Posted on: 2011-04-07

Chapter 11

January 1810

One year and eight months later

Elizabeth was invited to return to London with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner at the conclusion of their visit to Longbourn for the Christmas of her eighteenth year. In their opinion, Elizabeth had been in a state of melancholy for far too long, and they hoped the change would help. Though she attempted to conceal it, their niece's smile did not reach her eyes; her laughter did not ring out with the same enthusiasm that had been present in the past, and when she thought she was not being observed, her countenance betrayed all of her sorrow and disappointment.

During their visit to Longbourn, they discussed with Mr. Bennet and Jane their shared worry for Elizabeth, and all hoped that the trip to town, along with seeing a few plays, attending a concert or two, and accomplishing several shopping trips for her mother and sisters, would at the very least distract her, if not help to cheer her.

At the conclusion of her first week in town, when her beloved aunt and uncle had suggested attending a play, Elizabeth had not bothered to ask what it would be. Knowing they would not go without her, she did not wish to suspend any pleasure of theirs, and so she agreed with feigned enthusiasm. The moment she saw the playbill, she was sorry she had not inquired--if for no other reason than to have had some time to prepare herself. In the end, her relations' attempt at cheering her accomplished quite the opposite.

It was Twelfth Night, which had been her long-time favorite, and while she appreciated the sentiment, because of the memories associated with the play since she and Georgiana had performed it for William, she wished her relations had not extended themselves on her account. As she sat waiting for the first act to begin, she felt an odd sensation that caused her to look up at the boxes to her left, and her heart stopped beating momentarily. "He is here!"

William was entering a box with an older couple and a sophisticated lady, clearly of the ton. Elizabeth's heart wrenched in her chest, and for a long time she could not tear her eyes away from the exquisite torture of looking upon him once again. He was a bit thinner than when she had seen him last, but he was just as handsome as ever.

When the lady sitting next to him reached over to caress William's arm, Elizabeth moved her eyes to examine her. She was about the same age as herself, tall with golden hair--an absolute beauty in the classic sense of the word--and after watching her for a while it could be seen that she was graceful beyond measure. In Elizabeth's opinion, the lady was the exact opposite of herself in every way. Elizabeth was glad that she could not see his eyes well from this distance, remembering the love that shone from them when he used to look upon her, and convinced that if she witnessed the same love now as he looked upon this lady, she would surely shrivel up and die.

Though she turned her head slightly toward the stage, Elizabeth could not watch the play; her eyes were turned constantly on William. She remained in her seat during intermissions, avoiding an incidental meeting with him that would force an introduction to his lady. Toward the end of the last act, Elizabeth no longer tried to hide the direction of her attention and could not hold back the tears as she watched him turn to this woman, leaning closer to hear her speak, and then smiling at something the lady had said--no doubt something witty and clever.

Mrs. Gardiner noticed the silent tears running down her niece's cheeks and alerted her husband that they needed to leave the moment the play was over. The last thing Elizabeth needed at that moment was to be caught in the crowd by someone they knew.

William had spent the past year and a half working very hard. Between his rehabilitative exercises, the reconstruction of Pemberley, and the usual work of running the estate, William had been unable to make more than a few short trips to London to see a doctor, a specialist in his type of injury, who also kept regular correspondence with Mr. Smythe in order to monitor William's progress.

His Aunt and Uncle Fitzwilliam badgered him into attending several events whenever he was in London. Though he enjoyed an occasional visit to the theater or the opera, William found that he despised the social scene and the ton even more now than he had before he had fallen in love with Elizabeth. His aunt and uncle were constantly playing matchmakers, and they could not understand his reluctance to settle down.

William's tailor in Lambton had produced some fashionable-looking, useful coats for him that included a different type of pocket than was in style--but he did notice that upon his second trip to London, many of the other men were wearing similar coats! He had to laugh because his only reason for adding the pockets was to accommodate his useless arm; after all he needed to put it somewhere and not leave it hanging down at his side!

When in his presence, the ladies of the ton all pretended not to care about his injuries. Though they were unsure of what exactly had happened to him, there was no question that his arm was idle. They tried not to stare, but at one party when he had retreated from the insanity of the season by taking a breath of fresh air on the terrace, he had overheard a group of ladies talking about him--laughing about how they did not care about his arm as long as he retained his ability to sign cheques!

After not progressing very far with restoring the usefulness of his arm, William was beginning to lose hope that he would ever be well enough to approach Elizabeth. If he did not regain the use of his arm and hand, William had decided that after Georgiana married, he would be done with the ton and would retire to Pemberley for the remainder of his life--alone.

Elizabeth. Georgiana and he had ceased to discuss her about a year ago, but he had never stopped thinking about her, dreaming about her, or sketching her. Would this be how he would live the rest of his life? Daily, sometimes hourly, William wondered what she thought of him.

William's mind was brought back to the present by a clawing feeling on his left arm. "Stop touching me! You have absolutely no right! Does she think I find this behavior attractive?" William thought as the lady that his aunt and uncle had invited to join them in their box touched his arm once more.

Not only did he not think to ask what play was being performed tonight in advance, for if he had, he never would have accepted the invitation, but he also should have known that his aunt and uncle would try to match him with another beauty of their acquaintance. Why did the play have to be Elizabeth's favorite--the one that she had acted out with Georgiana during the happiest time in his life?

"I would much rather see Elizabeth and Georgiana's portrayal than to see this play beautifully performed on stage." He thought as he ground his teeth in an effort to hold back the tears that pricked at his eyes.

His nostrils flared as the vapid lady on his left said something that she thought was humorous. He tried to smile politely.

"This is torturous! Why does she think she could say anything that would interest me? Humph! She dares to touch me yet again after the look I gave her the last time she did so? If she drops something onto the floor once more, she can pick it up herself! I absolutely refuse to look at her décolletage as she obviously wants me to. I will not go to dinner at Matlock House as originally planned. It will not be a lie to say that I am feeling ill!"

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was attending the same play, seated with friends in the box directly across from the Matlock's. He had been trying to attract Darcy's attention since the last intermission because as he had been surveying the assembly to see if there were any interesting-looking ladies in the general admission section, he had thought he saw the lady that Darcy was always drawing--the one whose name he had heard Darcy screaming at the top of his lungs for hours on end after he was burned in the fire at Pemberley and so ill with fever, the one who held Darcy's broken heart in her hands, and the only person who could ever help him to heal--Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He could not be certain because he had never seen the lady in person, but Darcy's renderings of Georgiana's and William's parents were so well done that Richard felt his drawings of this lady would look very much like the original as well, except that even from this distance, she was even more beautiful than the image on paper.

Richard had been watching her since the last act began. He could swear that she was not looking at the stage at all, but at William! The silly woman that his parents had brought along to meet his cousin was fawning all over him, and Richard could only imagine that the scene in the box opposite him was not doing William any good when it came to his lady love's opinion of him.

Richard was tempted to throw something at his cousin in order to gain his attention, but with his luck he would probably miss and hit his father or mother instead! Richard wished the play was over so he could rush over to the Matlock box and point her out to his cousin, but he could not; his parents would never forgive him for interrupting. "It is just not done, Richard!" he knew his mother would say, just as she had done many times in the past. His parents would never forgive him for making a spectacle of himself in front of the entire ton, and he was in no mood to risk it.

Finally the play was almost finished and, excusing himself from his party, he rushed around the outside landing, dodging those who had no real interest in the play and had already accomplished their goal--being seen--and were leaving early to avoid the crush. The moment the play ended, he pushed through the door and into the box, greeting his parents quickly, then said quietly, "I need to speak to my cousin privately for a moment if you will excuse us," while pulling Darcy through the door.

"Thank you, Richard; I needed to escape from that lady's claws!"

"William! I think she is here!" Richard exclaimed while pulling him toward the lobby in an attempt to gain a good point from which to view the general seating exits.

"I have never seen you so agitated, cousin. What lady has put you in such a state?"

"Your Elizabeth! She is here! I saw her."

The crowd of exiting patrons thickened around them as Darcy stopped suddenly, his eyes widening, and he stood in stunned silence for a few moments. Elizabeth was here, in the same building? Was it his imagination that there was suddenly a trace of lavender in the air? His eyes searched the crowd wildly for her face.

What could he say to her if they met? Was it truly her father's doing that she had never written, or was it in fact her own? How would she respond to his presence if her father had kept their letters from her and convinced her that he had never cared for her? Did she despise him for not coming to her and taking her away to Scotland as he had promised? "What I would not do just to see her for a moment! But, my arm!"

Darcy leaned toward his cousin, his mask in place but with panic in his eyes, and said quietly, "I cannot, Richard! Not until I am healed. I cannot see her!"

"William, if she still loves you as you said she did, she will not care about your arm."

His eyes hardened and he answered, "Do you not understand, Richard? I never want to see pity in her eyes. I must go! Make my excuses to your parents."

He turned with every intention of walking briskly to the theater's exit, but then--it all happened so quickly. He collided with a body that was blocking his path; his left arm instinctively came up to steady the other person, and all at once he was overwhelmed by the scent of her.

William looked down into the eyes he had been dreaming of for years. Someone moved through the crowd past Elizabeth, pushing her closer to him--almost crushing her against him. Her hands, which were pressed against his chest, moved up slightly, sending a shiver down his spine. Every inch of his body fortunate enough to be touching hers was tingling with a sense of life that had been felt only when he had held her so long ago. The last time they had been together had been in the garden at Pemberley, and his entire being screamed out for what they had shared then; his arm ached to wind around her back and pull her closer, and he had to fight the impulse to lean down and touch his lips to hers.

William took a deep breath and filled himself once more with the scent of heaven that he had yearned for so long to experience again. Elizabeth's face was pale and tear-stained--and even more beautiful than he had remembered. As if by instinct, his hand moved to wipe her tears away, but he stopped himself and placed it again on her arm. "Why are you crying, my Elizabeth?" he thought, but could not utter a sound.

William heard a lady call her name and ask her to follow. Fear gripped him--Elizabeth would be taken from him! He had to do something, say something! He only had enough presence of mind to say, "Hello."

A deep sadness filled her eyes as she answered, "Good evening, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth pressed her hands against his chest and pushed away from him. She took the lady's hand and followed her--leaving him--again.

As she moved away, his hand slid down the creamy skin of her bare arm. Why had he worn gloves? Worried that he would never experience her scent again, he took a deep breath and held it purposely as he stood watching her until she disappeared into the crowd.

"Elizabeth!" William's thoughts shouted out to her, but he clenched his jaw and lips together so tightly that no sound could escape. When he could no longer hold it in, he exhaled with a long, trembling sigh, savoring every last bit of the breath that had held her scent.

Richard's hand came down on his shoulder, and William turned toward him, barely voicing, "Take me home, Richard."

Richard knew this was not the time to discuss this, but he had to ask, "It was she, then?"

William looked in the direction Elizabeth had gone and answered, "Yes."

Richard nodded and said forcefully, "Come! I will make a path; follow me."

William followed closely behind as his cousin made his way through the crowd and out to the Darcy coach which was already waiting not too far from the door. Richard pushed him towards the coach, and then got in himself before signaling the driver that they were ready to proceed.

William leaned his elbow on the door and covered his face with his hand. "In the past two and one half years, every day I have imagined meeting her again, Richard. I have composed a thousand different speeches that I had hoped to say to her. And when I did, all I could say was, 'hello'… and let her go."

"You did not have to let her go, William."

William quickly moved his hand away from his face, and his eyes flashed in anger as he shouted, "Yes, I did have to let her go! Look at this, Richard!" With his left, he pulled his right hand out of the pocket of his coat and let the arm drop down onto the seat, lifeless. "I cannot do anything with it! I am just beginning to feel something other than excruciating pain and--oh yes, I have made such wonderful progress that I can finally flex my fingers a miniscule amount." He said, his words dripping with bitter sarcasm as he demonstrated, his fingers twitching a little. "When I am able to take her into both arms, only then I will seek her out--but not before!"

"And what if by then it is too late?"

"Then it was not meant to be," he snapped as he turned to stare out the window, not really seeing the scene passing outside it.

"Cousin, I think you are being foolish! You should know that she spent at least the entire last act of the play staring at you and that woman."

William's eyes darted to Richard's. "Do you think she misinterpreted Lady Alyssa's presence?"

"William, everyone in the theater misinterpreted Lady Alyssa's presence, including Lady Alyssa. She was practically sitting in your lap, and I do believe that had you given her the slightest bit of encouragement, she would have done so! She was parading her décolletage so blatantly before you that even from across the theater I got quite the show! If your 'relationship' with Lady Alyssa is not in the society page tomorrow, I would be very surprised!"

"Good G-d, Richard! Elizabeth had been crying…"

The two were quiet for a few moments before Richard said, "Well, you could look at it as a good sign, William. She must still have feelings for you if your behavior can hurt her that much."

His chest and throat tightened, but somehow he forced out, "I do not wish to hurt her. I only want to love her."

"Then find her, William! Do you know who she was with?"

"I can only imagine it was the aunt and uncle whom she once told me she visits in London." He said thoughtfully, then he closed his eyes and said with a trembling voice, "But I cannot. She deserves a whole man."

"William… I have seen men come home from war with far worse injuries than you have, and their wives are only too happy to have them home alive!"

"Richard, I understand what you are saying, but it is not the same. Those men were injured defending the motherland, defending their families and friends--they are war heroes. Elizabeth and I are not married; she is not depending on me to provide for her, and unlike married ladies who have vowed to love, honor and keep their husbands in sickness till death parts them, Elizabeth has a choice!" William was silent for a few seconds and then whispered, "I would not blame her if she did not choose me as I am now."

"William, the woman you and Georgiana, and even your father, told me about would not decide against you because of this injury! Even I could see that she still cares for you, William Darcy--the man! If she did not, if she was just another mercenary lady interested in your material assets, she would have taken every advantage of the situation in which she found herself when the crowd pushed her against you. You must know how rare that is, especially for a man in your position--for a woman to look beyond the money and status is almost unheard of!"

"Enough, Richard!" William's shout seemed louder than it had been in the small space of the carriage. He took a few moments to check his temper and sighed. "Enough. I will work twice as hard on the exercises that Mr. Smythe and Mr. Miller have given me, no matter the pain involved. I will recover the use of my arm, and only then will I find Elizabeth again."

Silence prevailed for several minutes before William whispered, "I would not have thought it could be possible, but she has grown even more beautiful than she was the last time I saw her."

Richard kept his thoughts to himself. "Well, if nothing else, perhaps this meeting will give him a new sense of purpose. Lately he has been acting as if he had given up. Saying he will recover is a great improvement! Georgiana will be relieved."

When at home, Elizabeth normally read her father's newspaper every day, and when staying in London, she was permitted to read her uncle's. Though she had been watching the society columns for the past year or so looking for his name, she had been proud of herself that usually she would at least wait until she had finished with the news. In the past she had been relieved that there were not many mentions of William, but for the last month "FD of Derbyshire" had been seen in London society much more often. Lately she found herself turning directly to the society column when opening a newspaper.

Today she wanted to see what was written about the woman William accompanied last night to the theater; after she read it, she wished she had not. It was devastating. It seemed that all of London was expecting that since he had been seen in the company of this lady and his aunt and uncle, an engagement would soon be announced. Elizabeth needed time to think, and so requested that a maid accompany her on a walk.

"Papa was right all along." Elizabeth walked for quite some time with only that thought repeating in her mind.

"I must accept that he no longer loves me. I saw the look in his eyes; he seemed angry when he first looked at me…and then mortified to see me. And now the newspaper--his family obviously approves of this lady. She was so beautiful and sophisticated; she is everything I am not. I wish I had thought to give him his mother's ring, but I do not think I could have done so discreetly in such a public place. It is just as well; I do not know if I could part from it just yet."

Her hand moved to the chain that held his ring, pulling it from the bodice of her gown to touch it.

"I must let go of all my preconceived notions. I must find a way to return this. He should give it to his wife…"

Elizabeth stopped walking and closed her eyes for a few moments until she heard footsteps approaching.

Opening her eyes she saw a soldier coming her way on the path. Realizing that she was standing in his way, Elizabeth tried to move, but her knees would not cooperate and gave way. The man moved forward quickly and caught her by the arms, asking, "Madam, may I escort you to that bench?" The maid that was accompanying Elizabeth came scurrying over to offer her assistance as well.

"Yes, please. I am sorry to be such a bother; I do not know what is wrong with me."

The gentleman offered her his arm and steered her to the bench. "It is no trouble at all. Do you live nearby? Perhaps I can get some help for you?"

"I thank you, but I usually am not the type to swoon, sir. I was thinking of something, and it seems to have upset me more than I had anticipated. I shall be fine after resting a moment or two, I am sure. Truly, this has never happened before."

"Mayhap it is not something you have had need to think of before?" He helped her to sit, and then took a step back.

Noticing the insignia on his uniform Elizabeth asked, "Are you in the habit of asking such personal questions of young ladies to whom you have not been properly introduced, Colonel?"

She was smiling so he did not think he had insulted the lady, but the smile did not reach her eyes. Could she be teasing him? Well, then, that gave him every right to tease back! "Only when I think the lady will grace me with a smile as beautiful as the one before me, madam."

"My goodness, Colonel, you certainly are forward. May I ask if you are a rake, sir? Should I be alarmed that you have not yet continued on your way?"

"It so happens I am a gentleman, madam, the son of an Earl to be exact. Whether or not I am a rake would have to be reported to you by others to be a trustworthy account, I am certain, but I must ease your mind by saying that I promise you are in no danger from me."

They were quiet while Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and examined him for a minute or two.

The gentleman spent that time thinking.

"William would kill me if he even knew I was here, let alone here talking to you! Though it is tempting to test your devotion to my cousin, I think I would rather be tortured by Attila the Hun than to face William if he ever found out that I did so!

"What is this in your hand? Aunt Anne's ring?! William, you dog, you never told me you gave her that! Was it thinking of my cousin that made you so upset that a sturdy soul such as you swooned? Probably saw that damned column in the newspaper!"

Elizabeth's brow smoothed, and she said, "I have decided to trust you for the moment, Colonel, not because I am so impressed with your rank and assurances, but because we are in a public place with a maid present, and you did not approach me with anything but the best intentions when I was not well. There is also something about you that is… familiar. I cannot quite place it. Have we met before, sir?"

"I thank you, Miss, but I know I have never met you before this day. Miss…?"

"Ah, and now you ruin all my trust by wishing me to introduce myself! Do you not know that it is most unladylike to do so?" Elizabeth's expression changed from one of teasing to one filled with such sadness that his heart wrenched in his chest.

Richard searched his own memory to see if there was anything his cousins or uncle had mentioned while speaking of her that might have caused this change. Remembering the account he had heard of her first meeting with William made him think that she had been reminded of the same. "May I escort you home if you are feeling well enough? I do not feel comfortable leaving you here on a bench in the park when you are unwell, but I must soon be on my way."

Elizabeth examined him once again and decided to take him up on his kind offer. "I think I am well enough to attempt it. It is through the park and across the street from the far entrance." She clasped her hands behind her back as they began to walk, and Richard took this as a signal that she would not be willing to take his arm--very unlike any of the usual women of the ton who would jump at the chance to flirt with even the second son of an earl!

"What division are you with, Colonel?"

Richard told her and was impressed when her eyes lit up as she asked if he had been with them at a certain battle in which his division had been involved while on the Continent. "You are interested in military history?"

Elizabeth laughed a little then said, "I must admit, sir, to being more interested in military strategy as a child than the more acceptable pastimes for little girls, and my interest has never faded. About that battle, I understand that what has been told afterward on paper must be very different than how events actually unfold in the field, and have often wondered…" she asked a specific question about the strategy his commanding officer had employed in the battle.

Richard explained it in more technical terms than he normally would to a person not in the military to glean whether or not she really understood it. He was only a little surprised when this amazing young lady displayed her superior knowledge by asking appropriate questions and using appropriate terms, even debating the general's choice in one matter. He had the impression that if they had been indoors with paper and pen available, she would be in the process of drawing out the entire battle as she would have planned it--and he could not deny that her design might have worked better! "Miss Bennet really is as intelligent as William claims!"

He accompanied her to her door while the maid hurried up the stairs and inside. Just as Elizabeth began to thank him again and bid him goodbye, Mrs. Gardiner came rushing out the door. "Lizzy! Mary has told me you fell ill while walking in the park?"

"Yes, Aunt, but I am well now. This gentleman came to my rescue and escorted me home. I was just thanking him again for his kindness and for a lesson in military strategy."

Mrs. Gardiner said, "May I thank you as well, Colonel…?"

"Colonel Richard…" he hesitated, thinking, "Good G-d! Miss Bennet would undoubtedly know Darcy's first name!"

"I am Mrs. Gardiner, and this is my niece, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Will you join us for tea, Colonel Richards?" Mrs. Gardiner asked.

"No, thank you, ma'am. I was in the area on an errand and could not resist a walk in your lovely park, but now I must be on my way. I was only too glad to be of service to such an interesting young lady. Good day, Mrs. Gardiner. Good day, Miss Bennet." He bowed to the ladies and then walked away in the direction that he had left his horse.

"That was a lucky misunderstanding! Though I do wonder what Miss Bennet's reaction would have been if she had heard my surname." Richard chuckled.

"I do hope she is not angry with me when we finally do meet properly!

"William, you are a fool!"

Chapter 12

September 1810

Nine months later

When William was told by his friend Charles Bingley that he had found an estate to lease at last, it had been perfect timing for William. He had his business ventures well managed enough to be away from Pemberley and London for a time and had worked quite diligently at rehabilitating his arm and hand. Though they were still a little weak and painful during rainy weather, both were able to function almost normally as long as he did not over exert himself. The scarring had not faded much at all, but wearing gloves concealed it well, and the remainder was hidden under his clothing.

He did not think to ask the location before Bingley begged William to come and help him to learn how to manage the estate. Bingley had been such a support to him over the course of the past two years that William found he could not refuse the request.

When he learned that the house was located in Hertfordshire, William made up his mind that once there, he would inquire about Longbourn's location; he was absolutely determined to find out whether Elizabeth had married. If she was unmarried, he would go to see her and explain why he had not come sooner. He sincerely hoped Mr. Bennet would not be there at the time he chose to visit, since he was uncertain how he would manage to remain civil to the man!

William arrived approximately two weeks after Bingley taken possession of Netherfield Park, and upon his arrival, he was informed that their party was scheduled to attend an assembly that very evening. Tired from travelling, but attempting to be a good guest, he agreed to attend.

William was the last of the party to enter the coach and, almost as an afterthought, he pulled James aside before stepping in. "James, while we are at the Assembly, would you speak to the other servants and ascertain where Longbourn is located in Hertfordshire?"

The usually stoic James started, and asked, "Longbourn, sir?"

"Yes… we were there once, do you remember? I know it is in Hertfordshire, and I would like to know how close we are to that estate."

"Yes, Mr. Darcy," James said. William entered the coach, and they were on their way.

James hopped down from the coach as it lined up behind others waiting to allow their passengers to descend in front of the assembly hall. He had a feeling he had been in this village before--and that could only mean one thing! Mr. Darcy must be warned if his intuition proved to be correct, so he set off quickly to inquire after Longbourn before his master disembarked. As the passengers stepped down from Mr. Darcy's coach, James approached and asked if he could speak to Mr. Darcy.

"What is it, James?"

"Sir? I think you should know… it seems Netherfield and Longbourn border each other. Longbourn is but one mile north of here." He nodded his head in the direction of a parked coach. "I am told that is the Bennet family's coach, Mr. Darcy." William's eyes widened and locked with James's. "I took the liberty of asking… Mrs. Bennet and the five Miss Bennets are in attendance."

William glanced up at the window to the Assembly hall, then back at James. James thought he looked very pale. "I see." He blinked a few times and continued, "I should have inquired sooner. Thank you, James; it is better to know before I enter." He hesitated before saying, "Can you please make certain the coach is not blocked behind others and is available to leave whenever necessary?"

"Yes, sir. I understand, sir." William did not walk away immediately as James had expected; he just stood there staring at the window, although he did not appear to be seeing it. His features were schooled as they were usually in public, but after so many years of being in service to the Darcys, James had recognized a bit of panic in his eyes when he had spoken. James knew he was the only one who had even the smallest idea of what his master was walking into, and took a chance, stepping beyond his station by saying, "Good luck, Mr. Darcy."

William closed his eyes and swallowed past the tightness in his throat before saying, "Thank you, James. I think I shall need it." When he re-joined his party, the group turned towards the door and entered the building, with William making himself last. He was relieved that Bingley had escorted his sister Caroline because he did not think he could manage being civil to her while warding off her advances in his present state of mind. He would have preferred to have had more time to prepare for this encounter but was also filled with pleasure at the thought of having the chance to glimpse Elizabeth again.

With each step he took as he climbed the stairs, his nervous anticipation grew. "James implied that she is not married, but what if she is betrothed? Will I have to endure watching her look at another man with love in her eyes? I cannot explain all that I wish to at an assembly ball, but if I do not take the chance while I have it, the Bennets will know I am in the neighborhood, and perhaps her father will not allow me to visit her at Longbourn. Will she despise me for not coming for her on her seventeenth birthday and for treating her ill in London a few months ago? Would she understand all that I need to tell her and forgive me? Is it at all possible that she still cares for me?" Taking a deep breath, he locked in place the mask of indifference that he always wore in public and entered the room.

His eyes searched the crowd; Elizabeth was dancing. "She is even more beautiful than when I saw her in London--how does she manage it? So graceful! So elegant!" The dance ended, and Elizabeth was talking to her partner whom he had barely noticed before. As his reason for existing laughed at what her dance partner said, William's chest tightened. Her partner was a tall, handsome man about his own age or maybe a year or two younger. William realized that most of the room had turned with curiosity to see the new arrivals to the neighborhood, but he could not tear his eyes from Elizabeth. Her partner walked toward her and leaned closely to her ear to say something privately to her. William had never felt such rage in his life as he did at seeing this. These feelings were unacceptable--but Elizabeth was supposed to be his! The man nodded in William's direction, and Elizabeth turned to look where the man had indicated.

William knew the moment she noticed him by the expressions on her lovely face. At first the way she lit up sent hope coursing through him, but then Elizabeth turned a ghastly shade of white and looked faint, and took hold of her partner's arm to steady her. Her dance partner turned to look at her, and his countenance reflected his concern. The man seemed to be insisting on escorting her to a chair at the side of the room.

Once Elizabeth was seated, her eyes met William's. Then her face turned to stone, her eyes cold and glaring.

Intense pain ripped through every fiber of William's body. "Good G-d! She despises me!" The thought repeated itself in his mind as he followed Bingley instinctively, moving the party away from the door.

Bingley was approached by a jovial gentleman whom Bingley introduced as Sir William Lucas. He heard Elizabeth's voice say, "We must call him 'Sir William' now instead of 'Mr. Lucas,'" as she had said years ago in the book shop where they first met. Sir William talked of introducing them to the other neighbors, and Bingley walked after him. William could not hear their conversation over the sound of his heart racing in his ears. He noticed Caroline Bingley staring at him and, knowing that he could not survive an attack by her just now, he followed Bingley as he walked away to meet his new neighbors.

The dance had just ended when Elizabeth's partner John Lucas mentioned that the highly anticipated new members of the neighborhood had arrived and motioned towards the entryway of the Assembly room. When she first turned to see the party from Netherfield, she did not notice anyone other than the tall man in the back--William!

Caught completely off guard that he was here in her own neighborhood, her first reaction was to think, "He has come for me at last!" and such joy spread through her entire being that it erased all the heartache that had become her constant companion for the past three years.

William was looking at her as well, but his countenance seemed so indifferent and severe, reminding her of all the time that had passed and of all the promises he had made--and had broken.

She felt the blood drain from her face and her knees go weak as they had done in London in the park, so she took hold of John Lucas's arm. He insisted on escorting her to a chair and she was grateful. Somewhere between the dance floor and the chair, deep within her mind a choice was made without her knowledge. She had been teetering on the brink of either collapsing into tears in front of the entire neighborhood or feeling intense rage toward William as a defense against her humiliation. Rage won out.

"The look upon his face confirms it; I was correct in London! It is true--he does not love me. It was not his father's disapproval of me as Papa had assumed; it was William who did not want me! It was all lies--everything he said at Pemberley was lies! The ring was most likely not even his mother's! Why? Why would he have done this? I do not understand! I will never allow him to know that I have spent the last three years pining for him!" she thought as she met his eyes once again.

Elizabeth watched William follow his friend down the room as Sir William introduced them to the entire neighborhood. They were moving toward--her mother! Elizabeth stood quickly and walked across the room to stand with her mother and Jane.

A concerned John Lucas was left standing next to the chair Elizabeth had abandoned, watching her go. Was one of these men the one who had been responsible for her heartache?

No one had ever had to tell him why she had changed over the past few years. When she returned from her holiday three years ago, he had known instantly that she had fallen in love, and he had been as happy for her as was possible, though it had dashed his plans completely. He had watched her slowly become more and more despondent and distracted over time until last January when she had returned home from London. It was as if someone had stolen any chance of happiness from her while she had been there, and yet, he could tell that she still loved this unnamed man. He had hated the man who had done this to her--the man without a face, without a name.

Just now, as he watched many emotions pass through his friend's eyes after seeing the newcomers, he saw her ire rise and knew she had made a choice. He had witnessed that look many times as they were growing up--it was the look that meant Elizabeth was enraged about a perceived injustice and was determined to defend herself.

Now, the man would have a face and a name, but John knew that he had no right to do anything about the pain this man had caused his friend. Besides, what could he do without hurting Elizabeth in the end? He could only watch and wait.

"Good luck, Lizzy," John Lucas whispered.

William was in a complete daze, but somehow he managed the bare civilities when being introduced to Bingley's new neighbors--until he looked up and saw that his friend was being introduced to Mrs. Bennet, Jane and Elizabeth.

His eyes locked instantly with Elizabeth's. He had not thought that the agony he had felt when he saw her from across the room could possibly get any worse, but he would soon learn that he had been mistaken. If, over the past three years someone had told William that he would not want to look into those eyes--the eyes that had been burned into his memory, the eyes that he had drawn and painted dozens of times, the eyes he had dreamt of every night and had seen every time he had closed his own--William would have scoffed at them and believed that they had gone mad. But he could bear no longer to look into those lovely eyes that were now filled with scorn. He wanted only to escape from the room and go back to the time when he had felt any measure of hope that on seeing her again, all would turn out right. Just now he felt as if nothing would ever be right again.

Should he allow her to see his pain? No! He could not. He had told Richard that if his next meeting with Elizabeth occurred too late, then it was never meant to be, and that everything that had happened to keep them apart would have happened for the best. Though he could not feel this sentiment to be true at the moment, William hoped that, with time, he could believe it.

Bingley's words were a jumbled noise to his ears, but when William saw Mrs. Bennet turn to look at him, his attention suddenly sharpened.

"And you, sir, do you like to dance as well?"

"Oh, I apologize," Bingley said, forced from his dreamlike admiration of Miss Jane Bennet by Mrs. Bennet's words. "I have forgotten my manners. May I introduce Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire? Darcy, this is Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet, and Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

William could see Jane start and glance at her sister. Elizabeth continued to glare at him. Remembering his manners at least, William bowed to the ladies as the daughters curtsied, but Mrs. Bennet stiffened and seemed to become lost in thought for a moment, not acknowledging the greetings. Then her expression changed dramatically.

Mrs. Bennet might not have been the most intelligent of ladies or the most perceptive of the moods of others, but the changes in Elizabeth over the past months had been so distinct that even she had noticed. She had brought up the subject with her husband after it seemed to be a lasting effect. It took several attempts, but Mrs. Bennet nagged persistently, and one day installed herself in her husband's study until she extracted at least part of the story from Mr. Bennet. She knew only that Elizabeth had been greatly disappointed by the son of his old friend, Mr. Darcy, and his opinion of the matter was that it had been because either Mr. Darcy or his son had deemed Elizabeth not good enough for him.

Nobody told Mrs. Bennet that one of her daughters was not good enough, even if that daughter was her least favorite and the gentleman would inherit what she estimated as very likely more than ten thousand a year! She had been outraged, and on more than one occasion had written a letter to her husband's former friend to speak her mind on the subject, but Mr. Bennet would not allow them to be posted. Her husband had finally convinced her that it would do no one any good to insult a member of the first circle, and she had finally relented.

But, to have the gentleman who snubbed her own daughter here in the neighborhood was too much for her to resist, especially since Mr. Bennet had stayed at home!

Her countenance expressed clearly for anyone to see the disdain she felt toward the gentleman. "Darcy?" she almost screeched, "I had thought you looked familiar." Mrs. Bennet turned up her nose at him, and then moved her attention to a very confused Mr. Bingley, speaking to him about insignificant matters in a pleasant tone of voice.

The severe, stony expression that William had been wearing since Elizabeth first saw him standing by the entrance of the assembly room had been directed at her without deviation for several minutes while her mother, Jane, and Mr. Bingley conversed. Elizabeth surprised herself when her courage had endured through it well enough. In truth, her heart was beating so furiously that she thought all of Meryton might hear it and she felt such an overwhelming sorrow descend upon her so violently that the only thing she truly wished to do was to run from the building and weep until she could weep no more. Her mind filled with question after question and her head ached, but through it all she continued to glare at him.

William seemed to be challenging her--to what, she was not certain. Did he wish her to show that she still maintained tender feelings towards him after all this time, perhaps? What purpose would it serve other than to give him the opportunity to demonstrate before the entire neighborhood that he felt she was a fool, and he wanted nothing more to do with her? What else could this look mean after the encounter in London--after he had stayed away for so long? Perhaps he was attempting to tell her that he wished his ring to be returned?

She formerly was able to read his emotions and thoughts so easily, why could she not upon the last two meetings? Had he changed so drastically since they had been together at Pemberley that he was not the same man? Was he ever the man she had thought he was, or was it all an illusion? But what could he possibly have gained from all that had transpired if it had been false? Had it been a game, and had he felt pressed to go on because she did not agree to his proposal immediately, and once she did, the game was over? If he never made out a marriage contract, it would be her word against his that he had ever proposed. Nobody that could matter to someone of the first circle of the ton would ever believe that a man of his wealth and stature would offer for her, so there would have been no true risk to his reputation.

Since she could no longer read him, should she trust any impression she had of him since meeting him again, including their chance meeting in London? Was he challenging her at all or was this unreadable expression something else?

Or was her heart trying to make excuses for him to justify that she still loved him?

Just then, Mr. Bingley introduced her mother, Jane, and her to William. Two things happened simultaneously as her relations heard his name. Elizabeth felt Jane suddenly stiffen by her side, and she could see Jane glance at her from the corner of her eye. She saw her mother grow rigid as well, but her next action came as a complete surprise to both her daughters. After a few moments hesitation, her mother gave William the cut direct!

Jane and Elizabeth did not know what to do, and so they did nothing. William's mien did not change at all, nor did he move away or say a word. Mr. Bingley shot his friend an apologetic look which William did not seem to notice. He just stood there, staring at her with that emotionless countenance that was so confusing to her.

When her mother snubbed him, Elizabeth's expression faltered and softened with concern for his feelings for just a moment before she was able to reinstate her glare, but obviously a moment was long enough to convince him to act.

Surprising everyone who was within hearing distance--and quite a number of people were paying close attention after Mrs. Bennet's response to the introduction--William asked Elizabeth to dance!

When William had seen Elizabeth's continuous glare soften for a fleeting moment after her mother snubbed him, he was overwhelmed with a thought that had been lingering ever since he had heard at Pemberley that Mr. Bennet wanted Elizabeth to have a season out before marrying him--that she would be dancing with other men and yet he had never danced with her. Though he usually despised dancing, he had spent the past three years imagining sharing with her every possible dance he had ever learned from any of his masters--his favorite dance to dream about was the waltz. Since she seemed to dislike him so intensely now, he knew this might be his only opportunity to dance with her.

Before he knew what he was about, the request had already escaped William's lips. "Miss Elizabeth, will you do me the honor of dancing the next with me?"

Recognizing the look in her eyes after the surprise left them, as if he had challenged her, she could not refuse or else she would consider herself to be weak; he now felt confident that Elizabeth would accept him.

Accept him, she did.

To say that Elizabeth was surprised when William asked her to dance would be a severe understatement. "Why would he do such a thing?" she wondered. The skin around William's eyes creased just a bit, and she realized that she had let her "severe" countenance slip once again. "He is attempting to unnerve me! I will not allow it. My courage rises with every attempt he makes to intimidate me!"

Elizabeth arched her brow and said with strength in her voice, "Yes, Mr. Darcy, I will."

While Elizabeth and William were caught in a contest of who would look away first for very different reasons--on her side to prove that she would not be frightened off by him, on his because he had decided that even seeing anger in her eyes was better than not seeing her at all--neither had any idea of what had been happening around them. Mr. Bingley, Mrs. Bennet, and even Jane were at first all standing with their mouths slightly ajar, blinking, and staring at them with shocked expressions.

Mr. Bingley's thoughts were consumed with several things at once. The elegant and angelic beauty he had just met, the novelty of being witness to a matron with daughters of marriageable age actually insulting his friend, who just happened to be one of the wealthiest men in all of England, and his friend actually requesting the hand of any lady to dance--a pastime he absolutely despised--without feeling obligated by duty or having to be talked into it, let alone its being the hand of a lady whose mother gave him the cut direct just moments ago, was nearly more than he could bear with equanimity!

Mrs. Bennet was speechless, an event her husband surely would regret missing if it ever came to his attention. Why on earth would Lizzy, of all people, be willing to dance with the same man that Mr. Bennet had told her had insulted their entire family and had broken her heart?

Jane's shock turned into a brilliant smile as her mind was more agreeably engaged. "Here is my Lizzy! Here is the spark in her eyes and fire in her soul that has been missing all this time! Just being in Mr. Darcy's company has brought her back to us. The misunderstanding will be cleared away soon, and all will be well."

When the musicians signaled that the next set was about to begin, Bingley was quick to claim his partner and lead Jane to the dance floor. William had been so distracted by the light dancing in Elizabeth's eyes that he missed the cue, but was awakened from his distraction as Bingley purposely brushed past him while he moved toward the dance floor.

William could tell that Elizabeth was confused by the triumphant gleam he expected was shining from his eyes when he was able to hold out his right hand, and she willingly took it. This is exactly what he had worked so intensely to achieve!

All at once he was thankful for while simultaneously cursing inwardly society's demands for gloves to be worn on such occasions. He was indeed thankful that the gloves covered any chance of his scars being exposed. But oh, how he wished to be able to touch Elizabeth's skin! Even through their gloves he could feel the warmth of her hand upon his, and it sent a thrill down his spine.

He did not remember doing it, but he had somehow managed to lead her to the dance floor. As they stood across from one another waiting for the sequence of the dance to require them to move, she held his eyes in an iron grip; it felt physically impossible for him to break the gaze even had he wished to, though he could not bear to look away from the magnificent vision before him.

When it was their turn to move, William breathed in deeply as she passed him, her scent a balm to him, rejuvenating his very soul, stripping him of his stony façade. He turned toward her as the dance required, and her glare turned to a look of utter confusion before he could again retreat behind his mask.

Both acknowledged to themselves that they could not manage to hold their protective countenances if required to speak as well, and consequently they proceeded through the set in silence. If only each of them had known that the other was struggling with the same dilemma, perhaps the evening would have proceeded much differently, but as it was, when the second dance of the set was done, William was obliged by the rules of propriety to return Elizabeth to her chaperone. He bowed over her hand, reluctantly released it, and whispered, "Thank you," while meeting her gaze one more time before somehow finding the strength to walk away from her.

Though he knew it was only right that he dance with his host's sisters, William would not sully his memories with a dance with any other woman, and so ignored his sense of duty for the first time in his life.

~Netherfield, the afternoon after the Assembly

As they gathered for luncheon, anyone in the hallway outside the dining room could have heard the complaints of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst to their brother that the previous night William had danced with a "country nobody" and not with them. As fortune would have it, it was William's lot to be in the hallway at that moment. He held his hand up to the footman who was about to open the door, signaling him to wait. William took a moment to straighten his shoulders and take a deep breath to steady his demeanor. Looking at the footman and rolling his eyes, he nodded to signal him to open the door. The footman bowed his head in sympathy for the gentleman before straightening up and doing his duty.

The moment the door opened, the interior scene changed to one of feigned delight in the addition of William's company. For the hundredth time, or more, William thought that it was obvious that Caroline Bingley had painstakingly moulded her behaviour to duplicate that of the ladies of the ton. As much as she had succeeded at this task, Caroline would never realize that as she was the daughter of a tradesman, she would never be accepted by most within the higher circles of the ton, no matter what her accomplishments.

Why Miss Bingley continued to flirt with him, William could not understand. He knew that her brother had spoken to her many times informing her that William was not interested, and that if he had wanted a lady of the ton, he had almost the entire unmarried population of the first circle from which to choose. For some reason, every time he spoke to her about it, her enthusiasm for "catching" him re-doubled!

Before coming to Netherfield, he had asked Bingley not to speak to her about it again because if she got any worse, he would not be able to stay with them. Of course, at that time he did not know that Elizabeth lived in this area. Now that he did know, he would put up with almost anything to have an opportunity to win her again, especially since he also knew that he could always use the excuse of needing exercise or feeling fatigued to escape Caroline's attentions. The Hursts and Miss Bingley had been told he had been injured in the fire, and though they were not informed of the details of his injuries, they did seem to understand his need for rest and rehabilitative exercise.

At luncheon, between Mrs. Hurst's and Miss Bingley's criticisms of the neighborhood and Miss Bingley's fawning and simpering toward him, the two ladies drove William to leave the house for a ride.

He rode Poseidon in the direction he thought Longbourn would lie. Just the thought of being closer to Elizabeth helped to make him feel more comfortable. Coming upon an area that looked familiar, William dismounted. Realizing the tree directly in front of him was the one where the Dreaded Pirate Lizzy had first been spotted, he smiled. Lost in a whirlwind of memories, he did not notice Baron Leisenheimer's approach.

"That has always been her favorite tree to climb."

William spun around and, seeing who had spoken, relaxed and held out his hand. The Baron shook it.

"It is a pleasure to see you, Baron Leisenheimer." William smiled slightly. "Are you lately returned to the neighborhood? I was told that you were staying in London."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy. Yes, my wife and I returned to Purvis Lodge only yesterday. We had been visiting our daughter and her new son."

"Congratulations, Baron. I remember that you had been expecting a grandchild soon after my last visit here as well."

"Ah, yes! This is the second grandchild since! You have a very good memory, Mr. Darcy."

"Thank you, sir." There was silence for a moment as the Baron seemed to be waiting for him to speak again. William obliged him by asking, "May I ask a question that has often been in my thoughts these years since we last saw each other? I remember that you had been whistling a tune when I first met you in these woods, and it has stayed with me all this time. I have often wondered what the piece is called. I would like to acquire the sheet music for my sister to play on the pianoforte. I know that there is little chance of it, but do you happen to remember what it was?"

"Well, this is a surprise. I always whistle the same song when I am walking through these woods, since I think of this as Miss Lizzy's woods. The song was inspired by our mutual friend, Mr. Darcy. I do have the sheet music--the one and only copy since it is one of my own compositions. If you like it that much I will make a copy for you to give to your sister." He looked at William with a quizzical eye.

"If that is the case, you are a better composer than you think, sir. I had always associated that song with Eliz… Miss Elizabeth." William blushed at the slip of his tongue and looked off into the woods towards Longbourn with a wistful expression. "I am afraid Miss Elizabeth would not agree with your calling her my friend, Baron."

"Ahhh--and what are your feelings on the matter?"

William's countenance betrayed his sorrow. "I would like to be considered a friend by Miss Elizabeth, sir."

Baron Leisenheimer clapped William on the shoulder, "I think I understand better than you realize, Mr. Darcy. My wife and I are very close to Miss Lizzy, and though she has not spoken to us of particulars, we have been able to deduce much from what she has said over the past three years… and from what she has only communicated with those expressive eyes of hers. I do not know what has recently occurred, but when she came to see us this morning, it was as if your coming to the neighborhood has disturbed a hornet's nest! I will not tell you what Miss Lizzy said--but would you like to hear my wife's observation just after Miss Lizzy took her leave, Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes, sir, I would."

"She was reminded of a line from Shakespeare's Hamlet, 'The lady doth protest too much, methinks.'"

William held his breath for a moment staring at the Baron before answering. "I wish, more than believe, that to be true, Baron."

"Having two daughters and Miss Lizzy about the house much of the time, I have learned to trust my wife's instincts about the feminine mind, Mr. Darcy. Think upon it… just why does the lady act as if she despises you so completely? Whom is she attempting to convince?" The Baron hesitated for a few moments and then continued with a smile at William's confused and wounded expression at what he had revealed, "I see I have given you much to think about. I must be off now, Mr. Darcy. Will we be seeing you at Lucas Lodge?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, Baron. Shall I have the pleasure of meeting the Baroness?" William asked distractedly.

"Yes, you shall. Until then, Mr. Darcy."

The Baron bowed and began to walk away but had not advanced more than a few steps before he stopped, turned toward his companion, and asked, "Mr. Darcy? Perhaps this is impertinent of me, but may I offer a bit of advice?" At William's nod he continued, "We have only just returned to the neighborhood for a few hours and have already had several callers trying to be the first to tell us the latest news before the gathering at Lucas Lodge. I am not sure how to say this without insulting you, but we have heard much about your 'arrogance and conceit.' I do not see it here in our meeting, nor do I remember it from the past; I suggest you make a conscious effort to remain this way!"

William closed his eyes for a moment and then nodded. "Thank you, Baron Leisenheimer. I will make an attempt to follow your advice."

As he watched the Baron walk away down the path on which he had accompanied him the last time William had been at this location six years prior, William found he could not be offended by his counsel. Bingley and his cousin Richard had often teased him about the effect on others of the cold shroud he pulled up around him in public, and Baron Leisenheimer was only trying to tell him the same--to advise him that it was working against any suit he could possibly make to win Elizabeth's heart. The Baron could have no idea that he was asking William to overcome what he had struggled against his entire life--his very nature of being extremely apprehensive among strangers.

When he had met the Baron six years ago, William had been with two people he knew and was meeting only one stranger. He took strength from his father--and from Elizabeth--and had actually felt comfortable with the gentleman. The obviously close relationship Elizabeth had with the Baron and her sister Jane, and the way the Baron and Elizabeth had protected him from Mrs. Bennet's machinations, had made him feel safe enough in the Bennet drawing room not to raise his mask. Even though there had been so many strangers present, they had made him feel comfortable. Even after all this time, he still felt at ease with the gentleman, which had facilitated their chance meeting just now.

But to be expected to keep his mask from locking into place at Lucas Lodge, among so many strangers, with Elizabeth having such hostile feelings towards him? He was even uncomfortable with more than half of his own party! And who knew how Mr. Bennet would react toward him when they met again? Under such conditions, he knew it would be impossible!

Posted on: 2011-04-13

Chapter 13

Bingley sat quietly sipping on brandy and watching William pace the drawing room at Netherfield, frantically twisting his signet ring and checking his pocket watch against the mantle clock every few minutes. His friend's agitation had begun upon their arrival at the assembly and had grown more intense with each subsequent day. Since William had acted so far out of character at the assembly by asking a lady to dance, he had a good idea of what--or who--was causing his perturbation.

Over the past few days Bingley had also noticed how William's muscles stiffened every time Miss Elizabeth Bennet was mentioned, and how he tried to control his reaction to Caroline's and Louisa's criticisms of the lady by grinding his teeth and clenching his fists. From what Bingley could discern, William was more than simply attracted to Miss Elizabeth. After taking into account what Mrs. Bennet had said at the assembly when she snubbed William, he suspected there was a much longer and more intimate acquaintance between the two than either had allowed to be generally known.

Bingley was certain that this dinner party would be an interesting event in regards to observing William's behavior--if he could find the strength within him to tear his attention away from the angelic Miss Jane Bennet, who had been occupying his mind in ways that no other lady ever had before now.

Caroline Bingley insisted on arriving late for everything. Recently when her brother had pressed her for an explanation as to why it took her so long to ready herself when she had retired hours earlier to begin the process, her excuse was that it was fashionable to be late. William knew it was done in an effort to set herself apart from the crowd so that she would be noticed, especially in a setting such as was expected tonight, which she considered to be "backwards"; therefore, she was dressed in a much finer material and more fashionable cut of clothing than would be expected of the locals. William personally did not think anyone could miss noticing her while she appeared in the bright orange shades that she preferred, even if she had been first to arrive and was buried behind a crowd of people.

If Caroline knew how much William despised having to wait or arriving late for any occasion, she might have changed her ways, but he had striven to keep any of his personal preferences from her notice since he did not want for her to do anything for his sake!

Having to wait for Caroline tonight was of no assistance in calming William's already frayed nerves. He had spent the days between the assembly and today alternating between a desperate hunger to lay eyes upon Elizabeth (even if her own countenance would be filled with animosity toward him), complete confusion when trying to puzzle out how he could achieve what Baron Leisenheimer had advised, and a deep sense of dread at the prospect of seeing Mr. Bennet for the first time after what he assumed the man had done to Georgiana and himself by his blatant disregard for his promise to his father.

As the clock ran further past the time they had been scheduled to arrive at Lucas Lodge, William's annoyance with Miss Bingley rose and so did his anger at Mr. Bennet. But by the time the Netherfield party arrived at Lucas Lodge, all of William's anxiety had focused itself into anger at one Mr. Thomas Bennet.

The Netherfield party's arrival at Lucas Lodge was as close to a repeat of their arrival at the assembly as could be in company of a smaller number. All conversation ended, and all eyes turned toward their group--except for the dark eyes flecked with gold that William longed to see again. Elizabeth continued speaking to John Lucas for several moments, and at the end of her discourse when Mr. Lucas replied, William heard her laughter ring out. It was missing a certain quality that he remembered hearing so often at Pemberley, but it was obvious that she was enjoying what another man had to say, and that knowledge caused William's stomach to coil into a painful knot and his blood to begin to boil with jealousy. Without realizing what he was about, he began to fidget once again with his ring, and then froze when Elizabeth turned her gaze in his direction.

Elizabeth's countenance quickly changed from the warm camaraderie she had displayed while conversing with Mr. Lucas to an icy glare upon meeting his own eyes.

The only obvious change in William's façade was the barely discernable tightening of the muscles in his jaw and neck--and if one knew him very well, one might have been able to detect a deep sorrow enter his eyes.

The subtle change in William's countenance had not gone unnoticed by one who may not have known this man well, but certainly had known his father very well indeed. In his younger days, he had been naturally attuned to watch for certain signals of George Darcy's discomfort so that he would know when it was time to tease him out of his reticence. Mr. Bennet saw it all and began to wonder--George Darcy had said that his son was even less comfortable in society than he had been when he was younger, and William had "had no Thomas Bennet to help him through it." The stony expression William was wearing was very much like what Mr. Bennet used to tease George about as being his "mask." Could William have taken after his father in the defenses he used while in society?

As he watched him, Mr. Bennet detected a certain something enter William's eyes and followed his gaze to Elizabeth's icy stare. Did he regret what he had done to Elizabeth, or did he regret that he did not have her heart as a plaything any longer? Would William make a try for her affections again, crushing her spirit even further when he left the area, as he surely would do judging by his behavior thus far? Mr. Bennet could not allow that to happen! He would watch William Darcy very closely from now on and warn him away from her if that seemed to be his intention… unless he proved himself worthy in some way.

"Oh, I apologize, Bennet. I only now recall that you have not met Mr. Darcy." Sir William Lucas interrupted his thoughts, noticing the way in which he was staring at William. "I will introduce you. You have met Mr. Bingley, yes?"

"Yes, I have had that pleasure, Lucas." Should he mention that he already knew William? No, it would be interesting to see how William handled the introduction. "Lead on!"

Mr. Bennet followed Sir William to where the Netherfield party stood. "Mr. Bingley, I believe you remember Mr. Thomas Bennet of Longbourn. I would like to introduce Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, Mr. Victor Hurst, Mrs. Louisa Hurst, and Miss Caroline Bingley." Everyone bowed and curtsied when appropriate.

When William straightened, he locked eyes in contest with Mr. Bennet. The younger man had a defiant look in his eyes that raised the elder's ire, but neither said a word to the other. Bingley went on with some social chatter to which Mr. Bennet paid the proper attention, but William's eyes never left the man who, in his opinion, had dishonored his father and had ruined his beloved's opinion of him, stealing any chance at his having a happy life.

When an opportunity arose for the two gentlemen to speak alone, William had to ask, "Why, sir?"

"I understand you not, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet answered.

"How could you pretend not to understand, Mr. Bennet?" Mr. Bennet's ignoring his promise to his father had been difficult, but he must know that his interference in William's relationship with Elizabeth had been the single most devastating thing that could have happened to him. How could the man not discern his meaning?

"Mr. Darcy, you must speak more clearly if you wish others to comprehend what you say." Mr. Bennet was becoming quite annoyed.

"What did I do to deserve such treatment?" William said with a commanding air.

The pain in William's eyes confused Mr. Bennet, though his ire at the younger man remained strong. How could William not expect that he would be treated with disdain by the father of the woman he had disappointed so cruelly? Did he think all would be forgotten due to his rank and wealth?

"Where do you find the courage to ask me such a question as that? You know perfectly well what you have done. I do not wish to embarrass any of those present by airing our disagreement in company," Mr. Bennet replied, with a stern look.

"I had thought you understood my reasons for what had been done," William said with anger, though, within, his heart was aching for having gone to Elizabeth's rooms at Pemberley that night. If he had only trusted that Mr. Bennet would give him time alone with Elizabeth before they left, would Mr. Bennet have kept Georgiana's letters from her, cut off relations between the families, and turned Elizabeth against him? Was it all truly William's own doing--or had Mr. Bennet already planned it before he had gone to her rooms and had he been upset that William had found an opportunity to explain himself to her, making Mr. Bennet's job of convincing her that he had abandoned her all the more difficult?

"Yes, I understand your reasons perfectly… which answers your question exactly!" Mr. Bennet said a little too loudly, attracting the attention of those surrounding them. Of course, her father would resent the man who would think his daughter worthy of dallying with in the country, but unworthy of marrying and presenting to the ton as his wife. He had abandoned his favorite! What was William thinking by confronting him on this subject?

Mr. Bennet's reply made it clear to William that he had been correct! Mr. Bennet never had approved of him for his daughter. William had made it perfectly clear that he went to see Elizabeth in her rooms in order to make certain she knew of his regard for her! Or was it simply the fact that William had not trusted Mr. Bennet that bothered him? He could not ask Mr. Bennet here, but he was becoming so angry that he did straighten his back further and take a step closer to Mr. Bennet to take up a more intimidating stance.

A movement in the periphery caught his eye, and William turned to see Elizabeth with a look of panic on her face. Realizing it was he causing her such discomfort convinced him to back down from this confrontation. No matter how much agony her behavior was causing him, it was not her fault the situation existed, and he did not wish to be the author of any further pain of hers. He bowed slightly to Mr. Bennet and walked away.

William had spent a good portion of the first part of the evening after the encounter with Mr. Bennet attempting to calm himself while observing his favorite person in the world, Elizabeth. Feeling more comfortable when able to hear her voice, he followed her wherever she moved within the room.

After a while, William was surprised to find himself the subject of her discourse with Miss Charlotte Lucas. Elizabeth asked Miss Lucas if she could account for William's listening to her conversations and the scowl on his face. Had she said or done anything worthy of such harsh criticism?

William reluctantly moved further away from Elizabeth after hearing this comment. Baron Leisenheimer had been correct about his mask--she thought he looked at her to find fault! He wished he could discard it, but realized the effort it would have taken to even attempt to remove it was not at all possible in this hostile environment.

Later, as William was lost in reviewing in his mind Elizabeth's song that had just ended, Sir William approached and began to speak of dancing. William knew his responses to Sir William were rude, but he wished to be left alone with his fantasy that Elizabeth had been singing to him and hoped that Sir William would just leave him be.

Sir William took hold of a passerby's hand--Elizabeth!--and offered her as a dance partner. Every fiber of his being desired to have her accept his offer to dance willingly, but she said that she had not the least intention of dancing, and so continued on her way across the room without another look at the man whose cold expression broke her heart every time she saw it.

William returned to the pastime of watching Elizabeth from afar, and Elizabeth continued to attempt to pretend that she did not notice his icy stare.

The Phillips' Home, Meryton

Since the militia had been quartered at Meryton, many of the houses in the neighborhood had hosted teas and dinners with the officers as guests. Today it was Elizabeth's Aunt and Uncle Phillips who were hosting a dinner party, and among the officers was a new recruit, a Lieutenant Wickham. Having spent time with the Darcy's steward during her stay at their estate, Elizabeth's curiosity got the better of her, and she inquired as to his place of birth.

"Derbyshire, ma'am," said he. "My father was the steward on one of the largest estates in all of England--Pemberley." Wickham could tell her curiosity had been piqued; could this be the Miss Elizabeth Bennet that he had heard so much about from his father and Georgiana Darcy? If so, he had a debt to settle with her! The only reason he had not succeeded with his seduction of Georgiana Darcy was due to this woman's prior influence on the young girl! He intended to speak of the Darcys at length to see if she betrayed any acquaintance with them.

"Well, then, you might be pleased to know that Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy is in the neighborhood, staying at Netherfield with his friend, Mr. Bingley."

Elizabeth was startled to see that Mr. Wickham did not look very pleased at all. "Ah… I see." He cleared his throat, and then said, "Well, I am glad that I did not know of it before accepting this post for I might have requested an assignment to a different area of England and missed meeting all of the fine people of Meryton. I suppose now that I am here, I will not be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go."

Elizabeth raised her brows quickly at this statement. She had never heard anything, good or bad, about Mr. Wickham's son, but something about this man's practiced charm did not sit right with her. She waited silently to see if he would continue, and that he did.

"We are not on friendly terms, you see, and it always gives me pain to meet him. I have no reason for avoiding him but what I might proclaim to the entire world -- a sense of very great ill-usage and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed and the truest friend I ever had. I can never be in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. Fitzwilliam Darcy's behavior to me has been scandalous and an act of disrespect to his father's memory, but I do believe I would forgive him everything rather than publicly disgrace the memory of his father by revealing the truth about his heir."

Elizabeth's stomach had dropped halfway through his speech, and it took a few moments for her mind to clear enough to be able to speak. "Excuse me, Mr. Wickham… did you say 'the late Mr. Darcy'? Are you saying that Mr. George Darcy is dead?"

"Yes, Miss Elizabeth; Fitzwilliam Darcy is now master of Pemberley."

Elizabeth paled at this, confirming Wickham's suspicions that she was the lady he sought.

"Miss Elizabeth, may I get you some wine, perhaps? You do not look well."

"No… I thank you, Mr. Wickham, no. I will be well. It was just a bit of a shock." They sat in silence for a minute before Elizabeth said, "Pray, continue, sir. You were saying that Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy's behavior has disrespected his father's memory?"

"I have been a disappointed man, Miss Elizabeth. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession. I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now."

"Indeed!"

"Yes, the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it, but when the living fell vacant, it was given elsewhere."

"Good heavens!" cried Elizabeth. "But how could his will be disregarded? Did not you seek legal redress?"

"There was just such informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope. A man of honor could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it--or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation. The living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and it was given to another man. I cannot accuse myself of having done anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me."

"This is quite shocking! Perhaps he deserves to be publicly disgraced." It seemed to Elizabeth that William had changed greatly and needed to be put in his place.

"Some time or other he will be--but it shall not be by me. 'Til I can forget his father, I can never expose his son."

Elizabeth searched Mr. Wickham's face. What he had said so far validated how William had obviously not followed his father's wishes in contacting her own father upon his death--if, of course, that was still his wish upon his death, and it might not have been, but she would have to think upon that subject later. Of immediate import was the question of how Lieutenant Wickham could say he would not expose William's alleged misdeeds when he was, at that very moment, doing exactly that by speaking of it to her? How much else of what Mr. Wickham was saying was only partially true, or a contradiction she had not yet discerned? She spoke again, "But what could have been his motive? What could have induced him to behave so cruelly?"

"A thorough, determined dislike of me--a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Darcy liked me less, his son might have borne with me better, but his father's uncommon attachment and favoritism toward me irritated him throughout his life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood--the sort of preference which was often given me.''

Elizabeth had seen William's father interact with William on many occasions, and she could not believe what Lieutenant Wickham was saying at present. Through all the years she had known them, the late Mr. Darcy had loved his son very well indeed, and she had no doubt that William was sure of it. Lieutenant Wickham's credibility was quickly wearing thin.

Lieutenant Wickham continued, "We were born in the same parish, within the same park, and the greatest part of our youth was passed together; inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care since his father treated me as if I were his own son. My father devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Darcy often acknowledged himself to be under the greatest obligations to my father's active superintendence, and when Mr. Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me in his will, I am convinced that he felt it to be as much a debt of gratitude to him, as of affection to myself."

Half truths again, Elizabeth thought, but they were said with such conviction that she could not help but wonder if Lieutenant Wickham actually believed what he was saying. She knew that the elder Mr. Wickham had been greatly valued, but "objects of the same parental care?" He said it as if Mr. Darcy treated him as another son. If that were true, where was Lieutenant Wickham when she had met with the Darcys at Longbourn, those many times in London and at Pemberley, and why had not Mr. Darcy ever spoken of him in any of their meetings?

"Do you know Mr. Bingley?"

"Not at all."

"He is a sweet tempered, amiable, charming man. He is a great friend of Mr. Darcy's."

"Ah, and you wonder how Mr. Bingley, being such a man, could be friends with him and not know what Mr. Darcy is? Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want for abilities. He can be a convivial companion if he thinks it worth his while. Among those he wishes to please, he is a very different man from what he is to those he does not care for. His pride never deserts him, but with friends, he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honorable, and perhaps agreeable--allowing something for fortune and… figure." Lieutenant Wickham's eyes wandered down to her figure.

This last speech hit too close to Elizabeth's heart for her tastes, and so she changed the direction in which their discussion was headed, gauging the man on other subjects. She found him to talk smoothly around any issue--saying much of nothing in most cases--interspersing enough truths to convince most people who had general knowledge of the subject that he knew of what he was speaking, but there were too many half-truths, distortions, and conjecture which he attempted to pass off as fact, to fool someone as well educated and as intelligent as Elizabeth.

All this was analyzed thoroughly to keep her mind off the thing she did not wish to think of lest she become upset. Mr. George Darcy was dead--and William had not the decency to inform her or her father of that fact, not by letter and not even after being in the same neighborhood all this time.

Elizabeth knew that she must tell her father of the passing of his old friend. As with many things she did not like to do, she wished to be done with it as soon as possible; so after breakfast the following morning, Elizabeth knocked on her father's study door, and he bid her to enter.

"Papa… I must speak to you about a serious subject." Her father motioned to the chair in front of his desk and she sat fidgeting for several moments before taking a breath to speak, but then closed her mouth again.

"What is it, Lizzy? I have rarely seen you so disturbed."

Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears as her mind began to do what she had somehow prevented it from doing since she had discovered this information the previous evening--all of her own interactions with Mr. George Darcy played out in her mind unbidden, and after they were done, tears escaped her eyes as she said, "We met Lieutenant George Wickham last night at Aunt Phillips' home. He is the son of Mr. Wickham, the former steward at Pemberley."

Mr. Bennet's concern for his daughter was clearly displayed as he answered, "I heard the name come up several times this morning at breakfast and was wondering if he was somehow related. But why does this information have you so out of sorts, Lizzy?"

"Lieutenant Wickham informed me… Oh papa!" more tears escaped her eyes, "Mr. George Darcy has passed away."

Mr. Bennet closed his eyes and sat unmoving for several minutes before he spoke, "When?"

"I do not know exactly, Papa, but from what Lieutenant Wickham said, I could discern it was at least two years ago."

"Two years?" Mr. Bennet's face began to redden. "Two years!" He stood and began to pace the room. "William never informed me!"

"Yes… I know."

"Even if George did have a change of heart about the suitability of our friendship after our last visit, which he obviously did, still I deserved to be notified of his passing at the very least. We grew up together at school! We did everything together! We were closer than most brothers for many years!" Mr. Bennet's voice rose louder with every exclamation, and his color was rising so quickly that Elizabeth was becoming frightened.

"Papa, you must calm yourself. It will do nobody good if you make yourself ill!"

He sat down heavily in the chair across from Elizabeth's. "How could I have been discarded in such a fashion as this, Lizzy? George and I--we had always had the ability to work through our differences, no matter how angry we were at each other. We could have talked… why did he never answer my letters?"

Elizabeth sobbed. "Papa, I apologize for getting in the way of your valued friendship. If only I had not gone to Pemberley with you…"

Mr. Bennet's eyes opened wide and he leaned across the space between their chairs and took her hand in his. "No! Oh, Lizzy! My dear girl! Do not take the blame on yourself. You are the least culpable of anyone, and you are the person most injured by the actions of all.

"As I have said before, George and I had talked about the differences in your stations, and he had no qualms. He urged me not to wait too long to give consent because he was ill and wished to live long enough to see William happy, and he even spoke of meeting his first grandchild!

"I cannot understand what happened, unless perhaps his illness affected his way of thinking. But he had his senses when we left; how could it have happened so quickly? It still makes no sense to me; now I will never have the chance to find out the truth, since William is not the least bit inclined to speak to me in anything but cryptic phrases."

Mr. Bennet dropped Elizabeth's hand and sat back suddenly exclaiming as if hearing it for the first time, "George is dead!" His fingers gripped the arms of the chair so firmly that his knuckles turned white.

Her father was quiet for a minute while Elizabeth watched all the color drain from his face and his breathing quicken. Her concern for his health was increasing.

"Papa? Are you well?" She said, feeling panic, but trying to keep her tone even.

"Lizzy? I fear you must call Mr. Jones." He was breathing so quickly now that he had to stop speaking between every word or two to take a breath, and his voice came out as a whisper.

"Papa?" Elizabeth said as she rushed to ring the bell for Mrs. Hill, and then kneeled at her father's side.

"I am feeling very unwell, Lizzy. I have a pain here," he said, placing a hand upon his chest, "and it is becoming very difficult to breathe."

Elizabeth knew this was not good news, but needed to keep him as calm as possible. "Just sit back and rest, Papa. All will be well."

Mrs. Hill knocked and entered when Elizabeth called out. "Close the door, Mrs. Hill." Elizabeth waited until she did so before approaching and whispering with a pointed look at her father, "Mr. Jones must be fetched at once, but do not alert the family that it is for my father's sake, Mrs. Hill. Mama would be in here in a moment if she knew, and he does not need that just now! If my mother asks, Mr. Jones has been called for my sake--she will not enter the study for my being ill. Bring in a pot of Mama's calming tea, please, as soon as you can. Tell Joseph to hurry, though, in case my guess about what is occurring here is wrong!"

Mrs. Hill's eyes had been wide since entering and seeing the master, understanding immediately the gravity of the situation. She rushed out of the room to do her duty.

Luckily, Mrs. Hill's nephew Joseph was a very fast runner, and Mr. Jones was in his curricle just returning to his office when Joseph got there.

When Mr. Jones entered the study, Mr. Bennet had already taken a cup of the tea at Elizabeth's insistence, and his breathing and color were a little better. Elizabeth explained what had happened, and Mr. Jones examined Mr. Bennet thoroughly. "Well, Bennet… I think it was your turn to have a bout of nerves instead of your wife!"

Mr. Bennet's eyes widened. "That was nerves?"

"Yes, thankfully, I do believe it was. Your heart sounds fine, and Miss Lizzy did say you had just received some disturbing news…" Mr. Jones turned to Elizabeth and said, "The tea was good thinking on your part Miss Lizzy."

Mr. Bennet's mouth was hanging open. "My wife has fits like this?"

"Most of them have not been quite as severe as the one Miss Lizzy described to me, but yes it is similar to what your wife experiences."

"My G-d! I had no idea! I had no control over it at all. And I have treated the idea of her nerves as a joke all this time!" Mr. Bennet's brow furrowed, and he shook his head. "Thank you, Jones. I will admit that if this is what she has been experiencing all these years--even a less severe version of it--I now cannot help but have a new sense of respect and sympathy for Mrs. Bennet!"

Chapter 14

Several days later while at breakfast, Jane received a note from Caroline Bingley requesting her presence at Netherfield to dine with the ladies, as the gentlemen would be dining with Colonel Forster and the officers.

"It is unfortunate that Mr. Bingley will not be present, Jane, but take advantage of this opportunity to display your good nature to his sisters! They could not be but impressed with you, my dear! You will go on Nellie."

"But Mama! It looks like rain! If Jane travels by horseback, she will be soaked through!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Oh Lizzy, your father is always speaking of how intelligent you are; how do you not understand something so simple? If it rains, she will have to stay the night and will see Mr. Bingley after all!"

Jane blushed, Lydia and Kitty giggled, Mary scowled and shook her head, and Mr. Bennet continued eating his breakfast as if he had heard nothing of what had just passed. Only Lizzy was upset that Mrs. Bennet would expose her daughter to the foul weather all in the name of "catching a husband," but since Jane expressed no opposition to the idea, she made no further comment.

Elizabeth regretted that decision when later that day, Mrs. Bennet received a note from Miss Bingley saying that Jane was ill and would be staying the night.

The following morning, Elizabeth received a note from Jane asking for some clothing to be sent. "Do not be alarmed, dearest Lizzy, if you should hear that Mr. Jones has been sent for. I am very unwell and will need some droughts." Elizabeth packed a trunk for Jane and had it sent to Netherfield with Joseph before going downstairs to break her fast.

After reading that Jane, who never complained, actually stated in her note that she was unwell, Elizabeth had decided that she would set off for Netherfield herself to see how Jane fared. She mentioned her plans at breakfast.

Mrs. Bennet reproached Elizabeth. "What nonsense, Lizzy! The horses are being used on the farm today. If you walk, you will be covered in mud and not fit to be seen! Besides, there is no sense in your going to Netherfield; there is nothing for you there. It would be a wiser course for you to leave any nursing to Mr. Bingley's sisters--it will create a bond between them and Jane. You would be better off going into Meryton with Kitty and Lydia to your Aunt Phillips's in order to be seen by the officers."

"I will be fit to be seen by Jane, which is my only purpose in going to Netherfield, Mama. Do you not believe Jane would be more comfortable with me there?"

"Oh, you are too stubborn to convince otherwise, and I will not hear the end of it until I agree. Go if you feel you must."

Mr. Bennet spoke quietly to Elizabeth after the others were busy discussing red coats, "I do not like this plan, Lizzy. I do not like your being in the same house as he."

"Papa, I have no intention of seeing Mr. Darcy while I am there. It is not as if he is a dangerous man who hides behind doors and will spring out at me; he is only offensive. You know very well I can defend myself from anything he might say if we do happen to meet. I will visit with Jane and see how she is feeling. Someone needs to wait on her, and I do not wish to leave it to a maid whom Jane has never met before. I am absolutely certain Mr. Bingley's sisters have no patience for a sick room." Elizabeth said the last in a teasing tone of voice.

Mr. Bennet sighed, "I suppose you are right, and you may go--but still, I do not like it."

Elizabeth set off soon after breakfast, walked with her sisters as far as Meryton, and then took a little-travelled path to Netherfield after passing through the village. As soon as she was able to see the manor house through the trees, she stopped to examine her attire. Her mother had been right--her skirts were muddied, but the walk had done her good in clearing the cobwebs from her mind, making her better prepared to encounter William if he dared to approach her.

As she was nearing the house, she came around a hedge and stopped short, almost walking into somebody who had turned the corner from the opposite direction. Hands reached out quickly and took hold of her arms to steady her.

"OH!" Elizabeth exclaimed, and she looked up to find herself being held by William. She deeply inhaled his scent, exactly as she had remembered it to be, and old memories of being close to him flooded her mind. For a few moments the two of them stood there in the same position staring at each other. The look in William's eyes shocked her, for it was anything but the cold exterior he had been displaying since she had met him again--it was the old William that she had known and loved at Pemberley--and her heart began to beat so frantically that she was certain he could hear it. He leaned down toward her just a little while tilting his head to the side, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Her intake of breath was barely audible, but enough for him to remember himself. He schooled his features and stepped back, dropping his arms to his sides.

"Excuse me, Miss Elizabeth. I did not know you were coming to Netherfield today." He continued in his thoughts, "Though I should have expected you to; with your kind and generous heart, you would come all this way to nurse your sister, even though you had to walk! I wonder… if Georgiana had sent someone for you instead of relying on a letter that your father did not allow you to know of…"

Blushing, Elizabeth blinked a few times before saying absent-mindedly, "I have come to see my sister, Jane."

"Yes, of course," William breathed as he motioned toward the house. He waited for her to begin to walk before he followed and caught up to her.

William decided he should not be thinking of what he wished would have happened if he had kissed her, lest he pull her to a stop and follow through on those thoughts. Elizabeth began walking very quickly, as if she had read his mind and could not wait to be away from him.

He fell into step beside and one pace behind her, hoping that being farther apart would make her feel more comfortable in his presence. This position also conveniently provided him with the perfect view of her profile.

The lock of hair he had cut off had grown back, and it was teasing him as it had done years earlier. William touched his ring, where this curl's predecessor now resided. He then became entranced by a little scar on her jaw line just below her right ear that he had not noticed before, and he was suddenly almost overwhelmed with the desire to caress it. William sensed an interesting story could be told about how it came to be and wondered if he should ask her to share it with him. But, no--that was a conversation one would have with a friend, and Elizabeth seemed to wish that he was not even among her acquaintance.

They continued on to the house in silence, where he showed her to her sister's room, and left her with a bow.

Elizabeth stood and admired the exquisiteness of his form as William walked away from her and down the stairs. She hesitated a moment as she blushed at the impropriety of her thoughts and leaned her forehead against the cool wood of Jane's bedchamber door--her mind was in a muddle at the moment, and she needed to compose herself before seeing Jane.

Had he really almost kissed her when they met a few minutes ago? Why? Did he expect that she was a wanton woman since she had kissed him in the past? She chastised herself; with the way she had behaved that night he had come to her chamber, it really would be a wonder if he did not! But then why did he look at her in that way before he stopped himself? If he thought her immoral, why would he have stopped at all? From where they had been standing, nobody would have been able to see them from the house, and they encountered no one on their approach to the house, so he could not have been afraid of witnesses.

She could not help but focus on his expression before he had raised his cold, stern countenance with which she was becoming quite familiar. That was her William! He was still inside that frigid shell somewhere. With a little encouragement from her, could the old William be summoned forward? If he did appear again, did she wish to encourage him after all that had happened--and had not happened--between them?

She could not help but wonder how things would have proceeded if he had kissed her. Would it have been as wonderful as it had been long ago, or would it have left her feeling sullied?

What would it have meant to him if they had kissed? Would it have been all part of a game to him, to see if he could deceive her into loving him again? Or was it as she had always hoped--that he had loved her all this time, but something had prevented him from coming to her before now?

But that made no sense at all! Even if his father had changed his mind and had begun to object to her as his heir's wife just after they had left Pemberley, Mr. Darcy had been dead for more than two years according to Lieutenant Wickham. Surely William would have been able to come before now if he truly loved her! If something had prevented him, surely he could have written to her father to explain why he could not come for her at that time! And why would he be acting the way he had most of the time since he had come to Hertfordshire if that were true?

The hope that he loved her was a foolish, childish dream, and she had to bury it deep inside and never let it come to the surface again!

Elizabeth's mind was distracted by so many questions to which she did not have answers that she forgot she was standing in the corridor at Netherfield with her forehead pressed against Jane's bedchamber door. The door to Jane's room flew open and Elizabeth fell forward, bumping into Caroline Bingley, who about to leave the room. It was obvious by Caroline's scream that Elizabeth had frightened her quite thoroughly. Elizabeth apologized--twice--and then began to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, but Miss Bingley was not amused in the least!

"Miss Eliza! Why are you here? What are on earth were you doing leaning on the door? Should we soon expect to find you listening at keyholes as well?"

"Again, I am sorry for frightening you, Miss Bingley! I have just walked here from Longbourn to see Jane, and I felt a little flushed, so I placed my forehead upon the cool wood of the door before entering to see how my sister fares. I should have realized that there was a possibility of the door's being opened, but clearly that thought had never entered my mind." She thought, "I was too distracted by thoughts of William!"

"With the redness of the mark on your forehead I would think you were there leaning against the door for quite a while. Are you certain you did not mean to overhear our conversation instead of the explanation you have given?"

"I assure you, Miss Bingley! I would never eavesdrop on a private conversation!" Elizabeth arched her brow, wondering if Caroline had a habit of listening to other's conversations and if that was why she was insisting that Elizabeth had been doing so.

Caroline caught her accusing look and sneered at her. It made no difference to Caroline that Elizabeth was correct; it was simply rude to accuse her betters of such things! Caroline said, "I was just leaving, Miss Eliza. You will excuse me."

"Of course." Elizabeth curtsied, but Caroline did not return it, walked through the doorway, and continued down the hall. Elizabeth closed the door and approached Jane, chuckling.

"Lizzy, it is so good to see you."

Concern for her sister became foremost in her mind when Elizabeth saw that Jane was flushed with fever and seemed very weak. She rushed forward the remaining steps to her sister's bedside. "Dearest Jane, you are very ill indeed! Has no one been bathing you to bring down your fever?"

Jane shook her head.

"Well, then, I will stay right here and do so, and I will tell you stories of the adventures of the Dreaded Pirate Lizzy until you fall asleep," Elizabeth said with a tender smile.

Once Jane began to slumber, Elizabeth refreshed the cloth only every few minutes for she knew, since Mr. Jones had told Jane she had a bad cold, that she needed rest most of all. With little to keep her occupied, her mind wandered back to her questions about William, and she became lost in thoughts of him once again.

A knock upon the door startled Elizabeth back to the present and she answered it. A maid had been sent by Mr. Bingley to ask if she would like a luncheon tray sent up for herself and some soup for Miss Bennet. Elizabeth thought that was a wonderful idea, and asked for a fresh pitcher of water as well, since the one that had been there was now empty.

When the maid returned, Jane was awakened and drank a little of the broth with a pained expression. "Jane, I know it hurts to swallow, but you must take some nourishment. If you are a good little girl and drink all of your soup, I will tell you another story!" Elizabeth teased a weak smile from her sister as she tenderly wiped Jane's brow again. A while later, after Jane had taken another short nap, Caroline and Mrs. Hurst came to visit.

"Oh, you do look ill, Miss Bennet," Mrs. Hurst said with such an expression of concern that at first Elizabeth thought better of her--until she continued, "Perhaps we should not be here, Caroline! We will both become as ill as Miss Bennet!"

"We will only stay a short while, Louisa--long enough to say goodbye to Miss Eliza and show her out," Caroline answered with a satisfied smile.

Jane became visibly upset, "Must you go, Lizzy?"

"I am afraid I must, or I will have to walk home in the dark."

Seeing Jane become even more agitated, Caroline realized that if Elizabeth stayed, she would not be inconvenienced by having to supervise a servant attending to her ill guest, and she did not have to visit or sit with Jane as often… and it would show off her excellent skills as a hostess to her other guest.

"Miss Eliza, it is plain to see that dearest Jane would be easier if you stayed until she is well enough to return home. Will you?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Stay in the same house with William? This cannot be happening!" The memory of her own voice telling her father that someone needed to tend to Jane came back to her. Without further hesitation she agreed and walked over to the writing desk to send a note to her father, requesting that some clothing be sent as soon as possible. Elizabeth added:

"Papa, please do not worry; I am fine. I will remain with Jane in her room as much as is possible without appearing rude to Mr. Bingley. The moment Jane is well enough to take the carriage ride home, you may be certain that we will return to Longbourn. All will be well."

After assisting Jane in taking some more broth, Elizabeth changed for dinner. Rejoining her sister, Elizabeth asked Jane once again if she was absolutely certain that she was well enough to leave her with the maid. Jane assured her that she wished to sleep for a while and would do fine with the maid that had been sent to attend her while Elizabeth dined.

Elizabeth smiled at the maid and stressed, "If Miss Bennet needs me, Helen, please do not hesitate to send for me immediately. I will check on her as soon as dinner is done. Will you please refresh the cloth on her forehead every few minutes?"

Helen agreed and curtsied, and Elizabeth looked back at Jane one last time before leaving the room. In the hallway, she stopped with a hand on the wall to steady herself and closed her eyes for a moment. Elizabeth felt guilty--while the main reason she did not wish to leave Jane was because she was ill, there was also a portion of it that was pure selfishness. William would be at dinner. It took an enormous effort not to display her tender feelings for him whenever he was simply mentioned, let alone when he was in the same room as she. But it must be done, and so she had better get to it! She took a long, deep breath and let it out slowly, straightened her back, and descended the stairs.

All day, William had been so distracted by knowing that Elizabeth was in the house that he was halfway into the hallway before he realized he had forgotten his gloves. Turning back to retrieve them, he left the door to his chamber open slightly--as a result, when he exited his room the door made no noise. He saw Elizabeth exit her sister's room at the same moment and turn right toward the stairs. The young gentleman paused, thinking he should allow her to get ahead of him lest she feel uncomfortable. Then she stopped suddenly, holding on to the wall as if to steady herself, and he watched her shoulders droop. Being behind her, he could not see her face, but for a short period of time, she had the posture of a person who felt completely defeated.

He was shocked, and realized he had seen Elizabeth in a vulnerable state of mind only once before, when she thought he had rejected her. His instinct was to gather her in his arms, offer her his strength, and make everything right again just as he had done years ago--and if she had remained in that position any longer than she had, he most likely would have given in to the impulse--but just as suddenly as it had come over her, it was gone. After sighing deeply, she straightened her form and walked on.

Though his intuition told him it was futile, he hoped that whatever had conquered her strong spirit in that way was not in any way related to him. Perhaps it was Caroline that caused her discomfort? Or worry for her sister? Just in case, he returned to his room for a few minutes.

After closing the door, William found he was not able to move any further into the room, and he leaned his back against the wall just inside, waiting to hear another's footsteps on the stairs. He did not wish to make Elizabeth uneasy by forcing her to be alone with him if none of the others had yet gone down to dinner.

"I should leave if my presence causes her to become so disturbed. I should return to London or Pemberley and not annoy her any longer. But I cannot--I am too selfish--I will not leave until all hope is gone. If this is a completely useless endeavor, I suppose the only time I waste is my own. But no time spent in her presence is wasted."

Hearing Bingley's distinctive footfalls on the stairs, he waited a few more minutes before he straightened his own form and followed. He was resolved to make an attempt to take the Baron's advice while Elizabeth was staying at Netherfield and do away with the mask he usually wore. It was probably his only hope!

Elizabeth was embarrassed. Apparently having dinner set for a certain time at Netherfield meant that one should not come down until much later than the appointed time. The cook must have been very annoyed with them all when they had first moved in!

During her wait, Elizabeth busied her mind contemplating her temporary housemates, attempting to keep herself from thinking about one person in particular.

Whether Jane admitted it or not, Elizabeth knew her sister was well on her way to falling in love, and it seemed to her that Bingley's feelings were even further along than Jane's.

Being a classic beauty, Jane had always had many admirers, but this was the first time that Elizabeth had ever seen Jane take such an interest in a man. It was also the first time she had seen a man take a genuine interest in Jane--the person--and not treat her like a china-doll that was useful only enough to be put on display. The two had spent their time in each other's company involved in earnest discussions, touching on many subjects.

At first Elizabeth had been surprised at the depth of some of their conversations, but no longer. She knew how intelligent Jane really was, but, unlike her own case, their mother had been successful in convincing Jane to conceal it. Elizabeth was pleased to see that Jane was hiding this aspect of her personality no longer! Most people assumed Bingley was not very bright, and Elizabeth wondered why. Yes, he smiled often, was extremely amiable, knew how please others, and liked having a good laugh, but judging from the conversations he held with Jane and her, he was quite intelligent.

Why William had sought out Bingley's friendship became clearer every time Elizabeth spoke to Bingley--but she could not understand why Bingley tolerated William! Bingley did not seem the type to use anybody for his own gain, as his sisters did. Caroline Bingley's and Louisa Hurst's only interest in William was obviously mercenary--of the material and social variety! But Elizabeth could not see that trait evident in Bingley's character.

Perhaps Lieutenant Wickham was right and when the two gentlemen were alone, William was more amiable. After all, she had seen it herself; when William wished to please, as he did with her at Pemberley, he could be truly pleasant.

Elizabeth caught herself--she was not supposed to be thinking of William--and so she changed the direction of her thoughts again.

Caroline Bingley was a nasty shrew, plain and simple, who thought herself far above her station in life and treated people who were above her in the social order as if they were far below her. Not that Elizabeth usually paid much attention to such things, but in this case she did because it was the basis of all of the complaints that she had overheard the lady voice about the neighborhood. No matter how diligently Elizabeth tried not to listen, it was very difficult not to overhear a woman who shrieked as loudly as did Caroline whenever she complained, and she complained most of the time! If it were not so hurtful to her friends, it would be amusing to watch the lady treat the local gentry as if they were trash. Caroline seemed to forget that she was the daughter of a tradesman, even if her brother was now a gentleman who was leasing an estate and even if her sister had married a gentleman. Neither of the men owned any land; therefore, the Bingleys were below the residents of the neighborhood with whom Caroline unwillingly socialized.

Elizabeth was shocked when she realized that if people were not useful to Caroline's social-climbing endeavors, they were obviously not worth even her effort of being completely civil to them. The only two people that the young lady treated with any respect were the Baron and Baroness Leisenheimer. Elizabeth did wonder why she was being so nice to Jane, and she had the feeling it was simply boredom--but then again, who could not be nice to Jane? Caroline did make comments to Jane that were mocking, but Jane's gentle heart was too good to understand them as they were meant.

How the lady treated the servants was absolutely horrid! Elizabeth took even greater care than usual to be especially kind to them all since they had to deal with Caroline on a daily basis!

Louisa Hurst was not much better, though she seemed to be the less strong-minded of the sisters and followed wherever Caroline led. Sometimes Mrs. Hurst reminded Elizabeth of a puppet.

Mr. Hurst--well there was a man she could not puzzle out at all! He did not seem of use to anyone other than having given his name to Louisa! He had spoken rarely, eaten too much, and drunk himself into a stupor every time she had seen him. Perhaps living in the same household with him for a few days would give her insight into his character, but for now he seemed not to have any character at all!

Elizabeth heard the door to the dining room open, and her heart skipped a beat in nervous anticipation. She turned to see who would be her first conversation partner for the evening. She was thankful that it was Bingley and not William, as she could not imagine being alone with him just now. Bingley was as pleasant as always and seemed truly concerned about Jane. Elizabeth smiled inwardly at the thought of how Jane's countenance would brighten when she gave her Bingley's messages.

Before long, William entered, and the others followed shortly thereafter. Perhaps Elizabeth would be better off being a full thirty minutes late to dinner the following evening! She was sure that if the others were on time, Caroline would not hesitate to start without her.

Elizabeth was more concerned with knowing when it would no longer be rude to go above stairs to check on Jane's health rather than remain to converse this evening. Keeping in mind her promise to her father, Elizabeth remained quiet, and instead of joining the conversation, she observed her companions to further her character study of the members of the household.

Conversation was centered on the subject of how the two ladies were looking forward to the Season in London. The schedule of operas and plays that would be performed was discussed as well. Elizabeth was amused that the ladies seemed interested only in "being seen" at these events and had no true interest in discussing the operas or plays themselves. While William and Bingley were debating a certain part of the text of one of the plays, Caroline attempted to join in, putting the character names with the wrong characterizations and revealing that her understanding of the plot was superficial at best.

During the dessert course, Caroline said with a smirk, "I apologize, Miss Eliza, for speaking on subjects that you know nothing of. Perhaps we should speak of pigs and sheep, so that you might feel more at home."

While Elizabeth had been amused with the comment and was too busy hiding her smile behind her napkin to reply at that moment, she glanced at William to see his reaction to Caroline's insult. It took her completely by surprise when she saw signs indicating that William was incensed and attempting to control his temper!

"It just so happens, Miss Bingley, that Miss Elizabeth not only has read and completely understood all of the plays that will be performed this season, but also she can discuss them intelligently in six languages," William said in a strained voice.

Elizabeth tried not to gape at William's defense of her abilities.

Caroline made no attempt to hide that she did not believe his statement. "Is that so?"

"No, it is not," Elizabeth stated seriously. William could see by the light dancing in her eyes that something she had found amusing would follow the pause. "Actually, Mr. Darcy, I read and speak seven languages at present."

His demeanor softened a little when his eyes met hers. "I do remember your mentioning that you wished to learn Spanish."

The intensity of William's gaze held her own eyes captive for a few moments before she could take a breath and respond with only a simple, "Yes." Becoming very aware of the circumstances surrounding the conversation to which he referred, she felt her face beginning to flush. "I do need to check on my sister… if you will excuse me."

Only Bingley caught the brief expression of pain displayed in William's eyes as Elizabeth rose, and the appearance of utter confusion on Elizabeth's face as she left the room.

Jane was resting comfortably, and so Elizabeth made her way to the library to find a book to read during the short time she would stay in the drawing room and in case she was up during the night with Jane. Upon entering, she stood with her mouth open in amazement--she had never seen a library with so many empty shelves! There were only three in use. One shelf contained a few of the classics, which she had already read and memorized, of course. The shelf just above it held books on farming and animal husbandry, which she knew to be quite out of date. The one next to it was graced with a much more interesting selection. There were several that she had not already read, which could only delight her! Not mindful as to what the books were about--after all, beggars cannot be choosers--she chose the one with the title that was the most unique and removed herself to the drawing room.

When she entered she saw the remainder of the party was playing at loo. Elizabeth declined to join them since she would soon be retiring for the evening. Noticing that William's eyes were on the book in her hands, she held it out for him to see the title.

The corners of his lips turned up just a little before he said, "Thank you, Miss Elizabeth."

She blinked a couple of times before looking away from him, saying, "Mr. Bingley, I hope you do not mind that I took advantage of your kind offer to lend me a book from your library."

Bingley's glance at William was barely noticeable. "You were able to find something of interest within the few that were there, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Yes, I did, thank you."

Caroline pushed in to the conversation. "I am shocked that our father did not leave you a collection of books, Charles. You should begin a family library to be passed down through the generations using the delightful library at Pemberley as a model."

"Caroline! Pemberley's library is the work of many generations; I could not hope to accumulate so many books in my lifetime, even if I spent my entire income on the endeavor! Pemberley's library is not 'delightful,' it is magnificent and could never be reproduced by me alone. No, it will be up to my children and grandchildren to continue the tradition that I will begin--with Darcy's assistance in choosing the books, of course!"

Elizabeth held back a smile. After a few minutes passed, a maid came in to summon Miss Elizabeth saying that Jane's fever had risen, and she was needed above stairs. Bingley's anxiety was plain enough for anyone to see, and he asked if Mr. Jones should be sent for.

"Perhaps in the morning if she is not better, sir. For now, I have the droughts that Mr. Jones has left for her. I thank you."

Everyone bid Elizabeth a good night and sent their wishes for Miss Bennet's quick recovery before Elizabeth returned to her sister's bedside.

It was not until the middle of the night that she saw the elaborate bookplate which she recognized as identical to one in a book that had been in her bedside drawer at Longbourn for the past three years. Both books were from the library at Pemberley, added to the collection by Fitzwilliam Darcy. What this one was doing in Netherfield's library was beyond her willingness to hazard a guess, but there was a small part of her mind that could not help but wish that it had been placed there for her sake.

The following morning Elizabeth was able to report to the maid sent by Bingley that Jane's fever was lower and that she was resting comfortably; however, when Caroline and Mrs. Hurst came to visit a little while later, Elizabeth requested to send a note to her mother to ask if she could come to see Jane herself and form her own opinion. Caroline's look told Elizabeth everything she needed to know--Caroline despised the idea of having Mrs. Bennet in her house but would do whatever was necessary to be considered a good hostess.

Mrs. Bennet arrived in good time with her two youngest daughters in tow. It seemed that Bingley had been so worried about Jane that he had sent for Mr. Jones earlier that morning without checking with Elizabeth first, and the apothecary arrived at approximately the same time as the Bennet ladies. His examination complete, Mr. Jones announced to the ladies that Jane, although doing better than the previous day, was not to be moved as of yet. Mrs. Bennet met this news with a smile. As Mr. Jones was taking his leave, Elizabeth suggested the ladies allow Jane to rest while they returned downstairs to call upon the ladies of the house.

The visit went as Elizabeth had expected. Her mother was overly warm and enthusiastic with her thanks and praise of her daughters' hosts, and sharp and cold with William--even ignoring him altogether at times. Kitty and Lydia whispered and giggled throughout and then pressed Bingley to have a ball.

Bingley thought it a wonderful idea. "I would enjoy a ball very much and will set the date as soon as Miss Bennet is feeling better!"

After her mother and sisters had gone home, Elizabeth escaped to Jane's bedside as soon as possible in order to avoid hearing the criticism of her family that she knew would follow, but found Jane sound asleep. Elizabeth inquired whether the maid could stay a little longer, and since she could, Elizabeth decided to go for a walk to clear her head of all the unwelcome thoughts following her family's visit.

Elizabeth walked toward the stables, and as she approached, she saw a familiar-looking horse in the meadow next to the structure. "Poseidon?" she asked aloud.

A stable hand who had been nearby answered, "Yes'm, 'tis Mr. Darcy's horse. We be comin' to get 'im to try groomin' 'im. 'e's a tough one, 'e is! Takes three of us to 'andle 'im!"

"Oh! That is nonsense. I will bring him into the stable for grooming myself!" Elizabeth said as she opened the gate and walked towards the horse. The stable hand yelled after her, but the lady would not return without Poseidon, so he ran to get help. When they heard what was occurring outside, most of the staff came running, expecting to have to rescue the foolish lady, but what the men found when they arrived astounded them all. Poseidon was nuzzling Elizabeth's neck and then lowered his head to her, laying it against her chest as she scratched his neck.

"Look at that! Ol' Lucifer is partial to the lady!" the head groom said.

"Lucifer? His name is Poseidon," she said as she led the horse over to the gate.

"Beggin' your pardon, ma'am, but we call 'im Lucifer 'cause 'e is always so downright nasty; 'e's like tha devil 'imself sometimes!"

"Really! Why does everyone insist this horse is nasty? He is sweet and spirited!" she laughed as Poseidon nudged her with his nose. "If you can proceed quickly, I will hold him while you groom him, but I must return to my sister soon. Do you have some carrots to keep him occupied?"

The head groom's face brightened. "Yes'm, that would be a great 'elp! We'll both work on 'im at once to make tha task go quickly," he said, pointing to the stable hand who had first come across Elizabeth.

William escaped the room shortly after Elizabeth's mother and sisters had gone. He had no intention of listening to Bingley's sisters make insulting remarks about his beloved's family and decided the best course would be to leave the house. He changed into his riding attire and headed for the stables.

As he rounded a corner entering the stables, William stopped short. The scene of Elizabeth holding Poseidon's head and whispering into his ear while two men groomed him was heartwarming, and he did not wish to interrupt. William slowly backed up so that he could watch but not be seen.

Elizabeth was such an amazing person! What other woman would do such a thing? Though many gentlemen had a special bond with their horses, most of them would not help the grooms do their work.

She laughed as Poseidon nudged the pocket where she must have been hiding extra carrots. William had not seen her look this happy since he had entered the neighborhood.

The last thought caused a mixture of emotions to swell within his breast. It was wonderful that his horse could make her happy, but that he could not elicit the same emotion from her was disheartening.

No, he would not think upon this now; he wished only to enjoy watching her amusement while it lasted.

Elizabeth arrived at the doors to the dining room a full thirty minutes after the appointed time for dinner. As she had descended the stairs a few moments prior, she had seen Mr. and Mrs. Hurst enter the dining room. She was still smiling at the ingenuity of her timing. The footman reached for the door to open it for her and cringed slightly as Caroline's voice could be heard screeching, "When Miss Eliza returned from her walk today she smelled as if she had been cavorting with a barn-full of animals!" The footman's eyes shifted to see if Miss Elizabeth still wished to enter.

With a smile Elizabeth said, "Open the door, Sam." He opened the door without further hesitation, and she walked across the room to her seat. As another footman held her chair, she said, "As a matter of fact, Miss Bingley, I was."

"You were what, Miss Eliza?"

"Cavorting with barn animals, Miss Bingley. It seems that your staff was having trouble with Mr. Darcy's horse, and I was pleased to be of assistance to them."

Bingley laughed, "Even the finest of stables have trouble with Poseidon! He is the devil incarnate, I think! Darcy usually has to groom him himself whenever he is not at Pemberley, but I know my staff was hoping to succeed where all others have failed. You must have a death wish to offer to assist my staff with him, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth's eyes flashed, but she worked to calm herself. If it had been anybody other than Mr. Bingley to say such a thing, she would have been incensed, but as it was she answered civilly, "It just so happens that Poseidon is one of the gentlest creatures I have ever come across, Mr. Bingley."

Laughing, Mr. Hurst surprised Elizabeth by speaking. "Poseidon? Gentle? Are you certain we are speaking of the same horse?"

"Miss Elizabeth has a special relationship with Poseidon," William said simply, his eyes on the soup bowl which had just been placed before him.

Bingley's eyes brightened, and a slight smile pulled at his lips. Perhaps he would finally learn more about their shared past? "Do you really, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I have heard it mentioned, but honestly--I have never witnessed Poseidon act in any way other than spirited but gentle."

"How extraordinary! Well, Miss Elizabeth, I have. What exactly were you doing to help the stable hands?" Bingley said.

"I distracted him as they groomed him. I fed him carrots, stroked his neck and head, and spoke to him."

"He allowed you close enough to touch him? He ate from your hand without biting it off?" Mr. Hurst said with his eyes wide. Bingley's mouth was gaping open.

"Yes, but I do not understand your surprise, gentlemen! Poseidon has always allowed me to do so."

"Perhaps I can help you to understand, gentlemen. Poseidon behaves the same way with Miss Elizabeth as he does with me."

Mr. Hurst looked upon Elizabeth with a look of respect. "It seems one must speak of horses to catch his attention," Elizabeth thought.

Bingley's eyebrows rose almost up to his hairline. "Well! That is interesting! How long have you known Poseidon, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth flinched and hesitated, but then said quietly, "A little more than three years, sir."

"May I ask how many times have you seen him in that time?"

"Four times, Mr. Bingley."

"Only four times? And he behaves with you the same way as with a man that has known him his whole life, while wishing to maim everyone else? Amazing!" Mr. Hurst said.

"Four?" William asked.

Elizabeth colored, took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "I could not stand being indoors for one minute longer and sneaked out of the house. It seems Hanna applied to James to find me, and he did--at the stables. I did not do so again after Hanna and James threatened to tell Mrs. Reynolds if I went there again."

William laughed heartily, surprising everyone at the table. Elizabeth's breath caught when she saw his dimples and heard his deep laughter.

"How did you find your way out without your sojourn coming to Mrs. Reynolds's attention?" William asked.

Not looking away from William's gaze, the corners of Elizabeth's lips turned up slightly, and a hint of mischief twinkled in her eyes as she said, "I noticed an unexplained draft causing a candle in my room to flicker, and when I investigated, I found a hidden passageway in the wall. I followed it outdoors."

William smiled. "I should have guessed you would find the passageways."

"And just where was this, Miss Eliza?" Caroline asked.

Surprised that after Caroline had spoken so many times about staying at Pemberley that she did not at least recognize the housekeeper's name, Elizabeth hesitated--but then realized that Caroline Bingley gave so little attention to servants that she would probably not even recognize her own housekeeper if she saw her outside the house. "Pemberley, Miss Bingley."

"You have been to Pemberley? As what? A guest of one of the servants, perhaps? Why did you need to sneak out?"

Elizabeth's eyes flashed again, but this time she allowed her anger to take hold. "Miss…"

William interrupted--his face red with obvious rage, "Miss Bingley! I will have you know that Mr. Bennet and my father were the best of friends throughout childhood and into their adulthood. Miss Elizabeth was at Pemberley as an honored guest of my father and my sister. She stayed for more than two months, during which time she injured her ankle--an injury which was caused by over-exerting herself to save my life. The doctor had confined her to the house while her injury healed. Mrs. Reynolds was instructed by my father to make certain that both Miss Elizabeth and I strictly adhered to the doctor's orders."

His speech left everyone staring at William in shock, including Elizabeth.

"I did not save your life…" Elizabeth whispered.

William's tone was much softer when he interrupted again, "Yes, you did. More than once."

Elizabeth peered at him for a few moments longer, and then her attention was diverted by Miss Bingley's saying to William, "I apologize for making assumptions."

Elizabeth returned her gaze to her plate. Why had William defended her again? Why had he told everyone she saved his life when she had not? Did he really believe that she had?

After several minutes of silence, Bingley cleared his throat and began speaking of another subject. The remainder of dinner was much the same as the night before, except that the Bingley sisters ignored Elizabeth's presence completely--much to Elizabeth's satisfaction--and William was as silent as she was.

After seeing that Jane was as well as could be expected, Elizabeth felt that if she did not join the others in the drawing room it would be understood somehow as admitting she was weak, especially after being ignored at dinner, and so she did join them.

When she entered, Bingley and Mr. Hurst were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was alternating between amusing herself with her jewelry and observing the game. William was attempting to write a letter while Caroline hovered nearby making so many comments about his superior letter-writing skills that Elizabeth wondered how he was able to concentrate well enough to write anything at all. Elizabeth sat down to begin her book, but could not avoid hearing their conversation.

When the person to whom the letter had been addressed was mentioned, Elizabeth stiffened. She wondered what William was telling Georgiana about her. Perhaps he did not feel her worth mentioning at all. Caroline finally ceased her ranting, and Elizabeth attempted not to think of Georgiana by distracting herself with her reading, but found that, for the first time in her life, she could not remember one word from any of the pages she had turned.

"Miss Elizabeth? Are you well?" Bingley's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Yes, Mr. Bingley; I am well. Why do you ask, sir?"

"Your expression seemed so… forlorn."

"I am sorry, sir, I am not very good company this evening. Perhaps I should retire."

"I do hope you are not becoming ill as well!" Bingley said.

"No, no, Mr. Bingley; do not concern yourself, sir. I promise that I am not ill--only a little tired."

While taking her leave, Elizabeth saw such concern in William's eyes that she almost began to say something directly to him in order to quiet his anxiety. But no, that was silly! Of course he must be thinking of something else; that expression could not be for her!

After seeing that Jane's fever was almost gone, she retreated to her own room to change. Elizabeth could no longer delay thinking of William's reactions when Caroline had insulted her and when Bingley had voiced his fears that she was ill. It was hours before she finally fell asleep.