laughter.

Elizabeth continued to scan the road signs until she saw the one they were looking for. "Here it is," she noted, turning left. "It's just that William left the bookstore in such a hurry, he didn't even say goodbye."

"Well, he said goodbye to me. Maybe he just didn't see you. There could be a very good reason for his quick departure," Jane offered. Trying to avoid her sister's doubting glance, she looked down the street ahead of them. In the distance she could see a black wrought iron fence near the end of the road.

"I think this is it," noted Elizabeth, having observed the same fence. She pulled the car in front of the large gate at the end of the road and rolled down her window. Pushing the button on the metal box that stood next to the car, she shot a questioning look at Jane, who merely shrugged her shoulders in response.

"I certainly hope we have the right place," Elizabeth said with a grin, "or this could be embarrassing."

Jane's laughter was met by the sound of a pleasant voice, "Darcy residence."

"Hi," Elizabeth began. She wasn't entirely sure what to say, as this was her first experience announcing herself to a box. Guessing at the appropriate level of formality she continued, "Elizabeth and Jane Bennet. We're here to see Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley."

"Oh yes, they are expecting you," the female voice drifted out from the box in reply. With that, the gate in front of them opened. As they crept slowly towards the house, Elizabeth noticed that the road they journeyed down had turned to cobblestone. She gazed up at the striking country style Tudor home that stood before her, a generous triangular gable accenting its front entrance. Stopping the car for a moment, she surveyed the scene before her. Discerning several parking spots near the garage, she pulled the Cabrio up alongside Charles's car and parked. The pleasing smell of blooming flowers immediately caught her attention as she exited the vehicle. Scanning the perimeter of the path they had driven in on, she was reminded of an English garden. Hydrangeas, lilacs, and roses blended together with lavender growing up between them, forming a welcoming scene. The rhododendrons, long since bloomed, provided a stabilizing green backdrop that displayed the colorful blooms of the other plants to their fullest.

"Jane, look at this house," Elizabeth said while removing her sunglasses and placing them in her handbag. "I'll bet the view is incredible from here."

"Yes," she agreed, looking around as she stretched her legs. "Mt. Hood must be spectacular from up here."

"You're right," said a voice from behind them, "you can see all of Portland from the back side of the house, and the Cascade Mountains are magnificent." As Elizabeth and Jane turned towards the woman who had spoken, she continued, "I'm Mrs. Reynolds, but please call me Lillian," she extended her hand cordially, "you must be the Bennets."

After completing the introductions, the sisters followed her through a considerable archway cut into the brick wing of the house to accommodate the circular driveway. As they moved up the path and into the entryway, Elizabeth mulled over the idea that one could drive a car through William's home. It certainly made her twelve hundred square foot apartment feel a little less luxurious. If the outside of Pemberley had struck her as remarkable, the foyer she now stood in only reinforced the sentiment. The impressive nature of the entrance hall was not lost on her. With the vaulted ceiling stretching the height of the full two floors and attic space, the room was opened up, leading the eye to an exceptional oak staircase.

Mrs. Reynolds led them down the hall and into a greatroom, which appeared to encompass a considerable portion of the back side of the house. As they passed trough the elongated room, Elizabeth noticed an exquisite marble fireplace along the far wall. Set off by the simplicity of its surroundings and minimal garnishments, the niveous marble appeared clean and crisp against the Wedgwood blue wall it adorned.

Exiting through a set of glass doors, Jane and Elizabeth followed their guide towards a traditional gazebo that was partially shaded by vining honeysuckle. Charles offered a warm greeting to the sisters as he rose from his seat. "Mrs. Reynolds has shown us all the way out here," Jane smiled in response. "It is a good thing, too. I fear we might have gotten lost on our own."

Rising, William acknowledged his guests. "Thank you for showing them out, Lillian."

"Dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes," Mrs. Reynolds said, looking at him with a hint of amusement, "where would you like it served?"

Looking at his guests for a moment, he noted their informal attire. "You know, the weather is very clear today. Why don't we eat in the Tuscan dinning room?"

"Yes," Charles concurred while moving to stand next to Jane, "the view is unmatched from the east rooms."

"Alright, twenty minutes then." With a smile, Mrs. Reynolds turned and headed back into the house.

"We're going to take a short walk around the gardens," Charles declared, taking Jane's hand as he led her out of the gazebo.

Before either of their companions could object, the couple was down the pathway, engrossed in conversation. Elizabeth watched them for a moment, then turned her attention to William.

"I have your book." She reached into the handbag she had tossed on the chair next to her. "You left Powell's without it." Handing him the text, the look she gave him expressed her desire for an explanation.

Unwilling to provide her with one, William refused to meet her eyes and lowered his to study the book in his hand. "Thank you, I appreciate you picking this up for me. Let me pay you for it."

"Oh no, consider it a gift. I enjoyed finding it for you. And besides, I'm sure it's not often that someone finds something to give you that you don't already have."

"Well, thank you, again," he placed the book on the glass table in front of him, wondering once more about her conversation with George Wickham. Did she know him? And if she did, then how? Were they friends? Looking up, he caught Elizabeth's eyes. With no hesitation, she met his inquiring gaze full on; each party voicing their silent questions, yet refusing to reveal any answers. Finally, propriety and frustration surfaced and he spoke, "Would you like to look at the gardens?"

Relieved by the suggestion, Elizabeth quickly agreed, "That would be great. They look quite remarkable from here." She had already noticed the wide variety of botanicals as they traveled up the front driveway. Now, she found herself overwhelmed by one thing - the view.

As they stepped out of the gazebo, Elizabeth felt the warm breeze that sailed up from the valley below them. "Mrs. Reynolds seems like a very nice woman," Elizabeth offered as they moved down the path, "what does she do here at Pemberley?"

"Oh, you mean other than preparing tonight's meal?" he asked, teasingly. Grateful for a non-controversial topic of discussion, he continued, "Well, she does a variety of things. Lillian has been with the Darcy family since my childhood. She recently moved here with us in order to run the household for me." As he spoke, William watched Elizabeth take in her surroundings. She managed to give him her complete attention, while investigating objects that caught her eye at the same time.

"Just how many people does it take to run Pemberley?" She looked up from the roses she had been studying.

Meeting her gaze, he read both the playfulness and true curiosity implied in her question. "Well, let me see," he paused, thinking of the people who maintained his estate, "there is a part time chef who splits the cooking with Lillian, and a full time house cleaner." As he followed her exploring look around the yard, he further noted, "Oh, we also have a gardener who maintains the grounds and pool. He occasionally serves as a driver as well, when we need one."

Elizabeth focused her attention on the underground pool located on the lower level of the two-tiered yard. "The tile work is lovely."

"Thank you," he replied as they descended the stairs towards the object of their discussion. "The rest of the staff is maintained on a need-only basis. Mrs. Reynolds coordinates them for events like dinner parties."

"Wow," exclaimed Elizabeth as they headed towards the flowerbeds that ran across the bottom of the well-groomed yard. "She sounds indispensable. Do you think that we might borrow her some time? Maybe she could coordinate some type of cleaning schedule for Jane and me." Laughing, she added, "We are always arguing over whose turn it is to do the dishes."

Joining her laughter, Darcy agreed, "In such a circumstance, I'm sure she could most helpful. Lillian is an exceptionally organized person. In fact, I'm almost positive that she could easily run the White House." William paused along the path and turned to look at Elizabeth, catching the amusement in her eyes. "Do you enjoy living with you sister?"

"Most days," she replied as she tucked an errant curl behind her ear, "we've been living together for a long time, so we've grown accustomed to each other's habits and pet peeves."

"You are fortunate to have Jane so close," he offered. "I have often missed my sister, as she has spent much of her life away at school." At the mention of his sister, William's countenance took on a more sedate appearance, a fact that did not escape Elizabeth's notice. "It was nice to have her home this summer, though much of my time was spent at the lab." Looking up, he noticed Charles and Jane a few yards down the path. Glancing at his watch, he motioned for them all to move inside. "I think that dinner is probably about ready. Shall we head in?"

"Fabulous," Charles responded as the group converged, "I'm starved."

"Charles," Jane replied with a wink towards her sister, "you are always famished."

Holding the door open for the group when they approached the entrance, he replied, "True, but tonight I am especially hungry. Just wait until you taste Mrs. Reynolds's cooking."

Elizabeth was quite surprised when William led them toward the front staircase and began to ascend. "Your dining room is upstairs?" she inquired with surprise.

"Actually, we have two. The upstairs dinning room is more casual then the one below. It only accommodates up to eight people." As they reached the top of the stairs, William guided them to the right, and then down another hallway, which ran perpendicular to the main hall. "The room was added when this entire wing was built onto the house as an addition in the nineteen forties."

Upon entering, Elizabeth was instantly drawn across the dinning room to the extensive view that was afforded from the second floor window. Four separate mountains were easily visible on such a clear day. Mt. Hood stood out prominently as it showered Portland with its glory. To the north, she could see all the way to Seattle's Mt. Rainier. Overwhelmed by the view of the mountains, Elizabeth had barely noticed the entire city of Portland spread out before her when William joined her.

"Do you like the view?" he asked quietly.

"You can look at all of this any time you want," she said with a touch of awe. "That must be quite a feeling."

William watched her as she took in the panorama. Had it really been twenty-five years since he stared out this window with that same feeling of wonder? Even now, he smiled at the warm childhood memories he had created here while visiting during those summers. When had the incredible assets this home had to offer become everyday to him?

Feeling unnerved by the scrutiny of William's gaze, Elizabeth sought to distract him with a response to his inquiry. "I like the view very much, but then I think there are few who would not."

"Yes, but you seem less inclined to meaningless praise than some," he observed softly.

Flustered by his compliment, Elizabeth quickly changed the subject. "This dinning room has an especially inviting feel to it." She had noticed the deep red walls when they entered, the color rich, but muted. The warmth of the atmosphere was enriched by the oak wainscoting border that ran along the bottom three feet of the wall.

"Hey, you two," Charles called from the table, "are we going to eat?"

"Of course." William led Elizabeth towards the rectangular table, holding out the chair opposite of Jane for her.

"Darcy, did I tell you about the new book offer I received?" Charles asked as he ground fresh pepper across the top of his salad.

Pouring the wine for his guests, William moved around the table. "I don't remember you mentioning another book."

As the red liquid filled her glass, Elizabeth was caught immediately by the bottle it spilled forth from. She would recognize that label anywhere, she had helped to design it. Glancing up at Jane, she could see that her sister had identified the wine as well. "Do you keep our wine in your cellar all of the time, or did you run to the minute-mart to pick that up?" she teased lightly. Elizabeth knew full-well that the wine William had just poured could not be purchased at a convenience store. A 1997 Special Reserve Pinot Noir was both difficult and expensive to come by and only served at Avalon on special occasions.

"To be honest," William began as he took a seat at the head of the table, "I'm not responsible for the wine selections around here. I did, however, ask Mrs. Reynolds to see if we had any Avalon varieties in the cellar. Is this alright?"

At his question, Jane choked a little on the wine she had been sipping. "I'm sure this will be more than fine for tonight," she responded, patting her throat lightly.

"Charles, I am so sorry I interrupted you," Elizabeth changed the subject as she placed a sand-colored napkin in her lap. She could feel the softness of the finely woven linen as she smoothed the cloth over her thighs. "You were telling us about your new book offer, I haven't heard a word about this from Jane."

"I just found out about it this afternoon," interjected Jane, "isn't it exciting?"

"It is!" Charles replied enthusiastically as he looked down the length of the table at his friend. "But William is not interested in exciting work, he prefers the boring life of a scientist."

Setting down his fork William replied, "That's not true at all, I find my work at the lab to be extremely exciting."

"I must agree with William," added Elizabeth, "genetic research might be many things, but it is not boring."

"Darcy," Charles piped up from the end of the table, "you have a supporter." Turning towards Jane, he continued, "Personally, I can't imagine spending all day in a lab; evenings, weekends, holidays. William practically lives there."

"What type of genetic research do you conduct at DGT?" Elizabeth interjected, noticing the look of irritation that had crossed their host's face. Before he could respond, she heard a low rumbling sound emanating from the wall behind her. Glancing around in an attempt to determine its origin, she noticed Mrs. Reynolds slip quietly into the room.

With amazing efficiency, she opened the dumbwaiter that had been elegantly disguised in the wall, and placed a heaping bowl of pasta on the table in front of each of the dinners. "Enjoy your meal," she said brightly. And with that, she was gone.

"Thanks, Lillian," William said to her retreating figure. Turning towards Elizabeth, he watched as she enjoyed the first bite of steaming ravioli. Noting the appreciation in her expression, he continued, "DGT primarily focuses on cancer gene identification. Over the years, we've conducted a variety of research techniques, but currently we are very focused on the mapping of chromosome locations where we suspect cancer genes maybe located."

"Is DGT directly affiliated with The Human Genome Project, then?" Elizabeth inquired while sipping her wine.

"We share information with them," he responded, his interest peaked by her question. "You seem to be familiar with the field of genetics, is it an area of interest for you?"

"Lizzy, you haven't told William about your work with GFR?" Jane interposed while sneaking a glance at Charles, who was grinning in support. "I am surprised."

"Jane!" Elizabeth admonished her sister.

"Don't be embarrassed, you should be proud of the work you do," Jane replied earnestly.

"You're affiliated with the Genetic Foods Research group?" William had not expected this turn of events. Looking down the table at Elizabeth, he realized that they had more in common than he had previously considered. The study of genetically modified foods was not as glamorous as some areas of research, like cloning, but its impact on mankind might very well reach as far. Perhaps he had underestimated the dynamic Ms. Bennet.

As she looked up, Elizabeth was caught in the grip of William's gaze. There was an intensity in the way he watched her that she found invigorating and discomforting at the same time. "I've been a member of GFR for a few years now. The vineyard has participated in several research projects that they've organized, exploring both the cloning of grapes and the genetic modification of certain soil bacteria."

The conversation continued on until Mrs. Reynolds arrived carrying dessert. The Napoleons that she placed on the table were as light as any that Elizabeth had ever tasted. As she contemplated the rich combination of chocolate and cream that united in her mouth, Elizabeth looked up to see Jane staring at her plate, rubbing her forehead gently. "Jane, you don't look very good, and you've barely touched your dessert."

"Lizzy's right, honey," Charles agreed, "is something wrong?"

Elizabeth recognized the pained look that crossed her sister's face, she'd seen it on more than one occasion. Jane had long suffered from migraine headaches, and they were often incapacitating for her. "Is it a migraine, Jane?"

"Yeah," she replied, her voice strained, "I think so."

Charles moved to kneel next to Jane's chair. Taking her hand he suggested that she might lay down in the dark. "I'm sure that William has a room you could lay down in."

"Of course," William cut in, placing his napkin on the table. "That's not a problem at all. I'll go have Mrs. Reynolds prepare one right now."

As he left the room, Jane looked from Charles to Elizabeth, "I'm sorry to cause so much hassle."

"Don't worry about a thing. You don't want to move too far and end up nauseated." Elizabeth smiled at her sister, trying to lighten her mood. "Besides, it's not like you'll get in the way around here, this place is huge."

"Jane," Charles said, stroking her head gently, "we'll both stay here with you."

"I've got clothes in the car that I had packed to take out to the vineyard with me," Elizabeth said, rising from her chair and moving towards the door. "I'll just run out and get them."

"Thanks, Lizzy," the concern was evident in Charles's voice. "I'll get her to lie down while you are gone."

Returning from her car, Elizabeth paused at the door and then decided to simply enter. She moved swiftly up the staircase and towards what she hoped was the dining room where they had eaten. Rounding the corner, she saw William standing in the doorway with his hands stuffed into his pockets, his look a combination of concern and anxiety.

"Did you get everything you need?" he inquired with a hint of unease in his voice.

"Oh yes," she replied with a slight smile. "Don't worry, Jane will be fine. She just needs to take her medication, this happens to her from time to time, and she's learned to deal with it. She'll get some sleep and feel much better." Feeling the weight of the bag she was holding, Elizabeth slid it off her shoulder and set it on the floor before her.

"Here," William said, reaching for the leather satchel, "let me get that for you." Before she could protest, he had the bag in hand and was gesturing down the hallway in the direction she had just come. "Charles is planning on staying with Jane, so I thought I'd show you to a different room," he paused and looked at her, "if that is alright with you."

"Oh," she hesitated momentarily, "of course...that makes sense."

"Good," he said as he continued down the hallway a few more paces, then stopped in front of a door. "I'll leave you here to get settled." He moved into the room and placed the satchel on the foot of the bed. "Jane's room is two doors down, to your right, and there's a bathroom between your rooms."

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, surveying the room briefly. Refocusing her attention on the man in front of her, she added, "I really do appreciate your help."

"It's no big deal," he said, giving her an intense, yet ephemeral look. With a nod, William turned and strode across the room. "I'll be downstairs in the library if you need anything." With that he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Standing next to the bed, Elizabeth surveyed the room as she unpacked her clothing. Setting aside several items for Jane, she selected a pair of jeans to put on herself. The soothing breeze of the afternoon had cooled the air enough to warrant longer pants for the remainder of the evening.

She glanced at her shoes, then enjoying the feel of the thick carpet under her feet, opted to leave them off and go barefoot. Picking up the garments for Jane, she opened the door and almost ran into Charles as he came down the hallway. Startled, she stopped just short of him. "This seems to be my day for bumping into people," Elizabeth noted with laughter.

"Excuse me?" Charles was clearly bewildered by her last statement.

"Oh, nothing," she replied. "How is Jane? Is she feeling any better?"

"Not yet." The concern in his voice was palpable and perfectly accented his expression. "But she took some medicine and is resting. I need to make a phone call, and then I'll lie down with her."

"Thank you, Charles," she responded sincerely, "I know that having you here means a lot to Jane. I'm going to check in on her and deliver these clothes." Parting from Charles, Elizabeth crossed the hallway and knocked lightly on Jane's door.

She entered the guest room quietly and set down the items she had grabbed for Jane on a bench situated at the end of the bed. Studying her sister, she could see that her pain was still increasing.

"Jane, you look horrible," she said, noticing the pasty appearance that her sister's normally radiant skin had taken on. "Charles is right, you should just stay here for tonight. You're in no condition to move. Besides, I've brought up some clothing that I had in the car." Elizabeth moved from window to window, pulling the curtains shut until the room was almost completely dark. As gently as she could, she crossed the room to sit next to Jane on the bed.

"Yes, I think you may both be right." Jane took hold of her sister's hand. "Lizzy, what's wrong? Are you uncomfortable staying here?" Elizabeth's denial did little to convince Jane that things were fine. "Charles seemed certain that William would not mind us staying for the night. Do you disagree?"

"No," Elizabeth pulled together her most reassuring look, "I'm sure that everything will be just fine. I'll send Charles back up, but you get some rest." She squeezed her sister's hand and then stood to leave the room. As she closed the door behind her, Elizabeth glanced down the hallway and wondered what the evening held in store for her. When she thought of the way William had looked at her during dinner, a tingle swathed her skin, electric and warm. But one thing seemed to be sure, if William Darcy was involved, the evening would not be boring.

Chapter 2, Part 3

Posted on Thursday, 7 November 2002, at 4:51 a.m.

August 31, 2002 (cont.)

Music has an unusual capacity to incite emotion, inspire creativity, and evoke memories. The gentle melody, the harmonies sometimes pleasing, yet often dissonant - seeking resolution, and the rhythmic syncopation all wind together to speak to our souls. It has become an integral component of humankind, a universal language. It binds us together.

Wandering the hallways of Pemberley in search of William, Elizabeth was surprised to hear music. The lively reverberations of jazz rolled off a piano and entreated her to seek out their source. Abandoning her search for the library, she could not help but hunt for the origin of such tantalizing sounds. As fate would have it, she ultimately resolved both of her quests in the same location. Elizabeth was amused to find that her journey ended in the doorway to the library, gazing at the sleek black lines of a Baby Grand piano - its classic curves accented subtlety in brass. She was astonished to realize that it was William Darcy's graceful hands that manipulated the keys so masterfully.

Unnoticed by William, Elizabeth watched as the music flowed out of him and through the instrument. All of the tension that he normally carried appeared to be gone, and it was obvious in the line of his neck and shoulders - the muscles that moved freely together as he put his entire body into the performance. Although the piece he played was not difficult technically, he attacked it with a mischievous intensity, and the result was amazing. There was a feeling of lightness in the room, emanating from both the song and its performer, and Elizabeth's mind slipped back to a time when life was simple and uncomplicated.

How many Saturday mornings had she awoken to the thunderous sounds of jazz music calling from the living room? Elizabeth would run down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Sliding into the living room, she would jump into her father's arms and dance the morning away with her sisters. The giggles of little girls would fill Avalon and mingle with the delicious scents of breakfast that floated out from the kitchen. Life can be so care-free and happy as a child. And in this moment, she felt that here, in this room, with this man.

"How's Jane?" William's voice startled Elizabeth and she looked up, suddenly aware that the music had stopped.

"She's resting with Charles." Noticing Darcy as he slid off the piano bench, she entreated, "Please, don't let me interrupt you."

"No, that's alright. I was finished anyway." William crossed the room to the stereo and began flipping through CDs. "I'm not much for performing."

"Well, that's unfortunate. You're very talented." Elizabeth began to roam around the room, taking in the walls of books. "I was a little surprised by the song you were playing," she looked up to catch him watching her. Meeting his eyes, she continued, "It doesn't seem like your style."

"I don't strike you as the jazz type?" William questioned, a hint of umbrage laced in his voice. "I suppose you think that I only listen to classical music."

"Something like that," she replied, picking up on the humorous edge of his final statement. He was clearly not offended.

"Actually, it was a piece that I heard earlier this evening," William said while crossing the room. He paused, resting his hand on the back of a chair. "It just came out when I sat down at the piano." Studying her for a moment, he continued, "I was just about to get some tea. Would you like some?"

As Elizabeth lowered herself onto the couch across from William, she noticed the full tenor voice that now filled the room. "Thank you, that would be nice. It's been a long day."

Elizabeth allowed herself to relax into the couch as William left the room. Closing her eyes, she pulled her bare feet up underneath her and just listened. Per amore, hai mai fatto niente solo per amore...

Returning to the room several minutes later, William found Elizabeth stretched out on the couch, clearly enjoying the music. "Andrea Bocelli fan?" he asked quietly, setting the tea service down gently on the coffee table.

"Are you kidding? I grew up on a vineyard." She opened her eyes, smiling at him. "Did you know that his family owns a small vineyard in Tuscany?"

"Really?" He handed her a cup of tea and then took a seat in one of the leather, high-back chairs. "I suppose that fits with his passionate Italian image."

"True." Elizabeth wrapped her hands around the steaming cup, blowing lightly on its contents. Looking around the room again, she focused on an extensive CD collection. "You seem to have a significant interest in music," she noted with a touch of surprise.

"You didn't think that my only interest was science, did you?" His question was serious, though the teasing glimmer in his eyes did not escape the notice of his guest.

"No...well, maybe." She took that first sip of tea, realizing too late that the liquid was warmer than she had anticipated. Swallowing the hot tea quickly, she continued with her observation. "You just seem to be very dedicated to DGT."

"That I am," William replied. Elizabeth immediately noticed the return of his serious nature. "The lab takes up the majority of my time and energy."

"What is your favorite part about being a geneticist?" She had often wondered what it would be like to work in medical research. Would the thrill of new discovery compensate for the stress of such work?

William was impressed by the question. Most people saw him as a businessman. In fact, her general state of curiosity had begun to peak his interest. Watching her now, he could almost see the wheels turning in her mind - thinking, analyzing, questioning...

When he did not immediately respond to her inquiry, Elizabeth began to study William, wondering if she had somehow stepped too far into his private thoughts. He had pulled back into his own reflections, and she took the opportunity to watch him openly. Gradually, he returned to her, offering up a response that she sensed was real. "It's the dream. We work everyday in hopes of changing the future. I pursue an ideal, a world where lives aren't taken by the cruelty of disease." She could feel his dedication, see the determination in his eyes.

"I'm sorry." A look of embarrassment flashed across William's face. "That must have sounded like a political commercial."

"Don't apologize," she said quietly, "it must be amazing to work in your field. I read an article about DGT in Scientific American recently."

As he studied her, Darcy could not help but analyze her motivation in reading the article. She had not mentioned it during their dinner conversation. Was it a true interest in genetic research? Or, had she merely been curious about him after their first meeting?

"You said earlier that you are working in conjunction with the Human Genome Project, yes?" At his nod, she continued, "I know that some of the private companies who are working in gene identification are patenting each gene that they map-out." Elizabeth's voice perfectly matched her feelings - assertive, but nervous. "Do you mind my asking your opinion on this?"

William was rapidly coming to the realization that Ms. Bennet was more knowledgeable in this field than he had originally considered her to be. He had detected the hint of condemnation in her voice, as she had clearly not attempted to hide it. She hadn't asked if DGT planned to patent genes, but certainly that was her implied question. Running his hand through his short curls, he chose is words carefully. "Genetic research is outrageously expensive. Gene patenting may become a necessary evil."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at his response. "How very carefully phrased." She smiled at him over her tea cup, easing a little of the building tension. Pondering his statement for a moment, she continued. "It is difficult for me to justify the ownership of human DNA. I continue to struggle with the idea."

"As do many experts in the field." William rose from his chair abruptly, leaving no doubt that this segment of their conversation had come to an end.

Watching him as he moved towards the piano, Elizabeth wondered about his reluctance to discuss the subject further with her. Did he question her intelligence? Or, did he find the conversation too personal? Had she managed to hit a nerve?

Reaching the piano, William paused and ran his hand along its edge. What was wrong with him? He was asked these types of questions everyday - reporters, ethicists, students - they all questioned him. Heck, he questioned himself. Turning to look at her, he grappled with his thoughts. Was it the question? Or, was it the woman? Looking down, he noticed his hand tapping nervously next to a book that was sitting on the piano. Maybe a change of pace was in order.

"Do you read much poetry?" William asked as he returned to his seat, book in hand.

Shaking her head she replied, "It is not my favorite reading, no."

"I always thought that women enjoyed poetry. Is it not considered the food of love?" His attempts to remain of a serious nature were betrayed by the smile in his eyes.

Elizabeth considered his question. "Perhaps, for a developed, healthy love. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it is a new or weak love, I am convinced that one good sonnet could starve it away."

Darcy laughed, "Well, I shall consider it a great risk, then, to share some of my favorite poems with you."

"Oh, please don't mind my ramblings." Her embarrassment was obvious. "I'm sure that I would very much enjoy hearing a poem."

William eyed her for a moment and then opened the book.

As he scanned the pages, Elizabeth asked, "Is that the book you bought this afternoon?"

"Here it is." He noted, having located the passage he was searching for. Looking up, he answered her, "Yes, it's the one I found at Powell's."

Softly he began to read to her, the words moving slowly through the air.

As she watched him, Elizabeth suddenly found herself standing precariously at the center of a vortex - thoughts, emotions, and feelings whirling rapidly around her.

The way he held the book with a gentle caress...

The steady cadence of his deep voice as it moved slowly from one line to the next...

The way his hand would subconsciously touch the rim of his glasses every so often...

The spicy scent of the tea as it diffused into the air...

The romantic tenor voice that rolled along in the background...

On he read and the images of his words flooded her mind, threatening to spill over. And then, just as quietly as he began, he finished. Closing the book, William ran his hand down the spine, discerning the topography of the engraving. "I always respected D.H. Lawrence's writing. He was bold, risky, and in many ways before his time."

'Not unlike the man before me,' Elizabeth mused silently for several minutes. The intensity of the evening was finally catching up with her and she needed some time alone.

"I think that I need to head for bed. Thank you so much for the hospitality you showed to me and Jane today." Elizabeth stood, setting her empty teacup on the table. "I don't know if you have any desire to see the vineyard again, but the harvest festival is the first weekend of October. I'm sure that Charles is planning to come down," she paused as he moved to stand by her, "and if you come, I might even be convinced to read to you from my favorite book." Looking up, she smiled as she gave him a quick wink.

Carefully, William reached out and ran his hand over her cheek. "I'll look forward to it." He met her gaze quietly, trying to sort out the conflicting emotions of the evening.

Placing her hand on top of his, Elizabeth gave it a gentle squeeze, "Good night, William." And with that, she turned and was gone.

Continued in the next section