Chapter Two

Posted on: 2008-10-16

Denny considered Wickham's plan. It was by no means foolproof, but still, it inspired great awe. It was daring and risky, and if Wickham could pull it off, it would be ingenious.

"Do you really think it will work? Won't she hate you after that?" Denny asked.

"Of course it will work. There will be consequences for her and her family should she tell."

"And for you," Denny pointed out. Wickham's face turned sour.

"Yes, for me, too. But I’ve got backup plans.”

“Oh?”

“How do you think I’d look in a red coat? Quite dashing, I think. All the girls go mad for an officer.”

Denny grinned at his friend. "You're a good man, Wickham." The two laughed, and Darcy's jaw clenched it anger. A good man! A good man would never plan what Wickham was planning. He should know, as he aspired in every way to be as good a man as possible. A good man would do everything in his power to prevent Wickham's plan from bearing fruit. A good man would warn the intended victim.

Oh, no. He couldn't do that. She would never believe him. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was on Wickham's side. Why would she believe his enemy? If Wickham were holding true to form, he would have spread some form of bitter lies; at least to the woman he meant to marry. No, Darcy couldn't warn Elizabeth.

But he had to! He couldn't let this happen to her. Damn Wickham! Always complicating his life. First with his sister, now with Elizabeth. Georgiana. Darcy could never let what happened to her happen to his Elizabeth. Very well. He had to do it. He could do it without telling anyone else, if it made him feel better. Yes, he'd do that. No one else would know. That meant speaking to Elizabeth in private, alone, just the two of them.

Oh, no. He couldn't do that…

Meanwhile, Elizabeth glanced back towards Denny and Wickham. They were laughing, no doubt over some remembered joke, but Wickham gave her an endearing grin and a wave. Elizabeth smiled back. Her eyes then flickered over to Mr. Darcy for a moment, and the vicious nature of his frown nearly frightened her. Was he so displeased at seeing his old enemy so happily situated? That must be it, she concluded as she turned her head to face front. It fit perfectly with her idea of the man's character. He was insufferable!

She walked the rest of the way to Longbourn in silence. Elizabeth breathed deeply and attempted to enjoy her surroundings. They were just passing over a bridge, and the sound of the water passing below was lovely, a hushed whispering that soothed her anger. Elizabeth wished she had not invited Mr. Darcy. However much she wanted to witness his discomfort, she was no longer sure it was worth hers.

When they reached Longbourn, Mrs. Bennet greeted Mr. Bingley with much enthusiasm. She extended a cordial welcome to Captain Denny, and barely said two words to Mr. Darcy. Before Elizabeth could pass her, Mrs. Bennet's hand grasped her daughter's arm.

“Who invited Mr. Darcy?” she whispered sharply to her daughter.

“I did, Mamma.”

“Lizzy! I’m sure I don’t know what possessed you. You’ll never endear yourself to Mr. Wickham by putting him in uncomfortable situations like this!”

“Mr. Wickham and I are not engaged, nor is he courting me. Besides, I think it is Mr. Darcy who will be uncomfortable here.”

"Headstrong girl! Well, there's nothing for it. I don't suppose we could find a way to kick him out…" Even as she stated the impropriety of such a thing, Elizabeth could practically see her mind racing with possibilities.

"No, Mamma. Let’s go in. The others are surely wondering where we are gone." Elizabeth removed her arm from where it was still in her mother's grasp, and entered the sitting room, finding a set by her sister Lydia. As soon as he saw her enter the room, Wickham turn from Denny towards Darcy.

"Tell me, Mr. Darcy, how does your sister? She'll be, what, sixteen now?"

"Seventeen," came Mr. Darcy's curt reply. His eyes narrowed and he shifted in his seat.

"Such a charming young lady she was when I last saw her. Has her shyness improved much since, oh, was it two years ago?" he asked carelessly.

"No, I can't say it has. If anything, Wickham, it has gotten worse." The men's eyes met for a moment, until Wickham blinked twice. Darcy took this as Wickham's concession of losing their short staring match, and returned his attention to his tea, angling his body so Wickham could no longer talk to him.

In the brief lull in the conversation that followed, Mrs. Bennet turned to Mr. Bingley.

"Did you not promise to hold a ball, Mr. Bingley?" He nodded. "And when will it take place, Mr. Bingley?"

"It has not yet been determined, madam," Bingley replied. "My sister is…having a few difficulties in matters relating to the ball."

"I would be happy to help her if she should need assistance," Mrs. Bennet offered in what she was sure was a gracious manner.

"I'm sure Miss Bingley is perfectly capable of planning a ball, Mamma," Elizabeth interjected before her mother could begin on all the things she thought one ought to do when planning a ball.

"I am very fond of balls, Mr. Bingley. Do make sure you have it soon, for Kitty and I are dying of anticipation. We shall dance with all the officers, you know, for we promised Colonel and Mrs. Forster that if a ball was held while the regiment was in Meryton we would. Oh! You are going to invite the officers, are you not? It would be quite shocking if you did not. One might consider it an insult to the profession of a soldier!" Lydia's face was horrified as she spoke the last words.

"I have every intention of inviting the officers, Miss Lydia."

"There now! Kitty and I shall rest easy at night with your assurances. Though I daresay it makes no difference to Jane, or Lizzy, for that matter, seeing as they are both violently--"

"Lydia, hush!" whispered Elizabeth, lightly smacking her sisters' arm. Kitty giggled, and Lydia snorted, but fell silent. Elizabeth shot a mortified glance at Mr. Wickham, who smiled reassuringly at her. This would have mollified her, had she not also seen a hint of contempt in Mr. Darcy's eyes. How she regretted inviting him to tea! Mr. Wickham's triumph over him had not taken place as she had hoped. Instead, to her great mortification, her mother and sisters had chosen to expose themselves to more ridicule than they already invited. Her face flushed slightly and she looked down. Silence reigned in the room once again, until Captain Denny broke it.

"I must be getting back to Meryton. I have some business I must attend to. Wickham, old man, shall you walk with me? We have much to discuss," the captain said with a smile.

"Certainly, old friend, if my cousins will excuse me." The girls all assented, wishing him a pleasant walk with his friend. Darcy sat up a bit straighter. This was his chance to warn Elizabeth. But how? Wickham and Denny exited the room, and Darcy glanced outside.

"Mrs. Bennet, that is a prettyish kind of little wilderness you have to one side of your lawn. Indeed, very pretty. I should be glad to get a closer look at it, if you would permit me."

"Certainly, Mr. Darcy, you may do as you choose," replied Mrs. Bennet coldly.

"And--may I request that Miss Elizabeth favor me with her company? As a guide," he clarified.

"Of course. Lizzy, my dear?" Very confused Mrs. Bennet looked at her second child. There wasn't something between the girl and Mr. Darcy, was there? No, impossible. She puzzled out his motives for a moment, then decided it wasn't worth it. Mr. Darcy was not worth thinking about.

Elizabeth nodded, and rose to fetch her bonnet and spencer. Mrs. Bennet followed her out.

"I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have that disagreeable man all to yourself. But I hope you will not mind too much; he did request it, and you know he is such a great, intimidating man, I doubt we could have refused him."

"Do not worry yourself, Mamma. I shall be fine. Mr. Darcy has his reasons, I’m sure, but we needn’t trouble ourselves with them." Elizabeth replied. Mrs. Bennet smiled a bit before returning to the drawing room.

Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy had barely reached the "prettyish kind of little wilderness"--what Elizabeth thought of as beautifully natural, but was sure Mr. Darcy found horrifyingly untended to--when the latter stopped and turned to face her.

"Miss Bennet," he said, and in those two words all his anxiety for her falling into the hands of Wickham surfaced. It did not escape the lady's notice.

"Mr. Darcy?"

"I have asked you to accompany me for a very particular reason, one you most likely cannot guess." He paused for breath, and Elizabeth interjected,

"You are correct, Mr. Darcy. I am at a loss as to why you should wish to take a walk with me."

"But it will all be clear. Miss Bennet. I ask you--no, I beg you--do not trust Mr. Wickham. He means only to hurt you." Elizabeth looked as if she would speak, but Darcy hurried on. "His manners are easy and charming. Far more appealing than mine, I am aware. But if you only knew what lies beneath the façade, Miss Bennet! Please. Mr. Wickham is not who he seems." And he proceeded to tell her exactly what Mr. Wickham had plotted to do. Elizabeth began by looking incredulous, but fury grew more and more the dominant emotion on her face as Mr. Darcy's narrative continued. When Darcy was finished, Elizabeth took her chance.

"Mr. Darcy," she stated, fury coloring her voice. Darcy's head came up and he met her eyes, so filled with fury they made him cringe internally. "I cannot help but hold you in contempt for what you have just spoken. I have every reason in the world to think ill of you, and none to think so of my cousin. My cousin, Mr. Darcy! You dare come to my own home and fabricate this…this…horrible, dreadful slander about my relative, and furthermore, my friend! How dare you! It is low, very low of you indeed, especially considering that you deprived him of all that he deserved!"

"I assure you, Miss Bennet, Mr. Wickham has gotten everything he deserves," Darcy said coldly, contempt staining his voice.

"Oh, yes, you would think so! You who have disregarded your own father's wishes simply to inconvenience the man, you who forcibly separated him from the one he loved simply because it did not suit you to have them married! You have deprived him of the best years of his life, of the happiness all young men his age ought to feel when they know there is a woman who loves them! And you are furious, I'm sure, to know that he has a comfortable living with your aunt. I suppose you did everything in your power to prevent his having gotten it, but your aunt saw his merit where you did not!"

"And this is your knowledge of the events that have transpired between myself and Wickham! On these grounds you accuse me of such cruelty! My dear Miss Bennet," he said with sarcasm, "I apologize for not having realized that my faults are too heavy in your mind for you to give anything I say fair consideration! I did not realize your mind could be so blinded by a handsome face and pretty words! But all women are the same, are they not? They none of them use their sense when they most ought to."

"You--! You're quite right! Nothing you ever say shall be considered as having a grain of truth in it! Your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish distain for the feelings of others make you unfit to judge in this world! You, sir, cold and unfeeling as you are, are no gentleman!" Elizabeth cried. Darcy froze, and seemed to deflate. The anger left his eyes, replaced by a dull, heavy sadness.

"You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your meaning. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time with my foolishness, and accept my best wishes for your health and safety." With that, he strode away from her, and instead of returning to the house, made his was directly to his horse. As soon as he was out of sight, Elizabeth collapsed onto a nearby bench.

"Insufferable man!" she cried as tears began to form in her eyes. She sat on the bench and cried for a full ten minutes, before Jane came to find her.

"Lizzy! Whatever is the matter?"

"Oh, Jane!" Elizabeth cried, and her sister rushed forward to fold her into an embrace.

"What happened? Did you and Mr. Darcy fight? Mr. Bingley and I thought we heard yelling, but we weren't sure."

"Yes, that was us," Elizabeth said, freeing herself from her sisters' arms and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm afraid we had a rather violent clash of opinions. But everything is all right, Jane. I'm being foolish. Thank you for comforting me," she said with a smile. Jane smiled back.

"Come. Let us return to the house. Shall we fetch you a glass of wine? It will help, I am sure." Elizabeth laughed.

"No, no, Jane, I am well. Truly, I am much better for having you here. The disagreement with Mr. Darcy was nothing, really. It shall not bother me again."

“I hope it won’t. I do so hate seeing you sad.”

“Dearest Jane,” Lizzy said with a smile. “How good you are to me.” Jane smiled at her younger sister, and the two reentered their home.

“Lizzy! Jane! Where have you been?” Mrs. Bennet demanded.

“Lizzy and I were seeing off Mr. Darcy, Mamma,” Jane said.

“Oh. Well, that was very polite of you, but Mr. Darcy doesn’t deserve our kindness or consideration. After he slighted you so at the assembly ball, my poor Lizzy!”

“Indeed, Mamma, you needn’t fear that either of us are disposed to think particularly well of Mr. Darcy. I dislike him a great deal, and Jane is no more fond of him that she is of everyone else,” Lizzy said with a teasing smile to her sister.

“Oh, Lizzy,” Jane said as the door opened to admit Mr. Wickham.

“Ah! Mr. Wickham, you are returned,” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. “Captain Denny arrived safely in Meryton with time to pursue his business there?”

“Yes, madam, ample time,” Mr. Wickham replied.

“I am glad to hear it.” She paused for a moment. “It is a fine day, though, is it not, Lizzy? Should you not like to take a walk? I’m sure Mr. Wickham would be happy to oblige you with his company.”

“Oh, no, Mamma. Mr. Wickham has only just been walking a great deal, and I wouldn’t wish him to overexert himself.”

“Nonsense!” cried Mrs. Bennet, at the very same moment Mr. Wickham himself said,

“I would be very happy if you would honor me with the privilege of escorting you on a walk, my dear Cousin.”

“Very well,” agreed Elizabeth with a smile.

“So,” Wickham asked when they were out of earshot of the house, “How was Darcy in my absence? He held true to form and said not a single word before he left abruptly, I suppose.”

“No,” Elizabeth said, enjoying the surprise and curiosity on his face.

“No?”

“He—Mr. Darcy—requested, in a rather roundabout way, to have a private audience with me.”

“He…did…what?” Mr. Wickham’s face whitened with fear that Darcy had told his story, but he could see in Elizabeth’s face that she took it for anger at Mr. Darcy’s presumption.

“Mr. Darcy requested to have a closer look at my favorite area of the garden,” she said, pointing toward where she and Darcy had conversed, “and he said he needed a guide. My presence was asked for.”

“I don’t understand. What could he have wanted with you? Unless…” A terrible idea formed in Wickham’s head. He had seen, in the past afternoon, the way Darcy watched Elizabeth. Perhaps he had proposed, and his 10,000 a year had tempted Elizabeth. Suppose Elizabeth had accepted him?

“He merely wanted to spread lies about you. He asked me to keep away from you,” Elizabeth said with some scorn. Wickham cried in outrage, hoping he wouldn’t be made to act on his words.

“He did! The scoundrel, I ought to challenge him! I should—”

“I wish someone would challenge him, but this is hardly the time, place, or reason for such a thing. Mr. Darcy’s lies had no effect on me, I assure you. He’s not worth the trouble of a duel.” Wickham looked at Elizabeth’s pleading, trusting face, and his own seemed to deflate.

“I am sorry, my dear cousin. It’s just that—well, Darcy seems to think we have a longstanding rivalry. Whatever I have, he wants.”

“But that’s absurd!”

“It is. But it’s the truth. And I’m afraid Darcy may have seen—that is—he may have noticed my, ah, partiality for you. Because Miss Elizabeth—cousin—may I call you Lizzy?” he asked, suddenly seeming a little flustered. Elizabeth smiled her consent. “Lizzy, then. I must say that from the first word that came from your mouth, I have felt a very strong pull to you.”

Dear me, he’s going to propose! Elizabeth thought. But after so short an acquaintance, she couldn’t possibly accept him. It wouldn’t be proper.

“I understand that we haven’t known each other long, and any engagement would be viewed as—indeed, it would be—rather hasty, and so, may I instead ask for your permission to court you?”

“You may ask, sir,” Elizabeth replied with a smile.

“Then may I have your permission to court you, sweet Lizzy?”

“You may.”

Wickham smiled. “You have made me quite happy, Lizzy, love. It is my hope that someday…you will make me the happiest of men. My sweet,” he murmured as he placed a kiss on her hand before turning back to the house. Elizabeth smiled. Her heart fluttered a small bit as she watched his retreating back. She sat down on her bench. It was the same bench she had sat on earlier, crying in anger after Mr. Darcy had left. How different were her feelings now!

Days passed in a blur of happiness for Elizabeth. Mr. Wickham was everything she could have desired. Their conversations were interesting and covered all sorts of topics. Together they laughed at the more dim-witted things Mrs. Bennet did, together they took walks in the surrounding countryside and debated whether or not Hertfordshire was the equal of Derbyshire. Each was quite a bit prejudiced in favor of where they had grown up, and it was one debate they were forced to laughingly conclude that no one would ever win. After a few days, Elizabeth began to find a yellow rose outside her door when she woke up. Once she found a poem tucked into the pages of the book she was reading, penned in familiar handwriting. The verse was not particularly good, but it was touching all the same. The entire town assumed there would be an engagement soon. Everyone thought Elizabeth was one of the luckiest creatures in the world. And she felt as though she were.

The only person who was not satisfied with events was Mr. Darcy. He watched with panic and fear Elizabeth’s growing affection for Wickham. To an unknowledgeable observer, it would seem that Wickham too was becoming more entranced with Elizabeth. Darcy knew better. He made a point of not going to Meryton often. It was a hard decision to make, as it meant he was more often in the company of Miss Bingley, but in the end, it was better to have her throwing herself at him than to see Elizabeth believe Wickham’s lies.

One rainy morning, he was sitting peacefully in the Netherfield library, having escaped for a moment Miss Bingley’s clutches. Instead of making the most of the time, however, his mind insisted on torturing itself, thinking about Elizabeth, and Wickham, Elizabeth with Wickham, Elizabeth trusting Wickham, Elizabeth hurt by, married to Wickham. It was as much as he could bear to think about it when it hadn’t happened. He could only imagine how painful it would be when it had. He wished there were some other way to save Elizabeth, but he had done everything in his power to protect her.

And then an idea occurred to him. Everything in his personal power he had done. But what about the power of others? Suddenly, he saw a new hope. It was up to Georgiana, of course. He wouldn’t expose his sister to that pain unless she agreed.

He sprang out of his chair. He would write to Georgiana now! With any luck, she could be here by the Netherfield ball. Retreating to his room, he wrote the letter. My dear sister, he began, I have a request to make of you…

When he had finished, he sealed the letter and gave it to a servant to post. Now all he had to do was await his sister’s reply.

“We’re almost there, Georgie. Just another hour or two,” said Colonel Edward Fitzwilliam. Georgiana smiled at him.

“It’s beautiful country, isn’t it? You can see why Bingley chose a house here.”

“You can,” the Colonel smiled back. Georgiana paused.

“Edward?”

“Yes, Georgie.”

“Why do you think it means so much to him that this Miss Elizabeth not be harmed?” she asked. Edward sighed.

“I’ve been wondering about that myself,” he replied. “I haven’t a clue. From what you say of his previous letters, the Bennet’s are of too low a status for Darcy to consider marrying one of them, and he mentions also that this Miss Elizabeth doesn’t like him very much.”

“I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t,” murmured Georgiana. Edward grinned.

“Oh, I can. You’ve never seen your brother among strangers, but he doesn’t do very well there.”

“Well, he’s shy!”

“Yes, but not everyone sees it that way. His shyness comes off as snobbish pride. He’s insulted many people by simply not opening his mouth—they believe he thinks himself above them. My guess is your brother somehow insulted Miss Elizabeth Bennet without realizing what he was doing, and she bears him a strong grudge.”

“Perhaps you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” stated Edward. Georgiana laughed quietly.

“But it doesn’t answer why Darcy is so determined that Miss Bennet not be hurt by Wickham. I’m sure Wickham has done other fiendish things since we last saw him, but Darcy never made any moves to stop him before. Why now?"

"I suppose it must be that now he has the power to stop it, and feels morally obligated to do so.”

“That’s a very plausible reason,” said Georgiana slowly, “but I don’t buy it.” Edward raised an eyebrow. “No. I think my brother is in love.”

“In love! Georgie, he would never fall in love with someone of the Bennet’s status. He perceives them as too far beneath him.”

“Yes, but Edward, love is irrational. I think my dear brother is finally feeling the effects of it.” Edward considered this, looking at the situation from this perspective. It all made much more sense with Georgie’s explanation.

“You know, you might be right,” he said, surprised. Georgie smiled smugly.

“She must be lovely,” Georgie sighed. “I can hardly wait to meet her.”

“Ah, Georgie, keep in mind that she believes all of Wickham’s lies right now. It might not be wise—”

“Nonsense. I’m sure she’s wonderful, despite having fallen into Wickham’s trap. I did, too, you know. It’s a trap that’s very easy to fall into.” Edward nodded, allowing this. Suddenly Georgie looked him right in the eye.

“We have to help my brother win her!” she said excitedly.

“Oh, no, Georgiana, you’re not going to make a matchmaker out of me,” Edward groaned.

“I most certainly am. We’ll show Miss Elizabeth Bennet how wonderful my brother is. She won’t stand a chance.”

“Perhaps,” said Edward amusedly, “it would be best to wait and see if your brother is really in love with her. Just to be sure.”

“Of course he loves her, Edward, don’t be silly. You said yourself it was the most likely possibility.”

“I did not,” protested Edward.

“You said something like it,” Georgiana said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We need a plan, Edward.”

“Georgie…”

“I know, we’ll wait until we’re sure. But we ought to have a plan just in case.” She smiled hopefully up at her cousin. “Please?” Edward slumped, and Georgiana knew she had won. Clapping delightedly, she declared, “This will be such fun!”

Chapter Three

Posted on: 2008-12-02

Darcy had been waiting by a window all morning. When the carriage finally pulled up, he rushed down to greet his sister.

A servant opened the door for her, and in she walked.

"William," she greeted him.

"Georgiana." He smiled and enveloped her in a tight hug.

"How I've missed you!" exclaimed Georgiana.

"And I you." He pulled back and held her at arms length. "You look well," he said.

“Doesn’t she? You’ll have your hands full with her when she comes out, Darcy. All the young men will be wild about her,” the Colonel said as he entered the building.

"It's been far too long, Edward." Darcy shook his cousin's hand. "How's your brother?"

"John couldn't be happier. He and Louise haven't been married long enough to realize that domestic felicity is something that doesn't exist."

Darcy laughed. "Someone will change your mind about marriage yet, man."

"Don't preach to me about getting married, Darcy. You're as much a bachelor as myself." He paused. "But how are you? I understand you brought us here on very serious premises." All trace of a smile left Darcy's face.

"When shall we meet her, then?" asked Georgiana gravely.

"We can call today, if you wish. As soon as you've rested from the journey," Darcy said.

"Nonsense. I'm perfectly rested. Let's go now."

"Are you sure, Georgiana? It's been an awfully long ride," hedged Edward.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're just being lazy. Come. We're going to meet Miss Elizabeth Bennet. It's why we came, isn't it?" Darcy nodded, but Edward caught the double meaning to his young cousins words. He sighed and nodded, again agreeing to play his part in her plans. Georgie smiled.

"Darcy!" cried Bingley as he strode down the hall. "You didn't tell me your sister had arrived. And Fitzwilliam, too. It's wonderful to have you both here. A great pleasure!"

"Bingley, good to see you again," Edward said as they shook hands.

"And Miss Darcy, you look lovely," said Bingley.

"Thank you, Mr. Bingley. It's so nice to be here."

"I imagine so, after your carriage ride. You must be quite tired. Shall I have you shown to your rooms?"

"Ah, Bingley," interjected Darcy, "We were just about to head over to Longbourn. Georgiana wishes to meet the Miss Bennet's."

"Excellent! I shall come with you."

"Quick, Darcy, let's go before Miss Bingley descends and attaches herself to your arm," Edward teased his cousin in a whisper. Darcy winced, and the four promptly left for Longbourn in Bingley's carriage.

At Longbourn, Jane, Elizabeth, and Lydia were in the sitting room. The two elder sisters were engaged in conversation, and Lydia had been trimming a bonnet, but she'd thrown it down in boredom and gone to the window. Perhaps when Kitty returned from visiting Aunt Phillips, she'd bring back some officers. Lydia was not expecting a carriage to pull up.

"Lizzy, Jane, come look. A carriage!" The two looked at their younger sister.

"Oh, Jane, it's Mr. Bingley!" laughed Lydia. "He's brought that horrid Mr. Darcy with him. Who's that? It's a woman, but it's not Miss Bingley. Oh, she's tall. Do we know anyone with red hair, Jane? Besides that little freckled girl staying with her uncle, I mean--there's an officer! Lord! He's not particularly handsome, but the red coat does improve his looks considerably."

"Lydia, come away from the window," hissed Lizzy. Lydia laughed.

"Are you worried they can hear me, Lizzy?" she said loudly.

"Lydia, do come sit," pleaded Jane. Lydia huffed and flung herself into a chair just as Hill opened the door.

"Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy, and Colonel Fitzwilliam," she announced.

Miss Darcy! Elizabeth appraised the young lady. She was rather tall, and quite well formed for a girl of seventeen. Bright red-orange hair was her most noticeable feature. It was very different from her brother's hair, so dark brown it was almost black, but the curls were the same. And, she noticed, they had the same eyes.

Darcy scanned the room. It was the one time he was disappointed not to see Wickham. He'd been under the impression that Wickham rarely strayed from Miss Elizabeth's side. So where could he have gone?

"Georgiana, this is Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and Miss Lydia Bennet. Ladies, my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy."

"Delighted," said Georgiana with warmth.

"Likewise, Miss Darcy," Elizabeth said with a smile that was immediately returned by the young lady.

"It's a fine day," Bingley said. "Should we perhaps walk towards Meryton?"

"Oh, let's," said Georgie. "I'd like to see it." Elizabeth, Jane, and Lydia assented, and went out to fetch their coats, and the group set out. Jane was immediately engaged in conversation with Mr. Bingley, and Lydia gravitated towards the Colonel. For all that she had called him not very handsome, the pull of a red coat was too strong. Edward smiled.

“I’m terribly sorry you think my cousin horrid, Miss Bennet, though I am glad that, if I’m not handsome enough to tempt you, my officer’s uniform can draw the eye of so charming a young lady,” he drawled. If Lydia had it in her to feel mortification, she would have blushed, but as it was she just laughed.

“You heard me at the window, then? I did not think you would, but what fun that you did!” Lydia exclaimed. Edward raised an eyebrow. He had expected her to blush and stammer. Any other woman would have. He was intrigued.

Georgiana started walking with her brother, leaving Elizabeth to her own reflections. Miss Darcy seemed like a lovely girl, but looks can often be deceiving. She seemed to love her brother very much, which was a point in favor of an affectionate nature, or indicative of sharing values and principles with Mr. Darcy. And she was not strong enough to fight for Wickham when her brother wished to separate them. Perhaps she’d let her brother make her forget how wonderful Mr. Wickham was, had let him poison her mind against her former lover—or worse, perhaps she still loved him, and wished to break apart Elizabeth and Wickham for her own purposes. Elizabeth would be careful, then, what she said to Miss Darcy, until it could be proved that she was not in league with her brother to bring some sort of misfortune to Elizabeth’s present suitor.

She’d just come to that conclusion when Miss Darcy herself joined her. Elizabeth looked back and saw Darcy’s eyes on the pair. His expression was not angry or disdainful, as it usually was when he was in the company of the Bennet’s. Rather, it was slightly worried, with a touch of sadness and pain.

“Miss Elizabeth,” started Miss Darcy, “I’ve heard so much about you from my brother that I’ve been quite anxious to meet you.” Elizabeth laughed a bit and looked over her shoulder at Darcy.

“None of it can have been good, then, I’m afraid. Mr. Darcy is my severest critic.”

“Oh, no! He was nothing if not complimentary. I understand you play and sing?”

“Only a little, and not very well.”

“My brother said you were wonderful,” Georgiana protested.

“I’m sure you mistook his meaning.”

“I couldn’t have. William always says exactly what he means.”

“I can’t believe that. No one can say what they mean all the time.”

“William does,” Georgiana stated.

“Do you, Miss Darcy?”

“I don’t pretend to have anything equal to William’s frankness, but I do try. Unless, of course, what I wish to say is improper, or could somehow give offense. I’m afraid William doesn’t always make the distinction between what of the truth should and should not be told,” Georgiana said. Elizabeth smiled. An excellent answer.

Meanwhile, behind Elizabeth and Georgiana, just out of earshot, Colonel Fitzwilliam was having much more fun than Lydia, though he didn’t show it directly.

“I can’t see how my liking officers makes me silly!” Lydia said indignantly. “You’re an officer yourself. Surely you find it flattering.”

“I do not,” Edward replied. “You like the red coat and the idea of the profession, the romance of it all. Wearing a uniform does not make any man better than his fellow men. It merely means he wears a uniform.”

“But it does make him quite dashing,” Lydia sighed. She frowned. “But just because I think that doesn’t mean I’m silly and nonsensical!”

“No, it doesn’t,” the Colonel allowed. Lydia smiled triumphantly, but he wasn’t finished. “It’s the way you act on that opinion that makes you a silly, foolish girl. Any head filled with nothing but officers is a terrible waste.” Lydia huffed. This man was most disagreeable! He dared talk down to her! Even his uniform couldn’t render him pleasant in her eyes.

“You’re not being very kind to me. Doesn’t etiquette demand that you treat me with respect?” Edward laughed delightedly.

“Finally, a somewhat sensible remark!” Lydia frowned again. “Given time, I wager I could get you to have entire conversations and say no more silly, ignorant things than most other girls. Shall we work on this together?”

“No, we—” Lydia began, but Edward cut her off.

“Say at the Netherfield Ball? Won’t you save the first two dances for me?”

“I will,” Lydia answered promptly. Then her eyes widened. She’d said yes? But she’d been counting on dancing the first two with Captain Carter! “Oh!” she cried before quickening her pace. She slowed again when she reached Elizabeth and Miss Darcy, but only for a moment.

“Ah, Miss Lydia, have you left my poor cousin to his own devices?” Georgiana asked.

“Yes, I have,” Lydia declared defiantly. “Horrid man! Why, Lizzy, do you know, he called me nonsensical, and then asked me to dance the first two dances with him at Netherfield!” Elizabeth stifled a laugh.

“What did you tell him, Liddy?” she asked.

“I can’t imagine why—but I told him yes!” Lydia cried before rushing ahead again. Elizabeth and Georgiana laughed.

“An officer my sister doesn’t like! I shall have to become better acquainted with your cousin, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth said.

“Then you certainly shall.” The two ladies looked over their shoulders at the Colonel. “Edward!” his cousin called. He raised his eyebrows in response. “Come here, please.” The Colonel lengthened his stride and caught up with the ladies.

“You wish to see me, cousin?”

“Miss Elizabeth would like to know you better,” Georgie declared.

“Any officer who can excite my younger sister’s dislike must be a remarkable man,” Elizabeth smiled.

“Yes, well, I wasn’t very kind to her, although I did only tell the truth.”

“And I like you all the more for it. She has the capacity for thought, but chooses instead to waste her days chasing after officers. It’s a great shame.”

“That’s exactly how I see it,” Edward said, his eyes landing on the topic of their conversation and not moving for some moments. Georgie laughed.

“Oh, dear,” she said. Elizabeth looked at her questioningly, but Georgiana shook her head and laughed again before saying something under her breath, too low for Elizabeth to hear.

“I knew this would be fun,” she murmured to herself.

“Where is Miss Elizabeth, Hill?” Wickham asked. He had returned from a ride with Denny, and he couldn’t find any of the Bennet sisters.

“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Lydia went on a walk with a party from Netherfield.”

“Netherfield?” Wickham asked sharply. “Who?”

“Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, of course, and then Mr. Darcy’s sister and cousin. An army colonel.” Wickham swore, and Hill started, then frowned.

“Which direction did they walk in?” Wickham demanded.

“Towards Meryton, I believe,” Hill replied. Wickham set off immediately. Hill watched him go, and turned back to her work. She did not approve of Mr. Wickham. He was all that was agreeable when in the company of the Bennet’s, but once they were gone, his manners lost their finesse, and he seemed much cruder. She did not look forward to the day he would be Master of Longbourn.

Wickham was walking quickly towards Meryton, hoping to overtake his cousins before the Darcy’s damaged his chances. That interfering twit! He’d brought his insipid sister to Netherfield expressly for the purpose of ruining everything. The Darcy siblings might have to be taken care of. If Darcy’s precious Georgiana broke her ankle and knew Wickham had orchestrated it, but was unable to prove it, he would surely whisk her back to Pemberley sooner than you could blink. He’d known, when Elizabeth had told him that Darcy had asked her to stay away from him, that Darcy knew, or at least suspected, what he was going to do. He’d seen it before, after all, two years ago at Pemberley. Darcy alone he could handle—Elizabeth didn’t trust him, so whatever he said would be taken as false. But Georgiana could ruin everything!

He looked up, and saw Bingley and Jane walking together. He plastered a smile onto his face, and slowed his pace to something that, while still quick, was more reasonable.

“Cousin Jane, hello!” he called pleasantly.

“Mr. Wickham, how nice to see you,” Jane greeted him. Bingley’s eyes tightened. “Are you looking for Lizzy?” Wickham nodded. “She’s up there, with Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

“Thank you,” Wickham said as he proceeded on. With Georgiana already! They got to work quickly. And the Colonel was a problem. Last time they’d spoken, it had ended with the proposition of a duel. A duel to which Wickham had never shown up. He’d been hoping to avoid ever seeing Colonel Fitzwilliam again, but it looked as if that wasn’t happening.

His steps brought him past Darcy, who he did not acknowledge. The wish to ignore was mutual—Darcy looked in the other direction as Wickham passed him, but then his eyes fell right onto him. Worry began to flow, and he felt the compulsion to protect Georgiana. It was a familiar feeling, but there was also, mixed in with it, the wish to protect Elizabeth. Though he’d acknowledged his love, he was still coming to terms with all that it meant, and the need to protect made him rather uncomfortable. He moved within earshot of the two ladies and his cousin just as Wickham came upon them.

“Good afternoon ladies, Colonel,” he greeted them. His smile looked real, but Edward detected a hint of steel in the eyes of the man he’d known so long, and he did not like it.

“Mr. Wickham, how pleasant,” smiled Elizabeth. She noticed Georgiana stiffen, and the Colonel’s eyes expressed a glare, although the rest of his face was schooled perfectly.

“Pleasant, indeed,” Edward said. “It’s been a long time.”

“Colonel,” Wickham said coolly. “And Miss Darcy,” he murmured, infusing something like sadness into his tone for the benefit of Elizabeth. Georgiana frowned at him.

“Mr. Wickham.” Her tone was severe, and dislike colored it heavily.

“It’s been far too long since I had the pleasure of your company, Miss Darcy. But how well do I remember the last time I saw you! As if it were only yesterday,” he said, looking her right in the eye and smirking, hoping to bring up memories of fear, and make her back down from him. But to his surprise, her expression turned defiant.

“Oh? What happened the last time we met? Do refresh my memory—I seem to have forgotten,” she challenged him. Wickham blinked twice, and didn’t know what to say. Georgie smiled. “Never mind, then. Miss Bennet,” she said, turning to Elizabeth, “I believe we were talking of music before we were interrupted.”

“We were, Miss Darcy.” Elizabeth was a bit puzzled. She had expected Miss Darcy to blush, or to be shy, but not to challenge him so. As if he had wronged her! By her bending to her brother’s will and letting herself be torn from the man she loved. Surely Miss Darcy still felt some remains of love lingering for Mr. Wickham.

The ladies passed quite a few minutes in conversation, comparing songs and composers. It was some time before Edward thought it safe to address Wickham without the ladies—or at least, Elizabeth—attending to what he said.

“Wickham,” said the Colonel, “I believe you, Darcy, and I have a few things to discuss.”

“Do we?” asked Wickham carelessly. He had no intention of being drawn into conversation with the two gentlemen.

“We do, sir. Unless you would care to make another date for that appointment of ours that you just happened to miss?” One couldn’t miss the threatening tone in his voice. Wickham swallowed. Best get this over with, then. And who knew but it could be fun? He and the Colonel turned and walked back to meet Darcy.

“At last, I have you alone. Miss Bennet—” Georgiana paused, thinking about how best to continue. “Mr. Wickham has told you that he and I were acquainted in the past, surely.”

“He has,” acknowledged Elizabeth. She was suddenly on edge. Would Miss Darcy tell her to be kind to her former lover, or would she warn her off someone she still hoped to have for herself? Elizabeth scarcely expected what came next.

“You like him very much, do you not.” It was not a question. Elizabeth nodded. “I did too, at one time…” she trailed off, remembering days of happy delusions, days before a most painful reality had intruded on her. “Miss Bennet. I feel it my duty to warn you—take care. Wickham is not at all what he seems. He gives the appearance of goodness, but his character does not have what his manners suggest. Miss Bennet, for your own safety, please, cut off your courtship. Mr. Wickham is a dangerous man.”

Elizabeth was indignant. “Miss Darcy,” she began coldly. “The least you could do is pay me the compliment of being sincere and frank with me. If you wish me to leave Mr. Wickham so you may pick up with him where your brother made you leave off, then say so openly.”

“No, Miss Bennet,” implored Georgiana. “I do not wish to reinstate that gentleman, if he could be called that, as my beau. Rather I wish to save you from the same fate I suffered.”

“A broken heart at the hands of your brother? Your excuses are weak, Miss Darcy. I have no overbearing older sibling who seeks to injure my happiness merely because of a childhood jealousy.”

“Miss Bennet!” Georgiana cried. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes wide, sincere. “I beg you! Listen to me. I have no wish to be anything to Mr. Wickham. I am in earnest. I would not marry Mr. Wickham were he the last man on the planet.” Elizabeth stopped and turned on the younger lady.

“Your lies would do your brother proud, Miss Darcy. I had thought Mr. Wickham would only love a sincere, lovely girl. Perhaps he did. But I can see that in the past two years, your brother has taken control of your mind.” She paused, and spotted a lane that she knew led to Lucas Lodge. “Pray, excuse me, Miss Darcy. I find that I wish to pay a call to Lucas Lodge.” She turned down the lane, and Miss Darcy made as if to follow her. Elizabeth turned back. “Do not follow me, madam,” she said, the flint in her eyes startling Miss Darcy. “And see to it that none of the rest of the party does.” Georgiana nodded.

“Your wish,” she said simply, curtsying to Elizabeth’s retreating back. “Oh, be safe, Miss Bennet. I fear for you,” she whispered before turning her steps forward again, gaining ground on Lydia.

“You listen to me, Wickham,” Darcy said threateningly. “There won’t be a repeat performance of two years ago.”

“I mean to marry my cousin Elizabeth,” said Wickham with a smirk. “And as far as I can tell, she wishes for the same result.” His smirk grew as Darcy’s eyes became stormy with—was that jealousy? Goodness, but this was interesting! Wickham laughed. “Who said anything about doing again what happened at Pemberley with dear Georgiana?”

“You will address my sister as Miss Darcy. She is too far above a slime like you for you to speak of her in such familiar terms.”

“Oh, but we are very…familiar.” Darcy trembled with anger, and for a moment it seemed as though he would hit Wickham. Edward laid a calming hand on his cousin's arm.

"He's not worth it, Darcy," Edward muttered. Darcy blinked, and regained control of himself. Wickham was smirking.

Darcy spoke again, his voice deadly quiet. “I know what you’re planning. You won’t get away with it this time. I heard it from your own lips, when you told your old friend Denny.”

Damnation! Darcy had heard that. He’d have to be more careful in the future. But still…

“Prove it,” hissed Wickham. He smiled congenially. “Furthermore, you wouldn’t want to expose me. I know some rather…dirty…secrets about your precious sister that you wouldn’t want people to hear. I’m afraid they’d ruin her chances of ever achieving a good marriage. And you wouldn’t want that, now would you, Darcy?”

Anger and helplessness closed in on Darcy’s mind. This threat again. He could do nothing in the face of it. He met Edward’s eyes. His cousin nodded. They both knew they had to avoid this threat being followed through on, but Wickham didn't need to know that.

“Listen to me, Wickham,” said the Colonel. “You will not harm Miss Elizabeth Bennet or there will be serious consequences for you.” Wickham laughed.

“So imposing, Colonel. I tremble with fear.” He looked forward at the ladies in time to see Elizabeth angrily cut down the side lane, leaving Georgiana behind. His mind became easy. Elizabeth would not believe what Miss Darcy said.

Darcy watched Elizabeth leave his sister with dismay. It seemed there was nothing he could do to stop Wickham, with the threat against his sister stopping Darcy from outing Wickham completely as a scoundrel. He closed his eyes.

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," Wickham said smugly. "I really must be returning to Longbourn."

Chapter Four

Posted on: 2009-01-27

"I'm sorry I haven't called very often lately, Charlotte," said Elizabeth.

"I understand, Eliza. Mr. Wickham is courting you. Of course you wish to spend time with him." Charlotte Lucas frowned a bit. She was unsure why, but there was something about Mr. Wickham that she did not like. He seemed to make her friend happy, but there was something in him that seemed very dishonest to Charlotte.

Elizabeth smiled, and it was almost a dreamy smile. "He is wonderful, Charlotte. It's like what Jane said of Mr. Bingley--he is just what a young man ought to be. Or at least, any young man who wishes to win me," she added with a laugh. Charlotte smiled. "I am so happy, Charlotte!" Elizabeth exclaimed. Then she frowned. "The only thing able to subdue my mood is that dreadful Mr. Darcy and his horrid, jealous sister."

"You seem to like their cousin well enough," Charlotte observed.

"He is pleasant. One must account for their having been brought up in different households, you know. He must be something out of the ordinary. An officer able to make Lydia dislike them! Judgment Day must be approaching," laughed Elizabeth.

"But Eliza, do consider carefully before you decide whether to believe Mr. Wickham's tale or that of the Darcy siblings," Charlotte urged.

"Consider!" Elizabeth cried. "You speak as if I should give weight to what Mr. and Miss Darcy say!"

"Is it really wise for you to dismiss the testimony of two upstanding members of society in favor of a young man who has no connections, no one to speak well of him? Mr. Wickham has only his manners to recommend him, Eliza, while the Darcy's have the approval of many. Including Mr. Bingley! Are you more ready to think him a fool than to consider that Mr. Wickham might no be giving you the whole truth?"

"I can more easily imagine Mr. Bingley being imposed upon than to think that Mr. Wickham could invent such a history," Elizabeth said frostily.

Charlotte sighed. "You know your cousin better than I do. But Eliza, take care."

"Don't worry about me, Charlotte. I'll do fine. I've never really thought about being a clergyman's wife before, but if Mr. Wickham were the clergyman, it would be very pleasant." Elizabeth smiled. Charlotte did not.

"Has he proposed?" she asked in shock.

"No." Elizabeth paused, then smiled again. "Not yet." Charlotte paused to measure her friend's expression. Eliza seemed sure that her cousin would propose someday. More than that, it really seemed to be what she wanted. And if he really made her happy, could he be so bad? If he was who she wanted, for all his faults…but there was the problem. Elizabeth couldn't acknowledge Wickham's faults! If she at least admitted he wasn't perfect, Charlotte would feel better. Though Charlotte herself could name no faults of his beyond that gut feeling she had, Eliza knew Mr. Wickham better than she did. People that close should be able to find some fault with each other.

"But you think he will," she finally said.

"Yes," said Elizabeth, mild surprise coloring her voice. "He is courting me."

"Of course." Charlotte looked away, back towards Lucas Lodge. Elizabeth frowned.

"Enough about me, enough about Mr. Wickham," she said. "What have you been doing these past weeks?" Charlotte smiled, grateful for the change of subject.

"Mama has decided I should have a new dress for the Netherfield ball, and we've been having it made," she said with a smile. Elizabeth laughed.

"If you could name one lady in Meryton who wasn't having a new gown made, Charlotte, I'd--well, I'd give you mine!"

They laughed together, and continued their conversation on more lighthearted topics than that of the Bennet's cousin. But both could feel his shadow, and their disagreement about his character, hanging over them.

Georgiana knocked on her brother's door. "It's me, William. May I come in?" The door was yanked open from the inside.

"Of course, Georgie." He smiled. "You know you don't need to ask."

Georgiana raised an eyebrow. "And if I were to walk in on you indecently clothed I suppose you'd say the same thing," she said skeptically. Darcy laughed a little. Georgiana sat in the chair in front of his fireplace and examined her brother. He'd taken off his cravat and jacket. Only his shirt was left on. He was staring pensively at the fireplace, but his foot was tapping--he was going to start pacing at any moment. His hair was sticking up a little wildly. He'd been running his hands through his hair, a thing he did when he was distressed. Georgiana smiled. She had been right when she decided to come see him. Something was bothering him.

"Won't you tell me what it is?" she asked quietly. Darcy jerked, as if coming out of a trance.

"What what is?"

"Whatever has got you looking like a caged animal."

"I beg your pardon, my dear, but Darcy's do not 'look like caged animals,'" he replied frostily.

"Oh, stop that," Georgiana snapped. "You sound like Aunt Catherine." Darcy grimaced, but he knew it was true. "Now. Are you going to tell me what's wrong like a good boy, or must I enlist Edward to help me?" Darcy rolled his eyes and flopped down on the chair facing his sister's.

"It's--well, it's Elizabeth. I can't…" His voice trailed off, and there was a lingering pause. "What do you think of her?" he asked suddenly.

"Miss Bennet? Oh, she's lovely. Her education has been lacking by society's standards, I think, but it's completely sufficient in my mind. She sings, plays, as you've told me. Her knowledge of music is not what society matrons expect, but she makes up for it in enthusiasm, I think. I find her very spirited, and loyal to those she loves. Other than that, I've not known her long enough to say."

"But you give a favorable opinion of her," her brother stated.

"Yes," Georgiana said, surprised by the flatness of his tone. "Wouldn't you?"

"Oh, yes, yes. I just can't help but wonder, Georgie." He sighed.

"Wonder what, William?"

His head jerked. "Nothing."

"William." Her tone was warning, with slight threat. "Don't make me fetch Edward. He'll parrot it out of you, and won't be as nice about it as I am."

"Nice!" Darcy muttered, just loud enough for Georgie to hear. "You're practically blackmailing me." Georgiana laughed, but fixed her brother with a stare so demanding that he sighed with exasperation and defeat. "Georgie, I know that if I succeed in saving Miss Elizabeth Bennet from Wickham, I'll want to marry her."

"Naturally. You love her."

"Yes, love." He paused. "Would I be wrong to marry her, do you think? Don't talk about love, just for a moment. If she weren't in danger from Wickham--damn and blast, Georgie, am I neglecting my duty to you, to Pemberley, our parents and the rest of our family, living and dead, by pursuing my attraction to a woman of such inferior birth and connections?"

"Inferior birth! William, listen to yourself!"

"I am, Georgie. I think perhaps I hear myself too clearly. What shall I do with myself if she doesn't marry Wickham? Perhaps she should. Then at least I would not be in danger of marrying the wrong woman in a moment of passion!"

"Fitzwilliam Darcy!" Georgiana cried. "Stop this! Your duty to your family," she spat sarcastically. "To me! Your duty to me is to be happy, William. I want you to be happy."

"Very well. What about Pemberley? Surely I cannot subject it to the criticisms of such a woman as Mrs. Bennet! Oh, you haven't met her, Georgiana. But you've met Lydia. Her mother is ten times worse. Imagine that, if you can. And I to let that vulgar woman, and her sister--and attorney's wife, for God's sake! Am I to let them loose on Pemberley? Not to mention their brother. In trade, my dear Georgiana. He and his wife live in Cheapside! How can I fulfill my duty to you with such a connection? We would be laughingstocks in society. No one would have you for a wife, and then where would you be?"

"Perfectly happy, living at Pemberley, the home I love, with my brother and the wife he adores."

"Oh, yes, dying an old maid, just what every woman dreams of," Darcy replied scathingly. Georgiana watched her brother with shock evident on her face. "For Elizabeth, the connection would be marvelous. Her mother would near have a stroke at the idea of getting her hands on my ten thousand a year, or very likely more. She moves up in the circles of society. But for me, the connection would be entirely reprehensible!"

"Listen to what you're saying! Are you really so arrogant to believe that Miss Bennet has nothing to offer you?"

"She has herself. Her wit, her beauty, her humor. Her mind is above most women--the only possible exception being you, my dear. Other than that, yes. Miss Elizabeth Bennet has nothing of a positive nature to offer in a marriage to myself. Her own position in society would drain on my own, and--"

"You are arrogant! Arrogant, blind William! Her position in society draining your own? That's a laugh, Darcy. You are a gentleman, or I had thought so before this conversation, and she is a gentleman's daughter. So far you are equal."

"But her mother! Her aunts and uncles!"

"Can be nothing to you. You do not marry them! You need not have them at your fancy dinner parties with your foppish fair-weather society friends, if you're so worried about your standing with them. But think, William. Think before you denounce a marriage that could make you happy on a spiritual and emotional level for such materialistic reasons. Love is not something to be treated lightly. It is not to be thrown away like worn out shoes. Treasure any love that is real and strong, as I think yours for Miss Bennet is. Treasure it, William, because it's the only thing that can help you through hard times. When all seems lost, you can look to that person and think, 'They make my world a little brighter,' and it will be easier to get by. Just knowing someone you love is there for you, believes in you, loves you too, well, that's enough to help a person through almost anything."

There was silence in Darcy's rooms for a long time when Georgiana finished her speech. She was watching her brother, and her face was a mask, but her eyes were incredulous. Darcy was looking into the fire, his expression unreadable. Finally she got up and left the room, leaving Darcy to his thoughts.

At dinner, Darcy didn't talk once, despite the best efforts of Miss Bingley. Instead of retiring to the billiards room with Bingley and Hurst afterwards, he pleaded fatigue and went up to his room. After dismissing his valet, Darcy sat again in his chair. Georgie's words replayed in his head over and over again. "But think, William." Yes, William, think. Think, think, think.

He fell asleep thinking about all his much-younger sister had given him to think about. And he dreamed. He dreamed of waking every morning to Elizabeth, his face buried in her dark, beautiful, curly hair. Of seeing her laughing green eyes across the table at every meal. Elizabeth and Georgiana playing a duet on the piano while he watched them. And when she glanced at him, the love that shone through her eyes amazed him. He dreamed of the hallways echoing with her laughter as she played with small children, one who had her curls and his nose, another her smile and his eyes. He saw her walking with him, getting lost on all the paths Pemberley offered, spending hours simply being together. He saw what their life could be together. He saw what happiness could be theirs. And he woke up with a smile on his face, knowing that what his heart was telling him was right, and that what his mind and his pride said, what high society had impressed upon him, was very, very wrong.

He was down at breakfast first, as was usual. Georgiana was the next person to come, and when she did, Darcy smiled at her.

"When did you get so wise, Georgie?"

Georgiana just smiled.

Posted on: 2009-02-21

The Thoughts of a Lady

In her room at Netherfield Park, Caroline Bingley paced. For some time now, Mr. Darcy had been very distracted, and though she didn't like it one bit, Caroline knew who to blame. It was that Bennet hussy, Elizabeth. Why was he so determined to admire her when she was clearly in love with someone he hated as much as George Wickham was beyond Caroline. She had to show him that she, Caroline Bingley, was the proper mistress for Pemberley. It was relatively simple. Darcy must not realize how close Miss Elizabeth was to an engagement to Mr. Wickham. If he did realize, he would understand the true shallowness and ugliness of Elizabeth's character. Well, nothing to worry about, then. Elizabeth Bennet would soon be engaged to Wickham, and then Darcy would realize how unworthy that harlot was to be mistress of Pemberley. His silly infatuation would blow over, and Caroline would be right there when he began looking around for someone else. Or, if that didn't happen, she had a few emergency plans that wouldn't fail her. Caroline would be mistress of Pemberley, if it took everything she had to get herself there.

Chapter Five

"Lizzy, girl, are you still abed? Come, get up! Tonight is the Netherfield ball and heaven knows you'll need all day to prepare! Get up, get up, and come down to breakfast!" Mrs. Bennet bustled out of Elizabeth's room just as Jane made her way serenely down the hall toward it. Elizabeth sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Jane stood in her doorway.

"Tell me Mama isn't rushing us to prepare for the ball already," Elizabeth begged her sister.

"I'm afraid she is," Jane said. Elizabeth groaned, and turned to bury her face in her pillows. Jane laughed. "Jane, if it weren't your Mr. Bingley hosting this ball…"

"He is not my Mr. Bingley," Jane said, blushing. Elizabeth opened her mouth to tease her sister, but Jane spoke faster. "Besides, you know very well that you love a good ball."

"At risk of sounding like Lydia, I have to say you're right, dearest Jane. And I don't think I've ever had a more agreeable partner for the first two dances." Elizabeth smiled.

"There I must agree with you."

"You think Mr. Wickham would be the most agreeable partner, then, Jane? You surprise me. I was sure your heart lay in a different direction," Lizzy teased.

Jane blushed again. "That's not what I mean, Lizzy."

"What do you mean, then?"

"You know, Lizzy!"

"I do not." Elizabeth paused when her sister gave her an incredulous look. "Alright, I do," she confessed. "But I am determined to hear you say it! I shall not rest until you do."

"I believe it," Jane said with a smile. "Alright, then, Lizzy. I think Mr. Bingley the most agreeable man I've ever met. Are you satisfied?"

"More than," Elizabeth said. "I only insisted that you say he was an agreeable partner for the fist two dances, and here you've told me even more."

Jane blushed, as if she had not realized what she'd said. "Oh, Lizzy, don't tease me, I beg you. I…" Jane paused. "I do think I feel more for Mr. Bingley than I have ever felt for a man, but it's still too early to tell what he feels, or even if…only please don't tease me, Lizzy!"

"I shall do my best," Elizabeth said. She was both surprised and pleased that her sister had admitted so much about her feelings for Mr. Bingley. Jane tended to be a bit cautious where her heart was concerned. "But I can't promise complete absence of teasing, dearest. It goes against my nature," she said impishly. Jane smiled again.

"I suppose that's true. Alright, then, a little teasing, because I wouldn't have my Lizzy any other way than she is, but no more than strictly necessary!"

"Why, Jane," Elizabeth said with a smile, "I do believe you're teasing me now!" The sisters looked at each other for a moment, then laughed.

"Jane! Lizzy! Come down!"

A carriage pulled up outside Netherfield Hall. Bingley chanced to be looking out the window of the library, and he saw it roll in.

Whoever could that be? Bingley wondered to himself.

"What can that be, Bingley?" asked Darcy from the doorway, echoing his friend's thoughts. Bingley turned around to face him.

"A carriage just arrived out front. Come look." He gestured his friend to the window.

As Darcy looked out, he groaned. "It's Aunt Catherine," he said.

"No," Bingley said, stunned. "It couldn't be."

"I'm afraid it is. I'd know that crest anywhere."

"But--but--she did not tell you she was coming?" Bingley asked his friend. Darcy shook his head.

The two men watched as Lady Catherine de Bourgh was handed out of the carriage, followed by her daughter, Anne. To Darcy's surprise, a young man alighted after Anne. He frowned in thought for a moment, and then his expression cleared.

"Let's go greet your guests, Bingley." They left the library and walked down the hall.

"Darcy!" Lady Catherine said imperiously as she entered Netherfield. "I expected you to be out front to greet us. What is the meaning of this?"

"I would have been, Aunt, had I been aware of your arrival."

"Of course you knew of our coming. I told Philip to write you a letter informing you." Lady Catherine paused, as realization dawned. She turned toward her son. "Philip…"

"Now, don't look at me like that, Mama. I know I wrote a long letter, all about it!"

"A letter that is, perhaps, still sitting on your desk?" Darcy suggested, his mouth turning up slightly.

"Dash it, you must be right, Darce! My apologies. And to you, Bingley." The mention of Bingley brought Darcy back to himself, and he proceeded with the necessary introductions.

"Ah, of course. Aunt Catherine, Anne, may I present my good friend Charles Bingley. Charles, this is my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and the younger of her children, Miss Anne de Bourgh."

"I am delighted to make the acquaintance of any relations of Darcy's," Bingley said with an affable smile.

"And you know Philip, of course," Darcy continued.

"Of course. Good to see you again. It's been, what, two years?"

"An unfortunately long amount of time, my friend," Philip agreed. "I'm afraid I've been busy. Mama decided that, as heir to Rosings, I'd best start learning how to run it. My time these past years has been spent at that daunting task."

Lady Catherine sniffed. "It would not be so daunting if you would apply yourself, Philip. I have advised you many times to give up your hours spent reading--novels, too! Such horrid things--and keeping up pointless correspondence with friends beneath your notice, but you will not heed me. Hmph!"

It was fortunate for Philip that his mother didn't see him roll his eyes.

"Ahem," a quiet voice said. Eyes turned towards Anne. They had almost forgotten she was there as well. "I'm quite fatigued. Would it be possible for me to be shown to my room so I may rest before the ball?"

"Of course, Miss de Bourgh. Forgive my rudeness. I'll have Mrs. Stowe show you to your rooms immediately," Bingley said. Lady Catherine sniffed again. Anne smiled tentatively.

Philip smiled widely. "Not me, Bings," he said. "I insist on being shown your estate."

"So that you can make comparisons to Rosings? No thank you," Bingley said with a smile.

"Come now, you know me better than that. I shall refrain from being rude for the sake of an old friend," Philip insisted.

Bingley laughed. "You most certainly will not. All right, then. Darcy, you'll come too?" Darcy nodded his assent. "Shall we conduct a tour on horseback before going to the house?" Bingley suggested.

"Fine idea, Bings," Philip said, clapping his friend on the back.

The men went on their ride, and Philip was impressed with the state of order on Bingley's estate. It wasn't large, but it seemed well looked after, and it would do quite well for a man of Bingley's wealth and temperament. Darcy decided to head back a few minutes before his cousin and friend, so he turned back, and after stabling his horse, her headed for the house.

The moment he entered, Georgiana descended the stairs. She practically ran to her brother's side, and gripped his arm.

"William," she hissed. "How could you do that to me?"

"Do what?" Darcy was startled, and not a little afraid. What could he have done to upset Georgie so?

"Let that…that…banshee descend on me like that? Without a warning!"

Oh, of course. "You shouldn't refer to your aunt in such terms, Georgie," Darcy said sternly, but a glare from his sister silenced any lectures on respect for her elders. He paused, and then started again. "I'm sorry. It didn't occur to me to inform you. I just thought you'd…know," he finished lamely.

Georgiana retained her anger for a moment, but then couldn't suppress laughter. "That," she said, "is the worst excuse I've ever heard." Darcy smiled sheepishly.

"Show me this library of yours, Bings," they heard Philip say from the steps. It can't be as bad as Darcy says."

"Indeed it is," Darcy said drily as the other two gentlemen entered the house.

"Philip!" Georgiana cried at the same moment. She rushed over to give her cousin a hug. "Why didn't your mother tell me you were here?"

"Possibly because she wishes he were anywhere but," Darcy observed with a wry smile.

"Well, I'm glad you are come," said Georgie. "Things are always much more fun with you around!"

"Yes, the ball does promise to be most amusing in light of our newest addition," Darcy said.

"Come then, Miss Georgie," Philip said, taking her arm. "Will you show me to the library? I've heard such conflicting rumors about it, and as mistress of this house, you ought to be the one to put them to rest. Show me!"

Georgie laughed. "I'm not the mistress of the house, Philip, as you well know." His face became a mask of false surprise, which made Georgiana laugh again. "That would be Miss Bingley."

"Ah, of course! The ever-lovely sister of Bings. Hmm. Shall I affront her vanity and outrage her sense of propriety when I meet her by calling her Miss Bings?" Georgie reached up and cuffed him on the head.

"Be nice, Philip," she admonished.

"Are my ears deceiving me, or is little Georgie berating me? Keep in mind, young lady, that you are six years my junior."

"And infinitely more mature," Georgie retorted.

"True, true," Philip admitted with a grin. He held Georgiana's eyes for a moment before turning to address the two men. "Well then! Is someone going to find Miss Bings and introduce me to the lady of this house, my esteemed hostess? Or do I have to begin the manhunt--ladyhunt, rather--myself?"

"I'd not suggest calling her 'Miss Bings' to her face, Philip," Darcy said, trying hard to hide his laughter.

"Whyever not? Her brother is Mr. Bings, after all," Philip said. Darcy smirked.

Bingley sighed. "I'll fetch Caroline, then, if you're so anxious to meet her."

"Oh, don't trouble yourself," Philip said lazily. "I'm sure we'll come across her in my tour of the house."

"Which we've not much time for, by the way," Georgie interrupted.

"Why not?" Philip asked with a slight frown.

"Because there's to be a ball here this evening, in case you'd forgotten, and we were in the midst of preparing for it. Not to mention that you've just finished a trip of good length, and need to change out of your travel clothes. Unless you were planning on making your debut into Hertfordshire society tired and worn-out, wearing dirty, wrinkled travel clothes?"

Philip affected the look of a dandy, and pretended to be horrified. "Oh, my, yes! However could I be so foolish? I must immediately retire to my chamber with an army of valets! It will take me hours to change from dirty travel clothes into a nicer outfit." Here he dropped the act, and said in his normal voice, "It takes men far less time to prepare for balls than it does women, Georgie."

"True," she said. "But there's not so much time as you think, and I'm sure you'd like to take a bath. Not to mention, Mr. Bingley has to help his sister with a few last minute preparations."

"You're right," mumbled Bingley. "I'd forgotten." With a sigh he turned towards the parlor, where he was sure he'd find Caroline. "I'd best remind her of her duties, and get on with mine."

"Sensible sister you've got there, Darce," Philip said, eyeing Georgie appraisingly. "Not at all the slip of a girl I remember."

"Well, you'd know I was different if you bothered to visit more often," Georgie said, raising an eyebrow.

Philip smiled, delighted. "My humblest apologies, most esteemed Miss Darcy." He paused, and turned aside to Darcy. "I shall now proceed to apologize obsequiously for a quarter of an hour, at least."

"You most certainly will not, Philip," Georgiana said, trying to sound disapproving, but ending up laughing.

Philip bowed. "As you wish, Cousin. And now, if you'll excuse me, my dears, I'll find my room and prepare for Bings' grand ball."

Philip turned, and climbed up the stairs two a time, faintly hearing Darcy's incredulous, "My dears?" Philip just reached the top of the stairs when a door opened and Philip crashed into someone.

"Excuse me, I'm terribly sorry--" was all the person got out before Philip recognized his voice.

"Edward! Dash it, I didn't know you were here!"

"Nor was I aware that you had arrived," the Colonel replied. "Am I to assume your mother and sister are here as well?"

"You can assume, or I can tell you. Which do you prefer?"

"Come off it, Philip. Just tell me."

"We all arrived, oh…" He thought for a moment. "Perhaps an hour ago. I wonder that you didn't hear our arrival. Daydreaming of pretty women, then, were we?"

"I fell asleep reading a book Darcy suggested," Edward admitted. Philip laughed.

"Shame, shame!" Philip teased. Edward rolled his eyes. "Tell me then, Eddie, can you help me find my room? I've been ordered there by Georgie to prepare for the ball tonight."

"Ah, Georgie. She can be very…" Edward searched for the right word.

"Impertinent? Insistent, with a slightly irritating habit of being right? Or were we looking for a different type of word altogether? Perhaps you were thinking of beauteous, or lovely, or--"

"Philip?" Edward interrupted.

"Yes, Eddie?"

"Shut up."

"Colonel Eddie Fitzwilliam, I am shocked," Philip said with mock gravity.

"And don't call me Eddie."

"You ask that every time I see you, Eddie. It's futile. Give up," Philip advised.

"I just thought I'd try one last time," Edward said with a sigh. "Now. You needed to find your room?"

"Yes, of course. I've been sent by our cousin Georgiana whom we cannot find an adjective on a quest to--"

"This way, then," Edward said, cutting Philip off before he could get into another pointless, yet amusing, speech.

And the two cousins moved on to find Philip's rooms.

Meanwhile, Georgiana had reached her own room, and was looking at the dress her maid had laid out on the bed.

"Well, Mary," she said to the woman who had taken care of her since her mother had died, "this evening is turning out to be more interesting than I had thought it would be."

"Indeed, Miss Georgie?" Mary said tolerantly. She knew nearly all of Georgiana's plans, and delighted in the ideas that her little Georgie was growing up into such a self-assured and charming young woman.

"Philip makes everything more interesting," Georgie said. Then she sighed. "If only there was a way to take care of Mr. Wickham, and make Miss Bennet see how wonderful my brother really is…" Mary smiled as she brushed Georgiana's hair. "But there's really nothing I can do but wait, and hope."

"Mr. Wickham will expose himself with time," Mary said. "You've painted Miss Bennet as an intelligent young lady, so surely she'll figure it out eventually."

"Yes, I'm sure she shall. I only worry that by the time she does, it will be too late, and Mr. Wickham will already have done to her what he did to me…Or worse, that he'll have married her…"

As the Bennet's approached Netherfield, Wickham took Elizabeth's arm and whispered, "You look lovely, Elizabeth. Absolutely lovely." She smiled up at him, and he returned the smile for a moment before turning away, to the building they were walking towards.

Through a window on the first floor, Wickham saw Darcy, and he smiled again, but it was a very different smile than the one he had given Elizabeth. It was cold, unfeeling, and triumphant. Wickham had Elizabeth right where he wanted her, and his plan would work.

He spotted his friend Denny climbing the steps to Netherfield, and he smirked inwardly. This was it, he thought. There was nothing to stop him, and he had no reason to wait any longer.

He would do it tonight.

Chapter Six

Posted on: 2009-03-15

He saw her approach him, and he knew what that smile meant. With a small groan, he turned and walked in the opposite direction, but when he threw a glance over his shoulder, she was following him. Not watching where he was going, he didn't realize that he had walked right up to the wall until he hit it full on. She was right behind him, approaching fast. He swallowed. She had him cornered, and they both knew it. There was nothing to do but listen to her.

With a sigh, Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to face Georgiana.

She laughed at his tortured expression. "I see you've not forgotten our job, Edward." When his face looked even more pained, she reached up and patted him on the cheek. "Don't worry. All you have to do is convince William to ask her to dance."

"Which will be nearly impossible," Edward grumbled. "You know how he is."

"Yes, I do," agreed Georgie. "But you promised, Edward."

"So I did. But I don't see how this will advance your cause."

"Our cause," Georgiana corrected with a smile. "It may not. I admit that. Miss Elizabeth is determined to believe Mr. Wickham's lies. There's nothing I could do or say that she would believe. But perhaps, if she dances with William, she will see…"

"It's a foolish hope," Edward said softly.

"Oh, I know that. I know it's extremely unlikely. But there's always a slight chance it will work." Georgie smiled. "Besides, we're trying to save her now. Who knows how much longer Wickham will wait before he--" She couldn't finish.

"You are a very brave lady, Georgie."

"Yes. I know." She took a deep breath. "Well, let's get on with it."

Edward sighed in agreement. Then his attention was caught by the arrival of the Bennets--in particular, Miss Lydia. Georgiana followed his gaze.

"Ah, they Bennets are here. Shall we go greet them?"

"Let's." He held out his arm to his young cousin, and the two of them made their way towards the family.

"La! Kitty, there's Captain Carter!" Lydia said.

"And Saunderson!" replied her sister. "Which do you think will ask to dance with us first?"

"I daresay Carter will ask me first."

"Why do you say that? I should have thought he'd ask me first," said Kitty.

Lydia laughed. "Whyever should he do that?" she asked, careless of her sister's feelings. "I'm his favorite. He told me so only two days ago, in Meryton. Yes, I think he'll ask me for the first dance."

"But you'll be unable to give it, Miss Lydia. Or had you forgotten your promise to me?" a voice said from behind them. Kitty and Lydia turned, and Lydia scowled when she saw Colonel Fitzwilliam, with Miss Darcy on his arm.

"I had quite forgotten it," she replied.

"No doubt wishing that I would, too, eh?" said the Colonel as the aforementioned Captain Carter approached.

Lydia turned to him immediately. "I know you were wanting to dance the first two with me, Captain, but this horrid old Colonel has a prior claim on me." She gave the Captain a winsome smile. "So you may dance with Kitty now, but save a few for me later!"

Captain Carter looked astonished and amused at this rather forward speech. "Miss Catherine," he said, bowing to Kitty with a pretty flourish, "I would be honored if you would give me your hand for the first two dances." Kitty giggled and nodded, winking at Lydia as she took the arm of Captain Carter.

Lydia turned to the Colonel and opened her mouth, but Georgiana beat her to speaking.

"You are looking quite well, Miss Bennet. Is that a new dress? It becomes you very well," Georgie said.

"To be sure, it is." She looked at Georgiana for a moment. "But I don't know that I'll trust your compliment, Miss Darcy. My sister Lizzy warned me that you're not to be trusted." Georgiana paled, and the Colonel's grey eyes turned dark with anger, but Lydia, being Lydia, didn't notice, and continued. "She said you have a history"--here she giggled--"with our cousin Mr. Wickham, and would do anything to sabotage his future happiness with Liz--" Her speech was cut off when the Colonel abruptly dropped Georgiana's arm and locked his fingers around Lydia's wrist. "What--" she began to protest as he dragged her away from Miss Darcy.

"Now would be a very good time to continue our lesson in good manners, I think," Edward hissed, coming to a stop in a corner of the ballroom and jerking around to face Lydia. She had not seen his expression before, or not noticed it, but now his face was looming right in front of hers, and it was impossible for anyone, even someone as clueless as Lydia, to miss the fury. There was such a furious rage in the twist of his mouth and the spark in his eyes that it frightened Lydia for a moment, before she returned to herself.

"La! I don't care what you or Miss Darcy thinks," she said carelessly.

"You may not care what we think, but I can't allow you to insult my cousin, to accuse her so falsely, and to remind her of events she and all her family would much rather stay in the past."

"I didn't accuse her of anything!" Lydia protested. "You're distorting my words."

"No, you're distorting their meanings after they've been said. Or did you not just indirectly accuse my cousin of plotting against your sister and your cousin?" He spat the last word out, made it sound like a curse.

"I--well, that is…" Lydia paused, and reran the conversation in her head for a moment. Then she laughed. "So I did!" She looked at him challengingly. "What of it?"

"What of it?" the Colonel hissed. "Miss Lydia, you may see yourself as a cosmopolitan woman, flirting with all the officers, but you have very much to learn about people."

"And I suppose you think you're the one to teach me?" Lydia asked.

"If no one else will, God help me, I shall have to." The music paused, then changed, indicating that the first dance was about to begin. "We'll continue this discussion during the dance."

He reached out as if to grip her arm again, but seemed to think better of it, and instead gestured for her to walk on to where the other couples were congregating. Lydia marched ahead of him, her nose in the air. Edward watched her for a moment, and he felt his anger fade a little as he chuckled.

"She'd give Lady Catherine a run for her money in the stubborn department, I think," he said to himself before following her.

"You didn't have to dance the first with me, Fitzwilliam," Anne said quietly to her cousin. "I would have been more than happy to not dance tonight--I've been feeling worse lately. And Mother will take this as a sign of your undying devotion to me, you know." Darcy smiled down at her.

"Let her think that. Philip can disabuse her of the notion next time she mentions it by telling her of some wild affair of mine with a completely improper lady."

"Have you any wild affairs?" Anne inquired.

"No, no, anything your brother would tell Lady Catherine would be entirely from his own imagination," Darcy said with a smile. "You know Philip. Always at his tricks and jokes."

"Yes, always," agreed Anne. Something in her tone made Darcy glance at her.

"Has he bothered you with them?" Darcy asked, concerned. "I know Philip means well, but he does tend to get carried away and cross the line. If he's been making you the butt of too many jokes, Edward or I will happily talk to him for you."

"Oh, no!" Anne protested. "Philip is a fine brother. His joking is a good change from Mother's…hovering."

Darcy snorted. "Smothering, more like." Anne smiled wryly.

Just then, a turn in the dance put Elizabeth and Wickham in his line of sight. His breath caught. Wickham glanced up, and his eyes locked with Darcy's. Darcy watched as a slow smile spread across his old enemy's face. He turned his gaze helplessly to Miss Elizabeth, willing her to look up and somehow understand in his eyes what she had refused to hear in his words. But then Wickham too turned his eyes on Elizabeth, and his smile transformed into a sweet, sincere one. Elizabeth smiled back, so innocent, so naïve…

"Fitzwilliam?" Anne's gentle voice recalled his attention.

"I'm sorry, Anne. What were you saying?"

"I was asking who Philip is dancing with."

Darcy scanned the line of couples for his cousin, and spotted him perhaps six couples from himself and Anne.

"That's Miss Lucas," Darcy said.

"He seems to like her very much," Anne observed.

"Does he?" Darcy looked more closely at his cousin and Miss Lucas. "I see no more partiality towards her than for any other lady."

"Do you not? Perhaps I am mistaken. But does Philip not look very happy?"

"Philip always looks happy, Anne," Darcy pointed out. He was surprised when she didn't respond immediately, and he looked down at her. "Anne? Is anything the matter?"

"He does not always look happy in my presence," she said in a small voice. Compassion filled Darcy.

"Oh, Anne, that is not your fault."

"Is it not? You just said yourself that Philip always looks happy, but I have seen him looking anything but--looking almost pained--when he's in my presence."

"And you are always in company with your mother, yes? Being with Aunt Catherine is more than enough to dampen anyone's spirits, is it not?"

"You should not speak so of my mother," Anne reprimanded. But Darcy could see the hurt and worry in her face beginning to lessen, and he smiled to himself.

"No, I do not see why I shouldn't have said that. If your cousin can contrive to keep my sister from happiness, why can't I say what I please to her?" Lydia demanded. Her attempt at logic was faulty, but she refused to see that.

Edward sighed. "Because, Lydia, Georgiana has not been attempting to make your sister unhappy. I've told you that already."

"But you won't tell me anything more, which means you're making that up. See? I have you cornered." Now, she was sure, he wouldn't want to dance with her anymore.

"Miss Bennet, did it occur to you that I cannot give you the circumstances because honor forbid me? That I have given my word to someone that I will not reveal the circumstances which would satisfy your curiosity?"

Lydia blinked. "Well…no."

"See, then? That would explain it perfectly. And it so happens that that is the case."

"Oh! You are so terribly vexing! Why must you talk circles around me each time we meet?"

"Because you, my dear Miss Bennet, are a silly, ignorant young girl."

"You--!" Lydia's face turned red, and she glared up at the Colonel. He laughed. This topic was much more fun.

The dance ended. Darcy bowed to Anne, and was about to take her arm when Lady Catherine approached.

"I can't imagine why you insisted on dancing, Anne. You've quite worn yourself out now. Come sit," she commanded. "Darcy, you must come, too."

"No, Aunt, I prefer to remain standing," Darcy deflected. Lady Catherine sniffed, and took her daughter's arm.

With a faintly annoyed look to for leaving her to the mercy of her mother, Anne separated from her cousin. Darcy smiled amusedly. He and Anne would never be the lovers Lady Catherine wished, but he liked her well enough to wish that her mother would let her out from under her thumb.

His smile disappeared when Miss Bingley approached.

"Your poor cousin looks very frail, Mr. Darcy. That color dress is not at all becoming. It makes her look rather sallow, don't you think?" Caroline looked smugly down at her own attire, which she considered very elegant. The stiff gold silk was of such a hue so that it looked vaguely green-ish. She thought it became her very well.

She would have been dismayed to know that Darcy had not even noticed her apparel (men often don't). Moreover, if he had noticed, it would have been to think that the color of Caroline's gown was an almost sickly green--not a particularly nice color. Not only that, but he was disgusted with her comments on his cousin's appearance.

"Anne looks lovely this evening," Darcy said shortly. Caroline wanted to roll her eyes, but she refrained.

"I suppose," she said in a non-committal tone. She was searching for something else to say when Colonel Fitzwilliam approached. He was now alone--Lydia had abandoned him for two other officers. His smile was pleasant, but determined. It was time to perform the task Georgiana had set him.

"Hello, Darcy," he greeted his cousin.

"Edward." His voice was strained. It wasn't hard to guess why--Edward glanced at Miss Bingley, and the simpering expression on her face.

"Miss Bingley, I believe your sister was looking for you," he said.

"Louisa can wait."

"She seemed to think it was a matter of some urgency," Edward hinted.

Caroline sighed, exasperated. "Where was she?"

"Somewhere over there," Edward said, pointing to a far corner of the room. Caroline sent one last smile at Darcy before she went off to find her sister.

Darcy let out a long breath. "Thanks, Edward."

"Anytime." He watched as Darcy's gaze swung across the room and rested on Elizabeth Bennet. Edward sighed. Here was the perfect opportunity. "Darcy."

"Hmm?"

"Just ask her to dance."

Darcy started. "I beg your pardon? Are you suggesting I ask Miss Bingley to dance?"

Edward laughed. "Not her. Heaven help you if you did. No, Darcy, Miss Bennet. I know you want to dance with her--You've been watching her all night. Put yourself out of your misery."

"She would refuse me."

"Probably," Edward agreed with a shrug. Darcy glared at him. "But then again, perhaps she wouldn't." Edward smiled at Darcy before leaving him to his thoughts.

Darcy watched Elizabeth from across the room. She was a vision tonight. Her beauty was not the greatest he'd ever encountered, but there was something about the light in her eyes, tonight especially, that made her seem all the more lovely. He watched her as she stood in conversation with Wickham. When Wickham left them momentarily, presumably to get some sort of refreshment, Darcy saw his chance. He approached.

"Miss Bennet," he said when he reached her. "Would you do me the honor of dancing the next with me?"

She turned to him, a false smile playing on her lips. "Why, Mr. Darcy! I thank you for your kind offer, but I'm afraid I must refuse," she said sweetly.

Darcy was a touch amused by her reply. It seemed to be everything that was polite and proper, but her lack of reason for her refusal hinted at less civil sentiments--that she simply did not want to dance with him. "And why is that?" he asked, forcing her to elaborate.

The corners of Elizabeth's mouth quirked. So he had caught her intended insult. Elizabeth may have detested the man, but she knew a worthy opponent when she met one. "I do not think I need to acknowledge them to you, sir. A lady's reasons may be private." Now challenge that, if you dare!

"But this matter concerns me closely, my dear Miss Bennet," Darcy replied. There was a slight smile playing on his face. Darcy was thoroughly enjoying himself. Here, for the first time since Wickham had arrived, was the woman he'd fallen in love with--challenging, playful, intelligent, beautiful.

"Really, now? Do explain, sir." Elizabeth was aware at this point that she had lost, and would have to acknowledge her previous engagement with Captain Denny, but she didn't wish to give in quite yet. Not so easily.

"With pleasure," Darcy agreed. "You see, I have asked you to dance the next with me. You have refused."

"This much I was aware of," Elizabeth inserted drily.

Darcy's faint smile grew a little bit. "I'm simply giving context, Miss Bennet," he defended himself.

"I see. Pray, continue."

"Of course. Well, since I've asked, and you've refused, I am connected to you in the matter of the next dance. I wished to dance with you, and you have told me that is not to be, thereby dashing my hopes and dreams for a pleasant evening." He was delighted when Elizabeth let out a small chuckle. "I think that, since you've taken that much from me, you at least owe me an explanation. Would you not agree?" Darcy finished with a charming smile.

Elizabeth laughed fully now. "Very well. You win. I will not dance the next with you, sir, because I have already agreed to dance it with Captain Denny."

That name crushed the pleasure of the moment for Darcy, and brought reality back in. Denny was privy to Wickham's scheme. Darcy suppressed a shudder. "Captain Denny is no gentleman," he said coldly. "You'd be better off breaking your promise to him and dancing with me." All the warmth and good humor was gone from his countenance. No hint of a smile remained.

Elizabeth was surprised for a moment at his change in expression, but that was far surpassed by her shock when she remembered whom she had been talking to. Mr. Darcy! And she had enjoyed it!

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy," she said, the ice in her tone matching his. "But manners prohibit me from doing such a thing. Indeed, even if I could, I would not. Captain Denny is far more of a gentleman that you."

Darcy arched an eyebrow. "Is that what you think?"

"It is what I know," Elizabeth hissed. "Anyone who could ruin the life of someone so deserving as Mr. Wickham is no better than--"

"So we are back to this," Darcy said with a sigh. "I believe you've made your opinions on this subject abundantly clear at previous occasions, Miss Bennet. I do not feel the need to subject myself to your recital of them again. I wish you a good evening." With a short bow, he turned and retreated.

Darcy was internally kicking himself for turning cold on her. The conversation had been going so well! He wished to ask himself where it had gone wrong, but he knew exactly where that had happened--and he knew on whose shoulders the blame lay. Any good effects the beginning of their conversation might have had on Miss Bennet's opinion of him would have been completely undone with his remarks at the end. Were they never to part on good terms?

For her part, Elizabeth could not fathom that the man who had been bantering pleasantly with her was the proud, haughty, cruel Mr. Darcy.

He must have been trying to throw her off. It was a plot, that's what it was. Darcy had been trying to convince her that he wasn't so bad, and by doing so, make her believe his stories about her Mr. Wickham. Separate them. Ruin Wickham's life again. Yes, that was it, Elizabeth told herself.

But in the back of her mind, a niggling doubt lay. Just a seed. It hadn't even taken root yet, and Elizabeth was doing everything she could to see that it didn't. She was very skilled at lying to herself. But all the same, the seed was there.

Regardless of any seeds, Elizabeth went in search of her cousin. She spotted him across the room, in conversation with an officer she didn't recognize. To her relief, he showed no signs of having seen her conversation with Darcy.

She approached him. "Mr. Wickham," she said with a smile. "You seem to have forgotten me." He looked up from his conversation.

"My dear cousin!" he said with a gallant half-bow. "I could never. I simply got waylaid by a new acquaintance. You are familiar with Lieutenant Saunderson, are you not?"

"We are a little acquainted, yes," the Lieutenant said. "Miss Bennet." He bowed in her direction.

"Lieutenant," returned Elizabeth. "You will not mind if I take my cousin back?"

"Not at all, madam." Saunderson bowed, and moved away, leaving Elizabeth and Wickham alone again.

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry I didn't return," Wickham said. "But I have your punch." He held his hand out in a peace offering.

Elizabeth laughed. "I didn't mind. Only don't do it again," she commanded playfully as she took the punch. "Now! What were we speaking of before I had a sudden burst of thirst?"

"I believe I was saying that, much as I love The Taming of the Shrew, my favorite Shakespeare play is Romeo and Juliet," Wickham said with a smile.

"Oh, I could never stand that play!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "Romeo is a fickle idiot, and that Juliet is not much better. It seems to me that if they'd just talked, rather than entrusting all their planning to others and leaving too much to chance, they could have avoided dying and lived happily ever after. If, indeed, there is such a thing."

"Of course there is," Wickham said softly. "Do you not believe in it? Do you not believe that it's waiting for you and me?" He started, as if suddenly realizing that he'd spoken aloud, and he paused. Then he said, all in a rush, "Miss Elizabeth--cousin--Lizzy--" He paused, seemingly flustered, then started again. "Will you take a walk in the garden with me? I could use some fresh air."

"Of course, Mr. Wickham." She took the arm he offered her, and the two of them slipped as unobtrusively as possible out of the garden. But before they did, Wickham caught the eye of Denny and nodded.

They left the building and wandered silently in the garden for a few minutes before they came to a bench.

"Won't you sit, Miss Elizabeth?" Wickham seemed more collected now, but still not completely unflustered.

He is going to propose! Elizabeth's mind cried.

Elizabeth sat, and Wickham sat next to her. He reached a hand to her face and tucked stray curl gently behind her ear, almost stroking her cheek as he did.

"Lizzy," he murmured. She looked up at him expectantly, happily. I've got her, he thought. "Lizzy," he murmured again, before leaning in to kiss her.

She stiffened in surprise, but soon relaxed. This was nice. Yes, it was rather pleasant. She let it go on a little while longer, but then her sense of propriety kicked in, and she tried to pull away.

"George," she said. "George, we have to stop."

"Shh," he whispered, before returning to kissing her. This kiss was far less gentle, and it frightened Elizabeth.

"George, please, we have to stop." She reached a hand up to push him away, but he grabbed it by the wrist and pinned it to her side. "George! Please!" she begged. He did not pull away, and his grip on her turned fiercer, more vicious than before. "Please stop."

He never answered her, just pushed her down until she was lying on the bench, and continued what he had started. He used her own hand to muffle her despair.

Nearly thirty minutes later, inside the ballroom, Darcy looked up from his conversation with his sister, and his eyes fell on Wickham. He was speaking to his friend Denny. As Darcy watched, Denny clapped Wickham on the shoulder, and Wickham smiled. Darcy felt a chill run down his spine. He searched the room for Elizabeth.

She was not there. He could feel the blood draining from his face.

"William? Are you alright?"

"Georgie," he choked out. "Elizabeth." His eyes darted frantically around the ballroom. Georgiana turned and did her own scouring of the room for the second Miss Bennet. There was no sign of her. Georgiana's heart sank. She looked over at her brother. He was beginning to shake. "Elizabeth," he whispered.

Georgiana knew she could not allow her brother to see the fear and horror that came upon her as terrible memories surfaced, and awful new ideas formed. She must remain calm--at least until William was safely away and searching for Miss Bennet. She took hold of his elbow. "You do no one any good by panicking, William. Get a drink. Have a glass of something to clear your head. Begin to search the house."

"And the gardens," Darcy said.

"Yes. The gardens, too," Georgiana agreed. "I'll find Edward, and he'll join your search." She paused, and took a breath to steady herself a little. "Now go get your drink." She watched her brother stumble out of the ballroom in a daze. She herself was not faring much better. She placed her hand on the wall nearest to her, for support.

She had not imagined it would be so soon. In fact, she had hoped it wouldn't come at all. She didn't wish the fate she herself had suffered on anyone.

She heard footsteps approaching, and a hand came to rest on her arm.

"Georgie, my fairest cousin!" exclaimed Philip. "Would you do me the great honor--bolster my declining prestige, I might say--and dance the next with me?"

"I'm sorry, Philip," she said. "I cannot. But I--we must--that is--I mean--oh, would you fetch Edward here? I must see him at once."

"Come now, Miss Darcy," Philip urged with a large smile. "You can surely take a break from whatever urgencies await you to dance with your favorite cousin. I have been looking forward to the pleasure all night, I declare, and my anticipation was not diminished at all by the ladies I danced with earlier, though several of them were uncommonly pretty. Only you, dearest cousin," Philip said in exaggerated tones, "can hold the key to my heart."

Georgiana looked up at him, incredulous. Did he not see how distressed she was? Could he be so set in his joking, unserious ways that he did not see the urgency of her situation?

"Philip, I beg you. Fetch Edward." She did not look up at his face, but spoke quietly and watched the floor. Georgiana did not realize it, but a shadow of the insecure girl she had been in the months immediately following Wickham's betrayal and seduction of her was suddenly in her countenance. Philip did not see it, but he seemed to grasp that she was serious.

"If you'll excuse me, then," he said, "I'll find your preferred gentleman." He bowed, and left her.

Georgie's eyes swam, and she was leaning on the wall when a new voice spoke her name.

"Georgie?" She looked up to see the concerned figure of Colonel Fitzwilliam standing next to Philip. "Good God, Georgie, what is the matter?"

"Leave us, won't you, Philip?" Georgie asked weakly.

"But I--" Philip began. Edward cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand and a look so fierce it might have been a glare. "Fine, then," Philip said sulkily before turning and slouching away. Before his cousins were completely out of his eyesight, Philip shot a look back at them that was filled with anger. An unusual expression for him. It surprised Philip that he felt such a strong emotion, but he quickly dismissed and continued on to find another form of amusement

Meanwhile, back in the corner, Edward looked concernedly at Georgiana.

"Now, then, Georgie," he said softly. "What's this about?"

"Edward, oh, it's terrible," she whispered. "Wickham--" She couldn't finish that sentence, so she swallowed and tried again. "Miss Bennet--" No, not that one either. But she looked up at Edward and saw that she didn't need to find words to express either the horrible event, or it effect on her. Understanding was dawning in Edward's eyes.

"No," he whispered, horrified. "Oh, Georgie. How are you?" Georgiana swallowed and put her chin up bravely.

"I shall be fine. I learned long ago to not let Mr. Wickham affect me. All I need now is time to regain my composure." Edward doubted her words, but he did not question her on that subject any more.

"Where's Darcy?" he asked instead.

"He has already begun the search for Miss Bennet."

Edward nodded. "Let's get you out of this crowd, Georgie," he said.

"But I promised William you'd help him with the search," she protested.

"And I will," Edward said. "But not until you're out of this room and sitting somewhere where you'll be more comfortable, and better able to recover from the shock."

Georgiana nodded gratefully, and she took his offered arm. They did not make it more than a few steps, however, before Miss Bingley materialized in front of them.

"My dear Miss Darcy," she simpered. "How are you enjoying the evening? Have you tried the punch? Your brother declared it the best he'd tasted in a long time." So he hadn't, but who was to know? Not Georgiana. "You simply must come try it."

"I'm afraid my cousin is feeling a bit unwell, Miss Bingley," Edward said shortly. Caroline glared at him--she had not forgotten what he'd done to her earlier in the evening, sending her off to find her sister who had, it turned out, not been looking for her at all--before his words sank in.

"Poor Georgiana!" she cried with false concern. "Whatever is the matter?"

"It's nothing, Caroline," Georgiana said quietly. "A mere headache. I only thought I'd recover better in quiet and solitude."

"Of course, my dear. You go to your rooms and get better. I'm sure we'll have much to discuss tomorrow, about the events of tonight." She gave what she hope was a secretive smile, and left her "friend" and the Colonel to make their way from the ballroom, Georgiana leaning heavily on Edward.