Rating: PG

Summary: A troubled Darcy finally decides to ask Elizabeth to marry him, but before he can do so, he overhears her telling Charlotte that she believes him to be a disagreeable and ungentleman-like man.

Author's Note: This little piece of fluff was inspired by Jane's fateful words, "We must not make him desperate."  Our saga begins with Darcy at Rosings, Lizzy at Hunsford, and Fortune in a tricky frame of mind... What will the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune bring?

Chapter One - An Unwilling Listener

Darcy strode through the grove, hardly noticing where he was going. His thoughts were full of a certain young lady, who was currently staying with her odious cousin and his new wife. He had thought to leave her behind in Hertfordshire, only to find that the memory of her was with him wherever he went; and now, against every expectation, she was at Hunsford. Every visit he had paid to the parsonage had only increased his pain; every time he saw her at Rosings, he was tempted to mentally change the setting to Pemberley. For long he had railed against Fate, that he should find himself so overwhelmed by a young woman of dubious connections and no fortune. What a cruel irony, that he, who had rebuffed so many pursuers of wealth, would now find himself helplessly drawn in a pursuit of his own - moreover, a pursuit that could not be justified by any of the motives that should inspire a gentleman of means and breeding. His regard for her was entirely selfish, and no thought of duty to family, position or society could quench it. He could no longer resist her. In his mind her expressive dark eyes found his and the spark in them was almost an invitation. She would not refuse him; he was rich, handsome and a man of sense - and she was a woman of great intelligence, despite her unfortunate relations. Perhaps she would be surprised - but she would certainly not refuse him. He felt a nervousness, an excitement and a delicious whirl of feelings. Resolution filled his heart, and he sat down, resting his back against the solid trunk of a large tree, to meditate on his happy future and the unhappy realities that must accompany his choice.

His reverie was interrupted by the sound of voices approaching; two women, talking together quietly. To his consternation he realised that one of the ladies was Miss Elizabeth Bennet; her clear laugh rang out unmistakably. He risked a peek around the great tree which sheltered him from their notice; her companion was her friend Mrs. Collins, formerly of Hertfordshire, and now the wife of one of the stupidest men of Darcy's unwilling acquaintance. Darcy wavered uncertainly; should he make his presence known? No, it was too awkward: perhaps better to wait until they had walked on, then come upon them in a more obvious manner. Or perhaps better still to sit quietly and avoid their notice altogether. To Darcy's alarm they drew near, and stopped for a moment near his tree. If they discovered him, what would they think? He could only hold still and pray they would continue their walk directly; but for the present he could not avoid overhearing their conversation.

"No, Charlotte," Elizabeth was saying. "She is quite devastated. She does not say so, of course, for Jane never complains of her own difficulties; but I know her too well to imagine otherwise. I have never seen her so down at heart. It is quite worrisome."

Mrs. Collins' soothing voice replied, "But what of Mr. Bingley? Has nothing been heard?"

"Mr. Bingley!" Elizabeth's tone was angry. "I am beginning to think him one of those shallow-minded, self-centred rich men who flit about breaking hearts for their own amusement! But perhaps I am being unfair. Perhaps he is just weak of character, and Miss Bingley was able to prevail on him to such a degree that poor Jane is all forgot." She sighed. There was silence for a moment, then she added, "But my ill feelings will pass away, I am sure, and much sooner than Jane's heartbreak. There is still the hope that she will bump into him in town - a very slight hope!" Her tone had lightened with this last pronouncement, though her humour was plainly sarcastic. The young ladies were silent a moment, and Darcy wished he could see their faces - or more particularly, Elizabeth's face.

"But what of you, Lizzy?" Mrs. Collins spoke, diverting the subject. "Mr. Darcy has seemed very attentive to you in his visits. He did not stop looking at you the whole time they were there, yesterday."

Darcy felt himself redden, and half-wished he could block his ears - yet he held his breath so that he would not miss a word of Miss Bennet's reply.

"Oh no, Charlotte," laughed Elizabeth. "I'm sure you are mistaken. I know Mr. Darcy dislikes me as much as I do him. When he stares at me it is only to signal his disapproval at my impertinent manners."

"Are you certain? I had not thought his gaze to be censorious," Mrs. Collins replied.

"Charlotte, you do not know Mr. Darcy. He finds me most disagreeable company, and is always rude and ill-mannered as far as I have seen. Perhaps I speak my opinions too freely for his taste - but I have never thought a man worthy of deference simply because he has a large fortune and a grand estate!" Miss Bennet announced this last with considerable feeling and humour.

Mrs. Collins laughed. "I can well believe it of you, but I hope you have not told him so, Lizzy! Though if you said you had I should not be too surprised."

"No, no," Elizabeth smiled. "Do you think me so uncivil? No, I will keep my opinion to myself; and in any case I should not like to offend his friends simply because he and I cannot get along."

"Well, I think you are too harsh on him," said Mrs. Collins. "You do not make allowances for differences of upbringing and status."

Their voices were moving away, but Darcy was still able to hear Elizabeth's rejoinder to this: "Ha! If he thinks he can behave in an ungentlemanlike fashion simply because he is rich, then the more fool him. He may win the approval of those who consider consequence to be sufficient excuse for any behaviour he fancies - but he will certainly not win mine!"

Darcy's face was white with shock. He was glad that he was sitting, for he knew with certainty that any attempt to stand would surely fail. Her words were still echoing in his ears: ill-mannered; rude; ungentlemanlike! He rubbed his face, mortified at what he had heard. Surely she had not been serious; but why should she dissemble to her close friend? No, it must be true. Elizabeth Bennet disliked him completely and had not the smallest good opinion of him. He felt a pain in his chest at the thought. The beginnings of anger stirred in him, and a frown crossed his features. That she, an upstart and opinionated young lady of little breeding and no fortune should presume to judge him... But in the next moment his conscience interrupted. If he had seen fit to lower himself, to warn her or even her acquaintance of Wickham's deceptive character and poisonous tongue - but not even that would wholly absolve him. Ill-mannered, rude, ungentlemanlike; such terms could not only be due to Wickham's accusations. He must face the fact that his own behaviour had alienated the bewitching Miss Bennet. She had a lively intelligence and an observant, inquisitive turn of mind; if she called him so, then she had seen him as so. And now what was he to do?

Chapter Two - A Resolve

Darcy remained sitting where he was for some time. Indeed he felt unable to move, so deep was his shock and despondency. Only a short time ago he had been positively considering the most unwise notion of marrying Miss Bennet; the idea of losing her before he had even won her was inconceivable. He could not credit it; but at last his innate honesty prevailed, and he told himself he must accept the reality of her hatred. When he heard the ladies returning along the path he made no noise. Their speech could be heard increasingly as they neared, but nothing more did he hear of himself - they spoke of their families and common acquaintance until they had passed him by, and he could hear no more. Once certain they were gone he let out a deep sigh. He continued to sit, wrestling with his conflicting emotions, but it was some length of time before his inner turmoil would bow to his control and he was able to force himself to his feet. He must return to Rosings, face his aunt and cousins as if nothing untoward had happened... Resolutely he placed one foot in front of the other and began to walk out of the grove. On only one thing had he been able to decide: he must not presume to take Miss Elizabeth Bennet for granted anymore.

He had not gone far before the sound of running feet met his ears, and around a corner came none other than the lady herself, jogging easily up the path. He stopped dead, as did she; and a blush of embarrassment spread over both their faces.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Darcy!"

"Miss Bennet," he said stiffly, and bowed. He hoped his alarm and confusion was not evident - his instinct for politeness must serve him now.

"I am very sorry, sir. I was just, er, in a hurry to rescue a letter I inadvertently left upon a stump earlier, a little farther along down the hill," she said, obviously discomfited. "I hope you are not too scandalised at my lack of decorum. I assure you I meant no disrespect." This last was spoken with the hint of a smile, and her eyes held a glint as she glanced up at him.

"Not at all," Darcy managed to say, though he was finding it difficult to gather his thoughts. "Please do not make yourself uneasy. The solitude of this grove makes one feel...quite relaxed."

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed, smiling, though still a little shamefaced. "You are very gracious, sir."

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, before Elizabeth ventured, "Well, if you will excuse me, Mr. Darcy, I had best continue on my mission before the wind steals my letter away completely. My sister would never forgive me such neglect of her efforts, for I have not even finished reading it."

"Of course," said Darcy, moving aside so she could walk past. Somewhat self-consciously, she did so; but he called out to her before she had gotten far, having formed a desperate resolution.

"Miss Bennet."

She turned, a little warily. "Yes, Mr. Darcy?"

"I...would you allow me the honour of accompanying you?" He seemed diffident and uncertain.

"Certainly, if you wish," she answered. A thought seemed to strike her, and she smiled, eyebrows raised. "A gentleman may come in handy if the letter has blown into the stream, or into some other awkward place from whence a lady should not attempt a retrieval."

This coaxed a small smile to Mr. Darcy's mouth. "It is well we met, then, Miss Bennet; I shall be in the happy position of safeguarding your honour at the expense of my own."

"Let us hope not, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied, amused.

They walked on together, mostly in silence, until they neared that part of the woods where Elizabeth and Charlotte had stopped briefly before turning for home. Darcy spent the time trying to maintain his composure, to gather himself. Here was a chance to show her what he had not deigned to let her see before - a chance to begin to undo that terrible mistake.

"Here it is," said Elizabeth. "I left the letter just over...Oh no!"

"Is it gone?"

"Yes!" Elizabeth was plainly annoyed with herself. "Here is where I set it down..." She gestured to a tall stump, then moved to begin searching around it. "Surely it cannot have gone far."

Darcy could see no sign of the letter in the immediate vicinity, so he raised a finger to test the breeze. It was blowing quite strongly, and its direction was fairly constant.

"I fear we must search toward the stream, Miss Bennet," he said, turning to her with a wry smile. "Fortune is playing tricks today."

She rolled her eyes at herself and sighed. "I might have known it. Why was I so absent-minded?" She moved away to continue her search. He watched her for a moment, then went to assist.

Chapter Three - The Adventures of a Letter

The letter was not found easily, and the two hunted high and low as they approached the verdant undergrowth and muddy ground near the streambed. At length Elizabeth gave a cry, and laughed.

"Here it is! Under this bush. But oh, how inconveniently it has placed itself."

Darcy crouched to see where she pointed; the letter was embedded squarely in the middle of the offending plant. It could only be reached by crawling under the overhang created by the thick foliage, and to do so would mean a fight with twigs and branches, and also mud.

"Well, there is no help for it," Darcy announced. "Perhaps we could retrieve it with a stick...but no, the branches are too thick. I will crawl in."

"No, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth firmly from her position next to him. "There is not enough room, you are far too big. Your clothing would end up in a frightful state - and what would your aunt say then?"

Darcy drew back to object, but before he could speak Elizabeth flashed him a look, and saying, "Disregard what you see, sir, for I am about to do something most unladylike!" she plunged forward into the undergrowth. She negotiated the awkward twists with agility, though once she got her bonnet caught and had to untie it to free it - but the letter was soon within her grasp, and out she came.

"There. As long as you ignore the state of my skirts, we could almost imagine that nothing had gone wrong at all."

Indeed she had dirtied her hands and knees beyond any powers of discounting; but Darcy, with a smile, assured her that he could see nothing. Elizabeth replaced her bonnet, covering her no longer immaculate hairstyle, and offered warm thanks to her companion for his chivalrous support, and apologies for any inconvenience.

"Think nothing of it," he replied. "But Miss Bennet: are you sure you have the entirety of your letter safe?" For he had noticed that she held only one sheet of paper, yet the writing continued without cease to the bottom, with no evident ending.

"Oh," she said in dismay, after inspecting what she held more closely. "You are right - I had thought both sheets were still together. Wretched wind!" She looked at Darcy apologetically. "I am very sorry, sir. You must have quite lost patience with me by now. Please do not feel any obligation to continue, for you have been most helpful already, and I am sure you are wishing to return to Rosings."

"Not at all, I assure you," he declared with a twinkle in his eye. "This has been the most diverting excursion I have had the pleasure of experiencing in a long time. I am enjoying myself most heartily."

To his surprise, he felt the honesty of this statement most intensely. Such was her power over him that, even knowing her aversion to his company, he could not but feel happy in hers.

"Very well," she acknowledged, though her glance showed wry puzzlement. "If you are determined, I must express my gratitude - and we shall continue."

They searched nearby to no avail, and were forced to carry on to the edge of the brook, where Elizabeth peered anxiously about. "It would be just my luck that it has blown into the water, and is gone."

"No, I think I see it," said Darcy with a small smile. "You will not believe where it has roosted."

She followed his gaze, and had to laugh. "No! I begin to believe there is some devilry behind all this, for it is too much for mere coincidence."

He could not disagree. A dead tree had fallen partly over the stream's bed, and the letter had lodged in its far branches, flapping gently but enticingly over the water.

"Here you must defer to me, Miss Bennet, for I believe my arms are rather longer than yours," said Darcy.

"Mr. Darcy, you must not believe I was serious when I challenged you before," Elizabeth retorted. "There is no need for you to assist, truly. Your arms may be longer, but you are also heavier. The tree might collapse as you lean on it, and then you would fall in, and I should feel dreadful! At least if I try it and fall in, I will be cleaner coming out than going in."

"That may be so, Miss Bennet, but I remain adamant. I will be the one to perform the rescue this time. My chances of success are far higher than yours in this case, and any argument to the contrary can have no basis in logic and will be ignored."

"As you wish, sir," said Elizabeth, acceding to this speech with a sardonic smile. Darcy moved to inspect the fallen trunk; after a moment, he turned to face Elizabeth and began removing his coat.

"If you would be so good as to hold this for me..."

"Of course," she said, taking the coat from his hands. She watched a little anxiously as he leaned out over the water, using one hand to brace himself on a branch while the other stretched out to grasp the strayed letter. It soon became clear he could not quite reach, and that any more of his weight on the fallen tree would be risky in the extreme.

"Wait, I have an idea," Elizabeth offered, untying her bonnet once more. "Perhaps you could use this to catch the paper - it will give you slightly more reach."

He eased back to his feet and smiled at her. "Not just a pretty face," he teased.

She coloured slightly, confused by his easy manner and the warmth of his gaze. He seemed somehow different today, and Elizabeth was at a loss to account for the change. Clearing her throat, she forced her eyes to meet his as she passed him the bonnet. "Here is your weapon, sir knight," she teased him in turn. His fingers brushed against hers as he took it, and she felt her heart skip a beat. She hastily dropped her gaze, but he had already turned away.

Once more he strained out over the stream, this time nudging the letter carefully with the bonnet. With only a little coaxing it slid inside, safely captured as he closed the bonnet around it. "Aha!" Darcy was triumphant. Too soon he relaxed; for as he tried to push himself fully upright, a slip caused his balance to shift awkwardly and he suddenly found himself falling backward, with no way of avoiding a dunking.

With great presence of mind Elizabeth immediately dropped his coat in the mud, reached out, and grabbed his arm with both her hands, pulling him hard toward her. The added leverage enabled him to fall forward instead of back, and they tumbled together onto the bank. Darcy instantly disentangled himself and began apologising, for he had not only crushed the lady's bonnet in his landing but nearly herself.

"You are not hurt, I hope?" he enquired earnestly. She sat up but made no reply, so he came closer. "Miss Bennet? Are you all right?"

To his consternation he noticed she was shaking slightly, and had covered her face with her hands.

"Miss Bennet!" Now Darcy was worried - until he saw her dark eyes shining at him. She could contain herself no longer, and burst out laughing.

"I am so sorry," she managed to say after a moment, struggling to maintain her composure. "It was only...the look on your face!" And she started laughing again, pressing a hand to her mouth and trying to control her breathing in an attempt to stop. He sat down beside her, a mixture of feelings whirling within him.

"Oh," she finally breathed, at peace. "I hope I have not offended you too deeply, sir. You were most gallant, and I truly do appreciate your help. I did not mean to be so abominably rude."

Darcy could not restrain a smile himself. Now they were both muddy and grass-stained; strangely, the thought of the imprudence of the whole situation had little weight in his mind. His heart felt light, though his mind was berating his foolishness - for he and Miss Bennet were sharing a smile, and though it might be rueful it was the first time they had ever done so.

"You are never rude, Miss Bennet," he said warmly. His eyes were watching her with an interest she could not mistake, though she could not explain it in the least. Could it be that Charlotte had seen more truly than she?

"Come, Mr. Darcy, now you carry chivalry too far," she insisted, keeping her tone light and looking away. She felt disconcerted, and quite unable to predict him. "I am rude on a regular basis, and impertinent, and outspoken."

This made him smile again. "If you are, I cannot say I ever noticed it. Perhaps I am thick-headed and unobservant; or perhaps you exaggerate. Or maybe it is a little of both."

She was quite taken aback by this reply, so unexpected was its content. A silence fell; he looked away, and rose to his feet, extending a hand to assist her to hers. She accepted his aid, but would not meet his eye - and did she imagine it, or was he reluctant to relinquish her hand once they both stood? To banish her awkwardness, she stepped back slightly, then bent to collect his coat from the ground where it had fallen.

"Your coat, sir. I fear it is a little the worse for wear."

"As is your bonnet," Darcy observed dryly, handing it to her along with the precious letter. "But I must extend my heartfelt thanks, Miss Bennet. But for your speedy assistance I would be considerably worse off."

"Oh, nonsense," she objected. "Were it not for me, you would be home with your relatives taking your ease at this very moment. Now you are dirty and dishevelled, and look like you have been indulging in something disreputable."

"I hope you will not hold it against me," he replied, holding her gaze. He felt a strong urge to pour out his heart to her, but knew that to do so would be the height of stupidity. She was at present confused by his manner, that much was clear; but he had no doubt of her refusal, should he give voice to the question that pressed so insistently at him.

She gave him a diffident smile, folding the muddy pieces of her letter together. "It would be most ungenerous of me indeed, were I to do so, sir."

He regarded her silently for a moment, then said, "There is one small favour you could do me, Miss Bennet."

"You have only to ask, sir. I believe I am quite in your debt."

A smile twitched at the corners of Darcy's mouth. "Then would you tell me which to be more advisable, as you can see more than I: should I put my coat back on, or not?"

"Oh!" she laughed, colouring slightly. "Let me see your back - hmmm, I think the coat should definitely go on. And I wish I had one, too - just look at the state I am in! Not since..."

He waited for her to continue, but she did not. She blushed, and would look only at the ground.

"Please go on, Miss Bennet," said Darcy quietly, putting on his coat.

"No, no. You would not be interested, and I do not wish to damage what little approbation I possess in your eyes."

"If you will tell me, I will show you a path back to the Parsonage that avoids public notice, and no one need know a thing."

She glanced up at him archly. "You are very sly, Mr. Darcy. I had not suspected you to possess such artifice."

"The path splits from this one along this way; shall we?" he said, offering her his arm. She took it lightly, and they began walking at an easy pace. When it became obvious that he would not press her to reveal what she had been about to say, she sighed.

"My conscience is nibbling at me now. I will tell you if you promise not to scoff at me, or stare at me disapprovingly."

"I will not even look at you," Darcy assured her, mentally vowing to be more careful when he stared at her in the future.

"Very well," she said, with an embarrassed smile. "I was only going to observe that I have not been in such a mess since I was fifteen years old, when I fell out of a tree into a mud puddle."

"Fifteen!" Darcy could not hold his exclamation back. She could see that she had shocked him, and hastened to explain.

"Please do not think that such scrapes were common, Mr. Darcy. Maybe they were when I was younger," she allowed playfully, glancing over at him, "But I was a proper young lady from the age of twelve...or was it thirteen."

"You are teasing me, Miss Bennet." Darcy felt quite breathless at the conflicting emotions twisting at his breast. "Did you really climb a tree at such an age?" He would be horrified to imagine Georgiana doing such a thing.

"Yes," she confessed with a smile. "But I had good reason. Jane's cat was stuck, and it was starting to storm, and no one else was there who could help."

He laughed at her, and shook his head, and they continued their walk. After a moment he enquired:

"And what of the cat?"

"The cat?"

"Yes, your sister's cat. Was it a successful rescue?"

"Very successful, thank you. He had only muddy feet - I was not so lucky." She laughed, waiting for Darcy's disapproving look, but it did not come. Instead he looked thoughtful, and fell quiet; but the silence was not uncomfortable.

They continued, taking a narrow inconspicuous path that wended its way to the lane that bordered Rosings. What conversation they had was light and easy, and the walk was pleasant for both. They were obliged to cross the lane but not follow it, for the path continued on the other side, coming out near the rear of the parsonage gardens. Elizabeth could not have asked for a more convenient route, all things considered. Darcy said his farewells before they were within sight of the house, and she thanked him warmly once again for his most welcome help, and repeated her apology for her unseemly behaviour and the consequences of it.

"Pray do not mention it, Miss Bennet. I believe I have already told you how much I enjoyed myself. It is I who should be thanking you."

"You are too generous, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said warmly, hardly able to credit that she could make such an assertion and mean it. They looked at each other; and suddenly Darcy reached out and took her hand, and raised it to his lips.

"Farewell, Miss Bennet," he said. He seemed abruptly ill at ease, and she thought she saw a blush as he turned to leave.

Chapter Four - Reflections

Charlotte met her inside, though thankfully she managed to escape Maria's notice - or worse, Mr. Collins'. He would have been scandalised indeed to see his cousin in such a condition, though Charlotte merely laughed at the sight. "You look dreadful, Lizzy! That letter must have had quite the adventure."

"Indeed it did," Elizabeth answered, laughing with her. "You would not believe the awful luck. One sheet had gone into a bush which was growing in a mire, and the other was almost in the brook! But I have it now, and all is well - except that I am in dire need of a bath and a change of clothing."

"That you shall have," Charlotte smiled. "Upstairs with you quick, before anyone sees you."

Elizabeth made no mention of Mr. Darcy's role in the letter's adventures. Alone in her room for a short time, she let her muddled thoughts roam free. Her mind was full of confusion enough, without Charlotte entertaining suspicions that Elizabeth could not now refute. The Darcy she had just left seemed a different man almost; still reserved and a little uneasy in expression, but with flashes of dry humour and a relaxed air she had never seen before. Had she imagined his eagerness to please her? She recalled the touch of his fingers on hers, the feel of his arm beneath her hand as they walked, the brush of his lips on the back of her hand; she blushed just remembering these things, and knew that if it were only down to his physical presence she could easily imagine herself lost. In truth he was a very handsome man - but his character left much to be desired. Wickham's tales of injustice combined with her own observance of his rude and arrogant manners could brook no option but condemnation. Why, then, had she enjoyed his company so much this morning? Why had she even spoken to him, let alone behaved so freely and impertinently with him? What had made him so agreeable, and why did she feel she could trust this affability? She remembered the little challenges she had constantly thrown him that morning, and her continuous surprise when, not once, did he fail to be generous and amiable. He had been every inch the gentleman in the face of her inappropriate behaviour. She was vexed with herself, and vexed with him, and could make no sense of any of it; and when Mary, the housemaid, arrived with news that her bath awaited her, she was exceedingly glad of the distraction.

Darcy was likewise preoccupied on his return to Rosings. Fitzwilliam caught him in the foyer before he could flee upstairs, and hazed him over his appearance most cheerfully. Darcy was forced to pretend that he had slipped and fallen while walking near the waterside, a most uncharacteristic occurrence that roused Lady Catherine's concern and displeasure. She was saying so to Fitzwilliam with some energy, having noticed the state of Darcy's jacket and trousers. Fitzwilliam, whose sharp eyes had not failed to detect the state of his shirt and waistcoat as well, said nothing that would inflame their aunt further. Instead, to Darcy's relief, he insisted that his cousin change immediately and take a hot bath, to prevent any illness that might result.

With a grateful glance at Fitzwilliam, Darcy made his escape; but left alone with his thoughts, he was not sure he was any better off. Elizabeth Bennet filled his head and his heart. She was difficult, unruly, imprudent and impulsive. She had a regard for propriety that seemed to fade if tested - but, no, that was not fair. She simply valued some things more than she did decorum, and he could not fault her completely on it, for in every instance it was unselfish love for another that had prompted any impropriety. The story of Jane's cat came back to him, and he smiled, remembering a time not so long ago when she had walked three miles over muddy roads and fields for that same sister. He wished, with a pang, to be loved that well by another. He wished he had the bravery, the depth of affection, to disregard the rules of society for the sake of a loved one. She had little regard for the good opinion of others, it seemed, and much confidence in her own judgement. He had to own that this judgement was, in general, sound - indeed, that her views were well-informed and her intelligence at least equal to his own. In what fashion Wickham had prevailed on her, Darcy did not like to think. A frown creased his brows at the notion; unwilling to pursue the matter further, he returned to his contemplation of Miss Bennet's charms, recalling to mind her smile, the embarrassed look on her face when they stood close together by the stream, the glint of mischief in her eyes before she crawled under the foliage to hunt out her sister's letter. She had been attempting to provoke him, he was sure, and he reflected with pleasure on the fact that he had not given in to the temptation to withdraw, to retreat behind his wall as usual. He sent up a silent prayer, that perhaps he had been able to influence her ill opinion of him, however slightly.

His mind was lost in pleasant reverie when without volition he found himself recollecting the earlier, more distressing scene in which he had inadvertently overheard Miss Bennet and Mrs. Collins. He gave a sigh, and realised that he would have to find the courage to speak to her about certain uncomfortable matters. She blamed Bingley for Jane's unhappiness, which fact he needed to rectify; and he had to warn her of Wickham's character, before history repeated itself. He knew he stood little chance of soliciting her sympathy towards himself in so doing, but his conscience demanded fairness. If she was right about her sister's affections - and who should know better? - then an apology was clearly owed, and what restitution lay within his power should be undertaken. As for Wickham, the truth would upset her, but it must be laid open. He must convince her of it, even if it came to revelations of the most painful kind. Perhaps Miss Bennet would be lost to him - perhaps she was already so - but he could not live with himself if he did not tell her the truth.

Chapter Five - An Uneasy Day

The next day dawned bright and clear. Elizabeth awoke, still disturbed over Mr. Darcy. She could not account for his apparent change of heart, and it bothered her. It intimated that she had been mistaken - either yesterday, or in Hertfordshire. She had fallen asleep last night mulling over their previous encounters, and was disturbed to find that in some cases she had not kept an open mind. She had taken offense on their first meeting at the Meryton Assembly, and to her shame she had to admit it had coloured most of her observations of him since. Granted, she had Wickham's account to bolster her opinion, and she never would have doubted it but for yesterday. Darcy had not been trying to convince her of anything, yesterday. His manner had seemed, at times, a little reticent - but not arrogant or prideful. Why should he now alter completely, without explaining himself? It had seemed as though he was humbling himself, but asking nothing of her. The only answer that came to mind was one that she was most uncomfortable with, and did not like to think of.

Mrs. Collins noticed that Elizabeth seemed considerably distracted at breakfast, and of small appetite. "Are you feeling well, Elizabeth?" she inquired quietly, while Mr. Collins was absorbed in instructing Maria about the proper way to arrange a bookshelf.

"Yes," said Elizabeth quickly, unwilling to face further interrogation. "I am well, it is just...I feel a little strange. Perhaps I am coming down with a cold."

"I hope not, Lizzy," Charlotte replied. "Then you would have to stay away from Rosings." She shot Elizabeth a look, which Elizabeth returned.

"Do not worry yourself, Charlotte. I am sure whatever it is shall pass."

"Perhaps you should stay inside today, and do a bit of quiet reading. Did you hear, my dear?" she said, raising her voice for the last sentence.

"What was that you said, dearest?" said Mr. Collins, with a smile which unfortunately exposed his last mouthful of sausage.

"I said, Elizabeth fears she might be coming down with a cold."

"Oh!" said the astonished clergyman, all concern. "A cold! That would never do, to pass a cold around. I shall go to Rosings directly, dear Cousin, and apply to see Her Ladyship; for she is most knowledgeable indeed where it comes to the prevention of disease and ailments. I am sure that she will be able to inform us of the best way to proceed."

"That is a very generous offer, Mr. Collins," said Elizabeth sincerely, trying mightily to keep her face straight. "You are very kind."

"In the meantime," put in Charlotte, "I think it would be best if Elizabeth finds a quiet spot and does nothing strenuous. Do you not agree, my dear?"

"Indeed I do!" agreed he. "You must not subject yourself to effort or aggravation if you are coming down with something. Rest assured, fair Cousin, that we shall leave you in peace today. Except, of course, if I have any news of import upon my return from Rosings."

His tone was so obsequious that Elizabeth was constantly amazed that he could maintain the authenticity of it - yet his energy in this regard seemed boundless. At least, for Charlotte's sake, he is easy to manipulate, she thought to herself grimly.

Elizabeth passed the rest of the day very peacefully. She went for a gentle ramble in Mr. Collin's gardens, and sat quietly and read a book - or at least stared at a book, for not many pages got turned. Again and again her mind returned to the mystery of Mr. Darcy. It was as though a puzzle previously thought solved had turned out to have another piece, and indeed a whole other side, unlooked for. She did not like the implications of such ruminations at all. In the afternoon, she challenged Charlotte to a game of chess, which proved a pleasant distraction; but as evening drew on, Mr. Darcy once again appeared to plague her. She did not sleep well, and awoke very early indeed.

Chapter Six - Encounter

Elizabeth sprang out of her bed, determined to find respite in activity. It was too early for breakfast, but it was the perfect time for a walk. She dressed hurriedly and arranged her hair with little attention, and seizing a fresh bonnet all but ran down the stairs. In the vestibule she encountered Mary, who was cleaning.

"Morning, Miss," smiled Mary, who liked Mrs. Collins' friend very well.

"A fine morning," Elizabeth agreed cheerfully. "You are most industrious, Mary, to be cleaning windows at this hour."

"Best to get a head start, ma'am, for you never know who will visit."

Elizabeth met Mary's eyes and smiled. "Indeed, you are right. It would never do to disgrace the family before guests of importance. I hope Mr. and Mrs. Collins appreciate your thoughtfulness."

"Mrs. Collins is most agreeable, ma'am," said Mary, ducking her head. "Are you going out, Miss?"

"Oh, yes," said Elizabeth. "I feel a great desire to stretch my legs, and it is such beautiful weather I could not stay indoors another second. Please tell your mistress I shall be back later this morning."

So saying, she exited the Parsonage, and taking the private path that Darcy had shown her two days ago, made her solitary way to the charming woods bordering Rosings Park.

Darcy was pacing. He had spent much of yesterday in the pleasant clearing where Miss Bennet had lost her letter the day before, trying to come to terms with his changed situation; now he was back again, attempting to order his thoughts. At this hour he was certain of privacy, so he made no effort to hide his anguish as he strode back and forth. It was no easy thing to marshall the resources needed for what would undoubtedly be a disagreeable interview. He could think of no way to paint himself as irreproachable in the case of Bingley and Jane Bennet, and though he considered his conduct largely blameless, he was not at all certain that Elizabeth would agree with his assessment. And Wickham... there was no straightforward solution to this, either. She would be upset, and he would be upset. Not for the first time he cursed the name of his father's favourite, then cursed his own for allowing such a man to roam where he pleased, his reputation unsullied. He realised he had done so out loud and was about to thank providence that he was alone, when he heard a twig snap. He looked up with a start - straight into the shocked eyes of Elizabeth Bennet. She dropped her gaze instantly, and turned to walk off; stunned, he stood paralysed for a moment, then recollected himself.

"Miss Bennet!" He called after her, desperate to explain. He strode in pursuit, his long legs eating up the ground. "Miss Bennet, please."

Decency forced her to a stop. "Mr. Darcy," she acknowledged him almost coldly, and would not look at him. "Forgive me, I did not mean to disturb you."

"I must apologise, Miss Bennet, if you heard what I said in my - agitation. To own the truth, I was attempting to prepare myself for an encounter which I had anticipated a little later in the day." His tone was all humility, and though she had been upset to hear what she thought was his old arrogance back again, her curiousity got the better of her.

He could see she was listening, so he continued. "I am still not really prepared for it, but it would seem now is as good a time as any. Miss Bennet, if I may impose on your good wishes for a short time, I need to speak with you most urgently concerning matters of - mutual interest."

Elizabeth looked at him, but said nothing.

He reddened slightly. "In truth, I must be serious and beg you not to repeat what I am about to tell you to anyone."

"Of course, Mr. Darcy," she said, her tone a little gentler.

He gave her a bow, which did nothing to conceal his relief and gratitude. "Thank you, Miss Bennet. Perhaps we should sit..." He gestured to a fallen log, near the stump where Elizabeth had laid her letter the day before. They walked over, and Elizabeth seated herself, looking up at him expectantly. He sat down, but was clearly uncomfortable; it was not long before he sprang up again, and began his pacing anew.

At length, he seemed to master himself, and began to speak. "I have some things I find I must relate to you, Miss Bennet: three things, to be exact. If you would be so good as to hear me out even if you are upset with me, I would be exceedingly grateful." He lowered his gaze; Elizabeth could only watch him in puzzlement.

"The first matter of which I will speak will make you angry," he said quietly. "The second will distress you; the third may amuse you. Perhaps the third will lessen the blow of the other two, I know not."

Elizabeth was now burning to hear what he could have to say. "Please, Mr. Darcy. You may be assured of my attention."

"Very well," said he, and taking a deep breath, he began. "It was I, Miss Bennet, who prevailed upon my friend Bingley to relinquish his pursuit of your sister Jane."

Chapter Seven - Anger

Elizabeth could only stare at him, open-mouthed. He could see anger and distrust in her eyes, so he plunged on. "You must not blame Bingley for his behaviour. In his defense, let me say that he is a most modest fellow, and gives great weight to the opinions of those whom he trusts. Greater weight than to his own desires. It took no fantastic leaps on my part to convince him of your sister's indifference to him, for he truly has little confidence in his own merits. In my own defense, I can say only that I believed, on impartial conviction, that your sister did not care deeply for my friend. What I observed of her reactions, her countenance when they were together, led me to believe that her heart would not be easily touched."

Elizabeth could sit still no longer. She surged to her feet in indignation. "Impartial conviction! You cannot tell me that anything would have led you to approve of my sister as a match for your friend. Do not speak to me of your impartial conviction, sir. Anyone could see from your arrogant manner that you thought my family and our entire acquaintance beneath your dignity and not worth your approbation - and that was even before you had a chance to witness any improprieties that might have given justice to your objections!"

Darcy paled; he had to admit she might be right. "Forgive me, madam. I knew you would be angry. But consider the behaviour of your younger sisters, even your mother! I confess I could not rejoice in thinking Bingley to be attached to such a family. Hate me for that if you choose."

"Mr. Darcy, I am not proud of my family's behaviour. But neither am I so small-minded or ungenerous as to think that such connections could be of any concern to those not directly involved. If Mr. Bingley was willing to tolerate them, it should not have been any concern of yours." This last was said coldly.

She folded her arms and turned away from him, her back stiff with emotion.

"There is worse to tell," Darcy continued, in a low voice. "I also did not tell Bingley that your sister has been in town these last months - though I knew of it weeks ago. I concealed it from him, I am ashamed to say."

"Why are you telling me this, Mr. Darcy?" said Elizabeth in amazement. "Have you so great a desire to cause distress wherever you go? For I cannot think of any other possible motive."

Darcy hung his head, his face abashed, his posture uneasy. "I am telling you this, because I wish to apologise. Lately I have come to realise how mistaken I was in many things. I wish to beg forgiveness, and be allowed to make reparation."

Elizabeth did not know what to say. Her anger had not left her, but it was now mingled with complete astonishment and a measure of disbelief. "Am I to understand that you have changed your mind?" she said, her tone tinged with sarcasm. "What will you do now, go and talk Bingley back into his affection?"

"His affection has never left him," he said simply, lifting his head. "I will confess my interference, and remove the obstacle of my influence. I may lose his friendship, but he will be free to follow his heart."

"His heart is uncertain indeed, if it can be so easily altered," Elizabeth muttered, determined to be dissatisfied. Darcy judged it best to provoke her no further on this subject, and made no rejoinder. She walked about angrily for some moments, then returned to the log and sat down.

"I gave you my promise to hear you out, Mr. Darcy. I am now angry, as you predicted; let us see what tale you can distress me with, for the second part of the morning's entertainments."

Chapter Eight - Distress

Darcy now found that he had better sit, which he did, though not too near Miss Bennet. He was in no small amount of distress himself, and found it exceedingly difficult to begin the next part of his confession. The lady, though still seething, could not but be affected by the paleness of his face and the evident struggles he was undergoing. It did not remove her ire, but it tempered it somewhat, so that she was able to wait patiently for him to speak.

With a sigh, he began: "I do not wish to give you more pain, madam - but please believe that the pain I will give myself in speaking of this next matter will be no less than your own. I find I can no longer be silent and allow my pride to blind me to the consequences of my inaction. I must lay before you every particular of my connection with a gentleman whom I have no doubt you consider a friend - Mr. George Wickham."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed, not knowing what to expect, but keenly interested in the subject. As Darcy's halting account progressed, however, her eyes widened in shock and incredulity. His accusations as to Wickham's character were delivered in an almost emotionless manner, though it was clear that Mr. Darcy possessed very strong feelings on the subject. Elizabeth found his mode of expression utterly convincing, and realised, to her wonder, that his seeming detachment was in fact a self-protection. She could not help but think: And his haughtiness, and arrogance? Is that also a protection of sorts, to ward off awkward or unwanted encounters? She was ashamed to consider how little she knew this man, and how ill she had thought of him! Her mouth fell open in horror when Darcy reached the climax of his narrative; the report of Wickham's despicable actions and intentions towards the young Georgiana Darcy, then but fifteen.

Elizabeth could not speak: she wanted to melt into the ground, she was so ashamed of herself. To think, that her disdain of Mr. Darcy had been due largely to the stinging of her own pricked vanity, and the lies of a worthless blackguard and mercenary. She had wanted to believe Wickham, so she had. She had not thought to test any of his claims, to reserve her judgement or exercise her vaunted reason - oh no! - she had acted in the most willful and contemptible fashion imaginable. In that instant, she knew herself to be as full of folly as any of her family, and she wished that she were miles away so that her shame need not be witnessed. Tears of self-disgust and sympathy filled her eyes.

Her self-mortification was plain to see, and Darcy could not ignore it. He moved a little closer to her, and spoke earnestly. "Miss Bennet, do not distress yourself, I beg you. This man has been imposing on good people's ignorance and trust for most of his life, including my own father's. He is very good at disguise, and saying the perfect thing, and twisting the truth just enough to suit. I am to blame: had I not thought it beneath myself to expose him..."

Elizabeth took a deep breath, and interrupted him. "Mr. Darcy, you are wrong. How can you blame yourself for the actions of another? But give me leave to blame myself, for no one else can be held responsible for my own willful blindness and prejudice." Her hands were clenched in frustration; Darcy reached out and covered the nearer one with his own. The warmth of his touch took her by surprise, and she looked over at him as a tear spilled down her cheek. Angrily she brushed it away, and said:

"Well, now I am upset. You were right in that as well. Pray bring on the amusing part as quickly as may be."

"I must beg your forgiveness, Miss Bennet. Truly, I do not mean to give you such grief." He was watching her gravely, and his hand pressed hers with gentle insistence.

"No, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth firmly, looking over at him. "It was right of you to do so. I cannot pretend I am happy to hear any of it, but perhaps any truth worth knowing is not easily accepted. I...am grateful that you considered me trustworthy enough to hear such private confessions. You may be assured that they will go no further."

"Of that fact, madam, I need no assurance - for I have never doubted it." His hand stroked hers absently for a moment; then, his face troubled again, he rose and walked about uneasily.

"What I have next to relate will, I suppose, lighten your heart or even make you laugh. Forgive me if I do not join you, for to me it is rather more embarrassing." He looked at her sheepishly; she waited quietly for him to continue.

"I must confess, Miss Bennet, to having been present in these very woods when you and Mrs. Collins walked here yesterday morning. I was sitting behind the large tree further up the hill, where you halted momentarily. Although it was not my intention, I could not help overhearing part of your conversation together."

Elizabeth was amazed again, and stared at him. He looked ashamed and uncomfortable.

"When I said to you just now that I had come to realise how mistaken I had been, it was to this that I referred."

"Do you mean to say that you heard me speaking of Jane?" she said doubtfully.

"Yes; and I also heard what you said of me." He glanced up at her; recollection danced across her face, and her complexion coloured faintly.

"I am sorry that you heard it, Mr. Darcy - I had not the smallest suspicion..."

"Of course you did not. But what would you change if you had known, in all honesty?" he said quietly.

"I would change that you had heard it at all," she replied earnestly. "I am not so unfeeling as to make plain my private thoughts about someone if those thoughts be not...favourable, and I am sure you would say the same."

"But I would not change that I heard it," said Darcy. "To be honest, Miss Bennet, I am glad of it, for it saved me from a most imprudent venture that would have ended in misery all around, I am sure."

"I do not understand you, sir," said Elizabeth, frowning.

"Why should you? You will laugh at me when I confess it: I had intended, that very afternoon, to make you an offer of marriage."

She did not laugh, for she was so astonished she could barely remember to breathe. "You are not serious," she managed to say at last.

"You do not even believe me," said Darcy with a bitter smile, pacing in his agitation. "You see what I was saved? You would have refused me, to be sure."

"I cannot deny it," said Elizabeth, still astounded, but unwilling to hurt him further by saying more.

"But here is the irony," he continued grimly. "If I had remained as I was, foolishly unaware of your real opinion of me, imagining that you would receive my proposals with gratitude, for who would not - if I had said anything to you in that state, I am sure I would have spoken in such an arrogant, unfeeling manner that you would have risen to the challenge and berated me most angrily. We would have parted on very ill terms, of that I am convinced."

"Do you not consider these terms ill?" Elizabeth asked him softly.

"Ill indeed; but not very ill. Certainly nowhere near as ill as would have been. If you hate me now, I can guarantee you would have loathed me then. For now, the accident of my eavesdropping has afforded me a little time in which to judge myself through your eyes. I did not like what I heard, Miss Bennet, but even less do I like what you have quite rightly seen in me."

Elizabeth found herself at a loss for words. She stood, her confusion evident, and walked a little way in an attempt to relieve the pressure of the emotions that were tumbling about, all mixed together, in her mind. "Mr. Darcy, I know not how to answer you," she said after a time. "But I can tell you this: that such pain as you have undergone because of me, cannot make me light-hearted. I cannot laugh at it."

"Thank you, Miss Bennet," said Darcy. "But I do not expect any answer. I do not expect that you will ever want to see me again. You need not fear that I will importune you further. Colonel Fitzwilliam and I will be leaving for London tomorrow."

With this declaration, he bowed, turned on his heel, and was swiftly gone.

Chapter Nine - Repercussions

Elizabeth did not return to the parsonage until noon. She had been far too upset to leave the grove for a long time; she had wept bitterly for nearly half an hour, then paced back and forth in agitation for almost an hour after that. Her mind and body were so awash with conflicting emotion that she felt quite at sea, unable to even notice the passage of time. She was angry, upset, humiliated, affronted and disappointed all at once. She was mortified when she thought of Wickham, irritated when she thought of Darcy, aggravated when she thought of her family, and disgusted when she thought of herself. In an effort to calm herself, she walked briskly through the park for miles without rest, following trails and paths in all directions. Luckily she had a good orientation, or she might have lost herself in her distraction; as it was, she found her feet turning to the parsonage when luncheon neared. The exercise had done her good, and she found herself hungry and able to face company. She had washed her face in the stream, and was fairly presentable; though she could not help but wish for Jane.

Mr. Collins commended her energy and her love for Rosings Park on her return. Charlotte was worried, but did not say anything in front of her husband, for she thought that Elizabeth seemed a little out of sorts. Maria informed her, with great awe, that the Colonel and Mr. Darcy had come to take their leave, and that the Colonel had waited for her return for an hour before returning to Rosings - for they were to prepare for an early departure tomorrow, and would not see them tonight, as Lady Catherine had invited other guests. Elizabeth could not fully hide her relief at this news; Charlotte observed her, and wondered.

They were to dine again at Rosings on the day of the young gentlemens' removal, for Lady Catherine was quite out of spirits and in need of company. Elizabeth felt rather out of spirits herself, and would much rather have gone and hidden somewhere; duty called, however, so to Rosings they went. She was thankful that they were to leave the following weekend. Lady Catherine tried to talk them out of it, but Elizabeth stood firm. She missed her father's steady, good-humoured presence terribly, and was longing to see Jane again. Lady Catherine was forced to be content with their original plans, though she was clearly displeased.

The last week of Elizabeth and Maria's stay at Hunsford passed as quietly as did most of the others. Elizabeth had plenty of time for reflection; and now that the intense emotion of the last few days was beginning to diminish, she felt the first glimmerings of a most unexpected feeling; regret. She was indeed deeply sorry about many things to do with Mr. Darcy, not least her gross misjudgment of his character. With the quietening of her outrage, she was able to concede some of the justice of his objections to her family and his observations of Jane. The unselfishness shown by his refusal to mention Miss Bingley's role in her brother's subjugation (for Elizabeth was convinced that Darcy had not acted alone) was more than honourable. Knowing what her reaction would be, he had not hesitated to shoulder the blame himself. He could not be faulted as regards Wickham; and as for his affections for her, Elizabeth found herself dwelling on these, however reluctantly. Why would a young man of such consequence and upbringing consider marriage to a young woman like herself, with no fortune, no connections to speak of, and a family so lacking in propriety? However much it pained her, she had only one answer to give: that Mr. Darcy had been in love with her. The notion both flattered and upset her; it soothed what little vanity remained hers in the wake of her self-abnegations, but it also brought to mind the unhappiness of their parting. I do not expect that you will ever want to see me again, he had said; but she did want to see him again, if only to apologise. She was certain that he would avoid her completely from now on, that what love he had formerly felt would wither in the face of her disdain. How bitterly she regretted her intemperate tongue!

Chapter Ten - Home

At last Saturday came, and the Collins' had to farewell their guests. Mr. Collins was his unctuous, verbose self; Charlotte's sentiments were simpler in expression, but undoubtedly more heartfelt. Elizabeth felt terrible about Charlotte's situation, but she had chosen it with open eyes; and she was not unhappy, after all. She had a house and household of her own, a respected position in the community, and a good income. Her practical nature allowed her to concentrate on these benefits, without giving in to the more depressing sides of the arrangement. But witnessing such a circumstance first-hand made Elizabeth more determined than ever to avoid a marriage without love or respect. Her musings along this line soon fuelled curiousity over what Mr. Darcy's proposal would have been like; but she realised that such speculations were fruitless, as she would doubtless never have the chance to hear him make one. Still, his face came to her mind; and she remembered with warmth the easiness they had shared for a short time as they had both sat, dirty and dishevelled, on the grass by the stream. This in turn served to remind her of how badly she had misjudged his character; so she forced herself to attend to Maria Lucas' chatter, in the vain hope that it could calm her troubled mind. Unfortunately it could not; and Maria, disconcerted by Elizabeth's distracted silences, soon fell silent herself. So passed their ride to London, where they were to spend a few days with the Gardiners and Jane before returning home to Hertfordshire. Elizabeth longed to confide in her sister, but preferred to wait until they had absolute privacy; and happily the Gardiners had secured so many engagements and activities for the young ladies that in any case she had little time to dwell on her troubles. The days in London passed swiftly and enjoyably, and it did not seem long before they were once more on the road.

Their return to Longbourn was a welcome one for all. Mrs. Bennet was overjoyed to see Jane again, and Mr. Bennet so happy to see Elizabeth that he said so several times at dinner. Kitty and Lydia, who had accompanied them for the last part of their journey, were full of chatter concerning their little trip, and the officers. Most of the Lucases were there as well, having been invited to welcome Maria home, and there was a most voluble and involved discussion in several parts to entertain them all over their meal - fashion, officers, Charlotte's poultry - all got a fair hearing. Mr. Bennet's ears were very soon full, and after the Lucases had departed he retired to his library as soon as may be. Lydia wanted to walk to Meryton in the afternoon to see the officers, but Elizabeth would not hear of it; she had no desire to see Wickham ever again, if he could be avoided, and she also did not think that such obvious pursuits would do their family reputation any favours. Lydia had informed them earlier of the regiment's impending departure for Brighton, and Elizabeth's sense of relief at this news could not be exaggerated. Lydia's determination to go to Brighton, however, caused her considerable unease; but though her father was plainly against it, he would not forbid it outright, receiving such amusement as he did from Mrs. Bennet's vain hopes in that regard.

Early the next morning, Elizabeth sat privately with Jane and unburdened her heart at last. She outlined most of what had occurred; her adventurous walk with Mr. Darcy, the beginning of her doubts, and her disturbing interview with him two days later. She told Jane everything but Darcy's revelations concerning Mr. Bingley - for she did not wish to give Jane any more heartache, or false hopes. But of Wickham she felt free to speak; and even, though it was painful, of Mr. Darcy's regard for her and his overhearing of her disdainful remarks. Jane listened to the various particulars in astonishment, but as all the information Elizabeth was imparting began to sink in, other feelings came to the fore. She was sorry for Mr. Darcy, that he should have overheard what gave him such unhappiness; sorry for Lizzy, that she should have had to disappoint the poor man; and utterly shocked over Wickham. That such wickedness could exist in one individual was quite beyond her powers of belief, and only Elizabeth's assurances of evidence could persuade her to admit, in the end, that Wickham was not a good man after all. Her heart overflowed with compassion for Darcy, the victim of Wickham's lies; and for Elizabeth herself, who had been put in a most embarrassing position by her own partiality and prejudices. Elizabeth briefly confessed her inner struggles after learning the unpalatable truth, and then asked Jane's advice on whether they ought to make Wickham's character public.

"Surely there can be no occasion for exposing him so dreadfully," said Jane, after a pause. "What is your own opinion?"

"That it ought not to be attempted," said Elizabeth. "Mr. Darcy asked me to keep his communication under confidence, and this I intend to do - excepting you, of course, or I should burst. But who would believe me in any case? The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is so violent that it would be impossible to convince anyone of his good nature without betraying the very trust he placed in me. No, I am not equal to it - and Wickham will soon be gone from the district. If, in the future, his character betrays itself, then we may be smug. But for the present I will say nothing."

"You are quite right," Jane assured her. "To have his errors made public might ruin him forever. Perhaps he is sorry now for what he has done, and anxious to re-establish a character. We must not make him desperate."

Such a statement could not convince Elizabeth of Wickham's likely motives; but it made her much easier in her mind. For a fortnight she had kept the knowledge to herself, and sharing it did much to allay the tumult she had endured in that time. Of one matter, however, she vowed to mention nothing; Darcy's revelation of his role in Bingley's removal, and his intimation that Bingley did indeed love Jane after all. For if nothing comes of it, said Elizabeth to herself, Jane will not bear additional disappointment - and if it is true, then she had better hear it from Bingley himself!

Elizabeth's first few days at home sped by quickly enough. Jane gave her much concern, for indeed she was despondent. Jane's sensible, steady nature and her attention to the feelings of her friends enabled her to hide her unhappiness from most observers, in disguising the outward expression of her melancholy, and preventing such feelings from overwhelming her. But to Elizabeth, with the closeness of a much-beloved sister, Jane's discontent was plain to see. Mrs. Bennet was also despondent, for Jane had not seen Bingley in London - nor were there any rumours of his return to Netherfield in the summer. She vented her displeasure to Elizabeth, calling him a most undeserving young man, and lamenting the whole situation dramatically. Her bitterness of spirit soon overran to include the Collins', who were a sore point with Mrs. Bennet and one she loved to belabour.

That it was also the last fortnight of the regiment's encampment at Meryton brought additional depressions to Longbourn. Kitty and Lydia were inconsolable, and determined to force their father to take the whole family to Brighton. He had Mary on his side of the argument, but the younger girls did not seem much impressed by this fact. The arrival of a letter from Mrs. Forster, the young wife of the Colonel of the regiment, brought a significant change to the household mood - for it contained none other than an invitation for Lydia to accompany the Forsters to Brighton. Lydia's delight could not be contained, and the house soon echoed with it. If one could not hear Lydia demanding congratulations, one could hear Mrs. Bennet's glee over Lydia being so singled out - and if one could somehow avoid the pair of merrymakers, then poor Kitty would be encountered, bemoaning such unfairness and complaining bitterly in peevish tones. Mary went to her room to read; Jane tried, vainly, to calm Kitty; and Elizabeth secretly went to the library, determined to point out to her father the evils that would ensue should Lydia go to Brighton.

The outcome, however, was not to Elizabeth's satisfaction. Unable to mention anything truly incriminating, she endeavoured nonetheless to represent to Mr. Bennet the improprieties of Lydia's general behaviour, the little advantage she could derive from the friendship of such a woman as Mrs. Forster, and the probability of her being yet more imprudent with such a companion in Brighton. But her father was unmoved; the advantages of such an opportunity far outweighed the drawbacks, in his judgement. She would be under the protection of Colonel Forster, after all, and would be too poor to attract the attention of fortune hunters. What better opening would arise for Lydia to sate her desire for social exposure, while at the same time affording a chance for her to learn her own insignificance amongst respectable society? With this, Elizabeth was forced to be content; but Mr. Bennet could see that her opinion was not altered in the least, and he was sorry to see her walk away in disappointment. He watched the door thoughtfully for some moments after she left the room. She has not been herself since her return from Hunsford, he mused with concern. I wonder what is eating at her?

Chapter Eleven - Excitement

The very next day brought news of the most unexpected kind. Mrs. Phillips arrived all a-flutter with the certain revelation that Mr. Bingley would be returning to Netherfield in a very few days, even before the regiment decamped.

"Oh, Jane!" exclaimed her mother. "You know what this must mean: this is all for your sake, you know!" And she began to rush around the room in her excitement, giving out contradictory orders to Mrs. Hill, while at the same time pressing her sister for the smallest detail of her knowledge on the subject. Poor Jane, who had quite given up hope of receiving Mr. Bingley's affections, while her own were still fresh enough to pain her, turned pale, and then red, and had to sit down. Elizabeth could not restrain a smile herself; and the thought that this turn of events might be due to the promised intervention of Mr. Darcy did not escape her. She found herself needing to sit also - for might this approval of one sister be read as a sign that his own partiality had not altered as much as she had feared? But no, it would not do. He was an honourable man, and she felt sure that Bingley's return was his doing - but to consider any further motives would be foolish speculation. Still, she could not help but feel an excitement on her own behalf as well as Jane's, try and repress it as she would.

That afternoon Elizabeth insisted on Jane walking out with her toward Oakham Mount, as it was clear that both needed to find some respite from their mother's raptures. Jane, normally not a great walker, acceded readily to the plan, so great was her distress over the constant rejoicings in the house. There was a comfortable silence between them for a time; then at length, Jane spoke.

"Thank you, Lizzy, for suggesting this walk. It is just what I needed."

Elizabeth grinned at her sister. "Mama has no idea she is giving you such pain, but someone had to do something."

"Am I so transparent?" asked Jane, shamefaced.

"Only to me," Elizabeth laughed, squeezing Jane's hand. "The rest of the world believes you completely unaffected by anything."

This coaxed a small smile. "Don't tease, Lizzy. I feel perfectly dreadful."

"I know exactly what you are feeling, Jane," said Elizabeth. "You hope, and yet you fear to hope - and so you are spending your time swinging wildly between the two like a pendulum, and are in utter turmoil as a result."

Jane looked at Elizabeth curiously. "Yes," she admitted.

"So!" said Elizabeth, glancing over at Jane, "Here is the solution. You must entirely convince yourself that nothing will come of it, that he is merely a tenant making quite reasonable use of a house he pays good money for; and I will do the hoping for you. You must leave all the fanciful and romantic desires of your heart in my capable hands - then, if nothing comes of it you will not be further disappointed, and if anything should come of it, I will be able to say 'I told you so'!"

"Lizzy!" said Jane, laughing; and the sisters stopped walking for a moment to embrace one another.

"Jane, you really should believe me," said Elizabeth a little more seriously, "All will be well. Truly. I have every confidence that some awful mischance kept Mr. Bingley from knowing you were in London, and now he has come to make amends."

"Awful mischance. I suppose you mean that his sisters did not tell him," said Jane softly.

"I would not say such a thing of such sterling women of character," smiled Elizabeth mischievously, "For I am to be the hopeful and optimistic one in this situation. It is down to you to make such cynical judgements - I much prefer to think rosy thoughts only."

And they laughed and walked on, arm in arm.

Meryton was buzzing by the time that Mr. Bingley and his party arrived, just two days later. Jane stayed at home in an attempt to avoid gossip and speculation, though with her mother in such an excited state she could scarcely hope to circumvent it completely. Mrs. Phillips and Mrs. Long paid visits, and Kitty and Lydia were in Meryton as often as they could manage it. Elizabeth played the part of Jane's protector as much as was possible, steering conversations away from awkward topics and attempting to keep Mrs. Bennet calm. It was a wearying and frustrating task; and finally, on the morning after the Netherfield party's arrival, Elizabeth could bear it no longer. She had to go for a walk; so, begging Jane's forgiveness, she set out through the fields between the two estates, determined to set eyes on not another living soul for at least an hour.

Chapter Twelve - Mr. Bingley

After a most satisfying time spent in solitary contemplation of the beauties of nature, her steps found the road, and she turned back toward Longbourn with not a little resignation. She had not gone far, however, before she heard the sound of hoofbeats on the road behind her. She moved to the side so as not to obstruct the rider, and turned to see who it was; to her utter astonishment, the jovial face of Mr. Bingley met her eyes. He slowed his horse and, in his enthusiasm, dismounted before it had fully stopped.

"Miss Bennet!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "What a happy coincidence - just the person I wanted to see! Well," he continued, settling his horse before giving her a polite bow, "Not the only person I wanted to see, of course!" And he stopped, looking a little embarrassed.

"Mr. Bingley," said Elizabeth with a warm smile, curtsying. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Indeed!" said Bingley, seeming somewhat overcome; but he rallied himself, and plunged on. "Miss Bennet, ever since Darcy told me of your conversation with him at Hunsford, I have wanted to offer you my most grateful thanks."

Elizabeth looked at him. "Your thanks?"

"Yes; for it was you who set Darcy straight, was it not?"

"Oh!" said Elizabeth, colouring, but unable to keep from smiling. "Is that what he told you?"

"Oh yes," said Bingley earnestly. "Because, you see, Darcy had mistakenly believed that your sister...anyway, you told him how wrong he was, and he straight away confessed it all to me as soon as he saw me, and...and he advised me to get to Netherfield as fast as I could, and here I am!"

"Well!" said Elizabeth, at a loss for words.

"Shall we walk together, Miss Bennet?" said Bingley gallantly, offering her his free arm; the other held his horse. "I believe we are going the same way."

"Thank you, sir," smiled Elizabeth. "You are visiting us at Longbourn, then?"

"Yes," Bingley grinned; then he flushed, and looked away. "I should have...should have come sooner; but, I, er..."

"You were not sure of your reception?" Elizabeth prompted helpfully.

"Exactly! You see, I had heard - that is, I was told..."

"Mr. Bingley, please do not make yourself uneasy. When Mr. Darcy and I spoke at Hunsford, he pointed out to me the modesty of your character, and confessed that he had discouraged you."

"Yes, well," said Bingley, embarrassed again. "But it was all different when he came back to London. I should have liked to see the look on his face," he blurted with a grin.

"What look?" enquired Elizabeth.

"Why, when you berated him so soundly for his disgraceful behaviour," said Bingley. "I have never dared berate Darcy, it would intimidate me too much!" and he laughed.

Elizabeth smiled, and blushed. "When next I berate Mr. Darcy, I shall be sure to warn you so that you may take notes on my technique."

"Do you know," said Bingley, looking over at his companion, "I believe that something you said, Miss Bennet..."

Elizabeth looked at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.

"Darcy seems a changed man, don't you know," he went on awkwardly. "At times he seems positively - humble! And withdrawn; or I should say, even quieter than usual. As though someone has given him - er - food for thought that he does not particularly like the taste of." Bingley gave her a quick look; there was more understanding there than Elizabeth would ever have expected.

"I think you are a good friend, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Darcy is lucky to have you," she said, with a sly smile and a congenial glance.

Bingley seemed surprised, but gratified. He reddened slightly, and cleared his throat. "Well, I don't know..."

Elizabeth laughed at him. "Mr. Darcy was right; you really are too modest, Mr. Bingley. I think Mr. Darcy relies on you very much, much as I rely on someone I know and love."

"Do you really think so, Miss Bennet?"

"I do indeed, Mr. Bingley," she assured him warmly. He did not know what to say, but he smiled a hopeful smile.

Mr. Bingley's arrival at Longbourn was unexpected only due to its earliness; but Mrs. Bennet could not be vexed at having been slightly caught out in her planning, as there could be only one reason for such a precipitous visit, and it gave her such happiness to contemplate that she could hardly think. She plied Mr. Bingley with tea and cake, and wanted to know all about his health, his sisters, his plans for Netherfield, and his guests (for she had heard from Mrs. Long that a mysterious young lady was staying with them). Mr. Bingley let it be known that he was very well, and so were his sisters and brother-in-law; that he planned to keep Netherfield for the immediate future; and that his guests were Mr. Darcy and his sister, of whom they had seen much whilst in London. But as he spoke he kept glancing shyly at Jane, who could not help but return his glances. The glances pleased Mrs. Bennet, but she had much more to discuss, and was drawing breath to do so when Elizabeth spoke up resolutely.

"Mama," she said, trying not to plead, "It is such a beautiful day. Why do we not all go out into the garden?"

Jane gave Elizabeth a hopeful yet fearful look, as Mrs. Bennet, surprised by this interruption of her flow, agreed without quite knowing what she did. Mr. Bingley shot a grateful look at Elizabeth, and stood to formally request the pleasure of Miss Bennet's company in a tour of the gardens. Jane could not refuse; though Mary declared that she would prefer to stay in, and Mrs. Bennet concurred, as she could see all she pleased from the windows. Kitty and Lydia were ecstatic at the suggestion, and soon raced outside giggling, followed by Elizabeth at a more sedate pace; and finally Mr. Bingley and Jane, arm in arm. With a smile Elizabeth left them to themselves, and strode off to make sure her younger sisters also kept well away.

Mr. Bingley and Jane spent an hour walking together in the gardens, while Mrs. Bennet spent her time hurrying from window to window, trying to ascertain what it was they spoke of by some clue in their manner, or if possible, by lip-reading.

"Mama!" Elizabeth scolded when she came in and saw what her mother was doing. "What if they should notice you? I dare say Mr. Bingley would find it quite off-putting to see you spying on him through every window in the house."

"Off-putting? Whatever do you talk of, Lizzy?" said Mrs. Bennet, irritated. "And I was not spying on them, nor did I look through every window in the house! Really, you do exaggerate so!"

But she forced herself to sit down and be content with the view from the dining room. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and sat with her.

Mr. Bingley stayed for dinner, which was a most pleasant affair for all involved. Mr. Bennet made easy conversation, and Mrs. Bennet managed to restrain herself to acceptable topics. Kitty and Lydia wanted to know all about Miss Darcy. Elizabeth was gratified to hear that Wickham's account of the sister seemed as false as his stories concerning the brother; and she was very interested to hear what Mr. Bingley had to say about the relationship between the two. It painted a somewhat different picture of Mr. Darcy than any of the Bennet family had so far seen - except, possibly, Elizabeth.

"Mr. Darcy is a most affectionate brother, then, Mr. Bingley," said Mr. Bennet approvingly, giving Elizabeth a look of mild surprise.

"It surprises a lot of people to hear it, because he can seem like a bit of a cold fish!" Bingley grinned. "But that's only because no-one can guess what he is thinking, and he rarely likes to say. The opposite of myself!" he observed with good humour. "I speak first, and do my thinking later, if I must."

"So do I!" exclaimed Lydia.

"And me," Kitty added. They giggled; Elizabeth and her father shared a glance, and Mary looked at them most disapprovingly.

Bingley's horse was called for after the meal, and he sorrowfully took his leave; but not before promising to return early the next day. Elizabeth, seizing her courage, stepped forward as he was about to mount up, after the others had gone back in.

"Mr. Bingley, if you have a moment..."

He turned in surprise. "Of course, Miss Bennet. What can I do for you?"

"I wonder if you could give a brief message to Mr. Darcy," she said, a little embarrassed.

"I will give him a long one if you choose; as long as you don't ask me to berate him." Said Bingley with a grin.

"You are most kind, sir. No, it is not long, or even unpleasant. Will you please tell him I would like to speak with him, if it is convenient, of course."

"That is easy for even me to remember! Consider it done," said Bingley warmly. "And if you can think of any other favours, you are to tell me immediately - for I believe I owe you much, Miss Bennet."

"No, Mr. Bingley. You owe me nothing," she assured him with a smile. He flung himself onto his horse's back, and with a cheerful wave, was gone.

Chapter Thirteen - Another Visitor

True to his word, Bingley returned the next morning while the Bennets were still at breakfast. He had with him a companion, as Kitty made known from the window.

"It looks like that awful friend of his - Mr. Darcy," she said excitedly. Elizabeth's eyes widened involuntarily; but she quickly quelled her anxiety before anyone could notice. "I would like to meet his sister, she sounded very nice," Kitty went on, pleased at the thought of a new acquaintance about her age.

"As long as she is nicer than he is, she will do well!" said Mrs. Bennet.

Mr. Bennet cleared his throat, and prepared for a bit of teasing. "But of course, my dear, if Mr. Bingley likes the fellow, he cannot be that bad."

"Well, I suppose not," Mrs. Bennet conceded with ill humour. "I can put up with him if I must, for that excellent Mr. Bingley's sake!" And thinking of that fine young man who was shortly to appear, her spirits lifted.

It was not long before the two young gentlemen were ushered in, and seated with cups of coffee as the family finished eating. Jane and Bingley kept glancing at one another, and when Mr. Bennet spoke it seemed that Mr. Bingley was not able to give his full attention to the matter; the silent Darcy was forced to answer his enquiries.

"We are all very well, sir," said that gentleman. "My sister is much pleased with Hertfordshire; she has not yet had opportunity to travel much, and enjoys the countryside."

"Your estate is in Derbyshire, I understand?" said Mrs. Bennet, with her best imitation of a polite voice.

"Yes, it is." He seemed in danger of falling silent again, but made the effort to add, "I confess I love the country life myself. There is little that moves me more than the sight of a stream trickling down a mountainside; or deer, running wild through the mist."

"I share your sentiments, Mr. Darcy," said Mr. Bennet, and he looked at Elizabeth with raised brows.

"Well!" said Mrs. Bennet brightly, getting bored and wanting to move things along. "What a fine morning it is: would you young gentlemen care for a walk outside, in the garden? Mr. Bingley, I am sure dear Jane would love to take a turn; and Lizzy, perhaps you could accompany Mr. Darcy."

"A splendid idea!" Bingley enthused, and he shot to his feet, looking over at Jane, who blushed lightly. Darcy looked awkwardly at Elizabeth, who gave him a wry smile and stood. "There is nothing I love better than to be outside on a morning such as this," she said. "Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Darcy?"

"Indeed, Miss Bennet," said he, with a bow. Mrs. Bennet, cooing over them, ushered them out the door, while at the same time endeavouring to scold Kitty for squabbling with Lydia. She seized Elizabeth's arm as she left the room, and whispered, "I am sorry, Lizzy, for I know he is a disagreeable man, but for your sister's sake, keep him busy for a while! Take him up to that grove where your father likes to sit; then you shall be in no-one's way."

"Yes, mama," Elizabeth laughed, trying not to show how anxious she was feeling.

Chapter Fourteen - Apologies

Bingley and Jane wended their way through the flowerbeds, while Elizabeth and Darcy wandered up towards the grove. Now that they were alone, nervousness gripped her strongly; but she was resolved to speak.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Darcy," she said earnestly. "I was afraid you would not want to."

He looked at her oddly, then with a small smile, said, "I was glad to receive your message - I must confess I was afraid of the same."

Her eyes widened; she shook her head, and smiled. "Talking to you is never boring, at least. You constantly surprise me."

"Was that a compliment, Miss Bennet?" he said.

"Yes, if you like," she allowed. "But I did not ask to speak with you so that I could compliment you all day."

"You did not?"

"No," she said, gratified at his gentle teasing. "I wanted to apologise."

Now he looked surprised, and frowned slightly, so she forged on before he could speak.

"My conscience has been troubling me greatly, Mr. Darcy, ever since our conversation at Hunsford. Well," she admitted with a rueful glance, "Ever since I calmed down after our conversation, anyway. I am so heartily ashamed of myself, I can scarcely bear to think of what I said and the way I behaved."

"Miss Bennet," Darcy interjected, turning to face her. "Please do not upset yourself. You had no way of knowing Wickham's true character. Truly, you hold no blame on that score."

"On that score, perhaps I might excuse myself; if I could be so dishonest as to ignore my true motivations!" she disagreed unhappily. "No, Mr. Darcy, it will not do. I find myself guilty of the same failings I once presumed to despise in you - pride, arrogance, and willful prejudice. I have misjudged you greatly, sir, and I must beg your forgiveness."

Darcy was so amazed and affected by this honest confession that for a moment he could not speak; he could only look at her. She could not hold his gaze for long, and Darcy was brought back to himself by the disappointment on her face as she lowered her eyes.

"Miss Bennet, I must..." But the words would not come easily, so he cast about. "Perhaps we should sit, before we continue."

She made no objection; indeed, she was uncharacteristically silent as they made their way to a garden bench, and sat.

"Miss Bennet, you owe me no apologies," he began uncomfortably. "Until Bingley brought me your message, all I could think of was that I would never get the chance to apologise to you. You were right to judge me so; my behaviour has been unpardonable. I have been fully used to going through the world, looking down on whomsoever I saw fit to judge inferior to myself, for whatever reason; be it wealth, or manners, or situation. I do not think you can imagine the turmoil I felt when I realised your dislike of me. Everything I valued and thought to be worthy was not enough..." he paused, and she looked at him expectantly.

"Not enough for what?" she asked, her voice low.

"Not enough to please a woman worthy of being pleased." He held her eyes for a second, and she blushed deeply.

"No, Mr. Darcy," she disavowed. "I am not worthy. My family is disgraceful, and I am foolish and imprudent."

"If it is so, then I am rude, ill-mannered and ungentlemanlike," he said gravely. "Not to mention proud, arrogant and willfully prejudiced."

This drew a small smile from Elizabeth, and her eyes held a sparkle as she glanced over at him with a sigh. "Well, sir, we are both still reasonable people, I hope. Perhaps we had better concede that the truth of all our assertions lies, no doubt, somewhere in between."

"I will willingly concede it," he said, and a brief silence fell before he spoke again. "Miss Bennet, would I ask too much..."

She looked at him, curious; he seemed embarrassed.

"Can I ask that we forget all that has gone before, and start anew - as friends?"

Elizabeth found this request so unexpected that she took a moment to recover her wits and stop staring. But he was perfectly serious, that was plain. An unlooked-for happiness arose in her breast.

"I would like that very much, Mr. Darcy," she said quietly. He looked at her gratefully, and a smile lit his eyes. "But," she continued playfully, raising her eyebrows, "I can only agree to such a proposal on one condition; and that is that you must endeavour to be more open and obvious with your intentions and thoughts, for I am quite stupid and whenever I have to guess what you are thinking, I invariably get it horribly wrong."

"Very well, Miss Bennet, I accept your condition," he said, "But I have one of my own."

"Name it, sir," said Elizabeth.

"Why, it is very similar. I am equally as stupid at the mind-reading game as you, or may I say even stupider; so I too need to be helped along."

"That can be managed easily enough," she said; but added, after a thoughtful pause, "As long as you keep in mind my propensity to tease without warning, and my regrettable habit of occasionally professing opinions which are not my own, for my own amusement."

"I will do so," said Darcy, a smile tugging at his lips. "In fairness I must warn you of my own habits of occasionally saying nothing at all for long periods of time, or appearing to disapprove of someone when I am only lost in my own thoughts."

She extended a hand, her eyes glinting. "Do we have a deal then, Mr. Darcy?"

"Done," said Darcy, shaking her hand firmly. They smiled at one another.