Benjamin had worked on the article for about a week and still was getting nowhere fast. His boss had threatened him with a loss of a job if this column was not finished by the end of the week. Cynthia had goaded him into writing a reworking of the famous novel Pride and Prejudice. She said most people would never get it if he had brought it up to the present time.

Ben's problem was coming up with completely different names. How many people in the world know Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy? When at cocktail parties he would casually bring up Jane Austen and it seemed the whole party would know exactly what he was talking about. Mr. Grant thought it was a wonderful idea. Strange, but wonderful.

Cynthia knew it could not be done. But then Cynthia couldn't do much. Yeah, she was good for Ben at first, but he soon tired of her. She still kept her claws in deep. Benjamin read everything he could on Jane Austen. And he read all her novels. Mansfield Park being his least favorite.

'Cynthia, would you mind proofing my copy tonight?' Pleaded Ben. Cynthia rolled her eyes and finally agreed after Ben promised her it would be worth it.

'What I do for you, sir' Said and exasperated Cindy. He patted her hand and pinched her rump. She knew exactly what he had in plan.

Ben thought it was wonderful just to get her off his back.

'Ben, what the hell is this garbage." yelled Cynthia through the cel phone. 'Are we really to believe that a rich woman would possibly turn down an invitation by an extremely handsome man. And what's this role reversal that you've done with the story?' Ben smiled and told her it was the only way he could write the story to his satisfaction and have it so that no one knew he was reworking Austen's great masterpiece.

'Listen Cin, I don't really care if you like it or not. I'm doing this article, thanks to you, by the way. And I will write what I want.' Ben's face was red and he gruffly hung up the phone.

Jon Grant thought the two lovebirds were hilarious working together. Ben had tried to get Jon to not include Cynthia in this article, but Jon said he knew talent when he saw it and forced Ben to live with it.

With all the preparation that went into coming up with a completely revamped Pride and Prejudice, Jon thought that Ben and Cin would have an easier time if he flew them to Derbyshire and get the feel of the land. Ben and Cynthia flew coach together and by the end of the trip Ben practically had his arms around her neck.

At Terminal 4, Quentin Reed stood at the arrivals gate with Zoey Laughton. Both were eagerly anticipating the arrival of Ben and Cynthia. The two of them were the foremost experts of Austenian detail in all of Europe. Zoey clung onto Quent's arm with a sign acknowledging Ben and Cynthia.

'Do you think these Americans are going to be frightful. I still cannot believe he is rewriting her novel. And in an article form. What heresy.' Quent laughed and told her that things would be fine. 'Indeed, fine.' she turned from him and saw a man and a woman heading toward them.

'Well my dear I believe they have arrived.' Quent stuck out his hand to shake Ben and Cynthia hands. Zoey looked at Cynthia rolled her eyes then looked at Ben and turned away. Quent was the first one to speak. 'I hope the flight went well. I know how excruciating coach can be, but British Airways does do there best, indeed, to make a passenger happy.'

'Darling, they look positively exhausted, we need to fill them up with tea, lots of tea. We have you booked in an economy hotel near the British Museum. For some ungodly reason, every good hotel in London has no vacancies.' Zoey's evil eye seemed to be working in overtime.

Ben looked questioningly at Zoey and thought that possibly the early morning arrival might have set her off. He heard that the British could be quite standoffish, but she was unbelievable. He wondered how Quent and she could possibly be married.

Cynthia saw a coffee shop and begged Quent to let her have at least one cup. Zoey sighed and Ben nodded in agreement. 'You must remember that Ben and I are working on East coast time, so right now I should be snoozing in my bed, not traipsing through this huge airport.' Cynthia sneered back at the woman. Ben's eyes laughed as did Quent's. Quietly Ben asked Quent why the claws has come out. Quent could only stifle a laugh.

Cynthia's abuses of Zoey increased as her tiredness did. Ben poured over the dozen or so books that Quent had laid out for them. One point of interest that had held Ben's attention was the detail that Jane Austen had used in describing the house of Pemberley, he knew that the house was fictional but something grabbed at him and would not let go.

'Ben, darling I am really too tired to be staring at words. What say you about sleeping today. I am wasted, really.' Ben looked right past Cynthia and murmured that she could leave if she wanted to. 'Ben, sometimes you are so insufferable!' And with that she left the museum.

Not long after her absence did Zoey show up with scones and a fresh pot of tea. She did see how weary Ben was looking and wanted to apologise for her rude behaviour earlier in the day. Ben profusely thanked Zoey and gulped down the tea and polished off the scone. Not one talked for a full ten minutes.

'I have noticed something that I don't believe anyone has seen before. When Miss Austen is describing Pemberley she seems to take pains in perfectly outfitting this house. I mean you can't just create a house with woods and furniture without actually seeing it beforehand.' His manner of speech was rapid telling Zoey that he was excited about this discovery.

'Ben, what you are saying is not making any sense. Of course, someone can just describe a house. It's her creative genius.'

'I knew you would say this, but here look at what I have underlined.' She moved closer to him and could smell the mixture of sweat mingled with the cologne he had put on the day before. The sweetness of it made her start a little and move away, a little. She looked at the words that Ben was talking about and still she saw nothing. 'Zoey, Mrs. Laughton, can you not plainly see the description of the beauty and the house. That house does exist!'

Zoey seemed quite put off by being called Mrs. Laughton and admonished him instantly. 'First things first Mr. Taylor, I am not married, and Pemberley does not exist. Such a notion. Americans!' she turned her back to him and promptly exited the room leaving Ben to scratch his head.

Quent stole quietly into an alcove above the room where the examination room was, and presently listened to the conversation that was taking place below. He sensed that Ben was on to something and was quite disconcerted to find that an American may just find what he has been looking years for. He too believed that Pemberley existed and he searched Derbyshire for ten years but to no avail. He was certain that Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet were real and true people.

Quent listened intently to Zoey and Ben. He saw the spark between the two of them, but thought it too dangerous for them to continue this sort of foreplay. It would not do, for Zoey to become intimate with this man was reprehensible. Quent's face turned a bright red and he did not notice that Zoey had left the room downstairs and was now in the doorway to the secret alcove.

'What, pray tell, has got your blood pressure rising so high, Mr. Reed?' her coyness drove him crazy. He quickly pulled her close to him and passionately kissed her, then angrily cautioned her about getting involved with Ben Taylor. She laughed at him.

'I never detected any sort of jealousy. You have not a thing to worry about, it seems that Cynthia Nelson has a very tight hold on him. I would not want to injure her in any way.'

'What did Ben show you down there. Why does he think that Pemberley must have existed?' Quent showed concern and Zoey comforted him.

'Darling, he's onto nothing now. Its plain rubbish. To think that fictionalized characters existed is rubbish. You of all people should know that.' Quent turned to the glass and watched Ben pouring over all the books. 'I guarantee you he has nothing.'

Ben found exactly what he was looking for and pulled out the cel phone that Jon Grant had given him to report back any findings that was relevant to this article. Jon had not one idea how intriguing this article was going to be. Ben dialed the number and patiently waited for Jon to answer.

'Better be good.' Was the response on the other side of the Atlantic.

'Jon, Ben here. I have definitely found something worth relating in the article. I seemed to have stumbled onto a fact that Jane Austen wrote about a REAL family. I know this sound pretty absurd, but I can see the angle now.' Ben was laughing into the phone and Quent was burning with curiosity.

'Ben, this has got to be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. This book is almost two hundred years old and the original people are long dead. What angle could you possibly be going for?'

'That's it, Jon, I can't tell you, yet. But I will. I'll have to take off as soon as possible. Oh, blast. Can you call Cin at the hotel.' He paused and dug through his jeans looking for the name and number of the place where they would be staying. 'She's at the Clark Motel (011) 141 555555. Listen as soon as I get more info I'll call you. Oh, tell her to meet me in Piccadilly Circus. Better yet tell her to haul ass.' And with that he terminated the call.