Chapter Twenty-five - The Summer Dance

It was with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation that Elizabeth stepped from her family's carriage that evening. Netherfield stood before her, and she recalled to mind the last time she had danced here. She had not been at all nervous then, but now...now she was beginning to feel as though she may have something to lose. Jane took her arm, jolting Elizabeth free of reverie, and with a look of mutual understanding the two sisters made their way up the front steps. Mr. Bingley greeted them both with a kiss on the cheek and a warm handshake before turning to the rest of the family. Jane greeted Miss Bingley, behind him, in a similar fashion, though Elizabeth's contact with her was thankfully perfunctory, due to the volume of guests arriving at once. She made her way through clusters of neighbours and acquaintances into the ballroom, where someone snagged her arm. She turned; it was Georgiana, beaming with excitement.

"Oh Elizabeth, I am so glad you are come!" she said in a near whisper. "But I have been talking with Maria Lucas - she is very nice."

"You look lovely, Georgiana!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "How do you feel?"

"Completely nervous," confessed Miss Darcy, "But much better now you and Jane are here. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley wanted me to try on some of their headdresses - "

"Headdresses? With feathers?" Elizabeth could not hold back a mischievous laugh. "I am glad you did not! I believe you are a little...young to do justice to such fashions."

"That is just what I said. Though I took your advice and made it sound pretty; I said that I was not confident enough, as well. I wanted to say that how anyone could imagine such grandiose creations would ever suit me was quite beyond my comprehension - but I did not."

"Well done, dear Georgiana. But watch out; here come Lydia and Kitty."

"Oh! Miss Darcy!" exclaimed Lydia happily, as she and Kitty came up to them. "You look very nice - and doesn't Lizzy look nicer than usual? She is out to impress mmph!" For Kitty had put her hand over Lydia's mouth.

"Lydia!" Kitty scolded. "This is not a tea-party, it is a ball, and you must have some manners. Look, there's Emily and Maria."

And with a giggle the two were gone, as swiftly as they had come. Georgiana rolled her eyes, and Elizabeth chided her with a grin, "Don't start doing that, for I promised your brother I would teach you none of my bad habits!"

"What bad habits?" came Mr. Darcy's voice from behind her.

"None whatsoever, sir," said Elizabeth, giving him a smile and a curtsey. He bowed deeply, his eyes sparkling with appreciation as he took in her appearance.

"You look lovely, Miss Bennet," he said in a tone of such sincerity that she began to blush.

"You look very dashing yourself, Mr. Darcy," she replied; and indeed he looked exceedingly fine in his formal attire.

"May I be so bold - would you do me the honour of dancing the first with me, Miss Bennet? If you are not otherwise engaged, that is." His speech seemed confident enough, but his eyes and manner were not. Elizabeth felt touched; he was as nervous as herself, if not more so.

"It would be my pleasure," she answered him warmly. Happiness suffused his expression, though his smile was only a small one.

"Thank you," he said simply, and for a moment they stood, gazes locked. At length she looked away, embarrassed.

"Georgiana, do you..." she began, only to realise that Miss Darcy was no longer there.

"I believe my sister is matchmaking," Darcy observed quietly. "At least, the number of times she has left us alone together makes me assume so."

Elizabeth could not restrain a smile. "I fear you are correct, sir," she said. "But I can assure you, this is one bad habit I did not teach her."

Here they were interrupted by Sir William Lucas.

"Mr. Darcy!" he enthused, "I do hope to see you stand up with this charming young lady. What a picture you made the last time you danced together."

"Thank you, Sir William. We will indeed be dancing together. More than once, if I can convince the lady to put up with me," said Darcy politely.

"Capital!" declared Sir William. "And Miss Eliza. What good fortune for your sister Jane, eh?" He leaned a little closer, and vouchsafed, "But perhaps greater fortune may soon be your own!" His small, cheerful eyes regarded them closely. "Well, well! Capital!" And with a brief bow, he moved off.

Almost immediately he was replaced by Mrs. Phillips, who kissed Elizabeth's cheek affectionately and wished her every future happiness in no uncertain terms, all the while glancing slyly at Mr. Darcy. When she left, Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, angry and embarrassed.

"Do not make yourself uneasy," came Darcy's low voice, and his hand rested a moment on her shoulder. "I am perfectly reconciled..."

"Mr. Darcy!" Miss Bingley's voice sounded loudly from one side, "And Miss Eliza! I have just heard the most astonishing rumour, you will never believe it." Her large eyes inspected them both. "I heard that you, Mr. Darcy, and you, Miss Bennet, are engaged!" The shock she saw on both faces convinced her that it was not so, and she rejoiced internally. "Really, what a disgraceful thing to be bandying about. So very hurtful, so inconsiderate of the feelings of those involved! I wonder who would start such an astonishing story!"

Both Darcy and Elizabeth knew with whom it had originated, in spirit if not in substance.

"If you will excuse me a moment," said Elizabeth as graciously as she could manage, and she went to find her mother.

"Mama!" Elizabeth's angry whisper interrupted Mrs. Bennet's avid attention, which had been focussed on Lady Lucas. "Excuse us, Lady Lucas, I need to speak with my mother for a moment." So saying, she applied a firm pressure to her mother's arm, necessitating that Mrs. Bennet follow her out into a quieter corner.

"Whatever is the matter, Lizzy?" demanded Mrs. Bennet, irritated.

"Mother, I have just received one congratulation, one implication, and one report of a rumour that I am engaged to Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth in agitation, though she kept her voice low. "How many of your friends have you been telling stories to?"

"Stories?" frowned Mrs. Bennet. "Why, I have told no one that you are engaged - not in so many words."

Elizabeth groaned, and rested her head on the wall.

"Where is the harm?" protested the optimistic Mrs. Bennet. "I know you are not engaged yet, but you cannot think it will now be long before you are. If someone has...misconstrued anything I happened to mention, then so much the better! It will bring it on that much sooner, for your Mr. Darcy seems a little shy to me, and may want some assistance in his resolution." Satisfied with this reasoning, she regarded her daughter complacently.

"But we are not engaged, and we have reached no understanding of any kind," Elizabeth objected angrily. "As a man of consequence Mr. Darcy must be very careful of his reputation. How do you imagine he will react to rumours such as these, which could result in either a taint to his standing as a gentleman, or in being forced into a marriage he does not desire?"

Mrs. Bennet frowned in confusion. "You mean he does not want to marry you?"

"I don't know, Mama - that is my point!" Elizabeth gave her mother a heated look, and Mrs. Bennet subsided with bad grace.

"Oh well, if you put it that way, I suppose I might go and set things a little straighter."

"No! Do not confuse the issue any further, I beg you. If anyone happens to ask you, then tell them - but please Mama, no more rumours!"

"Very well! Really, Lizzy, you are so difficult...hsst, here he comes!" Mrs. Bennet's face transformed into the very soul of blissful delight at Darcy's approach, and she went on in a loud voice, "The orchestra is finishing up their piece, dear. Is this your partner for the first dance I see, coming to take you away?"

"I apologise for the interruption, Mrs. Bennet, but it is indeed the case," said Darcy with a bow and a subtle smile.

"Oh, how handsome you look, Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Bennet simpered. "I must say you look very fine together. I know you do not like to dance often yourself, but I'll warrant you'll not find a prettier partner to stand up with than Lizzy, or a better dancer!" She avoided Elizabeth's irritated glance, and kept smiling at Mr. Darcy.

"Thank you, madam," said he gravely. He offered Elizabeth his arm, and they moved off to join the other dancers.

"I am sorry, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth quietly as they walked, glancing anxiously up at her partner. "It looks as though we may be in for a rather embarrassing evening."

"As I said before, Miss Bennet, I am reconciled," said Darcy gently. "Pray make no more apologies for what is outside your own control. Myself, I have decided to have a little enjoyment, and others may make of it what they will."

Elizabeth looked up at him, surprised and pleased. "Very well, sir. We shall ignore the rest of the room for a time," she smiled, "And hope that Sir William will allow us to dance unimpeded by admiration."

"Exactly," said Darcy, returning her smile, and they moved to face one another in the dance.

Chapter Twenty-Six - Chess

Darcy danced only five dances that evening. Twice he stood up with Georgiana - the other three were with Miss Bennet. He knew that people were talking about them, and that his neglect of every other single woman in the room would only fuel the fire, but he did not mind in the least. More and more he had begun to hope that his partiality was returned. Elizabeth had danced every dance so far, and was even now dancing with her cousin, Joseph Phillips; but Darcy had observed that she did not speak as often to her other partners as she had to him. Nor, he fancied, had her eyes met theirs in the same way that she looked at him. Her eyes...Darcy, indulging his favourite habit of watching Elizabeth, fell into a pleasant reverie, reflecting on the expressiveness of her dark eyes. Warmth, humour, respect, fortitude, a delight in challenges and of course that teasing glint - all had met him on the dance floor. A voice nearby brought him back to himself, and he realised with a start that he was staring openly at Elizabeth - and that she had noticed, and was looking at him. He dropped his gaze, embarrassed, but she only tossed him a cheeky grin and moved on, gracefully turning and weaving through the intricate steps.

"I said, isn't this tedious, Mr. Darcy?" said the voice again, and Darcy found that Miss Bingley was standing beside him with an expectant air.

"No, not at all," said Darcy quietly, and Miss Bingley was not pleased with this answer or its tone. She followed the direction of his gaze, and was still more displeased.

"I suppose you are enraptured with Miss Eliza Bennet's dancing, as you seem to be with her conversation and company," said Caroline in a faintly barbed manner, endeavouring to hide her pique.

"Yes, I believe I am," Darcy declared, turning to look at Miss Bingley directly.

"You will be sure to invite us all to the wedding, I hope," said Miss Bingley, still attempting to disguise her sour feelings with a sweet tone. "I would not want to miss seeing the happiness of your new sisters and mother-in-law, upon gaining such an addition to their noble family."

"I am sure you would not," said Darcy somewhat coldly, refusing to be drawn.

"And of course you will always be welcome at your aunt and uncle Phillips', in Meryton," continued Miss Bingley, beginning to warm to her subject. Darcy, to his relief, was spared the necessity of replying by the serendipitous arrival of Mr. Bennet, who had noticed the gentleman's distress and come to tender assistance.

"Ah, Miss Bingley!" said Mr. Bennet admiringly. "You must come and offer us your expert advice, my dear. Mrs. Long and Mrs. Phillips are engaged in a debate over the best colour for silks, and I told them I would go and fetch them an educated mediator. No one knows as much about silks as you, I am sure!"

"You flatter me, sir," said Miss Bingley, taken aback. She did not really know what to make of Mr. Bennet, and could never tell whether he was being serious or was satirising her.

"No indeed, I have the utmost respect for your authority on such a matter," said Mr. Bennet, his eyes twinkling as he smiled. "I confess I have told the ladies just that, and they have agreed to submit to your judgement, and yours alone."

He offered his arm, and Miss Bingley gave in and took it. She had no wish to really antagonise Mr. Bennet, and had tried subtle put-downs before with no success at all. She had no choice but to go, and Darcy resolved to procure for Mr. Bennet a case of the most excellent whiskey money could buy as a token of his gratitude. As they walked away he let out a sigh, and turned back to see what Elizabeth was doing - but she was gone, and a new set of dancers were assembling. For the first time she was not among them. Darcy began scanning the ballroom, and soon found her with Georgiana. The two were laughing and talking, and soon began moving in his direction.

"Oh, William," smiled Georgiana happily when they reached him. "I was just dancing with Mr. Matheson, who is so handsome!"

"Handsome, is he?" said Darcy, unable to keep a note of parental concern out of his voice.

"You should not frighten your brother like that, Miss Darcy," Elizabeth chided, with a teasing smile at Darcy.

"I am not frightened, Miss Bennet," Darcy assured her, feeling a little foolish.

"Of course not, sir," said Elizabeth. Her eyes sparkled with humour, and Darcy wished he could ask her to take a turn outside with him - but he supposed that such a thing would be improper after three dances together.

"My brother likes to play chess," said Georgiana, in a surprising change of topic.

"Oh?" Elizabeth smiled. "And whom do you play against at Netherfield, Mr. Darcy?"

"Bingley obliges me every so often," said Darcy, returning her smile. "But I usually reserve chess for town, where I go to a chess club."

"My father used to frequent chess clubs, but that was years ago," said Elizabeth.

"I understand you are fond of the game yourself, Miss Bennet," said Darcy warmly.

"I am very fond of it," Elizabeth said, "But I do not play often."

"It is ...unusual for young ladies to play chess," Darcy observed curiously.

"I know," laughed Elizabeth, "But I tormented my father until he taught me. Believe it or not, I am not the only female player in the district. My good friend Charlotte is also acquainted with the game."

"A pity she had to remove to Hunsford, then," said Darcy.

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed.

"William has a board set up in one of the sitting rooms," Georgiana announced. "Look, here comes Mr. Bennet. Perhaps you should challenge him to a game, William."

"We are at a ball, Georgiana," Darcy reminded her good-humouredly. Georgiana blushed, but did not look repentant. She moved aside slightly to make room for Mr. Bennet, who greeted them all in his usual dry manner.

"I must offer you my thanks, sir," said Darcy earnestly, while the ladies watched him curiously.

"Think nothing of it, my boy," smiled Mr. Bennet. "You appeared to be in some pain. I hope you have been afforded some relief."

"Indeed," smiled Darcy, gratitude evident in his tone.

"Well well," said Mr. Bennet, a little embarrassed by Darcy's sincerity. "And how are the young ladies enjoying their evening?"

"Oh, very well indeed," said Georgiana. "I am so glad my first ball is here in Hertfordshire rather than in town."

Mr. Bennet regarded her approvingly. "Yes, I always found London society a tad shark-like for my taste. I am glad I am not alone in the sentiment, Miss Darcy!"

"Shark-like, Papa?" laughed Elizabeth. "That is a little unkind."

"It may be, but from my point of view it is also entirely accurate, my love. I much prefer to swim in quiet backwaters out in the country, with the catfish and the carp. But look, here comes a lamprey - no, Lady Lucas has distracted her. Did you not say your brother has a remarkably fine chess set in one of the sitting rooms, Miss Darcy?"

Darcy and Elizabeth shot each other a quick glance of amusement at the extent of Georgiana's latest ploy. How tempting it would be to slip off unnoticed to view the chess set; Georgiana had even provided a chaperone, and with the impending approach of Miss Bingley, there would never be more opportune moment to do so. Darcy tried to look sternly at his sister, but she had her eyes lowered demurely and would not look up. He sighed, and gave in to his inclination for a bit of peace in good company.

"So Georgiana mentioned that to you earlier, did she? Yes, it is a fine specimen. I understand you and your daughter are both admirers of the game, Mr. Bennet - would you care to see it?"

"My word," said Mr. Bennet, "I would indeed - if it would not put you to any trouble, that is."

"No trouble at all, I assure you. This way," Darcy motioned them ahead, managing to catch Georgiana's eye as his guests preceded them. He gave her what he hoped was a look of disapproval, but feared that amusement would show through; which it evidently did, as Georgiana only smiled shyly and waved him goodbye.

Darcy led Mr. and Miss Bennet back out to the foyer, then through a nearby door into a small sitting room. It was not the one usually frequented by residents and guests of Netherfield; it was cosier, and the furniture consisted only of two tables and several chairs. It was not well lit, as no use of it was expected on this particular evening; but on one of the tables was set an extraordinary chessboard, softly illuminated by candlelight.

"My goodness me, Mr. Darcy. Your sister did not exaggerate!" Mr. Bennet gazed in awe at the large board, hand-carved from black and white stone in incredible detail. "Wherever did you get it, sir?"

"It belonged to my grandfather," said Darcy. "Apparently he brought it from South America."

"And you play with this set?" said Elizabeth softly, her eyes drinking in the glow of the stonework. Unable to resist, she moved closer to the board.

"I do," smiled Darcy. "I believe it must be charmed, for it has been in constant use ever since I can remember, yet no one has ever broken any of the pieces. You are welcome to touch it," he offered, as that was clearly what she desired.

Elizabeth, smiling, removed her gloves and picked up one of the knights. It was so large that the width of her palm did not cover it. The carving was exquisite, every detail rendered with the care and skill of a master-craftsman; the black stone was smooth beneath her fingers, and reflected the candlelight as if from a deep pool. Darcy, watching her, caught his breath; suddenly he had absolutely no desire to return to the ball, and no further quibbles with the propriety of neglecting one's social obligations.

"Would either of you care for a game?" he asked, surprising them both.

Chapter Twenty-Seven - The Game

"No, no," said Mr. Bennet quickly, with a glance that made Darcy suspect that he had known all along what Georgiana was up to, and approved. "Not I - but I love to watch a good game. You and Elizabeth play, and I will be your spectator." And he settled himself in a comfortable chair nearby, looking expectantly at the young couple.

"Miss Bennet?" Darcy gestured towards one of the players' chairs. "Or perhaps you would prefer to return to your dancing."

"Oh! No, I would love to play. I must say this will be the first game of chess I ever played at a ball," she laughed, seating herself behind the black pieces, with which she seemed remarkably taken. "Though I shall hardly dare to make a move, with such a beautiful set waiting for me to ruin it."

"If you don't think about it, it won't happen," said Darcy, amused. He sat opposite her, and made the mistake of looking directly at her across the table. The subtle radiation of the candlelight was caught and reflected by her expressive dark eyes, and by the ivory gown she wore; he had never seen anything as beautiful. Her eyes were dancing with amusement, and she leaned her chin on one hand.

"White has the first move, sir," she gently reminded him.

Darcy cleared his throat. "Yes," he said gruffly, and bent his head to the board. This would be a difficult game, no matter what standard of play Elizabeth produced.

Mr. Bennet was watching them with great amusement and satisfaction. He was well pleased with young Mr. Darcy; he had been watching him closely since his return to Hertfordshire, with a father's jealous eye. Although Lizzy had not said so, he had a suspicion that their little altercation at Hunsford had come about because of Darcy's interest in his favourite daughter, an interest which had plainly been genuine and serious, and also disappointed. There were not too many rich young men who would swallow their pride in such a manner and continue the pursuit in a fashion designed to please their young lady and not themselves - in fact, until now Mr. Bennet would have wagered on there being none. Here was a fellow with patience, intelligence, integrity, and a good deal of fire. He would need it all to cope with Elizabeth; but he was worthy of her, and Mr. Bennet meant to do everything in his power to advance the match - even watch a chess game.

The game progressed slowly. Darcy quickly became aware that he was facing a capable opponent who, despite her protestations of inexperience, possessed an intuitive grasp of the strategy and foresight necessary to play well. Half an hour passed by before they knew it, and still neither was in a winning position. Darcy was no master, nor was he a slouch - but Elizabeth was giving him a run for his money. Mr. Bennet, who had risen to inspect the board more closely, ventured no comments beyond raised eyebrows; but as he sat down again, a flurry of voices outside the door distracted them, and four visitors spilled into the room. The players looked around to see Mr. Bingley, his sisters, and Jane.

"So this is where you are hiding, Darcy," laughed Bingley. "With your beloved chessboard - and Miss Elizabeth! Oh, and Mr. Bennet too. I did not see you there, sir."

They all came over to the game, the two older ladies wearing expressions of condescension.

"I hope he is not being too rough on you, Miss Bennet," smiled Mrs. Hurst.

"Oh, I am sure Mr. Darcy is too much the gentleman to be as cruel to Miss Eliza as he is to Charles," said Miss Bingley, causing her sister to giggle.

"I say!" said Bingley, looking admiringly at Elizabeth's position. "Darcy's not winning at all!"

"Nor am I losing," Darcy said, a little sharply.

"Mr. Darcy is a true gentleman," said Elizabeth with humour. "He cannot bring himself to win, or to lose, which makes things a little awkward for me, as I must spare his feelings."

"I think you should just trounce him and have done," grinned Bingley. "Look, you are making him sweat!"

Darcy did indeed look uncomfortable. The last few moves had been telling on him; he had been endeavouring not to notice Elizabeth's finely formed hands, or the alluring expression she wore as she concentrated, and he would have succeeded had she been a lesser player - but her moves were challenging, and he was feeling the strain.

"Whose turn is it?" asked Jane.

"Mr. Darcy's," said Elizabeth with a smile. She could afford to smile, as her knight had placed both his bishop and his rook in danger, and he had no way of removing the threat directly.

"Poor Mr. Darcy!" interjected Mr. Bennet. "He is in a dangerous position, and you should all be quiet so he can think."

"But that is the challenge," said Bingley good-naturedly. "If he can make a sound move with us all here, scrutinising him, then he is sure to win the match."

"These are Bingley's usual tactics, Mr. Bennet," said Darcy somewhat acerbically. "He imagines that if he annoys one enough, he will come out the winner."

"Does it work, Charles?" grinned Elizabeth, diverted by the image that sprang to mind of Bingley and Darcy playing chess.

"Not yet," Bingley admitted unabashed, "But at least it means I get some amusement out of my losses!"

"Will you be quiet, Bingley!" Darcy growled, though his mouth twitched at Bingley's descriptions.

"I will do better than that," said Bingley graciously. "Jane and I are going back to the dancing, aren't we, my dear?"

"Oh yes," Jane agreed. "For it looks as though the game is nowhere near finished."

"Come, Caroline, Louisa - let us leave these unsociable thinkers to their thoughts. We had much better attend to our party!" Bingley, irrepressible, held out a hand to encourage his sisters to move. Miss Bingley eyed the players warily, but was mollified by the presence of Elizabeth's father, who would allow no improprieties. And after all, chess was a game which discouraged conversation... She allowed Charles to herd her out the door, offering only a parting comment.

"Take care she does not defeat you, Mr. Darcy."

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Checkmate

Darcy heaved a sigh as the door closed, allowing peace to once more envelop the three occupants of the sitting room.

"Do you think chess pieces would make effective missiles?" he growled, leaning back in his chair.

Elizabeth, who was facing the door, smiled broadly. "I think these particular ones could strike with lethal force, due to their weight. Should I slay the next person who comes through the door, sir?"

Darcy and Mr. Bennet laughed.

"Now now, Lizzy - pay him no attention. He merely wants to postpone the necessity of making a move," chuckled Mr. Bennet.

"Oh yes, it is your move, sir," said Elizabeth, looking at Mr. Darcy with an innocent expression and the devil in her eye. Darcy frowned ruefully, and bent his concentration to the task at hand.

After a further half-hour of agony, Darcy had to admit to himself that she might be winning. Three things were eating at him, disrupting his focus and introducing errors into his game; her proximity, her clever playing, and his desire to propose matrimony.

As if able to read Darcy's mind, Mr. Bennet chose that moment to stand, peruse the board, and declare, "Very interesting - I shall return in five or ten minutes, for I must get a spot of air and a drink."

Elizabeth hardly noticed her father's withdrawal, so intent was she on the board; but Darcy felt nervousness almost overcome him. This was his chance - at last he had Elizabeth to himself for a brief period. To his dismay she made a brilliant move, crisply announcing his danger:

"Check."

Torn between the game and his inner urgings, Darcy could only look blindly at the board, all the while turning the ring on his left hand in an attempt to vent nervous energy. Elizabeth was watching him expectantly, so he forced himself to attend to the game. He moved his remaining bishop to block her rook.

"Mr. Darcy, are you all right?" said Elizabeth, now looking at him with concern.

"Yes - yes, I am fine," said Darcy, refusing to raise his eyes to hers.

"You do not wish to reconsider that move you just made?" she said dubiously, lifting her eyebrows.

"No," he said shortly.

"Mr. Darcy, you are letting me win," Elizabeth chastised him.

"Am I?" he blurted, then blushed. "Oh," he said, watching as if mesmerised as she moved her queen one last time. He waited for her to speak the word that signalled his defeat, but she did not.

"What is wrong, sir? Do you have a headache? Truly, you look very ill." The genuine worry in her tone at last forced him to look up. He swallowed, and placed his sweating hands firmly on the table so that they could not fidget. He summoned his courage, and in a voice strained with emotion, he declared:

"Miss Bennet - you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

It was the last thing Elizabeth was expecting to hear. Her mouth fell open, and she stared, unable to quite believe the evidence of her own ears. A deep blush rose to her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze. To Darcy's horror, she stood up; but instead of leaving the room as he had feared, she went to the window, which was nearly as bad.

Cursing himself for his impulsiveness and stupidity, he put his head in his hands. But it was too late to call the words back. He risked a glance at her; she had her face near the open window, and her back to him.

"I have upset you," he said quietly, his voice rough with self-recrimination. "You must believe I did not intend - "

"No," she said, and she turned to face him. He could not make out her features clearly in the dim light, but something in her voice told his heart it was safe to start beating again. "No, you have not upset me."

He got to his feet, and walked to stand beside her. "Is there no chance..." he said awkwardly. "I know it is too soon, but Elizabeth, please tell me I have reason to hope."

She was watching him searchingly, silently. It seemed to him an age before she made a reply; but to his delight she said softly, "Yes. There is reason."

He could not hold back the ragged sigh that escaped him on hearing her words. Powerful emotions surged inside him, and almost without volition he found that he had moved even nearer to her; that his face was so close to her own that he could feel her quickened breath on his cheek, then on his mouth. She did not retreat, and his lips met hers in a gentle caress of such sweetness that Elizabeth felt a warmth spreading through her entire body. Reluctantly, Darcy drew back, hoping she was not scandalised by his forward behaviour. He did not get far, for Elizabeth was not yet ready to stop; her hands slid up over his chest, grasped his collar, and pulled him down for another kiss. This one was less tentative, and things were becoming more involved when the sharp sound of hoofbeats on gravel intruded, coming through the open window. Muted voices could be heard, but Darcy and Elizabeth paid them no mind. They had entered another world where no one else existed; no sights, no sounds, no sensations but the ones they shared.

This newly-discovered harmony was not to last, however. Footsteps sounded outside the sitting room, and Mr. Bennet's voice could be heard.

"Mr. Darcy? I believe he was in here, playing chess - I will just check and see if he is still there."

The lovers sprang apart, mortified. Darcy shot over to the chess table as quickly as he could, and Elizabeth turned back to the window, as if admiring the darkened view. Mr. Bennet's grey head cautiously peered around the door. Darcy appeared to be studying the board in front of him, and Elizabeth nonchalantly turned to greet her father with a smile.

"Not a moment too soon, Papa," she said, her voice a little unsteady. "I have just made the last move."

"Oho!" said Mr. Bennet, coming in to check the board. "She has foxed you, eh Darcy?"

Darcy glanced up at Mr. Bennet, sure his cheeks must still be flushed from his previous activity. Elizabeth was lucky - she was over by the window, out of the direct light. With a sigh, he carefully laid his king to rest.

"Checkmate," he said, catching Elizabeth's eye.

Mr. Bennet gave him a shrewd look, then announced, "Good timing, young sir - an urgent express has just arrived for you, from London."

Chapter Twenty-Nine - An Urgent Express

His head still awhirl from Elizabeth's kisses, Darcy got to his feet and went to the door. Elizabeth was watching him from the window, her expression difficult to read.

"Come, my dear," said her father gently, as Darcy closed the door behind him, "The others are having a bit of supper, and preparing to leave - as we must do, I fear."

Elizabeth let out a shaky breath, collected her gloves, and drew them on.

"I trust the game had a satisfactory conclusion?" Mr. Bennet was looking at his daughter with some concern; startled, Elizabeth met his gaze briefly, before blushing and lowering her eyes. There was no mistaking his meaning.

"Not exactly, Papa," she said, discomfited and embarrassed, but unable to prevent a small smile from lifting her lips.

"Hmph," grunted Mr. Bennet. "The express came at an awkward time, then?"

"Yes," she sighed. "But I believe we have reached...an understanding of sorts."

"Good!" her father smiled, squeezing her hand. "No doubt things will soon be sorted out to everybody's satisfaction." He ushered her to the door, and they stepped out into the foyer where Darcy was standing as if in shock, staring at his message. Bingley and Jane were next to him, looking worried.

"What is it?" said Elizabeth, forgetting her manners.

"My uncle - my uncle is very ill, and my cousin writes to request my immediate presence in London," Darcy said numbly. He looked at her apologetically. "I must go tomorrow, early."

"Of course," said Elizabeth, trying to ignore the weight of disappointment bearing down on her.

Caroline Bingley appeared as if by magic, somehow alerted to the circumstances. "Mr. Darcy, are you all right? It is not bad news, I trust!"

"Darcy has to go to town tomorrow, Caroline," said Bingley, trying to spare his friend all he could. "His uncle is very ill."

"Oh, how dreadful!" Miss Bingley put a hand over her mouth, so affected was she by the tidings. She also managed to dart a gloating look at Elizabeth as she went on benevolently, "But of course you must go. And we should all follow you as soon as may be, to afford you such support as you will surely need. Shouldn't we, Charles."

Bingley looked at his sister irritably, torn between his desire to keep her away from Darcy and his own wish to provide just that assistance.

"Of course you must go," said Jane, speaking only to Charles. Her voice was calming, yet her compassion was heartfelt, and Darcy looked around at her gratefully.

"Yes," said Bingley, his annoyance defused by Jane's sweetness. "Yes, we must all go. Where is Fossett? Preparations should begin immediately."

"Surely they can wait until the morning," said Miss Bingley reasonably. "Mr. Darcy will leave early, but we may follow later."

"You may follow later, but I will go early, with Darcy!" said Bingley firmly. "And now, if you will excuse me, I must see Fossett, and return to my guests."

Jane gave Elizabeth a troubled glance as she and Bingley walked back to the ballroom. Darcy's face was pale, and Elizabeth longed to comfort him as he frowned at his letter again. She could not touch him, in public as they were, but she could still offer words.

"Mr. Darcy, I am truly sorry about your uncle. Is it very serious, do you think?"

"I am afraid it is, Miss Bennet," he looked up, thankful for her interest and sympathy. "My cousin would not have called for me unless..." He faltered, unwilling to give voice to what must come.

"Come, sir," said Miss Bingley, determined to participate. "You must think positively. He will recover."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Anger at Caroline Bingley's insensitivity sparked in her dark eyes, but she bit back her words. Darcy did not need to hear arguments or spitefulness at present.

"Come, ladies," said Mr. Bennet, gripping Elizabeth's arm as if aware of how close she had come to telling Miss Bingley exactly what she thought of her. "Mr. Darcy is suffering enough - let us leave him to his preparations. My deepest sympathies, sir," he said quietly to Darcy. Elizabeth looked at Darcy unhappily, but could think of nothing more to say as her father led her away, preceded by a reluctant Miss Bingley. They had almost reached the door, when Darcy called out,

"Miss Bennet - could I have a brief word?"

"A moment, Lizzy, and then in you come," said her father quietly as he released her arm.

"Yes, Papa," she said meekly, as she walked back toward Darcy. She stood a respectable distance from him, and regarded him gravely, waiting for him to speak.

He seemed to have difficulty finding words. "Miss Bennet, I - I will not be seeing you until you return from your tour of the Lakes."

"Yes," she said, looking away. "Yes, at least six weeks."

He swallowed, and fiddled with his ring. "When you return, I should very much like to continue our conversation. The one we were having - not long ago."

She raised her eyes to his, and said earnestly, "I would like that very much, Mr. Darcy."

His expression lightened faintly, and he bowed deeply. "Farewell, Miss Bennet. Give my apologies to your family."

"Farewell, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, a lump rising in her throat. He gave her a heartfelt look, then turned on his heel, and strode towards the stairs.

Elizabeth and Jane travelled back to Longbourn that evening in far lower spirits than either could have anticipated. Their sisters and mother were too much in uproar to take much notice, except Mary, who only looked at them both strangely, but said nothing. Mr. Bennet, too, was unusually silent. There were no teasing remarks about young gentlemen, or meaningful glances. When they reached home, he went straight to his library. The two elder girls shared a brief conversation before retiring, but nothing of real import was said - both were too preoccupied, unready yet to share their thoughts. It was with relief that Elizabeth closed her bedroom door that night, shutting out the rest of her family - especially the sound of Lydia laughing raucously up and down the corridor.

Alone with her thoughts, she dressed for bed, wrapped a shawl around her shoulders, and went to her window seat. She pulled back the curtain and looked out; the single candle she had left burning did not disrupt her view of the night sky, and she sighed. Whatever had possessed her earlier? When Mr. Darcy kissed her she should have pushed him away. A proper lady, such as he deserved, would not have allowed such liberties. Most definitely a proper lady would not have grabbed him by the collar and kissed him herself! Why had she not had more self-control? Her unseeing gaze softened as the reasons came to mind: Because he still loves me. Because he smelled so good. Because it felt so...wonderful. Because I love him.

"And now you know it," she muttered to herself. "Now, when you will not see him again for more than a month. And when he is in London, he will tell himself that it is all for the best, that a gentleman of consequence should not be involved with someone as - as unladylike and uncontrolled as me." Heaving a sigh, she drew the curtain, and went to her dressing table. The face that greeted her in the mirror was frowning worriedly. Elizabeth rubbed her forehead, and rolled her eyes at herself.

"Lizzy," she said solemnly, though her eyes glinted with their customary good humour, "You are overreacting. If he loves you enough to voluntarily associate with your awful family, one little kiss is going to do no harm! Go to bed."

So saying, she took her own advice; but it was some time before she could sleep. Her memory kept replaying a certain scene, and when she finally drifted off, it was with a smile on her face.

Chapter Thirty - Travels

Elizabeth woke early the next morning, still plagued with vague anxieties over her behaviour with Mr. Darcy. She sat in bed, her thoughts wavering from confidence to self-condemnation, until she could bear it no more. Jane! she thought, springing out of bed and seizing a shawl. I will tell her everything, and she will tell me how foolish I am being.

"Oh, Lizzy," smiled her sister, while Elizabeth sat frowning on Jane's bed after a lengthy confession. "You are overreacting. Mr. Darcy loves you - and I am sure that he knows you well enough by now to see your...affection as cause for hope, not reason to give you up altogether!"

Elizabeth let out a heartfelt sigh. "Yes. Yes, you are perfectly right. I know I am overreacting, but it is so good to hear it from someone else." She gave Jane a wry smile, and the sisters leaned forward to embrace one another. "Thank you, Jane. I believe I feel a little better now."

"You did your best to encourage me when...when Charles went away," said Jane softly, "And you were right. Now it is my turn to do the same for you." She squeezed Elizabeth's hand, and they looked at one another affectionately.

The post arrived as the family were at breakfast together, and to Elizabeth's surprise one of the letters was for her. It was from Aunt Gardiner, and Elizabeth opened it immediately.

"Well?" said Mrs. Bennet eagerly. "What does it say? I hope they have not decided to cancel the trip altogether!" This, of course, was exactly what she was hoping for, so that Elizabeth could be available when Mr. Darcy returned.

"No," said Elizabeth pensively, perusing the letter. "My Aunt writes to apologise that due to his business, my Uncle can only take three weeks instead of six - they have settled on touring an area a little closer to home, as they fear we will not be able to do the Lakes justice in the shortened time Uncle has for travelling. Oh, how ironic!" She looked over at her father, and said, "It appears we will be going to Derbyshire."

Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows. "Derbyshire!" he smiled. "By all accounts a most scenic place, to be sure."

"Why!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennet, "Is that not where Mr. Darcy has his estate? Now Lizzy, you must make every effort to persuade them to take you there - Pemberley, it is called. He may even go there, you know, after he is finished in London -"

"Mama!" Elizabeth interjected, giving her mother a disbelieving stare. "I will do no such thing."

Kitty and Lydia grinned at one another.

"I should love to see Pemberley," said Lydia, "And Lizzy would love to see - "

"Lydia!" snapped Jane, in such a sharp tone that the entire family looked at her in surprise. She continued self-consciously, "Mr. Darcy will quite likely lose one of his close relatives very soon. This is not the time to be teasing about him."

"Yes, Jane is perfectly right," said Mrs. Bennet firmly, glaring at Lydia. "You should not be disrespectful to Mr. Darcy. For he may be part of the family soon - "

"Excuse me," said Elizabeth in irritation, and she got up from the table. As she left the room she could hear Kitty and Lydia giggling, and Mary starting to lecture them; she rolled her eyes, and decided to go for a walk.

The week before the Gardiners' arrival passed away quickly, the more so as the novelty of considering their sister in love with Mr. Darcy wore thin for the younger Miss Bennets. Elizabeth was most pleased when it did, as their constant reminders made his absence and the reason for it harder to think on - but soon she would be amply distracted, on holiday with her two favourite relatives, seeing new places and admiring the many natural beauties for which Derbyshire was famous. At last the day came, and the carriage bearing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and their four children rolled to a halt near the main entrance of Longbourn.

The Bennet family greeted the new arrivals effusively and ushered them inside. The children were to stay until their parents' return in three weeks, and one more night was all that separated Elizabeth from the long-awaited tour. That night, however, was destined to be a long and active one. There was Jane's engagement and Mr. Bingley to be discussed, and the regiment's departure, and Mrs. Bennet could not restrain herself from mentioning Elizabeth's friendship with Mr. Darcy, accompanied by meaningful glances and nods, several times. Mrs. Gardiner's curiosity was greatly piqued, and she managed to take Elizabeth aside for an explanation later in the evening.

Somewhat awkwardly, Elizabeth gave her a general outline of the talk she and Darcy had had at Hunsford concerning Mr. Wickham, and how several misconceptions had been cleared up, and that her opinion of Mr. Darcy had undergone a rather drastic change since last she had spoken to her aunt.

"My goodness!" said Mrs. Gardiner, on hearing the unexpected tale. "Well, I must say I am gratified that Mr. Darcy has turned out to be a decent fellow after all - for it was a shame to think that old Mr. Darcy's son had not inherited his character. And Wickham - an unworthy rascal all along! One never would have thought it of him, judging by his manners."

"No, indeed not," Elizabeth admitted. "I was completely taken in, and was deeply ashamed when I realised the truth. But he is gone now; Colonel Forster dismissed him from the regiment before they left for Brighton, and we need not bother about him again."

"I am glad to hear it," smiled her aunt. She did not press for more, as her niece seemed uncomfortable with the topic; but there would be plenty of opportunities for further investigation on the journey.

The next morning they were off; and the ensuing fortnight was full of delights. Grand houses, historic towns, stunning natural beauties and a constant stream of more than pleasant scenery filled their days. For companionship, better could not be wanted; each was of a cheerful temper, determined to be pleased, and the affection and intelligence of all could supply entertainments aplenty if the external attractions should fall short. The weather was fine, and travelling easy and satisfying. Elizabeth enjoyed herself beyond her expectations, and as for the Gardiners, through subtle discussion they were very pleased to learn two things; that their niece was not upset over Wickham's disgrace, as they had feared, and that she was well on the way to being in love with Mr. Darcy.

Shortly before they were due to reach the little town of Lambton, where Mrs. Gardiner had grown up, the two reached a secret decision - to make every effort to convince Elizabeth that they should visit Pemberley. If the owner was home, well and good, for they were mightily curious to meet him and see if Mrs. Bennet's implications had been right - that the master of Pemberley was in love with their Lizzy. If he was not at home, no matter, for seeing the beautiful house and grounds may help Elizabeth to know her own heart. Arguments were prepared in private, in case Elizabeth should prove reluctant; and so their course was chosen.

Chapter Thirty-One - Pemberley

Lambton was a charming village, and its inn boasted a fine rustic ambience as well as very friendly staff. Elizabeth was quite delighted with it, and well prepared to spend several days in the area visiting her aunt's old acquaintances and famous local haunts. To her distress, however, Mrs. Gardiner raised the subject of Pemberley on their first evening at Lambton, praising its grounds as she had praised no others. Mr. Gardiner expressed a great desire to see the place, and Mrs. Gardiner was so pleased to hear her husband's sentiments that Elizabeth felt curmudgeonly indeed to cast any pall upon their expectations. Her reluctance, however, was genuine; though she could not give them her true reasons, she remarked on how awkward she should feel, intruding upon the family's privacy. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner exchanged glances, and rather than argue with this response Mr. Gardiner at once endeavoured to discover whether the family were at home for the summer. The servant of whom he enquired ensured him they were not, and Elizabeth felt a surge of relief. Although Darcy had openly declared his love for her, Elizabeth's own inner state was one of insecurity; for now that she knew what her own feelings were, she had the dreadful feeling that something would go wrong - that some further misunderstanding would separate them. Coming to Pemberley without an invitation, even as a tourist, might give him the impression that she was in fact pursuing him for his wealth in the manner of Miss Bingley; especially seeing as he was as yet unaware of the depth of her regard for him. But all was well, he was obviously still in London dealing with the sad business of his uncle. A great desire to see Darcy's celebrated estate came over her, and she smiled, and agreed to the plan. The Gardiners smiled also, though not for the reasons their niece assumed.

They drove the five miles to Pemberley the very next morning, blessed once again by fine weather and enchanted by the woods and views they found as they progressed through the park. At their first sight of the house itself, Mr. Gardiner asked the driver to stop for a moment so that they could take in the prospect with a little more leisure - for it was indeed a scene to be savoured rather than glimpsed. A handsome stone house stood on a rise, flanked by wooded hills, and in front of it a stream flowed, swelled almost to a small lake by some clever but inconspicuous artifice. A well kept lawn and walking paths led from the house to the water, and gardens added colour and texture to the picture. The whole place was a display of natural beauty merged with subtle, tastefully executed workmanship such as Elizabeth had never before seen. She was utterly delighted, and could not help but wonder if someday she would live here herself; a sacrifice she could bear with equanimity!

At last they reached the house, and applied to see inside. The housekeeper, an elderly lady named Reynolds - who was much less fine and more civil than Elizabeth had any notion of finding her - ushered them through a series of grand, handsome rooms, each possessing a richness and elegance that quite outdid those of the famed Rosings Park. The views were wonderful, the taste exquisite. They could find no fault with any of it, and Mrs. Reynold's warm, straightforward manner only added to the pleasure of their tour. When Mrs. Gardiner stopped to admire several miniatures above a fireplace, Mrs. Reynolds stepped forward and began explaining whom they represented; a younger Mr. Wickham was there, and alongside him a younger Darcy.

"Oh, very handsome," said Mrs. Gardiner with interest. "Is it like him, Lizzy?"

The housekeeper looked at Elizabeth with surprise. "Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?"

"A little," said Elizabeth, colouring.

"She is very modest, Mrs. Reynolds," corrected Mr. Gardiner with a smile. "My niece knows Mr. Darcy well - her elder sister is to marry Mr. Bingley, whom I understand to be one of Mr. Darcy's great friends."

Mrs. Reynolds regarded all three with even more approval and respect. "And so he is, and such a fine young gentleman! Then you must be Miss Bennet," she smiled at Elizabeth. "Miss Darcy writes to tell me all her news, and she has mentioned you several times."

"Oh," Elizabeth was clearly embarrassed, but forced a smile. "Yes. Mr. Bingley is one of our neighbours, so we have seen quite a lot of all of them since my sister's engagement."

"Oh, how lovely," said Mrs. Reynolds, quite taken with the young lady of whom both Darcys had had much to say - though she did not reveal this fact, so as not to cause Miss Bennet further discomfiture. "And you, sir? Have you met my master?"

"No, my wife and I have not yet had that pleasure," said Mr. Gardiner cheerfully. "But we have heard glowing reports of him from more than one quarter."

"Oh! I have no doubt of that," said the faithful Mrs. Reynolds, "For he is kindness itself, and such a handsome young man - is he not, Miss Bennet?"

"Yes," agreed Elizabeth, beginning to feel amused. "He is most kind, and very handsome."

Mrs. Reynolds continued on in a similar vein as she escorted the party through several more rooms, recounting a bit of the family history and personal details that she would not have vouchsafed to the average visitor. These, she suspected, were somewhat different.

As the tour drew to an end, Mrs. Reynolds remarked, "But what a pity you came today and not tomorrow; for the master is due to return from London that very day, and with him will be Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley, and some others."

Elizabeth's eyes widened a little at the thought of this narrow escape; but Mrs. Reynolds had not finished speaking.

"If it is agreeable to you, I will tell the master that you are here, staying in Lambton, and I have no doubt he will be so pleased to hear it that he will visit you himself!"

"By all means," smiled Mrs. Gardiner, "That would suit us very well indeed, and it is very generous of you to offer it."

"No trouble at all, ma'am," said the genial housekeeper. "I hope to see you all again soon - and please feel welcome to walk about the grounds wherever you please, and if you like we would be happy to serve you some tea before you go back."

And with copious thanks, their tour of the house was over, and they found themselves outside.

Mrs. Reynolds watched them surreptitiously from a window until they had wandered far enough away, then went to find the butler.

"Henry! Did you notice that party that was just here?"

"Of course," said he, looking at Mrs. Reynolds curiously. "Why, what of it?"

The housekeeper's eyes gleamed. "That, my dear Henry, was Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her aunt and uncle."

"Miss Bennet! Really?" said the butler in astonishment, and he immediately hurried to a front window, hoping for one more glimpse of the young lady that had aroused so much speculation in the senior servants' quarters.

As for the young lady herself, she had walked down toward the river ahead of the Gardiners, her mind awhirl. Mr. Darcy would be here tomorrow, and in all likelihood a formal invitation to Pemberley would soon follow. She was taken aback by the suddenness of it, but was not entirely displeased; indeed, she realised, she would be most happy to see him, despite the awkwardness of the coincidence. She smiled to herself as she looked down at the flowing water, certain that the next few days should prove interesting indeed, both to herself and to her companions. Thinking of her aunt and uncle, she turned her head briefly to see where they walked; they were still further up the gentle rise that led to the house, enjoying the view. Her attention was caught by a rustling sound, as if someone was approaching through the bushes to her left; in the next instant, a tall figure appeared not ten yards away, moving in her direction. Elizabeth's heart seemed to freeze in her chest, for she knew instantly who it was, though she had never imagined to see him in the state that now confronted her - clad only in shirt, trousers and boots, and obviously having just come from a swim.

"Mr. Darcy!" she exclaimed, her astonishment evident in her tone.

Darcy stopped and raised his head, utterly bewildered at hearing the one voice he least expected to hear. "Miss Bennet!" he managed to say, hardly able to close his mouth in order to form the words. They stared at one another, and the cheeks of each reddened; she, at having been caught without warning in the very situation she had been hoping to avoid; he, because he was dripping wet and only half dressed.

Mr. Darcy appeared to be at a total loss, so Elizabeth, whose sense of humour was beginning to recover along with her composure, took it upon herself to speak first.

"It is very good to see you, Mr. Darcy...though completely unexpected. We were told you were in London, or we would not have presumed - "

"No, no," Darcy interrupted hurriedly. "You...er...Forgive me, Miss Bennet, you took me somewhat by surprise."

Elizabeth looked at him, smiling despite herself. "It is a fine day, is it not?"

This reference to the weather made him smile in his turn, and he held out his dripping arms ruefully, glancing down at his rather informal appearance.

"Indeed, a very fine day. I have just returned this instant myself - I rode ahead, and, er - "

"You felt the need for some refreshment," Elizabeth suggested.

"Yes. Exactly." He looked down for a moment, and Elizabeth could not resist the opportunity to look more closely at what was revealed by his damp shirt, as it clung to his broad shoulders and shapely torso. She began to feel a little warm, so she moved her gaze back to his face, and the dark curls that fell onto his forehead. This was not much better, as she was strongly tempted to take the one or two steps required so that she would be close enough to brush those curls back for him. She cleared her throat and looked away, wishing that her aunt and uncle were not in plain view.

"You are not touring the Lakes, then," said Darcy suddenly.

"No," said Elizabeth, meeting his gaze with a diffident smile. "No, not long after you left for London I learned that my uncle was obliged to shorten the trip - and that they had decided on a visit to Derbyshire, instead."

"Well. I, er. Miss Bennet, if you would excuse me," he said awkwardly.

"Of course," she said quietly, beginning to fear that what she had interpreted as a charming shyness was in fact a desire to be rid of her. But he did not leave, as she expected. He stood up straighter, squared his shoulders, and took a step closer to her.

"Miss Bennet," he said, matching her quietness.

"Yes?"

"Please forgive my appalling lack of manners. It is very good to see you, too."

Elizabeth's eyes seemed drawn to his; how could she have mistaken that intent, absorbing gaze for disapproval?

"I will not be ten minutes," he said. "Then perhaps I could show you around the house?"

Now it was her turn for awkwardness. "Thank you, but your housekeeper...that is, my aunt and uncle -"

"Some tea, then?" He was clearly determined to make a fuss, so she gave in.

"Yes, thank you. That would be very nice."

He smiled warmly. "Then I will see you inside, directly." And with a brief bow, he was gone, almost running up the slope towards the manor.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, who had been watching avidly from a polite distance, now approached their niece eagerly.

"The man himself, I presume?" said Mr. Gardiner with raised brows.

"Yes," smiled Elizabeth, "And I hope you don't mind, but he has invited us to take tea with him, and I have accepted on your behalf."

"Why, of course we don't mind," said Mrs. Gardiner. "You know we have been very keen to meet him - he has quite a reputation to uphold."

Elizabeth laughed. "I hope you are keen, for the invitation applies immediately. He will join us inside shortly."

Chapter Thirty-two - An Understanding

Mrs. Reynolds welcomed them back as though they had been gone for at least a day. The Gardiners were pleased to notice how many warm glances she directed at Elizabeth, and more than once their eyes met in silent communication over this sign of her master's regard for their niece - or at least a faithful servant's hope of his regard. They were shown into a beautiful sitting room, and told that Mr. Darcy would be with them directly; a servant brought in a tray.

Darcy entered the room a few minutes later, very slightly out of breath and properly attired, though his hair was still a little disorderly. His guests, who had been talking quietly, rose to greet him.

"Miss Bennet," he said warmly, and bowed. "Allow me to apologise once more for my manners at our - previous meeting." A subtle smile pulled at his lips, and he looked toward the Gardiners. "Would you do me the honour of introducing your friends?"

"Of course," said Elizabeth politely, though a smile was not far away from her lips either. "Mr. Darcy, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner. Mr. Gardiner is my mother's brother."

"Quite delighted, sir," said Mr. Gardiner, offering his hand, which Darcy shook firmly.

"You are very welcome to Pemberley," said Darcy with feeling, taking in all of them with his gaze. "Please, sit down and make yourselves at home."

With this easy beginning the four entered into conversation. Elizabeth was exceedingly glad to be in the company of relatives that could give her no cause for embarrassment (for a change) and quite happily left the bulk of conversation to them, content to watch and listen for the most part. She wanted her aunt and uncle to like Mr. Darcy, and was feeling a little nervous as a result; she was also feeling more than a little perturbed about the entire situation. The circumstances of their last meeting in Hertfordshire had been fraught with emotion and significance, and reduced any casual approach to awkwardness. She very much wanted to speak with him alone - and yet, she did not want to. His very presence made her feel vulnerable and uncertain; but at last she recognised her aunt's knowing eye casting in her direction, and knew she had better speak. Most of the small talk had been long ago dealt with, so she chose instead a matter which had been weighing on her mind.

"Are all your family well, Mr. Darcy?" She felt discomfited at raising what must be a delicate subject, but felt he would understand.

"Georgiana is very well, I thank you - she will be arriving at Pemberley tomorrow, with Bingley and his family."

"Oh," said Elizabeth, pleased but not satisfied with this response. "And your cousins, sir? Are they well?"

Understanding dawned on Darcy's face. He could not prevent a certain melancholy from entering his expression, but he looked warmly at Elizabeth. "Thank you for asking, they are well." He cleared his throat, and continued. "My cousin John is lately come into his inheritance."

For a moment she could not think of what to say. "I am ...very sorry to hear that."

"Thank you," said Darcy simply, his gaze so full of regard that Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner exchanged a glance. Elizabeth looked down, and Darcy went on: "I know Georgiana and Bingley would love to see you again, Miss Bennet, and to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. If you are still to be in the area, I would like to extend an invitation to you all to dine with us tomorrow evening. If it is not inconvenient, of course."

"You do us great honour, Mr. Darcy," smiled Mrs. Gardiner. "We have no fixed engagements - we should be delighted to attend."

"Excellent," said Darcy, gratified at the look of pleasure on all their faces - especially Elizabeth's. "I understand you have already received a tour from my housekeeper - but I wonder, would you be at all interested in seeing some of the grounds?"

"Indeed, sir," answered Mr. Gardiner with enthusiasm. "My wife and I love the outdoors, and Lizzy will not refuse, I am sure."

Elizabeth's eyes had lit quite involuntarily at the prospect of seeing the marvellous paths and views of Pemberley, and in the company of its master. Darcy, catching her expression, smiled.

"In all the time I have known her, Miss Bennet has never once refused a walk out of doors, even in conditions that would make others quail. I feel we may safely rely on her agreement."

"Yes," smiled Elizabeth, a little self-consciously, but not without humour. "I believe I may be persuaded to do a little exploring."

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner laughed affectionately at their niece, and Darcy rose from his seat.

"Shall we?" he gestured toward the doorway, and the party made their exit in a merry spirit.

They made their way down to the lakeside, following a charming path that wove casually through the vagaries of what once had been a rugged place; ups and downs, woods and bushes, one or two small bridges spanning minor tributaries. Elizabeth was completely captivated; around each corner some new treasure could be seen - an attractive bend in the river, or a patch of wildflowers - a noble stand of old trees, or an expanse of rich lawn. At first the two gentlemen took the lead and spoke together of sport, particularly fishing, but before long Mrs. Gardiner claimed her husband's arm for support, leaving Elizabeth and Darcy to walk side by side. It was not long before they had outdistanced their older companions, who were walking at a very leisurely pace.

Neither spoke for several minutes, nor looked at the other save for the occasional shy glance. Elizabeth felt nervous and awkward, and could not think of any light way of broaching the silence. At last Darcy spoke, his voice slightly rough.

"Your aunt and uncle seem very amiable company, Miss Bennet."

"Yes," she agreed with a relieved smile. "Indeed, there are few whose companionship I value more. My uncle is a discerning man of rare taste, Mr. Darcy, and his warehouses are very successful."

"I am pleased to hear that; perhaps I should recommend him to my sister, next time she is in town."

"I am sure he would be most grateful for such patronage, sir," said Elizabeth; Darcy was glad to see the teasing gleam in her eyes as she glanced at him.

"They prefer a slow pace while walking," he observed, for by now the Gardiners were far behind them, and could not be seen at all.

"My aunt is not a great walker, though she is fond of the beauties of nature. Too much time in London, perhaps."

"Perhaps," agreed Darcy. Silence fell for a few moments, but then he continued: "Speaking of London, Miss Bennet, I believe I owe you a debt of thanks."

Elizabeth looked at him curiously. "For what?"

To her surprise, his cheeks coloured. "Well, you may apprehend that these last weeks in London were not the most pleasant of times for my family."

"Yes," said Elizabeth uncertainly, still waiting for an explanation.

"For me, however, they were not nearly as painful as they would otherwise have been - had I not been given a gift."

Elizabeth swallowed. "A gift, Mr. Darcy?"

"A most precious gift, Miss Bennet," he said quietly, looking at her. "The gift of hope."

It was now Elizabeth's turn to blush. "Oh," she said, quite unable to think of a proper response.

Darcy stopped walking, and gently turned Elizabeth to face him. "Please tell me you have not changed your mind, Elizabeth." His expression was anxious; abruptly she realised the ambiguity of her behaviour since his arrival. How had it appeared to him?

"Fitzwilliam," she said, with a sigh. Her eyes met his, and she gave in to temptation, reaching up to brush an unruly curl off his forehead. "I must confess to you, something has changed."

Darcy could not speak; he could only wait, apprehensive, for her to finish. Was she going to insist on friendship after all?

"Since that evening at Netherfield, I have come to fully understand what I believe my heart has known for quite some time."

"And that is?" Darcy demanded softly, unable to quench the fear growing inside him.

She gave him a mischievous smile, and gestured. "Come here, sir."

Obediently, he stepped closer. She reached up to his face again, and stroked his cheek. Her smile had softened, and she was looking at him affectionately; Darcy could not resist when, very gently, she pulled him down until she could reach his mouth with her own. Her kiss was soft and lingering, but after a pause for breath it deepened into something more seductive. Darcy responded eagerly, slipping his hands around her waist to pull her closer as he lost himself in the warmth and softness of her mouth. Elizabeth gave a low moan and tangled her fingers in his hair, giving herself over to the delicious sensations that surged through her as their slow, thorough kiss began to heat her from deep inside...Slow down, Lizzy, you like this too much...The thought reached her as if from a distance, but she reluctantly took its advice and drew away from him, her breathing unsteady and her entire body feeling weak. Darcy seemed to be in a similar state; he was staring at her as though entranced, and his hand shook somewhat as he lightly brushed away one of her own errant curls. Suddenly ashamed at her own behaviour, Elizabeth lowered her gaze. She could feel herself blushing as he watched her; with a sigh, Darcy pulled her forward until her head was resting comfortably on his shoulder. His arms enfolded her almost delicately, and she closed her eyes in satisfaction. Her momentary embarrassment faded, to be replaced by certainty - he was all that she could want.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?" Darcy managed to say after a moment. She grinned into his jacket, and raised her head to look at him.

"I love you, of course," she said, and laughed at his stupidity. His expression froze for a moment as his mind made sure of what his ears had just reported; then a smile slowly dawned. Eyes shining with happiness at her words, he tightened his embrace until she had to gasp a protest. He released her, and looked searchingly at her, satisfaction radiating from every feature of his face.

"I have been waiting so long to hear you say that, I almost cannot believe that you have," he said soberly, shaking his head. "At any moment I am going to wake, in my own bed, with the sun shining through the windows."

She laughed again, low and very pleased. "Shall I pinch you, to see if you wake?"

"Pinch me?" he growled. "Come here, madam."

Grinning, she took a step backwards. "Some people may respond with alacrity to such commands - but I, alas, am not one of them."

He lunged, trying to snag her arm, but she danced back out of his reach. He lunged again, and with a small shriek she took to her heels, racing lightly down the path with Darcy in hot pursuit. His long legs gave him the advantage over a short distance, and it was not long before she was forced to a halt and imprisoned quite securely. A perfunctory struggle, punctuated with much laughter, ensured her of the hopelessness of her cause; so she relaxed into his embrace, surrendering with good grace.

"Pax, pax, you have me, sir," she said, still winded from the chase. "I give in. You are too fast."

"Hm!" Darcy grunted, panting too hard to form words with dignity.

"This feels very nice," said Elizabeth, leaning on Darcy's heaving chest and sliding her arms about his waist. "I should have let you catch me long ago."

"I am glad you did not," Darcy managed to say, his breathing at last coming under control. Before Elizabeth could ask him why, he framed her face gently with his hands, lifted her chin and kissed her breathless; then, slowly breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers. Neither could speak; Elizabeth released a heartfelt sigh and let her head fall to rest once more on Darcy's broad chest. She could hear the rapid beating of his heart, and was certain her own must be audible. Darcy was stroking her back; she had never felt so happy in her life.

"Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth," he murmured into her bonnet.

"A man of true taste and discernment," said Elizabeth, giving him a wry smile and a warm glance. At that moment she spotted movement out of the corner of her eye, and when she turned her head she could only gasp in horror. She shot out of Darcy's arms before he could react, blushing red as a beetroot - her aunt and uncle were earnestly studying the bark of an elm tree not twenty yards away. Darcy swallowed nervously, but before either could decide how to respond, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had turned and walked back the way they had come.

"Oh!" breathed Elizabeth, mortified yet seized with the urge to giggle. "How quickly they walk, after all!"

Darcy sagged back against a tree trunk. "Your aunt and uncle should be pickled in ambrosia, Lizzy. When I think of how my own relatives would have responded..." He shook his head, unable to believe that they had retreated and left their niece in his company, after what they must have witnessed.

"Truly, they are worth their weight in gold," she agreed with feeling. She looked at him, a sly gleam in her eye. "I think they must like you very much, Mr. Darcy."

"Perhaps we should walk on a little further," he said, still embarrassed. He offered his arm, and she took it with a smile.

Elizabeth held his arm firmly, and he placed one warm hand over her own. They walked close together, each slightly leaning on the other, each happily preoccupied. After a time, Elizabeth ventured a playful comment.

"Did my ears deceive me, or did you call me Lizzy just now?"

"I hope I did not offend you in doing so," he said.

"No, of course not," she said, squeezing his arm. "You surprised me a little, that is all."

"Sometimes I surprise myself," he confessed with a smile. "How much you have changed me, Lizzy."

She looked up at him, meeting a gaze of warm affection which she smiled to see, though it made her blush.

"Perhaps we have changed each other, William," she answered him. His eyes shone as she spoke his name, and he pulled her closer to his side.

"Not, I hope, in essentials," he said.

"No," she laughed. "I am still imprudent and impulsive as ever, I fear."

"As I am still silent and disagreeable in company," said Darcy.

"I do not find you so disagreeable," she scolded lightly. "Not at present, at any rate."

"You do not seem the imprudent type to me," he responded to her teasing. "At least, not right now."

They laughed at one another, quite contented, and continued their walk in companionable silence. After a short time, Elizabeth began to feel a tension in the arm she held so closely. She glanced up at his face; he seemed worried, and not a little distracted.

"What is wrong?" she asked softly. A flush rose on his cheeks; he stopped abruptly, and turned to face her, though he seemed to find it hard to hold her gaze.

"I was thinking...I wanted...Elizabeth, there is a question I have wanted to ask you for a long time, and on more than one occasion; but I find I am unaccountably nervous," he confessed with a rueful smile.

His implication filled her with joy and trepidation both at once. "Would this be the same question you wanted to ask me at Hunsford?" she asked, almost shyly.

"Yes," he breathed, clearly apprehensive.

She let out a shaky breath, then said as warmly as she could, "If it is any comfort, I would love you to ask me that question." She raised her eyes to his; what he saw there must have been a comfort indeed, as his face, though unsmiling, seemed to glow from within momentarily with the strength of his delight. He squared his shoulders.

"Elizabeth..." he began, then broke off, staring over her shoulder. His face became pale and a look of utter alarm and disbelief was in his eyes. Curious, Elizabeth turned to see what had upset him - straight into the most frightening sight of her young life.

"Miss Bennet, how wonderfully unexpected to see you here," said George Wickham, with a diffident smile. The pistol he held was pointed at her from a distance of only three yards...