Beginning , Section II, Section III, Next Section

CHAPTER 9

Posted on Saturday, 3 September 2005

Elizabeth and Teresa Gardiner sat contently on a rug and talked amiably. Paul Bennet preferred the rocks that were some meters away from the sandy spot they had chosen. Now he was sitting on them as comfortably as only fishermen managed to do and he was reading Elizabeth’s published articles, with a proud smile brightening his face. He had pulled off his shoes and was absent-mindedly moving his feet in and out of the sea underneath him. Although it was January the 7th, the sun had appeared warm, sending its rays to heat the skin, the flesh and the soul, giving birth to an unexpected feeling of bliss. The sky had the most beautiful blue color Elizabeth had ever seen and she could not trace even a tiny cloud in the horizon. The sea mirrored the sky’s exquisite color. The dark green shades in the water, caused by the trees that dominated the mountain behind the beach, added a cryptic charm. The scenery was so peaceful and serene that Elizabeth wanted to drink from the sight, to imprint the image in her mind in order to be able to bring it before her frequently in future. She wished she could paint but her unskillful hand and lack of talent could not do justice to the feelings inspired. She longed for Will. She wanted to share this with him. She suddenly felt the urge to write something, anything, to remind her of all these precious thoughts and feelings in future. But she had no means for that at present, so she continued her conversation with the woman that sat next to her.

Teresa Gardiner was a good-looking, middle-aged woman who had followed her dream and passion for archeology and had never married. She traveled all over the world and had worked in Asia, Africa, Latin America and Europe, choosing this small island in the end. She decided to dedicate the rest of her career to the miracles the ancient Cycladic art had created. She had lived many adventures and had confronted many dangers successfully. Her experiences had filled her with knowledge, wisdom, understanding and compassion for people’s misfortunes. Elizabeth felt at ease with her immediately. Trusting her instinct, as well as her father’s opinion, she confided in Teresa. The latter just listened to everything, without interrupting, offering a warm comforting hug instead of useless advice in the end. Now they had already dropped the subject of William Darcy and were chatting about less serious topics.

“So, does everyone call you Elise like your father?” Teresa asked.

“No, actually my father is the only one that calls me Elise… No, not the only one, now I have added one more to the list.” She replied smilingly.

“Well, I’ve been listening to your father’s warm praises of his beloved Elise for so long, that I can not really call you anything but Elise. But if you don’t like it, I am willing to impose discipline on myself.” She said half-seriously.

“No, no, Elise is fine with me.” Elizabeth smiled warmly. “I have always associated it with my father’s memory and it’s special for me. Has he told you why he has always called me this?”

Teresa winked mischievously and then said proudly: “I guessed it!”

This is the right woman for my father! I’ll make sure to see them both happy soon, Elizabeth thought. She wanted to know more.

“You guessed?”

“Well, it wasn’t difficult. Everyone who knows Paul is also acquainted with his adoration of Beethoven. What is more natural than to call his child after such a beautiful piece?”

“Do you like Fur Elise as well?” Elizabeth wondered if their musical tastes would be alike.

“My heart aches each time I listen to it… So fragile, so bittersweet, such hidden agony and fervent passion in the middle! And then the first melody reappears and ends so evenly, so tenderly, as if whispering goodbye…” Teresa said with a dreamy look on her face.

Yes, their music tastes are alike too. Elizabeth thought contently. As she was imagining this pair walking down the aisle with loving faces, her father approached them, bringing with him the pile of previous issues of ‘Meryton’ he had perused. He kissed his daughter’s cheeks and sat on the rug, between her and Teresa, saying:

“My dearest Elise, you could not make me any prouder. You have chosen a wonderful job and you are performing marvelously!”

Teresa embraced Elizabeth lovingly:

“And you know, Elise, your father never bestows praise easily. Ask any of his colleagues. Ask me!” She whispered teasingly.

“Do tell me, Teresa!” Elizabeth cried very amused. “I am afraid that I had idolized him all these years.” She continued in the same tone. Her heart felt light this day. The past wasn’t casting its shadows over her anymore. The conversations with her father, the time they had spent together, as well as the exploration of her true feelings and fears had worked wonders on her. For the first time in years she felt released from her own demons. Now, she could admit that she had made mistakes; she could judge more properly her former actions as well as the actions of others. Elizabeth regretted some decisions that she had made, but she had no intention of being miserable because of them. The past didn’t haunt her anymore; she could think of it and speak of it and joke about it with relative ease. She was determined to learn from it in order to build a solid future happiness. She was feeling it: her wounds were healing.

“So, I’d be most grateful if you set me straight about him.” Elizabeth told Teresa.

“But I wouldn’t.” Paul intervened, as Teresa opened her mouth to speak and they all laughed.

“Elise, this magazine you work at, is it very old?” Teresa decided to change the subject.

“The late Anne Darcy started it, about thirty years ago.”

“Anne Darcy? The Anne Darcy that did the wonderful work in Latin America? Anne Darcy is your Will Darcy’s mother?” Teresa asked leaving Elizabeth speechless. Paul shared her astonishment as well but not to the same degree, so he could speak.

“You knew her?”

“Knew her?” Teresa repeated with emotion. “She was my best friend; she was the person that I admired the most! The best woman I have ever met. So loving, so devoted to her mission!” Teresa’s spirit had flown away and she looked as she was traveling back to Latin America, reliving her youth. Suddenly her expression changed from a contented one, to one full of pain, as she exclaimed: “Oh, Anne, why did you have to go to Africa? Why did that car…” She stopped, evidently too hurt to continue.

Elizabeth tried to impose self-discipline and collect her thoughts. It seemed that every conversation found its way to the mystery of Anne Darcy. She had heard many versions: the favorable reports from her ex-colleagues at Meryton who adored her and the negative descriptions of William and Wickham. William, though, had never accused her of being a bad mother the few years she had lived with them. She remembered him telling her that he needed her. Elizabeth suspected that his pain was caused by the fact that he was deprived of a very affectionate mother and not an indifferent one. As for Wickham…the least she could say about him was that he was not a man to be trusted. So, what was left? An enigma, a puzzle, a mystery that she had not yet come to solve. In fact, she had not cared to solve. But, somehow, she knew that it was important. For her, and for Will too. She prepared to listen to Teresa’s version of the story, which, she believed, would be the closest to the truth.

“Teresa, this is important. I have heard so many things about her… I need to know the truth. I am afraid that William holds much against her.” At Teresa’s frowning, she hastily added: “She hurt him too much by leaving without an explanation.”

Teresa’s features became less tense.

“I can not enlighten you in that aspect, I’m afraid.” She began. “Anne Darcy had many photos and used to recount lots of stories about her two angels, but that was all about her former life that she ever shared with anyone.”

Teresa didn’t fail to notice Elizabeth’s look of disappointment.

“But I can tell you that she loved them more than her own life. Her decision to leave them was not a simple whim. She was forced to do it, I am certain of that.”

Elizabeth still didn’t look convinced.

“All right, I’ll tell you what I know and you can form an opinion of your own. No prejudice, ok?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“Anne had already lived in Colombia for five years when I arrived there. I met her in a library. We were both doing research… in very different fields. I was studying something related to art, as always, while she was investigating drug plantations and drug dealing.” Teresa paused and Elizabeth looked at her pleadingly, as if she couldn’t take a moment’s delay in finding the truth. “You see, Elise, Anne Darcy had devoted her life, her whole existence, to the war against drugs. Whatever I say, I cannot do justice to her passion, to the sacrifices she made, to the threats that she received and ignored. I don’t know what you have heard about her but she has saved lives! Really, Elise, I do not exaggerate. She sabotaged the plantations, she insisted on better information, she created alternative job programs for the farmers and yes, she managed to reduce the production. The big drug-dealers never forgave her. Even I cannot understand her passion though I will never stop admiring her.” She stated firmly while Elizabeth’s mouth was agape and showed no intention of closing anytime soon. Teresa paused for a moment, as if she was making a decision, and then whispered hastily, as if afraid that someone would listen to her: “Personally, I don’t think that her death in Africa was an accident.”

Elizabeth was stunned. She had never speculated on Anne Darcy’s life after running away from home, but she was rather inclined to believe that she had led a comfortable life in South Africa and not one full of deprivations in Latin America. After the initial shock, one thought prevailed: William must know. She felt a new wave of tenderness for him. She couldn’t remember a thing regarding his disastrous proposal anymore. Only images of their happiest moments came to her and filled her with bittersweet longing. She couldn’t know a thing so important for him and his family and not share it with him immediately. Especially since she knew how much his mother’s behavior had made him suffer. There were still questions unanswered; she felt that there was more to the story. Still, the thought that this could be the key that would unlock the gate of pain in his heart and set the man she loved the most free, almost overwhelmed her. I have helped myself, now it’s time to help him.

“I believe,” Elizabeth started hesitatingly, “I believe that it is time for me to return.”

Her father nodded understandingly.

“Will had no idea about his mother’s whereabouts, I am sure of that.” Elizabeth continued, talking to herself rather than addressing the other two, “And it will be difficult to persuade him to accept the facts. But I know that he needs it. And it must be done soon.”

“Of course, my dearest. Secrets and hiding are not good for anyone.” Paul said calmly. “As soon as we return home, we’ll have a look at the airline schedules and decide.” Then, after hesitating a little, he added. “You know, Elise, I was contemplating your suggestion from the other day… You know, about coming to England for a few weeks… and I have talked to Teresa about it… Would you mind if we both joined you?” He said with a sheepish look, avoiding his daughter’s surprised eyes.

Elizabeth however was not displeased in the slightest. In fact she was thrilled that her father had acted upon her advice and pursued Teresa Gardiner. She would return from her trip with two people that she loved and knew that she could count on. She had not dared to hope that things would turn out so good when she had gotten on that plane on December 25th, feeling that she had lost everything. She embraced them both, kissed them on their cheeks and jumped up.

“Let’s make haste!” She cried with enthusiasm. “We have so many things to prepare!”

Paul managed to find tickets for the day following the next. Elizabeth was thrilled at the prospect of seeing William so soon. Her impatience increased with every passing hour and in the end she was certain that she would not have stood being away from him even a day longer. She spent her remainder of time in Greece with Teresa, talking about Anna Darcy. In order to please her friend, she found in the small collection that she always carried with her of some issues of ‘Meryton’ the editorial of which was written by Anne Darcy. Teresa devoured them with a zeal that even Elizabeth was lacking. She studied every page that her friend had written or supervised and many times Elizabeth saw tears in her eyes. She became accustomed to Teresa’s murmuring or laughing while reading: Phrases like “How right you are, Anne.” Or “Serves them right, Anne!” Or “Anne’s subtle irony!” were constantly on her lips, so Elizabeth didn’t pay attention to her. She withdrew to another corner and went on packing. Thus she didn’t notice Teresa’s frowning, or her exclaiming: “What is this? It’s odd!” And she was very surprised by her gentle tapping on her shoulder, followed by the question:

“Excuse me, Elise, but what is this? ” As she handled a note to her.

“I’ve never seen it before. Where did you find it?” Elizabeth answered, very astonished.

“It was in the magazine, stuck to one of the pages. What can it mean?” Teresa was baffled as well.

Elizabeth let a gasp escape her as she read this:

Stop your wife before it’s too late. For all of you. You know me too well, George. I don’t forgive mistakes.
J.W.

Georgiana put on her pajamas, lit the fireplace, found some popcorn and sat on her favorite couch to watch Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘Rebecca.’ In other cases, she would have been most happy to be able to relax this way, but on this particular occasion, she was not at all content. She knew that William and Charles’ plan would be at stake if she showed up at the party. Still she could not help sighing heavily at the prospect of missing all the fun. The moment so many people were waiting for had arrived; but she wouldn’t be there. Her brother had promised to bring her the first copy of the morning paper. Well, that was something.

William, Charles, Richard and Monika appeared, coming down the stairs and presenting the group of people that would definitely draw all the attention to them in the course of the evening. Georgiana felt proud of her brother. He looked even handsomer than usual in his black tuxedo and white shirt. Even though Darcy hated tuxedos as much as he hated this kind of parties, they made him appear to the best advantage. Actually, his sister doubted that there could be one woman who did not find the sight of him breathtaking. She felt certain that even if Elizabeth was still furious with him, she could not have resisted him this night.

Charles was charming and resembled something of his former self. Only those who knew him extremely well could notice the difference. His smiles were neither as frequent nor as genuine as before. His childish enthusiasm and happy manners were replaced by more restrained and less spontaneous reactions. Welcome to the dark side, Georgiana thought and laughed inwardly.

Richard’s appearance justified all his admirers’ screams each time they saw him. He wore a tuxedo as well, that accentuated his masculinity. His perfectly shaped body and broad shoulders were combined with a teenager’s smile, destined to break some more hearts. Tonight however, his smile was not as innocent and heartfelt as it used to be. He seemed ill at ease. Georgiana wondered why, since her cousin had nothing to want payback for. Was he so devoted to his family or should she seek the cause elsewhere?

Monika appeared next to Richard, and, without doubt, she was the revelation of the evening. She, who never wore anything but trousers and T-shirts, had now chosen a fabulous evening dress that revealed for the first time her perfect silky, airy silhouette. Its color was dark green that matched her brown-green eyes perfectly. In fact, it was the first time that Georgiana noticed the color of her eyes, as well as the rest of the charming features of her face. She had let her hair loose and now it danced around her shoulders, touching at times Richard’s back and causing abrupt and unexpected small reactions in him.

They were all worthy to look at – for hours in fact.

“I see you are ready for the campaign.” Georgiana joked. “Are your pistols ready and loaded?”

“Mine is.” Monika answered.

Richard coughed violently, while the rest laughed.

“Well, I see we have some absences here.” Georgiana said somewhat hesitatingly.

“If you are concerned for my sister,” Charles answered with an irony that surprised even him, “You must know that she would never miss the chance to show off and seduce my friend here with the big fortune.” He said pointing at William. “She will join us there.” He finished and a pause followed, as no one wanted to comment on his words. Charles broke the silence again addressing Darcy. “By the way, Will, if you ever happen to tell her that you are in love with Elizabeth Bennet, please make sure that I am there. I want to see that.” He said with an evil grin and Darcy decided to answer him.

“If things go well with Elizabeth, Charles, I will let you tell her that Miss Bennet is the woman of my dreams. Actually, I do not want to see that!” He said and as the rest laughed, some of the tension was removed.

“No, no,” Georgiana finally spoke. “I was wondering about…”

“Me?” Alex suddenly appeared from the kitchen holding some popcorn. He wore jeans and a T-shirt and for some unknown reason Georgiana considered him the most charming person that evening. “As I explained to my generous employer this morning, much as I admire the gentlemen’s plan, I really wish for a quiet evening. So, since my services are not needed, I am resting tonight.” He paused to regain courage and then gazing directly to Georgiana’s eyes, he continued: “Would you like some company? I haven’t watched ‘Rebecca’ for ages and I’d love to!”

“Yes, yes, I’d love to… I mean that I’d like to… I mean that your company is very welcome.” Georgiana finally managed to say and averted her eyes. But then, they returned to him, as if she couldn’t help it. He was smiling and his brown eyes were shining. She smiled back, shyly at first but then more and more broadly. William didn’t fail to notice this. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he saw Charles and remembered that he had promised himself never to interfere in his loved ones’ relationships. Maybe I’ll just call them a little later, was all that he could content himself with.

“Shall we?” He said as they left the house.

CHAPTER 10

Posted on Sunday, 18 September 2005

“I’ll have a martini, shaken, not stirred.” Richard stated.

Most faces turned to look at the four of them. It was true that they could not avoid drawing attention. Darcy and Bingley were two of the richest and certainly the two handsomest bachelors in England. Moreover Darcy hated social gatherings and the opportunities to look at him in those sexy tuxedos were extremely rare. All the women, single or married, teenagers or middle-aged, fortune-hunters or not, were determined to make the most of it. William was therefore obliged to bear with good humor all the hungry eyes that were devouring him since his entrance into the room. Charles wasn’t paying attention to anything except the door, waiting for Jason’s appearance with a tight jaw and clenched fists. It seemed that hatred was the only feeling that touched his heart that evening. Richard, who usually felt completely at home at parties, tonight was evidently more nervous than ever. The mysterious woman walking by his side, who drew lots of male eyes on her and reminded him nothing of the casual style of his bodyguard, deteriorated his condition with every passing moment.

“See how the rumors about his undertaking the ‘James Bond’ role have begun?” Monika addressed Charles to help him relax a little.

“It’s not my fault that I like it this way!” Richard said a bit too defensively.

Monika looked at him surprised by his unusual reaction. Then her eyes turned to William who was sipping his champagne silently, dark shadows spreading across his face.

“You guys are not good company tonight!” She sighed defeated.

An irritating voice was heard after this remark.

“Not good company? William? My dear girl, how little you can see in people!”

It was Caroline. Monika hated it when anyone called her a girl, but Richard grabbed her arm and they moved away before she had time to react. William spoke to Caroline with a false smile.

“So, Caroline, I take it that you can read my mind then?”

She thought that she was making excellent progress. This is what happens when Elizabeth Bennet is not in my way! Caroline congratulated herself on managing to throw the Bennet girls out of the picture.

“After so many years of…” She paused to add reluctantly “…friendship, I flatter myself that I can.” Caroline said proudly.

“And how would you call my mood tonight, Caroline?” He continued feigning great interest.

“The mood that pleases every woman.” She whispered seductively, moving closer to him. Charles, who had been watching them closely, called upon all his self control to refrain from slapping his sister.

“Then it is too bad that the woman I want to please more than anyone else is NOT in this room.” William said with such coldness and palpable anger that Caroline didn’t dare follow him as he moved to another corner of the room. She looked at Charles whose face betrayed his contempt.

“What does this mean, Charles? He was referring to Georgiana? Georgiana is the woman he wants to please… What a brother, right Charles? By the way, why didn’t dearest Georgiana come here tonight?” Caroline mumbled.

“Caroline, can we pretend that we don’t know each other for the rest of the evening? I don’t think I can take any more stupidity.” Charles said and left her unable to move, to speak and almost enable to blink for five full minutes.

With a smile playing on his face, William watched the argument between Richard and Monika, who was most displeased that her employer had not let her utter a retort Caroline’s insulting remark. Suddenly, his features changed and became much tenser. Charles followed the direction of his look and spotted a very elegant Jason Younge surrounded by four women who were looking at him adoringly. His face became red with anger. Monika and Richard noticed the changes in them and stopped their bickering. Monika tapped William’s shoulder.

“Shall I go now?”

“Not yet. Richard you go first and draw the attention of the women. Take them with you… Wait, not all of them… Leave the one with the red hair there. I want her to be present when Monika acts. I know her, she’s a reporter. She doesn’t work for Pemberley, but it’s even better like this. Laura Moore, that’s her name. The tabloids’ greatest scandals always have something to do with her. This is good, even better than what we had planned. Charles, go and tell the photographers to be ready. Monika, do you remember what you have to do?” He said in the typical voice he used at work when giving orders. It was the best possible way to hide his agony.

“Now, he’s a real boss.” Monika commented only to receive an angry look from Richard as he left to follow his cousin’s orders.

Ten minutes later Monika was approaching Jason who was talking alone with the red headed woman. Everything was ready.

Even though Georgiana Darcy was a shy person who had lost her trust in men quite early in life, she was not completely inexperienced at dating. She had watched movies with men several times without any particular fluttering of spirits. This night however, with Alex, was quite different. Even though she tried to be indifferent and create a buddies’ atmosphere between them, her body was particularly treacherous. She was acutely aware of the need that was suddenly burdening her heart, the need to be lost in his embrace, to feel his arms tighten around her. Once or twice during the film, when the poor new Mrs. De Winter fell in the traps of the evil Mrs. Danvers and was humiliated in front of the eyes of her husband, Georgiana instinctively turned to him and buried her face into his shoulder. She withdrew instantly of course, but she wondered if he had felt the powerful electric waves between them that she had experienced.

Alex represented warmth and safety for her. His smile made her forget that she had ever known disappointment; his eyes were a source of hope and courage. He had such beautiful eyes; they seemed incapable of hosting a disapproving or angry look. She now recalled Christmas day: how frightened she was to meet his gaze after she had made her confession; how relieved, what elation she felt when she resolved to look at him, only to discern compassion and concern.

She wondered when those precious feelings were born. Alex had worked for Richard for at least three years and she had met him many times in the U.S. But she had never felt the way she did now. They had some stimulating conversations together, they shared many interests, she found his company invariably pleasant; actually she was very happy each time Alex accompanied her cousin when they met. But never before had she suspected that she was on the verge of falling in love with him. She realized that she had never permitted herself to acknowledge anything more than friendship, although the roots of her present feelings must have existed for quite a while. But, before that fateful Christmas day she was a prisoner, suffering from a punishment that she has willingly imposed upon herself: to keep her heart closed and ‘protected.’ However now she was free; free to discover that her heart was already given to someone. Not in the least discontented by the realization, she turned her attention to the screen.

Flames are devouring the evil Mrs. Danvers. His eyes, oh so warm and so focused on the screen! The fire’s approaching Rebecca’s bedroom. His frown is adorable…Surrounding the bed, the pillow with the monogram…Why is he smiling? THE END. Good, and now what? Georgiana thought, as Alex’s presence next to her became more and more distracting. If she had not watched ‘Rebecca’ so many times before, she would have had no idea what the film was about. She longed and dreaded the end, as it would inevitably bring conversation between her and Alex. Just the two of them.

“So…” Alex began.

“So…” repeated Georgiana, her eyes very focused on the pattern of the carpet on the floor.

“Did you like it?” Alex uttered and then felt completely stupid.

Bad, this is so bad.

“Yes.” Georgiana answered. “I love all Hitchcock’s films.”

“It was the first one that he shot in the US.” Alex said enthusiastically. Hitchcock was his favorite director and he was glad that Georgiana shared his passion.

“I must say that I am a bit disappointed by the compromise he makes in the end…” Georgiana was gaining more courage with every passing moment.

“Meaning?” Alex asked with genuine interest.

“Well, the original Max de Winter in the novel does kill Rebecca. He doesn’t say that it was an accident as it happens here. Much more powerful that way.”

“I agree.” Alex admitted pensively. “But come to think of it, he managed to shoot the film keeping the heroine without a name. Perhaps making Lawrence Olivier act the killer after this was too much!” Alex laughed and Georgiana joined him, feeling completely at ease.

“Ah, the name!” She cried happily. “One of my favorite occupations in the past. Whenever I was having a sleepless night, I was imagining all the possible names the new Mrs. De Winter could have had.”

“And have you actually decided on the subject?”

“No, I must admit that I have not.” She sighed, feigning disappointment. “Nothing has pleased me… Have you ever tried it?” She asked playfully.

“Of course I have! But no success here either.”

“Just tell me some of your names.” Georgiana encouraged him

“Well, there is the obvious choice of Maria. Don’t smile like that, Anna – it’s the natural consequence of watching ‘The Sound Of Music’ too many times: one comes to think that every innocent girl in the world is called Maria.”

“And every evil Baroness is called Elsa?”

“Exactly!” Alex said, enjoying their interaction immensely and without thought , he added. “I have found a kindred spirit in you, Anna.”

Georgiana startled and averted her eyes. She was actually blushing. After making fun of the stupid habit of women’s blushing, now she was blushing herself. Alex wished he had bitten his tongue instead of speaking. He knew that the worst thing he could do was to rush her… And there he was, rushing her.

“Anna, I am sorry… I didn’t mean that… I…”

Georgiana felt a wave of disappointment on hearing his words of apology. And it was then that she decided to collect herself and not act childishly anymore. Alex was different than the other men who had approached her: tender, caring in a quiet way, avoiding the grandiose words and tearful declarations that she had come to hate as well. And she wasn’t going to let this chance be wasted.

“You really didn’t mean it?” She asked looking directly into his eyes, with a playful smile on her face. Alex derived from it all the courage that he needed.

“Actually, Anna,” he whispered coming closer to her until their faces were almost touching: “I did mean it… and I meant many more things as well. Do you want to hear them?”

All Georgiana knew was that she wanted to feel his lips upon hers. “Now?” she whispered, her mouth touching slightly his.

“Not now.” He answered firmly as his arms encircled her waist and pulled her closer. “After this. ” His lips lingered for a moment upon hers. He began kissing her, tenderly, without haste, as if they had all the eternity before them. Slowly, he released his passion and poured more and more in that kiss, thrilled to see that she responded with an equal degree of desire. When they broke the kiss, flames lit the eyes of both, but they chose to control themselves. They did have all of eternity before them. Georgiana smiled mischievously.

“Now,” she said. “I am all ears.”

When Monika joined Jason and the journalist, he was already narrating his life’s tearful story. He was describing his wife’s cold heart and endless number of lovers. Monika was allergic to lies and she had to call upon all her self-control in order to sit and listen to him, smiling innocently and waiting for the right moment to interrupt. At last the moment came.

“And even when I found her in our own house with my own chauffer, I forgave her and…”

As Laura Moore nodded with compassion, Monika said with every pretense of good humor:

“I feel nothing but compassion for you, Mr. Younge…”

“Please, call me Jason…” He demanded flirtingly, oblivious to Monika’s inner disgust and Richard’s poisonous looks.

“Jason then… A man like you, falling victim to such a cliché!”

“Pardon me?” He asked confused, while the reporter’s look spoke of her interest.

“You know, being married to the cruel woman that you cannot satisfy no matter what you do. And she ends up preferring the servants rather than you… It happens all the time.”

The other woman nodded her agreement, but Jason was not at all pleased with the explanation.

“What do you mean that I couldn’t satisfy her?” He had started the sentence in a raised voice, but checked himself immediately, so that the word satisfy came in a strangled whisper. There was no mistaking of his tone however; he was clearly disturbed. A reporter like Laura Moore could never fail to discern such an abrupt change.

“Mr. Younge, why are you so upset? I am sure that the comment was well meant, am I right?” She asked Monika.

“But of course,” she agreed readily, hiding the devilish smile as best as possible. “I only meant to comment on this woman’s despicable character. It really amazes me that you put up with her for so long.” Monika saw him relax momentarily and began really enjoying her game. “Why did you, by the way?”

“Excuse me?” Jason’s features became tensed again. Laura’s eyes lit and she tightened her fist unknowingly to the rest, as if saying: How did I not ask him that?

“I am asking you why you stayed with such a horrible woman for so long.”

“I loved her!” His voice rose once again, but upon noticing two or three heads turning questioningly towards their direction, he suppressed his dislike of the turn of the conversation. He smiled sadly, sighed, and repeated in a soft voice: “I loved her.”

“Loved her?” Monika repeated. Yes, Jason knew the rules of the game very well, but there was no way she was letting him win. “She had not one decent value and you loved her? Why?”

Laura looked like a child in front of the Christmas tree. Jason didn’t answer and Monika continued in an innocent way:

“Was she beautiful? Did you love her because she was beautiful?” She asked softly and added: “It’s understandable, Jason.” She caressed his shoulder.

If it was not for William’s tight grip, Richard would have attacked them that moment.

“No!” Laura cried, very hurt and furious. “It’s not at all understandable! It’s disgusting! Staying and suffering with her just because she was beautiful is REPULSIVE!”

Even Monika had not expected such a passionate reaction by Laura. She could not have known of course that Laura’s husband had left her less than a month ago in order to live with a gorgeous blond model with legs two meters long. So, the reporter was rather prejudiced against relationships that were based solely on physical attraction. In any case, Monika’s remark had worked even better than she had planned. Laura’s outburst had not gone unnoticed. Several people had turned to look at them. Even though they previously spoke too low for anyone to hear, she knew that the evidently agitated faces of the two people in her company were enough to trigger speculation. Even though now everyone seemed to have resumed their previous discussions and no one was giving apparent attention to them, Monika actually felt the rumors of an argument between Jason and Laura spreading across the room. The occasional quick glances several people were casting on them before turning their heads away, seemed to confirm her suspicions. Jason noticed that as well, and before thinking clearly, he whispered to Laura angrily:

“For heaven’s sake woman, don’t raise your bloody voice!”

Laura was appalled. Without any effort to lower her voice, she told him:

“How dare you speak to me in this way?”

No one was looking at them openly, except perhaps Richard, but undoubtedly there was hardly anyone in the room who was not speaking of them. Monika, in absolute calmness, addressed Laura.

“My dear, please do not be angry with Jason…I am sure he didn’t mean to sound offensive. Maybe we have upset him too much, without realizing it.” There was a flame of challenge in her eyes, barely decipherable as she turned to Younge:

“Have we, Jason? ” The tiniest hint of irony was hiding in her voice.

“Don’t put words in my mouth!” Jason hissed, tossing his arm violently, as if he intended to remove the anger that made every fiber of his body vibrate. His face was almost red, from the suppression of strong emotions. Never before had he so much trouble in adjusting to the demands of civility. But now he understood that the woman before him knew the truth and was toying with him. Every molecule in his body revolted at the idea, and he was not certain for how much longer he was going to be able to control his reactions.

Monika retained her calmness and good-humored look. Her voice seemed almost apologetic to Laura, but Younge knew that it was only one more trick of hers.

“I am only trying to understand…”

“What the hell do you want to understand?” Jason still spoke in a stifled voice, but he seemed ready to explode.

“Why didn’t you just leave her?”

“I didn’t want to leave her!”

“How did she manage to keep you a prisoner in this awful marriage?” Monika asked and the irony was too evident now. Laura’s look that seemed equally hostile did nothing to help Jason’s self-control.

“Stop it!” His eyes had narrowed dangerously.

“It isn’t as if you had any secrets she knew that you didn’t want to become known…”

“I am warning you: STOP IT!!!”

“Actually it was her who had that dark secret about the child…”

“For the last time: STOP IT!!!” He couldn’t stand it anymore. All his good breeding, all his calmness, all his capability to use people and avoid their traps were evaporating.

“Wasn’t she, Jason?” Monika ignored him

“SHUT UP YOU *****!!!” He finally yelled at her.

A massive gasp was heard and every pair of eyes in the room was staring at them but Jason had lost the capability to care about them anymore. Before anyone could react, the back of his hand came forcefully towards Monika’s face. Her lower lip received a very strong blow and began bleeding almost immediately. Professional as she was, Monika kept her balance, despite the force of the hit, and barely moved an inch, just continued to stare at him provokingly. Laura let out a gasp and put her hand over her face to refrain from screaming; they were at a party, for God’s sake! Who did he think he was to disturb everyone in such a way? As the initial shock faded, a man’s voice was heard: “He just struck a woman in public, imagine what he’s capable of in private!” It was not coincidental that the man who spoke stood just next to Darcy. Whispers followed this exclamation, in confidential, hushed tones in the beginning. But with each passing moment, the voices raised more and more, the looks on the faces became clearly disapproving and hostile. A whirl, a storm surrounded Younge and it almost left him breathless.

It was not a party anymore; it was not a social gathering where everyone was supposed to be civil and bear with inane remarks and false praise. It seemed as if the slap that Jason had given to Monika had hit the hypocritical attitudes of many. He had broken the rules; the same rules that he used to promote his image. He had not respected the social restrictions that everyone blindly obeyed to. Perhaps many people in that room were worse than him. However, no one wanted to be reminded of that at a social gathering; no one had the right to expose such dark secrets in public. They were all obliged to pretend that malice didn’t exist in their world. Whether it was the action itself, or the time and place that it took place which repulsed most people, no one could really say. The truth, however, was that Jason Younge had brought his downfall all by himself. And it was going to be a painful one.

Darcy looked at the photographers questioningly and they nodded in the affirmative. They had captured the ‘moment.’ He sighed in relief. Richard instantly ran next to Monika to help her, but her look warned him to step back.

“That was far too easy, boy…You are even less clever than I had expected.”

And she walked away, with Richard following, as every eye rested upon Jason. Charles came closer, while the rest of the crowd had formed a circle around Jason.

“Mr. Bingley, you must know that I…”

But Charles had no wish to talk. He hit him with all the power that he possessed. Jason fell on the floor, nearly unconscious and bleeding. As soon as Jason began blinking his eyes and sighing in evident pain, Charles cried with a firm, crystal clear voice so that everyone could hear him:

“That was for transforming JANE BENNET’S life into a hell! With your lies, duplicity and incapability to care for anyone beyond yourself. If you DARE to say a word against her ever again, I WILL KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS! Is this clear?”

Caroline felt her knees trembling. This party was beginning to imitate her worst nightmares. Her brother striking another man during a social gathering was quite a bad thing, but her brother hitting Jason Younge to defend Jane Bennet was inconceivable. She had to think, and to think quickly. She wondered if she should publicly reprimand her brother to show that she was not supporting his actions. A look around her was enough to put an end to all these thoughts. People were openly approving Charles’ course of action and turning even more hostile towards Jason. Moreover she had never seen her brother so determined. She had gone against his will many times in the past but now she knew that if she showed the slightest sympathy towards Jason, there was no turning back. After all, she had introduced them and now she felt that she had to save herself. She opened her mouth to praise her brother but suddenly became aware of William’s sardonic gaze on her and chose to remain silent.

Jason presented a humiliating sight. Crawling in the center of the room, he lost all the dignity that he had left. He searched for an ally among the reprimanding eyes; someone that would believe his story; someone that he could take with his side. Tears appeared in his eyes, in a last attempt to gain some pity at least. He saw William Darcy looking at him and he was petrified by the coldness that his eyes betrayed. A moment later, he heard his deep voice.

“Stop humiliating yourself and get lost, Younge. Whatever pity we might have felt for you is destroyed by your behavior. Don’t you dare to trifle with any of us… Ever again.”

Everyone in the room felt the urge to hug Darcy for his intervention that put an end to the horrible scene. Most of these people were anxious to return back to normal and pretend that everything was well; that nothing had happened. They were anxious to resume their meaningless conversations and return to the monotonous rhythm of the party. William smiled with contempt. He despised all these people, and for a moment the longing for Elizabeth, for the life she was giving to him, for the new glimpse of the world that she had offered, took hold of him. But he checked himself. He still had things to do. He would pine for Elizabeth later; when he would be alone; he and his loss. For the moment he tried to receive the looks of admiration of those around him with graciousness. Yes, they were insufferable, but he knew them: they might pretend that nothing was the matter for the moment, but they would be most willing to ruin Jason’s faultless image as soon as the new day would begin and they would take their telephones in their hands. They would spread the gossip even more quickly than he could via his newspapers.

Jason understood his meaning and was only grateful that Georgiana’s story didn’t come up as well. He momentarily thought of blackmailing Darcy with it to gain his support so that he could get out of this. But reading the determination in Darcy’s eyes, he decided against it. This battle was lost. He got up and walked to the door. Before exiting, however, someone grabbed his arm and the next moment he was facing Richard’s face, distorted from rage. Richard dragged him to the hallway, away from the rest of the party. Monika was there as well.

“Do not imagine that we’re over, Younge.” She said with a dark look.

Jason chose to address Richard.

“Is she your s**t Mr. Fitzwilliam? A good one. But too clever. Trust me, the stupid are the best.”

“Shut up, you idiot scoundrel!” Richard shouted, amazing Monika by his anger. “Are you completely stupid? Don’t you see that you’re destroyed?”

“Oh, c’mon!” Jason laughed. “I must admit that my show tonight was not particularly convincing, but no one will remember it after a week.”

“Darcy will make sure no one will ever forget it!” Richard hissed, while Monika was looking at Jason questioningly. For a lost man, he looked too calm.

“No, he won’t.” Jason’s face lit. “I know things about his family that he ignores. “

“Are you trying to tempt me, Jason?” Darcy appeared in the hallway. His presence was intimidating, and the coldness of his eyes would have scared a man clever enough to detect it. His voice was full of irony, but Jason stupidly chose to ignore all the warning signs.

“Darcy, don’t be foolish. We can cooperate to reveal Wickham’s…”

“THERE IS NO WE, Younge! And tomorrow, there will be no you! If I were in your place, I would disappear. The farther away the better!!!” William spoke slowly, giving emphasis to every single word, to show that he was not likely to be influenced in the slightest. He had to make this pathetic specimen of mankind that stood before him understand that he had lost.

“You’ll never know why your mother left you, Darcy.” Jason said with a wicked smile, not at all disheartened by the hostile looks he received.

William’s heart began beating wildly; he hesitated for a moment, but just for one. He then remembered that the man before him was one of the most indecent that he’d ever met. So he answered with determination, in a low, deep voice.

“If the only way to learn the truth involves cooperating with you, Younge, I’d rather die than learn. Get lost now! I have to go and supervise the articles that will be the end of you!”

“Pardon me?” Younge looked truly nervous at last.

“Oh, the thickhead here is finally getting the point!” Monika said with a look full of contempt. “Had you imagined my dear that I would ever just sit there and let you bruise my lips if there was not a special reason? Do I look like that kind of person?”

Jason remained silent.

“She was acting of course!” Bingley joined them in the hallway. “We instructed her to approach you and make you lose your temper!”

“And we had photographers waiting to catch the result! And reporters ready to hear the details and write very long articles about a certain rogue’s nasty behavior.” Richard continued.

“That is the only reason that I refrained from beating you until you fell down senseless.” William said in a casual voice that still managed to send shivers to Jason who was becoming paler and paler.

“You see, Jason, we’ve learnt our lesson amazingly well.” Bingley said with a fake smile.

“You have much more to gain by pretending to be the vulnerable victim.” Monika winked.

Jason swore in frustration. The fear of something inevitable took hold of him. Fear that was turning to terror with every word that he heard.

“But, if this offers any relief to you, you have performed the scoundrel’s part wonderfully tonight as well!” Monika said with a devilish smile, while Jason felt cold waves rushing him. “One would suppose that you were an expert in performing the monster’s parts.”

“That he is, Monika.” Darcy said firmly. “Now he must learn to perform the paying-for-my-actions part. For, if you think that we’re over, Jason, you’re sadly mistaken. Not after what you did to Jane. Not after what you did to my sister. ”

“Please, please!” Jason was really terrified now. Their words were killing him, and he could not imagine what he would do even if the smallest portion of these threats became real. “I’ll do whatever you want. Please! Stop it! You scare me, for God’s sake!” He cried.

“You should be scared, Younge.” William replied coldly. “All the newspapers tomorrow will be analyzing this evening’s events. And I will make sure that they’ll keep analyzing them for a long time. Besides, my friend Bingley here, volunteered to publish two or three books on domestic violence… I am afraid the coincidence will not benefit you, Younge.”

Younge collapsed on a chair in despair.

“And of course, I will not rest until I find a more satisfying private punishment for you, Younge.” He continued, bending to whisper to his ear. “Unfortunately for you, I have decided to protect better than before the people I care about.”

With that, they all departed from the hallway, leaving in the middle of it the shell of a formerly very confident man. The others remained there only long enough to hear Jason’s desperate cry:

“Nooo!!!!”

It was the cry of a man who knew that he had played and that he had lost.

William left hastily after that, following a team of journalists and photographers that worked for him. Charles joined him, to make certain that the articles were humiliating enough. Richard and Monika remained in the party for a little longer, but in a secluded room. Four elderly women had volunteered to treat her still bleeding lip, but only succeeded in deteriorating her condition and making her furious. They were acting very mother-like but Monika didn’t feel like a daughter at all. Richard, who was well aware that his bodyguard hated to receive such attentions, realized that they had better go home. Therefore he said in a much raised voice, so that the four amateur doctors who had decided to save Monika could hear.

“Maybe we should go to the hospital and have some stitches.” They agreed heartily, while Monika groaned.

“I helped you all so much tonight, and this is how you repay me?” She whispered.

“I know that you hate hospitals.” Richard whispered in return. “But this is the only way to get permission to leave. They will turn wild otherwise.”

It occurred to Monika that she had underestimated Richard’s intelligence. She nodded her head and then declared that she wouldn’t feel at ease unless she consulted a doctor. People around them smiled approvingly after giving their best wishes for a speedy recovery, which Monika bore as best as she could, and began to leave. After all, it was late and it had been quite an eventful party; everyone was exhausted.

“You see how clever I am?” Richard said when they were left alone.

“Go outside and wait for me.” She ordered. She hated to admit that Richard had ‘saved’ her.

But he seemed to have discovered a new source of stubbornness.

“No, I will take you to the car. After all, you are an injured person. You must not be left alone.” He answered mockingly, but somewhere in his voice there was a hidden portion of tenderness.

“Boss, I hate taking orders, and I hate being looked after.” She warned him.

“Too bad for you. Tonight, I feel like giving orders and looking after you.” He replied with a devilish smile.

They walked out of the room arm in arm.

Richard sat in Monika’s room wondering if he was overstepping the limits. She had told him that she would be very angry if she got out of the shower and still found him there. But he felt as if he was fixed there, unable to move away. He couldn’t explain it; he just knew that he couldn’t leave her alone that night.

That he was attracted to her, he had known for a long time. After all, they worked together, they were constantly together, she was beautiful, she had that gorgeous body and sharp mind that could drive every man crazy; and he was only human. But Richard had met many women in his career, he had been attracted to a great number of actresses; and he had managed to shoot the most intimate scenes with some of them, completely controlling his instincts and behaving in a professional way. He had learnt not to act upon attraction when he knew that it would create a mess.

So, why couldn’t he leave Monika’s room? They had a wonderful relationship, she was the person who understood him better than anyone else, she was very good at her job and he couldn’t imagine anyone taking her place. A night with her would be a disaster. He was completely incapable of retaining a relationship more than three weeks and he knew that the strange friendship he shared with Monika wouldn’t survive such a mistake. Still, his legs refused to take him out of the room.

It was then that he was forced to realize that it was not just attraction. Monika inspired tenderness, and protectiveness, which was completely absurd considering independent personality. She seemed to bring out a side of him that he had never imagined existed. He understood that this was something rare and precious. And he wouldn’t let a night of passion to destroy it. Monika’s companionship and friendship were important to him, and he would learn to control his instincts in order not to lose them. He believed himself totally capable of not acting upon his attraction, as he had done many times before.

Monika got out of the shower, a towel loosely covering her slim figure. Richard looked on amazed, unable to speak. He couldn’t remember what he had been thinking, as he stood mesmerized. She didn’t notice him at first, as she moved to her wardrobe, but as her eyes fell on the bed, her angry expression showed him that he was completely unwelcome.

“Richard, I told you to leave!” It was the first time that she shouted at him in complete seriousness, but even that didn’t make him run out of the room as fast as he could. Instead, he stood up and moved towards her. For some unknown reason, he had a feeling that he was doing the right thing. He met her eyes; he matched the challenge. Richard would not be intimidated that night.

“I wanted to see if you are ok.” He said simply as he kept walking until they were very close.

Monika took a step back and replied.

“Ok, you saw that I am ok, now GO!” She tried to use an authoritative tone but her voice betrayed nervousness.

But he didn’t seem inclined to listen to her. Closing the final distance between them, his eyes never leaving hers, he gently caressed her bruised lip. A small red drop surfaced and wet his long finger. The feel of her blood on his skin took him completely by surprise. That unexpected contact became instantly a liquid fire which traveled at light speed through both their bodies, leaving them breathless for a few seconds. There was no turning back now. He knew it, and she knew it as well. Their bodies’ reactions had decided their fate that night.

Elizabeth was not particularly fond of traveling in the night, especially by airplane, but since that was the quickest way to get to William, she had decided to forget her likes and dislikes on the subject. The flight wouldn’t last for more than three hours; but it was four o’clock in the morning and almost everyone else, including her father and Teresa, was sleeping. She was too troubled to sleep. She had the worn issue of Meryton on her legs and the strange note in her hands and she was looking at it as if she expected to solve the mystery simply by staring. Teresa next to her yawned and opened her eyes. She whispered tiredly:

“Elise, the paper is not going to speak to you anytime soon. Put it down and close you eyes, my dear.”

“No, no! I have the best ideas during night.” Elizabeth answered firmly.

“Is stubbornness a family trait?” Teresa teased and moved to change position.

Elizabeth didn’t answer and continued to look at the paper in her hands, as Teresa closed her eyes again.

Stop your wife before it’s too late. For all of you. You know me too well, George. I don’t forgive mistakes.
J.W.

George? George who? And who was J.W? And who was George’s wife? What was she doing? Who was threatening her? When had all this happened? Elizabeth sighed and perused for one more time the page of Meryton where the fateful note had been found. Teresa opened her eyes, sleep evading her, and said:

“Ok. You want us to think now, so think we will.”

Elizabeth smiled slyly. Teresa was a kindred spirit; an ally. She was very happy that she was coming back to England with her, even for a few weeks. She handed her the note, but Teresa gave it back to her.

“We know this by heart. It won’t reveal anything else to us, Elise.”

“And then how are we to proceed?” Elizabeth was evidently disappointed.

“Hey, you are the journalist and you ask me?”

It occurred then to Elizabeth that she had not followed her usual method of work in this case. She was functioning by her feelings, because she was certain that it had something to do with William. And even though her instinct was flawless up to that day, it had to be based on facts in order to help her find the solution. She decided to think professionally at last; after all she was very good at that. First of all, she wondered why she felt certain that William was part of this story, but couldn’t explain it; she had no doubt about it, but had no idea why. Then she turned her attention to the facts. A confident smile lit her features as she told Teresa:

“Since we can find nothing more by reading the note itself, we must gather information from the magazine where we found the note.”

“That’s my girl.” Teresa whispered approvingly. “Where did you buy the magazine from, Elise?”

“Oh,” Elizabeth blushed deeply. “I…it was…Will gave me some of the old issues he had in the archives as a present.” She managed to say at last.

No wonder she carries them everywhere with her then, Teresa thought and smiled as she noticed Elizabeth’s dreamy look.

“He knows what you like, right?”

“Oh, that he does.” Elizabeth said, looking at the blackness out of the window, bringing that moment in front of her. They had stayed longer at the office that night. He had taken her to the archives and asked her to select and take everything she wanted. Elizabeth was fascinated by old editions. She knew that she could access everything on the Net, but this just felt different. She had felt the excitement of a child in a toy store, although William’s intensive gaze on her as she was choosing, rendered her somewhat uncomfortable. When she had finished, he came close to her and enveloped her in his warm embrace. He then turned her softly, so that he could look in her eyes. He had said nothing, although Elizabeth was starving to hear the magic words coming out of his lips. But now, as she recalled that moment, his eyes, the way they were caressing her; nay the way they loved her, she felt that she was happy then. And he was happy too. They just didn’t know it.

“Elise, Elise…Do you feel like sleeping at last?” Teresa said after trying to gain her attention in vain.

“No, of course not!” Elizabeth checked herself and came back to reality. “We were saying?”

“That this issue comes from the archives.” Teresa reminded her patiently.

“Yes, so the only people who read this worked at Meryton.” Elizabeth felt very content with this realization.

“So it’s a threat for someone who worked in the magazine.” Teresa concluded.

“No, the threat is for the wife. The wife must stop what she’s doing, right? She’s doing a ‘mistake’ that someone won’t forgive, remember?”

“So the wife worked in the magazine?” Teresa asked.

“Well, maybe the husband worked there and his wife’s actions that caused the threat had nothing to do with Meryton.” She sighed unhappily. That would make things far more difficult, but they had to examine all the possibilities.

“What is your instinct telling you, Elise?” Teresa asked encouragingly, with much passion in her voice. There was only one way to bring the best results and that was to stimulate Elizabeth even more.

“Why did ‘George’ hide the note in the magazine? If he wanted it destroyed, he should have burnt it. If he wanted to ask for help, he would have gone to the police, not hide it in the issue…He must have wanted it destroyed but he forgot it in the issue. Maybe he did so subconsciously… Or… Maybe he wanted his wife to find it, without him speaking? The wife worked for the magazine.” Elizabeth stated, very confident. “The note has to do with the magazine.”

“Maybe both George and the wife worked for the magazine?” Teresa suggested.

“Yes, possibly.” Elizabeth was very pensive again. She seemed as if she was trying to dismiss a persistent thought. Finally she gave up and said, looking at Teresa sheepishly.

“Well, I know what you’ll think: that I am obsessed with Will, that I relate everything that happens with Will, but I can’t help it! My inner voice is screaming that this note has something to do with him as well.”

As soon as she had uttered the words, and before Teresa had any time to respond, realization struck Elizabeth. She cried quite loudly, waking the passengers around her:
“Will’s father! His name was George! Yes, George Darcy! Teresa it’s him, I know it’s him!”

“Yes, sweetheart, but please speak lower or they will throw us out of the plane at 40,000 feet!” Teresa tried to calm her a bit.

“But, Teresa, haven’t you been listening to what I said? The ‘wife’ is Anne Darcy!” Elizabeth continued in the same tone but Teresa was so overwhelmed this time but she didn’t think of checking her this time.

“Someone was threatening Anne?”

Elizabeth didn’t answer immediately. She seemed to be searching for something. Then she exclaimed.

“Twenty two years ago! This issue dates twenty two years!” She tried to remember when exactly William said that his mother had disappeared. She couldn’t say for sure but it was about that long ago.

“This note has something to do with Anne Darcy’s disappearance.” Elizabeth said very seriously.

“Presumably.” Teresa corrected her. She was excited too, but she knew that the evidence was not enough for them to be certain yet.

“Oh, I am sure! We must look at the next issue! I bet that Anne Darcy has not written the editorial in that!”

“Well, where is the next issue?” Teresa asked impatiently.

Elizabeth looked for it into the small bag that she carried with her. She turned the bag inside out, she searched all the papers in it, but unfortunately it seemed that she did not possess the following issue. She was quite discontented by the fact; it seemed that she wished to find out the whole truth that very night.

“I’ll go to my office tomorrow and get it!” was all that she could content herself with.

Teresa smiled at her impatience.

“Elise, tomorrow is Sunday. Besides, you can find everything on the net.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Elizabeth agreed reluctantly. She felt like a detective and couldn’t fight the urge to be at the office and collect all the clues.

Teresa saw the disappointment in her eyes and a wave of motherly affection overwhelmed her. She wanted to see this girl pleased, so she decided to try a little harder.

“Perhaps, we could find some clues in this issue?” She indicated the one Elizabeth was still keeping on her legs. “Some hints, perhaps? We can see what Anne was investigating or planned to investigate.”

Elizabeth was so excited with this idea that she kissed Teresa’s cheek, surprising her in the best way possible. Then she turned all her attention to the magazine. Teresa was very proud of herself, since she had managed to help her ‘dear girl’ so much and watched her amused for a few minutes. As Elizabeth was perusing the pages, her cheeks reddened with excitement and her eyes brightened, making her adorable. Her hand was playing with the curls that had escaped her loose ponytail and were falling on her face. She seemed like a teenager reading her favorite novel. The picture she presented was relaxing; so relaxing that Teresa felt her eyelids heavy again…

However, hardly had she closed her eyes than a gasp from Elizabeth made her open them again.

“No! It can’t be!”

Elizabeth’s eyes were wide with dismay. Her hand had moved to her mouth to prevent a cry from escaping. The color from her cheeks was quickly vanishing. She looked really agitated.

“What is it my girl?” Teresa asked full of concern. But Elizabeth seemed lost in her world, staring at a page, unable to speak. Teresa nudged her arm and said again: “What is wrong, Elise? Speak to me, please!”

“The Ministry of Education!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “This is too much of a coincidence!”

“Elise, you must see that you have to enlighten me about this.” Teresa said as patiently as she could manage.

“Yes, I am sorry, Teresa, it’s just that I am too surprised. You see, Anne Darcy was writing about the Ministry of Education’s projects. I was doing research about exactly the same thing before leaving.”

“Well, it is a coincidence, but I don’t see why it has affected you so much…” Teresa intended to say more, but Elizabeth interrupted her.

“It’s the ‘Security in Public Schools’ program she means to examine. Yes, I remember it had just started then. Look what she writes!” And she handed over the newspaper.

Teresa read:

‘Security in Public Schools,’ a program suggested and more than generously financed by the successful businessman John Wickham, claims to be the ideal solution to the huge social problem the juvenile criminality constitutes. Even though we doubted the effectiveness of armed guards in the schools of specific areas, we would be more than happy to acknowledge any positive results. However, the reports seem controversial and we believe that further investigation is required on the subject.’

Teresa looked up questioningly.

“She’s right!” Elizabeth said in a raised voice. “This program continues today, and I checked the reports. The Ministry claims positive results, but according to the police, the condition has deteriorated over the years!” She paused and took a deep breath, preparing to make the most important announcement. “Did you see who suggested and financed the program? John Wickham, Teresa! J.W! He’s the one behind the note! He threatened her to stop her from abusing the program!”

Teresa was astonished and couldn’t utter a word. Elizabeth’s countenance turned as she whispered pensively.

“Not only from abusing… He wanted to stop her from investigating it!”

“What?” Teresa finally asked.

“His son! The scoundrel, he knew! I knew that there was something dark about him! I was just blind, stupid, stubborn and selfish! It was before my eyes!” She cried with passion, ignoring the ssssssssst sounds coming from the passengers around her.

The warning that the landing was proceeding was heard that moment. Teresa shook her head in resignation. Elizabeth caressed her shoulder and whispered.

“There must be something really big about this, Teresa. I can’t explain it now to you. As soon as we land, we’ll take a cab to my home. I’ll leave you there and go and look at the information I had collected.” She spoke with determination, as if she had planned her next moves to the slightest detail. Elizabeth knew what she wanted to do, what she had to do and how she should do it. Teresa now understood why she was so good at her job. Elizabeth smiled and winked at her.

“Sunday or not, it seems that I won’t avoid the office this morning.”

It was half past four in the morning when the first raindrops began to fall. Charles watched the night that was slowly coming to its end from the windows of the central building of Pemberley.Net, a sweet melancholy filling his heart. He had seen the articles and waited for the newspapers to get printed so that he could get a copy and leave. He felt tired, exhausted, and empty. As long as he was planning the revenge, he had something to look forward to, someone to turn his anger and resentment to, something to distract him from the unbearable pain and longing that rendered his chest heavy. But now he was alone to feel the loss of the only woman whom he had loved. He needed her forgiveness. If her love was out of reach, he still needed her forgiveness in order to be able to look at himself in the mirror.

William entered the room and in his dark eyes he saw the tiniest hint of satisfaction. They were both still formally dressed, but their hair had gone wild, they were unshaved and the lines of their faces had become more pointed after that night. They didn’t speak; William handed him the newspapers with an encouraging tap of the shoulder that filled him with warmth that he desperately needed. He looked at his friend gratefully. When had William become so sensitive to the needs of the others? So understanding, so interested in the feelings of his friends? The change was evident and surprising; and so much for the better!

“Do you want me to take you somewhere with the car?” William offered.

“No, I prefer to walk.” Charles said and prepared to leave.

“It’s raining, Charles.”

“Even better. I will wash my sins.” He replied with a bitter laugh that William could totally understand.

“You did well tonight, Charles.” Darcy said encouragingly.

“It was time for me to do something right in my life, wasn’t it, Will?”

“You are not going to gain anything by hating yourself for the rest of your life.”

“No, not for the rest of my life. Just for the rest of the month.”

They both chuckled at this and then they yawned simultaneously. Acknowledging that they needed rest, they shook hands and parted.

Charles wandered aimlessly in the streets of London for a while. The rain was really refreshing. As he felt the drops falling forcefully on his skin, the burden of guilt became less torturing; the promise of a new life a bit more evident. Yes, William was right. First of all, he had to forgive himself. He had to allow himself another chance; he had to make another attempt to lead the life he wanted. He had made mistakes, but it was time to gain control over them. This required strength. But Charles Bingley was not the irresponsible man he used to be. Love and loss had given him the sense of right and the determination to defend it. He clenched his fists and inhaled deeply: he knew what he had to do.

Half an hour later, the copy of the newspaper lay at Jane’s door, with a note attached to it:

This is for you. I am not asking for forgiveness yet, I want to be able to look into your eyes when I do it. I will become worthy of your forgiveness, Jane.
Always thinking of you,
Charles.

For the first time in a long time Charles slept with a smile on his face. He would do anything he could, he would humiliate himself if needed, he would wait for a lifetime; but he would become a better man and he would win Jane back.

William entered his house as silently as he could. He intended to go to Georgiana’s room to give her the promised newspaper but after a glimpse in the living room, his plans changed. His little sister sat on the couch, sleeping soundly…enfolded in Alex’s arms. His initial intention was to begin shouting until all of London would hear him. But on having a better look, he couldn’t deny that the picture the couple presented was very sweet. They seemed so content, smiling in their sleep, as if they had found the place they finally belonged. Besides, he remembered that he liked and trusted Alex. So, he crept out of the room, after leaving the newspaper on the table next to the couch where they were sleeping.

He thought of going to his room, but he realized that sleep was impossible now, after all this night’s events. The rain was coming down more heavily, and the night was giving its place to a grey cold morning. Darcy felt that the safety his house was offering instead depressed him at this time. The urge to get out and walk into the rain was irresistible. He didn’t even bother to change his clothes. He put on a warmer coat over his tuxedo, dismissed the thought of taking an umbrella and walked out to the wet deserted streets.

Jason Younge’s words had troubled him, even though he had managed to conceal his emotions. The fact that he, of all people, should know what had happened to his mother, was overwhelming. And he had mentioned Wickham’s name as well... What really existed behind all those hints?

He momentarily regretted that he had turned down the offer. He felt like going to Jason’s house and asking him what he meant, but then he checked himself. Jason was probably lying, in another desperate attempt to save himself. And even if he did know something, William was well aware that he would use his knowledge of the facts for his benefit; distorting, embellishing, or unjustly accusing and then bargaining and blackmailing in order to have the upper hand once again. Even if his whole life depended on what Jason had to share, William decided never to ask him. He would never condescend to owe even the tiniest fragment of happiness to Younge. He would find the truth, alone.

Darcy looked up and suddenly realized that he had reached ‘Meryton’s' offices. He had walked there without knowing it. But then he felt that he was only deceiving himself one more time. Now he could not deny that the need to be near Elizabeth had been growing the whole night. Even when he watched the interactions between Monika and Jason, anxious about the success of the plan, he was conscious of the longing that had become his constant companion. He desperately wanted to see Elizabeth once again, inhale her sent, touch her, feel her in his arms, and tell her about his feelings He wanted to share with her every important moment and every unimportant detail of his life. But Elizabeth had given no signs yet. God, how much longer is this torture going to last? He thought as he felt his strength and faith abandoning him. Tears appeared in his eyes but he kept them back.

He entered the building and walked to Elizabeth’s office. He wanted to touch the things she had touched and loved, sit at her desk, caress her pencils and notebook, and feel her warm presence on her chair. Everything was full of her, as she had given life to the entire place while working there. William gave up the fight. He could not be strong anymore; he could not pretend that he was doing fine when every fiber of his body was crying out her name. He released his tears, as he sat where she used to sit. I can’t live without you, Elizabeth. I can’t. The mask of polite indifference, the sardonic smile, the self control that he had applied for years, was not at his command anymore. He felt so small and unimportant and completely alone in the world. Where are you Elizabeth? I need you! I can’t go on like this!

As the tears washed down his face, as he gave way to his feelings, he faced and acknowledged his deepest and well hidden fear: a life alone, a life without Elizabeth was what frightened him the most. As soon as he admitted it, he felt completely exhausted, and drained. This night had been too much for him. His body protested, his mind felt the numbness that comes from crying. Sleep came as the monotone sound of the rain continued.

For how long he slept he didn’t know. When he felt a familiar hand slip through his hair and then caress his face, he believed that he was having another exquisite dream, as it happened whenever he managed to sleep at night. He tried to remain asleep to relish in the sensation as long as possible, to prolong the happiness, the serenity her mere presence inspired. Even though it was just a false picture, even though the disappointment each morning when he woke up was becoming more and more unbearable, those dreams were the only thing that was left from her; that no one could deprive him of. And he clung to those dreams with a torturous mixture of hope and despair.

But this time the hand seemed so real… The voice seemed so real; so wonderful and so real. William thought that his mind was playing games with him only to make him reach his limits. Still, he tried to remain asleep. He didn’t want this to finish so soon.

“Will…Will…” The caress and the voice persisted, even though sleep was evading.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. A gasp escaped him at what he saw. He couldn’t still be dreaming; and yet could this be true?

Yes, it could. The feeling of her fingers on his cheeks was real. Her wonderful eyes were more beautiful than he remembered or had ever dreamt. Eyes that were looking at him with such tenderness, it took his breath away. Her image reminded him nothing of the last time they had met; when she had thrown the ring back to him, announcing that they were over with a coldness that paralyzed him. He looked at her, as she was leaning gently over him and he was lost in her eyes and he recognized there the person that he had fallen in love with. The woman he had come to love more than his life, the woman he needed in order to continue breathing. The picture she presented was so much better than what he had ever hoped to behold; and it was real.

“Elizabeth.”

CHAPTER 11

Posted on Tuesday, 11 October 2005

Elizabeth entered the familiar building soaking wet. She had left her house so hastily after making sure that her father and Teresa were comfortable there, that the idea of taking an umbrella simply did not cross her mind. Elizabeth stood at the entrance, water dripping from her coat, her shoes staining the perfect carpet on the floor. At first she felt guilty, but then a mischievous grin appeared on her face. After making a mental note to apologize to the cleaners later that week, she headed for her office, heart full of excitement. She had missed everything. Even those hideous paintings on the hall, which she had tried so hard to persuade Charlotte to change, seemed to be welcoming her that morning and felt certain that she could not have waited another day to return to that place she had come to love so dearly. Not even another hour, in fact. Her heart began to race as she approached her office; then it stopped.

She recognized him instantly. The body, the shoulders, the arms…They could belong to no one else. It was him. He was sitting in her office and he was…sleeping? She came closer. There was a wet coat thrown on another chair. He wore a formal black suit and white shirt. His arms lay on the desk and his head was buried in them, his face hidden from her. She could only discern the fine line of his brow, where some unruly damp locks fell. Elizabeth listened to his rhythmic breathing; he was fast asleep.

Surprise was her first emotion. What was he doing at ‘Meryton,’ in her office, on a rainy Sunday morning? It made no sense at all. She shook her head and stopped trying to understand. Nothing was simple or rational where the two of them were concerned. Could it be possible that he felt the need to be near her as badly as she was longing for him? She was filled with a wave of tenderness for this man, who could make her happy with his touch, his look, or his mere presence. She leaned over him and ran her fingers softly through his hair, the caress he had always loved, the caress she had been longing to offer him all these weeks while she was miles away. A weak groan of pleasure escaped him, but she was certain that he was still asleep. Elizabeth didn’t want this moment to end. She could go on watching and caressing him forever, listening to his breathing and to the gentle tapping of the rain on the window. But she could not fight the urge of speaking his name, in a low whisper.

“Will…Will…”

It was more like a loving statement than an entreaty; however he stirred and moved his head slightly, his eyes still closed. Elizabeth felt as if she had received a blow to the chest upon discerning the dried tears on his cheek. Her hand moved instantly to his face and stroked the skin under his eyes, the five o’clock shadow of his cheeks, the line of his jaw, while she still murmuring his name; softly, tenderly. He blinked once and then shut his eyes with determination, as if he was trying to cling to his previous state of sleep. Her fingers remained on his face, caressing him lovingly. She spoke again, in a low voice. Her face had come very close to his and her breath warmed his ear.

“Will.”

Then he opened his eyes. He didn’t startle or move back. He lifted his face slightly, as she removed her hand quickly. He said nothing; just stared at her. Elizabeth wished he would smile; or at least talk, or do something. But he did nothing except gaze at her. It seemed that hours passed in this way, even though it could not have been more than a few seconds. His look rendered her uncomfortable, as if he was demanding answers, as if he was searching her heart and piercing her soul. Still, she managed to meet his gaze and keep the warm smile on her face. Uneasiness or not, she was really happy to see him again. If only he would speak…

“Elizabeth.” His deep voice flowed like honey and filled the room.

His hands, strong but tender, took hold of her face. He pushed her gently back, until she stood up, with her back to the desk. A rush of momentary disappointment hit her when they lost contact. But then, he rose and came closer, taking her face in his hands again. A roll of thunder was heard far away. White light filled the room for an instant, while the tension between them was reaching a point neither could bear. And before she realized what was happening, his lips were attacking hers.

His mouth, hungry, pressed forcefully upon hers, while his hands moved around her back and brought her even closer to him. She was not resisting; but she was not responding either. Her mind was in a haze and everything was happening too quickly for her to think. Her passiveness made him cling to her with despair, as if his life depended on her.

As he endeavoured to conquer all her doubts, and his as well, images of their past began to haunt him. Their first kiss; hesitant, sweet and ever so promising…Their first night together; he thought that he had found where he belonged. The night they had gone to a deserted lawn and watched the stars, staying embraced for hours after being consumed in their passion… The moments, looks and gestures at the office; small but ever so precious tokens of love. Their weekend in Scotland; their kiss on the hill, their talk by their fire, her smiling eyes, her voice, their night…

But, these were memories, only memories of a past lost forever in a hypnotizing mist. He had to return to the present and face his aching heart, for she was still not responding to him. He continued to kiss her desperately when other images invaded again, this time only to increase the unbearable sorrow, driving him to his limits. Their fight over Wickham, the estrangement, the cursed dinner… He fought against those thoughts and instinctively his hold of her became tighter, as if he tried to unite their bodies, as if he was dying and she was his source of life. And yet she was still impassive. He thought of the ring, as she took it off her hand. He remembered her parting look... “We’re over, Will.” Something broke in him. Maybe the allusion in the note to Jane was exactly what he feared the most. Perhaps there was another man; perhaps he had acknowledged his feelings too late.

Breathless and disappointed, he was ready to retreat, when he felt her touch on his face. Velvety fingers caressed his cheek, soothing and encouraging. His heart began beating wildly, as her hands moved around his neck, holding him tightly against her. She wasn’t letting him break the kiss; she wasn’t letting him part. Slowly, unhurriedly, softly, she opened to him and met his passion with equal fever. Her lips, the gates of his paradise, were inviting him to conquer them. Never before had he felt that she was giving herself so completely to him, nor that he was totally surrendering to her mercy as well. She was revealing and healing his wounds at the same time, pouring away all the bitterness that had poisoned him. She was burning him only to revive him the next instant. He could not part with her, not now, not ever. The need for breathing didn’t seem vital anymore. She was his air, his oxygen, the force that sent the blood through his veins. As he sensed her whole body melting against his arms, only one thought remained in the haze that clouded his mind. Ambrosia, the food of gods, could not taste better than her at that moment.

Their lips parted slowly, brushing leisurely against each other. Elizabeth nestled in his arms, keeping her cheek next to his, in an attempt to prolong the contact of their skin as much as possible. William relished in the felicity of their union, trying to digest all this happiness that had crashed on him from the moment he had opened his eyes. But then he remembered that he had to speak. He wanted no shadows or doubts hanging around them anymore. Placing a soft kiss on her temple, he whispered in her ear.

“Elizabeth, please tell me we’re not over.”

He sensed her smiling, as she nodded silently. He needed more than that. Stepping back, he took her face in her hands, until his eyes could look deeply into hers, to find there the truth, the love, the reassurance he needed. And he did find it, his own feelings mirroring in the black depths of her eyes. When he spoke his voice was tender, but firm and determined.

“We are not over. We cannot be over.” Then as his index finger traveled down her neck, he smiled slightly, never breaking eye contact with her, and said in his deep voice:

“I love you.”

It seemed to Elizabeth that every letter of this short phrase was a section in an orchestra that produced the finest melody she had ever heard in her life. She didn’t startle, she didn’t even blink. It seemed that the tiniest reaction of hers would disturb the harmony, the beauty, the serenity that was enfolding them, binding them together. She only gazed at him lovingly for a few moments, letting his words flow between them and fill the space with their sweet gravity. At last she smiled.

“You said it.”

He chuckled softly. “It took me some time, didn’t it?”

She began to find her old playful tone as she asked: “To feel it, or to admit it?”

“I’ve always loved you Elizabeth. Always. I can’t remember my life before loving you, so I guess there was nothing important in it before that.”

“Hey, you met me at thirty-four!” She reminded him, trying to sound amused in order to conceal the lump in her throat and the tears that threatened to appear in her eyes.

He kissed her lightly on the lips. “So much time lost…You have to make up for not coming into my life earlier, Elizabeth.”

Her look became serious again and he guessed that she was thinking of the time they lost after they met.

“It’s all my fault, Elizabeth… I was stupid and blind and almost lost you. I tried to hide my feelings, to deny the importance you had obtained in my life. I almost drove you away permanently. I loved you back then, Elizabeth. When you asked me to say it and I didn’t, I did love you. More than I had ever thought possible. But I could utter the words only after I felt that I had lost you. Can you ever forgive me for that?”

She looked with adoration, not caring to stop the tears that were now freely flowing down her cheeks. He swept them off tenderly with his palm.

“Don’t cry, Elizabeth, please… No more tears on my account. I can’t bear to be the cause of more of your tears.”

She looked at him with bright eyes.

“Can you ever forgive me for running away, Will? For leaving you when you needed me the most? For repeating the mistakes of the past? It’s not me who has to forgive and forget, Will. It is you.”

“When I look at you,” he said caressing her brow and then her hair, “I can think of nothing but the happiness you have given me, without asking, without expecting anything from me. What is there to forgive, Elizabeth? I really can’t remember.”

She smiled warmly and reached for his lips. There was not suspense, nor anxious demands for reassurance burning them anymore. They tasted each other, again and again, offering and taking, feeling protected and secure; knowing that they were not alone in the world anymore. Soft moans of pleasure escaped them both, delighting each other, as they discovered anew the wonderful sensations they shared together. However, after a few seconds, Elizabeth drew back abruptly. William searched the answer on her face, and was relieved to see her mischievous look.

“But, Will, what do you mean you could not say the words until after I was gone? When exactly did you utter them for the first time?”

William smiled sheepishly.

“Oh, that. Well, I must admit that there are some people familiar with my feelings for you.”

She was clearly astonished, but she didn’t seem very displeased.

“Some people?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Six people. Your sister is one of them.” He said looking at her like a child who had done something very naughty. But upon her making no response, he turned very serious, took her hands into his and said:

“I know, Elizabeth. I am a pathetic lover, telling everyone except you. I have no excuses. I don’t. I guess that by admitting that I loved you back then I managed to endure your absence, not knowing where you were or if you would be coming back. I had to admit my love during those weeks, because it was the only source of hope, the only reason to wake up in the morning and go through a day when I had no chance of seeing you. I beg you; don’t let this come between us.”

Tears appeared in her eyes again and he really grew worried. But then she shook her head reassuringly and a little laugh escaped.

“I have become too melodramatic today, Will, haven’t I? No, I am not letting this come between us. You are too lucky, sir.” She said with fake seriousness and he chuckled, very relieved. “You make me too happy to notice these details.”

He kissed her brow, saying: “Seriously, Elizabeth, I didn’t…”

She interrupted him immediately. “Seriously, Will, I was not there to listen to the words. I left. Don’t make me angrier with myself than I already am.”

“Excuse me, Miss Bennet, but I am not letting anyone be angry with the woman I love.” He said gallantly as his lips captured hers for another passionate kiss.

“She is a lucky woman then.” Elizabeth commented, half dazed, her eyes closed.

“The woman I love? Oh, believe me, she deserves it.”

“But Will, how is my sister acquainted with your feelings? She doesn’t even know mine!” Elizabeth brought them both to reality.

“She knows what your feelings are, Elizabeth.” Will said with a devilish smile.

“Did you tell her?” She asked, wanting to know the whole story.

“My dear, you offend me! That would have been very indiscreet of me, would it not?” He cried in mock indignation, enjoying the genuine surprise that spread over her face. And then, leaning over her, he whispered seductively: “You told her, Elizabeth.”

“No,” she protested firmly and strongly. “I most certainly did not.”

“Yes you did, but I am afraid that the liquor didn’t leave you with any memory of it.”

Elizabeth was officially speechless.

“Alright, alright.” He said embracing her tenderly. “I think it’s time for you to listen to a Christmas story. It’s called ‘The beating and humiliation of William Darcy.’”

“Beating?” She asked, quite shocked.

“Patience, my love.” He replied cryptically. “You will learn everything. But we must take a seat first, for it’s a rather long story.”

“Will?” She said weakly, as she found herself trapped in his arms.

“Yes?” His voice betrayed his contentment.

“How am I to sit, if you keep me here?”

“Well, of course, you will sit in my lap,” He said as he sat in the chair he had fallen so miserably asleep in only a few hours ago, pulling Elizabeth with him so that she finally rested on his lap. “Did you have anything else in mind?”

“I love you, Will.” She said merrily. “You and your mysterious ways. Now, speak!”

Georgiana was in such absent-minded felicity that morning that she could not prepare a proper cup of coffee. At her first attempt, she added four spoonfuls of sugar when she intended to pour none. At her second, she filled the cup with milk while preparing black coffee. When her third effort was proved to be an equal failure, the reason of her distraction, Alex, kissed her lightly on the cheek and volunteered to go and buy coffee and croissants for everyone. Georgiana accepted his offer with gratitude and sat on the couch reliving in her mind their romantic night, while waiting for him. She had noticed the newspaper on the table, and had read titles like “Acts of brutality at social gathering” or “Monsters behind polite faces” with perfect indifference. Her thoughts as well as her heart, were full of Alex. The handsome, romantic, gentle, tender and passionate man that had come to stay in her life. She barely remembered having met anyone by the name of Jason Younge.

Her pleasant musings were interrupted all too soon by the quick steps that were heard descending the stairs. A moment later, Monika appeared. Georgiana prepared to greet her with a shining face, but her smile was immediately replaced by a questioning and then worried look. Monika used to be the rock for them all; always the calmest, the voice of reason, the one who did nothing hurriedly. And now she stood in the hallway, agitated as she had never been before, with the lines of her face accentuated by some evidently strong emotions, and her hands playing nervously with the overnight bag that she carried in her hands. Georgiana forgot to say good morning, and just stared at her. Monika broke the silence, speaking in a low voice.

“Isn’t Alex here?”

“No, he just popped off to get us some breakfast.” Georgiana could not help sounding excited about it. “He’ll be back very soon.”

Monika shook her head dismissively. “No, I haven’t much time. He’ll wake up at any minute.” She said pointing upstairs, at the rooms. “Just tell Alex to call Phil to replace me. I’ll be gone for a couple of days.” She reached the door, without looking back. Georgiana stopped her before opening it.

“Wait!” She called at her. “Why are you running away?” She asked in a lower, calm voice.

“You cannot begin to imagine how complicated things have become in one night.” Monika answered, while her jaw was slightly trembling.

“So it has finally happened.” Georgiana said, shaking her head. Meeting Monika’s surprised look, she added: “You are not the only one who has insight into people, you know.”

Monika nodded resignedly. “Yes, it has happened. And I have to disappear as soon as possible.”

“But why? You are adults, you surely…”

Monika interrupted her with a sad look and a firm voice. “Look, Anna, I have been there. I have seen this play hundreds of times. I was outside his hotel room night after night, when he….he… he was spending the night,” her voice wavered a bit at this point, “with every woman that responded to his ridiculous flirting.”

“Now, you know that you exaggerate,” Georgiana tried to offer some solace, even though she suspected that it was the least Monika wanted.

“No, I do not exaggerate. I have planned his escapes from these situations, when he called me in a voice full of panic and asked me to save him from romantic mornings. So, I am doing him this favour. I am disappearing all on my own.”

“You are not asking him what he wants now. You just assume.” Georgiana said pointedly.

“Yes, but I know what I want.” Monika answered with determination. Georgiana thought that she was being extremely stubborn, but then the other woman reached for her hand and squeezed it affectionately.

“Hey, I am not leaving forever. Just taking a two-day vacation without consulting anyone. This is very like me, you know.” She winked at her and Georgiana smiled.

“By the way, Anna, I am really happy for you and Alex.” Monika said closing the door behind her. Georgiana smiled as she was left alone in the hall, thinking how clearly love must have been written on her face.

Less than a minute later, Alex entered the house, looking surprised.

“I think I saw someone leaving as I was coming, Anna. Who could it be?”

Georgiana opened her mouth to speak, but the noise of doors banging upstairs and then feet running down the stairs stopped her. Richard appeared, half naked, with an expression on his face that was really difficult to decipher. It could have been guilt, or anger, or despair.

“Where is she?” He shouted.

Perhaps Monika’s right hook has seriously injured the Don Juan in my cousin, Georgiana thought and then she replied calmly, addressing mostly Alex.

“It was Monika that you saw leaving. She will be gone for a couple of days.”

“Fourteen days. Only fourteen days.” Charlotte sighed resignedly.

“Charlotte, it’s your wedding, not your execution that we’re talking about!” Jane said good-humouredly but her meaning was clear: You chose him, we tried to dissuade you, we said that we would support and accept any decision you made, so don’t cry like a spoilt baby now.

“Yes, my wedding.” Charlotte repeated dryly and then a sick look spread across her face. Jane grew worried and caressed her back gently.

“My dear, you can always change your decision.” She smiled. “If the prospect is so disgusting to you…”

“No, no.” Charlotte stopped her abruptly. “It’s just morning sickness. Can I use your bathroom?”

While Jane was waiting for Charlotte to return, she wondered if her nausea was due to the baby or to the prospect of marrying Collins. She didn’t dwell on the subject too long however. It was true that on this particular morning she could concentrate on no other subject than Charles Bingley. His note was on the table, as if daring her to read it once more. What for? She had learnt it by heart, as she had done with the extraordinary articles that the newspaper he had left her contained. She could not imagine how Jason had lost his control at a public gathering. And beating was not like him. He may have had millions of weaknesses, he was unjust, selfish, and partly violent, but he had never beaten her. And now, everyone was accusing him of the only thing he had never been: the symbol of domestic violence. Despite her kind character, Jane could not help smiling at the irony. Compassion for her ex-husband was out of question.

The clearer her sentiments for her ex-husband became, the more complicated her feelings towards Charles turned. She remembered the open, flirtatious and easy way during the first weeks of their acquaintance with pleasure. When she thought about Scotland and their night walk, the only time they were open to each other, something stirred in her. She could not define it, she could not account for it, but it definitely resided in her heart, there was no denying that. But the catastrophic Saturday morning followed, when he had made her feel cheap and stained, like Jason used to. She had decided not to think about him anymore, but their meeting on Christmas day had occurred unexpectedly. He was still unjust and mean to her back then, but his behaviour on that day didn’t inspire anger. He was broken, yes, she could feel that. After the revelations, he had retired in a corner and never met her eyes again, not even for a parting look. Jane had been so worried for her sister afterwards that she didn’t have time to think of him again. Then she had to help her mother to recover from the shock of Charlotte’s wedding. Her reaction had been very violent in the beginning, and poor William Lucas was still mourning for the three extremely rare and expensive vases that her rage had broken into hundreds of pieces. Now she was helping Charlotte with the preparations, watching the bride’s ill mood and morning sickness. All in all, she had been through some trying weeks, but at least she had managed to get Charles out of her mind. However, after what he had done last night, she could now think of little else. Striking Jason for her sake, defending her reputation in front of the most intimidating members of London society and even threatening her ex-husband to stop his lies once and for all… She could still not believe that this had really happened, even though the full report left little room for any doubts.

And how was she supposed to feel? Anger, betrayal, gratitude, or…what? He wasn’t asking for forgiveness yet she remembered, he wanted to say it in person. She longed for and dreaded the prospect at the same time. And when exactly did he mean to come? Would he do it during the course of that day? Her limbs felt weak at the thought. No, no, she assured herself, it was certain that he would let a day or two pass. Maybe even a whole week.

Then the doorbell rang.

With flushed cheeks and not a steady hand she opened the door to see him standing there, leaning on the wall, with a look at least as embarrassed as hers. A little smile curved his lips when he saw her.

“Hi.” He said hesitatingly.

“Hi.” She replied shyly, continuing to stare at him.

After a few moments, very difficult for both of them, he spoke again.

“May I come in?” Charles asked with such a vulnerable look that Jane knew that whatever her feelings for him, they were certainly not negative.

“Yes, of course…Excuse me. Please come in and sit.”

After a few seconds of painful silence, he took a deep breath and started speaking.

“After what I have done and said I am not entitled to shyness. I hope you have read the newspaper.”

Jane only nodded. She felt completely incapable of commenting in any way.

“I did not come here to boast about it. Actually, I have done nothing to be proud of. Jason wouldn’t need any punishment if there were not people like me who believed his … stories in the first place.” He said with a look of disgust, while Jane swallowed with difficulty.

“Last night, after what had happened…we met him again, privately. He…he called Monika a…” his voice was trembling “a s**t.” He managed to finish the sentence and made a gesture with his hand, as if dismissing a painful thought.

“It was frightening, Jane. Frightening because he reminded me of me. He sounded like me. ” His fingers ran nervously through his hair, as he continued. “What did I do differently? First of all, I believed his account, while I knew you and not him. I believed him because my stupid, selfish, narcissist ego found in his series of wicked lies a satisfying explanation for the reason why you were not begging me to be with you. I didn’t betray only you and my promises to you by believing Jason, I betrayed myself as well. I sacrificed the most precious and tender feelings I ever had in my life for the sake of the confidence in my charms…What kind of self-esteem am I entitled to after that?” His voice betrayed despair, pure and sincere despair.

“And it’s not only that. I’d wish it was only that, because then I’d just have stayed away from you, keeping the pretence of formal politeness between us, and the true punishment would have been mine and mine only. But, no, the spoilt boy had to have his way, showing that he was not to be trifled with, that no woman had a right to prefer others to him.” A bitter laugh escaped him and Jane, who had been listening to his admission in shocked silence, was almost tempted to reach for his hand and squeeze it. She remained still however.

“What right did I have to protest? What right did I have to complain? Why should I be displeased, even if everything was true?” He spat in a raised voice. “As far as I was concerned, you were a free woman, you had made no promises to me, you had never lied to me, never talked about your past; what right did I have to judge? Even if Jason was the cheated husband, it would have been between you and him. Why should I come here and ask to bestow justice?” He looked at her with his huge blue eyes and her heart was deeply touched.

“Even if you were the cold hearted shrew Jason described, I would still have had to beg for your forgiveness. You see, I was not much different than that picture before.” He sighed. “Yes, I never actually married, but when did I respect my constantly changing partners? When did they respect me?” He buried his face in his hands, but when Jane moved towards him, he raised a hand to stop her.

“No, no, please. Not your compassion. I’d feel even more ridiculous than I already do.”

“You are not ridiculous, Charles.” Jane replied softly. “You are…” she paused searching for the right word, “brave.”

“I don’t think so, Jane.”

“Yes, you are.” She stated firmly. “I don’t know many people who would admit such hard truths about themselves. Personally, I would be terrified to do so.”

“You have no hard truths to admit about yourself.” Charles reminded her, smiling sadly. “And I do feel terrified right now.”

“There is no reason for this. I am not so very vindictive, you know.” Jane smiled sweetly.

“No, but you are the woman I love.” His voice was low, but steady and his eyes were looking directly into hers.

Jane’s eyes widened in surprise. She certainly did not expect him to speak of love. Not now, not yet.

“I am not asking you to answer this.” Charles understood her astonishment and seemed embarrassed. “But it’s true, Jane. Even if I treated you the way I did, even if I said all those horrible things, I loved you then and I love you now. I thought you would want to know.”

Jane could still not find anything to say.

“I acted irresponsibly and loved you in a wrong way. Like Jason. He did love you; I know that, I saw that. But not enough, or perhaps in a distorted way. I am afraid that I am the same pathetic sort of man. For this reason, I am not asking you to love me back…Not yet.”

“Charles, what exactly are you telling me now?” Jane asked, perplexed and with traces of annoyance in her voice. This man was confusing her, reminding her both of precious moments and ugly experiences of the past.

He nodded understandingly and smiled sadly. Then, looking directly in the eye, he said steadily:

“I am telling you that I am really sorry for everything I’ve thought, and said, and done. And that I am asking for your forgiveness. I am begging for your forgiveness. And that I would consider myself very lucky if we were on friendly terms again; or at least if I knew that you didn’t hate me anymore.” He looked at her expectantly.

“I don’t hate you anymore.” Jane answered simply.

“Thank you.” He continued holding her gaze. “I am not asking for anything more. I deserve nothing more…” He paused and then added cautiously: “At present.”

“At present?” Jane found sources of boldness inside her that she never thought had existed. “You mean that you will ask for more in the future?” Why am I asking this? Am I willing to give more in the future? Am I forgiving him too easily?

“At present, Jane, I am certainly not worthy of anyone’s love.” She attempted to interrupt him, but he didn’t let her. “No, please. I do not hate myself, don’t worry on my behalf. I just do not know who exactly I am. Am I this cruel sexist who attacked you, or the one who loves you so much and wants nothing but your happiness? Honestly, I don’t know, Jane. But if I am pleased with the answer, I am not giving you up. Even if I will have to wait forever.”

Jane’s mouth was agape. She had never expected that her meeting with Charles would turn into such a revelation of his deepest fears and hopes. She had hoped for nothing better than a dry “I am sorry, because the stories were not true.” But now, what could she answer to a speech like this?

Sounds of stifled sobbing brought her back to reality. She looked at Charles who seemed as surprised as she was. Then, turning her face to the other end of the room, she saw Charlotte, who was leaning in the doorframe between the living room and the kitchen, with tears streaming down her face.

“Oh, my God,” Jane cried as she got up and hastily moved to her, with a look of guilt and apprehension. “Charlotte, I am so sorry…I completely forgot about you! Are you ok? What happened?”

“Nothing,” Charlotte managed to say between her sobs. “I am fine, really. Didn’t want to interrupt you, so I stayed here and…” she took a deep breath and continued: “listened. Oh, Jane that was so sweet!”

Jane’s face must have turned crimson, as she glanced apologetically to Charles, murmuring: “Pregnancy has made her very sentimental” or something to this effect anyway, but Charlotte demanded her attention as she collapsed into her arms, crying in a shrunken voice:

“Bill can never say such sweet things to me… He can’t even think of anything romantic.”

Jane was not paying any attention to her words. She was moving her hand up and down Charlotte’s back, trying to appease her.

“I want to live something like this too!” Charlotte suddenly shouted.

“Trust me, you don’t.” Jane and Charles spoke together and a chuckle escaped them both. But Charlotte didn’t seem to be listening to them. Her eyes shot wide open, as a sudden realization struck her. She moved away from Jane’s embrace, clenched her fists, swept her tears, lifted her face and said with determination.

“I deserve something like this.” The other two shook their heads resignedly. “I am not marrying Bill Collins!” She announced proudly.

The incessant ringing brought him back to consciousness, slowly, teasingly, playing with his nerves and senses. He opened his eyes and grabbed the phone that stood on the nightstand.

“Yes?” He growled.

A panicked voice answered him. He interrupted the other man before he had the chance of speaking more than three words.

“You stupid idiot, I told you never to call me on this number!” He hissed.

“Trouble, sir.”

His eyes shot open, adrenaline beginning to alert all his nerves, quickly, taking the last trace of sleep away from him.

“What?” He never lost his calmness, nothing could shake him. How bad could it be this time?

“Younge spoke up, sir.”

“Younge did what?” He thought he had misheard. This could not be happening. Not now. Not after all those years.

“He dropped hints to Darcy.”

“What?” No, he would not lose his temper now. He had everything in control, for years. A vindictive boy who had not learnt his lesson could not threaten him.

“Darcy’s people humiliated Younge in public and he tried to save his reputation by offering to provide Darcy with information.”

“Did Darcy accept?” his heart beating wildly.

“No.” The answer made him breathe again.

“Who heard?” He felt as if he had everything under control again.

“Darcy, Bingley, Fitzwilliam-the actor, he is, you know, Darcy’s cousin…”

“I don’t care about his family!” He spat. “Who else?”

“A woman. Never seen her before. Sir, we were lucky that one of our men happened around and heard…”

Think quickly. Act quickly.

“Sir?”

“Go to Younge. Silence him…”

“Silence him? Sir, that could raise suspicions...”

“Just make sure that he won’t forget his lesson this time… We’ll take better care of him after some time has passed.” As we have done before.

“Yes, sir.”

“And after you’re done with him, put him in the first plane for the U.S. The English climate makes him act dangerously stupid.”

“Is that all, sir?”

“No. Follow Darcy. Do not lose him from your sight. Make sure that he will not meet Younge. Ever again.” I’ll do anything that is needed to make sure of that.

“We are already doing this, sir.”

“Good. Where is he now?”

A pause. Then a hesitant voice.

“Meryton’s offices.”

“D**n-it!” He spat. This is not good. He is moving quickly. Has he combined the clues?

“And Elizabeth Bennet has just joined him there, sir.”

Bad, this is turning really bad. I didn’t like her in the interview. Something in her eyes…She is too much like the other.

“The journalist? You had told me she had left the country not long after my interview!”

“She must have just returned.”

Ok, do not panic, do not panic… It can be a coincidence. How could these two have possibly figured everything out so quickly? Calm down, d**n-it!

“Do not lose sight of either! And I want a full report every half an hour. Send three men to Younge. Remember, you must be very discreet.” His voice was cold, impersonal. Nothing serious is happening.

“Of course, sir.”

“And do not call me at this number again! I am activating the other as we’re speaking.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I am waiting for the report. Go now.”

“Bye, Mr. Wickham.”

He felt his blood pressure reaching dangerous heights.

“For God’s sake, do not say my name!”

Continued in Next Section