Section I, Next Section

Part I

The Bennets own a small but profitable property development and management company. Mr. Bennet is Chairman of the Board and President Emeritus; he's well-renowned for his wit and business acumen, but he's been acting a bit dotty lately. His wife has always stayed as far from the business as possible, preferring to organize charity events for the purpose of marrying off her five daughters. A woman of the 50's, she is especially worried about the marriage prospects of her three eldest daughters, who hold prominent positions in Bennet Development, Ltd. Jane is Vice-President in Charge of Human Relations; Mary is the company historian; and Elizabeth is President and CEO. Kitty and Lydia's only involvement with the business is using the family account to cover their credit-card bills. The Gardiners, husband and wife, serve as chief legal counsel; Charlotte Lucas is Elizabeth's administrative assistant and best friend.

The business and social atmosphere enlivens considerably with opening of a new branch office of the Netherfield Location Group, presided over by one Charles Bingley. Bingley arrives for the grand opening, which is also attended by the Vice-President in Charge of HR for Bennet, Ltd. -- and he somehow feels compelled to remain in the area a little while longer, and then a little while longer after that. Soon relations are so congenial between the two executives that they begin to discuss a merger between their two companies. Mrs. Bennet heartily embraces the idea, but Elizabeth approaches it with some doubt. However, when she sees Jane's happiness, she pushes her objections aside and pursues the negotiations. To help arrange the possible deal, Bingley brings in his friend William Darcy, the formidable head of Pemberley, Inc. Darcy inspects the Bennets' business history, holdings, and accounts, and finally announces that while it looks like a good merger for Bingley, "it is not a handsome enough property to tempt me."

Elizabeth is thoroughly insulted by this, and runs a background check on him to scout out any possibilities for retaliation. Her investigation turns up urban environmental lobbyist George Wickham, a former employee of Pemberley Inc. Wickham claims to have been fired for whistle-blowing on Pemberley's abuse of tenants, exorbitant rents, and --not to mention the fact that they fired him without severance pay, against the terms of his contract. Elizabeth accepts this information and fires off an e-mail (from LizzyB@bennet.com) informing the Netherfield Group that she would prefer Darcy not mediate any possible merger. Darcy, on the other hand, has become quite attracted to the beautiful president of Bennet Ltd. He first saw her when he wandered into a local jazz club to hear "Lizzy B Sing the Standards," and was fascinated by her fine expressive eyes (and her rendition of "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off"). Now that he recognizes her business savvy, even as it is applied against him, he is doubly intrigued.

Part II

Mr. Collins, owner of a third share in Bennet Ltd., arrives to participate in the merger proceedings. His company is actually a mere subsidiary of De Bourgh Development, but he behaves as if he were Catherine Leona de Bourgh herself--rather than offering advice and votes on the merger, he tries to stage a hostile takeover of his own. Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet scrape enough money together to repel the attack and buy out Mr. Collins, but the move seriously depletes their resources, and they look forward with relief to the influx of capital to be provided by Netherfield. (The Collins buyout occurred over the strenuous objections of Mrs. Bennet, who was certain that should Collins work long enough with her daughters, he would be bound to marry one of them. Mrs. Bennet read a lot of Barbara Cartlands in her youth.) But Mr. Collins departs with only one female in tow: his new executive assistant, Charlotte Lucas, who has a father with Alzheimer's and needs the money he offers her.

So the negotiations continue, without interference from the odious Mr. Collins. Both Darcy and Wickham are regulars at Lizzy B's nightclub performances, but she notes that the latter gentleman never appears on the nights the former attends. Wickham frequently comes backstage after her shows, with roses, or chocolates, or a bottle of champagne; but though she toys with the idea of a fling, Lizzy realizes when she's being played. She knows he could use a quick consulting job to clear out some of his lobbying group's business debts (the name of his lobbying group, the Redwood Redcoats, came up twice in the Congressional hearings on campaign finance reform), but she prefers to keep her business life separate from her personal relationships, and is rather distrustful of anyone who would play on one to attain the other. Thus, she keeps their relationship light, accepting his Dom Perignon but not his advances.

Lizzy is more puzzled by the less obvious behavior of her other admirer. Mr. Darcy supposedly has no further involvement in the merger, yet he remains in town, occasionally plays a round of golf with Bingley, and never seems to attend to any business of his own. She casually mentions this to an acquaintance of hers at Pemberley Inc., Vice-President David Fitzwilliam, and learns that in fact Darcy now recommends that Bingley pull out of the merger. Elizabeth is infuriated. Then suddenly, in the final week of negotiations, Bingley calls and tells Jane that he's going to Japan with Darcy for an indefinite period of time - he cannot stay - he'll be in touch. Three weeks later, he still hasn't called. Elizabeth and Jane jointly and sadly decide that such a man would not make a good partner in business or in life, and plans for mergers of any kind--financial or marital--are shelved.

Part III

Some time later, Lizzy attends the annual week-long Private Residential and Industrial Development Expo (PRIDE), hosted by De Bourgh Development in ------ City. The conference this year (like most years) is being held in honor of Catherine de Bourgh, chair emeritus of PRIDE, and Charlotte sneaks Elizabeth tickets to the special banquets and cocktail parties given by the hostess. At one of these elite gatherings, Lizzy finds herself face to face with Mr. Darcy. He makes no apologies for his or Bingley's sudden departure, and in fact does not mention his friend at all--but he does make every effort to involve Elizabeth in conversation, despite her curt and cold replies. After some time, she spots Mr. Fitzwilliam across the room and excuses herself to speak with him. A few subtle inquiries get her the information she wants: Bingley was called away to work on a Pemberley Inc. project (Darcy's company owns a fourth interest in the Netherfield Group), at Mr. Darcy's special request, and over Bingley's own misgivings at leaving the merger unfinished. Elizabeth is (again) infuriated, and when Mr. Darcy finds her again at a gala three days later, and requests a private meeting the next day, she accepts with great surprise and minimum politeness.

The meeting is set for ten a.m., and Elizabeth makes no effort to put herself together for it--indeed, she has no idea what the man might want. Certainly she does not expect what does happen. Mr. Darcy announces his earnest admiration of her skills, especially her ability to make profitable such a limited operation as Bennet Development; his intention to buy that small operation, with her permission, and expand it using his resources; and his hope that she might agree to a position in his own company, as the first executive vice-president, second only to himself and his sister. All this is done in tones of expectation, confidence, almost command. Elizabeth cannot be more astonished, especially when he ends his proposals by asking (more humbly) if she would be his dinner partner at the closing banquet that evening.

Her astonishment, however, does not dim her reason, or her anger at being addressed with such hauteur. She replies quite firmly that Bennet is a family business and will always remain so, not to pass out of family control. But even if it were a company she was not personally involved with, she assures him, she would not begin to consider his proposals, because of his unjustifiable behavior to his tenants, his properties, his employees--and also his friends, if his actions with Bingley are any indication. Lastly, she is skipping the banquet to perform at a friend's club, so she must decline his kind offer of companionship (said with great sarcasm). He asks her the source of the preceding allegations; she answers with some satisfaction that Mr. Wickham has been most helpful in revealing the true nature of Pemberley Inc. He reddens, snarls that he would not think Mr. Wickham knows anything of truth, and that he shall not be seeing her again, then, if she is engaged for the evening; and stalks from the room.

Part IV

That night at the Regency jazz club, Lizzy is well into her second set when she notices a dark-haired man curled around a whiskey and water. It takes her two songs (to the middle of "But Not for Me") to recognize the stranger: the impeccable Darcy, in wrinkled evening dress, disheveled hair, and depressed countenance. Her sudden discomposure does not interrupt the intriguing mixture of sweetness and archness in her singing, however; and she makes two encores before the crowd disperses. As the club closes, Darcy finds his way to her and delivers a CD-ROM in an jewel case. He whispers "PowerPoint," and disappears into the night.

Part V

Elizabeth hurries back to her hotel and impatiently loads the CD-ROM into her laptop. She opens the only file on it, ("MsBennet.prs") and finds...

SLIDE #1. Text, with a cold, impassioned audio: "Ms. Bennet, I am sorry to wound your feelings with any of the truths presented herein; but justice and my own pride demanded the creation of this presentation; and justice and your own honor demand your attention to it. Please, then, continue."

SLIDE #2. Graphic of three 19-- revenue charts, labeled "Bennet," "Netherfield," and "Pemberley."

SLIDE #3. Text: "The first charge I wish to address is my active involvement in breaking up the Bennet-Netherfield merger. I admit it, freely and without compunction."

SLIDE #4. Text: "Charles and I attended Harvard together. His father was a moderately successful salesman who wished to start his own business; and soon Charles and I were friends enough that, when I had acquired a little power of my own in Pemberley Inc., I exerted it in funding Netherfield Enterprise's first venture. It was an immediate success, and as time went on, I took my payback in the form of stock, and I now own one-fifth of the company. Charles' father retired six years ago, and he has since run it by himself, with some assistance from his sister."

SLIDE #5. Text: "Yet business has been variable, since his initial success; and Charles frequently relies upon my judgment as much as his own. Thus he called me in when the negotiations with your company began. That I did not want it to happen was certain - but my opinions are not usually influenced by my desires, and I reported to Mr. Bingley as a business partner, not as a friend."

SLIDE #6. Text with audio: "My conclusions were these: that the continued growth of spending in the personal sector of your business could not be maintained by the additional revenue provided by the merger, and that the spending was in no way likely to be checked. The debt burden acquired during the recent Collinsco buyout was another concern."

SLIDE #7. Chart of Bennet Ltd. expenditures, with the personal spending nearly equal to the business spending. Audio: "In other words, examination of your mother and two youngest sisters' long-term spending habits convinced me that Netherfield was not prepared to handle such a debt burden. I believed firmly that a merger could only sink both companies, and, it must be said, my not-inconsiderable investment in Netherfield."

SLIDE #8. Text with audio: "I presented these conclusions to Charles one week before the negotiations were to conclude. The influence, though not necessarily the power lay with me; and though I did not threaten to pull out of Netherfield should he continue with the merger, I made all the evils of his choice clear."

SLIDE #9. Picture of Jane and Bingley, taken at the city Founders' Ball the preceding April. Text: "Of course, a wedding accompanying the merger would be likely to encourage rather than dissuade your family from further expenditures, even during the critical period of financial amalgamation. If it is any consolation, I believed him most sincerely attached to your sister; he did not want to leave ------ City after the negotiations were terminated, but he could too easily change his mind, and I convinced him to come with me to Japan. I regret any pain my actions may have caused your sister personally, but I do not regret the actions themselves."

SLIDE #10. Text: "My proposals last night are not comparable to the Netherfield merger. Pemberley can easily sustain large losses--even those that must be occasioned by a wedding, which would not be occurring in our case. I thought to benefit your family in general, and you in particular; I also felt that your enthusiasm and boldness would make a valuable addition to the Darcy boardroom. But enough is said here. I respect your family's independence, and have only the best wishes for your future."

(The look of the presentation changed here, from conservative navy backgrounds with gold letters to harsh black text on white.)

SLIDE #11. Picture of George Wickham, apparently taken at a fraternity party (he has a beer in each hand, and he's wearing bermuda shorts, an unbuttoned plaid flannel shirt, a white undershirt, and, on his head, hot pink ladies' bikini underwear). Audio: (sardonically) "And now for the esteemed Mr. Wickham."

SLIDE #12. Audio with text: "George was the son of the Vice-President in charge of Property Management of Pemberley Inc. Douglas Wickham was my late father's best friend and most trusted advisor, and when his son flunked out of his second semester at Brown (for reasons the preceding picture should make obvious), my father let him be hired on in Douglas's division. The elder Mr. Wickham died three years afterward."

SLIDE #13. Picture of a older man strongly resembling Mr. Darcy and a much more civilized-looking George Wickham on a golf course, arms around each other's shoulders, grinning at the camera. Audio with scrolling text: "By that time, Mr. Wickham's charm and networking skills had more than compensated for his lack of education, and my father named George the new head of Property Management. I advised against this measure; all my personal experience with George, from company picnics together as children to competitive golf as adults, showed that he was a man of no principle, little work ethic, great greed -- and excellent acting ability, for this behavior was never displayed in my father's presence, and my objections were overruled. Surprisingly enough, the property revenues increased by half in the first quarter. When Father died a month later, he left a good sum of money to Mr. Wickham upon his retirement from the company--which was expected to be in twenty to thirty years."

SLIDE #14. Picture of Darcy will, with relevant information highlighted.

SLIDE #15. Text: "For five months after my father's death, there were no problems. Mr. Wickham seemed indolent, but benignly so; and though I began a private search for a replacement, I found no need to fire him immediately. Then, on a routine and random property tour, which I try to conduct every three months, I noticed several cans of lead paint being used to paint a hallway. I saw public spaces in my buildings that had been scrubbed but failed to get clean. And I discovered that we had had an unusually high tenant turnover in the relatively brief period that Wickham had been in charge of management, but that this turnover was focused primarily in our lower-rent properties. Note also that revenues apparently continued to increase."

SLIDE #16. Picture of label with skull and crossbones. Text: "I spoke to the janitors. They informed me that Mr. Wickham had provided them with new cleaning materials some time after assuming his new position. These products were cheap but dangerous: several had been banned in the United States for their lethal content."

SLIDE #17. Picture of a shadowy hallway. Text: "Workers had found the lead paint in the apartment building's basement. Wickham instructed them to use it to repaint the hallway. Where the funds allotted for the paint went, we shall never know--but I strongly suspect they bought the wheel covers in the next slide."

SLIDE #18. Picture of a grinning Wickham next to a shining red convertible Alfa Romeo

SLIDE #19. Text: "I investigated further. Wickham had switched trash-disposal companies about a month into his tenure, which saved us several tens of thousands of dollars a year. The difference, however, lay in the landfill used by the disposal company: rather than trucking the garbage out to a location about fifty miles distant, the new company put it into a supposedly closed landfill that drained into the city water supply."

SLIDES #20, 21, 22: Pictures to illustrate the text of Slide #16.

SLIDE #23. Audio with text: "As you can see, Wickham had not been indolent at all. But there is worse still to come. I called several former tenants of our lower-rent buildings, to inquire why they had moved out of apartments that seemed to provide the best value for little money. All said that Pemberley's ridiculous rates could hardly be called a good value, especially given our constant rent hikes. I had authorized no such raises."

SLIDE #24. Picture of letters sent to tenants informing them of latest rent increases, dated Sept. 22, 19--, January 29, 19--, and March 16, 19--. Overlay text: "This had apparently been going on for quite some time, but we had in fact seen no appreciable increase in rent revenue. Our gains in the Property Management grosses must be attributed to Mr. Wickham's so-called economy. The difference in the Pemberley and Wickham rents was going straight into Wickham's bank account. He had barely bothered to conceal his embezzlement."

SLIDE #25. Text. "During these investigations, more disturbing information came to light. Wickham's administrative assistant stated that he had made inappropriate sexual advances to her at least twice. I spoke to other ladies in the department, and the assistant's statements were corroborated by four others. Several of them later sued; these cases were settled out of court."

SLIDE #26. Text with audio: "Thus I fired Wickham immediately, without references and with great satisfaction. He threatened to sue for the retirement trust; I gave him the one-half percent he had earned of it as a severance package. My sister Georgiana had just graduated from Princeton Law School, and she took over the position Wickham vacated. In respect for his father's memory, I said only that he had left 'to pursue other opportunities.'"

SLIDE #27. Picture of press release announcing Wickham's departure.

SLIDE #28. Picture of Wickham shaking hands with a grinning spectacled gentleman. Audio: "I should have said, 'to take advantage of other fools.' Though for my own sake I should not have wished to know anything more of the man ever again, his name kept appearing in the media. You see him here with Senator Helms of North Carolina, a contact he made in his next venture--as a public-relations man for the Tobacco Institute...

SLIDE #29. Group picture, all men, with Wickham near center. Audio: "...as chief lobbyist for the American Bar Association..."

SLIDE #30. Film clip. Wickham leers into a microphone: (audio) "And today on the George Wickham Show, transsexual strippers and the men who love them." Hoots and clapping in the background. Darcy voice-over audio: "Thankfully, this only ran on public access."

SLIDE #31. Picture of Wickham and others, all clad in red shirts and holding hands around a tall sequoia tree. "After the regrettable television experiment, Wickham claims to have undergone a 'spiritual renewal,' which led to his involvement with the Redwood Redcoats. My personal biases lead me to suspect that their immense funding from MacroSoft giant Fitz Doors is the likeliest source of his environmental interest, but you may think what you choose."

SLIDE #32. Picture of Wickham and Elizabeth sitting together at the regional PRIDE conference, heads close together, deep in conversation.

SLIDE #33. Picture of Georgiana Darcy, wearing hiking gear, sitting under a redwood tree, smiling. Text with audio: "We now arrive at what is for me the most painful part of my history with Mr. Wickham. My sister Georgiana has for some time been involved with environmental causes, and in fact currently sits on the board of directors of the Sierra Club. She is also very interested in using alternative building materials in Pemberley Inc.'s properties."

SLIDE #34. Text with audio. "A year and a half ago, she encountered Mr. Wickham at the local Earth Day festival. She knew very little of my interaction with him three years earlier--she had been studying for the bar exam at the time--and remembered only his friendliness to her as a child. She was most flattered that he remembered her still (or at the very least, remembered her money and my treatment of him), and they set up a date for dinner."

SLIDE #35. Formal portrait photograph of William and Georgiana Darcy, each with an attractive but reserved smile, posed together but mentally miles apart. Audio: "Georgiana and I are not as close as I would like to be-you and Jane provide an excellent example. At this time, we saw each other only at work and in our twice-weekly siblings' meetings; we rarely shared confidences or details of our personal lives. I was then delighted when she told me about her new significant other, how charming and handsome and amusing he was... until she reached what might be regarded as the punch line of Wickham's joke."

SLIDE #36. Text with audio. "I heard his name, and I was deeply, deeply infuriated. This was about two hours before their scheduled dinner, and it took most of the next hour for me to relate the whole story and present the evidence, dwelling especially on the two secretaries and three technicians whom Wickham had sexually harassed. She knew all of them--one was a close personal friend. I told her that she was a grown woman, and her personal life was her business; but he was not welcome in my house or on my grounds, and most certainly not at Pemberley Inc."

SLIDE #37. Picture of e-mail addressed to Georgiana Darcy. Audio. "She called him and broke off their plans. What she said I do not know; but over the next three months she received over four dozen malevolent phone calls, e-mails, or letters. The notes evinced a long familiarity with Pemberley Inc. practices, administration and grounds layout, and the style was familiar to those who had worked with Wickham. Georgiana eventually went to court and procured a restraining order against him; the harassment abruptly and thankfully stopped."

SLIDE #38. Film clip of Darcy, speaking directly into the camera. Music playing almost imperceptibly in the background. He speaks intensely, but with little inflection. "This, Ms. Bennet, is the true account of my history with George Wickham. Mr. Fitzwilliam can provide you with further details and the relevant documents of the Pemberley dealings, if you choose to seek them. In the other matter, I repeat my apologies to your sister, if she has been hurt; and as for you, Ms. Bennet" (here his mouth trembles a little, and he pauses), "keep good care." (He reaches toward the camera, and the screen goes blank.)

Part VI

Elizabeth began watching the presentation with all her defensive sensibilities on guard. His statements about Jane and Bingley incensed her -- who did this man think he was, to play God with his friends, to poke into her family's personal bank accounts, to ruin the happiness of her sister? Protecting his investment in Netherfield was not an acceptable excuse, and his condescension was hardly to be borne. She was tempted to delete all files at that point.

Then she saw the picture of Wickham, whom she had always found a paragon of charm and elegance. Elizabeth recalled checking his credentials with the Redwood group, but had made no further inquiries into his past. What she knew of his tenure at Pemberley was only what he had said himself; she had instinctively assumed that Mr. Fitzwilliam or Bingley would have given her information biased to Mr. Darcy, and so made no application to those gentlemen. Now she saw that Wickham had been dismissed for instituting the very practices he had claimed to be fired for exposing. The damning contracts for the trash service and lawsuits in the sexual harassment cases were in appendix files on the CD-ROM. His liaison with Georgiana was similarly documented by society column clippings and a canceled check in the name of Georgiana Darcy, written to "Gerry" Wickham for $15,000. Elizabeth felt a burst of sympathy for Darcy as she examined the check; it must have pained him to see again these records of his sister's indiscretion. She had suspected at the beginning that he had digitally created all the evidence, but the time was too brief and the workmanship too good. Darcy had even included Mr. Fitzwilliam's e-mail address (fitzw@pemberley.com) and cell phone number should she wish to check his statements.

Elizabeth went over the presentation again. Her business sense listened more readily to his reasoning against the Netherfield merger, and saw some justice in his actions. She was assured that Jane's suffering was not intended, and that Mr. Darcy regretted causing it; yet she was equally sure that he did not regret what he had done. His arrogance was still grating; but his sincerity was evident.

She was forced to more carefully examine her own actions as she reviewed the second part of the presentation. Thank heaven she had never offered Wickham a job at Bennet, as she had considered! And thank heaven their dalliance together had been cut short by that vice-president over at King Banking, after the Collins buyout! Elizabeth realized then that both Wickham and Darcy had been evaluating her business with a stricter measure than she was wont to use. She knew that Bennet would make it, barring any further disasters; they had no such confidence. One left at the first sign of trouble; -- and the other, she had dismissed with false accusations and personal insult. She would not change what she had done in relationship to him; but she would soften its expression.

This last sentiment increased as she reexamined the ending video of him: in the background, faintly, she heard her own voice. It was from her last CD, Lizzy B's Blues, on "The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea." She knew he admired her voice; but to play it after her rejection told her that she had not adequately judged the depth of his admiration. It was flattering, indeed.

Elizabeth looked at the clock. It was 4 a.m.; she had a 7:30 plane out of the city. She went to bed, but she didn't sleep.

Her aunt and uncle greeted her at the airport with good news: they had booked a vacation for the three of them. They would take a cruise through the Virgin Islands, then spend a week at a privately owned cottage. They hoped Jane would join them; but she had been quieter than usual recently, and when asked her opinion of the plan, had offered instead to keep care of her two nephews. Elizabeth was worried about this development, but offered her enthusiastic approval of the rest of the Gardiners' plans. They would leave in a month.

The time passed quickly. Elizabeth did not mention Bingley when she told Jane of Mr. Darcy's proposals, and Jane was all astonishment at what she did learn, of Wickham's amazing metamorphoses. She was sure that Mr. Wickham had been misrepresented somewhere; yet her inspection of the evidence found quite as little as wrong with it as Elizabeth's had. Lizzy found her sister still quite despondent over Charles Bingley. She had called Dr. Laura Schlessinger, and been subjected to a five-minute lecture on her personal responsibility in the matter; she had e-mailed Bingley, to find that the Netherfield domain name had changed. She steadfastly refused to go to the Virgin Islands -- "too much time to sit and think," she told her sister. "The children will keep me busier." Elizabeth worried.

She was also concerned about Lydia's latest venture, an extended trip to South Padre Island. In answer to her objections, Mr. Bennet said only that Lydia would embarrass them less seven hundred miles away -- and besides, wasn't an adult chaperone going? Elizabeth resisted the urge to tell her father about Mrs. Forster's drinking problem and instead called the bank to lower Lydia's credit limit. Her sister's group left for a scheduled two weeks.

Four days before Lizzy's departure date, the cruise company called. The ship they were booked on had been taken over for the making of the sequel to "Speed": they had the option of being extras and meeting Jason Patric, or getting their money back -- along with an extra week at the private island. The Bennet group (very wisely) chose the latter course; and then, it was time to go.

Part VII

Elizabeth leaned forward to look at her aunt's itinerary. Flight 308 out of --------- City to Miami; charter flight from Miami to Key West; and then a brief boat trip from Key West to ...

"Pemberley Island?" she asked.

"Yes, Pemberley," said her aunt, absently. "Isn't that a lovely name?"

Elizabeth swallowed. "Who are we renting the house from again?"

Mrs. Gardiner looked up, surprised. "My old college roommate, Jane Lambton. You remember -- she did the novelization of that one Emma Thompson film, and right now she's involved with some British Regency miniseries, I forget the name. She's quite well-off."

Elizabeth forced a laugh. "No connection, then, with the Pemberley Inc. we all know and love so well?"

Her aunt's look sharpened. "Ah -- Mr. Darcy. I don't know; there might very well be. I remember something I was reading mentioning Darcys in the Caribbean...Here." She dug through her tote bag and emerged with a small travel guide. "Find Pemberley Island -- it says something about it in there."

Elizabeth found what she was looking for. Pemberley Island was originally known as Mansfield Island, colonized in 1735 by Sir James Fitzhugh and given to him by the Crown in recognition of his services. After the Revolutionary War, it became part of the United States, though still privately owned by the newly-Americanized descendants of Sir James. For sixty years, it operated as a thriving sugarcane and cotton plantation -- worked, of course, by hundreds of African slaves. Then in 1853, Nicholas Darcy, the eighteen-year-old son of an aristocratic English family, offered the Fitzhughs $25,000 for the island and plantation. He was rejected, but the property became his with his marriage to Bella Fitzhugh in 1857. The island became wholly his a year later, with the death of Michael Fitzhugh II. Nicholas Darcy promptly changed the island's name to Pemberley (the name of his family's manor in England), freed all the slaves, built a small resort, hired them back, and made a large profit housing refugee Southern planters and their families during the Civil War. The resort closed in the early 1910s; the Darcy family still owned the island and rented properties to vacationers, as part of the Pemberley Inc. development company.

Elizabeth sighed and put the book down.

"Do you mind, my dear?" Mrs. Gardiner asked anxiously. "Wickham may not like our patronizing Pemberley Inc. -- but Jane's sent me pictures, and it looks like the loveliest place, miles and miles of beach...shall we let our principles take a vacation too, and we'll resume our official righteous indignation at Mr. Darcy when we leave his island?"

"I think our righteous indignation can certainly take a break," said Elizabeth quietly. "Though I would prefer not to meet him there."

"Oh, you don't need to worry about his spoiling our vacation," said Mr. Gardiner affectionately. "I understand he just landed some new project in Las Vegas. Can you imagine a man less suited to Las Vegas, in taste or reserve? His slot machines will not blow horns, but discreetly play a Bach fanfare; and when the coins fall out, they will come one at a time."

Elizabeth laughed, but then turned to the window, and did not move again until they began their descent into Miami.

Part VIII

Elizabeth caught her breath as the hydroplane circled over Pemberley Island. The beaches gleamed pearly white in the early evening sun, and the jungle and plains at the island's center glowed topaz. When she could look away, she turned to smile at her aunt.

"It looks like paradise," she said. "Thank you for arranging this."

"It is paradise," the hydroplane pilot broke in passionately. They looked at him and he reddened. "I grew up here -- I live in Elizabethport, there." He pointed out the window to an array of houses clustered around the docks. "My parents lived here, and my grandparents. Elizabethport is not the fanciest place on the island. Fishers and servants, mostly, in the big houses. Bellaville, it has the shops and clubs. But my family is three houses away. My children, they have a good school. The sun shines almost every day. Señor Darcy pays everyone well. I know no one unhappy to be here, and no visitor who ever wanted to leave."

Elizabeth leaned forward. "Mr. Darcy pays the salaries of everyone on the island?"

"Not everyone. The shopkeepers in Bellaville, they make their own money, but the properties they rent from Señor Darcy. The fishers are independent of Señor, but they rent their houses from him." He nodded thoughtfully. "But everyone on the island is connected to him, sí."

"And is he a good landlord?"

"Señor? Sí, the best. He gives us lower rents than the people in Bellaville, and he pays for the schoolteacher, and he makes sure we get our repairs. My Lucia niña hurt a wall, he had a man in to fix it" -- he gestured with a hand -- "three days. He has his own plane, so I don't see him much, but now my brother, he works in Señor's garden, and says he always says 'Buenas Dias'. When he's here, which isn't often." He paused and smiled. "A good man, Señor."

The Gardiners looked at each other. On the plane from Miami to Key West, Elizabeth had apprised them of some of her new information about Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham; but he had been such a favorite, that she had not given them all of it, and they had doubted and wondered at what she had said. Now they saw their niece's words confirmed -- and by an employee of Mr. Darcy, no less! It looked to be an interesting vacation.

The hydroplane swooped gently into the darkening waters of Pemberley Bay, and landed with a comfortable splash.

"You are being met?" the pilot asked.

"Yes," said Mrs. Gardiner, pulling a paper from her bag. "Señora -- Renaldo?"

"Sí, la Señora," the pilot agreed. "She's el Señor's property manager here, with her husband. She'll take good care of you. But watch out!" He made pinching motions with his fingers and grinned. "La Señora, she likes to talk. And talk. And talk. Hang on to your ears, no?"

They grinned back and climbed out of the plane, ready to meet Mrs. Renaldo.

Maybe no one was ever ready for Mrs. Renaldo, Elizabeth thought an hour later. She had greeted them and ushered them into a Jeep while the pilot loaded their bags; then she had promptly taken the driver's seat and started her car and her mouth simultaneously. They heard the history of Elizabethport (named for Mr. Nicholas Darcy's mother, main port on the island, magnifico seafood if you knew where to look), of Bellaville (founded by Nicholas Darcy and named for his wife after she became jealous of the honor paid to his mother, a more ornate and less friendly collection of shops, overpriced restaurants and a few low-rise condos, mostly for the tourists who could afford one of the latter but not one of the big houses), of the current Mr. Darcy's love life ("The last señorita he had here -- Dios mio -- didn't like the island. She thought it was too isolated, no cable television, something like that, I don't know, but Señor is not a poor man and she thought she could take a little island for el dinero, no? Well, as a matter of fact, no. No no no no no, no isla, and Señor sent her back after two days of her complaining, gracias a Dios. He stayed here three weeks more, alone, not even with Señorita Darcy. El hombre pobre.") and of the terrible damage wreaked by the last hurricane ("Houses flying through the air like the Wizard of Oz, no? But no witches to kill. Señorita Bingley, she wasn't down here then.").

Though she rarely stopped to listen to the answers to the questions she asked them, her torrent of words would break for a question addressed to her. By this means, they ascertained that Mr. and Miss Bingley were fairly frequent visitors to the Darcys' house; that she had never liked Señor Wickham when she had worked as Señor Darcy's housekeeper--he had left beer spilled on the bedsheets and pretzels ground into the carpet; and that neither Señor nor Señorita Darcy had been down all summer, nor were they expected anytime soon. (Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief.) It was nearly ten by the time they reached Ms. Lambton's house, and though the trip had not been particularly wearying, Mrs. Renaldo had managed to tire Elizabeth and the Gardiners out. They endured her tour of Ms. Lambton's house, nodded dutifully at views, warnings, and travel tips, saw her out the door, and fell into bed.

Part IX

"Lizzy," called Mrs. Gardiner. "Lizzy!"

Elizabeth rolled over into her pillow as her aunt came into her room. "Aunt Madeline, surely you don't expect me to get up at this hour."

"Silly girl, the sun's rising over the sea, and it's lovely. Come down to the beach with us -- your uncle has hot tea ready. We'll be outside on the deck. Hurry, dear, the sun's almost up!"

When Elizabeth reached the deck, she took the hot tea gratefully; the morning was beautiful but cold. In their weariness, they had merely glanced at the moonlit view the night before, but sun and sleep revealed a golden strip of beach and endless sparkling waters. Lizzy remembered the pilot's claim of paradise and smiled.

"Shall we go down to the beach?" Mr. Gardiner asked. The ladies assented, and they descended the stairs. The cool sands were comfortable on their bare feet, but the sea water proved too cold to walk in -- it nipped their toes and sent them laughing and scrambling back to wholly dry shore. Soon they found themselves walking north along the sea.

Lizzy said, "I wonder where our nearest neighbor is?"

"A mile or so either direction, I would think," Mrs. Gardiner replied. "Jane says what she likes best is the privacy. No distractions, no television to keep her busy..."

"Yet I noticed a fax machine in the hall," Mr. Gardiner interrupted, "and she seems to spend quite a lot of time e-mailing you."

"I should send the fax number to Jane," said Elizabeth abstractedly, "in case anything happens."

"Though nothing will," said Mrs. Gardiner. She reached over and put an arm around her niece. "Relax, Lizzy darling. The business won't fall apart without us, and we'll have two lovely weeks to lie in the sand and do nothing."

"And there's even a piano," added Mr. Gardiner. "You can sing all you want, and we certainly won't complain."

Lizzy smiled and slipped arms around her aunt and uncle. "You're both dears," she said, "and I hereby vow not to even think of work for a whole two weeks. But I will send the fax number to Jane, just in case."

When they had gone about half a mile, they reached a grand house, with three gabled and balconied stories facing the sea. A sun porch lined with French doors stretched the length of the front, and the deck was actually a series of terraces that descended to the shore.

"A lovely house," observed Mr. Gardiner. "Old, too -- the 1890s, perhaps."

"And our neighbors are closer than I expected," said his wife.

Two of the French doors were open, and they suddenly heard music. Someone was playing the piano -- quite well, indeed, and quite chillingly, for the song sounded like a dirge. The pianist's depression was present in the music; and the golden morning suddenly felt cold, and the empty beach lonely and deserted.

"Lizzy, did you recognize the song?" Mrs. Gardiner whispered after the music ceased.

"Angel Eyes," Lizzy murmured. "I've sung it once or twice, but it's almost painful to do -- it's bitterly unhappy."

"So is the pianist, I think," said Mr. Gardiner.

They fell back into silence as they continued up the beach. When they had gone another half-mile past the grand mansion without reaching any more signs of civilization, they turned around and headed back to their own house. Each was lost in his or her private thoughts when Mrs. Gardiner caught sight of a figure on the beach.

"Ah, a neighbor!" she said cheerfully. "Could he be from the big house?"

"I would imagine so, unless he's come from ours," said Mr. Gardiner. His wife punched him on the arm.

The figure ran from the lowest terrace straight into the surf, and dived.

"My goodness," said Mrs. Gardiner, "that water's not more than sixty degrees."

"An early morning swim sounds invigorating," said Mr. Gardiner mischievously. He swept his wife up into his arms. "Would you care to try it, my dear?"

"EDWARD!" she shrieked. "PUT ME DOWN!" He ran with her down the beach as she laughed and screamed and hit him. "ED-WARD!" He reached the ocean's edge and made as if to drop her. Madeline Gardiner linked her arms around her husband's neck so she could drag him with her, and together they fell into one of the crashing waves.

Elizabeth laughed so hard she had to sit down. She watched her shivering aunt and uncle wrap their arms around each other and share a long, close kiss, and felt suddenly quite lonely. She got up, brushed the sand off, and decided to give them a little privacy by walking ahead.

The figure in the surf had stroked fifty yards out and then paused when Mrs. Gardiner screamed. Now he came back towards the shore; he reached the edge, turned around, swam out to the same point, and swam in again. During the time he took to turn around, Lizzy noted that it was definitely a man, and that he definitely knew how to wear a swimsuit -- a Speedo, in fact. She hadn't seen his face, but his body was a thing of beauty and a joy forever, for sure. She grinned.

He repeated his lap out and came in again. Lizzy studied him as he cut through the water, hoping to see if his face matched his body, maybe say hello if he stopped. He apparently hadn't noticed her yet. He stood up in the surf, splashed water on his face, and shook his hair back. Oh, his face was as handsome as the rest of him -- and it was one she knew.

"MR. DARCY?" she gasped.

He looked up. "MS. BENNET?"

They stared at each other, neither able to move, as the waves broke around him on the shore.

Part X

"What are you doing here?"

The question hung in the air between them, as each simultaneously demanded it of the other. Elizabeth closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, he was still staring at her as if -- as if she were a ghost that had been haunting him, and finally appeared in solid form.

Probably not such a bad analogy, she thought. She was neither invited nor wanted, but, oh yes, she was here anyway.

"I'm sorry. I haven't any right to ask that of you," she said gently. "Nor any right to be here. But my aunt arranged to sublet Jane Lambton's house down the beach some weeks ago, and Señora Renaldo assured us that you were not expected anytime soon." She paused and looked at her hands. "Which does not justify my appearance on your property."

"No, no, it's quite all right," he said distractedly. "Welcome to Pemberley. Your family -- how are they?"

She looked up, startled. "My family? They're fine, thank you." She paused again. "And your sister?"

"Georgiana? Fine, fine." He groped for conversation. "You're here with them?"

"My family? No, just my aunt and uncle." She waved towards Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, who were bearing down on them with great speed and much curiosity. "Mr. Darcy, really, I'm sorr--"

He cut her short. "And you, Miss Bennet, you are well?"

"Y-yes," she stammered. She hardly knew what to say, or where to look. His talk was unnerving; there was almost certainly no one whom he less needed to treat with politeness, yet he was valiantly trying to engage her in conversation, standing there in the water, in his swimming briefs... Don't go there, Elizabeth. "And you?"

"I am well." With a desperate effort: "Have you been here long?"

"Just last night." Another pause. "And you?"

"I -- I -- I don't know." He gave up all attempt at conversation and just looked at her blankly. She looked back in equal confusion. They were saved from this dearth of words by the arrival of her cheerfully wet aunt and uncle, who seemed to see nothing amiss in the situation. They introduced themselves, commented on the beauty of the island and the wonderful treatment they'd already received, explained the Lambton connection, and in short appeared perfectly capable of forming complete sentences in his presence. Elizabeth envied them the ability.

"But we understood that you were not expected on the island anytime soon, Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Gardiner said.

With an effort, Mr. Darcy detached his eyes from her niece and focused upon the elder lady. "Yes," he said, "I try to come down whenever business permits." His eyes glanced toward Elizabeth, but he looked back to Mrs. Gardiner. "Will you be staying at Pemberley long?"

"We have the house for two weeks," Mr. Gardiner said. "Though I don't know if you'll be able to drag us off, from what I've seen so far."

"Thank you," said Mr. Darcy. A short pause ensued, and his eyes came back again to Elizabeth. Hers had never left him.

"Well," said Mrs. Gardiner brightly, "thanks to my dear husband here, I believe I'm a bit cold. If you'll excuse us, Mr. Darcy? It's been so good to meet you."

"Yes, a pleasure," said Mr. Gardiner.

Mr. Darcy seemed to awaken of a sudden. "It was all mine," he said, in almost a normal voice. He shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, nodded briefly at Elizabeth, and excused himself.

As soon as he disappeared onto the first terrace, Elizabeth ran. She had never, never been so mortified in her life; her luck was cursed, her situation intolerable. She should leave the island at once. She would devise some excuse to her aunt and uncle -- an urgent business deal she must finish, some emergency meeting she'd forgotten. What had ever become of the Netherfield papers? Could she finish those? What else? She hadn't unpacked, she could grab her bags and call Sr. Aviaguas, the pilot, and be home by day's end. Blast, and damn, and -- Elizabeth slowed as she reached the house, and looked at its promise of rest and comfort. Her two weeks' vacation, gone. Blast.

The problem was shame, she thought quietly. She was ashamed of her mistake about Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham, and could not stand to face one whom she had so wrongly wounded. After she returned home, she had put the events of the PRIDE conference away from her. Mr. Wickham was gone; Mr. Bingley apparently wasn't coming back; she had no reason to think of it again, and did not, except in short and painful flashes of memory of her own poor judgment. She had never acknowledged to him that she had been wrong; but then, she had not expected to see him again. Now here she was, and here he was; and she could stay, and perhaps apologize, or go, and add the scene on the beach to the file of unpleasant memories in connection with him. She wanted to stay, very much, but what should she do? What did propriety demand? Of all the unlucky meetings. Damn, and damn, and blast.

She was sitting on her bed thinking it through when her aunt and uncle came in.

"Lizzy?" Mrs. Gardiner called, just as she had earlier that morning. "Lizzy?"

"I'm here, in my room," Lizzy called back.

"What was that all about?" her aunt asked as she entered a few moments later.

"Oh, Aunt, please don't ask me about it now," Lizzy said tiredly. "I'll tell you sometime later, I promise. Just -- not now."

"All right then," said Mrs. Gardiner doubtfully. "If you'd rather." She paused. "Your uncle's in the shower -- I think I'm going to poke around and see what's for breakfast. Want to join me?"

"I don't think so, not right now. I think I'm going to lay down and go back to sleep." She hoped to buy a little time before she came to an ultimate decision.

"You're sure you're all right?" Elizabeth nodded. Her aunt gave her a worried look, and left the room.

She did lay down and close her eyes for a few minutes. It was a big island; surely she could stay, and avoid seeing him. Really, how often could horrible instances like this morning's happen?

All too often, her own experience said. Best to go.

She was slowly gathering what stuff she had removed from her luggage when the doorbell rang. It was probably Señora Renaldo, back with more tours and advice.

"Elizabeth!" It was her uncle calling this time. "Come here for a moment?"

No. But she really should. Reluctantly, she left her room and descended the stairs.

And met Mr. Darcy again, standing with her freshly washed and dressed aunt and uncle.

"Mr. Darcy's invited us for brunch, which is a blessing since there isn't a thing in the house," said Mrs. Gardiner. "Do you feel like coming?"

Elizabeth lifted her eyes to his. The haunted look was gone; he looked like the Darcy she knew from business. but -- gentler? more uncertain? maybe even nervous? But what could make him nervous? It was, after all, his island. He smiled hesitantly at her.

"Please, Ms. Bennet," he said.

She remembered suddenly the moment in the hotel ballroom at the PRIDE convention, when he had approached her to request their private conference the next morning. "Are you available tomorrow at ten a.m.?" he had asked. "Would you meet me in the Rosings room?" Her surprised nod earned her an abrupt thank you, and he had stalked off to another part of the room. He had been no more polite the next day. And now this.

Please. She smiled.

"It would be my pleasure," she said.

Part XI

Though Elizabeth accepted Darcy's brunch invitation, her thoughts were still much perturbed. She was thankful that her earlier rudeness on the beach and at the PRIDE conference was forgiven; confused by the abrupt change in his manner; pleased, by the same change; and even more confused, and not a little surprised, at her own new attraction toward him. (Never underestimate the appeal of a well-built real-estate mogul in Speedos.)

Her perturbation kept her silent for most of the brunch, but the space was merrily filled by her aunt and uncle. They asked about the history of the island and house, his family and business; yet all was done with such a sunny politeness and intelligence, that they could not fail to please, or to be answered.

"So this isn't quite the original house built by Nicholas Darcy?" Mr. Gardiner asked. They were seated in the back sunroom, looking out over the beach. Elizabeth had noted that there was a grand piano open at one end of the space.

"Not quite," Mr. Darcy admitted. "It's been through seven or eight hurricanes since Nicholas built it around 1860. But every Darcy rebuilds it as it was, with his or her own touches; and quite a lot of the furniture is the original stuff--some of it from the Pemberley in England." He paused. "There's a lovely portrait of Elizabeth Darcy, Nicholas' mother, hanging down the hall. You might like to see it, when we're finished here?" He seemed to direct this question to Elizabeth, and she nodded eagerly.

After the maid (Mrs. Renaldo's daughter) had cleared away the last of the dishes, Mr. Darcy said he would show them the way to the portrait; but Mrs. Gardiner asked the way to the powder room, while Mr. Gardiner confessed that he would rather linger over his coffee. Elizabeth instantly suspected her relatives of deliberately leaving her alone with their host, but said nothing.

She and Mr. Darcy wound their way down the halls, to the small foyer where the portrait of Elizabeth Darcy of Pemberley hung. Sir Joshua Reynolds painted her in her twelfth year of marriage: her slender figure had lost nothing with the birth of two children, nor did it hint at the two yet to come, and her yellow dress accented the tan glow of her skin and dark lustre of her curls. Her fine eyes sparkled with intelligence and mischief.

Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn felt an instant and unexplainable affinity for her. They could not possibly have had much in common; the modern Elizabeth had a career and choices never dreamt of by her Regency counterpart; surely the earlier Elizabeth had been interested mostly in marriage, and then in family. And yet...those eyes bespoke an independence startling for a woman of her age and station; and they did not merely smile, they laughed.

"What do you think of her?" asked Mr. Darcy quietly.

Elizabeth started. "Oh!" she said, with a half laugh. "I had almost forgotten you were here." She looked back at the portrait. "She looks like she was... more than what anyone expected of her, like you never really did know what to expect of her, except that it would be brilliant, but not cold brilliant, warm brilliant... and that she was happy." She hesitated. "I don't know. I feel... as if I know her somehow. Is that odd?"

"Not at all," Mr. Darcy said, still quietly, and watching her closely. "When I was a little boy, I would swear she was laughing at me when I passed down the hall, but laughing at me like a friend would... I worked it out: she's my great-great-great-great-great-grandmother. I used to call her that, my Grandmother Elizabeth, and have long conversations with this picture." He paused a moment. "And you're right. Our family histories say she was always happy."

They were both silent for several seconds, then he spoke again in a different voice. "Would you--and your aunt and uncle--care to join me for dinner tomorrow night?" he asked hesitantly. "Two more people would be joining us, one of them known to you: my sister Georgiana, and Charles Bingley."

Elizabeth flushed. "We would be very pleased to accept your offer," she replied.

"I look forward to it, then," he said, and smiled. She had never realized how deep a brown his eyes were.

Their private tête-à-tête was interrupted by Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, who had just remembered that Mr. Gardiner needed to take his heart medication at eleven. It was then ten forty-five. The gentlemen fixed an appointment for deep-sea fishing the next morning, on Mr. Darcy's boat (the Georgie Dee); then Mr. Darcy escorted them to a waiting Mercedes and chauffeur (who was, not surprisingly, a son of Mrs. Renaldo), put them into it, and stood there for some time, after the car drove away.

Part XII

The next two days passed slowly. After they left Pemberley House and her uncle took his medication, they shopped in Bellaville, then returned to the cottage for a quiet dinner and swim. Elizabeth remembered to send Jane a brief message with their fax number, but strangely enough, forgot to include any mention of Mr. Darcy and the morning's events. She went to bed early with a trashy romance novel, but couldn't concentrate, and finally threw it across the room and turned out the light.

Early the next morning, she surprised Mr. Gardiner with coffee as he prepared to meet Mr. Darcy for fishing. "Couldn't sleep," she replied to his questioning look. "Two sugars, right?"

"Yes," he said and sat down at the breakfast bar.

She placed the hot mug in from of him. "You really ought to give that up with your heart condition," she lectured. "Drink something more calming, like tea."

"And what are you having?" he retorted.

She showed him her mug. "Straight black," she confessed, and they both laughed. A companionable silence fell across the shadowy kitchen.

"Couldn't sleep, eh?" he said at last.

"No," said Elizabeth briefly. She set her mug down and busied herself cutting a bagel.

"Any reason why?" he remarked.

"None."

"Ah." He paused. "I'm looking forward to the fishing today."

"Oh yes?" She looked up. "Remember to wear your sunscreen--it's bright out there on the water."

"I'll do that, thanks," he said, amused. "Shall I tell Mr. Darcy to do that too?"

She returned determinedly to her bagel. "As you please."

"He certainly seems a nicer man than we first thought."

"Certainly."

"And to invite us to brunch, after just meeting us on the beach-- But of course you knew him quite well, didn't you?"

She looked up again. He could just make out a blush in the dim light. "Perhaps not 'quite well,' but we met often. Aren't you going to be late?"

"Yes," he said, and turned away to hid his grin.

Elizabeth was restless all day. Her aunt absolutely forbid her doing any business, so she spent the morning on the beach with the trashy novel, and the afternoon practicing her serve on the Elizabethsport public tennis courts. (She had played basketball briefly for Stanford, then gave it up after surgery on a torn ligament.) The tennis released some of her pent-up energy, but she still thrummed with nervousness as she dressed for dinner at Pemberley House.

Mr. Darcy sent another car and driver for them, which arrived precisely at 8 p.m. They arrived at their destination moments later. Mr. Darcy was waiting at the front door.

"Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner, Ms. Bennet." He smiled at each of them in turn. "I'm so glad you could come. Everyone's out back, on the deck--can I get you something to drink?"

They walked through the house. Elizabeth had steeled herself for seeing Bingley again, and was most interested in meeting Georgiana Darcy, of whom she'd heard so much; but when they reached the deck, the only person she saw was Caroline Bingley, who greeted her with the same enthusiasm she might have had for a hurricane at a beach party.

"Elizabeth, again." She nodded. "How are you?"

"Fine thanks," Elizabeth said, equally cool. "And you?"

"Fine, fine." Caroline shot her an insincere smile. "Isn't Pemberley lovely?"

"Gorgeous."

"Oh yes, always. But I've been here so many times, I'm afraid it's becoming a little passé. Don't you just hate that happening?"

Elizabeth was saved from making an extremely snide remark by the appearance of Bingley. He approached her with some embarrassment, and several apologies for his sudden disappearance from the merger; but she accepted these kindly, and soon set him at his ease. He asked how her club act was going.

"Wonderful, thank you. I'm working on a new arrangement of 'Nice Work If You Can Get It' right now--"

"You sing jazz?" Caroline asked sharply.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Yes, mostly standards."

"Well." The other woman looked back at the house. "I think I'll go see if William needs any help with the drinks." She left.

The other two stood a moment in embarrassed silence. "You know Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, of course," Lizzy said finally.

"Yes, of course!" He turned and greeted them, and they launched into a gleeful discussion about the shocking behavior of mutual acquaintances. Mrs. Gardiner skillfully noted that Jane had been very busy with work and hadn't dated anyone--oh, since last November, perhaps? Bingley appeared pleased by the news, but murmured only that he'd been much occupied by business as well. Lizzy smiled.

"Your drink, madame," said Mr. Darcy, materializing at her side.

She started, then laughed. "You keep appearing where I least expect you, Mr. Darcy."

"William, please. And I think the same could possibly be said of you."

"Elizabeth. Yes, and said truer."

Miss Bingley, in turn, had materialized behind Darcy. "You're at Janie Lambton's house, I understand?"

"Yes," said Elizabeth shortly. "She's away in England, working on a miniseries with Colin Firth."

"How fascinating!" She turned to Darcy. "Have you seen any of Colin Firth's movies, William? He's a simply won-derful actor."

"I can't say I have."

"You haven't! Maybe I'll get one and we can watch it later." She smiled suggestively.

"Maybe. Elizabeth" -- she heard the shy pause before he spoke her name -- "have you met everyone here? My sister Georgiana, especially?"

"I can't say I have," Elizabeth echoed. She caught a flash of ironic amusement in his eyes.

"Now that oversight I'm eager to fix. Excuse me for a moment." He moved away.

"When did you arrive?" Caroline asked, tight-lipped.

"Two nights ago."

"You must have really good contacts at Pemberley, to be able to arrive here before William did."

"What?" Elizabeth said.

"Not that he'd ever be interested in a little family business like yours," Caroline sneered. "My brother just barely escaped."

Lizzy maintained her composure. "Are you trying to imply that I followed Mr. Darcy down here in an attempt to get him to buy Bennet Development?"

"Didn't you though?" Miss Bingley smiled maliciously.

"Hmm." Elizabeth paused to consider this. "Well. Actually, I didn't; I didn't even know he lived here until we arrived. Jane Lambton invited my family down two months ago -- and unlike some people, we only come when we're invited."

Miss Bingley opened her mouth and shut it again. At this moment, Darcy reappeared, followed now by a tall, thin blonde woman. "Elizabeth," he said (less hesitantly than before), "please meet my sister, Georgiana Darcy. Georgie, Ms. Elizabeth Bennet."

Georgiana smiled warmly and held out her hand. "Ms. Bennet, William has said so much about you. He's a great admirer of your music -- and he's played it so much, so am I. Welcome to Pemberley."

"Thank you," said a very surprised Lizzy. "Call me Elizabeth, please."

"Georgiana." They clasped hands firmly and briefly. "Will you be staying long?"

"About two weeks."

"You must sing for us sometime. Later tonight, perhaps?"

"Perhaps." Lizzy looked at Mr. Darcy, who was beaming at the two of them, and felt a flash of inspiration. "Or -- do you play, William?"

"A little."

"Then perhaps you can play for us, too."

Georgiana leaned in conspiratorially. "Fifteen years piano lessons and he only plays 'a little.' Father would roll in his grave."

"And what about you and that obscene rock band?" William demanded. "You had eight years of violin and throw it away on electric guitar."

"What's your band's name?" Lizzy inquired.

He groaned, and Georgiana grinned. "Sorry, I'm not allowed to repeat it in public."

Elizabeth laughed.

"That maid says dinner is served," Miss Bingley said icily. She turned and stalked away. Mr. Darcy followed her slowly.

"Poor Caroline," Georgiana said in Lizzy's ear. "She wants William, and he just despises her. But she keeps showing up."

"I guess he figures that's purgatory, rather than hell."

"Guess so." They walked into the house together.

Elizabeth was seated to Mr. Darcy's right as he sat at the head of the long table; Mr. Bingley was on her other side. Her aunt and uncle rested across from her. Caroline was next to Mr. Bingley, and Georgiana presided at the foot. Conversation--about education, business, music, and current events--flowed smoothly around the table. Lizzy noticed that Miss Bingley was quiet most of the evening.

After a light dessert, the party moved back onto the deck, still talking and laughing. Finally it bubbled down to nothing, and they sat for a few minutes in comfortable silence.

Mr. Bingley ended the silence. "How about a little music, Elizabeth?" he asked. She protested, but William and Georgiana chimed in.

"Well, I need an accompanist," Lizzy relented.

"My pleasure," volunteered William. They moved back inside to the sunroom, and he arranged himself on the bench. Lizzy took her place in the dark curve of the piano. "What do you want to try first?"

Lizzy smiled at the assembled group. "Any audience requests?"

No one said anything for a moment. Then William spoke softly. "'I Didn't Know About You,' please."

She nodded, and he began to play. The music was melancholy, almost, but the lyrics spoke of a miracle wakening to a life of unforeseen pleasures. Lizzy sang it carefully, placing the emphasis on the delicate irony, the unexpected happiness:

I ran around with my own little crowd
The usual laughs, not often but loud
And what else could I do
I didn't know about you

She watched her audience as she sang. Caroline looked bored; Bingley lost in memory; the Gardiners and Georgiana admiring; and her accompanist, William Darcy, looked back, with his heart in his eyes.

How could I know about love
I didn't know about you...

She ended the song, her eyes still locked with his. He smiled slightly and finished with a few arpeggios.

Georgiana broke the spell with applause. "That was lovely!" she said sincerely.

"Thank you," said Elizabeth unsteadily.

"Now, 'Nice Work If You Can Get It,'" directed Bingley. "You said you were working on that."

"What speed?" William asked. "And with or without intro?" She told him, and he joined her after a few a capella verses.

The man who only lives for making money
Lives a life that isn't necessarily sunny
Likewise the man that works for fame
There's no guarantee that time won't erase his name

The fact is,
The only work that really brings enjoyment
Is the kind that is for girl and boy-ment
Fall in love, you won't regret it
That's the best work of all if you can get it.

Her training forbid her from putting the emphasis on "you" in "You can get it if you try," but her heart directed it at William.

Loving one who loves you
And then taking that vow
Nice work if you can get it
And if you get it
Won't you tell me how...

They ended to more applause. Georgiana wolf whistled, and Lizzy settled into the seat next to her.

"Now you," she said to William. "Please?"

"After your performance, what am I supposed to sing?" he asked teasingly.

"How about 'That Old Feeling?'" Georgiana suggested mischievously. Her brother gave her a look, then turned back to the keys. The room was quiet for a few moments.

"One good Gershwin deserves another," he said finally. His voice was rich and strong--not unlike the rest of him, Lizzy thought. Then she was lost in the song.

Listen to my tale of woe
It's terribly sad but true
All dressed up, no place to go
Each evening I'm awfully blue

I must win some handsome gal
Can't go on like this
I could blossom out I know
With somebody just like you -- so,

Oh sweet and lovely lady be good
Oh lady be good to me
I am so awfully misunderstood
So lady be good to me

Oh, please have some pity
I'm all alone in this big city

I tell you,
I'm just a lonesome babe in the wood
So lady be good to me.

He finished and looked up, though not directly at her--which was just as well. Lizzy thought her heart might burst out of her body.

"That was wonderful!!!" Miss Bingley exclaimed. Lizzy had thought she was asleep. "Just marvelous! Won't you play some more?"

"Look at the time!" said Mrs. Gardiner suddenly, and indeed, it was past one a.m. "I'm afraid we need to be getting home."

"It's been wonderful," her husband said. "Thank you, William and Georgiana."

"You're quite welcome," Georgiana said.

"Lizzy, you don't need to come with us," her aunt instructed. "Stay here with your friends if you want."

"No, I'd better come," she said shakily. "I'm pretty tired, and it'll save the driver."

"It's no problem," William interposed.

"No, I'd better go," said Lizzy, without looking at him. "Thank you."

He nodded briefly and showed them out to the car. He and Georgiana waved as they drove away; and Elizabeth turned, to watch the brightly lit house disappear into the night woods.

Part XIII

That night, Elizabeth dreamed of William. She pictured him in a tuxedo, dancing on an endless row of giant ivory piano keys and singing "Let's Fall in Love." As he reached the end of the song, he advanced toward her, his features growing larger and larger, till his face filled her entire dream-view. Lizzy's heart beat faster. His eyes closed; he leaned towards her...

"LIZ-ZY! Georgiana's here!"

Her aunt's voice cut off the swelling romantic soundtrack of her dream, and her eyes flew open to see not William Darcy, but her infinitely less interesting ceiling. She took a moment to recover from the first shock of disappointment, and then the second shock, that she felt disappointment; but on her aunt's calling her again, she got herself out of bed, dressed, and went downstairs.

She found the Gardiners and Georgiana in the kitchen, lingering over coffee. After the preliminary greetings, Miss Darcy asked, "Do you have plans for today, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth thought of her poorly-written trashy novel (something by a woman named Tennant) and eagerly answered in the negative.

"You said last night you play tennis?" Elizabeth nodded. "Then would you care to join Charles and Caroline and I? William's working, or so he says, and we'd love to have you as a fourth. And I'm most eager to get to know you better." She smiled.

"I'd love to!" cried Elizabeth. "Let me run upstairs and get my racquet... Or wait. Aunt Maddy, Uncle Edward, did you have anything planned for this morning?"

"Nothing except lying on the beach..." Mrs. Gardiner began, with a look at her husband.

"...maybe a little light reading, maybe just sunbathing," added her uncle, with a look back. Both looks confirmed that they had not forgotten they were on a secluded Caribbean island without children or responsibilities, nor had they forgotten the proper behavior in such situations--behavior that definitely did not include a little light reading.

"Well, then," said Elizabeth, suppressing a smile, "I'll be just a moment, Georgiana."

Mr. Gardiner was fixing margaritas as the young ladies made their escape.

Georgiana was a worse driver than even Mrs. Renaldo. As they careened around a Bellaville street corner and the Jeep wheels left the ground on one side again, Elizabeth clutched the door handle for dear life. Her new friend noticed.

"There are only ten cars on the whole island," she yelled over the wind, "and three of them are at the House, so it's perfectly safe!" Elizabeth somehow doubted it, but they were at the Bellaville courts soon enough. The Bingleys greeted them, they paired off for doubles-Lizzy and Charles vs. Georgiana and Caroline-and play began.

Caroline, somewhat to Lizzy's surprise was very good. She had both agility and aim, which was more than could be said for Georgiana; that lady's serves had power but no direction. Bingley's reach combined with Elizabeth's skill let them take the first set, but a couple of missed shots led to a Bingley-Darcy victory in the second. Bennet-Bingley captured the third set, but Georgiana's aim had improved with time and she and Caroline won the fourth and fifth rounds.

Caroline was preparing to serve match point on the deciding game when suddenly she stopped and waved. "William!" she called. "Hello! We're over here!"

Elizabeth turned. Indeed, he was advancing towards them in impeccable tennis whites-which suited him quite as well as her dream tuxedo, she thought. But that remembrance brought back others from the night before, and she was suddenly overcome with embarrassment. What had his behavior meant by the piano last night? For that matter, what had hers meant? And what had that dream meant? How should she behave now? She was attracted to him, she liked him--did she love him? Did he love her? Did she know the answers to any of these questions?

No, she didn't know, Elizabeth decided. And after that it was easy. She smiled at him and wished him good morning; he did the same, then being assured that this was the last set of the match, settled onto a nearby bench to observe.

Caroline smiled at him twice as she prepared to serve, and actually missed the ball the first time she threw it in the air, as she was attempting to watch the effect of her gracefulness upon him at the same time. "Oops," she simpered, and picked up the ball.

Her serve didn't go over the net. "Oops," she simpered again, and smiled coyly at Darcy. Elizabeth looked at her in amazement. Was she throwing the game in order to appear weak and feminine? Lizzy nearly gagged at the idea. But the impression-and her own team-gained ground. Caroline missed easy balls, lobbed soft shots right at her brother, and paid as much attention to her audience as to the ball, while flouncing about in her short pleated tennis skirt.

It was exactly, thought Elizabeth, how my mother must have behaved in the 1950s.

Bennet-Bingley came back and won the game, and eventually the match. They all shook hands, then Caroline flopped down next to William on the bench.

"Oh, William, I'm so tired," she moaned.

"I guess I'll have to ask Elizabeth to play instead, then," he replied. Her half-batted eyes opened wide, but he was already off the bench and smiling at Elizabeth. She smiled back.

"Let's go," she said.

Georgiana and Charles sprawled on the sidelines to watch. Caroline just pouted, then gave it up when no one paid any attention to her. The game was too good to miss. Elizabeth hadn't played two years on the Stanford tennis team for nothing, and William had been raised on Pemberley Inc.'s private tennis courts. Both served and swung to win.

"I can't believe she grunts when she hits the ball," snipped Caroline. "That's so vulgar."

"She's winning," Georgiana pointed out.

Caroline sniffed. "So much the worse. Come ON, William!"

Elizabeth was winning - first by several points, then suddenly several sets. She slammed another one over the net, then grinned hugely as William lunged for it and missed.

"Nice shot," he said.

"Thanks," she replied.

He didn't compliment her the next three times she used it on him.

"YEAH, William! You're coming back!" screamed Caroline.

"He's losing by two sets," said Georgiana. "There's no way."

"I can't be-lieve this," said Caroline, again.

Match point. Lizzy served, William dived; William pounded the ball, Lizzy tipped it; he snapped it back, she spun and hit. Finally she arched a shot just over the net that fell inches away from the edge of his racquet. They collapsed on opposite sides of the string barrier.

"Nice game," he panted.

"You too," she said.

"Do you usually play with guys?" he asked.

"Whoever's available," she replied. "Jane is better than I am."

"I'm not used to getting beat."

"Well," she said with a smile, "I'm pretty used to winning."

He raised his head and looked at her, then smiled back. "Would you go to dinner with me tonight?"

Lizzy startled at the change of subject. "What?"

"Or we could go with your aunt and uncle and Georgiana and everyone, I mean, it doesn't have to be just the two of us, I just thought it might be nice-" he stammered.

She tipped her head and looked at him, and smiled again. "I think it would be nice too," she said. "Just the two of us."

"Okay then," he said, and a real smile washed over his face. "Okay."

Continued in Section II

Appendix

Let's Call the Whole Thing Off
by George and Ira Gershwin

Intro:
Things have come to a pretty pass
Our romance is growing flat
For you like this and the other
While I go for this and that
Goodness knows what the end will be
Oh I don't know where I'm at
It looks as if we two will never be one
Something must be done

Verse:
You say ee-ther, and I say eye-ther
You say nee-ther and I say nie-ther
Ee-ther, eye-ther
Nee-ther, nie-ther
Let's call the whole thing off
You like po-tay-toes, and I like po-tah-toes
You like to-may-toes, and I like to-mah-toes
Po-tay-toes, po-tah-toes
To-may-toes, to-mah-toes
Let's call the whole thing off

Bridge:
Oh, but if we call the whole thing off, then we must part,
Oh, and if we ever part, oh, that would break my heart
So you like pa-jam-as, and I like pa-jom-as,
I'll wear pa-jam-as, and give up pa-jom-as
For we, know we
Need each other so we
Better call the calling-off off
Oh, let's call the whole thing off!

But Not For Me
by George and Ira Gershwin

They're writing songs of love
But not for me
A lucky star's above
But not for me
With love to lead the way
I've found more clouds of gray
Than any Russian play
Could guarantee

I was a fool to fall and get that way
Heigh-ho, alas, and also lackaday
Although I can't resist
The memory of his kiss
I guess he's not for me

It all began so well, but what an end
This is the time a lady needs a friend
When every happy plot
Ends with the marriage knot
And there's no knot for me

Come Rain or Come Shine
by Harold Arlen and Johnny Mercer

I'm gonna love you
Like nobody's loved you
Come rain or come shine
High as a mountain
Deep as a river
Come rain or come shine

I guess when you met me
It was just one of those things
But don't ever bet me
Cause I'm gonna be true
If you let me

You're gonna love me
Like nobody's loved me
Come rain or come shine
Happy together
Unhappy together
And won't it be fine

Days may be cloudy or sunny
We're in or we're out of the money
But I'm with you always
I'm with you rain or shine

Yes, I'm with you always
I'm with you rain or shine
Come rain or shine

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
by Harold Arlen and T. Koehler

I don't want you
But I'd hate to lose you
You've got me in between the devil and the deep blue sea

I forgive you
'Cause I can't forget you
You've got me in between the devil and the deep blue sea

I ought to cross you off my list
But when you come a-knockin' at my door
Fate seems to give my heart a twist
And I come running back for more

I should hate you
But I guess I love you
You've got me in between the devil and the deep blue sea

I ought to cross you off my list
But when you come a-knockin' at my door
Fate seems to give my heart a twist
And I come running back for more

I should hate you
But I guess I love you
You've got me in between the devil and the deep blue sea
You've got me in between the devil and the deep blue sea
The devil and the deep blue sea

(As recorded by Dick Haymes on the Capitol CD "Over the Rainbow: Capitol Sings Harold Arlen")

Angel Eyes
by Earl Brent and Matt Dennis

Try to think that love's not around
But it's uncomfortably near
My old heart ain't gaining no ground
Because my Angel Eyes ain't here

Angel Eyes
That old devil-sent
They glow unbearably bright
Need I say
That my love's misspent
Misspent with Angel Eyes tonight

So drink up all you people
Pardon anything you see
Have fun, you happy people
The laugh's and the joke's on me

Pardon me
But I've gotta run
The fact's uncommonly clear
Gotta find
Who's now number one

And why my Angel Eyes
Oh where is my Angel Eyes
Excuse me while I disappear

Angel Eyes...

(As recorded by Ella Fitzgerald on the Verve CD "The Essential Ella Fitzgerald: The Great Songs")

I Didn't Know About You
by Duke Ellington and Bob Russell

If they should ask me
I would say
I haven't a thrill or two
But that was many years ago
Before I met you

I ran around with my own little crowd
The usual laughs, not often but loud
And what else could I do
I didn't know about you

Chasing after the rain
On a merry-go-round
Taking my fun
Where it could be found
How could I know about love
I didn't know about you

Now I know I had the loneliest yesterdays
Everyday
In your arms I know for once in my life
I'm living

I had a good time
Every time I went out
Romance was a thing
I kidded about
How could I know about love
I didn't know about you

Now I know I had the loneliest yesterdays
Everyday
In your arms I know for once in my life
I'm living

I had a good time
Every time I went out
Romance was a thing
I kidded about
How could I know about love
I didn't know about you

How could I know about love
I didn't know about you

(as sung by Karrin Allyson on the Concord recording "I Didn't Know About You")

Nice Work If You Can Get It
by George and Ira Gershwin

Intro
The man who only lives for making money
Lives a life that isn't necessarily sunny
Likewise the man that works for fame
There's no guarantee that time won't erase his name

The fact is,
The only work that really brings enjoyment
Is the kind that is for girl and boy-ment
Fall in love, you won't regret it
That's the best work of all if you can get it

Chorus
Holding hands at midnight
Neath a starry sky
Nice work if you can get it
And you can get it if you try

Strolling with the one boy
Sighing sigh after sigh
Nice work if you can get it
And you can get it if you try

Verse
Just imagine someone
Waiting at the cottage door
Where two hearts become one
Who could ask for anything more

Chorus
Loving one who loves you
And then taking that vow
Nice work if you can get it
And if you get it
Won't you tell me how

Just imagine someone
Waiting at the cottage door
Where two hearts become one
Who could ask for anything more

Loving one who loves you
And then taking that vow
Nice work if you can get it
And if you get it
Won't you tell me how

(As recorded by Ella Fitzgerald on the Verve CD "Ella Fitzgerald: The Songbooks")

That Old Feeling
by Brown and Fam

That Old Feeling
by Brown and Fam

I saw you last night
And got that old feeling
When you came in sight
I got that old feeling
The moment that you danced by
I felt a thrill
But Lordy, when you caught my eye,
Don't you know my heart stood still

Once again I seemed
To feel that old yearning
And I knew that spark of love
Was still burning
There'll be no new romance for me
It's foolish to start
Because that old feeling
Don't you know, is still in my heart

Once again I seemed
To feel that old yearning
And I knew that spark of love
Was still burning
There'll be no new romance for me
It's foolish to start
Because that old feeling
I said, that old feeling
Oh yes, that old feeling
It's still, yes,
Yes it's still, still in my heart

(As sung by the great Dinah Washington on "American Legends: Dinah Washington")

Oh, Lady Be Good
by George and Ira Gershwin

Listen to my tale of woe
It's terribly sad but true
All dressed up, no place to go
Each evening I'm awfully blue

I must win some handsome gal
Can't go on like this
I could blossom out I know
With somebody just like you -- so,

Oh sweet and lovely lady be good
Oh, lady be good
To me
I am so awfully misunderstood
So, lady be good
To me

Oh, please have some pity
I'm all alone in this big city

I tell you
I'm just a lonesome babe in the wood
So lady be good
To me

Oh, please have some pity
I'm all alone in this big city

I tell you
I'm just a lonesome babe in the wood
So lady be good
To me

Oh, lady be good
To me

(As recorded -- with one minor modification -- by Ella Fitzgerald on the Verve CD "Ella Fitzgerald: The Songbooks." Copyright 1924 New World Music Corp. Copyright renewed, all rights reserved.)

Let's Fall in Love
by Ted Koehler and Harold Arlen

Let's fall in love
Why shouldn't we fall in love?
Our hearts are made of it
Let's take a chance
Why be afraid of it?

Let's close our eyes
And make our own paradise
Little we know of it
Still we can try
To make a go of it

We might have been meant for each other
To be or not to be
Let our hearts discover

Let's fall in love
Why shouldn't we fall in love?
Now is the time for it
While we are young
Let's fall in love

--As sung by Nat King Cole on the Capitol CD "Over the Rainbow: Capitol Sings Harold Arlen" Copyright 1933 The Bourne Co., renewed.