Posted on Saturday, 5 November 2005

Elizabeth awoke to a day promising glorious sunshine after days of rain kept her from any excursions into the countryside, and she was anxious to see the brilliance of the woods around her beloved Longbourn as soon as may be. Her descent from above stairs surprised two of the housemaids who thought the hour a bit early even for Miss Elizabeth. She smiled archly at their astonished expressions, gathered her warm brown spencer and rust colored bonnet, and hurried out the door.

The sun was just peeking through the branches, painting the sky in soft glowing pinks. Elizabeth breathed deeply, thinking nothing could smell as sweet as the morning air in Hertfordshire. Noticing there was no one about to see, she skipped down the path to the woods until breathlessness forced her to slow to a walk. She pulled her gloves tighter, determined to visit Oakham Mount after an absence of many weeks. There was much to think on, and a walk of several miles would give her ample time to consider all that had transpired since Michaelmas, especially in regard the occupants of Netherfield.

That Mr. Bingley was much captivated by Jane was perfectly clear. True to his word, now that Jane was recovered from her cold he was planning a ball at Netherfield to celebrate his arrival in the neighborhood. Although it did not often happen, in this instance Elizabeth was in perfect agreement with her mother.

She had said, “for Mr. Bingley to wait until Jane were recovered to hold his ball must be a mark of his affections for her.”

Elizabeth thought Jane, in turn, seemed equally smitten with Mr. Bingley. Only her natural modesty and sense of propriety and decorum prevented her from showing more affection than her frequent smiles and demure manners might disclose.

Mr. Bingley seemed in little doubt of Jane’s regard for him, and even his family had acknowledged her. Bingley’s sisters Elizabeth found to be conceited and proud, thinking themselves quite above the neighborhood. Though they had found no one else in Hertfordshire worthy of their notice, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst did have a kind opinion of Jane to redeem them slightly in Elizabeth’s mind.

Of Mr. Bingley’s friend, Mr. Darcy, I understand the least.

She could not imagine what bound the friendship of two men of such opposite dispositions. While Bingley was amiable and kind, out- going and friendly, Mr. Darcy was distant, quiet, introspective, and reserved.

He is often exceedingly rude and arrogant, and from what Mr. Wickham had related, could not in any manner be construed as kind.

What Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley could possibly have in common to account for their friendship, Elizabeth could not fathom.

This unflattering first impression of the man had, however, given way lately to puzzlement. In company, Mr. Darcy persisted in his haughty manner, treating most of the neighborhood as though they were utterly beneath him. Yet, on the few occasions when she had encountered him on her morning walks in the woods around Longbourn and Netherfield he had been more agreeable though he usually had little to say.

He remains quite an enigma.

At the sound of leaves crunching underfoot, Elizabeth recalled how fond she had always been as a child stomping through the leaves in autumn, especially on such a sun filled morning as this, and deliberately made her foot drag to accentuate the sound, laughing at herself for so childish an antic. When she had exhausted that pleasure, she remembered the purpose for this walk, to wonder at how the season had changed Oakham Mount, and hastened her steps thinking nothing could encroach upon her mood.

But her steps and her smile did falter when a curve in the path revealed the object of her previous reflections. Mr. Darcy sat upon fallen tree directly before her. Elizabeth frowned. She had no wish for his company at present but could see no way to pass without his seeing her.

When he seemed unaware of her presence, however, not looking up from the letter he was reading, Elizabeth watched him a moment, thinking his appearance markedly different. Running his fingers though his hair and sighing, the usual Darcy haughty manner was nowhere to be seen, and he seemed pensive, and perhaps a bit sad.

She reasoned that he did not look as though he would welcome company, and turned to make her retreat before being discovered. Darcy suddenly became aware of the slight movement of her bonnet ribbands fluttering in the breeze, and looked up clearly astonished to find anyone else about. His eyes glistened in the morning light, and he blinked several times as he rose and bowed slightly, tucking the letter into his jacket pocket. She frowned at now being clearly unable to avoid some conversation.

“Mr. Darcy,” she said, dropping into a small curtsy.

“Miss Bennet,” he replied, his cheeks flushed.

“I did not expect to see anyone else about.”

“Nor I,” he said softly giving him time to recover.

“Forgive me, you are well?”

“Yes, I am well, I thank you.”

“Are you often out this early, Mr. Darcy?”

“Yes, Miss Bennet, it is my habit to rise early, either to walk or horseback for both exercise and reflection.”

“Oh, I am disturbing your solitude, forgive me.” She curtseyed, ready to leave him.

“You are not disturbing me, Miss Bennet,” he said civilly, almost affably. “I am grateful for the company. Are you also often out this early?” His mouth curved upward slightly in what would be called a smile on any other face.

“Yes, very often though perhaps not quite this early, but I do enjoy long walks in the early morning, when the dew is still upon the grass and leaves. It is a great restorative for the remainder of day.”

“I entirely agree, Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at hearing her sentiments echoed by him. “Then you have read Wordsworth, Mr. Darcy?”

His smile widened. “I have indeed, Miss Bennet, and I share many of his views. ‘An Evening Walk’, of his rambles about in the countryside is a particular favorite.”

“I am on a ramble of sorts today. I am going to Oakham Mount, to see how autumn has changed its view of the surrounding country.”

“Is it far, Miss Bennet?’

“A little more than two miles from here, perhaps, a little more than three miles from Longbourn.”

“May I accompany you on your walk, Miss Bennet?”

Her eyes widened with disbelief and she laughed. “Mr. Darcy, was it not but a week ago that you were astonished at my walking three miles to Netherfield in the mud?”

“That is true, Miss Bennet, but knowing now your fondness for long walks, it no longer surprises me.”

“Unlike that walk to attend a feverish sister, today is to be a happy excursion, Mr. Darcy.”

At Elizabeth mentioning her sister, Darcy’s expression grew more serious. “I asked to accompany you today that I might gain your opinion, if you would give it, on a matter involving my own sister.”

“Yes, of course, if you wish, Mr. Darcy.” She was surprised at his request of her, wondering why he would ask her, of all people, for advice.

They turned their steps together in comfortable silence at first, both enjoying the sights and sounds and smells of the woods on the early autumn morning. She pointed to a lark in a nearby tree singing to the new day; he finally remarked on the abundance and variety of trees. This made Elizabeth wonder at him not being so very bad after all.

“I think it pleasant that we can both admire the beauty of nature and we can agree on the works of at least one poet, Mr. Darcy.” He nodded.

She smiled and began to regard Mr. Darcy with a slightly more respectful eye, and was in the midst of her re-assessing her opinion of him when he stated, “On that level at least, I think you and I are well suited, Miss Bennet.”

Her astonishment at such a statement gave rise to Elizabeth’s inability to respond in any other manner but to laugh. “A compliment, Mr. Darcy? And so soon after sunrise! For you to consider that we are alike in any way is flattery and condescension such as I would never have expected!”

“Neither flattery nor condescension, I assure you, Miss Bennet, but a bona fide compliment to one perceptive enough to appreciate the beauty which surrounds us.”

“Those who live in the country are especially aware of its beauties, sir.”

“Indeed.”

“The air in Hertfordshire certainly seems to agree with you, Mr. Darcy.”

“There are many things in Hertfordshire that agree with me, Miss Bennet.”

“Truly?” Elizabeth smiled.” And are those other things open to disclosure, Mr. Darcy, or shall they remain hidden behind your famous disapproving stare?”

Astonished at her statement wholly unexpected he defended himself. “I do not stare disapprovingly.”

“Yes you do, sir.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do,” she laughed again. “You are doing so at this very moment! Please, do not suppose you can intimidate me. I am quite unaffected, sir.”

“You are? I mean…I am?”

“Most assuredly,” she replied more seriously.

Her disarming smile left him in no doubt of her continued humor on the subject, but also her attempt to placate one not accustomed to being teased.

No, it would not do to offend him just as I am beginning to warm to him.

He looked away then, at the trees, further up the path, anywhere but her face, as his cheeks took on a distinct flush. “Forgive me, Miss Bennet. I never thought that you…that anyone would perceive it so. I never thought I stared to such a degree that it was noticed.”

“I assure you, sir, your behavior has not gone unremarked. Others have taken note of it.”

“Others?”

“There are those who think that you watch only to find fault.”

He bristled. “I assure you I was doing no such thing.”

“Then why do you look at me so intently, sir?”

Here he faltered, looking down at the path again, avoiding her eyes.

“I did not know that I had done so.”

“Mr. Darcy,” she laughed, “you need not tell me why if you would rather not, but do not waste breath to deny it.”

“Miss Bennet, I assure you, disapproval was the farthest thing from my mind.”

Now taken quite by surprise at his statement, it was she who stared at him, leaving him to smile at the sudden reversal of positions.

Swallowing she said, “then all those times when you were caught staring at me…you were not thinking how much you disliked me…how much you disapproved of me or my family?”

He shook his head. “I had noticed you and was merely…curious.”

Elizabeth knew not how to respond to this. That he had noticed her she could only be flattered, but that she could mistake his notice for disdain and disapproval left her with more to think on. She dared not look his way, nor could she speak as he continue to explain his behavior.

“I have been…curious about you ever since the party at Lucas Lodge.”

Now here was true astonishment! “Indeed?” What was she to think of this sudden admission by a man she had always been certain thought meanly of her?

Have I been truly blinded by my bias of him? Had his slight at that first Assembly dance so offended me that I have since dismissed his every subsequent pleasantry and civility as having mischievous intent?

To have her bad opinion of the man challenged now after so few minutes of honest conversation between them made her wonder if she ever had any discernment at all when it came to human nature!

Could my powers of deductive reasoning be so faulty? Surely not after so many years of correct discernment. No, I think it rather…that Mr. Darcy is quite adept at hiding himself from the world that until today I had no idea of his thoughts?

She could contain herself no longer. “But why…why have you not spoken to me before of this, Mr. Darcy?”

“At first, it was mere curiosity, and there was no need to speak to you or to anyone about it. Since then my curiosity has developed into interest, but there has been no occasion to speak to you about it privately. I have hardly seen you and always in company. How would it have been perceived, do you think, if I had engaged you in private conversation at a public event? What would your mother have thought, or indeed the entire village for me, ‘a man of ten thousand a year’, to single out a-”

“A country gentleman’s daughter with little but her charms to recommend her?”

“No, indeed,” he protested. “Do not even think it so, but do allow me to explain.”

They stopped and faced one another, he slightly anxious, and she with folded her arms across her chest and eyebrows raised. Her expression of doubt gave him pause that she might be unwilling, perhaps unable to listen reasonably to what he was about to say.

“Allow me rather to pose a hypothetical question. Suppose, Miss Bennet, you were given an offer of marriage by, say your cousin who was with you and your sisters when Bingley and I met you in Meryton last week.”

She stared at him trying to account for his sudden change of topic. “Mr. Collins?”

At first thinking it preposterous that the silly little man would give her the time of day, she then recalled how very attentive he had been of late that she wondered if perhaps marriage was his intent.

“Forgive me, Sir, but how does this possibly relate to what we were just speaking?”

“I gather he is a respectable clergyman who is in line to inherit your family home?”

Elizabeth’s simple nod served to affirm his statement. It seemed common knowledge that Longbourn was entailed away from the female line, and that Mr. Darcy had heard of Mr. Collins prospects for inheriting her home.

“Should you accept him you could one day become its mistress. Is this not so, Miss Bennet?”

Elizabeth chose her words carefully. “Mr. Collins is all you say, but he has made me no offer. I have no reason to either hope or suspect that he will, and even if he did, hypothetically speaking, I would…”

The gentleman raised his eyebrows, wisely keeping his own counsel to allow her to finish her thought.

“I…would refuse him. He and I would not suit, you see. We are…too different in our dispositions, our…way of thinking.”

Why did I just disclose that to him, practically a stranger to me?

Darcy silently continued staring intently at her until she looked away, thinking this conversation had gone far beyond being comfortable. Intent now to concentrate on a pebble which her foot was toying, Elizabeth refused to speak further, refused to even look at him. Darcy waited in vain as she displayed an obstinacy to rival his own in her refusal to say more.

“Come, come, Miss Bennet. You have never before been at a loss for words.”

She could feel the slight tug at the corners of her mouth, allowing that even though embarrassed, she felt a gentleness in his voice that seemed consoling in his coaxing.

“The truth, Miss Bennet, is that although your cousin may stand to inherit Longbourn, he is but a clergyman and is therefore beneath a gentleman’s daughter even to ensure your family’s estate.”

The deepening color of her cheeks was confirmation enough for Darcy’s suspicions, but Elizabeth was not content with his understanding.

“You mistake me, sir,” she said at last. “It is not his profession that I would object to.” She continued to list the reasons her mother had been in favor of such an offer. “As to fortune, it would be an eligible match. Since he is my father’s own cousin, I can have no objection to his family and connections, but…” She bit her lip. “…there are other considerations-”

One of which is his being the most obtuse individual in all of England!

“Yes, Miss Bennet?” Darcy's eyes were intent upon her.

“…which I will not discuss with you at this juncture,” she finished, turning away.

Why did I as much as admit that I would turn down even this hypothetical match, perhaps the only proposal I am ever likely to receive? Why would I admit such to this mere acquaintance?

Seeing her distressed by the turn of their conversation he sought quickly to make amends.

“Miss Bennet, forgive me. I did not mean to upset you. I only wished to make the point that for almost everyday of my adult life I have had to fend off many unexpected and unsolicited proposals in public settings as well as private ones, for myself and for my sister. I have grown wary of giving encouragement to anyone after having met with so many who, with very little incentive, choose to credit me with intentions I do not possess. Can you not comprehend my reluctance to acknowledge my interest in you without knowing if you would even welcome it? How many unwelcome proposals do you think would be required to give you a distaste for society and social occasions, Miss Bennet?”

Elizabeth sighed as she considered his explanation.

Indeed, such effrontery would explain some of his reserve from society. How differently would I act at having to fend off ambitious parents and prospective spouses at every turn as he has admitted?

She did not think she would be as courteous if many were of the caliber of her fawning cousin, or especially, if the rhetorical suitors of whom Mr. Darcy referred bore any similarity to the simpering, vapid flattery of Miss Bingley.

His politeness to that woman seemed beyond belief and which speaks of his abilities to civility learned no doubt over years of diligent practice.

Still she was unsatisfied. “Why are you telling me this?”

“To explain my hesitancy at expressing my interest in you.”

Elizabeth looked at him, still disbelieving his interest in her when he could have any woman of his choosing, shook her head, and turned to watch where their walked while he continued to explain.

“There have been a very few who caught my eye, Miss Bennet, or I thought sufficiently interesting and compatible in personality or in similar pursuits and diversions. However, I lost all of them to other men when I did not make them an offer with sufficient alacrity. No sensible woman would continue to love where there was no encouragement, Miss Bennet. One such interest ended quiet abruptly when I discovered some deceit in her intent.”

After several moments he continued, “I had all but given up when Bingley invited me here to give my opinion on his decision to let Netherfield. My friend worries that I am too serious and wishes to divert me.” He smiled hoping for one in return. He was not disappointed.

“I have been wondering how your friendship with him developed, Mr. Darcy?”

Elizabeth was glad of the change in a topic from the uncomfortable discussion of marriage, better held by herself and Jane in the quiet of her bed chamber than with any man, especially one whom she barely knew.

“Bingley and I met at Cambridge. He was three years below me. I noticed immediately how easily he made friends with his openness and naiveté. There were those who would take advantage of his generous nature, but he laughed of their teasing, and they respected him for it, and we became fast friends soon after with many shared interests.”

“So you and your studious classmates took him under your wing and spent all your time in the library?” She smiled at the thought of Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy poring over books.

“Some of us did actually study, and pass our courses, Miss Bennet.”

“All of you, Mr. Darcy?”

“Even Bingley did well enough though he was more inclined to enjoyment than study. I kept him out of real mischief and trouble as much as I was able. I will refrain from telling you any particulars due to the dubious legality of some.” He was laughing, a sight Elizabeth found so inviting she could not help but joining in.

“So, you have taken prodigious care of him ever since?”

“I have tried to, Miss Bennet. Bingley, as you have witnessed has an engaging manner that lends itself to making friends easily. His trusting heart is also easily imposed upon. He is fond of pretty girls some of whom thought to take advantage of him, and he has learned a hard lesson of how a pretty face can hide a cold heart. On more than one occasion I have saved him from himself.”

A sudden idea entered her mind, and she spoke before she could think the better of it. “What is your opinion of Jane? Do you do feel Mr. Bingley needs to be saved from her? That her beauty hides a cold heart?”

The gradual ease and comfort that had grown between them suddenly evaporated as dew drying in the morning air to be replaced by a tension as she stared at him.

“Miss Bennet, having personal experience with the fortune hunters of the ton the pervasive assumptions of your neighbors gave me some alarm, especially since Bingley has yet to declare himself. Your sister has shown no remarkable regard for Bingley, but I fear she would feel an obligation to obey your mother in accepting him should he make her an offer. I am naturally fearful that my friend will be forced into a marriage without respect or affection.”

Elizabeth gasped at the perceived arrogance of the man’s brutal honesty in his statements, especially as regards Jane’s affections, and managed to resist the temptation to unleash a tirade down upon him. She was only able to control her temper by taking several deep breaths to calm herself.

Finally in the most neutral voice she could muster she pointed out, “Mr. Darcy, you have explained your reservations in dealing with ladies until you were sure they were worthy of pursuit. Pray, tell me what you think is appropriate behavior for a woman when she is interested in a gentleman such as Mr. Bingley?”

He walked in silence for a moment. “I see where your question tends, Miss Bennet. You think that your sister and I conduct ourselves with similar degrees of reserve until we are sure of our object.”

He paused to ponder this thought. “There is nothing insincere in Miss Bennet’s behavior, none of the flirtation and fawning that is so common and so abhorrent among the ladies of the ton. Her behavior, by comparison, is most proper,” he admitted. “She is demure and smiles and accepts Bingley’s attentions with a degree of decorum that I would wish all ladies to emulate.”

Elizabeth nodded to make her point. “Because Jane did not flirt openly with Mr. Bingley you thought her heart not easily touched when the opposite could be true. Your exposure to flirts and fortune hunters has jaded you, sir, so that you no longer recognize proper behavior in a fledgling relationship. You did not even recognize your own behavior in another, and so judged my sister falsely.”

Gazing now upon her flushed cheeks and disconcerted expression, Darcy was aware of how upset she was which mollified his own pique at her reprimand, and thoughtfully considered Elizabeth’s accusations in light of her caring nature for the welfare of her sister that he reasoned was equal to that of his for his friend.

“You are quite correct, Miss Bennet. My experiences with ladies of the ton has influenced my impressions of what is proper. Your sister is everything to be admired, and had she acted any other way would have immediately put me on my guard about her. We none of us have done very well, have we? My reserve has left you unaware of my interest toward you, and your sister’s reserve has left Bingley in doubt of her regard.”

“I can attest, Mr. Darcy, for her regard toward him. I have every reason to believe there is the potential for a deepening esteem.”

“Then I shall inform Bingley of it when next I have the chance. In truth, he seems more attached to your sister to than I have ever seen him. I believe it was that which stirred my protectiveness on his behalf.”

This statement was encouraging, but then Elizabeth worried. “Would his sisters, would they object should he decide to make an offer to Jane?”

“Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst express nothing but admiration and regard for your sister in my hearing. I am certain they would accept her as a welcome addition to their family should Bingley declare himself.”

“That is good to hear, for Jane’s sake. I would not wish her to be at odds with them should others make mention of our lack of fortune or connections.”

“If your sister truly feels for him as you say, I doubt Bingley would care about her fortune or connections. He would rather think of her as a treasure being bestowed upon him.”

Her eyes widened at this statement, a statement so considerate and kind, so opposite to anything Darcy had ever before voiced of one so decidedly below his station. “Well, if Mr. Bingley thinks of her so, then I shall be content in the knowledge that at least one of my sisters has found happiness.”

Another silence fell as Elizabeth thought of Jane and Bingley’s possible happiness while Darcy mulled over Elizabeth’s poor opinion of him, an opinion he knew he had earned, and one that required amendment before any further progress might be made.

They walked a long way in thoughtful silence when Darcy paused to take in their surroundings. “Miss Bennet, I trust you know where we are.”

“Certainly, Mr. Darcy, for I have lived in the area all my life. It is all familiar to me.”

“Then it is fortunate that we are together on this stroll, for I am unsure how we have come.”

She laughed, unable to resist teasing him. “You admit to being lost, Mr. Darcy?”

“You find amusement in my admitting to such a thing, Miss Bennet? Have you never gotten lost?”

“No, never, sir! I always know where I am.”

A small smile appeared on his face. “Never?”

“Well,” …I may have been…temporarily misplace,” adding quickly, “but only occasionally and only for a short duration.”

“Then I am at your mercy. I trust that you will not abandon me in the woods, but will return me safely home by nightfall?”

She laughed merrily. “That would indeed be an interesting tale to relate to your grandchildren, sir, of when on a visit to a strange shire you were left to fend for yourself in the forest by one of the local young ladies. How would you embellish such a story?”

Glad that their comfortable ease in company had returned, he smiled and joined in the friendly banter.

“Embellish, Miss Bennet? Do you mean lie to the children? What kind of a grandfather do you take me for?”

“I would imagine you as one who could spin a tale to amuse and entertain the little ones before bed, Mr. Darcy.”

“All right, then, let me see. Lost in the woods for how long, weeks, months?”

“A day or two would be appropriate for this story, Mr. Darcy, for there are estates all about you.”

“Very well, two days stranded in the woods…by an uncharitable young lady-“

“Yes, yes, we know all that, Mr. Darcy,” she retorted. “The children have already been told how you became lost, and now they wish to know how you survived it.”

“If you insist, Miss Bennet,” he finally agreed. “Let me think a moment, children. It was a very long time ago, you see…”quieting to think. “If there were berries or roots, I could consume them, and a stream for fresh water would no doubt be accessible.”

“No doubt,” Elizabeth acknowledged.

“I assume you would not wish me to relate the killing and consuming of forest creatures in my story?”

She stopped climbing and said in a chastising tone, “Indeed not, for we would not wish to frighten the children.”

“Quite so. Well, there is the abundance of wild hickory nuts and chestnuts this time of year, and acorns or walnuts?”

She nodded following beside him. “And how did you survive the night, Grandfather?”

“I started a fire, of course.”

“No, Mr. Darcy.”

“I can attest to my own ability to start a fire with only wood in hand, Miss Bennet. And it is very cold at night this time of year. Are you sure I did not start a fire?”

“Quite sure, Mr. Darcy.”

“Then how did I keep myself safe from the wild creatures of the forest?”

“Wild creatures of the forest,” she laughed. “Oh, Mr. Darcy, we would not wish-“

He nodded finishing her sentence, “--to frighten the children.” He found he loved to hear that laugh, deeming it more musical than a song.

“As you say, sir,” she said enjoying this strange and delightful interlude.

Why had I so disliked Mr. Darcy before?

“Then there is but one alternative. I climbed into a tree and slept in its branches.”

She looked dubious. “You, climb a tree? Are you quite sure, Mr. Darcy?”

“You doubt me, Miss Bennet? Remember I was once a boy you know. I have climbed trees before, and I assure you I still have that ability.” He paused before replying, “I doubt that you have ever climbed a tree, Miss Bennet.”

Her eyebrows rose as hint of her still doubting his solution, and noting his own expression, she knew he believed her to be like all other girls who were appalled at behaving as their male counterparts in anything involving frogs, bugs and the climbing of trees.

She shook her head and smiled. “You would be quite wrong, Mr. Darcy, for I am a country girl with the freedom to…engage in childhood activities frowned upon by polite society due only to my gender.” She added, “I wonder if this alters your impression of our still being well suited on any level.”

They had reached the object of their walk as she smiled at him and took the arm he offered to assist her to sit down on a convenient dry rock. He returned her smile and he sat beside her.

“Do you still pursue that particular activity, Miss Bennet?”

With cheeks still made crimson by a combination of embarrassment, exertion and the wind, she raised her eyebrows in affirmation. “There are advantages to being willing to brave decorum in order to have a greater joy.”

“Indeed? Such as?”

“Such as…to walk a greater distance in order to see the beauties of the natural world.” She motioned with her arm to the prospect from their vantage point.

He looked out to the far away hills and the valleys below, the abundant array of fall colors, all sparkling with the early morning light. It was a magnificent sight, almost equal to the vistas near Pemberley. They were silent for a moment, enjoying the glory of the season before them.

After many moments, he broke the silence with, “No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in an autumn face”*

She smiled at his quotation. “John Donne?”

Darcy nodded, no longer surprised at her knowledge of the works of another of his favorite poets for he remembered her telling of her father’s extensive library and realized that, like himself, she must find enjoyment in reading.

They both looked on the unfolding beauty of the valley below for some moments more before either found it necessary to speak.

“This place always humbles me and puts whatever troubles me into proper perspective. It makes me aware that whatever actions I take in my life they will be of little import in the grand scheme of things.”

Darcy sighed, his voice a little sad as if an unwelcome reality had encroached upon the moment. “I wish my sister could see this and gain the same insight.”

“Your letter was from her? Is she in good health?”

“She is in excellent health, thank you,” adding softly, “It is her self worth that concerns me.”

Taking the letter from his pocket he stared at its folded pages. He held it out and said, “would you do me the honor of reading her letter?”

“Mr. Darcy, your letter was from your sister. I…will read it of course, if you wish it…but are you sure? Its writer meant it only read by the person to whom it was addressed, would you not agree?”

“I would entirely agree under normal circumstances, but these circumstances cannot be viewed as anything resembling normal.”

Seeing her reluctance, he added, “Miss Bennet, since arriving in Hertfordshire, I have come to consider you are one of the most sagacious and generous persons of my acquaintance. Your devotion to your own sister is proof. I think you, more than anyone would be able to aid me in my dealings with my sister.”

Elizabeth did not know how to respond to such a statement of such apparently long-standing regard. “Mr. Darcy--” she began, but he interrupted.

“Please, Miss Bennet, just read her letter and tell me what you make of it.”

Tentatively pulling it from his hand, she looked down at the finely scripted handwriting on the outer page before unfolding them.

10 October 1807
Matlock House
London, England

It began innocuously enough as any Elizabeth had received from her own sisters whenever she had been apart. Georgiana talked of the weather, and the activities of family and community.

Dearest Brother,

The beginning of this October shows signs of an early snow by the degree of winter activities begun by the townspeople. Many a merchant and seamstress shops have already sold out of the heavier fabrics and muffs that ladies find so fashionable this year. Aunt Matlock says she will have to suffer through with her fur-lined pelisse from last year that she had made in Paris, but because of its exquisite tailoring and warmth she will not complain. You were well to advise me over spring to plan ahead to have my winter coats made before the summer was done. You have insight into even ladies fashion it seems, brother. Unlike your younger sibling, you can do no wrong in all your endeavors.

I write on an overcast autumn day at our aunt and uncle’s amid a tumult of activity by the entire household. It seems that spring cleaning is not merely relegated to the spring as Aunt Matlock has the entire staff scouring each and every room from top to bottom for what purpose I cannot fathom for I have yet to ever see any dirt, cobwebs, nor dust even in the corners. Indeed, she seems a woman obsessed when I hear her demanding various footmen and maids to tasks for the duration. If the weather had not been so crisp this day, I would be tempted to have the phaeton readied for a ride in the nearby park for the mere relief of not having to listen to it all. Aunt says it is to prepare for the coming holiday when all her family and friends will join her here in December. It gives me a headache just to have so very many orders readied for her servants. Truly, brother, if I were to be in charge of such an army awaiting my leadership, I would lock myself in my bedchamber, never to emerge.

Why even the town has joined forces to busy themselves with a myriad of activities toward the coming Christmas. Never have I known them to do so quite so early as this. Indeed, how much preparation is truly necessary to have all in place on time? Can they not just allow that a schedule be maintained without the frantic attitudes of people? Aunt and Uncle Matlock have made mention of their not being able to enjoy walking on the streets now for fear of being jostled about with all the townsfolk about shopping. At least they have given me leave not to have to join them on any of their excursions out of the house. I am content to dwell in a quiet room devoid of other persons contemplating my offenses, and perfecting my skills at the pianoforte. That is the one setting in which I seem able to excel.

As Elizabeth read on Miss Darcy imparted her pleasure in hearing that Darcy had met some of the neighbors without speaking of anyone in particular.

Brother, I am sure you are enjoying the still gentle autumn to the north in Hertfordshire. Mr. Bingley must have a charming estate in which he no doubt has kept you entertained. You mentioned that you accompanied his family to several affairs in the neighborhood, and so have met some of the populace. In your next letter you must be more forthcoming with any impressions you have of them and if you feel Mr. Bingley has made a wise investment in his choice.

With Miss Bingley there and her sister and brother, Mr. & Mrs. Hurst, you must be quite in your element with wit and music. Or are you playing the roving wanderer with your habit of early morning walks or rides on horse? Miss Bingley propensity to rise at a later hour of the day must give you some respite from all her desires at conversing with you. I am sorry for that sentence, brother. It was an unkind thing to say, and I am heartily sorry for having even thought it. Miss Bingley has such confidence I must admire her ability to keep many an undeserving gentleman at bay. Perhaps I should have emulated her instead of being the stupid waif ready to believe any flattery spoken to me.

The next pages expressed no enthusiasm when Georgiana spoke of her debut by next fall and how unprepared she felt for the obligations the event would bestow upon her.

Uncle Henry has informed me of the upcoming plans not only for the holiday, but also those of the winter balls and for the festivities surrounding my entrance into society during the next season. It fills me with such dread, brother, to be on exhibition for all the prospective spouses and their families to ogle as though I were a prize cow or sheep at one of those country fairs. How Aunt and Uncle Matlock think I would be able to undertake so daunting a task is beyond my comprehension. They seem to think that I will rally under such pressure, and be able to accomplish all with the ease and aplomb of my older sibling. They will not hear of my wishes not to carry out the preparations that I will refuse to attend. Against all my pleas to the contrary, they have begun to hint to some of their friends of the upcoming event. I had repeatedly applied to them that I am incapable of so intimidating an event, how mortified I would be and unable to stand before anyone without fainting, but they refuse to hear my entreaties.

Her script became less legible as she pleaded with her brother to intercede with her aunt and uncle to postpone a social engagement that she felt unworthy of and at every mention filled her with fear.

I must beg you, dear William, to come to my aid in this matter. I have done all in my power to turn them from this path, but to no avail. I am now at your mercy to have you entreat them on my behalf. You must make them hear that I cannot attend such a display with all the responsibilities that will surely follow. I am not ready for this, and in truth will never be accomplished enough for so heavy a burden. You have always been the strong one in our family, while I have been the weakest of persons.

The next lines were statements of remorse and regret. Miss Darcy was clearly very despondent dispirited.

I do not deserve to ask you for your succor due to my transgression that caused such discord between us. I know there is nothing I can do to redeem myself in your eyes, for what I did was so unforgivable that I should be cast out with the refuse, never to be seen nor heard from again. But, brother, I am begging you to relieve me of this burden, take it from my shoulders. Please, you must help me, brother, else I will be truly lost. I remain

Your loving sister,

Georgiana

A sympathetic tear trickled down her dewy cheek. “Oh, dear” she sighed, refolding the letter and handing it back to him. “Mr. Darcy, your sister is very distressed.”

“Forgive me,” Darcy replied softly. “I had not the intention of upsetting you as well. I thought that as you have several younger sisters, you might perhaps be able to give me some insight, some guidance in dealing with such despondency in a younger sister. Perhaps you are too sympathetic yourself.”

“Sometimes it is the sympathetic heart that can provide insight.” He nodded. “Her letter spoke of her terrible fear of her coming out. Are you aware of what would have caused such fear?”

“Georgiana has always been shy, a product of her upbringing perhaps.”Darcy paused before adding, “but she seems worse now than when she was younger.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Her last page alludes to some event that she seems unable to forgive.” She asked, “Is she often despondent?”

He sighed, shaking his head, and playing with the long stalks of wild grass that had grown between the rocks. “No, I have never known her so. Although we have survived the loss of both our parents, Georgiana has me and her cousins and aunts and uncles to support her. She has always been a little reserved, but has never been despondent…until now.”

Remembering Mr. Wickham’s description of a proud, haughty girl, Elizabeth wondered if Georgiana had become much like her younger sister Lydia. “Is it possible that she is simply being willful as young ladies of a certain age are wont to be when they do not get their own way?”

“No, indeed,” Darcy protested. Elizabeth noticed his softened tone as he added, “She has always been tractable and obedient even as a child, and has never given me a moment of trouble in her life.”

“Never a moment of trouble in fifteen years! When Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst described your sister as a lovely and accomplished young lady, I never realized she was such a paragon.”

He had no reply other than a nod at so apt a description of his sister painted by Bingley’s relations.

“Since your sister is not prone to despondency, but rather merely a normal lonesomeness when you are parted, and has never given way to any obstinacy before now, I am at a loss to understand her fearfulness to be in society that she describes in her letter unless she has been troubled by some dreadful misfortune significant enough to make her wish to withdraw indefinitely at her tender age. As her nearest relation and, judging from her letter, a most beloved one, Mr. Darcy, you must know what has happened to work such a change in her.”

“You are clever, Miss Bennet, to deduce that from but one letter and a few questions. Very discerning, indeed.” He closed his eyes, his expression dismayed.

She lowered her eyes and sighed. “Then there has been some traumatic event? I will inquiry no further as I see it pains you to speak of it.”

He shook his head. “My feelings stem from a helplessness to aid my sister as she flounders in true pain, but if by our discussion we may formulate a means to assuage her pain, then I can bear to speak of it if you can bear to hear it.”

He hesitated to continue.

“Anything you say I will hold in the strictest confidence, Mr. Darcy.”

A sad smile appeared on his face. “Of that I am certain, Miss Bennet, else I should never have broached the subject with you. It is not that which makes me hesitate to divulge the particulars.” He paused searching her face to see only concern and gentle curiosity. “I hesitate because the incident involves a person of your acquaintance, whom you might perhaps have been deceived into admiring.”

“A person of my acquaintance? Whoever can you mean?”

“I speak of George Wickham.”

“Mr. Wickham, but what has he to do with this?”

“Everything, Miss Bennet. My sister’s fear of society and feelings of unworthiness are all due to Wickham! He used her to avenge himself on me.”

Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief as she remembered details of what Wickham had related to her.

Wait. Had he not accused Mr. Darcy of having treated him badly, but would never call him into public disgrace? Then why would Mr. Darcy create such a lie involving his own sister?

“Avenge himself? Why, because of your refusal of the Kympton living?”

“Is that what he told you? That I had merely refused him the living out of spite?” Darcy sighed disgustedly and began threw a few pebbles over the cliff before continuing.

“Of course, he will have told you that my father supported him in his education, and that my father’s will stipulated that a valuable living be given to him when it became vacant. I am sure, however, he did not also disclose that several months after my father’s death Wickham came to Pemberley advising me that he had no wish to make the church his profession and asked instead for a sizeable compensation, which I gave him in lieu of the living for I knew Mr. Wickham would not have suited in making the church his career. About five years later when he had depleted his funds and the living fell vacant, he applied to me for it, and this time I did refuse him. I am sure you will agree that I was entirely within my rights, and that in doing so I did not disregard any part of my father’s will. George then devised a plan to charm my sister who was but fifteen into believing herself in love with him and planned an elopement. His object, of course, was her fortune of her 30,000 pounds. I made an unscheduled visit to her, and by miraculous chance was in time to thwart his design. It was months ago, but she is still left in low spirits, without confidence to make any decisions regarding her future.”

Elizabeth was all astonishment at this revelation. “How…how could Mr. Wickham have done such a thing? He always seemed so…”

“Charming? Likeable? He has always been so, but he is also a man without principles, and not to be trusted. He was the son of my father’s steward, and we grew up together, so I know of what I speak.”

Darcy looked at her face her and spoke seriously. “Please, Miss Bennet, you must promise me that you will put your sisters on their guard. It would not do to see any of them taken in by him.”

“I promise I shall warn them as soon as may be, Mr. Darcy. I do not know exactly how, but I shall say nothing of your sister’s situation.”

“I thank you, and to protect the other young ladies of the area, I will make Wickham’s character known to Colonel Forster myself.”

Elizabeth’s raised her eyebrows. “I wonder whether Colonel Forster will believe you, Mr. Darcy”

“The Colonel seems a sensible man. Surely he will give weight to my account.”

“I am sure he would not refuse to listen to you, Mr. Darcy. I only wonder whether he will believe you over one of his officers. If Mr. Wickham has told the same tales in the officers’ mess that he had told me, then Colonel Forster might well consider that you trying to publicly slander Mr. Wickham.”

“The events I have related to you are not known only to me, Miss Bennet. My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, has been privy to all the circumstances and can verify my testimony. He is in London at present. I will ask him to write to Colonel Forster if confirmation is required.”

“If you and your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, can convince Colonel Forster, I am sure he will have Wickham quietly sent away from here, make him resign his commission.”

“That would ease my mind considerably,” Darcy admitted. “I would prefer him not prey on the people of Meryton.”

Elizabeth paused before remarking, “How unfortunate then that the villagers will, in all likelihood, never know to whom they owed their salvation from such a fate, and would still feel you had ill treated them.”

“Treated them ill?” Darcy bristled. “I have never ill treated anyone in Meryton, Miss Bennet!”

Elizabeth suppressed an incredulous laugh, and merely smiled. “Do you not recall our first encounter, sir, at the Assembly ball where gentlemen were scarce and more than one lady was in want of a partner?”

Coloring perhaps from his recalling the exchange between himself and Mr. Bingley, Darcy seemed a little discomforted and asked, “Does my declining to dance constitute ill-treatment of the entirety of Meryton, Miss Bennet?”

“Perhaps not of every member of the village, Mr. Darcy, but only to those who wished to dance and of their mothers who wanted you to single out their daughters. You had not been long in attendance before you slighted my own mother when Mr. Bingley was introducing you to Jane and me.”

“I am never comfortable when a perfect stranger invites me to dance with her eligible daughters,” he said indignantly, his cheeks a little pink.

“That is hardly an excuse for walking away from a new neighbor in mid-sentence, sir. She was excessively insulted, and rather vocal about feeling offended. Not long after that you committed the still more grievous offense of slighting one of her daughters by refusing to dance with her, when Mr. Bingley offered to introduce you.”

At this the color drained from his face, and his jaw dropped. “You heard that exchange? Miss Bennet, it was a churlish remark meant only for Bingley’s ears to have him leave off me. I have no recollection of your acting offended at the time, though you must have been.”

“I will admit I was offended, and I later laughed at your absurdity with my friends, but I must further admit that overhearing your remark colored my opinion of you –an opinion which your behavior in all our subsequent encounters seem to confirm.”

“My mood at that time was not high after what had so recently occurred with my sister.”

“The Assembly dance was just after Michaelmas, and the incident at Ramsgate happened when?”

“About a month previous. I had just settled her into my aunt and uncle’s townhouse before coming to Netherfield. She cried pitiably the entire journey from Derbyshire to London, and once there she refused to speak of the incident, but instead began to play the pianoforte for hours at a time. I never reproached her, but she felt that she was somehow to blame for the incident, and would not hear of me telling her of her innocence, that others were culpable. I had no wish to leave, but my aunt thought it best for Georgiana not to have me there until Georgiana had forgiven herself for what she perceived as her own poor judgment.”

“It is understandable, then, that you had no wish for frivolity. Why did you not insist upon remaining behind at Netherfield if you had no wish to go out into society?” Realization came to her even as she posed the question. “You did not tell Mr. Bingley. Why ever not? Surely, he, of all people would have understood your wish not to attend a dance, and made sure his sisters left you to yourself.”

“He was so cheerful, so eager to come. I thought perhaps his mood would help lighten my own. I had not realized that we would all be on exhibition at the Assembly Rooms. Once in place my only instinct was to hold myself aloof, and I did not think my behavior would be taken as anything beyond a simple and natural reserve.”

“I am afraid it was, Darcy. In a place as small as Meryton, what you see as natural reserve is seen as rudeness and arrogance.”

“They are entitled to their opinions. It means nothing to me.”

“Do you not wish to acquit yourself in the eyes of those you have offended?”

“Miss Bennet, I doubt it even possible to change their opinions. A good opinion once lost is lost forever.”

“I am sorry to hear you say such for I do not believe it so. How can there be redemption if a poor opinion can never be supplanted by another more favorable one? Is not forgiveness one of tenets of our faith?”

“Yes, of course, Miss Bennet, but I question your likening making amends for a slight to repenting a sin.”

“A single act of penance may go a long way toward redeeming you in the eyes of the neighborhood, Mr. Darcy.”

“A single act of penance? What single act could possibly redeem me in the eyes of more than four and twenty families?” He stared at her and she gazed back expectantly. At length he narrowed his eyes. “Do you mean that I need to apologize to your mother, Miss Bennet?”

“It would be a very good start, Mr. Darcy. If you can move her in someway toward forgiving you, the entire village will know of it before the next evening, and your transformation will be proved.” Here she could not resist teasing him. “And it would give relief to all her family from hearing her abuse of your character.”

A thought suddenly occurred to Elizabeth. “Did neither Mr. Bingley nor his family notice any change in your mood or behavior when you arrived at Netherfield?”

“None of them mentioned it if they did notice.”

“If your closest friend, your host and his family noticed no change in you, how can you say you acted so differently than your normal aloof self?”

He thought a moment. “You recall Bingley did speak to me at the Assembly, Miss Bennet, in the harshest terms of which he is capable; he abused me for standing about in a stupid manner rather than dancing.”

With an arch in her brow, Elizabeth gently admonished, “with such gentle remonstrance, why would you need to check your behavior? As to Miss Bingley, she sees you as a man without fault, and so would never disapprove or disagree with anything you said or did, Mr. Darcy. She has high hopes of you some day.”

“You are very astute, Miss Bennet.”

“I need no great amount of wit to see what she is about. Though you are most gracious, it seems to all except her that you do not appear to encourage a match.”

“No, Miss Bennet, I do not.” His gaze held a new intensity that caused Elizabeth’s heart to skip a beat in surprised wonder, and had to struggle to press her point.

“So then, you have no friends to influence your behavior, Mr. Darcy, no one to take you to task should you again assume your haughty manner?”

“It has been quite some time since had I needed such admonishments, Miss Bennet. You have been the only one in many years to take me to task for anything.”

“Well then, perhaps you need fewer friends afraid to bear your wrath, and more with the courage to tell you of the consequences of your actions.” Then she quipped in a flippant manner, “I might be of service to you there since you have no parents to teach you manners?” Her hand flew to her mouth immediately as the impropriety of her words. “Oh, Mr. Darcy, please forgive me,” she said contritely. “How could I forget…”

He gently took her hand and said quietly, “Pray, do not make yourself uneasy, Miss Bennet. I have been reconciled to the loss of my parents for many years. It has been harder on Georgiana – perhaps more than I realized.”

“How old was she when your parents died?”

“She was only a baby when we lost our mother and not quite ten when our father died.”

“Then…you were just of age when it fell to you to raise her?”

“My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam and I share her guardianship, but since his entry into military service, the task has rested mostly on my shoulders, and I fear I have been sorely lacking as the incident at Ramsgate proves. I should have let my aunt and uncle raise her as they suggested. Perhaps my aunt’s influence could have been a natural guide and confidante teaching her to recognize what treachery some men are capable, and thereby safeguarding Georgiana as I could not.”

“Why did you not allow them?”

“My father had willed it so, and truth be told, I would not have had it otherwise. Georgiana was the last of my family, and I did not wish her away from me.”

Elizabeth nodded unable to disagree with his motives, wondering if she would have done likewise had she been presented with a similar circumstance. She wiped a tear from her face saying softly, “I am sorry, Mr. Darcy. I feel so ashamed.”

“Ashamed? Why?”

“For believing so absolutely in Wickham’s story after so short an acquaintance, for discounting my own father’s suggestion that perhaps his tale of woe had been embellished or twisted. For allowing one unkind remark to blind me so that Wickham could impose his false history on me. For stubbornly dismissing even Jane’s gentle suggestion that you may improve upon closer acquaintance. For the mortifying conviction that I have far less sense than my father has always credited me with, and for misjudging you so dreadfully. What is there not to be ashamed of?”

“Pray, do not be so severe upon yourself, Miss Bennet. You are only one of many who have been deceived by Wickham. You are not to blame, for having been taken in by his guile. As for misjudging me…if the neighborhood in general has perceived my behavior as you say, perhaps you have not misjudged me so very badly. My situation may yet improve, you know. If you will help me make amends to your mother, I will no doubt improve upon the neighborhood as well.”

“I am sure that will be the case, Mr. Darcy.” Here they paused.

“There is still the matter of Georgiana,” he said. “What shall I do about her?”

“What about inviting her to Netherfield? Would she come, do you think?”

“She would certainly come if Bingley invited her, and I encouraged it, but to what purpose would we invite her?”

“Why to attend the ball, of course, and be diverted with lively music and dancing, after you and your cousin arrange for Colonel Forster to have Wickham resign from the regiment and quit the area.”

“Georgiana has never attended a ball in her life, and in any case, she may not wish to attend an event where she knows so few people.”

“You have not yet asked her opinion on the matter, Mr. Darcy. And you must do so quickly that you may retrieve her to have her become acquainted with several members of the neighborhood.”

“But she is so terribly shy. To subject her to such a crowd, it would be torture for her.”

At this Elizabeth laughed. “Are you so very sure your sister is so much like you, Mr. Darcy? Having younger sisters I can attest to their need to have pleasant diversions. In the company of people her own age who do not know of her recent troubles, it might bring her out of herself.”

“She has had not many friends her own age while growing up,” he admitted. “Perhaps you are right, Miss Bennet. I shall speak to Bingley immediately, and if he is agreeable, I will send her word express.”

“Will you go yourself to collect her?”

“Yes, Georgiana is with our aunt and uncle in London. I can be there and back in a day with an early enough start.”

“I do hope she will agree to come. The air in Hertfordshire is uncommonly bracing. Perhaps it will agree with her as it does her brother,” Elizabeth teased.

They each took one last look at the view from Oakham Mount.

“And is your Pemberley this beautiful, Mr. Darcy?”

“Yes, it has many such beauties, Miss Bennet.”

“Then I am glad for you.”

Mr. Darcy smiled, and there was again that intensity of expression in his eyes that had so surprised her before. He opened his mouth to speak, and then seemed to check himself.

“Perhaps it is time we returned, Miss Bennet,” he said instead, holding out his hand to help her to her feet. “I have much to do today, and we will both of us be missed soon.”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy, I believe you are correct.”

They went a little ways in silence when he said, “Thank you, Miss Bennet.”

“You are quite welcome, Mr. Darcy,” she replied, “but I am at a loss to know what you are thanking me for.”

He smiled. “For everything, really, I suppose. For letting me share your walk and for listening to my troubles. For believing me about Mr. Wickham, and for speaking honestly to me. For being…a good friend to one who scarcely deserved your consideration.”

She smiled back. “You are very welcome, Mr. Darcy,” adding, “we have come a long way on our walk, have we not? Much more than three miles.”

“Yes, Miss Bennet,” he agreed. “Much more than three miles.”

Epilogue

Within a day Wickham’s character had been exposed to his commander, and he had been forced to resign his commission. With alacrity and concealment of night he quit the area to the consternation of many of the merchant he had swindled and of several young ladies who had hopes to dance with him, and most assuredly to the great relief of Darcy and Elizabeth. Georgiana arrived the following day at Netherfield where she was welcomed with varying degrees of pronounced delight from the neighborhood.

One of the first visits was to Longbourn with her brother and her host to be introduced to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Darcy watched while Elizabeth’s plan came to fruition, seeing his young sister begin to slowly emerge from her despair. With Elizabeth and her older sister treating Georgiana in such a gentle manner to coax her opinions, and with even Elizabeth’s younger sisters’ enthusiasm and aplomb trying to elicit descriptions of London’s sights, he saw Georgiana begin to be whole again, becoming the lively young girl Darcy had known before Ramsgate.

Darcy, with Elizabeth’s assistance, exerted such a degree of charm on Mrs. Bennet that her attitude softened toward him to the point that Mrs. Bennet thought him almost as agreeable to that of Mr. Bingley.

The ball at Netherfield was a success by anyone’s standards with plenty of ladies and gentlemen to make up the dance sets, and plenty of lively conversation and white soup to be had. Elizabeth’s younger sisters did not make a spectacle of themselves in any embarrassing displays to chagrin Elizabeth, and the general gaiety and enjoyment resulted, very shortly thereafter in not one but two announcements of attachment by the gentleman residing there. It seemed the air in Hertfordshire did indeed agree with Elizabeth and Darcy to help them find a clearer understanding each of the other.

The End

*Author’s notes: Please forgive the gross inaccuracy in the time line as to the date of the ball. In this story the ball magically occurred several weeks after this conversation to give Georgiana time to acclimate to Hertfordshire and for Mr. and Mrs. Bennet time to adjust to the fact that Lizzy did not dislike Mr. Darcy so much as she had previously professed.

Time line and outline of story A Clearer Understanding

Sept 29 Bingley takes possession of Netherfield
Oct 15 Mr. Collins’s letter arrives
Oct 15 Meryton assembly
Nov 12 Jane invited to dine at Netherfield
Nov 12 Jane’s illness.
Nov 13 Elizabeth goes to Netherfield
Nov 14 Mrs. Bennet goes to Netherfield
Nov 15 Darcy begins to feel in danger of being too attracted to Elizabeth
Nov 16 Darcy adheres to his book
Nov 17 Jane and Elizabeth leave Netherfield
Nov 18 Mr. Collins arrives at Longbourn
Nov 19 Mr. Wickham arrives in Meryton
Nov 20 Dinner at Phillips
Nov 21 Bingley visits Longbourn
Nov 22 rain until Nov 25
Dec 15 Ball at Netherfield*