Beginning, Section II

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Part 6

Aunt Philips. Elizabeth tried to concentrate on her aunt's conversation. Her cousin's conversation. Her own conversation. There was nothing of much interest in any of the three.

"I think I will sit this one out..." she said to the card table, sitting by the fire with a book. Surreptitiously, she looked up. Catching George Wickham's eye, she allowed herself to appear somewhat charmed by him, and let him approach her.

"My Dear Miss Elizabeth."

"Good evening, Mr. Wickham."

They sat in silence, Elizabeth revealing neither interest nor disinterest. She approached the situation cautiously. It would not do at all to let Mr. Wickham know of her immediate dislike. Veiling her disgust, she appeared rapt to his expression, previous vacillation forgotten.

Mr. Wickham, upon seeing that he had the clever Bennet girl's attention decided to take advantage of the situation. He had to do this cautiously. Who knew what Darcy had already done? "Are you very well acquainted with Mr. Darcy, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Not too well. We have conversed on few matters," she answered truthfully.

"And is he well-liked in the area?"

"I would not know. I suppose the gossip of his fortune has inclined general talk towards him, but I do not think Mr. Darcy has been around long enough to be liked..." Or disliked...

Well, then... He had seen the interest Darcy had expressed in Miss Elizabeth Bennet. It appeared the lady's affections had not been secured as of yet, and there was hope that she could yet be swayed. "As a very concerned young man who already cares very much about you, I think I should tell you something very important..." he leaned forward.

Elizabeth prevented herself form leaning back and moving elsewhere. She leaned forward as well. "About Mr. Darcy?" she asked.

Those lips, in perfect curvature, were entrancing. They'd be soft and complying on his own. "Yes..." he whispered.

Elizabeth kept her calm, and asked softly, "What about him? He owns a rather large estate in Derbyshire, does he not?"

Knowing the scene was far to intimate for a regular conversation, he sat back for decorum's sake. He took from Elizabeth's reluctant recollection that she felt the same.

Of course, she did not. She just wanted to get away...

"Yes, he does. In fact, I am well acquainted with the Darcys. In fact, my father was his late father's steward. Old Mr. Darcy was one of the best men who ever lived..."

"And his son does not live up to the high expectations set by his father?" She highly doubted that. Mr. Darcy, in every situation she had encountered with him, had been congenial enough. The manners with which he acted did not disgust her as those of others did. They were honest.

"No one could possibly be more generous than the late master..." ...nor so blind... he smiled to himself.

The self-congratulatory smirk would have been imperceptible to others, but was certainly not lost on the young woman who was determined to disrespect him. "How so?"

"Well, there is the matter of an inheritance. Mr. Darcy has done me a great wrong."

"Oh?" she kept the sarcasm out of her voice, and let a token interest appear on her face. Amuse me.

"Mr. Darcy and I grew up together in Lambton."

The town name caught her ear, and she had to allow herself a small gasp of surprise. A coincidence, of course...it must have been.

George, taking her gasp of surprise as a reaction to finding out that they were childhood playmates, continued. "Well, Old Mr. Darcy was very fond of me, and his fondness for me lasted through the grave; in his will, he provided me with a living. His intention was for me to go to the church."

She wanted to smirk. And my name is Lydia... She kept the interest in her eyes though. Get to the message, boy!

"The church ought to have been my profession. I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman that we were speaking of just now."

Oh really? Elizabeth allowed some interest to appear. And I'm SURE you wanted to be in the church... "Indeed!"

"My master bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere."

"Good heavens! How could the will be so blatantly disregarded?"

Knowing he'd sunk her now, he allowed the situation to develop quickly. "The terms of the bequest were not entirely clear, and Mr. Darcy took advantage of it. A man of true honor would have been able to overlook the vagueness, as the intention was clear...but Mr. Darcy hated me. Who knows why..."

Elizabeth withheld the insult that came to mind. Her mind was working entirely too much for an evening conversation. The association between Wickham and Darcy probably did exist, as Mr. Darcy did acknowledge him. But she highly doubted the associations ended such. "Quite shocking! You should publicly disgrace him," she said to accommodate him.

"Some time, but my respect for his father is too great. Till I forget his father, I can ever defy or expose him."

I am sure... she gritted her teeth to keep the sarcasm from seeping through her actions. Allowing an internal monologue to catch Wickham's interest, she spoke with as much conviction as she could muster. "To think, that Mr. Darcy was so evil..." Be Jane! Be Jane! Keep the innocence! "I had not thought Mr. Darcy as bad as this...so Mr. Darcy is inherently evil?"

Wickham looked up at her frank question. "Why...of course."

Elizabeth kept the semblance of innocence in her features. "Then his advances...I should have known..." she shook her head. "His advances were just too ardent to be honest..."

George allowed himself to settle closer. "Mr. Darcy has expressed an interest in you?"

"Well, yes...no..." she cringed and wanted to run when Wickham's touch just gently brushed against her neck. Get away! Get away!

"It does not surprise me...he usually likes clever and beautiful women such as yourself."

"I deserve no such flattery," she uttered in reply. Where was a White Knight when you needed him?

"You know..." Mr. Wickham whispered softly.

"Mr. Collins!" she said politely to her cousin who joined their party. "Mr. Wickham has expressed an interest in the church. I need to drink something...I do abhor dry weather. So would you be so polite as to entertain him while I am absent?"

"Anything for my dear sweet cousin..."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes in disgust at both the men, each thinking it was for the other, and left the pair, searching out Jane. She had no sooner left their company when the servant entered the room and unexpectedly announced Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy.

Gratified by the distinction of having so many eligible men at her party, Aunt Philips approached the guests with alacrity. Elizabeth kept her eye on her sister, and watched Mr. Darcy move towards the library shelf. Mr. Bingley, towards the fire.

With both Mr. Wickham and Mr. Collins watching, she could not very easily do anything with Mr. Darcy. And so, she went to Mr. Bingley, who was already firmly established as her sister's suitor.

Of course, Mr. Bingley. That was right. His friend had feelings for her.

Mr. Bingley smiled at Elizabeth. Jane was still trapped in a game of whist with her aunt, and so he showered his attentions on Elizabeth, in hopes of finding some secret remark about Jane. "Good evening."

"Good evening, Mr. Bingley."

Tried as he might, he could not allow the two to be alone together. Mr. Darcy approached the two. "Good evening, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth blushed at his use of her name. "Good evening, Mr. Darcy." Keeping up performances for Mr. Wickham, she turned to Mr. Bingley, slighting Mr. Darcy. "And your business this evening was fortuitously truncated?"

Darcy, well he knew when he was being slighted.

"You could say that...Darcy, he could not stand still long enough and still enough, and I was feeling quite restless myself, so we decided that before retiring to Netherfield for the evening, we ought to call here to see how the party here was doing..."

"We've had quite an interesting evening...the conversation has touched...various matters," she hoped the warning would be picked up.

Sure enough, he, unlike other ignorant boors in the house tonight, was clever enough to understand she was trying to get across a message. Mr. Bingley let himself fall into the conversation as well. "Anything that puzzles you?"

"Why, as I am not a well-educated, learned woman," she began humbly. "I was simply baffled when my cousin Mr. Collins told me of his profession..."

"And that would be?"

"The church. I was unaware how the livings worked, and bequests..." she said softly, letting her gaze turn up to Mr. Darcy, who met her eyes in full understanding.

"Well, Darcy should explain it to you some time."

Mr. Darcy jolted at the mention of his name.

"I think he shall. Mr. Wickham has given me so many little details as to befuddle me completely..." she uttered the name with a viciousness that conveyed all that she thought of that man.

Mr. Darcy contained the warm smile into a soft glimmer in his eyes, knowing his actions were being closely observed by other parties in the room. "I know quite a bit of those things, you know." He did not keep his gaze on her for very long, and turned away, to stare aloofly into the fireplace.

She wanted to burst out laughing. It was too adorable and too wonderful how he accomplished such an air of elegant distance while exchanging such serious matters with her. And looking at his profile, seeing touches of the anger for Mr. Wickham, she knew, as she did while Wickham was telling it, that Wickham's story was fictitious.

It was not all. Wickham personally affected Mr. Darcy. Wickham made the dislike between the two evident, though she was pretty sure it was not all on Mr. Darcy's side. And Darcy as of yet had not done anything to show that he liked or disliked Mr. Wickham, which revealed absolutely nothing.

But beware of handsome men... she heard Liam's warning, looking at Mr. Darcy's handsome profile.

Until she could get a fair assessment from Mr. Darcy, she could not judge against Mr. Wickham. But she was at least allowed to feel an inclination, correct?

October 21

Dearest friend,

The cats are out tonight, but to make matters worse, I think the men have gotten involved in the dance of the favors.

I am proud to say that I am now the receiver of the attentions of two very disgusting gentlemen.

And as for the last gentleman... Elizabeth decided that Mr. Darcy did not deserve to be mentioned in the same letter as the other two.

The chase has begun in earnest, my dear Liam. I thought that I could wait for you, forever to ride up to my door and save me...but...

She started the letter over.

October 21

Dearest Liam,

Blunders abound tonight, my darling. The chase has picked up in earnest, and not a rich man is in sight. Please, my dear friend, if you care at all, send a rich man after me, so that I may marry him instead.

Or if you are rich yourself, come and pursue me, as I am sure that we could spend our whole marriage content and away from each other, as my father and mother do.

The degeneration of truth in the modern man is alarming, and upsetting. As a speaker of our times, I have to say it is a sad day indeed when a woman must wonder at the truth of a man's words as well as his words themselves. It is hard to distinguish the rich from the pretending to be rich, and again, Liam, I find myself at odds and in befuddlement. And the charming. Well, I have at least made a conclusion on that: they are all liars!

With the exception of you, dearest.

Beth.

November 15

Dearest Beth,

I am sorry that the route of courtship seems so difficult to you.

A rich man, my dear, is a precious commodity. So I cannot tell you that I know of any to spare; most of the ones I know have been consumed with passions for themselves or for women who probably would not like to share.

Should he tell her he's met Jane? No...

Not yet. It would just be too confusing. And what was there to tell? Hello, I met your friend and I think she's lovely; I'd like to court her, if you wouldn't mind...

Was it even Beth's business?

Well, he felt that somehow, it was. But he could not come up with a logical reason why. Other than that she was very close to his heart, and he felt that she ought to know.

And yet, he dreaded telling her. What would she think of him?

What she thought of him did matter, very much to him. Of course. They were very important to each other...right?

Contemplating the tip of his pen, he mused on his next sentences.

The invitation to Netherfield's ball caused entirely too much commotion for Elizabeth to be pleased with it. Mr. Collins was being entirely too forward in assuming her wanting to dance with him, and her mother was being entirely too excited about it.

And Jane...of course dear Jane was not anyone to complain to. Walking around with her heart in her eyes, Jane was not only inadequate for confessions, she was also a cause for Elizabeth's concern; was Charles not very careful about his advances? Were his sisters not a little too amiable; did they not seem as suspicious as Elizabeth had supposed? She did not like the situation at all, but continued to encourage her sister's affections, only hoping they were as ardently returned as she hoped.

On that score, Elizabeth would have been relieved to know, she had no need to worry; the affections of Charles Bingley of Netherfield had never been so devotedly engaged, no not ever.

The darker contemplations of his friend, at this moment, were quite unknown to everyone. He only knew that he had to tell Jane Bennet the truth of George Wickham. And beyond that, well, Fitzwilliam Darcy had concluded that he liked to take each step at a time. It was the wisest route.

Part 7

The candlelight waltzed in circles about the room, and Hill admired her mistress's hair as she plaited it and curled it, and tucked it into beautiful elegant folds. Elizabeth watched in wonder. "Missy Hill..." she teased the servant with the name she used to call her as a child. "How do you do all that? I swear you must have stabbed my hair to death with all those pins, and yet it has never looked so fine..."

Hill scoffed, and gave a soft pat on the girl's ear, where a beautiful bauble caught the light, spinning rainbows around the room. "You'll be the loveliest young lady there...I'll not have one of my girls shown up by some city folk" she scoffed at the gossip she'd heard of the Bingley sisters' beauty and elegance.

The entrance of Mrs. Bennet disrupted the beautifully serene scene. "Hill don't waste your time with Lizzy. It's so obvious that Jane needs some assistance, and Lizzy may fend for herself," her mother rolled her eyes as she left.

Lydia came rushing in now with a gown of pink. Her cheeks were rushed and full with color, and her eyes sparkling in enthusiasm. "Lizzy? What do you think? Kitty says absolutely not, but I think it looks wonderful enough." She pressed the fabric to her skin, trying to distinguish if it assisted her complexion or not.

Lizzy rolled her eyes, checking her curls. "You know I care little for those matters..."

"And I'm sure that's why you're primping in front of the mirror now. Fine, if you shan't help me, I'm sure that Jane will." She made to leave, but then turned around, rushed to the chair that Elizabeth sat at, and wrapped her arms around her beautiful sister's elegant neck. "Queen Lizzy, you're so pretty. I'm glad I look like you. The redcoats here are all very well, of course, but when I know I can catch the eye of a gentleman like Mr. Darcy," she teased, "I have to think it over. Hats or men. Hats or men."

Lizzy laughed at her sister's attempt at nicety. "Well if you chose hats, I highly advise getting dressed, because they, unlike redcoats, like their women clothed at first."

Lizzy simply could not arrange the curl right. Lydia took it, teased it with a tug, and it fell right into place. "Magic touch I guess," she laughed.

Lizzy stood up, and took her sister's arms, holding them out from her body. "Lydia, you're growing so tall and beautiful."

"I know, isn't it grand?"

"Are you serious about wanting hats and money and rich men?"

"Perhaps..."

"Well, then if you want to live long enough to catch the attention of a young single gentleman of wealth, I advise you to not tell Mama about Mr. Darcy's attentions to me. Because I will go at you myself with a sword if she comes after me like she does Jane."

Lydia giggled. "You can't hide your inclinations for long. Your sentiments, and even his, are not very well hidden, you know, but I have to say that the only reason why I noticed was because Wickham was doing some awful fast talking with you the other night at Aunt Phillips's. He doesn't like Darcy, does he?"

Lizzy narrowed her eyes at her sister, who was now slipping into the gown, as she was interested in carrying on the conversation with her sister. Elizabeth proceeded to button up the miles of minuscule buttons on Lydia's back. "No, Mr. Wickham does not like Mr. Darcy."

"I don't think Mr. Darcy likes Mr. Wickham either, but at least Mr. Darcy is a gentleman about it...Mr. Wickham was all over you, and I dare say very hideous..." At her sister's look of surprise and worry, she continued quickly, "Oh do not worry. Jane and I noticed his crude advances, and we made sure that the attention at the tables was kept on us while he was doing that ridiculous leering of his...oh Lizzy, why must the handsome always be so..."

"Stupid and slimy?" Lizzy completed.

"I was thinking more along the lines of despicable. When we first met him, oh I confess I was very taken in by his handsomeness. But then there was the exchange between Darcy and him, and then later his own odd manners. And then to put firm conclusion on the matter, Denny told me rumors he'd heard when he first met Wickham. Mr. Wickham never told them to him, but well, the rumors, they're quite devastating. I had intended to come to warn you, though I think you handled things quite elegantly and effectively the other night. So instead, I will congratulate you."

Lizzy laughed and hugged her sister. "And you are now the protector of women's virtues?"

"Well, at least the Bennet women's..."

Lizzy started to play with Lydia's hair. Lydia sat in happy silence, glorying in the attention of one of her favorite sisters (though she would have killed herself before admitting it). She had missed Elizabeth dreadfully when she had gone on her journeys. Mama continued to whine about the absent daughter she did not really care for (which got on everybody's nerves), and then Papa was so forlorn without her. Maybe one day she'd be as important to him as her sister.

"You talk with Denny a great deal."

Lydia blushed.

Lizzy smiled, and kissed her sister on the cheek. "You're adorable."

"I know he is not as wealthy as Mr. Darcy or Bingley, but he's a sweet soul, and he's very straightforward and honest with what he says. You won't believe how wonderful that is..."

I can imagine.

Lydia continued. "He's fearfully clever though. Did you know he wanted to study medicine before his family thought it was better if he joined the regiment? And he's so well-read..." Her sophomoric attempts at gaining his attentions in her previous manners had failed miserably. Her showering him with attentions did nothing to distinguish her from the rest of the town floozies who were falling over him. And then Lydia finally realized the mark that would set her aside: she was a Bennet girl, and perhaps it was time to show Denny that a Bennet girl was a very extraordinary thing to be.

"As every man ought to be...and so I will help you out in your endeavors to win him; I shan't tell Mama about him yet, so long as you don't tell her about anything about Mr. Darcy."

Lydia giggled. "I only refrained from telling Mama because she'd send the whole house into another uproar, and I need Papa to be in a good humor. I plan on asking Papa if I may buy the bonnet we had seen in the shop the other day, so if I'm behaving..." she teased in that little girl manner of hers.

Elizabeth laughed at her sister, and caressed her sister's cheek. "Take care to look your best, and if you don't fall all over Denny, perhaps Papa will consider it. And if you leave me be, and hold yourself well, perhaps I'll even put in a good word for you."

Lydia clapped her hands in triumph and delight, and spun in an exit.

Jane not came in, looking around, and slipped a letter into Elizabeth's hand. "It came this afternoon. I would have given it to you earlier, but you appeared busy..."

"Lydia..." she sighed to her sister. "She's..."

"Yes," Jane nodded. "Is it not so befuddling? All this time, she'd seemed so silly and high strung, and now...I'm almost positive it's a young man..." Jane looked to Elizabeth for confirmation.

Elizabeth kept her lips in a straight line. "I'll watch her tonight. Perhaps it is..."

"You know something..." Jane poked at Elizabeth's curls.

"Perhaps I do, perhaps I don't...but either way, I would have to say that I'm sworn to secrecy. Only know that she is very well off, and is in no danger of becoming the silliest woman who ever lived."

"Now we just have to get Mary out of her books, right?" Jane teased.

Lizzy mused. "Oh, Mary is fine for now. She knows herself, and can watch herself. Though I hear she has taken pains tonight with her appearance. The way Kitty told it, I heard a well-read redcoat has caught her eye, and she is determined to make him look up from his book..."

"Sanderson? Oh, what a nice youth..."

"Yes, and a close friend of Carter's, whom if I am not mistaken, is very close to Kitty..." Lizzy trailed off with a sly smile.

"I wonder if Mama knows of all the weddings that are going on through your mind right now, Lizzy."

"Let us hope she never discovers them, for we will not have rest if she ever does..."

"I shall leave you to your letter now, dearest..."

"All right," she sighed in contentment as she opened the letter.

November 18

Dearest friend,

Affections engage and events...happen, but I write this to tell you that my regard for you does not ever change. Your correspondence has been one of the most important in my life.

I should say that I am oddly sentimental tonight, and rather weary. Blunders do abound tonight, and I find myself...trapping quite a bit of people and things...

Whenever you and I may meet again, I would like you to know that whomever we may seem to be then, you are still my one Beth.

Liam.

The puzzling letter made Elizabeth read the words twice before trying to find any meaning. Whatever was he saying? Oh dear sweet clueless Liam, how she loved him.

She kissed the letter, traced his signature, and spoke softly to the air. "You are a strange one, Liam, but you are important to me as well. I only hope you can imagine all that you have been to me..."

"Lizzy...Mama has been a whirlwind mess, wondering why you have not yet come down," Mary gusted into her doorway. "And here you are, daydreaming," she said wryly.

"Mary, you look magnificent."

"Indeed I do...so are you going to get in the carriage with us so I can get to the ball to be fervently admired by many men?"

Elizabeth took both Mary's and Jane's hands in excitement as they went up the steps to Netherfield.

Magical. Elizabeth never felt so magical in her life.

Allowing herself to be swept into the greeting line, she widely grinned as Mr. Darcy approached her and offered his arm.

She took it with as much decorum and calm as she could muster.

Her heart tumbled into her stomach, and then her brain as she tried to gain her equilibrium; she'd be wary. She had to hear him tell his story, but she was pretty sure, from Lydia's own words, that Wickham was indeed a very despicable character. If she, or any other woman, did not have the warnings of Denny, then they could have found themselves trapped into marriage with...

"Blunders abound, and I find myself trapping..." Oh of course Liam was not George Wickham. The workings of Liam's mind were certainly above the scope of George's imagination. But certainly, even in Liam's sarcastic tones, "trapping" meant...marriage.

Was that what Liam meant? She bit on her inner lip to keep herself from thinking too much, to focus her attentions on the handsome, very congenial man in front of her.

"Is anything the matter, Miss Bennet?" Darcy asked, concerned. Oh, he knew he should not have stolen her from Charles, as his friend was so ardently in awe of her...but...

Jane was exquisite tonight. Her dark curls entangled his attentions, and her eyes held his thoughts captive. He had to approach her. And it broke his heart. Writing the letter to Beth...he had not made a decision then, and certainly if Beth found out he was to marry one of her closest friends...and what about Charles?

And what would happen when he saw Beth again? He loved her, yes. He LOVED her...in a way that he could not explain.

Looking into Jane Bennet's eyes, though...he felt his heart pushing on his chest in a horrible pain...the pain of loving too many people. How ironic, Fitzwilliam Darcy, who never thought he'd love, found two women he was devoted to...ardently...

But Jane's face was pale. She was upset. And why was that?

Fitzwilliam looked around the room and frowned as his gaze rested on the sight that was certainly the cause for her distress.

Charles, gazing so adoringly into the blue eyes of a blonde? Oh no...

And there she was...poor thing...so she probably did feel a lot for his friend.

"Come, Miss Bennet, I think you need a turn about the room."

Elizabeth found herself dragged into the ballroom before she knew what happened, and gave a quivering smile to Mr. Darcy. "I thank you sir..."

"Oh my dear Cousin..."

The voice put her back into herself, and she stood in the situation awkwardly with Mr. Darcy on her right and Mr. Collins on her left. "What is it, Mr. Collins?" she tried to maintain her air of composure.

"You had promised me the first set..."

"Oh yes, indeed I had." She needed some time away from Mr. Darcy, to think about Liam. "Are you claiming my hand now, sir?" she smiled dazzlingly to her cousin.

Mr. Collins stood back in surprise. When she smiled so widely, one was inclined to be scared. Surely, smiling was a wonderful practice, but it certainly must be unhealthy to be exposing so much teeth! Ignoring those sentiments, though, he took his cousin's hand possessively, and guided her to the dance floor.

She shivered at her second set with her cousin, and let her face light up in blatant exaltation as Charles Bingley claimed her afterwards.

"Your sister said that you were probably in grave need for assistance."

"Yes, I thank you sir," she said as she took a swirling circle around him in time with the rhythms of music and swishing skirts. "I do not know what possessed me to dance with him..."

Charles laughed, and guided her through the dance.

Elizabeth gloried in her sisters' happiness. Lydia was calmly and deliberately sitting out a dance, talking quietly with Denny, and Sanderson was slowly putting his book aside, paying attentions to Mary, who was demurely sitting and fluttering her eyelashes beautifully. Kitty stood by her mother quietly, but held Captain Carter's gaze and thoughts tenaciously.

Darcy watched, gritting his teeth. He didn't know what was to happen, but he had to speak with Jane.

After the dance, he approached the couple, and said quietly to Elizabeth, "I must speak to you, on very urgent matters."

She nodded her head, and Darcy turned to Bingley. "Can I use your library?"

"Let her go first, and after some time you will follow."

Elizabeth nodded her head, and left quickly. Bingley retained his friend's arm. "Darcy, watch what you say to her tonight. She seems mightily preoccupied with something."

"As if you didn't know..." he muttered under his breath, leaving his "friend" behind.

After a duration of five minutes, he found Miss Bennet in the library, reading out of one of the few editions in the house. He cleared his throat.

She jumped, gasped, and dropped the book. "Mr. Darcy."

"Miss Bennet."

They bowed.

"Is not the bow the strangest practice, Miss Bennet?" he proceeded to muse.

She kept silent.

"One can bow to acknowledge or insult."

"Everything one does can be done derisively, insultingly," Miss Bennet quickly returned.

"Ah, then how is one to greet the woman he has so pleasantly mused on the past few weeks?"

Elizabeth quickly inhaled. The breath was sharp and painful. "I cannot hear this right now, Mr. Darcy."

Fitzwilliam turned away from her, and then turned back. "I don't know what to say for you, because my own feelings are mixed in such a way...with..."

"Then do not speak of it...Mr. Darcy, please understand...my heart...I am convinced...belongs to another..."

"You are convinced?" he laughed bitterly.

"Oh don't try to make sense of me now!" she turned on him. "I highly suggest, Mr. Darcy, you leave me to my own devices. You are very handsome, and very wonderful, and...but I can't make any hasty judgments right now, and I know that if I chose to make a decision now, I would very much regret it, whatever it was. I beg your leave, sir," she ran out.

How could such a wonderful evening end so horribly? she wiped her tears, and tried to smile as she rejoined the party.

Part 8

The next day, Elizabeth received and turned down a proposal, and Charlotte Lucas accepted one.

After being caught engaged in some less than gentlemanly behaviors the night of the Netherfield Ball (which he had declined to attend) George Wickham was forced to marry a shopkeeper's daughter.

And just disgusted with everything, and full of indecision and sadness, Elizabeth Bennet left for London with her Aunt Gardiner after the Gardiners came to visit for Christmas.

She was tired of the dance and go of emotions and courtship. She hated them. And she certainly hated Mr. Darcy!

Well, hate was a strong word. She didn't really hate him. She just had some problems right now. And they focused on him and Liam.

Liam, who still remained ever distant to her...

She still had not written him back...it had been...quite a bit of time.

What does one say to a man you love, who is in fact in love with someone else?

A bout of restlessness did not allow her good sleep, and she found herself, many an hour, watching life coalesce on the London street.

This was, after all, where it had all began...

January 14

Dearest friend,

I have been remiss in our correspondence only because of lack of a muse. I have no...engagements to speak of...to my hand or heart. And I confess it did surprise me to see that your mind has been more agreeably engaged.

Not to mean that I resent your having love while I don't...

No, Liam, I could never blame you.

I am in London again, and now, I feel sixteen once more. Perhaps if I attended another ball, you would find me there?

I want to see you again...

February 13

Dearest friend,

You must be truly mistaken if you thought me in love...

Or at least mistaken that I could be so fortunate to engage the woman's attentions...

I do not remember if I revealed any inclination of matrimony in my last letter, and we have always strived to keep such small personal details from each other, but I will now reveal that as of yet I remain unmarried.

Dearest Beth, I will not confess that I await a woman with tastes similar to your own. With a mind like your own.

What if you would have me? Angered, he tore the letter apart. Could he be so shallow as to be in love with two women at once?

Fitzwilliam Darcy left Hertfordshire not long after the wedding of Miss Lucas and Mr. Collins. He offered many apologies to his friends, but he also said that he had overstayed his welcome, and that business required his presence elsewhere.

And so he dwelled on his personal problems in his London townhouse, in the company of his favorite cousin.

"Cousin Darcy! Whatever is the matter? That is the tenth letter I've seen feed the flames."

"Richard!" he turned an smiled to the colonel. "It is of little matter. I've just had difficulties voicing my sentiments lately to Georgiana...you know she is of the age where it is difficult to really talk with her..."

"Then perhaps you should get married, and then your wife can help."

Darcy turned from his cousin. "Sometimes, I wish I could," he uttered under his breath. He wanted to tell his cousin of his problems...but certainly it was too complex for him to understand, so he refrained from telling him anything...of Beth, or of Jane Bennet, or any Bennet girls.

"Come now, I've got an invitation to put up with our Aunt Catherine and her attentions in April. What say you we go and terrorize her with prospects of unequal marriages?"

March 2

Dearest Lizzy,

I wish you could have been at the ceremony, but I confess there was not much to watch. We said our vows, and just as quickly, left for the parsonage.

The parsonage is very cozy, Lizzy. It is comfortable enough...

Lizzy...we did not get to talk before you left. Please, Lizzy, write to me, or better yet, visit me later this month with my rather and Mariah. They can take you from Gracechurch Street.

It has been entirely too long for friends as intimate as us. Please, do not scoff at the woman who has married for what she has deemed important in life. You know I never wanted to marry for love. That was an impossibility. While there are certain...idiocies to my new husband, I must say that I have never been so pleased in my life. We have a very comfortable home, and a patroness who is as generous with her money as she is with her advice. And I am content. Please, Lizzy...I want you to know that I am content.

Now I hope you are not a stranger and choose not to come to Hunsford. It really is quite beautiful here; the scenery almost entirely makes up for the lack of intellectual stimulation. We shall ponder the souls of honey and muse on the laments of a daisy. Please Lizzy, do come.

Charlotte...er...Collins

The signature had been written to amuse and wheedle her emotions, Lizzy knew, and was effective. Oh she missed Charlotte. They had not long to talk before Lizzy rushed off in retreat from Hertfordshire.

"Aunt Gardiner? I think I shall be cutting my visit short a few weeks; I have just received an invitation from Mrs. Charlotte Collins, and I would like to visit with her. I only have to write to her family to let them know to stop by and bring me with them, and inform my father of my change of plans."

Elizabeth's Aunt Gardiner smiled congenially, and as the girl got up to leave the drawing room, sighed with relief; it was time she stopped moping around the house: Dulcie was taking after Elizabeth!

March 5

Dearest Sister,

Oh Lizzy, Papa misses you so...he is all a coil of consternation and exasperation right now; I don't blame him. Mama has gone into loud lamentations on how her daughter does not really care for her family, always gallivanting about the country.

You are well though Lizzy, and that is good. And I am glad you are gone to visit Charlotte. She confessed to me that she would miss you a great deal, and if asked, I was to sway you to making the journey in later this month. I am glad it is not necessary.

Mr. Bingley's advances are being very well received by Jane, much to the shock of his sisters, who, as Hill has informed me, have been urging him (unsuccessfully) to follow Mr. Darcy into London. He is attentive, and very congenial, and Mama hopes to have them engaged by the end of this month, which is very possible.

Kitty and Mary send their love, and are enjoying the attentions of their own young men, to the delight of Mama. Sanderson seems to be on the brink of proposal every week, and I wish the stupid man would get it over with and engage her already. And Captain Carter, well, Kitty seems quite pleased, though Mama is not, as there is not yet a ring on her finger, nor a wedding in sight.

And finally, Denny. Lizzy, oh I love him! I'm sure I do! This is not one of my shallow redcoat admirations, I assure you, for this time, whenever I hear his name, my heart actually tumbles and melts and burns at the same time. And whenever his gaze falls upon me, I have to say my whole mind unravels and I can hardly speak. He must think me fearfully stupid; I have not said a sentence lasting more than five words in the past month! And you know how my wit charms others...if only I could use it on him!

Lizzy sighed in contentment at her sister's sarcastic teasing.

Seriously, Lizzy...Denny is very special. And that is all I am to say, for fear of being teased to death!

Yours,

Lydia

"Four sisters? All out?"

"Yes, that is correct. Would you like me to count them again?"

Charlotte contained her laugh, but managed to let a small glimmer slip into her eyes.

"Mrs. Collins! I do believe something is wrong with you! Your complexion is far too bright!"

Charlotte smothered another chortle, and shook her head. "I am quite healthy Lady Catherine. If I appear over bright it is only out of sheer joy for seeing my friend..."

"If you believe in such sappy nonsense."

Lizzy met Charlotte's eyes, and winked at her. Mr. Collins's jaw dropped open in mortification, hoping Lady Catherine saw nothing of the exchange between the two women. He'd have to talk to Charlotte about Elizabeth's presence. She was entirely too flamboyant. What a relief that they did not marry! She would have been his downfall!

"My nephews will arrive soon. They are counting the minutes, my nephew the respectable Colonel Fitzwilliam informs me."

"Ah yes, the army is such a respectable-"

"Oh do be quiet, Mr. Collins."

"Yes, of course, Madam."

"I am sure you have never met finer gentlemen than my nephews. I am sure you have not met any gentlemen at all..." she said to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth smiled politely and tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice as she replied, in dulcet tones. "I am sure that an uneducated young woman such as myself cannot even begin to imagine what a real gentleman is like."

March 16

Dearest Lizzy,

While you are at Hunsford, we have been merrily carrying on without you, changing the household in such a way that you should net even recognize your own family.

What do you think? Mr. Bingley and Jane are to be married! He asked for Papa's permission last night, and Papa readily agreed to it, and Mama is going into convulsions, rambling on and on about the dresses, the carriages, the...oh Lizzy, I wish you were home to quiet her...but at least she does not muse on her absent daughter anymore, as there are more pleasant things to occupy her time.

Jane is positively radiant now. She does not speak of her joy, as that is totally unlike her; she simply radiates and radiates until you can't see anything but that blasted sparkling smile of hers.

I confess, dear Lizzy, that though I sound very harsh, I am quite happy for her...but is there such thing as having so much fortune that it goes bad? I only hope not; I think Mary's Sanderson is ready to test his luck with the lady and the father...Denny's given me indications...

Oh dearest Lizzy, come home quick. I fear I shall die trying to absorb everyone's happiness!

Yours,

Lydia

"Mr. Darcy!" She left the letter fall to her feet.

"Miss Bennet."

They bowed.

She was speechless. It was the first time they had been alone since his coming to Hunsford. It was already a shock enough that he was in fact Lady Catherine's nephew (a minor detail that everyone had failed to inform her of). And he always stared at her so sadly.

Being a gentleman, he offered his arm, and insisted upon escorting her home. She accepted.

Didn't she feel it? Darcy wondered. That simply urgency, the spinning of the world, every single time they touched? Surely she must have felt it.

He watched her expression. He turned away from her, then, and let their arms untangle. "I am sorry, Miss Bennet. I just recalled some business I need to take care of back at the manor. If I may..."

"Darcy!"

The two jumped, turning to Colonel Fitzwilliam, who joined them. "Perfect timing, cousin. I was just telling Miss Bennet that I needed to attend to some business back at the manor, and could not escort her back to the parsonage. Could you perhaps accompany her, cousin?"

"I would be honored."

Darcy bowed, and quickly left. Elizabeth wanted to reach out and keep him back.

Upon his arriving at Hunsford, Elizabeth did not know what to say to him, how to act. Did he know about the engagement between his friend and her sister?

And of course, her own rejection of his advances that last night of Netherfield, the last time they had seen each other...Elizabeth shook her head, trying to clear her mind of all the confusion she felt.

He'd been attentive in the presence of others, and sometimes she even fancied that she saw the warmth of his gaze once more...that the adoration she'd seen once was still there.

And she clung to it.

Liam had not written.

Perhaps her over-eager observation of Mr. Darcy was the desperate action of a woman who had her feelings scorned. Perhaps...Elizabeth dropped the sad thoughts, and concentrated on being as pleasant as possible to his cousin. "I had not heard you tell Lady Catherine how long you are to stay."

"That is because we are uncertain of that ourselves. My cousin has had his thoughts occupied for some time, and I wrote to cousin Anne to get her mother to invite us here, as a means of cheering him up. We usually come to Hunsford together to laugh at our Aunt. Her daughter Anne is a great friend of mine, and the three of us get along wonderfully. I do not know a happier place in my memory than here. Darcy must be troubled quite a bit to still be moping, and I'm almost positive it is a woman."

Elizabeth kept her expression unreadable. "A woman? Really, a reason as trite as a woman?"

"I would say that the woman herself would have to be anything but trite. If I may be so bold, may I ask what your Christian name is?"

"Elizabeth."

"Ah..." the Colonel said, hiding his disappointment fairly well.

But not well enough. "You seem disappointed. Do you possess a hatred for the name Elizabeth?"

"Oh no. Well, as long as you don't have the name, I guess I could tell you. Before we left for Hunsford, I had heard reports from other people, friends, that one of his friends is to get married to one Jane Bennet. When I told Darcy, he paled. I think he was involved with her..."

My that was quick... And there she was, thinking that he'd been in love with HER the whole time...when he was really just newly heartbroken over her sister. There must have been a logical reason, or misunderstanding, but...

Well, he always offered explanations, but never once told her of them...Mr. Wickham's involvement in his past remained a puzzle to her, and while it was partly her fault for not allowing them time alone long enough for him to tell her the whole story, he could have at least persisted in telling her the story, correct?

Frustrated, she walked faster. "You know Jane Bennet?" Colonel followed.

"You could say that..." she replied.

"Well you must understand that I am very curious about her...my cousin has never been in love before..."

Sure, you can tell yourself that...but we both know that isn't true. She almost scoffed aloud, but instead remained calm, veiling her frustration and hurt as well as she could.

The rest of the walk proceeded in silence, and Elizabeth left the Colonel not a moment too soon, and joined Mariah in the drawing room just in time to help her decide what to wear to Hunsford that night for dinner.

Elizabeth did not want to go to Hunsford. She told Charlotte that she felt ill, and that she did not want to deal with anyone tonight. Charlotte reluctantly agreed to leave her friend behind (the night would be horribly dull now) and left with her husband, father and sister.

"She's not with them tonight," the Colonel observed from the window.

"Perhaps Lady Catherine ceases to amuse her." Darcy stared at the mirror, taking pains to look as starched and stiff as possible.

"Do not pretend your apathy...please do not, because I know she cares for you a great deal..."

Darcy looked up from straightening his coat. "What did you say?"

"Well, she was very upset when I told her about your involvement with Miss Jane Bennet...and your reaction to her engagement..."

"You fool! It's because she is Jane Bennet!"

Colonel's eyes widened in surprise at his cousin's big mistake, "But..."

"You've done enough, man. I must speak with her. Make my apologies to Lady Catherine and Anne."

Colonel followed him out of the room and down the staircase. "But Darcy..." He politely smiled at the guests who just arrived.

Well let Darcy find out on his own, then. He greeted the Lucases and the Collinses. "Good afternoon. It appears that my cousin has some urgent business to take care of..."

"Mr. Darcy to see you, Miss."

"Um...show him in."

"Miss Bennet."

"Mr. Darcy."

They bowed, and an awkward silence ensued. "Are we that much estranged from each other that we cannot have a normal conversation anymore?" Elizabeth asked, clearing her throat.

Darcy allowed himself some mindless remark on the weather, which Elizabeth seized upon to reply to.

While she mindlessly mused on the condition of roads, he watched her expression for any indication.

And suddenly he was frustrated. He was in love with her, and her friend, and his friend was in love with her. And it was all a mess. "Miss Bennet, please I did not come here to have a normal conversation."

"Then what did you come here to talk about?" Elizabeth tried to keep her air light. "I can always talk of odd things too, you know..."

"I came to talk to you about Charles, and you, and me."

"Charles?"

"Charles is a very good friend of mine, and I know he'd hardly approve of my saying this...but...Miss Bennet, you MUST allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

"Love?" What did Charles have to do with this? Did Charles not like her? And what about Jane?

"It's been tearing at my soul for some time. To be in love with you, and..."

"I do not think you should speak any more of this love of yours...your affections have been, for some time, been engaged elsewhere..." she replied coldly. My SISTER...How could you?

She knows? Beth told her? But I never told Beth my name... It would not be too smart for her to find out the connection, though; but still, the likelihood that she already knew was very... She was waiting for a reply. "I cannot explain that regard. And I still don't know how that will conclude..."

"You don't know? I would think that it is obvious that it should be ended by now. She is engaged. Or has your friend failed to inform you of it?" she said icily.

Beth, engaged?

Confused, he fell back in his chair, and reviewed the web to himself. He was in love with Beth first. He communicated with Beth through Jane. He fell in love with Jane. And now Jane said that Beth was engaged? So they were both engaged?

So he really did not know that Jane was engaged to Charles? Elizabeth almost felt sorry for him. "I think you should leave."

"I think I should too..."

"Darcy, how did it go?" Colonel asked in a low voice.

He wanted to growl at his cousin for sending him on a fool's errand. "Not well. Excuse me. I have a letter to write."

Colonel watched his cousin rush upstairs with concern.

"Miss Bennet, please, slow down."

"I will not."

The walk did not do anything to clear her mind. She had slipped away from the parsonage early, needing new air to help her think things over. What did Charles have to do with anything? He was just such a confusing man.

And she had run into him. "Please, Miss Bennet, I have one last request of you..." he pleaded.

"And then you'll leave me alone?"

Those words hurt. Darcy swallowed. "Yes," he said, tersely.

"Fine, I'll take the letter."

He looked into her insolent eyes, saw the traces of pain, but did not mention them. He put the letter into her hand, and bowed deeply. "I wish you the best that fortune has to offer."

With that, he took her hand, kissed it, and left her with the letter.

She felt the tears well up in her eyes as she saw him leave. She wanted to reach out for him, but kept her hands clenched on the letter.

When he'd gone over the hill and out of her sight, she looked down at the letter in her hand.

And wiped her tears.

No, there must still have been something in her eyes.

"To Miss Jane Bennet".

In Liam's handwriting.

Conclusion

Elizabeth stared at the letter in her hand. Did he mean this for her sister? No, he had not.

She had to wonder at what he meant.

"Lizzy! Lizzy!"

Elizabeth turned to Charlotte who now joined her. "Oh Lizzy!" she caught up to her friend. "The gentlemen of Rosings are taking their leave; Mr. Darcy is not yet there, but the Colonel is demanding your presence. Lizzy, dearest, whatever is the matter?"

"Charlotte, we do not have time for explanations, but should Mr. Darcy stop by the parsonage today to take his leave, you must say my full name in conversation, somehow."

"Lizzy, do I get an explanation?"

"Not yet, as we must get back to the parsonage. I feel that I know what the Colonel wishes to inform me of. I will inform you of the particulars of what has been causing my distress later."

Charlotte nodded her head, and took her friend's arm. Elizabeth tucked the letter in the folds of her dress.

The walk back was in silence; Charlotte acknowledged Elizabeth's need for silence and time for contemplation, though not really know the cause of her distress. Perhaps it involved the very odd behavior of Mr. Darcy the night before? The introspection, Charlotte concluded wryly, was contagious. Was Lizzy really in love with Mr. Darcy, as she had once joked?

Charlotte's face paled at the idea that her friend could be going through such agonies. She would ferret every why and wherefore later. For now, she would play the part of hostess and make sure that Elizabeth Anne Bennet's name was uttered loud and clear.

"I thought I would be forced to leave before you got back," Colonel said. "We are leaving within the half hour, I stopped by to say there has been a grave misunderstanding..."

"Mr. Darcy," the servant announced.

The gentleman was surprised to see her so soon again, but managed to hide his reaction quickly, within a fraction of a heartbeat.

"Mr. Darcy, do sit down..." Charlotte said.

Colonel looked at Elizabeth, who nodded to him, conveying that she already knew the full situation. Relieved, he took a seat as well.

"We cannot stay for long. We would like to be on our way to London very soon. Lady Catherine has agreed to let us kidnap Anne, despite concerns for her health," Mr. Darcy smiled charmingly to Mrs. Collins.

Would that he smiled that way to me... Elizabeth almost let her eyes glaze in admiration, and focused on Mrs. Collins, and then on the Colonel. Please sir, help me convince to that man that I am not the woman he thinks I am...

"Why must everyone leave me?" Mrs. Collins began. "You gentlemen have been considerably wonderful company. Together, you have made Miss de Bourgh very happy with your presence, and Lady Catherine has never let us leave Rosings with such little advice. I do now know how we shall carry on without you. And now you take away Miss de Bourgh with you as well. And soon Lizzy is to leave me."

"Lizzy?" Mr. Darcy inquired, confused.

Elizabeth glared at the Colonel now with urgency. Please. Colonel now understood her plea, and approached the situation with tact. "Yes, indeed." He leaned forward. "Miss Lucas, I am sure Miss Elizabeth Bennet's presence has been a joy."

"Yes, and she is to return to Longbourn soon, at the end of this fortnight. Her sister, Miss Jane Bennet, you see, is to wed within a month."

Elizabeth dared not look at Mr. Darcy.

And Mr. Darcy looked out the window, his brow low in a storm cloud of thought.

"Anne de Bourgh..." the maid announced.

There were entirely too many people in the room. While Mr. Collins would have delighted in the presence of so many of the relations of his noble patroness, Charlotte was very much aware that the two visitors who interested her the most would most likely not be able to conclude anything.

"Cousin Darcy, Cousin Fitzwilliam..." Anne de Bourgh smiled after bowing. "Mother demands you to take your leave soon, as it is now the prime time to travel, she claims," she rolled her eyes.

The Colonel stood up, and took his cousin's white hand, and bowed to Elizabeth and Charlotte. "I suppose duty calls. I think I will just rush on ahead. I have some business that I wished to discuss with my Aunt, and Anne's presence would actually be very essential for this..." he gazed on her.

Charlotte's eyes widened at the lock of the two's gazes. Of course! They were in love!

How else could it have been explained? The careful way he spoke around Lady Catherine, the small intimate conversations the cousins shared that always seemed just a product of their closeness of age. No, they were in love! And they wished to marry! Charlotte smiled in appreciation. Well at least someone was finally doing something right around here. "Very well then. I wish you luck in your proposal..."

The two turned to her.

"I mean business proposal...oh never mind."

The two left, walking an intimate two feet away from each other, and hands inching to brush with each other's by accident and fortune.

"You must be pleased with your cousins' happiness..." Charlotte sighed in appreciation.

"Well, I have long wished for their marriage, but I confess that now I am in quite in danger of feeling highly ostracized."

"Oh, how so?"

"It seems that matrimony seems to be quite the fashion, and I find I cannot suit it...as my tastes seem to be quite..."

Charlotte gasped, remembering her previous mission. "Oh, I just remembered that I have to make sure that Mr. Collins calls on the Perkinses later today. I will go and remind him now, as he will make his rounds very soon."

She left in a hurry, and winked at Elizabeth before leaving.

The two sat in uncomfortable silence.

Finally, Darcy disrupted the quiet time of speculation. "Elizabeth Bennet..."

He said her name. Never had she thought her name so beautiful. She cleared her throat and spoke shakily. "Yes, or sometimes, though rarely, Beth."

He remained silent. Words could not express how he felt now. Everything was knotted up in tension and confusion and he just wanted to either fall into laughter or scream at the cruel cruel fate that had decided that their acquaintance be so tangled and messy.

Beth. Elizabeth Bennet. Jane Bennet's sister. Jane Bennet was then...the blonde? "Beth..." he said.

She nodded, clearing her throat. "Aren't the flowers generous this spring?" she uttered. "I told you they were always very generous...they are always generous, but you always say they're so selfish..." she turned to him, eyes sparkling with tears of relief. "And how is Scott, Liam? Does he still refuse to hunt?" Keep on talking, keep this one... she remembered.

The memories. "Good night...dear void..." he said softly, taking her chin in his hands, and gently wiping the tears. "Do not cry...this is a happy reunion, my friend...dearest, devoted friend. You have waited for me...Did you not ask me to come and pursue you, if I were a man of fortune?" he teased.

Elizabeth Bennet, what a beautiful name. His Beth. In love with him.

"Cousin Elizabeth! Mr. Darcy!"

"Oh, hello Mr. Collins..." Mr. Darcy gritted his teeth.

"My wife so ungraciously neglected to inform me of your presence, and I apologize; she is not yet educated on how a true hostess is to act."

The two other occupants of the room now realized that their moment of quiet intimacy was disturbed, and was most likely not to return.

"I think I need some fresh air." Elizabeth stood up.

"Ah yes, and I need to walk back to Rosings. Perhaps you would allow me to escort you some of the distance?"

Mr. Collins looked concern. "My dear cousin. You just went out for a walk..."

"I know, but the grounds here are just so...extensive...and so very....green..." she wrung her hands. "I would like to enjoy them more. I had not fully completed my walk and musings before Charlotte had fetched me to entertain the gentlemen."

Mr. Collins nodded. "Then perhaps I should join you to point out the..."

"Mr. Collins," Charlotte entered the room, her sister behind her. "Forgive me, sir, but I have been looking all over for you. You must call on the Perkinses this afternoon."

"Oh yes, but of course, Charlotte. You are right..." he said.

Charlotte nodded her head. "Yes, and I think Mariah and I shall accompany you."

Mr. Collins, delighted at the prospect of spending time with his wife, agreed to the task readily. "Well, then, Cousin Elizabeth, I hope that you do not overexert yourself and fall over in exhaustion. Lady Catherine disproves of many young women who try to be too active with their delicate constitutions."

Charlotte made a face at Elizabeth as they made to exit.

Left alone once more, Elizabeth stood, and announced that her intention to continue her previous walk was real, and would Mr. Darcy places escort her as she was liable to fall over with exhaustion?

The glitter of mirth in her eyes was a welcome relief, and Mr. Darcy agreed with alacrity, but not before taking the letter out of her hands, and throwing it into the fire.

She watched it with astonishment, and turned to him. "What do you mean by that sir?"

"It would have only served to confuse your further, as, I am sure you have now found out, I thought you your sister."

Elizabeth laughed, startling the maid who was in the other room, as he helped her out of the parsonage and proceeded on their walk.

They walked in silence, at first, he deep in thought and confusion, and she in fear of disrupting the moment. She was walking with Liam once more...

"What's your Christian name?" she began.

"Fitzwilliam Darcy..." he replied, emphasis on the Liam.

She nodded, and stopped suddenly and turned to him, and simply looked at him. Stared at him. Gazed at him.

"Do I meet your approval?" he teased, dimple appearing and making her heart miss a beat.

"I always wondered how you looked now," she softly mused.

He laughed.

"Oh you know what I mean..." she blushed. "C-Can I touch you?" she reached her hand to an errant curl on his forehead.

"I'm not sure that's entirely proper..." he began.

She glared at him, and he laughed.

"Of course you may..."

She tugged at the curl, and caressed the planes of his face. "You're real..."

"And that is a great relief to me..." he teased again.

"Liam..." she whined teasingly back.

He took her hand in his, sending a shiver up and down her arms. She took her hand back to cross her arms and wipe the nervousness away from her.

"This does not do," he said.

"What?" she asked of him. But she knew. What were they to say to each other? Such intimate acquaintances, and still strangers...

His heart felt so light, and the sensation was so heady that he thought that everything would continue to spin. He reveled in it. The carousel was just beginning. "I can't say that neither of us perform to strangers very well. Therefore, I will assume myself a dear acquaintance of yours, and we will continue from there," he said teasingly.

She laughed. "To think that we've known each other so long. You know I had a whole list of things I always wanted to tell Liam in person, and now, they're gone from me...I cannot think anymore, now that you are here beside me."

"That's all right. Your thoughts will return once my presence bores you, but for now, while I have the advantage, I'll think for the both of us and entangle our futures in such a way that when you realize what a trap you've put yourself in you cannot even begin to fathom how to extricate yourself..." he teased.

"So, what are you thinking right now, sir?"

"I am thinking about how beautiful you are, and how I have longed for you. It has been a far too winding road, and I seriously do not know what would have happened had..."

"Shh...Liam..." she put her finger to his lips. "We were to fall in love with each other, over and over again...you, sir, are my fate. And that is the only logical reason I can offer to this whole mess."

He kissed her finger, "Really Beth, such revelations sound awkward and unreal uttered aloud, so believe me when I say that I already know..." and took her hand once more, and kissed the palm.

"I know," she laughed, and burrowed herself into his side. "I cannot sing poetry, and I KNOW you cannot either. And so simply know that I love you, and lack the depth to express it correctly." She paused. "So what other thoughts are you thinking for the both of us?"

"Well, one of them involves a trip back to Hertfordshire with you, in which I speak to your father, and you end up in a gown of white in church."

"I always loved white gowns..." Elizabeth smiled.

"I always loved the church..." he grinned back.

"Just don't tell my cousin that," she laughed.

Charlotte was soon informed of the particulars of the entire story, and the good news was soon accompanied by Anne's delightful information that Lady Catherine refused to attend the wedding of Anne and the Colonel, making them free to wed as quick as they pleased. Together, they ran off to Gretna Green that night, and Mr. Darcy moved to stay in the parsonage; the next day, Darcy, Elizabeth, and Mariah (who reluctantly agreed to play the role of chaperone, even though, she protested, she was entirely too young to think about such old maid duties) left for Longbourn, where they were eager to enlighten the occupants of their mutual love and engagement.

While the love was met with quaint courteous remarks and appreciation, the engagement caused an ebullient enthusiasm that trespassed on many a sadness in the community of Hertfordshire.

Elizabeth's good fortune was not the only subject of attention in the Bennet household; Lydia's own engagement to the newly promoted Captain Denny was another cause of excitement.

The two sisters reveled in the idea of a double wedding, while Jane approached her nuptials later that fortnight.

Of course, Mr. Bennet was applied to for Elizabeth's hand, and he of course approved, as Elizabeth was so in love that she would have ignored him anyhow (though she loved and thought highly of her father).

Such were the happenings of Hertfordshire, and it was no wonder that Elizabeth readily agreed to a short engagement.

The ceremony was adequately lavish, and Georgiana Darcy came to the town to celebrate with her brother, and displayed a sufficient amount of approval and love for her future sister-in-law (the two sisters would grow close with time, and become quite the pair, as would be expected).

The regiment at Meryton moved on, and so Lydia and her husband left with them, taking Mary and Kitty with them. Kitty was soon engaged, and not long after, Mary almost threw the family into very delightful shock by running off to Gretna and marrying Sanderson.

He was, of course, welcomed to the family with open arms, and his inheritance, which he came into at the age of twenty-one, was welcomed with arms even more open.

Whatever transpired after, the authoress concludes, is entirely the business of the characters, but she will not refrain from saying that Elizabeth and Darcy lived within their income (as they had far too much money to actually live beyond) and enjoyed their evenings in quiet and loud conversation with each other (in person) on the subjects of the souls of sunsets and the poetry of the wind, which they found, was much more efficient and effective than silly little epistles.

The End.