Section I, Next Section

Posted on Sunday, 12 December 1999

William Darcy entered the darkened theatre with a certain degree of trepidation. He still hadn't decided whether a job like this was quite right for him, and the incomprehensible activity fluttering all around him was not reassuring. The stage was lit by what he would learn to call a worklight, and the wings were opened up so that the various crew members could move around uninhibited. On the stage itself, a petite woman in jeans and a sweater was calling out seemingly nonsensical instructions to someone up above her. William followed her gaze and saw two men hanging precariously from the lighting equipment over the stage. "Go 180 on the specials!" the woman called.

Before he could wonder too much what that meant, his thoughts were interrupted by an ear-piercing squeal. "William!"

Oh, lord, he thought, here she comes. "Caroline," he said with a weak attempt at feigned enthusiasm. "Here you are."

Caroline Bingley came rushing down the aisle from the back of the theatre, flapping her arms eagerly as if trying to take off. "I'm so glad you're here," she gushed with a wave of her filmy scarf, "everyone is just dying to meet you." She turned her attention to the stage and shouted, "Jane!"

The woman on the stage turned and squinted into the auditorium. "Caroline?"

"Could you call the kids, dear?" Caroline requested in a rather simpering tone. "Dr. Darcy is here." William decided he didn't like her condescending attitude at all.

Jane, as she was apparently called, didn't seem to appreciate it either, but she turned wearily to one of the men on the sidelines. "Frank?" she asked, in a way that indicated she was quite friendly with the crew. "Would you page the dancers please? The monitor should be on." The man waved to her and picked up a headset, speaking into it quietly. As he did so, Jane slid off the edge of the stage and came to greet William.

"Dr. Darcy," she said, extending her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Jane Bennet, one of the resident lighting designers. You should know that we on the crew are looking forward to your services as well as our colleagues."

William decided that he liked her open, friendly manner and smiled at her conspiratorially. "You can be the first, Miss Bennet."

"Jane," she corrected.

"Jane," he amended. "And please, I'm William."

"Great," she said with a cheerful smile. "Well, William, everyone should be up in just a minute. They're all looking forward to meeting you; this is going to be quite a luxury for them. Have you met anyone yet?"

"Only you, and I knew Charles before. Oh," he rolled his eyes so that only Jane could see, "and Caroline."

Jane hid a smile. "Yes, of course, I forgot that it was Charles who told you about the position." At that moment, all conversation was stopped by a mass movement of people onto the stage. Young men and women, mostly women, in various types of worn exercise clothes piled onto the stage and, as if by some prior agreement, settled themselves on the floor. The crew took no notice but continued to work around them, as if such upheavals were an ordinary part of the day. After a moment, they were joined by a few slightly older-looking people. One of them, a man in his sixties, stepped forward to address the crowd. He was dressed more conservatively, in a white shirt and khaki pants, and seemed strong and vigorous despite his apparent age.

"Okay, everyone," the man said, "thanks for getting up here so quickly." He turned toward the auditorium and squinted as Jane had done. "Dr. Darcy? Would you come up here with us please?"

At the sound of his voice William recognized the man as Adam Carlisle, the artistic director with whom he had spoken several times on the phone. He quickly made his way to the stage, with Jane and (God help him) Caroline following close behind.

"Nice to meet you in person finally," Mr. Carlisle said, offering his hand. He turned back to the crowd on the stage. "This is Dr. William Darcy, our new resident physician, injury therapist, and all-around good guy. He will quickly become your favorite person around here, I promise." The crowd laughed in appreciation. Mr. Carlisle continued with a little hand wave, "I'm sure you will join me in welcoming Dr. Darcy to City Ballet." To William's surprise, the dancers applauded.

"Now, Dr. Darcy," Mr. Carlisle went on, "let me take a minute and get you acquainted. You seem to have met Jane." William nodded and smiled at the young woman. "And this here is Mark Denny, our other lighting designer. You won't be seeing them too much, actually. This lady here," indicating a woman of about thirty with a rather pretentious air, "is Louisa Hurst, one of our costume mistresses, and her sister Caroline Bingley is the other one." Caroline's sister - that explained a lot. "Madeleine Gardiner is our ballet mistress - her husband Edward is in charge of the crew." The Gardiners were a pleasant-looking couple in their early forties. Carlisle moved quickly through the rest of the introductions, as William mentally categorized and catalogued them: Charlotte Lucas - repertoire teacher, about thirty, nice smile; Mary Bennet - rehearsal pianist, sour, hard to believe she was Jane's little sister; Susan Phillips - teacher of younger dancers, a little silly; Andrew Saunderson - stage manager, sweet if a bit retiring; Mary King - scene designer, small and redheaded. William resigned himself to the fact that he would never remember all those names and let them go. Finally his friend Charles Bingley arrived, bringing with him two men whose names William knew he should make note of. Charles was one of the producer/managers of City Ballet, which many people guessed to be the way his sisters Louisa and Caroline managed to work there. The other producers were nice enough - William Lucas, Charlotte's father, had entered the business only after his daughter did in a sort of reverse nepotism, and Steven Forster was a pleasant, amiable sort of man with not a lot of money but enough sense to make up for its lack. Charles Bingley had first told William that City Ballet wanted to hire a resident doctor when he knew his friend was wanting to give up hospital shifts.

After the endless round of introductions had finally ceased, Carlisle led William downstairs to his new office beneath the stage. It had two rooms: a smallish waiting area and an inner room with a chair, a high stool, a massage table, and some cabinets. "It's not fancy," Carlisle apologized, "it used to be a principal dressing room. But it has what you need."

"Well now," came Caroline's voice out of nowhere, "I for one would be very anxious to try it out, eh William?"

"You're quite right, Caroline," he said, thinking fast. "So if you'll all excuse me, I'm anxious to settle in." And with that, he ushered Caroline and all the others to the door.

Alone at last. William was just beginning to look through the cabinets when his attention was diverted by a piercing shriek from somewhere in the vicinity. He ran out into the hallway, yelling, "What happened?"

Madeleine Gardiner emerged from a room nearby and said, "It came from the small studio."

"And that would be?"

She smiled understandingly. "You'll soon learn. The small studio is on this floor, down that corridor past all the dressing rooms. It's where the younger corps rehearses when they're not with the larger company."

"And they rehearse with?"

"Susan Phillips." Madeleine wasn't able to say more, because at that moment Susan herself appeared in the hallway. She was moving quickly toward William's office and half-dragging, half-carrying a teenaged girl in tights and leotard.

"Lydia, what happened?" Madeleine asked solicitously.

The girl heaved a deep breath and looked at William. "I don't know, Ms. Mad'leine. I think I twisted my ankle."

"I'll take it from here, Ms. Phillips," William said. He reached over and transferred the young dancer's weight to his own shoulders. She hung on him rather heavily as the dance teacher corrected, "It's Susan." William gave her a cursory nod as he escorted the dancer into his inner office.

"What was your name again?" he asked as he helped her onto the massage table.

"Lydia." She looked much less upset and was watching him with an unsettling curiosity. When he looked back, he noticed that she had draped her leg rather suggestively over the table. He walked past the table on his way to the cabinet and bumped her supposedly twisted ankle. She didn't even wince. William sighed - it was going to be a long day.

"And besides the ballet thing," William vented to Charles a few hours later, "Am I the only eligible man in this place? I've had no less than four dancers fake injuries today just to get into my office - and only three of them were female."

"They'll settle down," Charles said with a smile.

"No, really. I haven't had one real medical problem yet. I think I'm detracting from rehearsal time rather than making things easier." Just as the words left his mouth, someone ran past his office, calling, "Up on the stage, quick!"

"Oh, Lord," William said. "It's getting worse."

"What?" Charles asked.

"Don't the principals rehearse on the stage sometimes?" At Charles's nod, William said, "I've only had younger dancers so far. Now the principals are after me, too?"

"How do you know it was an accident?"

William sighed. "I just do. She - or he - will be down here in approximately nine seconds, claiming to have twisted a ankle or gotten a foot cramp or, if they're really daring, pulled a hamstring. Wait and see."

Sure enough, Madeleine appeared at the door in record time. "William? I'm afraid I have another one for you."

"Oh, good," William muttered. "Another pseudo-professional who's too plain to find a boyfriend on her own time and uses company time instead." Too late he realized that his patient had already entered the office, and was glaring at him as if he had an extra head. "Um, hi," he said, completely unable and unwilling to formulate an excuse.

"Sorry to bother you, Doctor," she spat out, "but I didn't think I could walk this one off." She held out her hand and William gasped - it was dripping with blood. She was actually catching the blood with her other hand to avoid getting it on the floor.

"Elizabeth, what happened?" Charles asked, paling at the sight.

"Flung out my arm and caught a nail on the backdrop," the dancer explained as William ushered her hastily into the inner office. She glared at him again. "I really wanted to meet Dr. Darcy."

William tried to ignore this comment as he looked at her hand, holding it over a sink. "We might get away without stitches - Elizabeth?" She nodded stiffly. "Let me just get a couple butterflies - don't move." He left her holding her hand over the sink and assembled supplies, trying not to focus on the bright eyes burning holes in the back of his head. As he carefully cleaned the wound, he noticed that her hand was shaking dangerously. "Do you feel faint?" he asked brusquely.

"No," Elizabeth replied. He looked at her carefully - she was paler than she had been a minute ago and her eyes were glazed.

"Oh, no," William said to himself. "Hang in there for me, okay? I'm almost done and then you can sit down." He wrapped the hand as quickly as possible and managed to finish just before she fainted.

"Charles, help!" William called out as he caught Elizabeth in his free arm. With Charles's help he managed to lift her onto the massage table. By the time he had located the smelling salts, she had awakened on her own. "Don't sit up," William warned as he saw her trying. She obeyed for a moment, but soon pushed herself to a sitting position.

"I'm fine," she said testily when she saw him about to protest. "I'm sorry about that - didn't mean to be so much trouble."

"That's what I'm here for," William said, feeling desperately embarrassed about his earlier comment.

"Oh, really?" She turned the full force of her intense gaze on him. "I thought it was to find boyfriends for plain girls?" She began to slide off the table.

"Stop that!" William looked up in alarm as someone else spoke the same words with him. Madeleine crossed to Elizabeth's side and pushed her back down onto the table. "Down, young lady." She turned to William and said, "One of the things you'll have to learn quickly is the dancers' medical histories. Lizzy has low blood pressure - if she's bleeding or dehydrated you should know to prepare for a faint. It's especially bad when she's dancing an intense role like this one." To Elizabeth she said, "Honey, you can't rehearse lifts with that hand anyway. Nancy will step in - you take some time and rest. Drink a little. Come back when Dr. Darcy says you're ready, and no sooner. Understand?" Elizabeth nodded weakly and Madeleine returned to her rehearsal with Charles at her heels. He blew Elizabeth a kiss before he left.

William looked at Elizabeth for a moment, not knowing what to say to her. "Charles seems popular around here," he said finally.

"He's very nice," she said rather quietly.

"Yes, he is."

There was a long pause. "He's going out with my sister."

"Really?" Charles hadn't mentioned anyone.

"Yeah. She works here. Jane Bennet."

Jane was Elizabeth's sister? "The lighting designer?"

"Yeah."

"We met this morning." That complicated things even further - William liked Jane and didn't want her thinking he had willfully insulted her sister. But why hadn't Charles mentioned that he was seeing someone from the company? "You should have some orange juice or something - do I have a fridge?"

"You should have one out in the waiting area," Elizabeth informed him, "but really, don't bother."

He knew he should apologize for what she had heard, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Anyway, it wouldn't do to seem weak to the dancers if they were going to trust his advice. William simply ducked out into the waiting room and found a refrigerator well-stocked with juice, bottled water, and ice packs. He grabbed an orange juice and headed back to the inner office. Elizabeth sat up as he handed her the juice, and he really looked at her for the first time. He was shocked at how young she appeared in this vulnerable state. Her face had paled so much that blue veins showed in her forehead and the side of her cheek; her skin had become almost translucent. She had been biting her lips, so they were swollen and deep red in comparison to her skin. Her eyes appeared almost black from far away, but up close he could tell that they were very dark blue. She had at first glance appeared to be wearing a great deal of eye makeup, but he could now see that she wasn't wearing any. Her lashes were very long and dark, and exhaustion combined with blood loss had created dark smudges under her eyes which were almost eerie but somehow not unattractive. Strands of very light brown hair had come loose from her bun and fell in soft tendrils around her face. Like most of the dancers at City Ballet she was very thin, but muscle kept her weight from looking unhealthy. Nevertheless, when she was pale like this it was painfully apparent that her collarbone and ribs showed through her skin. She was too thin and pale to be traditionally pretty; her hair was not a particularly interesting color and her eyes were too dark for her face. In spite of all this, something about Elizabeth was striking - almost beautiful, really. The softness of her hair and the sparkle in her eyes saved her from the vampiric appearance she might otherwise have had, and the more he looked at her the more William saw the resemblance to Jane.

"Do I pass inspection?" Elizabeth asked. William was momentarily disconcerted as he realized he'd been staring.

"You're looking a little better," he said. "You're still a little pale."

Elizabeth smiled ruefully. "I'm always a little pale. Can I go back to rehearsal?"

"You can go and watch if you feel all right," he replied. "I don't want you dancing until after lunch." Something about her reaction made him add, "And I want you to eat lunch today."

Insult or not, he had obviously earned her professional respect. He got no argument this time, only a slight nod.

"And of course no dancing with men," he added.

Elizabeth laughed. "Will testosterone injure my hand?" she asked teasingly.

"You know what I mean. No - what do you call it?"

"Partnering?" she suggested.

"Yes. Nothing that touches that hand. Got it?"

She saluted in response and turned to leave. Curiosity got the better of him and he called, "Oh, Elizabeth?"

She turned around again. "Yeah?"

"How old are you?" She gave him a quizzical look and he added, "For my records."

"For your records then, I'm twenty-three. Bye!" She waved her bandaged hand at him and disappeared into the hall.

Part II

Posted on Monday, 13 December 1999

William's first day had been truly hectic and definitely rather nerve-wracking, and at the end of it he was looking forward to going home. As he was packing up, however, he was surprised by Charles in his doorway.

"How'd Day One go?" Charles asked brightly.

William sighed. "Well, aside from Elizabeth I didn't have one real medical problem, but other than that it was great."

"Good," Charles said, oblivious to William's frustration. "Come to dinner with us?"

"Who's 'us?'"

He could have sworn that Charles blushed just a bit. "Me, and the other producers and designers and directors for this production."

Aha. "Would 'designers' include Jane Bennet?"

There was that blush again. "It would."

So Elizabeth had been right after all. "Charles, you never told me about Jane."

Charles raked a hand through his curly blond hair. "I was waiting for you to meet her. Do you like her?"

"I don't see how anyone could not," William responded. "She's very pretty, she seems good at what she does, and she's a nice girl."

"She is beautiful, isn't she?" Charles sighed. "Elizabeth does look a bit like her."

"Jane is beautiful; Elizabeth is striking," William clarified. "She lacks Jane's softness."

"You haven't seen her dance," Charles said with a smile. "Whatever you might think of her offstage, Elizabeth is one of the most beautiful soloists I've ever seen."

William shrugged into his coat. "Then I guess I'll have to reserve judgment. I think I will join you for dinner - I need to have another talk with this Jane of yours."

William followed Charles to the back dining room of one of the city's finest restaurants. The maitre d' was obviously used to having them; he showed them immediately to a large table (probably two pushed together) and left them to their meeting. They were not the first to arrive - at first glance William saw Mr. Lucas and Mr. Forster, both of the Gardiners, Andrew the stage manager, Miss King the scene designer, Jane Bennet, and Caroline Bingley.

"Sit down, sit down," Mr. Lucas urged. "The others should be here any minute."

"Others?" William asked. It already looked like the largest board meeting in history.

"Charlotte is still drilling the principals," Madeleine answered. "They'll be along shortly."

William turned to Charles in some confusion. "Are there dancers at your meetings too?"

"Forster's idea," Charles replied. "He likes the company to run as a smooth unit, with as few surprises for the dancers as possible. A couple of the principals are usually at these large meetings. We like having their input."

At that precise moment, Charlotte Lucas entered the dining room with a young woman in a black dress who was introduced as Nancy Rey, the second soloist. Nancy had fair good looks that reminded William a little bit of his own younger sister. Just as Charlotte and Nancy were sitting down, the door to the dining room opened again. William looked up and, to his consternation, saw Elizabeth Bennet and a young man.

"Sorry we're late," the man said, sliding into a chair beside Nancy.

Elizabeth smiled wryly at William as she took the only seat open - directly across from him. He noted the difference in her appearance when she wore street clothes: she was wearing tailored pants and a black shirt that complemented her unusual figure, and her hair had been released to fall in waves around her shoulders. He had to admit she was looking well.

"William," Charles said to get his attention, "you've met Elizabeth, our principal dancer for this production, and this is Brian Kelly, the other principal." Brian acknowledged him with a nod.

"Not to interrupt," Edward Gardiner said, "but I'm a little confused about Dr. Darcy's role here."

"I can answer that," said Mr. Lucas. "We decided that a full-time physician would be beneficial to the company in order to save rehearsal time running to doctors. Other companies of our size have orthopedic doctors or therapists; we thought we'd try a little experiment. Plus, as you all know, we had four emergency room runs last season which might have been avoided had we had someone on staff qualified to handle medical issues."

"Anyway," Charles put in, "it was lucky we had him this afternoon when Elizabeth was injured."

Everyone had to agree with that. William relaxed in his chair; for a moment he'd thought people were going to argue his appointment.

He was impressed, as the meal went on, with the professionalism of his new coworkers. Charles ran the meeting quite efficiently, and proved himself adept at handling everyone's comments.

He began by explaining to William what exactly was going on. "In case you were wondering, William, these meetings are primarily to assess how the overall production is coming. Your job is to tell us how the dancers are reacting physically to the rehearsal schedule, the pieces, and so forth. I know you've only been working for a day, but we wanted to get you into the swing of things.

"The ballet we're rehearsing right now is 'Giselle' - talk to Charlotte if you want to know what it's about. Jane's doing lights, Caroline costumes, Mary scenery, and Andrew backstage. Lizzy and Brian are the principals on this one; when we start performing Nancy will dance Lizzy's part once a week instead of her own."

"Do you dance Nancy's part, then?" William asked Elizabeth.

"No, one of the corps dancers does."

"Why is that?"

Charles answered. "The lead in 'Giselle' is one of the most demanding, physically and emotionally. We've found in the past that dancers burn out if they do too much. It's a long run."

"So," Charles continued, "Jane, would you start please?"

The rest of the meeting passed smoothly. Each designer updated the group on her progress, Edward reported on the set construction, Charlotte announced that the dancers had learned the entire ballet and only needed to rehearse the material, and the dancers stated quickly that everyone was fine and that there were no immediate concerns. Madeleine also noted that Elizabeth would be rehearsing only Giselle's solos for the time being, and that Nancy would run the duets with Brian until Elizabeth's hand was healed.

"Lizzy, however will you occupy yourself?" Charlotte teased.

"I don't know," Elizabeth responded in kind. "I could go back to being a Wili." The rest of the group laughed - apparently they had more of an idea than William what on earth a Wili was.

He had to ask. "Um. . ."

Nancy Rey smiled. "Spirits of women who have died for love. Giselle becomes one of them when she is deceived by her lover and dies of the shock."

"Oh." Somehow Elizabeth didn't look like the type.

The next day William entered through the auditorium again, having had little success finding the other entrances. He wandered through the lobby, looking idly at photos from past productions. His breath caught in his throat as he saw a close-up of a group of young dancers with the caption "Four Swans: Portia Lazarre, Lydia Bennet, Angela Durnin, Christina Kylie." The second dancer from the right was indeed the Lydia with the fake sprained ankle. She was Jane and Elizabeth's sister too? Good Lord.

He walked aimlessly into the auditorium, hoping either to remember the way down to his office or to see Jane. Instead, he found that rehearsal was occupying the stage and the crew was nowhere to be seen. Madeleine sat in the front row calling instructions like "You missed your mark, move up a little." Charlotte stood off to the side, watching intently and making notes. The action on stage consisted of a group of female dancers that seemed to center around one particular dancer.

Immediately William found himself captivated. The soloist was unlike anything he had ever seen before. Her arms were so fluid and expressive that they seemed boneless and her legs seemed a mile long. The combination of her passionate dancing and the oddly affecting music hypnotized him and he stood riveted. He had always wondered how women managed to dance on the tops of their toes like that. It looked excruciatingly painful, but this woman looked as if she were born that way. She turned to the back momentarily and he was astounded by the musculature of her back - she was so thin that every muscle and bone showed through, but at the same time so clearly strong that with every movement her back rippled. She was positively bewitching. He was only pulled out of his rapture when Madeleine called out, "You're ahead, Elizabeth!"

William scanned the group of dancers, looking for his patient, but couldn't find her. He was saved from further exertion by a slow, agonized arm gesture of the soloist that made it apparent that she had one hand bandaged.

He was in shock. Charles had said that she was good, but nothing had prepared him for this. The woman was incredible. Even in rehearsal clothes and leg warmers she was the epitome of classical grace and elegance. How could he ever have thought she was plain compared to her sister? Elizabeth was flawless. He had never been a big fan of ballet and hadn't understood what people meant when they said it moved them, but now he could sympathize completely. Her body, its movements, were so beautiful that they created a physical ache in his chest. He had to take a deep breath, but was reassured in the knowledge that he was simply appreciating a work of art. The woman before him, lost in her own world, was completely separate from the woman he had met the day before. Completely.

Part III

Posted on Tuesday, 14 December 1999

Despite William's doubts, Charles had been right - the company did settle down by his second day. There were no faux sprains to interrupt his solitude; in fact, nothing interrupted his solitude. To put it mildly, William was bored. He spent the better part of the morning reorganizing his office, then cataloguing the supplies, then reading anything he could find about the dancers' medical histories. By lunch time he was desperate - he sent a message to Madeleine Gardiner that as soon as Elizabeth Bennet had a break he wanted to have a look at her hand.

Someone knocked on his door not five minutes later. He called, "Come in," expecting Elizabeth, but Jane entered instead.

"Jane," he said warmly, "come on in." He immediately decided that this would be a perfect time to assess Jane's relationship with Charles.

"I was wondering if I could use your hands," she asked, "I think I pulled something lifting spots the other day." Little did he know that Jane hadn't pulled a muscle any more than her sister Lydia had the day before. Elizabeth had told her about William's remarks, and good-hearted Jane wanted to give him a chance to redeem himself. She also had a sneaking suspicion that she couldn't quite put her finger on, but it had something to do with the way Elizabeth talked about the doctor . . .

"Sure, come in and lie down," William told her. He settled Jane on the massage table in his inner office. "Where is it?"

"What?" Oh, the muscle pull. "Left shoulder." Jane yelped in surprised pain as William's skilled hands found a knot she hadn't been aware of. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

He grinned. "Well, I'm not actually a massage therapist . . ."

"Oh, great."

"But I had some classes a while back. Relax that." He poked unceremoniously at her shoulder blade.

"So," Jane asked after she got her breath back, "how was your first day? Must have been crazy."

"To say the least," he agreed.

"A bit frustrating?" Jane was trying very hard not to be obvious.

"A bit." He sighed as he worked her shoulder. "Four fake injuries, then your sister."

"Oh." She was beginning to understand. "Bet you thought no one in this company ever had a real injury."

William began to suspect that Elizabeth might have talked to her sister. "I was beginning to wonder, yes. Elizabeth rather changed my mind, in a dramatic sort of way." Oh, how he hoped she got the message.

"It's a talent she has," Jane cracked. "Ow!"

"Sorry. Is that tender?" She groaned in response. "I guess so." He carefully moved down over the rest of her back, searching for a way to ease into his subject. "So, have you and Charles been together long?"

"Three weeks," Jane responded.

"He seems to like you very much."

Jane blushed noticeably. "Yes, he does seem to. He's a nice guy."

William frowned. Charles might sound like a man in love, but he had his doubts whether Jane truly returned his feelings.

Jane had been gone for twenty minutes when a soft knock at the door turned out to be Elizabeth. She waved her hand at him. "You wanted to check it out?"

William looked up quickly from his reading. "Yes, come on in." He led her to the stool and carefully undid the wrappings. "Hmm."

"Hmm?"

He looked down at her. "It's not quite closed up, but I still don't think it needs to be stitched. Let me just clean it and get new butterflies." He left her side to collect equipment. "You're not going to pass out, are you?" he called over his shoulder.

"No," she replied.

"Is that a real no, or a no like yesterday?"

"It's a real no. It's not the sight of blood that gets me, it's blood loss." She tried unsuccessfully to push loose hair behind her ears with her one good hand.

"Okay, here we are." William pulled up the chair and sat down beside her, cradling her hand in his lap. She didn't say a word, but gasped out loud when he started to clean the wound. "Sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay." Her face betrayed her pain, but she was holding up well. He realized that dancers must have a fairly high pain threshold, and said so.

"We have a high pain threshold for dance-related things," Elizabeth replied. "If my toenail was falling off I'd barely notice, but I'm not used to cutting my hand open."

"I guess that's true." He finished wrapping her hand and, in a move that surprised them both, reached up and smoothed her hair back. They made eye contact as he let his hand linger a moment at the side of her face. The lines smoothed out of her forehead and the look she gave him was open and unclouded, much unlike the cynical stare he had seen earlier. "There you are," he said as casually as possible, dropping his hand and giving hers back to her. "That should hold you. But still no partnering."

She gave him a mock salute. "I promise."

"Good." How odd - he seemed to be at a loss for words. "Is there anything else I can help you with, while you're here?"

She shook her head. "Nope, I think I'm fine for the moment."

"Well, if you're ever not, come on down." He realized how that sounded and added, "Of course, you don't have to be injured to come and see me."

"Really?" The strange understanding that had passed between them was gone. "You mean you wouldn't mind not having a 'real medical issue?' You surprise me." And with that, she was gone and William was cursing himself yet again for his bitter words of the day before.

Ten minutes later there was another knock on his door. William looked up, half-hoping and half-fearing that it might be Elizabeth but able to come up with no reason why she should be there. "Come in?"

To his very great surprise and not inconsiderable dismay, Caroline Bingley walked into his office. "Oh, good," she said, looking around and peering into the inner room, "you're not busy."

"Not actively with a patient, anyway," William said, "but . . ."

Caroline hopped onto the massage table and actually stroked it with one finger. "I was wondering if I could enlist your services," she drawled. "I've spent hours over design books, and my back is just killing me."

William at that moment displayed the countenance of a timid, hooved mammal when caught by the illuminating instruments of an automobile, but there was no escape in sight. "Sure," he said, trying to sound sincere, "lie down."

Evidently Caroline wanted nothing more, for the second she had stretched out she commenced groaning. "Oh, that feels goooood."

William swallowed. "Caroline, I haven't done anything yet."

"I know." She sighed. "But anticipation is key."

He covered a laugh as best he could and went reluctantly to work kneading the muscles of her back. She was much less knotted up than Jane, which William quite properly attributed to the difference in the amount of work they did. Costume designer for City Ballet would have been a major undertaking, had Caroline not managed to foist most of the work onto her assistants.

"You have such wonderful hands," Caroline gushed as he worked. "Ouch!"

"Oops," he said. "Was that too hard?"

"No, of course not," she replied. "I'm just not used to such treatment - you do touch me in such a new way."

Fighting the urge to be ill, William decided he'd better change the subject fast. "How long has your brother been seeing Jane?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Caroline replied airily. "A while. She's a nice girl."

"Yes, she is. He seems to be quite enchanted with her."

Caroline sighed. "You know Charles - always imagining himself in love with some girl or other. But he does seem to be falling for Jane, poor boy."

Hmm. "Why do you say that?"

"Well her family is so unfortunate, you must have seen that yourself. Elizabeth has far too much of a tongue in her head and no style at all - have you seen her at rehearsal today? Her hair!"

"I have," William replied. "I attributed that to her being unable to use one of her hands."

"And Mary! Well the least said about her the better. And the younger ones! Always throwing themselves at every man they see . . ."

Completely unlike yourself, of course, he thought. "Yes, I have had the pleasure of meeting her sister Lydia - wait, do you mean there are more?"

"One more - Catherine. Kitty, as she calls herself. No better than Lydia, I can tell you that. I don't know how Jane gets by."

"But as long as Jane does not behave as her sisters do, it doesn't really matter, does it?" Privately William didn't think Elizabeth was all that bad.

"No, dear Jane tries so hard. But you know, I wonder how much in love with Charles she really is."

William perked up at this suggestion. "Really? You don't think Jane returns your brother's feelings?"

"Don't get me wrong, of course she likes him very much, but you must have noticed her behavior when they're together. She's much too reserved to be really in love. I'm afraid for Charles."

Afraid? "Do you find Jane to be dangerous?"

Caroline laughed. "Of course not. But I do think Charles is dangerously close to marrying a woman who only likes him as a friend, and will marry him anyway for the advancement of her career."

William didn't really believe that Jane would consciously do anything of the kind, but Caroline had given him something to think about.

The weeks passed without further real incident, until the day when an envelope appeared in William's mailbox at the back of the theatre (he had by this time worked out that he had a mailbox). It contained a card which read:

Dear William,

You are invited to a Thanksgiving dinner on Wednesday, November 23 at 7:00 PM at the Netherfield Hotel. Please bring a guest if you wish. RSVP by November 18.

Sincerely,
Charles Bingley
Steven Forster
William Lucas
and City Ballet

William looked at the invitation for a moment, and was still pondering it when Nancy Rey came up behind him. "Are you going to come?" she asked.

"What is it?"

Nancy extracted her own invitation from her box. "Just what it says. We're all such gypsies that most of us wouldn't get home to our families for the holiday. We just have it the day before for the people who do have family in the area. It's fun, you should come. The whole company is there and they have music and dancing and really good food."

William tapped the envelope against his chin. "I might come, then. It would be a good chance for me to see people when they aren't in pain."

Nancy laughed and patted his shoulder. "That's the spirit. I have to run and change."

William entered the Netherfield Hotel expecting to find the same straggly bunch of crew and dancers that he saw every day at the theatre. He was completely stunned by the elegance of the gathering - the room was handsome and classy, the table settings were proper, and the people gathered had dressed well for the occasion. He immediately attracted the attention of the Bingley party, who waved him over.

The first thing he noticed was the dress Caroline was wearing - what was that shade of orange doing outside the circus, he wondered. It did not complement her coloring at all, in fact it made her look rather sickly. He wondered if she was trying to coordinate with the yams. Her sister Louisa was not much better, and William really began to fear for the "Giselle" costumes if their designers dressed like this. Fortunately Jane was looking very well, and William could look at her as much as she pleased. He had to admit that he understood the attraction from Charles's point of view - Jane's green dress highlighted her blond curls perfectly and fit nicely against her well-shaped figure. No one could debate the fact that Jane Bennet was a beautiful woman.

At that moment, his attention was caught by a particularly jarring male voice calling out, "Elizabeth! I think we are seated together!" William traced the voice to a squat, portly little man with terrible hair who seemed to be pursuing Elizabeth Bennet across the room.

"Are we, Bill?" Elizabeth asked. "Let me go and have a look. You should go and introduce yourself to the new doctor, anyway."

William's eyes widened, and for a second his gaze locked onto Elizabeth's. She looked away with a smile from his horrified expression and headed for the table as her companion stalked toward William.

"Dr. Darcy!" he called. "I am William Collins, and I have just learned from dearest Elizabeth that you are the nephew of my employer, Catherine de Bourgh."

"I am," William replied, looking frantically around the room for a way out. His eyes met Elizabeth's again, and he mouthed, "You owe me." She smiled and turned her attention back to the table setting. He completely lost track of Bill Collins's conversation as he watched Elizabeth's odd little ritual with the place cards. She read them until suddenly her eyes widened in horror, then picked one up and surreptitiously carried it to the other end of the table. Suddenly she stopped and looked up at him with a half-hidden smile. She picked up another place card and exchanged it for the one in her hand, then ran down and put the second card where the first had been. William wondered what exactly she was doing.

He didn't have to wonder long. People began taking their seats, and Caroline came running over to him. "I think we might be seated together, imagine that," she said. She practically dragged him over to the table and looked for her own name. "That's strange," she said. "Here I am, but you're nowhere around."

On a whim William checked out the area where Elizabeth had been examining the cards. Sure enough, there he was, and seated across from Elizabeth herself. Suddenly he had a very good idea of who Caroline's dinner companion would be. Elizabeth slid calmly into the seat across from him and he decided to take a chance. "Elizabeth?"

She looked up. "Dr. Darcy?"

"That was underhanded and despicable. Thank you."

She smiled coolly. "I hope I have discharged my obligation."

"Admirably." Her manner was still cold, but he was beginning to think that was just her way. "Hand?" he asked. "You haven't been in to see me in a while."

Elizabeth held up her hand for his inspection. He reached across the table to take it and ran his fingers gently over the slender purplish scar on her palm. "It's healed pretty well," he said.

"Yes, it has," she agreed. "At last I can wash my own hair again."

He snuck a look down at the other end of the table and smiled at the sight of Caroline trying to ignore Bill Collins. Elizabeth followed his gaze and smothered a laugh. "Oh, dear," she said. "How unfortunate for her."

William thought he was beginning to understand Caroline's dislike of Elizabeth. A woman like Caroline Bingley must naturally dislike anyone who could see through her quite so easily. For his part, he thought there was very little lacking in the second Bennet sister. Tonight she looked particularly lovely: she wore a dark blue dress that brought out the color of her sparkling eyes, her hair fell in shining waves over her almost-bare shoulders, and her usual pallor was enlivened by a slight flush of excitement. In all she was the perfect combination of grace and liveliness, and William could look at nothing else. It began to worry him.

As the waiters began clearing the last of the plates, the soothing background music grew slightly louder and Steven Forster rose to his feet. "I know you've all been waiting for this moment - the dance floor is open." He stepped out onto the floor with a young woman who was probably his wife, and the rest of the group got to their feet to join him. With no discussion Charles and Jane followed the Forsters onto the floor and were joined by Louisa Hurst and her not-quite-attractive husband. Brian Kelly looked comically from Elizabeth on his left to Nancy on his right and said, "Help!"

Elizabeth smiled. "You dance with me all day, take Nancy," she said cheerfully. Brian kissed her on the forehead and said, "Okay, but you're next." He turned to Nancy with a gallant bow and said, "Miss Rey, may I have this dance?" She bowed deeply in response and accepted his hand as they walked onto the floor.

William did not miss the look on Elizabeth's face as she watched them go. She looked terribly pleased with herself. "If I didn't know better," he said, "I would suspect you of matchmaking, Elizabeth."

She grinned across the table at him. "Perhaps."

"Then you and Brian aren't . . ."

Elizabeth shook her head emphatically. "Oh, no. We never have been."

"Ah." William looked down the table at that particular moment and saw Bill Collins striding toward Elizabeth, clearly with one object in mind. Elizabeth followed his eyes and groaned softly.

He thought fast. He jumped to his feet, extended his hand over the table, and said, "Elizabeth, would you do me the honor?"

Elizabeth looked from William to Bill and back to William. "Yes," she said quickly. She walked around the table hurriedly to take his hand and fairly dragged him onto the floor, away from Bill Collins.

William stopped facing Bill and pulled Elizabeth into his arms, so abruptly that she crashed into his chest. "Sorry," he apologized as they stepped back and took up a more normal dance position. "Wasn't paying attention." She nodded, and he paused for a moment before asking, "How do you know Bill?"

Elizabeth sighed heavily. "He's an old friend of the family. My parents have known his family since they were married. Bill is seven years older than Jane and he's always wanted to marry her and 'unite the families,' Lord knows why, except that now Jane's with Charles so he's after me."

"And how did he get here tonight?"

She rolled her eyes. "My sister Lydia brought him."

Lydia? The giggling teenager? "Why?"

"To torture me."

William laughed, then realized that Bill was staring at them. Without really knowing why, he pulled Elizabeth closer. His hand rested comfortably at the small of her back, which was exposed in her simple yet somehow provocative dress. At least, he thought it was comfortable - to Elizabeth it felt as if his hand were burning through her skin, but of course he couldn't know that. After a few moments she asked in a rather strangled voice, "How do you like working at the ballet?"

He tried to focus on her question rather than on the smell of her hair, but he found it rather difficult to formulate a response. "I like it well enough. Do you usually talk while you're dancing?"

"Usually," Elizabeth replied. "It's better than looking over your shoulder. All the couples behind you think I'm staring at them."

William remembered dancing at the prom in high school and realized she was right. "Good point," he said. "What should we talk about?"

"Anything," Elizabeth responded. "The party, the dinner, the ballet . . ."

"I've seen some of your rehearsals," he said for lack of anything else. "You're very - extraordinary."

"Thanks." Her brow furrowed - she wasn't quite sure whether that was a compliment or not. "We have a new accompanist, you know."

"Mary doesn't play anymore?"

"Mary has started playing only for the younger classes. She finds it too hard with her college schedule. So now we have George."

William experienced at that moment a rather unpleasant epiphany. The other day he had seen on the street a man whom he had hoped never to see again. He had hoped sincerely that it was a coincidence, but things weren't looking good. "George Wickham?" he asked faintly.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied. "I think you know him. He mentioned that when he saw your mailbox."

Oh, no. William tried to remain calm - maybe George hadn't yet started spreading lies about him. "Yes, we knew each other once."

Elizabeth looked up at him with an unreadable look on her face. "He seems to have been unlucky enough to lose your friendship in a particularly extreme way."

D---, George had been telling stories. The song was coming to an end. William only said, "I wish you wouldn't believe everything that you hear, Elizabeth." He tightened his hold on her hand briefly before releasing it. He watched her return to the table with some agitation. George Wickham was a problem that would have to be addressed, and soon.

Part IV

Posted on Wednesday, 15 December 1999

That evening after the party William sat in the living room of Charles's apartment in town, dwelling on whether or not he should share his suspicions with his friend. It would hurt him horribly - but wouldn't it be kinder in the long run than allowing him to continue . . .

"Charles," he said finally, "I have to talk to you."

Charles looked up, alarmed. "What's the matter?"

William leaned forward in his chair. "What are your - intentions - regarding Jane?"

"My intentions?" Charles laughed nervously. "You make the whole thing sound so serious."

William rubbed his hand over his eyes uncomfortably. "It is," he said quietly.

"What? What is it?"

He sighed. "Charles, are you under the impression - do you believe that Jane loves you?"

"What?" Charles got to his feet defensively. "I guess - I mean - yes - I think she does." He paused a fraction of a second. "Don't you?"

William pressed one hand to his lips briefly, deciding how to proceed. "I know that she likes you. She - enjoys your company. She thinks you're a nice person, and she knows that you love her."

"Have you been talking to her?" Charles was aghast.

"A bit." Before Charles could protest, William held up one hand. "A warning, Charles, that's all. Jane likes you very much, but - I don't want to see you hurt." He turned away from Charles's face, convinced he was helping him in the long run. "I don't believe that she returns your feelings. I believe that she would marry you if you asked her tomorrow, but it would not be an honest marriage. She would be accepting you because she likes you well enough and knows that you'll take care of her."

Charles's face was red with anger. "Are you suggesting that Jane would marry me to further her career with the company?"

That was exactly what he was suggesting, but it was even better that Charles had said it himself. "I said no such thing, Charles." He gave his friend a significant look. "Is that what you believe, deep down?" He knew he was playing on Charles's already overblown modesty, but it was for a good cause.

Charles positively reeled. "I had thought - I mean - in my position it's always something I would be afraid of, but I thought that Jane . . ." He passed a hand over his face in unconscious imitation of William's gesture. "Oh, Lord."

Seeing his distress, William began to repent. After all, he himself liked Jane very much and considered her incapable of conscious plotting - but no, she was not incapable of accepting him out of pity and Charles must be saved from that. "Maybe," he suggested, feeling terrible about it for Jane's sake, "maybe you should back off a little - just for a while."

Charles's mute, pale-faced nod was all the answer he needed.

The first rehearsal after Thanksgiving brought all sorts of excitement to City Ballet. Elizabeth Bennet came storming into rehearsal with hair and trench coat flying and didn't seem capable of speaking to anyone. The reason was an absolute puzzle until her sister Kitty burst into the corps rehearsal and announced, "Lizzy's had a proposal!" From there the news spread like wildfire. It was little Portia Lazarre, in William's office for a (real) pulled calf muscle, who informed him that Lizzy Bennet was in a bad mood because gross Bill Collins wanted her to marry him.

"It's disgusting, Dr. Darcy," Portia said eagerly. "He's so old and slimy! And Kitty and Lydia say he came to their house and won't leave and they can't think of how to get rid of him. Lizzy doesn't even live there but he's working on her mother. And her mother calls Lizzy and Jane's apartment three times a day to tell her to marry Bill. It's so weird!" She yelped as William pressed a little too hard on her leg.

"Sorry," he said. "Here, take a heating pad from the cabinet and sit out for a while. You'll be fine - anyway you don't want to miss any rehearsal gossip." He watched Portia go with inexplicable anger raging. He wasn't sure whether he was furious with that odious Bill Collins for thinking he could have Elizabeth in the first place, with her clearly insane mother for encouraging it, or with the company for spreading the rumors. He didn't have to think long, though - after about eleven minutes his door burst open and Caroline Bingley came running in.

"What do you think has happened?" she asked excitedly. William knew it couldn't be good - Caroline was only this happy when something unfortunate had happened to someone else. "Remember that vile little Mr. Collins, the Bennets' friend?"

"Yes, I know," William sighed.

Caroline looked puzzled. "How could you know? It's only just happened."

That caught his attention. "What has?"

"He's engaged!"

William grasped the massage table behind him for support. She couldn't have accepted that vile little man, she absolutely could not have. "To who?" he managed to ask.

Caroline laughed derisively. "Not to little Elizabeth, that's for sure. The vixen actually refused him after leading him on all this time." William had his doubts whether Elizabeth had "led him on," but he kept quiet. "No," Caroline continued, "he's gotten himself engaged to Charlotte!" She paused to watch her bomb fall.

And fall it did. William's mouth dropped open. "Our Charlotte?" he asked, completely stunned.

Caroline nodded, eyes wide with the pleasure of delivering a great shock. "Indeed! Our Charlotte has agreed to marry Bill Collins?"

"Oh," William said. He had not thought Charlotte had so little sense, but then . . . " So she has been offered a position at my aunt's school as well?"

"Well, naturally. You did not think she would marry him without some compensation? No, Mrs. de Bourgh has promised that if William married a dancer she could be the new dance instructor at the school."

"And Charlotte feels that my aunt's boarding school will be a better place for her talents than City Ballet," he said, not comprehending.

"She is only a secondary instructor here, you know," Caroline pointed out. "All she does is teach other people's choreography. I suppose as an independent teacher she will be able to do some work of her own, which is what she wants." Caroline stopped speaking as someone coughed behind her in the hallway. She whirled around to find Elizabeth Bennet standing in the passage. "Elizabeth!" she said with a great deal of relish. "Have you heard the extraordinary news?"

"I have, thank you." William stole a glance at Elizabeth's face - it was like stone.

"You do not agree with your friend's choice?" he asked.

Elizabeth glanced at Caroline as if deciding whether to speak in front of her. "I would not have thought that all the opportunities in the world could make up for - but then, I am not Charlotte."

She spoke calmly, but William could see that she was upset. "Would you excuse us, please, Caroline?" he asked. "I need to speak with Elizabeth."

Caroline looked mildly alarmed, but she excused herself and left. Elizabeth stepped reluctantly into the office and pulled the door closed behind her. "What did you want?" she asked.

William's eyes glinted for just a moment. "Mostly to get rid of Caroline." He thought he detected a smile creeping across her face, but it was gone just as quickly. "But also to talk to you about Charlotte."

Elizabeth threw up her hands in disgust. "What is there to talk about? She's throwing her life away for the chance to teach ballet to a bunch of snobby little rich girls at a stuck-up . . ." She trailed off as she realized it was his aunt's school she was talking about.

"Don't worry," he said, "I've been to my aunt's school and I agree wholeheartedly. I've never thought it was good for rich children to spend all their time with other rich children. They need to be careful who their friends are, for sure, but it does them good to mingle a little -"

"With the poor folk?" Elizabeth interrupted. He could see that her ire was up.

"That isn't what I meant."

"Whatever." She brushed him off with a wave of her hand. "I don't know why we're having this conversation anyway. Caroline is gone, Bill has gone to Charlotte because I refused him, she is lost, my mother won't speak to me, and I'm telling all this to a stuck-up rich doctor who really doesn't care at all, do you?" The question seemed to be rhetorical, as she gave him no time to answer it. "Excuse me, I have a rehearsal to get to."

He couldn't let her go like that. "Elizabeth -"

She turned around in the doorway. "What?"

What to say? "I'm glad you said no."

She gave him an odd look and disappeared, leaving him to reflect on the very great number of times that she had done that in the middle of a conversation. Something besides her anger was bothering him, and he couldn't put his finger on it. Several minutes later as he was organizing a cabinet it came to him - how had Elizabeth known he was rich? It could only mean one thing - Wickham.

He had been talking to her again. Since his arrival at the ballet he had been careful to stay out of William's way, but this was the last straw. He could not be allowed to prejudice Elizabeth against William in this way. Suddenly William wondered whether Wickham was under the impression that getting to Elizabeth would be a way of hurting William. Did George actually think that . . . ?

It must be true. Somehow, through the ever-growing lines of company gossip, George Wickham must have gotten the idea that William had some kind of feelings for the principal dancer. Maybe people had seen them together at Thanksgiving, or heard him talking to Charles about her dancing . . . however it had happened, George must think that William really cared for her.

Another gruesome thought followed that one. George Wickham thought that William was in love with Elizabeth Bennet - and he was right.

"Oh, my God," William said out loud. How had this happened - how had he allowed this to happen? How had he gone from sparring with her, to admiring her dancing, to suddenly caring about her opinion of him, to - ? His mind conjured up the picture of Elizabeth as she had appeared when they first met, after she had fainted in his office. She had looked so small and vulnerable - the idea of Wickham getting to her made William physically ill, even more so than the idea of her and Bill Collins. He would not allow what had almost happened to his sister to happen to Elizabeth as well. He could formulate only one rational thought - he must speak with her, and soon.

He fairly ran from his office, fully intending to drag her from rehearsal with some excuse about records or filing - but he was interrupted most unexpectedly by the sight of Caroline with someone William would never have expected to see.

"Richard?" he asked in shock.

His cousin looked up. "There you are, Will! Caroline here was just showing me the way to your office. This is a great old building."

"What are you doing here?"

Richard smiled. "I had a few days, I was in the area, I hadn't seen you in months - so I thought I'd stop by. Are you busy?"

There was really only one appropriate answer. "No, of course not."

The cousins managed to escape Caroline's clutches long enough to go for lunch at a little café around the corner. "This is great," Richard commented as they slid into a cozy corner booth.

"Charles's - friend - showed it to me." For better or for worse, Charles had effectively withdrawn from Jane's company.

"Jane?" Richard asked. "The one you -"

"Yes, yes." William was anxious to change the subject. "The dancers come here very often on their breaks - of course they don't actually seem to eat much."

"Well, dancers." William had to repress a smile at Richard's tone - he knew his cousin had very little knowledge of the habits of dancers. As he was smiling to himself he suddenly caught sight of something that erased his smirk - Elizabeth Bennet was entering the café with Charlotte Lucas and Nancy Rey.

"What is it?" Richard followed his sight line. "Girls."

"They're from the ballet." William did not have a chance to explain further, as Nancy caught sight of him and waved. The women came over to their table to say polite hellos, although William couldn't help noticing that Elizabeth seemed a bit reluctant.

"Richard," he said as calmly as he could muster, "this is Charlotte Lucas, Nancy Rey, and Elizabeth Bennet." He struggled to pronounce her name with the same tone and emphasis as the others. "This is my cousin Richard Fitzwilliam."

"Why don't you all join us?" Richard suggested. Elizabeth looked like she might be going to protest, but Nancy said, "That sounds great." She and Charlotte pulled over an extra table, and Elizabeth had no choice but to sit down. Nancy and Charlotte got up almost immediately to go to the counter and order coffee, and William remembered that he had been going to get cups for himself and Richard. Reluctantly he left Richard and Elizabeth alone at the table.

He looked back at them as he stood in line - they were smiling and talking animatedly, and he felt an odd twinge of jealousy. How had Richard managed to win her over so quickly, when he had been trying for months to earn her friendship? Easy, he reminded himself bitterly, Richard hadn't started by insulting her.

The next time he looked back he was greeted by a very different sight. Elizabeth had paled visibly and she was looking at Richard with an expression that clearly displayed shock and grief from all the way across the café. In the next minute she was on her feet and running out the door.

Charlotte saw her go. "Lizzy!" she called, but Elizabeth was already gone. Charlotte crossed the restaurant to the near-empty table, asking, "Mr. Fitzwilliam, what was the matter with Elizabeth?"

Richard looked confused as William and Nancy joined them. "I don't know. I - maybe I said something to upset her - I don't know. She just looked sick all of a sudden and said she had to leave."

After Charlotte and Nancy had eaten and left, William turned to his cousin. "Now that they're gone," he said, "what was really the matter with Elizabeth?"

"I don't know," Richard repeated. "She just said she had to go."

"What did you say to her?"

"Nothing! We were talking about you, if you must know."

William's stomach did an odd gymnastics routine. "What were you talking about when she left?"

"Charles Bingley," Richard said after a moment. "She commented that you seemed to - look after him a bit, and I mentioned that you even looked after his relationships."

Oh, NO. William tried to remain calm. "What - did - you - tell - her?" he stammered.

"I was talking about that woman recently - the one who was after Charles for her career - you know, Jane. I mentioned that you prided yourself on having opened Charles's eyes."

"Oh, no." William closed his eyes in defeat. "Richard, I left something out of that story."

"Oh, really?"

"Really." He winced. "Jane is Elizabeth's sister."

Richard slapped himself on the forehead. "Oh, no. William, I'm so sorry. I had no idea that Elizabeth would know who I was talking about - or that she would care."

"It's not your fault." William sat back in his chair. Things had just gotten a little more complicated. He had to talk to Elizabeth even sooner than he'd thought.

Part V

Posted on Thursday, 16 December 1999

Upon returning to the theatre for the afternoon, William's only thought was to find Elizabeth and try to repair some of the damage Wickham and Richard had wrought. He tried both rehearsal studios before finding her pacing angrily backstage in warm-up clothes. She was barefoot and swinging her pointe shoes by their ribbons as if she wanted to decapitate someone with them. William swallowed hard before approaching her.

"Elizabeth?" he called meekly, not wanting to set her off.

She whirled around to face him, shoes arrested in mid-swing. They crashed into her thigh as she surveyed him with a cold expression. "Dr. Darcy?"

"I - wanted to talk to you, if I could."

An observant person seeing Elizabeth Bennet on the street could have pegged her for an actress or a dancer by the very great expressiveness of her face. As she stared him down William could actually see her deciding whether to argue with him or to leave without giving him the satisfaction of upsetting her. The former won out. "Oh, really?" she asked, sarcasm positively dripping from her words. "What could you and I possibly have to talk about? Aren't you afraid I might sully you by contact with my inferior family? Or that I might be out to win you over for your money? You're a brave man, William Darcy."

"Elizabeth . . ."

"Don't even try!" By now she was shouting and several people turned to gape at the petite dancer reaming out the company doctor. "I can't imagine anything that I would want to hear from you, except maybe to hear that you had fixed what you did to my sister!" This attack did little to clear up the mystery for those watching, as Elizabeth had several sisters. Edward Gardiner whispered to one of the crew, "Do you think he treated one of them wrong? They could sue for malpractice!"

"Elizabeth," William tried again.

"Don't Elizabeth me!" she shouted, advancing on him. "I can't trust a word that you say! You alternate between insulting me and insulting my family, and acting like you want to be my friend. What the h--- am I supposed to think?" She took a step forward and immediately shrieked in pain. Despite her accusations, his love for her combined with his doctor's instincts made him rush to her side and ask, "What is it?"

She lashed out with both hands, striking him anywhere she could land a blow while screaming, "I don't need your help! Get the h--- away from me!"

A crowd was beginning to gather. William had two options before him. He could leave now, or continue the confrontation to his satisfaction. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Caroline Bingley's face, and its expression shocked and horrified him. She looked positively radiant.

That was the last straw. Money grubbers like Caroline would not be allowed to enjoy Elizabeth's misfortunes, even if Elizabeth was hurting him beyond belief. He grabbed Elizabeth around the waist and, ignoring the blows she rained on his back, carried her out of the wings and down the hall to his office. As he passed the stunned people gathered to watch the fight, he simply said over the noise of her protests, "Poor thing just snapped."

When they reached his office he set her down a little harder than necessary on the table and shut the inner office door behind them. Elizabeth had stopped shouting and was only glaring at him from her seat on the table. Somehow he found this more disconcerting than her screams, but at least now she could hear him.

"Please just hear me out," he said as calmly as possible. "I know what Richard told you . . ."

"Are you going to tell me it's not true?" she asked sarcastically.

He dropped into a chair across from her. "No."

She had been expecting some protest and was so stunned by his reply that she couldn't respond. He had been expecting another outburst, and decided to use this opportunity to explain himself.

"Richard told you that I had separated Charles from your sister. You no doubt believe that I told lies, slandered Jane, spoke ill of her, in short did anything I could to ruin her happiness - for no good reason. I never spoke ill of your sister. I think I may say in perfect honesty that I admire Jane as I admire no one else except -" He had been going to say "except yourself," but decided to wait on that point. "- Except my own sister. Jane - is a wonderful, loving, gentle, beautiful person and I never believed that she would marry Charles to further her career. I did, however, believe that if Charles proposed she would say yes regardless of her own feelings, in order to preserve his. In my time here I had observed them together, and come to the conclusion that Charles loved your sister very much, but that Jane did not return the full extent of his feelings. I did not want to see my friend with a woman who had married him out of pity, and so I expressed my doubts to him." He held up his hand as Elizabeth started to interrupt. "Please. Hear me out. Charles's own modesty performed my task much better than any words of mine could have. The smallest suggestion that Jane might not love him was enough to convince him that she could not, and in humiliation and, I believe, grief he stopped seeing her. Indeed, he loved her so much that he could not bear the idea that he was making her unhappy by loving her. You know enough of Charles to believe that he might feel this way. I swear, Elizabeth, I wanted only to give him pause and force him to examine the situation. I did not expect that he would separate himself from Jane so completely. If I have hurt her, I am sorry."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed in rage. "If you have hurt her? You have hurt her beyond your wildest imagination! I can't believe your arrogance, your presumption - to think that you could judge my sister's feelings!" She began to pace the room, limping as she had stepped on a nail in her bare feet while shouting at him. William, for his part, was relieved - a shouting Elizabeth he could understand, but a silent Elizabeth was terrifying.

She turned back to him with venom gleaming in her bright eyes. "And it isn't only Jane! Long before I heard about what you had done to her, I knew what kind of person you were from George Wickham!"

"George Wickham?" Oh, no. What had he been saying?

Elizabeth was inflamed. "Yes! You can't deny what you did to him either, can you? How you could treat someone that way, who you had grown up with as a brother, is absolutely beyond my comprehension! To refuse to honor your own father's will - and not only that but to separate him from the kind of love I can only assume you have never felt." That particular arrow found its target rather well, coming as it did from the only woman William had ever loved. "What is it with you that you have this vendetta against people in love? Is it just that no one ever wants you except for your money? I have news for you, my friend - all the money in the world wouldn't make you look good to any sensible woman." She stopped, having exhausted herself.

He rose to his feet, chest heaving with the force of his love and pain. "George Wickham," he said in a trembling voice, "was, as he no doubt told you, the son of my father's chauffeur. We grew up together, as you say, like brothers. My father was so fond of Mr. Wickham that he wanted to give George every advantage - George shared my music lessons, sports activities, anything my father's generosity could provide. My father loved George and was as completely blind to his faults as Mr. Wickham himself. I know," he said as he saw her about to protest, "you are going to say that his faults were all in the mind of a jealous son whose father loved another boy as well. Let me assure you that is not the case. My mind could not have invented George's escapades throughout our youth - shoplifting, graffiti, smoking, vandalism, anything you could name. By the time we were in high school he had impregnated one of our classmates. His father and mine never heard about the scandal because unfortunately his father died just before it came out. My father was so inconsolable that I didn't want to burden him further, so I kept George's secret. Years later I would regret that more than I could imagine." He saw a flicker of curiosity break through Elizabeth's mask of skepticism and knew that he was gaining on her.

"My own father paid for George's college tuition. He had always assumed that, since I was bound for medical school, his adopted son would be the one to follow him to Harvard Law. Unfortunately my father died of cancer before we completed our undergraduate education. In his will was the stipulation that George's tuition at Harvard should be paid. George informed you of this?" Elizabeth nodded mutely. "Good. No doubt he did not inform you that I was powerless to pay his tuition at a school that had not accepted him." Her eyebrows shot up - she was surprised. Good. "George had spent his undergraduate days with parties, alcohol, and women and had devoted very little time to classes or studying. Harvard wouldn't take him, and not even the Darcy money could convince them. What could I do? George demanded a sum equivalent to two years at Harvard, since he was not going to receive the money that way. He said that he was going to travel and look for work on the other side of the country. I was so anxious to be rid of him that I believed him and gave him the flat sum of seventy thousand dollars." Elizabeth's eyes widened at the idea of having that much money to give, but he ignored her. "George departed at that point, and I hoped never to see him again.

"Unfortunately for all of us, the money ran out quickly. George no doubt didn't mention that among his other talents is a remarkable ability to lose large quantities of money at gambling. Eventually he decided to get more, and to destroy me in the process.

"I have a sister, as I'm sure you know from your reference to my having separated George from the person he loved." She nodded, her face hardening momentarily. "He told you that he and my sister were in love, and that I separated them cruelly?" She nodded again. "Did he tell you that my sister is sixteen years younger than we are, and was only fifteen at the time?" Elizabeth's gasp was the only answer he needed. "I thought not.

"My sister Georgiana had not been told about George's escapades and had only pleasant memories of the man who used to play with her when she was a child. Remember, she was only two years old when we went off to college and did not see us after that except for vacations. When she met him last summer, she had not seen him since she was eight. Our father had been dead for ten years, and our mother had died giving birth to Georgiana." He forced himself to ignore Elizabeth's brief look of sympathy. "I was away at a convention, and there was no one to warn her of his character. He visited her several times and convinced the child that she was in love. He asked her to come with him on a vacation in Louisiana, which he clearly could not afford. His object was of course to seduce my sister and blackmail me - a large sum of money to buy his silence. Had word gotten out that Ana had been connected with such a man - in our circles, the family would have been ruined, not to mention the effects of such an experience on Ana. Fortunately I returned earlier than expected and interrupted the scheme. Ana confessed everything. I banished George from my house and did not see him again until he turned up here."

Elizabeth's eyes glistened with tears of humiliation and shock. He watched her fumble for any appropriate response. "Where is your sister now?" she asked finally.

"She is living with me at our family home outside the city."

Elizabeth nodded mutely. William knew that she needed time to process this revelation, and that he needed time away from her. "I think I am going to take the rest of the day off," he said quietly. "Please - think about what I said. If you doubt its truth, look up Richard Fitzwilliam in the phone book - he knows. I will leave you alone now." And with that he left the office and headed home.

The next weeks were pure hell. William kept himself away from Elizabeth as much as possible. Performances of "Giselle" had begun and daytime rehearsals were shorter, so the task was not logistically difficult. He heard once that Elizabeth had been to a chiropractor outside the company, and could only assume that she did not wish to see him. The only bright spot was that George Wickham had been caught with one of the younger dancers, a Rebekah Carson, and had been dismissed from his position.

By the third week of performances William was ready for some self-imposed torture. He bought tickets to the ballet for himself and Georgiana - having told her nothing, of course, of his history with Elizabeth. When he presented her with the tickets, she flew down the stairs and into his arms.

"William, how did you know? I've been dying to see where you work, but I didn't want to ask!" William winced - his sister had been so meek since her near-disgrace with Wickham and was terrified of disobeying or displeasing him. He desperately wanted a return of the old Ana, but didn't know how to bring her out. He settled for hugging her back very tight, and saying, "I'm glad. I thought you'd be pleased. I've seen bits of rehearsals, and it looks very good."

Georgiana pulled away from him and tried to smooth the blond curls he had tousled. "You need to get out, anyway," she said. "You haven't been yourself lately."

Neither have you, honey, he wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut.

Knowing that both of them needed it, he planned the perfect evening for himself and Georgiana. He sent her shopping for a new dress and made reservations at their favorite restaurant in the city before the performance. On the night, he dressed up in his tuxedo, knowing that his little sister loved to see him in formal wear. She was so proud of her older brother, a fact which never ceased to make him want to cry.

She joined him downstairs, and he had to look twice to make sure this was really his little Ana. The dress she had chosen was modest, ankle-length with an Empire waist and a reasonable neckline, but it showed off her young figure to the best possible advantage. It was dark green, the top of velvet and the skirt of something smooth and shiny. She had pulled her blond hair on top of her head and was wearing a necklace that had belonged to Anne Darcy, their mother. She smiled at him, and her pale face was absolutely radiant.

"Now I know what took so long," he said good-naturedly. "Georgiana, you put me to shame. Shall we go?" He offered his arm and she took it, smiling with happy embarrassment.

"By the way," he said on their way out, "you are not going to the prom looking like this unless I have seriously threatened the boy in question first." She laughed out loud, relieved that he could allude to her having a date without mentioning George. He took her hand fondly and led her to the car with a bit of a sigh. They were going to see Elizabeth, and he wasn't sure he could take it.

Part VI

Posted on Friday, 17 December 1999

The evening at the restaurant was exactly what William needed - he hadn't had a real conversation with his sister in ages, and she at least did not remind him of Elizabeth. Charles, on the other hand, did, and it was becoming increasingly hard to talk to him without touching on difficult subjects. Over dinner he and Georgiana discussed everything from school to her music lessons - everything except William's work. Finally, though, Georgiana got tired of talking about herself and wanted to hear about the ballet.

"You never told me what 'Giselle' was about," she said over coffee.

"I've only seen pieces of it in rehearsal, but I think it's rather sad," William replied. Georgiana noticed that her brother had a faraway look on his face - he was remembering the fateful day when he saw Elizabeth dance for the first time. "It's about a woman who dies of unrequited love," he said, still seeing visions of Elizabeth. "She turns into a mad spirit and appears to the man who deceived her."

"How romantic!" Georgiana's young eyes glowed. "I can't wait - Charles mentioned that the dancer playing Giselle is beautiful."

"She is," William said without thinking.

Georgiana set down her coffee cup. "Then you know her?"

William examined his sister's face, but she didn't look suspicious. "Yes, a little."

"What's she like?" He gave her an odd look, and she added, "I've never met a famous dancer before."

"Elizabeth isn't famous," he said with a smile, "yet."

"But she will be?"

He smiled. "She's very good."

Georgiana's eyes narrowed - now she was suspicious, but only a little. "So it's Elizabeth, is it?"

"Elizabeth Bennet."

"Is she pretty?"

"Yes, very." He grinned at his little sister over the rim of his cup. "And she has a temper like someone else I know."

That was a fatal mistake; it caught Georgiana's interest. "You fought with her?" she asked in disbelief.

Oh, no. How to distract her? "We've bumped heads a few times." He saw that she wanted more, so he confessed, "She heard some comments that I made on my first day and has never forgiven me for them." Which was technically true, that was where the trouble had started.

"So she doesn't like you."

He winced inwardly at his sister's unconscious barb. "I think it's safe to say that she doesn't, no."

That wince must not have been entirely inward. "Do you like her?" Georgiana asked, giving him a piercing look.

"We haven't really met that many times," he lied. "I've seen her mostly on the stage." Well, technically that was true too. He neglected to mention that at their last meeting he had actually carried Elizabeth off the stage.

"Hmm." Georgiana seemed satisfied with that explanation, because she moved on to questions about Brian and the backstage aspect of the production. William was glad to answer her questions about things like rehearsal hours and company protocol, as long as they stayed off the topic of a certain dancer.

Their seats for the performance were excellent, close but not too close. "Makeup, sweat, and feet," Charles had said. "You should be close enough to see feet clearly but not close enough to see sweat or makeup lines." Taking his advice, William had selected seats several rows back in the orchestra section. As they sat down he found himself staring at Elizabeth's name in the program, which was fine because his sister was watching the musicians tune up and didn't require conversation. He brushed his finger gently over the listing for Jane's work and made up his mind to have a talk with Charles that very night. After his fight with Elizabeth he had decided to let things run their own course, but it was apparent that Charles was not going to go back to Jane without some prompting. At least someone should be happy.

At long last the musicians began the overture, the lights dimmed, and the curtain began to rise. William smiled as he heard Georgiana sigh happily in the seat beside him. He made a mental note to take her out more often - she was alone too much. Without knowing it she took his mind off waiting to see Elizabeth by asking about the other dancers. "That's Randy Curras, he plays Hilarion. Hilarion is engaged to Giselle," he explained.

Villagers entered next, and Georgiana whispered, "I know that girl!"

"Which one?"

"That one, there. She's in my class at school - I didn't know City Ballet had dancers so young."

William realized that his sister was pointing to Portia Lazarre. "Some of them are that young," he whispered back. "I think the ballet schedules rehearsals so that the younger dancers can be in school at the regular times."

"Oh." Georgiana held her peace until Brian entered as Albrecht. "He's gorgeous," she whispered.

William smiled in the darkness. "Don't get too excited, he's dating the queen of the Wilis."

"What?"

William was powerless to answer her. The fateful moment had come. He had tried and tried to prepare himself, but he was not equipped to handle Elizabeth in full performance mode. She danced her piquant duet with Brian, enchanting the entire audience and breaking more hearts than William's. Only the sides of her hair had been pulled up, and the rest swung charmingly around her shoulders. To Caroline's credit (and who ever expected he'd be saying that?) her costume was beautiful and, even more shocking, simple. It highlighted all of Elizabeth's best features and perfectly matched the little flowers in her hair. She was absolutely stunning. William caught himself holding his breath.

"Is that Elizabeth Bennet?" Georgiana whispered.

His voice was low and hoarse. "Yes."

"Charles was right, she's beautiful." Georgiana didn't see her brother close his eyes and swallow in the darkened theatre. He blinked back tears at the thought that he would have loved to introduce Elizabeth to his sister.

They watched the story unfold in companionable silence, often with suspended breath as Hilarion and Albrecht, in disguise as the peasant Loys, fought over Giselle. When Giselle's mother entered, William relaxed a little and smiled - Madeleine Gardiner could make anyone feel better. The moment on stage was tense, though - Giselle's mother feared that her daughter would exhaust her frail constitution at the wine festival and die. The moment passed, and William heard Georgiana exhale sharply as the music grew more cheerful.

The end of the act caught them both by surprise even though William knew Giselle's eventual fate. Albrecht's disguise was exposed, he was revealed to be engaged to someone else, and Giselle became unhinged. Watching Elizabeth dance with wild, wide eyes and clenched, tight hands had William on the edge of his seat. When she finally died of a broken heart he looked over to see Georgiana wiping away tears. Of course, he thought, she must be thinking of how she was also deceived in love. He was mentally kicking himself for being such a callous idiot when the lights came up and Georgiana turned to him to say, "Wasn't it beautiful?"

He exhaled with relief. "It wasn't too sad for you?" he asked anxiously.

"Oh, no, I loved it. I can't wait for the rest." She sniffled and then smiled broadly. "Your Elizabeth is incredible."

"She's not my Elizabeth, Ana," he said with a smile, but she'd given him an idea. "I'll be right back, I'm going to run and find Mr. Forster." He dashed from the auditorium, hoping that intermission would last the full fifteen minutes and that the flower shop on the corner was still open.

By some miracle they were, and he was back in his seat just as the lights began to dim. "I was worried you wouldn't make it," Georgiana whispered. "What happens in the second act?"

He took a deep breath - this was the part he had seen that first time. "Giselle appears as a Wili, a spirit who died with her love unrequited. Any man that comes under their power is danced to his death by the vengeful Wilis."

Georgiana shivered with pleasure. "Sounds exciting." She didn't say any more, as the curtain began to lift.

Nancy Rey stepped on stage as Myrta, the queen of the Wilis. "That's Brian's girlfriend," William whispered. He hadn't seen much of Nancy's dancing, but she was wonderful - not as good as Elizabeth, but then he was biased. He gasped aloud, though, when Elizabeth made her entrance. Now dead and a lonely spirit, Giselle was about to be initiated as a Wili. Elizabeth's hair had been caught up in some whitish netting stuff, and her makeup had been redone. She was now pale as a lily (not much of a stretch, admittedly) with dark circles around her eyes. Her dress was white and filmy, almost as if she was made of the fabric itself. She danced as if every movement caused her pain, as if her very soul was lost in the character. William realized with an odd jolt that at this point in the ballet Elizabeth was gone. This broken shell of a woman had taken over her body utterly and completely. At last he understood what they had meant at that first meeting by dancer burnout. He could easily see that dancing this role every day for long periods of time could drive someone as mad as Giselle herself.

He stole a glance at his sister. Georgiana was captivated. "Poor Hilarion," she murmured when that unfortunate man came looking for Giselle and lost his life to the Wilis. She gasped when Albrecht entered to lay flowers on Giselle's grave. "Is he going to die too?" she asked.

"I don't know," he whispered back.

It seemed that even after death Giselle loved Albrecht. She decided to protect him from the Wilis, and danced with him herself. Their duet was heartbreaking; Georgiana was not the only person crying openly. Elizabeth was expert at conveying Giselle's emotions through the dance: at times she appeared lost in the pleasure of dancing with her lover and at others she would contract her stomach and shoulders as if feeling the pain of separation. Her face was stricken, and William thought he saw tears glistening in her dark eyes. He knew once and for all that there was no hope. No matter how much he tried to separate himself from her, there was no forgetting Elizabeth Bennet. He would love her till the day he died. The ballet continued, the hour came when the Wilis lost their power, they returned to the grave, Albrecht was saved - and William Darcy wept like a child in the darkness. No matter how masochistic, no matter how much it hurt, he had to see her.

The audience's response to the curtain calls was no surprise. They applauded the corps energetically, cheered and "bravoed" Hilarion and especially Albrecht, flattered a smiling Nancy with cries of "brava" - and jumped to their feet for Elizabeth. Looking around him, William was proud of his dearest even though he knew she wasn't his. Grown men had tears streaming down their faces as they applauded until their hands ached. People cried "Bravissima!" from the balcony as Elizabeth took a long, slow curtsey. She smiled tremulously at the audience and William felt his heart about to burst.

After the curtain had closed, Georgiana turned to him. "Are we going backstage?" she asked hopefully. "Don't you want to see the people you know?"

It would hurt, but he wanted to do it anyway. "Yes, we're going."

Backstage was a mad house. William and Georgiana stood to the side with Charles until dancers started to notice them. "Look who's here!" Nancy cried, still in her Wili costume. "Hey, Dr. Darcy!"

He smiled and kissed Nancy's forehead. "Nancy, you were beautiful. I was spellbound."

Nancy blushed and smiled back. "Thank you so much. Is this your sister?"

"Yes, this is Georgiana." Nancy and Georgiana shook hands and exchanged quick pleasantries, but William didn't hear. He had seen her.

Background noise faded to an unintelligible roar. The people between them seemed to part like the Red Sea, even though in reality they were still in the way. Elizabeth had pulled a sweater over the top of her costume and had put legwarmers on, but she was nonetheless the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. She leaned against the wall in total exhaustion, talking to one of the crew members. As they talked, Jane burst through the crowd, calling, "Lizzy! Look what was in your dressing room."

William ears pricked up as he heard Elizabeth exclaim, "Oh my gosh, they're beautiful! Who are they from?"

"I don't know," Jane replied. "There's a card, though."

He peeked around a man in front of him, trying to observe her without being noticed. She held one of the dark red roses against her bloodless cheek while opening the card. She didn't read it aloud, but he didn't need to hear it. He had the message memorized.

"Elizabeth,

You are utterly, completely, and without comparison the most beautiful woman I have ever set eyes on. Your performance made me cry. Congratulations, you deserve every moment of your success."

He had not signed it.

"Lizzy!" Jane gasped, reading the card over her sister's shoulder. "You have a secret admirer!"

Elizabeth smiled wearily. "I doubt that, Jane. They're probably from Dad." Her smile faded as she looked at just the right angle across the room and saw William.

Their eyes locked. Neither moved. Finally William realized he had to do something, so he started toward her. Without seeing yet where he was going, Georgiana followed.

"Elizabeth," he said hoarsely. "Congratulations. You were beautiful."

Elizabeth looked at him oddly for a moment, but quickly put all such ridiculous thoughts out of her head. "Thank you," she said in a rather disconnected tone. William got the idea that she hadn't really said what she'd wanted to say. There was an awkward moment until he remembered that he knew how to break it.

"Elizabeth," he said formally, "may I introduce my sister, Georgiana Darcy." He prodded Georgiana forward with a hand on the small of her back.

The two women smiled at each other, and immediately William had the strange feeling that they had bonded for life. Georgiana was starstruck at meeting Giselle herself, but Elizabeth smiled and asked solicitous questions about the evening and put Georgiana completely at ease. William watched them silently, hoping . . .

After a few minutes they concluded their conversation and Georgiana excused herself to talk to Charles. William and Elizabeth were left looking at each other nervously.

"She's a lovely girl," Elizabeth said at last. "You - you did a good job."

His heart melted even as his stoic expression melted into a smile. "She's all I have," he said softly.

She smiled back, then closed her eyes and ran her fingers nervously through her disheveled hair. "Dr. Darcy, I'm sorry about -"

He cut her off. "William. And don't be. We shared the fault pretty equally, I think."

She nodded slowly, then said, "I should go and change."

"Oh, of course - don't let me keep you. You must be exhausted."

She nodded again ruefully. "Takes a lot out of you."

"Well, you deserve to be tired," he said gently. "You were utterly beautiful. Goodnight, Elizabeth." He turned and went to collect his sister. Something was eating at the edge of Elizabeth's mind, but she didn't know what until she remembered the card she still held in her hand. "You are utterly, completely, and without comparison the most beautiful woman I have ever set eyes on." She looked in wide-eyed disbelief from William's retreating back to the roses and back to William. He and Georgiana waved quickly as they left, and had anyone watched Elizabeth at that moment they would have seen a tiny, surprised smile creep slowly over her face.

Continued In Next Section