Frederick's American Café

Chapter 6

Wentworth woke with a throbbing head. A quick inspection of his forehead revealed a sharp pain and blood still wet.


Hemmert had not shot him after all. He had merely brought the butt of his pistol down upon Frederick's head hard enough to knock him out. The German had then ransacked the office, looking for the combination to open the safe but, as Anne had already discovered, it was a pointless exercise.


In his frustration, he had left the place a mess. It would be best to avoid Hemmert for a while, give him a chance to cool off.


Frederick supposed he should be grateful to be alive. Maybe he was but it was hard to tell with such a headache.


He picked himself up off the floor of his office and made his way to the kitchen. Harville stopped him almost immediately to exclaim over his injury, fretting over him like a mother hen.


Frederick explained that he was on his way to see Harville's wife, with a brief detour to Charlie to grab a bottle or two of whisky for medicinal purposes.


"You can't go into the café looking like that, boss!" Harville warned. "What will our customers think when they see you? Let me go to the bar while you take the back way to the kitchen."


He might be a fool with principles, but he recognized the soundness of Harville's suggestion and followed it.


His cook was surprised to see him come in through the back door in such a state. She clucked and fussed rather like her husband before she patched him up as well as she could. The stitches were not her best work but she didn't let him drink his way through it and he had squirmed more than usual.


As she wrapped a bandage around his head, he told her to pass onto Lulu the invitation to join him in the Presidential suite tonight. He had never bothered sleeping upstairs in one of the guest rooms before, but he'd had a hard day and he could use a little droit de seigneur right about now. Mrs. Harville didn't approve of Lulu, not since she had caught the French singer flirting with Mr. Harville; odds were that Lulu wouldn't get the message, but Frederick's head probably hurt too much anyway.


He took the two opened bottles of whisky sent from the bar and ducked out the back way to his room to change into a clean shirt. The laundry really was making a killing this week. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and decided to avoid mirrors over the next few days. Halfway presentable once more, he snuck in through the front door and got the key to the suite from Harville. The man wanted to chitchat about what had happened to Frederick's forehead and whether the hotel should make a report to Hemmert, but all Frederick wanted to do was go upstairs and lie down. He wasn't trying to be rude but he couldn't help it.


He started up the stairs with a spring in his step but quickly rethought it when his head started pounding. Revising his plan, he climbed each tread slowly. It took longer and he could hear the mattress calling to him, but he was silent as a cat and his head did not feel any worse.


The top of the stairs ended abruptly. People could turn left or right to reach their rooms. Two steps below the top, Frederick heard noises and stopped to listen.


The sounds were of giggling, fumbling with keys, and kissing. After taking a moment to decipher the sounds, he clearly heard a man -- Wilkes! -- whisper, "I never thought this night would come!"


Frederick mentally groaned. The last thing he needed right now was to see Anne's husband pawing at her and carrying her over the threshold for their wedding night. He leaned against the wall and shut his eyes, waiting for the happy couple to clear the hall.


While the newlyweds were still slobbering over each other, he felt a gentle tap on his arm. He propped one eye open to see what was going on and saw Anne standing on the step below, looking up at him with concern writ deeply across her face.


He blinked and stared at her with both eyes as he tried to figure out who was with Wilkes, and what kind of man cheated on his wedding night.


Then came a quiet snicker that sounded like Russell Elliot. Had Frederick only imagined he had been listening to Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes when he had, in fact, overheard Russell instead? And who was with Russell? The only logical answer was Lulu, which would have ended Frederick's hope for the evening had he been serious about it.


However, it removed any squeamishness he had about looking upon the pair.


He poked his head into the hall to confirm his hypothesis. He was completely unprepared for what he saw.


It was indeed Russell Elliot, and it was also Guillaume Wilkes. They were grasping each other, embracing tightly, like lovers.


Frederick immediately pulled his head back into the stairway in a panic, nearly dropping the bottles he carried. Anne's hand covered his mouth before he could make a sound. Her face betrayed none of the surprise he felt. He started to speak but she merely increased the pressure from her hand.


Time passed, maybe a minute. The men in the hall finally unlocked a door and disappeared into their hotel room.


Anne released her hold on him. "What the devil is going on here?" he hissed angrily.


"We can talk in private," she replied, her eyes promising a full accounting.


As he had been on his way to a room, and as going down and up the stairs one more time tonight seemed like one time too many, he took her to the Presidential suite on the opposite end of the hall from the room now occupied by Wilkes and Elliot.


Anne's answers were not immediately forthcoming. She began by locking the door and walking through the suite, shutting the curtains, looking under the bed and peeking in the wardrobe and small en-suite bath.


When she was confident of their privacy, she faced him once more. "What would you like to know?"


"You're a spy." It was the only thing that made his day make any sense at all.


Anne blinked, momentarily taken aback. "I was not expecting you to lead with that."


Her calm lack of a disavowal angered him. "How about, did you realize your husband was having an affair with your brother when you married him?"


“Of course. I wouldn’t have married him otherwise.” She was matter-of-fact as she began pacing the room. “I’ve always known Russell was special. It's just that I never thought he’d find someone to make him truly happy. And then he met Guillaume, and it was an immediate and profound change for him. But then Russell got scared it wasn't going to work: they would get caught, or Guillaume wouldn't be able to tolerate the danger or suspense. Russell was going to give him up, you know.


“It reminded me so much of you and Rome; he was about to make the same mistake I did. I couldn’t let him do it,” she said, slowing her steps and thinking too much of her own past. “It was Guillaume who came up with the idea of immigrating to England but England refused to admit him. We were unable to use our contacts to cut through the red tape, and Guillaume’s position in Alexandria was becoming more and more precarious.”


She shook her head at the difficulties they had faced. “In the end, it made everything so much simpler if I just married him. Being my husband guarantees him citizenship. He can move to England and live at Kellynch for the duration of the war, and no one will suspect a thing. And when it’s over, really over, they’ll have each other.”


“And you’re okay with this... arrangement?”


Her smile now was sad, wistful. "It's not like I had hopes for my own marital bliss. I walked away from love once; I’m not supposed to get a second chance."


That last line was meant as an apology for him but he still felt too bitter to swallow it. “This is the kind of man you marry? Guillaume Wilkes is a --”


"Keep your voice down," she cautioned him. "If anyone finds out--"


"The Gestapo already believe that Russell is a spy and Wilkes is a Jew. There's not much room for worse."


She betrayed the first flicker of panic. "How do you know that?"


"Hemmert confided in me just before he tried to cave in my skull for not opening the safe to him."


Every line of his appearance confirmed this as truth. She stepped forward and reached out a hand to his forehead but stopped herself. She had already hurt him enough. "I'm so very sorry. I meant to spare you pain all those years ago. Seeing you suffer now makes all that sacrifice seem meaningless."


Frederick's mouth twisted in a frown. "Don't tell me you did anything for me. Don't tell me I meant anything more to you than a convenient prop. You used me, Anne; you and Russell both. And when you were done with me you sent me on my way without a backward glance."


"Freddy, that's not true, not a word of it. I had to cut out my heart to give you up. That's the only way I could keep going, that's the only choice I had."


He did not bother to speak his disbelief but she read it in his looks all the same.


"Freddy, please understand me," pleaded Anne. "When you proposed, I didn't think about my answer. I didn't need to. I wanted to marry you more than anything else I had ever wanted."


"But you changed your mind quick enough."


"That's not what happened," she disagreed. "Russell told... Well, names don't matter. Suffice it to say that there was a man living in Rome whom we could call upon for aid if we needed it in the course of our activities. He was well-connected with members of the Italian government but his loyalties were completely with England. Russell told him that you and I had decided to get married and this man called me into his office, such as it was, for a long chat. He wanted to know how well I knew you, whether I could trust you, whether I had already confided any secrets. When I told him I planned on quitting and moving to America with you, he disabused me of the notion. Espionage is not a career from which one can easily retire. I wasn't allowed to walk away.”


“So he’s the one who decided for you?” asked Frederick. “The one who ordered you to ditch me?” It made it no better to know that it was not Russell Elliot but some faceless Englishman.


Anne was quiet. Her face was stony and vulnerable by turns. "It wasn't that simple. I don't think I can explain it satisfactorily. In the end, I made the decision. I thought it was for the best. I made the sacrifice for Russell, and England, and you too."


This made him angry. "Don't tell me you did it for me!"


"I couldn't walk away; they made that clear to me,” Anne pleaded with him, taking a step or two closer to him. “Which meant I'd continue as before: long periods of tedium interspersed with moments of danger, and all of it covered by the pall of secrecy. Going to America, even briefly, was out of the question. Imagine it, Freddy: friends I'd never let you meet, whole swaths of my life I'd never discuss. Out of nowhere, I'd disappear for a couple days or weeks and then return with nothing to say for myself, like it never happened. How would you have stood it?”


He saw it from her perspective and felt his anger softening. “I would’ve figured it out eventually.”


"Yes, but what if you weren’t the only one?” she asked quietly. “This is a brutish business, and there’s all sorts of stories of family and friends being hurt or killed. Sometimes it’s just an accident, just the wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time, the sort of thing that can happen to anybody in a war. But at other times, it is well-planned, almost surgical. I was forbidden from telling you the whole truth. You would have been defenseless. If anything had happened to you, I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself.”


She reached up and loosely fingered the bandage wrapped around his head. “And that’s the grand irony of it,” she admitted. “Had I realized it wouldn’t have made a difference, I would never have given you up.”


Anne was giving him a look that Frederick recognized from the Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi. One afternoon, they had stood before the fountain and emptied their pockets, tossing coins into the water to wish for a kiss.


Finally he spoke. “Nineteen, four, twenty-six.”


As romantic gestures went, it didn’t appear to go very far. Anne knit her brows and looked at him with concern. “Freddy, are you concussed?”


“Nineteen, four, twenty-six is the combination to the safe,” he explained. “Mrs. Wilkes, you need to leave. Hemmert will surely be here first thing in the morning to take you all into custody until his warrants arrive on Thursday. If you don’t leave now, you may not get another chance.”


“I can’t abandon the others, and I can’t take them with me," reasoned Anne. "Russell is hardly in any condition to wander in the desert right now; he's not fully recovered from the last time. And Elizabeth would turn us in before she’d ever consent to such a thing."


"And your husband?" Frederick prompted. He felt the need to stress Anne's relationship with the man. Little as it meant, it was too easy to forget just now. Opportunity had crept up on him and he was practically holding her in his arms as it was.


"You expect me to march down the hall and inform him that he needs to cut short his wedding night?" She lifted an eyebrow mischievously as Frederick tried not to look uncomfortable with the question.


Before he could come up with a reply, she continued, "Besides, you said it yourself the other day: you're the only one who knows the combination. When Hemmert forces you to open the safe tomorrow, he'll know you helped us if I empty it tonight. Don't provoke him. You're in enough trouble as it is with him and I don’t want you hurt any more."


"Am I supposed to hand you over to him instead?" asked he. "No, Anne, that's not happening. You need to go. Get your things from the safe. I'll have to involve Mrs. Harville, but we can hide you in the cellar until we can smuggle you back on the train to Cairo."


“Don’t involve Mrs. Harville, and don’t worry about us. We've been in tight places before; we know how to handle ourselves. It's yourself you should be worried about. If Hemmert suspects you of helping us, even if you're innocent, you could get in big trouble, Freddy. Stay safe. Now that I know where to find you I plan on coming back here one day, all by myself, just to make sure you're staying out of trouble.”


"Just you?" he asked, noticing that detail.


"I couldn't possibly bring my sister; after this trip, I doubt she'll go abroad ever again. And as a known spy, it isn't smart for Russell to wander far from home. And I'm afraid that after all the pains we've taken to get Guillaume into England, it would be ungrateful for him to leave it. No, I shall be quite alone next time. Promise me you'll take care until we see each other again?"


“I promise.” He kissed her, and six long years came rushing back.

Chapter 16

Beth was assiduous in helping her friends, including newer friends like Cressida, who was so hard to get to know. Consequently, she spent much time dancing with, and chatting to, Mr Chetwode, boosting his confidence.
“She asked me if I could support a wife, is she having a laugh at my expense?” asked Mr Chetwode, anxiously.
“Not at all,” said Beth. “A girl who has been economising in the hopes of marriage to someone who can support her in some style is going to want to know if there will be enough in the house to eat, and better yet, a servant to cook it. I’m sure Cressida is more than capable of cooking and doing housework, but I have no doubt that it might put a strain on love for her to have to do so unaided.”
“I’m a nabob,” said Mr Chetwode.
“Yes, I know that, because I can see the quality of the cloth of your clothes, and that they are cut for comfort not fashion, and the violin you play is a Stradivarius, I think. But not all people are so perspicacious, and as you do not throw your blunt around, they assume you to be fairly impecunious and buying as good clothes as you can get as an economy.”
“And wonderful Cressida thinks that? And would still marry me? I could scarcely dare believe it!” said Mr Chetwode.
“She was wondering how to confess to her parents that she wanted to marry a poor man,” said Beth, “Which is why I told her to elope with you. It might still serve. Her father might not listen to explanations once Society has made up its stupid mind about you.”
Mr Chetwode chuckled.
“And I have to say I shouldn’t be so deucedly awkward or likely to fall over myself in a quiet wedding over the anvil as I might if I had to have a big society wedding as befits an earl’s daughter,” he said. “If you don’t mind being my go-between to Cressida, I’ll go ahead and arrange it.”
“Good man,” said Beth. “Let me know of the arrangements, and I’ll tell her where and when to meet you, and persuade her to stick to no more than two band boxes.”
“Do you think she’d be likely to bring more?” said Mr Chetwode in lively horror.
“There’s no telling what girls raised to expecting silver spoons might do, as her parents are very conscious of what’s due to her consequence,” said Beth, dryly. “I have no doubt her mother would be likely to pack all the family silver and a couple of footmen to polish it, but Cressida does seem to have a practical turn of mind. She learned to cook when they were between cooks.”
“What a wonderful girl she is!” sighed Mr Chetwode, looking quite, thought Beth, like a moonling in his throes of adoration.
She left him contemplating his adoration to dance with Edward.
“What revolting faces that fellow was pulling!” he said.
“He’s in love,” said Beth, “as well as being a musician. I suspect it takes artistic people more violently than it does ordinary beings like you and me.”
“Good G-d! are you in love then?” demanded Edward, conscious of feeling guilty that he had possibly gazed on Amelia in such a rapt fashion.
Beth blushed and lowered her eyes.
“Beth!” Edward was suddenly furious with Mr Chetwode. “He ain’t worthy of you!”
“I beg your pardon?” said Beth, looking as confused as she felt.
“That Chetwode fellow you’re in love with!” said Edward forcibly.
“Whatever gave you the idea I’m in love with another woman’s man?” said Beth, indignantly. “Don’t you dare go spreading that around, or poor Cressida will be quite cast down and fear that I’m going to wreck her chances with the daft creature!”
Edward stared.
“You mean… you’re not in love with him? But you blushed when I asked!” he accused.
“You asked if I was in love, which was a slightly indelicate question, but you never mentioned Mr Chetwode, who is a pleasant companion, but not someone I should ever be in love with. I expect I might even have to tell him which inns to stay at on the Great North Road when he elopes with Cressida, he is singularly hopeless at detail,” said Beth.
“You will not. I’ll advise him,” said Edward. “Not that I know the road any further than York, but I’m sure he can improvise for the rest of the way.”
“Oh thank you, Edward, how kind you are, and how nice of you not to make a fuss about me advising them to elope!” said Beth.
“Oh, I daresay it’s the only way to unfreeze Lady Cressida,” said Edward. “And a couple of days on the road with a dreamy type like Chetwode will either show her how she has to manage him, or will send her fleeing for home to accept any choice her parents make for her.”
“I doubt she’s likely to flee,” said Beth. “It’s his brains and his music she’s interested in; I daresay she can manage to procure a hack in the rain for herself if he can’t, which is one of my criteria for a marriageable gentleman.”
“Well, it’s not hard,” said Edward.
Beth laughed.
“It’s not hard for the sort of gentleman who can also catch a waiter’s eye to be served, and who never is at a loss how to deal with a situation where a lady is in need.”
“Suppose I had not been the sort of man to manage such things?” said Edward.
“I should not have accepted your proposal,” said Beth.
“But how could you know?”
“Partly from my own observation, and partly from Aunt Letty’s stories for you, after allowing for some degree of partiality,” said Beth.
“What a dear girl you are!” said Edward.

Edward was not the only person to assume that Mr Chetwode was enamoured of Beth; for Amelia also noted this earnest conversation, and made plans accordingly, and smiled encouragingly at Mr Chetwode. As the young man was trying hard not to make a spectacle of Cressida, he cheerfully asked for an introduction to this smiling young woman, so he might dance with someone else, and hope she would not mind his clumsiness.
Amelia was not looking forward to the unhandy nature of Mr Chetwode’s dancing, but it was something to have to put up with for her plan to work.
“Oh, Mr Chetwode,” she cooed, “I could not help noticing you speaking with my friend Beth Renfield!”
“Ah?” said Mr Chetwode, hoping that his plans had not been overheard and that this female, pleasant as she seemed, did not hope to make him reconsider.
“Indeed! And seeing how much in love with her you are, I am certain that Beth is quite as much in love with you, but of course she does like a man to prove that he may be masterful you know. And your best way to win her is to wait outside her house for the ball on Friday, and hustle her into your carriage and drive straight to Gretna with her!”
Mr Chetwode made a strangled noise of mixed irritation and incomprehension. Amelia misunderstood.
“Oh, you poor man, I know, you have not the funds to undertake such an operation!” she said, with her tinkling laugh, “but I will readily give… or loan if you prefer… whatever you need, for Beth will be able to pay me back when she comes into her inheritance.”
Mr Chetwode found his voice.
“I think, Miss Hazelgrove, you are labouring under several false apprehensions,” he said. “Miss Renfield is a dear young lady who has been like a sister to me, helping me to gain the courage to ask the woman of my dreams to be mine. But I do not love her, and she does not love me, which is just as well, for her playing on the pianoforte is bearable but only just, and only if one does not have to listen to her doing more than accompaniment of equally inept people.”
Amelia stared.
“But… but I thought… your expression… when you were speaking to her…”
“Oh, but we were speaking of the incomparable… of the most beautiful and accomplished woman in the world,” said Mr Chetwode.
Amelia tittered.
“Do you make a habit of praising this female when in the company of other women?” she asked.
“Oh! No, but you asked,” said Mr Chetwode. “I do not need to discuss her, usually, for phrases of music in my head whisper about her, and then I do not have to listen or talk to any other female who is present.”
Amelia promptly left him before they reached the top of the line to dance.
“What did I say?” said Mr Chetwode to thin air, then shrugged and left the line. If this silly creature did not want to dance after all, he did not have to. He hesitated over whether he should go and sit the rest of it out with her, and decided it would be more convivial to go and find his hostess’ music room and play the music that he was writing for Cressida.
Amelia stormed off in a rage, because he had not even pretended to be attracted to her, and because he was of no use to her after all.
Well, if there was nobody she could persuade to elope with Beth Renfield, she must see which of the idiots lost too much at cards, and offer one of them a way to earn his way out of his debts.


Edward was busy puzzling over who Beth might be in love with, and whether there was a problem, that she had not asked to be released from their secret betrothal. How dare someone make Beth look so wistful as she had when she had blushed! Some idiot had not realised that Beth loved him, and was not returning her regard! It made Edward want to grind his teeth, and long to plant a facer on someone who was upsetting his Beth!
Edward suddenly realised that he was jealous, and wondered guiltily if his own behaviour had driven away a suitor before he might properly appreciate Beth.
He must speak to Letty about it.

Amelia racked her brains for who might be rakish enough to consider abducting a girl for money whom she actually knew. Her first choice fell upon Sir Leomer Byesby, who was said to gamble very deeply and to be a dangerous man. Accordingly she used her smile, and her fan to let him know that she wanted to dance with him, and managed adroitly to meet him on the dance floor before her mother might expostulate. Amelia’s mother gave her a great deal of leeway, but she would be likely to protest over so gazetted a rake as Byesby dancing with her daughter.
“What did you want of me, Miss Hazelgrove?” asked Byesby.
“La! Can it be that I wanted anything but the pleasure of a dance with you?” said Amelia, plying her fan.
“Unlikely. Why not come to the point and then we may enjoy the rest of the dance?” said Byesby.
Amelia nearly left him standing partnerless at that point, but decided to pass it off with her tinkling little laugh, that had taken her so long to achieve.
“Why, My Lord, you are blunt indeed!” she said. “Very well; you have a problem of debt, and I have a problem of a stupid girl who has somehow ensnared into betrothal the man I intend to marry. I pay you to compromise her by abducting her, and we both have no more problem. Her guardian is rich, and she is likely the sole heir.”
“What a poisonous little snake you are, to be sure,” said Byesby, his lips curling slightly in a sneer. “And which poor girl are you planning to so betray to a bridegroom most definitely not of her choosing?”
Amelia flushed.
“Are you saying you won’t do it? I can pay you all you ask!” she said.
“Mercenary as a cit, too,” said Byesby, managing to combine boredom with scornful amusement in his voice. “I am not to be bought; no gentleman would ever accept such an infamous suggestion, even if it were his last chance to stay out of the Marshalsea. You are a thoroughly unprincipled girl to even consider such a thing. Which poor girl are you hoping to enact this wickedness on?”
“I shan’t tell you, so there!” said Amelia. “How dare you call me a cit, and poisonous?”
“Because you are,” said Byesby. “Though I fancy it’s more a case of being too thoroughly spoilt to realise how wicked you are; you should have been well spanked as a child. It’s probably too late now.”
For the second time of the evening, Amelia flounced off the dance floor; and those who had been inclined to censure the behaviour of Mr Chetwode for driving her from him changed their minds to argue that a girl who left two dance partners must surely be the one at fault, since there was nothing wrong with Byesby save a fatal attraction to gambling and a fatal attraction for women.
Byesby laughed, and took himself out of the measure to find the nearest waiter with a drink, whereupon he sat and watched Amelia Hazelgrove quite narrowly, to see if she would be likely to reveal who was so unfortunate as to be the object of her designs.
Amelia was in receipt of a scolding from her mother for behaving badly in two dances.
“To leave a known rake like Byesby is one thing – and you should never have accepted an offer to dance from him in the first place – but to do that after leaving an inoffensive creature like Mr Chetwode, that is too bad!” said Mrs Hazelgrove.
“He is not inoffensive, he is more interested in his stupid music than he is in me,” said Amelia, who wanted to defend herself but did not dare speak of her real reasons for having felt slighted by Mr Chetwode.
“Now that is quite childish of you, my darling,” said Mrs Hazelgrove. “For I have heard it said that he is a very fine musician, and musicians are all just a little bit mad about their music! There, I had to give my precious girl a bit of a hint, you know, before any of the old cats decide to bar you from any more balls, for being missish! I think we should go home, now, and I will drop a hint that it is that time for you, which is making you so badly behaved, for that will make it quite understandable to any hostess or would-be hostess!”
Amelia sulked. Being hustled off, and rumours of her indisposition spread widely meant that she had no time to approach any other debt-ridden rakes. She must suffer herself to be taken home early, and to stay at home for several days to lend credence to her mother’s way of rescuing her from possible social ruin. Amelia did not see why it should mean social ruin to a girl, if she left an unconvivial partner looking stupid, but apparently her mother felt that it did.
Well, in the meantime she might wrack her brains and make lists of appropriate men to ruin that horrid Beth Renfield.


Chapter 17

Edward managed to get Letty alone while he escorted the ladies shopping for ribbons in Bond Street.
“Aunt Letty, I managed to upset Beth, I fear,” he said.
“She said nothing of it to me,” said Letty.
“Well, she might not have done so for embarrassment,” said Edward. “You see, I thought for a while she was in love with that clunch, Chetwode, and made a cake of myself, and I asked her if she was in love, and she blushed, and she told me it was an indelicate question.”
“Edward, sometimes you are a complete fool,” said Letty, crisply. “Perhaps you should ask yourself for whom might Beth have a partiality, when there is one gentleman whom she admires mightily, who is kind, and able to make sure that a lady is always comfortable, who has been assiduous in his attentions and escorting us, and who is even good-looking into the bargain.”
“Why, he sounds a very paragon, but he must have been escorting you when I have been away in Suffolk, for I cannot bring to mind anyone of that nature,” said Edward.
“Then you’re a clunch even more so than Mr Chetwode, and you deserve to lose Beth if you don’t make a push to display your feelings for her. You do have feelings for her, don’t you? More at least than as a convenient adjunct to your life for being restful, and kinder than the Hazelgrove female?”
“I…I believe I am in love with Beth,” said Edward.
“Well, perhaps showing her that might be a good idea,” said Letty, tartly. “You cannot expect a woman to make the running in a courtship; you need to court her properly so she knows she is doing the right thing in marrying you.”
“But if she is in love with this other man, this paragon….” Said Edward.
Letty threw up her arms in frustration.
“Edward, who escorts us shopping? Who gets waiters to serve one? Who has aspirations to aid the indigent?”
“Well, I don’t know anybody else who does so,” said Edward. “Kept himself secret from me, hasn’t he?” he added truculently.
“On the contrary. You have been acquainted with him for twenty-seven years, four months and seventeen days,” said Letty.
Edward counted on his fingers.
“That would be from my birth,” he said. “Aunt Letty! Is Uncle Adam courting Beth?”
“Are you really that stupid, or did my sister merely drop you on your head when you were a baby?” demanded Letty
Edward stared.
“You…. Do you mean that the darling girl loves me?” he gasped.
“And I’m not sure why when you are such a nodcock,” said Letty with some asperity.
“I could not dare to hope,” said Edward.
“Well hope, and for goodness sake, be lover-like towards her, instead of treating her like a colleague you hope to back you in the House of Lords!”
“I don’t!” he was hurt. “Do I?”
Letty sighed.
“Only a little,” she said. “Here she comes, now offer her your arm do and admire her purchases.”
Beth tripped over, smiling with pleasure.
“Now I may make over the gown someone spilled red wine onto, that I did not see until it had been washed,” she said. “Molly was so tearful about it, and I showed her how to soak it in white wine, which brought out most of it, but there is the faintest of pinkness still near the hem. I thought to trim it with flounces of the same muslin, as they still have some in the haberdashery here, vandyked and caught at the top of the points with ribbon knots. And I know that is of no interest to you, Edward, but I was so pleased that they had not sold out. The only other thing we might have tried was to soak the whole in red wine and hope to achieve an all over pinkish tinge that at least could be worn over pink. White is sometimes a difficult colour to match, like black!”
“That sounds illogical,” said Edward.
“Oh, it may sound illogical, but if you consider, the fibres may be from different places, as are the fibres from different sheep, and though they bleach it in the sun I believe, it does not always achieve quite the same shade, sometimes being creamier in colour than others,” said Beth. “As for black, the dye may take differently, and some manufacturers achieve a good black by different means than others.”
“By Jove, you are right!” said Edward. “One of my school coats washed corbeau-coloured the first time it was laundered, and rifle green the second, and I had to have the laundress swear it had gone to her black to avoid a whipping for gaudiness. Mama was most put out at such shoddy fabric.”
“Yes, I should think so!” said Beth. “Is that why you eschew green coats?”
“By Jove, I should think it probably is, though I had not thought of it for many years!” said Edward. “How the other fellows teased me!”
“The dark blue superfine you generally wear brings out the blue of your eyes, in any case,” said Beth.
“And your eyes are like the sea, ever changing, and always beautiful,” said Edward.
“Oh Edward! Did you just pay me a compliment?” said Beth, looking pleased.
“Only said it because it’s true,” said Edward, looking flustered. “You’re a very fine looking woman, Beth, and stap me, if I don’t prefer golden brown hair by a long chalk to theatrical brunette. It ain’t so actressy.”
Beth smiled up at him, and Edward almost kissed her. However it was not appropriate behaviour to kiss a girl in the middle of Bond Street! At least, not unless one was deucedly loose in the haft!
Beth was happy. Why Edward had looked at her so kindly, and for a moment she had wondered whether he was going to kiss her! It would be wildly improper to do so here, but Beth knew that however improper it was, she would permit Edward to kiss her anywhere!
Edward schooled himself, and was all that was proper, seeing the ladies home, and Beth hoped that he was not regretting such a display of emotion.
“Dear Aunt, Edward was notdrunk was he, that he gave me compliments?” she asked Letty, once Edward had taken his leave of them.
“Drunk, fiddlesticks, come to his senses to recognise what a pretty girl you are,” said Letty. “You ain’t a beauty, but then handsome is as handsome does, and you look very pleasant indeed. He’s just turned embarrassed because he said what he was thinking. It always takes him that way.”
“Oh Aunt Letty! Do you think that he is beginning to feel some affection for me that is more romantic than familial?” asked Beth.
“I think he’s realising how loveable you are, and how he might have nearly lost you to some other cub on the town,” said Letty. “After all, hasn’t he growled at all your suitors?”
Beth giggled.
“You make him sound like a dancing bear, tormented by horrid little boys,” she said.
“Well, my dear, I’m sure he would enter into the feelings of such a bear, feeling tormented by thoughts that those little boys might carry off what he wants most, which in the case of a bear might be his food, but in Edward’s case is his bride, you.”
“Ooooh…” said Beth.
“About time he started treating you more like a woman and less like someone to harangue with his political beliefs,” said Letty, “though it’s a compliment that he expects you to understand them and argue if you disagree.”
“I like to listen and to make suggestions,” said Beth. “He is hoping to set up some kind of manufactory for wounded soldiers, where they may make things for sale, to give them dignity, with a place to stay as well and regular meals. He wrote to me from his farm that perhaps some of the woodland that needs thinning might be given over to timber for the manufacture of simple furniture that they might make, or decorative boxes for keeping gloves, or jewellery, or paperwork in.”
“Edward may not be the sharpest stick in the bundle, but he is very good at seeing what needs to be done and doing it,” agreed Letty. “Of course it never occurred to him that it was improper to write to you, a young unattached woman, without sending such a missive via your guardian.”
“Well, we are betrothed,” said Beth. “And what do you mean about him not being the sharpest stick in the bundle? Edward is very knowledgeable!”
“Yes, that is true,” said Letty. “And I grant you he has taken the effort to be well-informed, but sometimes he fails to see the simplest of things… well, well, my dear, do not let it trouble you. Edward may not be as clever as some, but he has a wisdom that is more endearing.”
“You do speak in riddles sometimes, Aunt!” laughed Beth.

Amelia’s cogitations had meanwhile brought her to the decision that she knew the perfect person to abduct and ruin Beth. And she got her ideas from the newspapers.
The ongoing Crim.Con. case in the paper, regarding the foisting of a discarded and pregnant mistress onto Adam, Baron Darsham, was unfolding in some detail, since Tiffany’s maid had decided to sell her story to the highest bidding newspaper, having very little understanding of such things as the concept of contempt of court, let alone the decency to preserve any of her mistress’ reputation. Indeed, had she known, she might even have been pleased to take away Tiffany’s name, since the erstwhile Baroness, divorced already according to the Church, had dismissed her maid in a fit of pique that the girl had backed the story after being told that she might do so. Tiffany was finding that it was not so simple as divorcing Adam and going back to being a free woman, since she was barred from most of society for her deception and prenuptial adultery. It was unfair that society did not equally bar the man who had seduced and left her, and Evelyn, Marquis Finchbury, was still received, if not permitted near to many unwed ladies.
Amelia considered that Finchbury would be the ideal candidate to abduct Beth. He was unscrupulous, and his pockets were always to let. That this was an attack on Edward’s whole family never occurred to her. Contacting him was, of course, the most difficult matter. Amelia thought long and hard, and decided that the only thing to be done was to send him a letter and arrange to meet somewhere like Vauxhall Gardens, now that they were open for the Spring and Summer. A vastly improper thing to do, however, and would give the Marquis a possible hold over her. Amelia was practical enough about her own safety. However, she had a sudden idea; the illuminations in honour of the defeat of Napoleon would afford the opportunity of dark corners where the lights left pools of shadow, and yet in a more public space than, say, the dark walks at Vauxhall, one might feel safer.
Amelia began a campaign of nagging of her parents to be permitted to view the illuminations, fairly certain that neither of them wished to go, and so would be likely to permit her to go under the care of a footman and her maid. She would be able to do that, even if supposedly under the curse of a female indisposition, as she would not be likely to be seen by many, if she was careful.
Accordingly, once given permission, Amelia wrote a note to the Marquis of Finchbury, directing him to meet her that evening to learn something to his advantage, at the illuminations in South Audley Street, where the display by the Duke of Cambridge, the Portuguese Ambassador and Monsieur might be seen. Amelia planned to drive through the streets to see the other displays, at Horse Guards, the Mansion House, Manchester Square and elsewhere, but picked this venue almost at random, but she knew that she might step into Grosvenor Chapel, and even someone who was as hardened a rake as Finchbury would never abduct a lady from a church. That her own business was most unholy did not occur to her. She added the porch of the chapel as a venue to meet, and sent her favourite footman off with the message. He would doubtless be accompanying her in the evening and would do anything for her, especially with a good vail.

As it happened, Edward was also taking Letty and Beth to see the illuminations; he chose to take them to Somerset House, where the decorations were quite sumptuous, and some took the part of lit inscriptions, with the Latin tag along the front,
Europa Instaurata, Auspice Britanniae;
Tyrannide subversa, Vindice Liberatis.
“I may have small Latin, but even I can puzzle that out,” said Beth. “Europe restored, under the protection of Britain, tyranny overthrown, the vindication of liberty.”
“Near enough,” said Edward. “Europe set up under the protection of Britain, Tyranny overthrown, the champion freed, as I make it.”
“I like the pictures better,” said Beth, pointing to another building that displayed an illuminated painted transparency cartoon of Bonaparte, tumbling from the mount of Republicanism into the arms of a demon. “Why does it say ‘To Hell-bay’?”
“No idea,” said Edward, “unless it’s a forced pun on the name of the island he is to be exiled to, Elba.”
“It’s not a good pun if so,” said Beth, disapprovingly. “But an amusing idea to have him tumble from hubris.”
They wandered the streets, exclaiming at the ingenuity of some of the illuminations, expressions of loyalty to the King and Regent, as well as praising Wellington, expressions of support to the House of Bourbon, and a myriad of coloured lamps as well as transparencies.
Edward was insistent that the ladies should repair with him to Fleet Street.
“The Knight’s Gas Company have a most ingenious display,” he told them.
Beth gasped as she saw what the gas company had managed, a tree made of laurel leaves and festooned with blossoms made with gas lights, and throwing all other illuminations into the shade with the unparalleled brightness of the burning gas.
“Magnificent!” breathed Beth.
“Thought you’d like that,” said Edward. “One day, all London’s streets will be illumined with gas lighting, and it will be a much safer place to be.”
“Indeed, yes!” said Beth. “Why, I am sometimes afraid at night of turning my foot betwixt door and carriage, without having to stop to consider the possibility of footpads taking advantage of the confusion as people seek their carriages outside a house where a ball has been held, for once outside the pool of the lights at the entrance, the darkness appears the more Stygian by contrast. I cannot help wondering whether one of the reasons to continue a ball until dawn is to permit safer passage home for the guests, once the crepuscular gloom as the sun rises has given way to morning.”
“I wouldn’t say you were wrong at that,” said Edward. “Worth braving the cold of the evening?”
“Eminently so,” said Beth, determining to wrap up warmly as she saw Cressida on her way to her elopement after the ball they were both to attend. Who knew how long they might have to wait for Mr Chetwode! She would strongly urge Cressida to dress warmly too, and tell her maid to do so; and Beth determined that she would loan Molly, who was to wait with her, her second best cloak, so that she might not get chilled.
However, this excitement was several days away, and the weather might even improve.
Not that Beth was very sanguine on this point, as the chill seemed to be set in for the foreseeable future, and the barometer held no promise of change.
She was glad to return to the fireside in Red Lion Square, where Edward was regaled with tea, and London crumpets, which were made with yeast, and had holes in for the butter to melt into. Beth thought them much preferable to the normal, flat crumpets, which were probably the same griddle cakes that King Alfred had burned, and happily consumed three, licking her fingers.
“Oh Beth, you are so sweet,” said Edward. “I do love to see you enjoying yourself, whether with the illuminations or just enjoying something so simple as tea and cakes or crumpets.”
“I’ll be fat by the time I’m forty, you know,” said Beth, seriously. “I love my food too much not to be.”
“Oh, I have no doubt I shall be a trifle corpulent by then as well,” said Edward, “and I love the way you accept that one ages and changes. Though I fancy you may carry it off better than I; you have the type of figure that is unchanged, no matter what you eat.”
“More to the point, I go for brisk walks in the mornings,” said Beth. “Because I do have my vanity.”
Edward laughed.
“We shall walk together when we are married,” he said, stretching out a hand to her.
“I should like that very much,” said Beth, taking his hand, shyly.
Letty heaved a sigh of relief. They would manage to declare their love before long.


Chapter 18

Amelia had meanwhile had a curt note back with five words on it: “this had better be good” which she had shivered over when reading. She stuffed her reticule with paper money, and hoped that she had enough to pay off the Marquis to do the job. It seemed likely that Beth was also Letty’s heir, reasoned Amelia, who was still not entirely convinced that Beth was not Letty’s natural daughter.
It was with some trepidation that Amelia approached the chapel. A dark figure lurked by the door.
“Well?” he snapped.
“I have a business proposition for you,” said Amelia. “Shall we step into the chapel out of the wind?”
He gave a bark of sardonic laughter.
“Well, you ain’t weighed down with devotion,” he sneered.
“What do you mean? I am a regular church-goer!” said Amelia.
“But ready to transact trade in the temple… I presume it is not yourself that you are selling?”
She flushed.
“Certainly not! But I offer both funds to cover any immediate embarrassments you might have, and a bride who will have a good fortune when her aunt, if the woman is not her mother, dies, should you care to marry the wretched woman, not just ravish her.”
“Very well. You interest me; keep talking,” said the Marquis, ushering Amelia into the church. He shut the door in the face of her maid.
“I am unchaperoned!” cried Amelia, with sudden panic, looking up into the dark, sardonic face, half afraid he might ravish any female, and half wondering what it might be like to be possessed by someone wild and untameable, not safe and conventional like Edward.
“So you are,” said the Marquis. “I ain’t got any desire to kiss you though; I prefer blondes with lips that ain’t big enough to be likely to slobber. I don’t want any witnesses.”
“Very well,” said Amelia, torn between eagerness to get it over with, relief that he did not demand kisses as additional payment, and outrage over his evident lack of interest in her, though he had swept her trim figure with an insolent look that almost seemed to undress her! “There’s a girl called Beth Renfield, who is the ward of a Letty Grey. I want Beth abducted and ruined. You can marry her then if you will; Mr Grey left his wife very wealthy as I understand. AWP!”
Finchbury seized Amelia by the throat, and regarded her thoughtfully.
“And would this be any kind of trap, set up by Edward Brandon, by any chance?” he asked.
“He knows nothing of it! I want to marry him, but that stupid little dab of a woman has her hooks into him somehow! And I want her out of the way!” said Amelia.
He let go of her throat as suddenly as he had seized it.
“You ain’t clever enough to dissemble,” he said. “Well, well! I might have suspected Edward Brandon of setting a trap for me, as he’s very hot as regards family. And it pleases me well enough to do the whole family a bad turn, and sweet indeed if a bride from the same stable pays any damages Adam, Lord Darsham demands from me. Especially as I never told that stupid creature Tiffany Pelham to wed someone who would be likely to cut up rough when she was stupid enough to break an ankle from our fun together. Hmm, yes, and Tiff shall see that she cannot come running to me.”
“I didn’t know she had broken her ankle,” said Amelia. “It must be hard, missing out on dancing.”
He laughed again, mockingly.
“The euphemism for getting with child, little fool,” he said. “She was so eager and not careful. Hardly my fault, but I am the one accused of criminal conversation. She was not even betrothed to Adam Brandon at the time. Yes, decidedly I will do the family an ill turn, but if you let Edward Brandon know before it’s a fait accompli so help me, I’ll wring your pretty neck if I survive that intemperate young man. He has already threatened my person over his ridiculous aunt by marriage. You will have to let me know her itinerary, and when it is best to snatch her – as well as giving me enough ready to make it worth my while, and to hire a coach, and horses on the way North.”
“I have a roll of soft, almost three thousand pounds. Will that do?” asked Amelia. “It was all I could secrete from my parents.”
He laughed again, and shivers ran up Amelia’s spine.
“Brought it with you, did you, little fool? And only my upbringing as a gentleman preventing me from taking it from you by force! Yes, that will do. It will see to all the arrangements and keep my more pressing creditors out of the way. I need a ball she will attend to try to abduct her in the dark.”
Amelia pulled the banknotes out of her reticule as he held out his hand for them, and watched in horrified fascination at the expert way he fanned and counted them.
“We all attend a big ball at Arvendish House on Friday next, the twenty-second,” she told him. “Beth is bound to be there. So too is Edward, so you must be careful.”
Finchbury nodded.
“My thanks for the warning,” he said. “I shall endeavour to avoid him. And I wish you joy of the unpleasant fellow. He is like a march of ants, one attack negligible, but able to make a real nuisance of himself by his persistence, and cannot be diverted once started on a march. You had better get away before anyone notices you are without a chaperone. The rest is up to me – apart from you marrying that brainless oaf. I really do not see what you see in him; they say that he is exerting his philanthropy to help those soldiers who have been invalided out, now.”
“He will not waste his time or fortune on such things when we are married, I assure you,” said Amelia. “I shall leave the church first; give me time to ret out quickly and make myself into just one more person seeing the sights.”
He nodded, and Amelia slipped out.
She scarcely took in the expressions of fervid support for the Bourbon restoration that were the major part of the display of Cambridge House, nor such patriotism equally in evidence on the houses of the Portuguese ambassador, and Monsieur, the brother of the supposed Louis XVIII. With her maid and her footman in attendance she just wanted to get as far away from Finchbury as possible, and obtain safety. She could almost swear she heard a mocking laugh pursue her as she walked as fast as she might, without running. What a loathsome man! And yet Beth Renfield deserved someone like that, for attempting to steal Edward!
It seemed an age before Amelia gained the safety of the coach, and bid the coachman to drive by other illuminations. She must study some of them, for her mother would want to know about them, even if she had not wanted to go. Amelia swallowed hard. She felt sick with all she had been through, and the cries of street vendors with food, taking advantage of this nocturnal excursion made her want to heave. But it was over now! And she should have Edward, and commiserate with him that his wanton cousin had married a ne’er do well.

Evelyn, Marquis Finchbury was thinking furiously, and was well pleased with the bargain he had been offered. This scheming little minx was probably dangerous, as much because her malice was quite ingenuous and naïve. She was likely to gloat, as soon as the deed was done, and bring Edward Brandon down on him. One did not have to be a coward to wish to avoid being beaten by the ham-like hands of a glorified farmer, who just happened too to have taken lessons from Gentleman Jackson. Not because he wished to cut a dash as a Corinthian, or for any normal such reason, but just so he could keep fit, and so he could go into the roughest Rookeries to help his lame ducks! It was said he was quite a shot too, and probably had learned that for the same reason, beyond the normal urges to hunt, and it was also said that Brandon carried a sword-stick. Heaven preserve any honest rogue from a philanthropist who knew how to take care of himself!
Finchbury decided that heading out on the Great North Road was probably the last thing any sensible seducer should attempt, and decided instead to make for Wales, where a licence sufficed, as it did in England, being under the same laws, and where nobody was likely to look for him. The bride should be resigned by then to marriage, as it was still a long journey, and he should have impressed upon her by then his skill as a lover. Finchbury had every faith in his own skill to make any woman adore him, and scorned rape as the resort of weaklings. He had every expectation of making this Renfield girl a willing adjunct to her own ruin. And if she was an heiress, he might even remain moderately faithful to the girl, if she was amusing enough. Whether a girl who suited Edward Brandon was likely to be amusing was another matter; she was probably a little puritan. Well, that should be a most amusing and challenging seduction, to find out whether there was any fire behind what was doubtless a rather priggish exterior.
And as for this other girl, the one who was paying him, if she caused any trouble he would make her fall in love with him, and then laugh at her.

Amelia managed to describe the illuminations to her parents with reasonable enthusiasm. They had been spectacular enough for her to bring them to mind when she concentrated, though she was pale enough for her mother to ask sharply what was wrong.
“Oh, it is just the contrast of the illuminations and the darkness of the night,” said Amelia. “Some of the wicks of the oil lanterns lighting up the display were poorly trimmed, and I have a touch of the megrim.”
It was a believable lie, and Amelia might escape to her bed, with a hot brick for her feet, with a dose of the Family Pills of Grulingius, despite her protests regarding the latter.
“Now then, my darling,” said her mother, “It is good for you. Why, we know ‘it has been found of excellent use in Lethargies, Caras, Vertigoes, old Head Aches, Megrims, Epilepsies, Apoplexies, and other cold and moist diseases of the Brain’, for it says so here on the packet. And in this cold and moist weather, it must be most efficacious.”
Amelia’s contemplations on her preferred fate for Dr Grulingius would not have been considered ladylike. However, it was nice to snuggle down into a warm bed, for she had become chilled by her outing, and she drifted off to sleep to dream roseate dreams of being a baroness, and only awoke sweating from a nightmare to recall that Beth Renfield would be a Marchioness if Finchbury did marry her, and would outrank her! How could she have made such a miscalculation!
But Beth Renfield would have to put up with being ruined first, and would be too much of a prude to show herself in Town, whereas she, Amelia, would make sure that Edward spent as much time in Town as possible. Finchbury would be happy to leave Beth in his country seat, wherever that was, and come to town for his amours since one could hardly expect him to wish to spend time with anyone so boring as Beth. Amelia had set her heart on Edward, so long as he had a title ahead of him, and she had no desire to have anything more to do with Finchbury!
It did, however, take Amelia quite a long time to get back to sleep again, though it was not her conscience that kept her awake, but the disturbing image of a dark, sardonic face.

Beth also had a slight headache from the effects of the illuminations, or, as she confessed cheerfully, too much butter on her crumpets, but unlike Mrs Hazelgrove, Letty preferred country herbs over patent medicines, and dosed her with a tea of dried willow bark and lemon balm, sweetened with honey and flavoured with cinnamon to mask the bitterness of the dose.
“I cannot say that the honey takes much of the bitterness,” said Beth, with a grimace, as she swallowed the dose down.
“No, my dear, but it is worse without it,” said Letty.
“As I prefer not to imagine,” said Beth. “Oh, but how pretty the lights were, and it was definitely worth a slight indisposition!”
“I agree,” said Letty. “Edward showed us the best spectacles, I do believe. And what a pretty way to celebrate the end of hostilities! I do declate, I cannot readily recall when we have not been at war with France, save that brief Peace of Amiens. Why, we must have been at war more than a quarter of a century! For I was just a young girl in the schoolroom, you know!”
“It will seem strange, that one might just visit France now, if one pleases,” said Beth.
“Would you like to do so?” asked Letty.
“It might be nice,” said Beth. “Only think, to be able to say to my grandchildren, ‘I was in France soon after the Monster was defeated’, assuming I have any grandchildren of course.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will,” said Letty. “Now go to sleep!”
Beth drifted off happily, and dreamed of Edward holding her hand while gas lights danced just for them.


And a very merry Christmas to all

Chapter 9

Thursday, November 12, 1812 – Darcy House, London

Darcy and Georgiana were enjoying a quiet breakfast when Hodgkins brought in the post and placed it beside Darcy. “Ah! A letter from Bingley. Most unusual, I can read the address.”

Opening the letter, Darcy read with interest,

Greetings Darcy,

As you can readily observe, I took your advice and now employ a secretary to handle my correspondence. I accept your thanks in advance for sparing you the obvious pain in attempting to read my letters. I hired a young fellow from Yorkshire who had attended Oxford. He has been quite valuable indeed and has proven his worth in dealing with the volume of correspondence that grows by the day.

I have settled myself here in York quite comfortably. At the present time I am living with my uncle but I have purchased a house. Some repairs and improvements are required, but should be completed by the end of the year.

I have dined out several times and my uncle has hosted two dinners on my behalf. I am quite liking society here, it reminds me very much of Hertfordshire; very lively. I attended a small ball recently and it was quite enjoyable. I find myself inclined to enjoy the dances, but less inclined to attach myself to any particular lady. My uncle suggested that I only ever dance a single set with any lady so as to limit any suggestion of partiality. I have done just that.

I must return to London to make such arrangements as are necessary to sell the house and have my furniture carted to York. I hope to have that completed early in the New Year. I will enjoy Christmas with my relatives here in York and travel to London in the New Year, arriving there around January 9. I imagine you will enjoy Christmas at Pemberley. Could I break my journey and visit you and Georgiana for a day or even two? I would hope to arrive on the evening of January 5 and depart on January 7. As well, I would like to take further advantage of your kindness and stay at your house while in London. I cannot be too sure how long I will visit but a fortnight should suffice to deal with all problems.

Sincerely,

Charles Bingley

Passing it over to Georgiana, Darcy commented, “I look forward to seeing Bingley after Christmas. I was thinking of inviting him to join us, but he seems quite pleased with being amongst his family in York.”

Georgiana read the letter and looked at her brother with surprise written on her face. "Is Mr. Bingley separating himself from his sisters? I cannot altogether blame him, but I am surprised."

“It is as much a case of them separating from him, I believe. Bingley has decided to move back to York where his father built his business. His uncles remain involved in the company and Bingley has decided he needs to do likewise. His sisters, however, have a strong desire to partake of London society. If they were to behave in York as they did while in Hertfordshire, Bingley would not be served well. I do believe they will not find London society as welcoming as it was when Bingley was here. I did tell Bingley that I would not accept his sisters using my name to acquire admittance to society.”

“I am looking forward to returning to Pemberley for Christmas. Will we have guests?”

“I have invited Richard and the Matlocks for the season. They will stay about a fortnight. “

Georgiana looked pensive and seemed about to speak. After several attempts she finally blurted, “Will I be expected to come ‘out’ next spring?”

Somewhat surprised, Darcy replied, “Your Aunt Eleanor and I discussed this recently. You will not turn seventeen until next July and we both felt that it would not hurt you to wait another year; however, we will be in London for part of the season. I plan to attend a number of balls with you although you will only be allowed to dance with family. You will also be attending some dinners. Our purpose is to let you become familiar and comfortable with such events for when you are ‘out’ the next year.”

“Thank you, Brother, thank you. I know it is silly but I simply do not feel ready.”

“I think your aunt and I realized that; and, since there is no real urgency, we decided to wait a year. Now, to change the topic, I plan for us to leave for Pemberley on Wednesday next. I will write to Mrs. Reynolds today to expect us on November 22. Any last minute shopping, like my Christmas present should be done soon.” Darcy smiled as he left the room and then stuck his head back in the door, “And yours has already been bought!”

Georgiana simply smiled in response and quietly finished her meal. Her French tutor was not expected for another hour so she moved to her sitting room to read. Once settled with her book, she found that the pages held little interest. Her thoughts veered to the dinner that her brother had hosted last night. It had been an extremely unusual, albeit interesting, dinner. Her brother had invited her cousin, Lady Frances Monteith, to act as hostess. Lady Frances was the younger sister of her cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam. Her husband Viscount Henry Monteith attended, as did Richard.

It was a small party since the only others present were two couples, both in trade, that her brother had met recently. She had previously made the acquaintance of Mr. and Mrs. Johnson when they were invited to tea and had enjoyed their company. She found Mrs. Johnson to be a very amiable and sensible lady and had greatly enjoyed their discussions of Derbyshire and Yorkshire. The other couple, Mr. and Mrs. Tailor, were not previously known to her but, over the course of the evening, she found them to be enjoyable company also. They had shown an obvious knowledge and appreciation for music, particularly opera, and had discussed several operas with which she was not familiar and had encouraged her to learn the music scores.

When the gentlemen separated for their port and cigars, Lady Frances was quite comfortable directing the conversation. Georgiana knew that it was the ability of Lady Frances to mingle comfortably with people from trade that had induced her brother to ask her to be hostess for that occasion. In most circumstances he would have asked Aunt Eleanor but she tended to be less welcoming to such company. Georgiana was not insensible to the fact that the other ladies made a general, but not too overt, effort to include her in their conversation.

However, it was the behaviour her brother that truly interested her. She had said little but the changes she observed over the past few months could not be ignored. She had no difficulty in determining the cause for the change. A young lady by the name of Miss Elizabeth Bennet had forced her brother to change, and for the better in Georgiana’s opinion.

Her thoughts drifted to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She had not, of course, ever met the lady but her discussion about her with her brother remained fresh in her mind. She could recall that conversation at will. It had begun in her sitting room after dinner last July. Her brother had invited himself in; dismissed Mrs. Annesley, and then sat silently for several minutes clearly trying to gauge how best to open the subject. Finally, with a rather forced calmness, he began,

“Georgie, I know you have wondered as to the reason for my distress or melancholy over the past few months. I would have you know that you are in no way responsible for it. I cannot, will not, provide you with all of the particulars and you must be satisfied with what I can impart.”

“While visiting Mr. Bingley at his estate in Hertfordshire last year, I met a young lady – Miss Elizabeth Bennet – to whom I was almost immediately drawn. She was the second eldest of a gentleman’s family with four other sisters and no brothers. The estate was entailed away and the mother was desperate to marry off her daughters and very obvious in her endeavours. For a number of reasons, pertaining to her status compared to ours and what I perceived to be major improprieties in the behaviour of her family - apart from herself and her elder sister. I made every effort to disguise my interest since I did not want to raise expectations that I was not prepared to meet.”

“I left Hertfordshire sooner than planned and a major reason was to avoid Miss Bennet’s society. I found, however, that leaving Hertfordshire did not remove her from my thoughts and she became a constant and most disturbing presence in them.”

Georgiana could not help but exclaim, “Brother, I have never heard you speak so of a young lady!”

"Yes, well I have not previously, or since, met her equal in our society. Anyway, this torment continued and then I travelled to Kent with Richard to visit our Aunt Catherine. She was there! She was visiting her friend who had recently married our Aunt’s parson, a Mr. Collins. Richard visited the parsonage almost daily. He enjoyed Miss Bennet’s society although they both realized that an attachment could not be formed – she had no dowry, you see. The party at the parsonage was invited to dine at Rosings by Aunt Catherine several times during the course of my visit. It quickly became clear to me that my feelings for Miss Bennet had not abated. I decided to court her and so joined her on several of her daily walks.”

Georgiana's face showed some confusion. Rather tentatively, she asked, “I know there has been no engagement announced, and yet I know you to be the best of brothers. What ….”

Darcy grimaced. “I proposed, Georgie, and simply put, it was a disaster and she refused me.”

He leaned back in his chair with his head resting on the back, eyes closed and said, “It was a disaster, Georgie. A disaster! I had not only misread her affections – she had taken a rather strong dislike to me - but I also insulted her grievously in the course of my offer of marriage. She not only rejected me quite firmly but told me why she did so. Needless to say, I was quite affronted.”

“Brother, I do not understand, how could she dislike you so?”

“There were a number of reasons mostly of my own making. I cannot go into the particulars but I managed to insult her, her family, her neighbours and friends by my behaviour and actions. She called me arrogant, disdainful and conceited, and, in truth, I cannot now refute those charges. That I actively separated her elder sister from a most eligible suitor through my mistaken understanding of her sister’s feelings only made the situation worse. Miss Elizabeth loves her sister dearly.”

“I cannot imagine any young lady rejecting you no matter the cause.”

“Miss. Elizabeth rejected a man she found wanting, not Mr. Darcy, Master of Pemberley.”

Darcy was pensive for several heartbeats and then added, “You would have liked her a great deal.”

“What was she like, Brother?”

“She was lovely; her face came alive with laughter when she was happy. She was intelligent with a wit that was exercised on me several times and could be quite impertinent on occasion though never maliciously so. She loved to read, was never happier than when out walking – she thought nothing of walking for hours. She once walked three miles, though the roads were muddy, to nurse her elder sister.” He thought a bit and mused, “She was fiercely loyal to, and protective of, family and friends, and delighted in the foibles of her neighbours. She played the piano and sang with great emotion and feelings and, even if her skills were not of the same calibre as yours, I found nothing wanting in her performance - I rarely heard anyone play who gave me greater pleasure.”

“Would she have liked me?”

“I think she would have loved you very much. Everyone who knows your sweet nature could not help but love you Georgie. You are quite similar in nature to her elder sister, Miss Jane Bennet whom she loves dearly. ”

“Brother, will you meet her again?”

“I hope to, but I do not know how to do so. We parted on such a hurtful basis that I fear to approach her directly. The only communication we have had since the night I made the offer, was a letter I gave her the following day, it was an attempt to explain my actions and while I can hope that it has redeemed me in her eyes, I cannot be confident that her opinions have improved. I have not given up hope but how to introduce myself to her once again is a question for which I have no answers.”

Darcy had then left Georgiana with her own thoughts.

Over the course of the past months, Georgiana had conceived and discarded several plans to connect Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her brother. She had thought of writing her a letter and even gone so far as to put pen to paper but when it came time to post the letter, she realized she did not know Miss Bennet’s address. For the same reason, her thoughts of visiting Miss Bennet were impossible to effect. She knew with a certainty that her brother would object strongly to any such interference, no matter how well-meaning; and the impropriety of writing to a young lady, to whom she had not been introduced, was too severe to contemplate.

“It seems like a hopeless case to me” she grumbled, “quite hopeless.”

Her thoughts were disturbed by a knock on the door. Mrs. Annesley had come to remind her that her lessons were to begin shortly. Together they moved to the music room for the lesson.


Chapter 10

Wednesday, December 23, 1812 – Longbourn, Hertfordshire

The Gardiners had arrived the previous day, their children bursting out of the carriage to greet their favourite cousins. The enthusiasm, pent up for hours travelling from London, could hardly be repressed. Their cousins were equally glad to see them and delighted in playing with, reading and teasing them. It was a welcome change and spirits at Longbourn seemed to rise with the sound of children’s voices and laughter. There was little time for anything other than to enjoy each other’s company.

Mrs. Gardiner had spent the morning with Mrs. Bennet, listening to her complaints, attempting to temper her moods and distracting her with talk of London, fashions and such other topics as would interest her sister. No mention was made of Lydia by either woman. The new tenant at Netherfield was of interest to both ladies. Mrs. Bennet’s interest, of course, was tempered by the realization that while the gentleman concerned had two sons, both were married.

“The eldest son, Sister, will live at Netherfield with his parents and take on the management of the estate, while the younger son will remain in London and operate his father’s business. I convinced Mr. Bennet to make a call on them a fortnight ago but they have yet to call on us. Mr. Bingley did not serve us so! “

“Mr. Thompson is not of our acquaintance. Mr. Gardiner did make some investigations amongst his business friends but was unable to determine much more than Mr. Thompson is a very respectable man with a sizeable fortune. He appears to want to establish his family as gentlemen.”

With this Mrs. Bennet was required to be satisfied and, although her brother had gleaned more information, it was of such a nature that neither he nor his wife wished to make it more generally known. The particulars of his business and income were a matter for Mr. Thompson to disclose, should he desire to do so.

Mrs. Gardiner sought out her two favourite nieces and invited them to her room to talk. Addressing Elizabeth, she asked, “Lizzy, you last letter indicated that you and Jane wanted to talk to Mr. Gardiner and myself. My husband is with your father in the library at the moment and will likely stay there until dinner. I think attempting to bring him into the discussion now would attract more attention than you might wish. Is this not so?”

The two girls exchanged glances and both nodded in response. As usual, Elizabeth took the initiative to speak for both, "Aunt, it is difficult for Jane and me to bring this problem to you. It seems disloyal to our parents but we know not what else to do. They appear, to us, to be uninterested or incapable of resolving our problems.”

“Lizzy, Jane … you know you are as dear to us as our own children. I have suspected, from your letters, that the situation here has become very wearisome. Knowing your father and mother as we do, Mr. Gardiner and I are not surprised at your concern over the loss of society.”

Jane burst out, “It is not just the loss of society, Aunt. Our mother’s repetition of the same complaints, every day has worn on even my feelings.”

Elizabeth laughed, “I have begun to worry that Jane will take to her bed with flutterings and spasms.” She paused and continued, “It has come to the point where I can barely control my own temper when attending her. And, do you know the worst thing?” She shook her head and looked at her aunt, "I have not visited my father’s library to read with him in weeks. I cannot bear to join him in his retreat from our lives.”

Mrs. Gardiner sighed, “I did not realize it had gotten so bad that two of the most level-headed young women I know are so very distressed.”

Elizabeth made a quick glance at Jane and continued, “There is more, Aunt. With Lydia’s disgrace, Jane and I are not likely to find men who would be respectable husbands. Truthfully, we both realized that our prospects were poor even before that occurred. We know it would be a great imposition, but would it be possible for Jane and me, or even just one of us, to move to London with you when you return?”

Mrs. Gardiner could feel the pressure of her nieces’ gaze. She wondered how long they could hold their breath and waited another moment or two before smiling, "It may amaze you both, but your uncle and I had discussed this very possibility before we left London. We knew that your situation was difficult although we had not believed it to be as bad as you have related.” She laughed at their collective sigh of relief, saying “We would be delighted to have you come and live with us. I must caution you that our social life, even during the peak of the ‘season’ is not extensive. We attend balls only rarely and many of our dinners involve your uncle’s business connections.”

“Aunt, we would welcome almost any society,” said Jane.

“Well, we can do better than that I believe. For instance, there is a New Year’s Day ball Mr. Gardiner and I always attend. You will join us for that. It is not, of course, one which society’s first circle attends, but it is lively and the people are both pleasant and genteel. You will enjoy it and I doubt that you sit out a single dance.”

“It sounds lovely, Aunt. Thank you.”

"We plan to return to London in the morning of December 27, so we have some planning to do. You both need to see to your gowns since I doubt there will be time to have new ones made. However, your uncle and I will talk to your father about funds to buy some new morning dresses and evening gowns. If you are going hunting for suitors, your weapons need to be sharpened.”

This elicited a laugh from both girls and, with their spirits and hearts much lighter, gave themselves over to planning for their stay in London.

That night the Gardiners met with Mr. Bennet after dinner to discuss their plans and obtain his consent to the move. He was reluctant to approve the loss of both daughters but was not insensible to their problems. He provided sufficient funds – to be supplemented by Mr. Gardiner as necessary - for both Jane and Elizabeth to improve their wardrobe and, most importantly, agreed to postpone informing Mrs. Bennet of the loss of two daughters until after Christmas.

With this prospect ahead of them, and the company of such valued relatives as the Gardiners, both Jane and Elizabeth were able to enjoy the season. If the company was more limited in numbers, there was no diminution in conversation, camaraderie and good spirits.

Chapter 11

Friday January 1, 1813 – Gracechurch Street, London

The maid pinned a final strand of hair in place, stepped back and ran a considering eye over the lady sitting facing the mirror. “There, Miss Jane, I think you are ready.”

“Thank you, Sally. You have done a wonderful job with my hair, as usual.”

Jane rose from her seat and looked at her sister sitting on the bed, “Time to put on our dresses.”

Elizabeth and Sally carefully lifted the ball gown over Jane's head and carefully lowered it so as to avoid disturbing her hair. Elizabeth waited patiently while Sally buttoned the back of the gown and was then similarly assisted by Jane and Sally into her gown. The two young women looked at each other with satisfaction.

“I think we look very good indeed, Jane. And while are gowns are not new, they are new to the people we will meet tonight.”

A knock on the door signalled the presence of their Aunt Madeline. “You both look very beautiful. Your Uncle will be bursting with pride when he enters the ball room tonight.”

Jane blushed slightly at the compliment, “I think he will be equally proud of you, Aunt. I have never seen you look more lovely!”

“Thank you. I think we should join him downstairs since I believe the carriage is waiting.”

Mr. Gardiner was waiting at the bottom of the stairs and looked up as the three ladies began their descent. “I am speechless. I have never seen so much beauty in this house.” And taking his wife’s and, he whispered “you are even more beautiful tonight than ever.” His wife smiled since they shared a small secret - she was carrying their fifth child.

Looking at his nieces, he could only smile and say, “I suspect that neither of you will sit for any dances tonight, unless you choose to do so.”

Servants bustled about helping the ladies into their outerwear and a beaming Mr. Gardiner assisted them into his carriage. The drive to the location of the ball took very little time; however, they were required to wait a quarter hour behind a line of other carriages before reaching the entrance to the building.

The Gardiners took great satisfaction at the look of pleasure on the faces of their nieces. Elizabeth smiled at her aunt and exclaimed, “I did not realize till now how much I have missed being with people and making new acquaintances. Even if I dance but one set, I will be happy to enjoy such company.”

Mrs. Gardiner laughed, “Then you can expect twice the pleasure, Lizzy. You will be dancing most of the evening and making new acquaintance.”

Mr. Gardiner entered the ball room with Mrs. Gardiner on his army and his nieces following. The host for the evening approached. “Mr. Gardiner, I am pleased to to see you and your lovely wife tonight. May I be introduced to the two lovely ladies that accompany you?”

“Greetings, Mr. Hapgood. May I make you known to my nieces, Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Jane, Elizabeth this is Thomas Hapgood, our host for the evening.”

“Mrs Gardiner, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth I am pleased to welcome you here tonight. Mr. Gardiner, I know I will be besieged for introductions to your lovely nieces. It will afford me a great deal of pleasure to do so.”

Murmuring their appreciation, the Gardiner party moved further into the room and approached a small group comprised of several couples all of whom were well known to the Gardiners. After introductions were performed, conversation resumed with the Bennet sisters being welcomed into the easy discourse. The manners and talk of their companions were natural and easy but it also became quite apparent to both Jane and Elizabeth that behaviour was much more proper and restrained than at a Hertfordshire assembly. They found this to be rather comforting.

They could hear the musicians beginning to warm up their instruments and that dancing would soon start. Both Jane and Elizabeth were quickly surrounded by gentlemen and found their dance cards filled for the first three sets and were led onto the floor. Their enjoyment in the dance was evident to all, smiles and happy converse with their partners animated their faces and drew the eyes of many of the men. Jane’s cool beauty was augmented tonight by the very great pleasure she found in the admiration that was gifted her and her countenance displayed that pleasure clearly.

When the third set ended, Jane was returned by her partner to the Gardiners and then joined by Elizabeth. They barely had time for a refreshing drink when several other gentlemen approached seeking an introduction and a dance. As they waited for the next dance to begin, Jane noticed a gentleman approach. He was introduced as Captain Amos Stovall and he turned to Jane, bowed and asked, “Miss Bennet, may I have the pleasure of the supper set?”

“I have that set free, sir. I will be glad to give it to you.” Captain Stovall bowed again and expressed his appreciation. He then asked Elizabeth for a set, a request which that lady was happy to satisfy. He remained to talk with the Gardiners after both Elizabeth and Jane were claimed by their respective partners. A somewhat gentle exchange of information between the Gardiners and captain Stovall then took place. Neither he nor the Gardiners were unaware of the significance of his request for the supper dance with Jane. It would afford him the opportunity to sit and talk with her after the dance was completed.

Mr. Gardiner learned that Captain Stovall was a naval post captain whose ship, the frigate Amberon, was currently laid up in Portsmouth undergoing major repairs and refit. He had, in fact, just returned to England after more than five years at sea; and, had amassed a considerable fortune in prize money. He was not a particularly handsome man, but he was strongly built and not ill-featured in any way. His was rather reserved but plain spoken and Mrs. Gardiner thought she detected a trace of a Yorkshire accent.

Queried on this, the Captain was quick to compliment her. “You have it very right, Madam. I left Yorkshire some twenty years ago as a lad of twelve to take a position as a midshipman. I have been back but rarely since. Twenty years at sea have rubbed away much of my Yorkshire speech.”

“Do you have family in Yorkshire, sir?”

“Aye, I do. My mother and sister live in York, although they may move since my sister wed last month and her husband is to have a new living in the area.”

Captain Stovall was required to interrupt his conversation to lead Elizabeth to the next dance set which both enjoyed. Elizabeth had observed her partner’s discussion with the Gardiners and aware of the significance of his request for the supper set, set out to sketch her partner’s character as best she could. It became quite obvious that the Captain was an intelligent man and, if the quantity of books available to him was limited by circumstance, his understanding and appreciation of them was not. She returned to her uncle and aunt quite satisfied to watch the Captain lead Jane in the supper dance. Her attention to them was interrupted when she was requested to also dance. Once on the floor, she could not easily follow her sister’s progress and had to abandon her efforts at sketching his character for the time being.

As she danced, memories of her last ball at Netherfield when she danced with Mr. Darcy flooded her thoughts. He had not really intruded to any great extent since last summer. She started to examine her feelings about him but suddenly realized that her partner was speaking to her and she had not the slightest idea of what he had said. “Oh, dear!” She thought, “I better tend to the dance and think of Mr. Darcy later.” She smiled at her partner, murmured something unintelligible and moved on in the dance.

Jane and the Captain were quiet for the first few minutes of the dance. Jane thought to initiate some conversation, “We must have some conversation, Sir. You were introduced to me as Captain Stovall, yet I do not see a uniform.”

Conversation then proceeded by way of stops and starts as the dance first separated them and then brought them back together time and again.

“Very true, Miss Bennet. I am a captain in His Majesty’s navy. I command a frigate”

“Please excuse my ignorance, Sir, but I do not fully comprehend what you mean by ‘frigate’. “

“That is a common problem. Simply put, the navy employs a wide range of boats each with different purpose. The smallest, a sloop, is poorly equipped to fight and is used mainly to carry messages and to scout out the enemy. The largest ship may carry over one hundred guns and is rather slow but is capable of dealing out and sustaining tremendous punishment in battle. My ship falls somewhere in the middle. It carries six and thirty guns and is used mainly to destroy or capture enemy shipping. “

“How long have you been at sea, Captain?”

“I don’t suppose that I have been ashore for more than a year combined since I was taken on as a midshipman twenty years ago. I expect to be ashore now for about five or six months while my ship is repaired.”

“Was it badly damaged in battle, Captain?”

“While it did have some damage from fighting, a lot of the work was simply the result of five years at sea with no chance to refit.”

“I understand. On my father’s estate, we must keep up with repairs to fences and buildings else they fall into disrepair and need to be rebuilt altogether.”

The captain suddenly laughed, “True, Miss Bennet, but at least you did not have to worry about the bottom of your boat falling apart. I was praying every day until we reached the dock, I can assure you. Five years at sea can do monstrous things to a ship’s hull.”

“Captain, I am sure you have never seen the destruction that a dozen pigs can create if a fence is not maintained. Very ugly, Sir, very ugly.”

Conversation continued to be easy and comfortable for the remainder of the dance. Captain Stovall then led Jane to the supper table and, after sitting her, went to get them both a plate of food returning to sit beside her. Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner seated themselves across the table from Jane while Mr. Gardiner supplied them and himself with food. It was clear to all three that the Captain and Jane were enjoying their conversation. If the Captain was not as animated as Mr. Bingley, his countenance did display a clear pleasure with the encounter. It comforted Elizabeth greatly to see the happiness on her sister’s face. She had not seen Jane as happy since the Netherfield ball.

Under some gentle prompting from Mr. Gardiner, the Captain engaged them all with stories of his time at sea, talking about the ports and places he had visited. While much of his recent experience was in the West Indies, he had, as a midshipman, sailed in the Mediterranean and visited places that Jane and Elizabeth had only read about. Jane found that time passed all too quickly, and soon it was necessary to return to the dance floor with a new partner.

Before they separated, the Captain turned to Jane and with, some hesitation, asked,”Miss Bennet, may I call on you tomorrow?”

If Jane was surprised, it did not show on her countenance. Rather she smiled and replied, “That would give me a great deal of pleasure, Sir. I would be pleased to receive you.”

“I will call at two in the afternoon, then. Good day, Miss Bennet.” The Captain then took his leave of the Gardiners and Elizabeth.

The remainder of the evening passed very enjoyably for all; however, Mr. Gardiner was not disposed to tarry until the last dance, given his wife’s condition, and they departed when Mrs. Gardiner started to feel fatigued. Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were unhappy to leave and could view the evening's entertainment with considerable pleasure.

Later, as the sisters readied for bed, they considered the information that the Gardiners were able to impart about Captain Stovall. Elizabeth said, “I quite like him. He seems a sensible man and, if he is not overly talkative, what he does say has much value. He may not be overly attractive but I like his countenance.”

Jane looked at her sister, “Lizzy, I thought him quite attractive. I cannot remember when I have enjoyed talking to a gentleman more.”

“It is good that he plans to call tomorrow then.” laughed Elizabeth.

Jane became a little pensive, “Shall I tell him about Lydia, do you think?”

“No Jane, I would not. At least, not yet. We should talk to our aunt about this, but I see no point in telling about Lydia until you know if his intentions are serious. Although I admit to have rarely seen a clearer interest by a gentleman.”

Jane took comfort from these words and both retired to their beds and, while Jane fell quickly asleep, Elizabeth found her thoughts troubled by a vision of Mr. Darcy. “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” Much of his proposal had now been forgotten, these words remained. She was no longer insensible of the meaning of the many glances she had received from him – admiration, not disdain, had been their content - nor could she deny his handsomeness of person nor ignore his worth as a brother and manager of his estate. When she considered all the other signs of his regard that she had misunderstood, she could feel the mortification of her truly magnificent misjudgement. She still could not regret her refusal but she did regret the loss of an opportunity to understand him better. She knew she could not anticipate ever meeting him again. Their social circles were too different to allow that possibility; she would not think of him any more, truly she would not.

Chapter 12

Saturday, January 2, 1813 - Gracechurch Street, London

Captain Stovall arrived at the Gardiner front door at precisely two in the afternoon. If he was disconcerted by the presence of two other gentlemen callers, there was no evidence of such on his countenance as he paused in the doorway. Quickly advancing into the room, he paid his respects to Mrs. Gardiner and Jane and Elizabeth and acknowledged the introduction to the other gentlemen with a short bow. Elizabeth removed a work basket containing her embroidery materials from a chair next to Jane and Captain Stovall was not slow to occupy it. His back to the rest of the room, he acknowledged the manoeuvre with a small smile at Elizabeth.

After asking after their health and inquiring whether they had recovered from the rigours of the ball, the conversation moved on to a discussion of the theatre plays currently being performed. Stovall was quiet throughout the discussion, admitting that, due to his service at sea, he had never seen a play actually acted out. He had read a number of Shakespeare's plays while at sea but had never been ashore at a time and location to visit a theatre. He indicated that he planed to do so while in London.

After a short time, the other gentlemen departed declaring their interest to call again. Jane could see Captain Stovall visibly relax when they left. Jane turned to the Captain and with a gentle smile, said, “Captain Stovall, I admit to some confusion. I remember you saying you have been at sea for twenty years. You must have been but a child when you went to sea.”

"The navy is very different from the army. To become an officer you have to start very young and advancement is usually quite slow.”

“How came you to the navy?”

"My story is not really all that unusual. It was more a matter of necessity than interest. You see, my father died when I had about eleven years. A fever swept through our area and I lost my father, who had a small living outside York, and two younger brothers. Only my mother, a much younger sister and myself survived. With my father’s death, my mother had to depend on the generosity of her brother. Fortunately, he was able to settle her in modest comfort in York. For me, an occupation became necessary and, through his contacts, my uncle, himself a naval officer, was able to secure me an appointment as a midshipman. I admit I spent the first few months at sea questioning his decision and wondering if I would survive. It took me some time to get my sea legs I assure you. Now, I would have no other life.”

“I believe you have not seen your mother for five years! She must be wishing for you to visit.” Jane could not envision being separated from her parents for that many years. Much as they might irritate and anger her at times, they were her parents, and the love and care they had bestowed could not be forgotten.

”I correspond with my mother very regularly although delivery of letters whilst at sea is quite irregular. I sometimes do not get a letter for six months and then receive four or five all at once. But yes, I do want to visit my mother but cannot take leave just yet. The repairs being made to my ship will require my presence for another month or so. I plan to travel and visit her around Easter.”

“I have no doubt she will be overjoyed to have you home. Your ship is in Portsmouth is it not? It must be quite difficult to oversee the work from London?”

“Yes it is. However, I do not have to be there every day. Some Captains take lodging in Portsmouth while repairs are made but I decided to come to London and travel down to Portsmouth as necessary. I usually have to visit it once a week to gauge how things are progressing. A Captain has to stay on top of the repair yard to make sure things are done properly. I will be travelling to Portsmouth on Monday next and will be back on Wednesday.” Stovall paused and very deliberately stated, “I am quite happy with my decision to come to London. If I had not, I would not have been invited to the ball by my friends.”

Jane blushed very prettily at the implied comment. Captain Stovall gave her a slight smile and then directed the conversation to other topics. Jane quite approved of Captain Stovall. He had every appearance of being a considerate son and brother, and his responsibilities as a Captain of a ship showed the dedication and determination to be successful. She felt she would have no trouble respecting him but could she learn to esteem and love him? And, more importantly, would he give her the opportunity to do so?

Mrs. Gardiner joined the discussion and the remainder of his visit was spent discussing the attractions of the northern areas with Mrs. Gardner championing the beauties of Derbyshire and the Captain good-naturedly defending Yorkshire. Before he left, he asked for, and received, permission to call again the next day.

That evening Captain Stovall was the subject of an extended discussion between the Gardiners. Their primary concern was to ensure that Jane was not hurt again by the actions of a suitor. His financial position was not known, although he was rumoured to have done very well in terms of prize money. Of the Captain’s interest, there was little doubt. Of Jane’s, even less. An invitation would be extended to the Captain to dine with them tomorrow and, Mr. Gardiner would, as delicately as possible, provide some information to the Captain about Jane’s lack of dowry and prospects.


Sunday, January 3, 1823

When the Gardiner family and their nieces attended church in the morning, Jane was pleased to see Captain Stovall waiting by the entrance. He accepted their invitation to sit with them and Mrs. Gardiner unobtrusively arranged for him to sit beside Jane. As he explained to Jane, while services were conducted almost every Sunday on board ship, such services were less formal than those held in a church. In any event, he listened carefully throughout the service and, if not gifted with a particularly melodic voice, displayed considerable enthusiasm when singing hymns.

As they left the church, the Gardiners invited the Captain to lunch with them and stay for dinner that evening. Jane and Elizabeth had planned, since it was a beautiful day and not too cold, to take the older children for an outing to the park after lunch. The Captain asked to join them and was readily included in the party. They returned to the Gardiner home and the three oldest Gardiner children joined the adults for the luncheon. As Mrs. Gardiner explained, they wanted their children to learn how to conduct themselves properly in society and such occasions, particularly if someone not of the family was present, were a means of instructing them in proper behaviour.

The Gardiner’s youngest child was deemed too young, at three years, to join her elder siblings in the outing. So, after the meal was over, the three older children were taken by their governess to be properly and warmly dressed. Jane and Elizabeth donned their warmest pelisses, bonnets and gloves and, accompanied by the governess and Captain Stovall, strolled in the direction of the park. They quickly separated into three groups with the children racing ahead followed as closely as possible by Elizabeth and the governess. The Captain and Jane strolled more slowly and, when they entered the park itself, the Captain offered Jane his arm citing the possible dangers if there was ice underfoot. The offer was accepted although Jane saw no imminent danger from ice.

As they strolled, the Captain tried to direct the questions so as to encourage Jane to discuss her life in Hertfordshire, her family, the local society. Jane was quite aware of his purpose and disposed to answer as frankly as was reasonably possible. If she minimized certain aspects, such as her mother’s lack of propriety, she did not hide information about the size of the estate or the entailment to Mr. Collins. The Captain was particularly interested in those activities which pertained to managing the estate and the reason for his interest was quickly revealed. Once the war was over, he intended to acquire a small estate in the north, preferably in Yorkshire and near the sea. For, as he said, “I have lived on the sea for twenty years now; I could no more give it up completely than I could stop breathing. As well, I want to live close to my mother and sister. After being absent in their lives for so many years, I wish to know and enjoy their company.”

As they continued their stroll, the other part of their group rejoined them and, after completing a circuit of the park, headed back to the Gardiner house. With a laugh, Jane teased her sister, "It is fortunate indeed that there is no snow on the ground, else Lizzy would have started a snowball fight”. Elizabeth just laughed and expressed the hope that snow would come soon because she dearly loved a snowball fight with her young cousins.

The children had dissipated much of their energy and were now content to walk with the adults until they returned home. Once divested of their outerwear, the two middle Gardiner children importuned their favourite cousin, Jane, to read to them. She was quite willing to oblige and settling with the children in a large armchair in one corner of the room, read to them quietly until it was time to eat. The eldest Gardiner child, Phillip, was more interested in learning about the sea and naval life from the Captain and the latter was most willing to oblige. Questions from Phillip and Elizabeth encouraged him to talk about the day-to-day activities aboard ship. If he was aware of the occasional glance and small smile directed at him by Jane, it was not possible to tell from his countenance.

Dinner was as enjoyable as a meal can be when attended by persons possessed of knowledge and amiability. Mr. Gardiner sat with the captain to his right and Jane to his left with the others sitting as they chose. Conversation was quiet, even with the presence of three active children, and embraced a variety of subjects from theatre to the war in Europe to books. Once the meal was ended, the Captain and Mr. Gardiner retired to the library for a glass of port. Mr. Gardiner took the opportunity to talk privately, saying,

“Captain Stovall, I realize that I am being rather premature and I am definitely not asking about your intentions with respect to my niece. Mrs. Gardiner and I could not love Jane and Elizabeth more if they were our own children. Their father is a kind man but the estate is not large and their portion is meagre. As well, I have to tell you that Jane was treated very poorly by a young man over a year ago. He paid her a great deal of attention to the point that there were reasonable expectations of an offer of marriage; but he suddenly left and she has not heard from him since. I would not want her treated poorly again. I mean no offence by these words and I hope you take none.”

Captain Stovall was obviously a little surprised at Mr. Gardiner’s words but did not appear particularly upset. After some thought, he responded, ”I hardly know my own feelings and thoughts yet. I am coming to admire your niece very much. Not only is she lovely to look at but she seems to have a warm and loving nature. I do want to get to know her better. Her dowry is not something I need care about.”

“Then let us say no more on the matter for now and rejoin the ladies. Perhaps we can get Lizzy to play and sing for us. I think you would enjoy her performance.”

The two gentlemen returned to the ladies and were successful in persuading Elizabeth to perform, which she did to everyone’s satisfaction, for nearly an hour. Since Captain Stovall wished to make an early departure for Portsmouth the next morning, he took his leave but not before stating that he expected to return on Wednesday and requested, and was given permission, to call on Thursday.

After Jane and Elizabeth readied themselves for bed, they met, as they frequently did, on the latter’s bed to discuss matters close to their hearts. Jane was reluctant to reveal too much of her feelings. She admitted that she thought that she could esteem and respect Captain Stovall but she did not yet know him well enough to be sure of her feelings. “I think I could easily love and respect him, Lizzy, but I have been in his company only a few times. It is too soon but I admit I think he is a good man and his profession is not one for men who lack resolve.” With this, Elizabeth had to be satisfied. Teased by Jane about her own callers, Elizabeth could only quip, “Perhaps my mother is correct, my impertinence seems to frighten even the bravest of men. They came, they saw and they vanished.”

Chapter 13

Tuesday, January 5, 1813 - Pemberley

Darcy and Georgiana were relaxing in the library when the butler, Mr. Reynolds knocked and entered to inform them that a carriage was sighted and should arrive in ten minutes.

“That will be Bingley. Good, he has not run into any bad weather.” Darcy leaped to his feet and moved quickly towards the front doors, followed closely by Georgiana. It was too cold to wait outside and so they greeted Bingley in the front hall when he entered.

After the usual greetings, Darcy directed Bingley to his room to bathe and change from his travelling clothes before dinner. He rejoined them an hour later looking much refreshed. Dinner was a quiet affair held in the small dining room with just the three of them. Conversation was amiable and comfortable as they discussed their Christmas activities. For Bingley, it had been the first Christmas spent in company with his father’s family since his childhood. He regaled them with stories of the various relatives and quickly had Georgiana laughing at the antics of some of his younger relatives.

After the meal, they repaired to the library to continue their chat in front of the fire. Darcy and Bingley enjoyed a glass of port whilst Georgiana was allowed a glass of wine, albeit cut with water at her brother’s insistence. The conversation continued in a lighthearted manner for the remainder of the evening covering such topics as the wars against Napoleon and the Americans, theatre, plays, books and music. As the evening wound down, Georgiana induced both men to join her for a sleigh ride the next day. Since both Darcy and Bingley had business to transact in the morning, Darcy to meet with his steward for planting plans and Bingley to review several reports he brought with him, it was agreed that they would venture out in the early afternoon.

~~~

Georgiana was practising a new piece when she realized that there was someone in the music room besides Mrs. Annesley. Turning, she realized that Mr. Bingley had come in to sit in an armchair behind her. He quickly apologized, “I am very sorry. I did not mean to intrude and interrupt your session.”

“You certainly do,” she replied with a smile; “but it does not follow that the interruption must be unwelcome.”

“I should be very sorry indeed if it were. We are good friends, are we not?”

“Indeed we are, I hope. “

"Tell me Miss Darcy, will you be coming out this season?”

“No, my brother and aunt have decided that it would better to wait another year.”

“How you feel about it?”

Georgiana’s response was thoughtful, “I am quite happy to wait. Brother has said that I will attend a number of balls and family parties. I will only be allowed to dance with family but it will be good experience.”

“I am actually still trying to accept the reality that you are even considering coming ‘out’. Only yesterday it seems you were still in the nursery and now look at you, a delightful young lady.” Bingley laughed, “I hope I have not been improper. You are very like a sister to me.”

“Really?”

Georgiana was not altogether sure she wanted Mr. Bingley to think of her as a sister and thought a change of topic was in order, “I understand you are arranging to transfer your household to York. Have you sold your house in London?”

“Yes, indeed. In fact, my furniture is being carted to York as we speak. While I have some business in London and will be visiting my sisters, my main purpose is to complete the sale.”

“Will you miss London? I seem to remember that you enjoyed society, the parties and balls, quite well.”

"I have found that business dealings absorb a lot more of my time than in the past. Nonetheless, I still find time for parties and dances and quite enjoy them. I do not find the loss to be irksome at all. But speaking of balls, will your brother host a special ball for your ‘coming out’ next year?”

“I believe so. Aunt Eleanor is also talking of hosting a ball.”

“Indeed. Your brother will obviously dance the first set with you but would you save me a set in your first ball?”

“Of course. I look forward to it.”

Georgiana was not sure how to understand Mr. Bingley’s request. The compliment of being asked did not escape her. She rather liked the changes that were taking place in Mr. Bingley, but his intentions were not clear. Did he ask because she was his friend’s sister or because he was possibly interested in her? Mrs. Annesley had been quietly noting the whole exchange and thought she saw enough to speak to Mr. Darcy.

For Bingley's part, he was only just becoming aware that his friend's sister was growing into an attractive young lady. Too young as yet for serious interest, but, he thought, getting to know the young woman she was becoming, would be very interesting. If she had some of the characteristics of her brother, she could be a very formidable woman; however, would she, or her brother, ever consider someone like himself, with a trade background, as an appropriate suitor?

The conversation between Georgiana and Bingley continued for several minutes until Darcy entered to say his business was complete and that the sleigh would be waiting for them in a quarter hour. All three made haste to don the warmest clothing available and, shortly thereafter, spent a delightful three hours touring the grounds. Later that evening, Mrs. Annesley related the conversation to Darcy. Inasmuch as Georgiana was unlikely to encounter Bingley with any frequency during the next twelve months, Darcy saw no reason to get overly concerned. He had no real objection to Bingley as suitor given the maturity he seemed to be acquiring. It would be a good match for Georgiana, although most of society might not see it in that light.

Chapter 14

Thursday January 7, 1813 – Gracechurch street, London

While the Gardiners and their nieces were having breakfast, a short note was received by Mrs. Gardiner from Captain Stovall inviting her and her nieces to view an Art Exhibition that afternoon. Mrs. Gardiner did not feel she could spare the time to attend but saw no reason that her nieces should not go and her reply fixed a time for the Captain to arrive at Gracechurch Street.

Captain Stovall arrived as expected and escorted Jane and Elizabeth to his carriage. It took but a half hour to arrive at the site of the exhibition. The Captain was first out of the carriage and offered his hand to assist each lady as she stepped down from it. Offering an arm to each lady they strolled into the building and began moving from room to room, viewing the art pieces and sculptures on display. The exhibition was quite a popular attraction and a considerable number of people were present and progress was slow.

As they strolled from picture to picture, it became obvious that they shared an affinity for particular subjects. Landscapes were a consistent favourite of them all and the presence of several pictures by John Constable were much appreciated. The Captain was attracted by seascapes but had no kind words for several pictures depicting the battle of Trafalgar. “No, No. That will never do!” He cried, “You would never have seen such!” Pressed by Jane and Elizabeth to explain, he pointed to the fact that the ships involved had all their sails displayed. “This will never do,” he stated, “When we enter battle, all sails, but a few, are furled to prevent damage. We carry only enough sail to provide steerage.” Shaking his head at such foolishness by the artist, he quickly led two rather amused ladies to less offensive pictures.

The carriage ride back to Gracechurch Street passed quickly as they discussed the merits of the pictures they had seen and they entered the house satisfied with an afternoon spent in enjoyable company. Captain Stovall approached Mrs. Gardiner, while Jane and Elizabeth were refreshing themselves, to ask for a private interview with Jane. She readily agreed and directed him to Mr. Gardiner’s study. When Jane came downstairs, she was told that Captain Stovall had requested an interview and awaited her in the study.

Jane entered the study to find Captain Stovall absorbed in gazing out the window and quickly seated herself in the chair facing her uncle’s desk. When the Captain seemed oblivious to her presence, her gentle cough startled him and he turned and faced her. That he was nervous and uncertain was obvious. He several times began to speak and then did not. Finally, he shook his head and gave a short laugh, “Miss Bennet, I am as nervous as the day I took command of my first ship. I have never done this before and I am moving in uncharted waters. Please excuse my foolishness.” Jane’s smile and slight nod of her head gave him encouragement to continue.

“Miss Bennet, I am a plain-speaking man. I have been in your company on several occasions now and find myself drawn to you. Your beauty first caught my attention but it is your good nature, your kindness, your conversation that has drawn me back. I wish to know you better and I wish for you to know me better. To speak very plainly, I wish to court you and, I hope, eventually win your hand in marriage. Will you allow me to court you?”

Jane had trouble controlling the tears that flooded her eyes. Dabbing at them with her handkerchief, she replied, “Captain Stovall, I would very much like to have you court me. What I understand of your character pleases me a great deal and I would like to know you better.” She paused, and then, speaking more slowly, continued, “However, before I give you my answer, I must ask my aunt to join us. There is something she must impart to you that bears on this."

Jane rose and quickly left the room, returning within minutes with her aunt. With her voice under tight control, she looked at an obviously puzzled and concerned Captain Stovall and said, "I am going to ask my aunt to explain something that happened to my family. I trust her to tell the story more than I trust my ability to do so. Aunt, would you speak of Lydia, please.”

Looking directly at the Captain, Mrs. Gardiner spoke quietly, “Captain Stovall, while I have only known you a short time, you have impressed me with your honesty and frankness. We can do no less than afford you the same courtesy. If you like, our honour demands it.”

Captain Stovall looked a little surprised at these words, saying, “I appreciate the compliment, Madam, but that sounds rather ominous.”

“There is a particular situation regarding Jane that you should know about. I know Jane finds it difficult to speak of it even now. You may certainly speak with her in private afterwards should you desire to do so.”

Pausing for a second, Mrs. Gardiner continued, “Last August, Jane’s youngest sister – Lydia – eloped with an officer in the militia. She was but fifteen years old and a wild, unruly child. We have not heard from either since then and our last knowledge of them was that they had reached London. We have given up all hope that they reached Gretna Green and were married. Jane and Elizabeth came to live with us to be removed from the censure that they felt in Hertfordshire. Two more proper young women I have never known, yet they are the ones suffering most from the folly of their sister. I have revealed this to you in confidence. I know that we would all be saddened if this knowledge should cause you to end the courtship, but we would understand your difficulties.”

Captain Stovall returned Mrs. Gardiner’s gaze and looked at Jane's face where distress was evidenced by the tears she was trying to control. Consternation was written on his face as he spoke, “That poor child. How you must worry for her.” As he began to consider the implications of Lydia’s actions, he understood why Mrs. Gardiner had mentioned the problem at all. A more relaxed look appeared on his face as he continued, “I understand your concerns now. For my part, there is no impediment to the courtship. You must understand that I have lived at sea for twenty years. Society and such rules as these have little impact on me and, besides, the reality is that I will probably be much at sea for several more years until this war with the French is finished. I will not be there to bear society’s censure should it occur. My sister is already married so the situation would have no impact on her prospects.”

Mrs. Gardiner smiled and replied, “Well said, Captain, well said. I know that Jane is much relieved. Would you like to speak to her in private for a few minutes?”

"Indeed, I would."

After Mrs. Gardiner had left, he turned to Jane.

“Miss Bennet, this is a distressing story. I can only imagine the sorrow you must have experienced with her loss. You and your aunt were obviously concerned that I might wish to withdraw my offer of courtship when I learned of your sister’s actions. I do not. I most emphatically do not. Should I withdraw, it will only be because I believe that I have failed to secure your affections.“

He considered her for a few seconds before continuing, “I will repeat what I said to your aunt. The censure of society will bother me very little, if at all, and the Admiralty will not be bothered at all. As well, it is my intention to settle in the north, preferable in Yorkshire and well removed from much of society and Hertfordshire. I see no impediment, Miss Bennet, none at all." And then in a teasing tone said, "Now, I believe I am owed an answer.”

Jane looked at him with a watery smile and replied, "Indeed, Sir, you are and my answer is Yes, I would be honoured to accept your offer of courtship."

Captain Stovall paused to consider something further, then asked, “Miss Bennet, forgive me if I am too blunt. I suspect that not being exposed to polite society for twenty years has caused me to be less careful of the proprieties than I should be. But I must ask, do you have questions of me?”

Jane shook her head, smiled at him and said, “No, Sir. I appreciate your candour greatly. I can only return the compliment and speak frankly also. You have relieved my mind since I confess that the thought you might end the courtship, distressed me very much. “

"Miss Bennet, I will make this promise to you. I will deal honestly with you and, since the main purpose of a courtship in my opinion is to determine if two people can build a life together, I will attempt to answer truthfully any question you may pose."

Jane rose from her chair and, taking his arm, said, “Sir, I thank you and will attempt to do likewise should you have questions. Now, I believe we should rejoin the others.”

With that they returned to the parlour and Jane announced to her aunt and sister that Captain Stovall had asked to court her and that she had accepted. The approbation of both was quickly apparent to the Captain and he delighted in the happiness that was obvious on Jane’s face. Sitting next to Jane, he quietly began discussing his plans for the next month or so. His responsibilities as Captain required that he visit Portsmouth every week and he intended to do so from Monday to Wednesday, thus leaving the rest of the week to spend in London. While here he hoped to attend a theatre play, visit a few museums and bookstores and walk in Hyde Park to see the “ton.” The latter was spoken with a smile and elicited a most unladylike-like snort from Jane.

Dinner was again a convivial affair and Captain Stovall was prevailed upon to talk, to the particular delight of young Phillip Gardiner, about the West Indies and his duties and his experiences there. After dinner, Mr. Gardiner invited Captain Stovall to join him in his library. Once settled in armchairs, each with a glass of port in hand, they conversed amiably with Mr. Gardiner telling the Captain stories about Jane when she was younger.

When the gentlemen rejoined the ladies, Elizabeth was prevailed upon to entertain them once again on the piano for a half hour. Before he left, Captain Stovall indicated an interest in attending a stage play and wished to know which evenings might be most appropriate. Learning that the Gardiners and their nieces were expecting to dine out Friday evening, they fixed on Saturday or the following Thursday to attend the play. Captain Stovall would make the necessary arrangements.

That evening Mr. Gardiner sent a post to Mr. Bennet, advising him of the courtship and requesting that it be kept secret from Mrs. Bennet for the time being.

---

I would like to express my appreciation to my Beta (Alida) who has cleaned up a lot of small mistakes. The content remains my fault. I may not post again until after Christmas for the obvious reasons.

Part V

The two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning; and Mr. Collins having been in waiting near the lodges, to make them his parting obeisance, was able to bring home the pleasing intelligence of their appearing in very good health, and in as tolerable spirits as could be expected, after the melancholy scene so lately gone through at Rosings. To Rosings he then hastened to console Lady Catherine and her daughter; and on his return brought back, with great satisfaction, a message from her ladyship, importing that she felt herself so dull as to make her very desirous of having them all to dine with her.

Elizabeth could not see Lady Catherine without recollecting that, had she chosen it, she might, by this time, have been presented to her as her future niece; nor could she think, without a smile, of what her ladyship’s indignation would have been. “What would she have said? How would she have behaved?” were questions with which she amused herself. That the response would be unfavourable, she had little doubt and she could not be sorry for the discretion to avoid and spare herself and the Collinses the discomfort of such attentions, where it served no purpose to suffer them. If her engagement had been made known, she was certain that her presence would have been equally distasteful to Lady Catherine and to her cousin, and her continued stay at the parsonage very much in doubt.

Their first subject was the diminution of the Rosings party. ”I assure you, I feel it exceedingly,” said Lady Catherine; “I believe nobody feels the loss of friends so much as I do. But I am particularly attached to these young men; and know them to be so much attached to me! They were excessively sorry to go! But so they always are. The dear colonel rallied his spirits tolerably till just at last; but Darcy seemed to feel it most acutely, more, I think, than last year. His attachment to Rosings certainly increases.”

Mr. Collins had a compliment, and an allusion to throw in here, which were kindly smiled on by the mother and daughter. Lady Catherine observed, after dinner, that Miss Bennet seemed out of spirits; and immediately accounting for it herself, by supposing that she did not like to go home again so soon, she added, "But, if that is the case, you must write to your mother to beg that you may stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad of your company, I am sure.”

“I am much obliged to your ladyship for your kind invitation,” replied Elizabeth, “but it is not in my power to accept it. I must be in town next Saturday.”

“Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six weeks. I expected you to stay two months. I told Mrs. Collins so before you came. There can be no occasion for your going so soon. Mrs. Bennet could certainly spare you for another fortnight.”

“But my father cannot. He wrote last week to hurry my return.”

“Oh! Your father of course may spare you, if your mother can. Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father. And, if you will stay another month complete, it will be in my power to take one of you as far as London, for I am going there early in June, for a week; and as Dawson does not object to the Barouche box, there will be very good room for one of you and indeed, if the weather should happen to be cool, I should not object to taking you both, as you are neither of you large.”

“You are all kindness, Madam; but I believe I must abide by our original plan; however, I see no reason why Maria should not avail herself of your generous offer.” Elizabeth had just realized that Maria’s company on their return to Hertfordshire with Darcy would severely inhibit conversation and, if Maria could be persuaded to stay at the parsonage for an extra fortnight, she would be able to more easily enjoy the ride with her betrothed.

Maria was applied to and, with very little persuasion, was agreeable to remaining for another fortnight. Elizabeth did not fail to notice that Charlotte had been surprised at her suggestion and had favoured her with more than one sharp look during the ensuing discussion but had, nevertheless, ably supported an extension of her sister’s visit. Lady Catherine seemed resigned to the loss of Elizabeth’s presence but her desire to be of service was soothed by the knowledge that Mrs. Collins’ sister would remain behind. “Mrs. Collins, you must send a servant with Miss Bennet. You know I always speak my mind, and I cannot bear the idea of a young woman travelling post by herself. It is highly improper. You must contrive to send somebody. I have the greatest dislike in the world to that sort of thing. Young women should always be properly guarded and attended, according to their situation in life. When my niece Georgiana went to Ramsgate last summer, I made a point of her having two men servants go with her. Miss Darcy, the daughter of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, and Lady Anne, could not have appeared with propriety in a different manner. I am excessively attentive to all those things. You must send John with Miss Bennet, Mrs. Collins. I am glad it occurred to me to mention it; for it would really be discreditable to you to let her go alone.”

“My uncle is to send a servant for me.”

“Oh! - Your uncle! - He keeps a man-servant, does he? I am very glad you have somebody who thinks of those things. Where shall you change horses? - Oh! Bromley, of course. - If you mention my name at the Bell, you will be attended to.”

Lady Catherine had many other questions to ask respecting her journey, and as she did not answer them all herself, attention was necessary, which Elizabeth believed to be lucky for her, for, with a mind so occupied, she might have forgotten where she was. Reflection must be reserved for solitary hours. When they at last returned to the parsonage, she had not long been removed to her room when she was visited by Charlotte, who wasted no time questioning her friend’s reasons for encouraging the extension of Maria’s visit.

“It is certainly not that I object to her company, as you well know. You both have been most welcome but I must wonder at your reason for proposing it?”

Elizabeth tried to disclaim any reason other than a concern for her friend’s comfort and happiness but Charlotte would have none of it.

"It will not do, Lizzy. It will not do!”

It was clear to Elizabeth that her attempt to deflect her friend had added weight to her supposition that Elizabeth had an ulterior motive and, Charlotte’s remembrances quickly gave a direction to the cause.

“This has to do with Mr. Darcy, does it not? What…?”

Elizabeth interrupted to say, “Please. Do not importune me further on this matter. I cannot satisfy your curiosity and I believe you would not wish me to do so. All will become clear after I leave and all will, I believe, be well.”

With this Charlotte was, after a silence lasting several minutes, forced to be content and, if during the remainder of Elizabeth’s stay, she allowed her gaze to rest on her friend with a rather wondering look, she refrained from further comment.

Whenever Elizabeth was alone, she gave way to it as the greatest relief; and not a day went by without a solitary walk, in which she might indulge in all the delight of pleasant recollections. Their engagements at Rosings were as frequent during the last week of her stay as they had been at first. Two days before she was to leave she received a very thick letter from Jane which, after retiring to her room for privacy, and upon being opened was found to contain, in addition to that from Jane herself, a letter from her father and one from Darcy. Unsure which to read first, she chose to read that from her father.

Longbourn
Hertfordshire

My dear child,

I hardly know what to express in this letter. I am sure you can appreciate my surprise when Mr. Darcy sought an interview with me. That he had asked for your hand in marriage and you had consented must rank with the most unexpected of events. My immediate thought, to be sure, was whether you had taken leave of your senses or had been overwhelmed by the gentleman’s wealth and position.

Do not be alarmed. I have given my consent and truly I do not think I could refuse a man of such consequence. I was, I admit, most comforted by your letter although I had to read it a second time to begin to grasp the change in your feelings for him. I rather thought that you disliked his manners and attitude even as you respected his character. That you allowed yourself to understand him and to appreciate him speaks well, I believe, for your future together. I do not pretend to know him well, although he was courteous enough to remain for more than an hour to converse with me. I think I could come to like him quite well although he is deficient in that foolishness which I had thought a most desirable trait in a son. Unfortunately, he is too intelligent to miss my attempts to make sport of him - but appears good-humoured enough to not take offence - and quick enough to take a bit of sport with me.

I am pleased for you, Lizzy. I do not think I could lose you to anyone less worthy. I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable unless you truly esteemed your husband, unless you looked up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger in an unequal marriage. That you have professed to esteem and respect Mr. Darcy, is of great satisfaction to me. If, as you have confessed, your esteem does not match his at the moment, the thoughts expressed in your letter lead me to believe that any inequality in affection that may currently exist will be of a short duration.

You will be relieved to know that your betrothal has yet to be made known to your mother; that pleasure I would prefer to allow you on your return; however, the prospect of her reaction at the time of your return does not bear thinking on. I will undertake that task myself – although you may be assured it will be left to the very day you shall arrive and no sooner. That the happy event of your return will soon follow upon this letter, will be no little comfort since there have been not two words of sense spoken here since you and Jane departed.

Your loving father

Her pleasure at her father’s support and approval – she knew he must have suffered some disquiet over the thought of losing his most favourite daughter – drew forth a few tears. That he had read her letter and accepted her reasoning – despite his possible reservations – spoke well, she thought, for the conversation that had taken place between her father and her betrothed, who must have made an effort to address and alleviate them. Satisfied with her father’s support, she could no longer refrain from opening the letter from Darcy.

Pemberley House
Curzon Street, London

My dearest Elizabeth,

You can have no idea how much it pleases me to be able to call you such. I have met with and obtained your father’s consent and blessing, as I am sure his letter will confirm. It was a most interesting interview and one that may well have been more uncomfortable had it not been for the letter you so thoughtfully provided. Your father read it twice; I believe the second time more slowly and carefully than the first. His mien when he had finished was considerably relieved – I cannot say happier because I could see that he did not wish to lose you to another, a feeling I am quite able to comprehend.

I made every effort to assure him of my affections and respect for you and, to alleviate his concerns, spoke of our meetings. That there was an inequality of affection I admitted but that I had been assured of both your esteem and respect and these, I firmly believe, will form a basis for a most felicitous marriage.

We conversed for over an hour and, at the end, I had come to appreciate your father’s wit and intelligence and, as well, the source of your own. I will not pretend, however, to understand your father fully. An hour or so is not sufficient to that purpose, but I propose to spend most of our engagement period in Hertfordshire and look forward to spending such time as I am not in your company, in his to my benefit.

I will add that I visited your sister, Miss Bennet, at Gracechurch Street and was most pleased to meet your Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. They invited Georgiana and me to dine, once informed of our engagement. I like them both very well indeed and look forward to improving our acquaintance. My sister was most happy to meet your sister and aunt and they both made her more comfortable in company than I had ever previously seen, apart from family. Of course, they will become part of her family and that is a happy thought for us both. Georgiana is most desirous of making your acquaintance and, to that end, has insisted that she accompany me when I travel to Rosings to bring you home. I was not inclined to disoblige her and you will therefore be introduced when I arrive. We are both of us looking forward to that happy event. I have found that I miss your company exceedingly and can hardly wait to see you once more.

Some news of a practical nature must be imparted. First, I have apprised Bingley of my error in respect of your sister’s affections and also of my actions in regard to concealing her visit to London. He was exceedingly angry with me and even more so with his sisters. I have been forgiven but I cannot speak to his relations with his sisters. I will reveal that he has visited Gracechurch Street, but more than that I will leave to your sister to confess.

We shall stop overnight at the Gardiners before travelling to Longbourn the next day. Bingley will accompany us – including your sister – and Georgiana and I will reside at Netherfield at Bingley’s request.

There is much more to discuss which I will reserve for our trip back from Rosings. These days until we meet again will pass with interminable slowness. To have to be separated from you so soon after you gifted me with your hand, has made the lack of it in my own almost unbearable. I find I miss you greatly.

With all my love,
William

Elizabeth was not satisfied with but a single reading of this letter but must read it several times in order to extract all possible meaning and pleasure from it. That her father and betrothed were able to meet on an amiable basis was immensely satisfying. Despite his faults, she loved her father dearly and could not wish for more than that he and Darcy were comfortable in each other’s company. That Darcy had met and enjoyed the company of her aunt and uncle Gardiner, to the extent of dining with them, was both gratifying and surprising. That he had done so on his own initiative spoke well for the durability of the changes in his manner that he had effected. Finally, when considering that his sister was to accompany her on the return to Town, she was glad to have persuaded Maria to remain in Hunsford. A carriage ride of some four hours should provide a good opportunity to start developing an acquaintance with one who was to become as a sister to her. ‘I find I miss you greatly’ Elizabeth’s thoughts kept returning to those words and knew that they had awakened an echo in her. She had come to rely on his company as well and his absence had lowered her own spirits. With a sigh, she turned to her sister’s letter.

Gracechurch Street
London

Dearest Lizzy,

We have much to speak on when you arrive in London and, be warned now, that I will have it all. Not one morsel shall you conceal from me and not a moment’s sleep until you have done so. To be engaged to Mr. Darcy! You have scarce mentioned his name in your letters. Our aunt and I agree, you have been most sly! If you have come to love him – and I never thought poorly of him, as you know – then I will only say that I am most happy for you. Have I said I like him very much? If he loves you, he must be a good man.

I m sure that Mr. Darcy has told you all – I assume you read his letter first or at least I hope you did – and hence that Mr. Bingley has called us. You cannot imagine my surprise or my distress upon seeing him again today. He stayed but a quarter hour and asked to call again which he will do tomorrow. Now that this meeting is over, I feel perfectly easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be embarrassed again by his coming. I am glad he dines here tomorrow. It will then be publicly seen that, on both sides, we meet only as common and indifferent acquaintance. I cannot think myself so weak as to be in danger now.

I can almost hear you laugh and tease me, Lizzy but I speak the simple truth. Although he remains the most amiable man of my acquaintance, I cannot allow myself to hope for more. One thing he did mention to my aunt caused me considerable surprise. Apparently his sisters did not inform him of my presence in Town these last months. He learned of it from Mr. Darcy but yesterday and would, he told my aunt, have called sooner had he known.

There must be some great misunderstanding here, Lizzy because I am certain that Miss Bingley gave me to believe that she had told him of my presence. I cannot understand why she would do so unless my suspicions of duplicity on her part are justified. If so, I am most sorry for her.

I will not try to speak of more in this letter. You will be joining me in a matter of days and we will have many opportunities to discuss all that has happened. Please give my regards to Charlotte. I hope that all is well with her.

Your most impatient and curious sister,
Jane

That Darcy would speak to Bingley she had never doubted; but whether that gentleman would wish to see Jane once more had been cause for some concern, and she had never expected that he would visit so quickly. From the speed with which he responded, and knowing her sister’s heart, she now had every hope that the attraction between them would develop in the most felicitous manner. Her sister might try to dissemble, but her heart on this had never been closed to Elizabeth and she was in no doubt that her sister would be engaged in a matter of a week or two.

The very last evening was spent at Rosings; and her Ladyship again enquired minutely into the particulars of her journey, gave directions as to the best method of packing, and was so urgent on the necessity of placing gowns in the only right way, that Elizabeth almost thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all the work of the morning, and pack her trunk afresh.

When they parted, Lady Catherine, with great condescension, wished her a good journey, and invited her to come to Hunsford again next year; and Miss De Bourgh exerted herself so far as to curtsey and hold out her hand to her.

~~~

On Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins met for breakfast, a few minutes before the others appeared; and he took the opportunity of paying the parting civilities which he deemed indispensably necessary.

“I know not, Miss Elizabeth,” said he, “whether Mrs. Collins has yet expressed her sense of your kindness in coming to us, but I am very certain you will not leave the house without receiving her thanks for it. The favour of your company has been much felt, I assure you. We know how little there is to tempt anyone to our humble abode. Our plain manner of living, our small rooms, and few domestics, and the little we see of the world, must make Hunsford extremely dull to a young lady like yourself; but I hope you will believe us grateful for the condescension, and that we have done everything in our power to prevent your spending your time unpleasantly.”

Elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assurances of happiness. She had spent six weeks with great enjoyment; and the pleasure of being with Charlotte, and the kind attentions she had received, must make her feel the obliged. Of her engagement she could say nothing, but that it alone made the visit exceptionably pleasant added warmth to her expressions of gratitude to Mr. Collins.

Mr. Collins was gratified; and with a more smiling solemnity replied, “It gives me the greatest pleasure to hear that you have passed your time not disagreeably. We have certainly done our best; and most fortunately having it in our power to introduce you to very superior society, and, from our connection with Rosings, the frequent means of varying the humble home scene, I think we may flatter ourselves that your Hunsford visit cannot have been entirely irksome. Our situation with regard to Lady Catherine’s family is indeed the sort of extraordinary advantage and blessing which few can boast. You see on what a footing we are. You see how continually we are engaged there. In truth, I must acknowledge that, with all the disadvantages of this humble parsonage, I should not think anyone abiding in it an object of compassion while they are sharers of our intimacy at Rosings.”

Words were insufficient for the elevation of his feelings; and he was obliged to walk about the room, while Elizabeth tried to unite civility and truth in a few short sentences. “You may, in fact, carry a very favourable report of us into Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself, at least, that you will be able to do so. Lady Catherine’s great attentions to Mrs. Collins you have been a daily witness of; and altogether I trust it does not appear that your friend has drawn an unfortunate - ; but on this point it will be as well to be silent. Only let me assure you, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that I can from my heart most cordially wish you equal felicity in marriage. My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of thinking. There is in everything a most remarkable resemblance of character and ideas between us. We seem to have been designed for each other.”

Elizabeth could safely say that it was a great happiness where that was the case, and with equal sincerity could add that she firmly believed and rejoiced in his domestic comforts. She was not sorry, however, to have the recital of them interrupted by the entrance of the lady from whom they sprung. Poor Charlotte! - it was melancholy to leave her to such society! - But she had chosen it with her eyes open; and though evidently regretting that her visitors were to go, she did not seem to ask for compassion. Her home and her housekeeping, her parish and her poultry, and all their dependent concerns, had not yet lost their charms.

At length the coach arrived and, if Elizabeth had been less focused on the gentleman who stepped out, she might well have marvelled at it. But indeed her eyes and thoughts had but a single interest and she could hardly account for the surge of pleasure she felt upon seeing him smile at her. Most observers might be forgiven for having missed it altogether since it was confined to a slight curve of his lips and a softening of his eyes but in the past weeks she had come to know it well. A soft murmur from inside the coach reclaimed his attention and a tinge of blush was the only sign of discomfit as he turned to assist a young lady to descend.

Elizabeth walked towards them, eager for the formidable introduction to take place. With astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as herself. From Wickham she had been told that Miss Darcy was much like her brother – proud, very proud – and while she was not inclined to believe much of what he had said, she could not escape the thought that in this respect he might not have been wrong. The observation of but only a few minutes convinced her that Miss Darcy was only exceedingly shy. She found it difficult to obtain even a word from her beyond a monosyllable.

Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth; and though little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother, but there was sense and good-humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle. Elizabeth, who had expected to find in her as acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was much relieved by discerning such different feelings. Elizabeth turned to Darcy saying, in a teasing manner, “I believe, sir, I am much in your debt. You have gifted me with a delightful sister.”

After she spoke, she heard a gasp behind her and turned to see Charlotte looking at her with a wondering eye. A brief nod from Elizabeth was all it took to satisfy that lady’s suspicions, but the reaction of her husband was altogether different as he reddened and prepared to speak.

“Cousin Elizabeth, how dare you to …”

Mr. Darcy’s rather crisp tone interrupted the flow of words before it could properly get underway, “Mr. Collins. I thank you for your care of my betrothed. I will relieve you of all further responsibility and will be taking Miss Bennet with me back to Longbourn.” He paused and looked quite sternly at Mr. Collins, “I am sure you wish to express your congratulations to your cousin on our engagement!”

Mr. Collins seemed bereft of the ability to form a comprehensible sentence and, it was clear to all – except perhaps Maria –, that thoughts of his patroness’s extreme displeasure, his cousin’s impropriety in aspiring to rise above her station, perhaps even a sense of injustice that a woman who had the effrontery to refuse his proposal could, by some means that he could not fathom, have been offered and accepted an offer of marriage that was so materially superior to his own. Fortunately for them all, his wife, sensible to the implications of her friend’s engagement, had drawn him aside to talk quietly and forcibly with him. A firm hand on his arm seemed sufficient to prevent his departure for Rosings, a trip he seemed to wish to make if his frequent looks in that direction were indicative of his intentions. Elizabeth thought she heard her friend murmur ‘cousin’ with extra emphasis although she did not detect any appreciable change in Mr. Collins’ demeanour.

As Darcy, Elizabeth and Miss Darcy conversed quietly together – keeping a wary eye on the Collinses – footmen were loading and lashing Elizabeth’s baggage to the coach. That done, the Darcys and Elizabeth took their leave; Elizabeth, whispering her intention to write and inform her friend of all that had taken place and, although receiving congratulations from Charlotte, was unsurprised at her cousin’s curt bow and silence on the matter. The omission of any sign of approval was not unexpected; nor was she disturbed by the lack, although the thought that her friend would bear the brunt of displeasure from her cousin and Lady Catherine could not fail to cause some unhappiness.

As she stepped into the coach, she realized that never, in her brief existence, had she seen a finer coach, let alone travel in one. To say it was large was to do it little justice; it could apparently seat six with much ease; was strongly built and well-sprung with an eye to comfort and security. The windows had glass panes to reduce the discomfort of dust and the exterior was not ostentatious, being a glossy ebony, despite a patina of dust, and sporting a small discrete family crest on the door. Having travelled in Lady Catherine’s coaches, she could not but hope that the differences between the Darcy and de Bourgh coaches would be reflected in the Darcy homes.

The warmth of Darcy’s hand as he assisted her to enter, caused her a frisson of pleasure as she took a seat and her decision to sit beside Miss Darcy was to allow her to further the acquaintance as they travelled to London. Once Darcy had entered, the coach lurched off and, to Elizabeth’s surprise, not towards London but Rosings instead. Darcy, noticing her surprise, quickly spoke to allay her concerns, “I must inform my aunt of our engagement and, while I could write from London, I prefer to face her directly.” At Elizabeth’s quizzical look, he grimaced, “I can predict her displeasure with ease in either event but would not preclude her visiting London to express it should I inform her by letter.” A gentle snort came from the young lady beside her, caused both Darcy and Elizabeth to grin and Darcy to continue, “Yes, well... as I said, I fear I must face her in either event, and felt it best to do so while I am now here. If I don’t, she will learn of it from Mr. Collins and that is not acceptable.”

Elizabeth nodded, “I had not thought of that aspect. Poor Charlotte. I fear her life will be … uncomfortable for some time.”

By this time, they had drawn up to the front of Rosings and Darcy wasted no time seeking entrance o the house. Once he had left, Elizabeth directed her attention to Miss Darcy and gently began to draw her out. It was not an easy process but by the time that Darcy rejoined them, they had progressed to calling the other by their given names and had found several topics of interest including music, Pemberley and Mr. Darcy himself. Elizabeth’s desire to know her future husband better made her receptive, even eager, to hear stories about him and that appeared to be a subject on which Miss Darcy was prepared to expound.

Elizabeth realized that Darcy must have been gone over a quarter hour and was beginning to wonder at the extent of his aunt’s displeasure when he abruptly exited the house and threw himself into the carriage, pounding the roof to signal their departure. His anger was palatable on both countenance and body, and both young ladies shared a brief look before studiously ignoring his presence for some five minutes or so. Finally, sensing that his mood had lasted a sufficient time, Elizabeth leaned forward and, ignoring propriety, placed her hand on his resting on his leg and teased, “A visit rendered pleasurable only by its brevity, I gather.”

Darcy jerked at her touch and her words failed to register at first and then one of his brief smiles emerged as he turned his eyes from the window to Elizabeth’s face. “Indeed. My aunt outdid herself today. I will not offend you by a recital of her expressions of displeasure against you and me. It is sufficient to say that I have informed her that all contact between us is severed until she is willing to accept you as my wife with respect and civility.”

Elizabeth could not be happy to have caused a breach in his family but her concerns were, not dismissed exactly, but allayed by Darcy. “Elizabeth, do not concern yourself unduly. She would have been unhappy and probably just as abusive of any choice I made that was not my cousin Anne who, I might add, has never expressed a desire for a union between us and who is, as I am sure you have realized, quite ill-suited to the role you will fill.”

Elizabeth was about to withdraw her hand and sit back but her efforts were thwarted by Darcy’s reluctance to release her hand. Keeping a firm hold, ignoring her blush - or perhaps appreciating, if the look on his face that Elizabeth detected was an indication – and looking rather sternly at her, said, ”I have a…request to make of you. My aunt’s words were quite intemperate and I doubt that her abuse will have ceased. That she may write to you directly in the most abusive terms, I doubt not. My request is simple. Please do not read any letter from her but destroy it, or better: give it to me unopened. She is my aunt and my responsibility to deal with.”

“I am not afraid of your aunt, Mr. Darcy.”

“I know that, but I would not have you bear her insults, if I can prevent it.”

Elizabeth was thoughtful as she considered his request. That it was a request and not a demand was, she thought, a good portent for the future; and, since it was not an issue that bothered her greatly, she was willing to agree to it and did so. With an obvious sense of relief, he released her hand, allowing her to sit back once more.

On the subject of his Aunt Catherine, Darcy was unwilling to converse further and was easily induced to speak of his activities of the past week, which he did with great enthusiasm. Of his meeting with Mr. Bennet, he had little to say and Elizabeth finally realized that he would prefer to talk on that subject without his sister being present. On his meeting with Mrs. Bennet, he only commented that, “Your mother and I talked but briefly - as I waited to speak to your father. She was obviously quite curious as to my reasons for calling and I gave her to understand that I was only passing through and wished to speak on business with your father.” He smiled, “If she believed it to involve Bingley, I was, unfortunately, not able, at that time, to satisfy her curiosity.”

“When did you speak to Mr. Bingley?” Elizabeth was curious but not overly concerned.

“I sent him a note after I returned from Longbourn; he called that evening and we visited Gracechurch Street the next day.”

Another topic, Elizabeth realized, that would have to be deferred until they could talk in private. “What are Mr. Bingley’s plans or has he even discussed them as yet?”

“Oh yes! He has been quite enthusiastic. He has sent instructions for Netherfield to be opened and made ready for himself and Georgiana and myself. He will be journeying with us tomorrow.”

“And Mr. Bingley’s sisters? Are they not to accompany him?”

“I do not believe he has invited them. He is still quite…annoyed with them both.”

Miss Darcy looked surprised at this revelation and looked as though she wished to learn more on the subject but subsided after a glance at her brother. Elizabeth saw no reason to dissemble on the issue and addressed her directly, “Georgiana, as it happened Mr. Bingley’s sisters were not pleased at their brother’s attention to my sister Jane when he stayed at Netherfield. They … acted to separate them when Mr. Bingley had cause to visit Town, which led him to sever the acquaintance with my sister. Their actions were quite … unkind. Mr. Bingley only recently learned of what had occurred and was understandably angered.” Elizabeth paused – she did not know the nature of any relationship between Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley’s sisters and was hesitant to express her own reservations about them. “I believe, knowing Mr. Bingley, that he will forgive them and all will be well.”

Strangely, Miss Darcy did not appear overly perturbed at the discord in the Bingley family and simply nodded in acquiescence.

Darcy reclaimed their attention. “I must say that Bingley’s attentions to your sister have not suffered from the passage of five months. He appears to be as absorbed in her as ever he was.” Reading Elizabeth’s raised eyebrow, he responded, “I would not expect too long a time to pass before he makes her an offer. I think he feels that he needs to ensure her forgiveness - her approval - before doing so.”

“I am sure my sister will not expect him to suffer unduly.”

“If her demeanour is any indication, he should have little doubt as to her affections.” The glance that Darcy sent to Elizabeth acknowledged his mistaken judgement. “Even I, as deficient in such discernment, can perceive as much.”

“I believe my sister may feel more comfortable in displaying her feelings in Gracechurch Street than at Longbourn, Mr. Darcy.” Darcy nodded in understanding and then changed the topic once more.

“I informed my uncle, the Earl of ____, of our engagement.”

Elizabeth was not sure from his expression how this news had been received. She rather thought that, if the earl was much like his sister, it had not been welcomed and Darcy had been subject to another session of abuse.

“Should I anticipate that he also does not favour the match, Mr. Darcy? Does his opinion match that of your aunt?” Elizabeth could not altogether hide the concern she felt at the negative reaction of his family. It was not unexpected, but that fact did not lessen the discomfort attached to it.

“My uncle is much more sensible than my aunt. I will not deny that he had expectations of a more prestigious match, but he was not abusive to you at all. His concern, if I may be frank, was that I knew my own mind and that I had not been trapped or compromised into a marriage by a mercenary young woman. I believe he accepted the assurances which I tendered although it took, I admit, a full hour to persuade him to my way of thinking.”

He smiled once more at Elizabeth, “His wife, the countess, was surprisingly not astonished by the news. I believe Richard must have said something to her when he returned. I suspect that both my aunt and uncle had begun to despair of my ever taking a wife, knowing as they did my dissatisfaction with those ladies I had encountered in society. They both warned me about Lady Catherine’s reaction and it was, in fact, my uncle’s suggestion that I speak to her immediately that I followed. So, to answer your question, they have assured me that that will receive you with interest and I have promised to bring you to London to meet them before we marry.”

Elizabeth was not sure how she felt about that prospect and her feelings must have been evident as Miss Darcy offered, “I like my Aunt Ellen very much. She is very kind to me.”

Elizabeth laughed, “I cannot imagine anyone being unkind to you, Georgiana. And I am sure that with you and your brother to support me, I will survive the introduction quite well.”

Darcy spoke quietly, “Our aunt is much like our cousin - Richard – quite amiable in almost any company; not like myself, unfortunately.”

“Then I shall have to ensure that you follow your Aunt Catherine’s advice and practice. I am sure you will become a great proficient.” Elizabeth teased.

A subdued chortle beside her and Darcy’s amused look seemed to lighten the atmosphere considerably and the remainder of the journey passed very comfortably. After a short stop at ______ to refresh themselves, they continued on to London arriving at Gracechurch Street by mid-afternoon. Their reception there was all that she had anticipated. Her young cousins welcomed her joyfully – a visit by Cousin Lizzy was always a source of pleasure and they were only dismayed that she would remain but a single night. To Elizabeth’s surprise, the Darcys were also welcomed by her cousins and both appeared comfortable with the exuberance displayed. An invitation to dine that evening was extended to the Darcys who gratefully accepted and departed shortly thereafter to their home to refresh themselves, promising to return as soon as possible.

Elizabeth had no sooner bid them adieu when she was hustled upstairs to Jane’s room by her sister and aunt who both expressed a determination to have the full story behind her engagement. Pleading fatigue and a need to rest and refresh herself, Elizabeth, recognizing that nothing short of a full confession - although, as she reminded herself, not all details need be imparted – would satisfy their curiosity (and in the case of Jane, concern), she assured them of a full recounting of events after their guests left that night.

The Darcys did return, accompanied by Mr. Bingley, and the evening passed enjoyably for all and Elizabeth took satisfaction in the obvious comfort and ease that the Darcys displayed in the company of her aunt and uncle. In particular, Darcy and her uncle engaged in a lengthy discussion of angling and the sport to be had in Derbyshire. She could not be certain but it seemed to her that plans were being laid for the Gardiners to visit Pemberley that summer, plans of which she knew nothing – not that she would ever object to such a visit; indeed, quite the reverse - were she to be asked for an opinion.

The Darcys did not prolong their stay after dinner was completed. The journey had obviously fatigued Miss Darcy and her brother, if reluctant to be separated from Elizabeth, recognized his sister’s discomfort and called for his carriage. If he and Elizabeth stole a few minutes to converse while awaiting the carriage, the rest of the party were content to afford them the privacy. Elizabeth hoped that he could discern the fondness and pleasure she took in his presence as they stood quietly talking in the hall.

“William, thank you once more for everything and, if I have not said so before, I like your sister a great deal.”

“I hope that means you like her brother a great deal also, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth’s assurances that she liked Miss Darcy’s brother a very great deal indeed was rewarded by a swift, light kiss that both pleased and failed to satisfied either of them. Within moments, the arrival of the Darcy carriage signalled the return of strict propriety and, shortly thereafter, the Darcys departed, plans in place to meet after church services the next day in order to effect a return to Longbourn. Mr. Bingley, sensing perhaps a desire of the Gardiners and Jane to talk privately with Elizabeth, did not prolong his stay and departed soon after.

Elizabeth was allowed the briefest of respite after his departure before her relations demanded of her a full accounting of her stay in Hunsford and her engagement for, as Jane, noted, “When you left, Lizzie, your opinion of Mr. Darcy seemed to be to reflect a distinct dislike. Yet now …?”

“In cases like this, a good memory is insupportable. I am quite ashamed of my….let us be honest, my prejudices which were nourished by a wounded vanity. It was no less, I assure you.”

“Yet now you esteem him enough to accept his offer of marriage?” queried her aunt.

Elizabeth realized she would have to reveal much of her reflections over the course of her stay as well as some information that she had learned. Darcy’s involvement with persuading Bingley to not return to Netherfield was skirted; she could see no purpose in revealing it since Bingley was now paying his attentions to Jane. His role had always been surmised but revealing the predominance of those efforts would serve no useful purpose now. Everything else – excepting only Georgiana’s treatment by Wickham – was revealed and commented upon. Elizabeth had the satisfaction, after finishing, of having her uncle congratulate her. “I am very pleased, Lizzie, that you approached this proposal with so much thought. You were, I believe, very sensible and I have little doubt that you will be happy in this match. While I have met Mr. Darcy only a few times, I have been most favourably impressed by him. He is perfectly well-behaved, polite and unassuming.”

“There is something a little stately in him, to be sure,” replied her aunt, “but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming. Though some people may call him proud, I have seen nothing of it. He has not an ill-natured look. On the contrary, there is something pleasing about his mouth when he speaks. And there is something of dignity in his countenance that would not give an unfavourable idea of his heart. I like him very well indeed.”

Elizabeth could see that Jane remained slightly troubled and suspected that some questions would remain unanswered until such time as they were secluded in the privacy of their room. She had some suspicions as to the cause of her sister’s disquiet and hoped that she could allay her fears. Later, after changing into their bedclothes, the two sisters settled themselves comfortably on Jane’s bed, eager to discuss the more intimate details of those events that had taken place since last they had met. Elizabeth, despite Jane’s pleadings, insisted that her sister tell all that had happened with respect to Bingley.

“Truthfully, there is not yet much to tell, Lizzy. He has visited several times, apologized for his sister’s behaviour – which I assured him I did not hold to his account. How could I? And he mentioned his plans to re-open Netherfield. But he has said little of his feelings.”

“Well, if I am to be a judge, I think he likes you quite as much as ever he did.”

“Lizzy, you must not say so. You must not suspect me. It mortifies me. I assure you that I have now learned to enjoy his conversation as an agreeable and sensible young man without having a wish beyond it. I am perfectly satisfied, from what his manners now are, that he never had any design of engaging my affection. It is only that he is blessed with greater sweetness of address, and a stronger desire of generally pleasing, than any other man.”

“You are very cruel,” said her sister, “you will not let me smile, and are provoking me to it, every moment.”

“How hard it is in some cases to be believed! And how impossible in others! But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I acknowledge?”

“That is a question I hardly know how to answer. We all love to instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth knowing. Forgive me; and if you persist in indifference, do not make me your confidante.”

Jane was satisfied to escape further inquiry and teasing, and recollecting her concern about her sister’s engagement, wondered how she might raise the matter. Elizabeth, though she suspected the source of her sister’s discomfiture, was, at first, not disposed to begin the discussion but, after seeing her struggle for a minute or two, chose to broach it herself.

“It is easy to see that you are troubled, Jane; and, I believe I know the cause. We have always intended to marry only for love have we not?” Jane nodded. “And yet I have not claimed to love Mr. Darcy. Indeed some months back, I rather disliked him. You are worried that I have entered the engagement for improper reasons, are you not?”

Jane hesitated, reluctant to be questioning her sister’s motives. “I am, I admit, concerned. I would not have you in an unhappy marriage; and, I am concerned that you may have accepted Mr. Darcy’s proposal in order that Mr. Bingley would call on me.”

Elizabeth began to laugh quietly, “Let me assure you on both counts, my dearest Jane. I was quite convinced that Mr. Darcy would correct his…mistake in regards to Mr. Bingley before I accepted him. That he is an honourable man, I have come to recognize. So banish that thought from your mind.”

She smiled at the relief apparent on her sister’s countenance. “The other issue should concern you even less. It is true that I do not, I think, love Mr. Darcy. But then I hardly know for sure what my feelings are. I know I now like him - I like him a great deal, in fact. I respect him and believe him to be the best man of my acquaintance. I found that I miss his presence when we are apart – the past week has been almost intolerable.” She giggled, “I do like to be kissed by him and could wish for it to happen again!”

Jane looked both shocked and slightly envious, “Lizzy! You did not?”

“Indeed, we did! And, I quite enjoyed it!”

“It does sound very much as if you are in love with him, Lizzy.”

“I hardly know, as I said. I am not sure how I am supposed to feel and my feelings are so new as to leave me quite confused. I do know that I will be respected, loved and cared for; and, that my family will be looked after, which is no small consideration.”

Elizabeth replied to Jane's querying look, saying, “He has not said as much, nor have I asked it of him; but I am convinced that, as a matter which would concern me, he would wish to be of assistance.”

Elizabeth could see that if her sister retained any lingering concerns, they had been, for the most part, laid to rest. The remainder of their conversation, before sleep overtook them somewhat later than was perhaps sensible, took a while – but two sisters, separated for a prolonged period, have much to talk about that renders sleep unimportant.

~~~~

The journey to Longbourn was amongst the most pleasing that Elizabeth had ever experienced; the company was amiable, the distance not overlong and the carriage, most commodious. With five passengers, all capable and desirous of being entertained, topics of conversation were not wanting and even brief moments of silence were uncommon. Their reception at Longbourn was much more restrained than Elizabeth had expected. Mrs. Bennet, apparently informed of her daughter’s engagement, stood in such awe of her intended son-in-law, that she ventured not to speak to him, unless it was in her power to offer him any attention, or mark her deference to his opinion. To Mr. Bingley, she showed no such reserve; and her attentions in that quarter, by their volume and duration, were such as to remove any doubt as to her pleasure in his return. That he had done so in company with Jane, only fixed more firmly in her mind the certainty of his attachment to her.

The Darcys and Mr. Bingley did not linger overlong at Longbourn; staying only long enough to accept an invitation to dine the next evening before removing to Netherfield to establish themselves there. At Longbourn, Mrs. Bennet had been compelled to refrain from inviting their neighbours to join the celebration of the family’s good fortune only by the sternest of injunctions from her husband. “We will not impose on Mr. Darcy, or Mr. Bingley tonight Mrs. Bennet. We will, instead, enjoy and be satisfied with the company of our two eldest daughters whose good sense has been sorely missed for many months.”

As a consequence, the evening passed in a lively manner. Mrs. Bennet rejoiced to see Jane in undiminished beauty and, after satisfying herself by receiving a full accounting of Mr. Bingley’s attentions to her, was much engaged in collecting an account of the present fashions from her; and more than once during dinner did Mr. Bennet say voluntarily to Elizabeth, “I am glad you are come back, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth had not been many hours at home – indeed it was a major topic of conversation at dinner - , before she found that the removal of the ____shire Militia to Brighton had given rise to a scheme, for which Lydia appeared to be the primary proponent. It was to have the Bennet family spend some months during the summer at that location. This scheme was under frequent discussion between her parents. Elizabeth saw directly that her father had not the smallest intention of yielding; but his answers were at the same time so vague and equivocal, that her mother, though often disheartened, had never yet despaired of succeeding at last. Since Elizabeth was sure that her father had no intention of agreeing to any such plan, she gave it little further thought.

That evening, her mother finally managed to put thoughts of the possibility of a match between Mr. Bingley and Jane far enough away to direct her attentions to Elizabeth. As Mr. Bennet had related, she had sat silent for a full ten minutes upon receipt of the news that morning and had been, even for her, unusually incoherent when control had been returned to her powers of speech. Elizabeth was much relieved that Mr. Darcy had been spared that exhibition; he had been very civil in his manner towards her mother when they met, but an effusion of that intensity by her mother might well have caused a return of the more reserved and reticent Mr. Darcy. How Miss Darcy – Georgiana – would have reacted, she could only guess but Elizabeth was sure that it would have shocked and thoroughly overset her sensibilities. Now, however, her mother was pleased to share with her – no longer her least favoured daughter – all her joys at the match she had made; and, calling Elizabeth to her chambers as she prepared for sleep, could not bear to do other than give full expression of that pleasure.

“Good gracious! Lord bless me! Only think! Dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it! And is it really true! Oh! my sweetest Lizzy! how rich and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have! I am so pleased - so happy. Such a charming man! -- so handsome! so tall! - Oh, my dear Lizzy! pray apologize for my having disliked him so much before. I hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Everything that is charming! A daughter married! Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of me. I shall go distracted.”

This was enough to prove that her approbation need not be doubted: and Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusion was heard only by herself, soon went away. But before she had been three minutes in her own room, her mother followed her.

“My dearest child,” she cried, “I can think of nothing else! Ten thousand a year, and very likely more! ‘Tis as good as a Lord! And a special license. You must and shall be married by a special license. But my dearest love, tell me what dish Mr. Darcy is particularly fond of, that I may have it tomorrow.”

This was a sad omen of what her mother’s behaviour to the gentleman himself might be; and Elizabeth found that, though in the certain possession of his warmest affection, and secure of her relations’ consent, there was still something to be wished for. But the morrow passed off much better than she expected; for Mrs. Bennet luckily remained in awe of her intended son-in-law and spared him her overt attentions. Such attentions as he did desire or opinions that he expressed were received with a deference that stood in marked distinction to her previous treatment of him, a circumstance of which only Mrs. Bennet was unaware.

Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her father taking pains to get acquainted with him; and Mr. Bennet soon assured her that he was rising every hour in his esteem.

---

Thanks to my Beta (Alida) for her efforts on my behalf.

Frederick's American Café

There are only 9 chapters in this little story, so I should finish posting by Tuesday of next week. I hope everyone has been enjoying it thus far. The powers-that-be have removed the child-safety warning and the ABBR notice from the copy appearing in Fantasia Gallery, so I too shall omit them from the remaining chapters.

Chapter 7

Frederick Wentworth did not treat his position of owner as a sinecure. There was always a lot of hard work to do and, if he didn't do it himself, he at least set the example of hard work for others to follow. He had never taken a vacation in all his years at The American. There had been no point; he had nowhere else to go, invitations from his sister notwithstanding.

While he was above taking time for his own pleasure, he had fallen ill from time to time, and been tended to by Mrs. Harville either at his bedside or in his office, depending on the severity.

Both Harvilles could attest that when the boss had gone to bed the night before, he had been in no condition to rise at his usual early hour. They knew where to find him in case of an emergency, and they shielded him from the morning's mundane travails. What they could not handle between the two of them, they could delay until the boss felt well enough to show his face.

And so, aided by the Harvilles, Frederick slept late. When he woke, Anne was gone, along with any visible sign that she had been there. With sadness he realized he might never see her again, but it was a pain not weighted down by the bitterness that had plagued him for years, and so it was exceedingly light. She had loved him; she loved him still. She had not been some cruelly fickle female falling in and out of love with the fashions. It had been his fate to fall in love with a woman of principles and convictions. It was a hard fate but he could live with it now.

The sounds of life in the building and outside his windows coaxed him from his bed at last. He drew a bath in the small en-suite and washed off the accumulated blood, sweat and dirt. Feeling more and more like a new man, he toweled off and put on his clothes from yesterday. He wanted to duck into his room downstairs for clean clothes and a shave before slinking into his office, but he at least looked presentable enough to leave the room.

He was just about to wind the bandage around his head when he was startled by a loud knocking on his hotel room door. He could hear Hemmert barking at him in German to open the door. It seemed Hemmert had finally discovered that the Elliots and the Wilkes had gone.

Frederick opened the door with a gruff salutation and was surprised to find not just Hemmert but also Harville and Croft standing there.

Croft was equally surprised, exclaiming, "Good grief, Wentworth, were you attacked?" No one had warned him of Frederick's forehead.

"Don't worry," Frederick answered. "Hemmert was there when it happened. In fact, if you've got a report for me to sign, I'm willing to swear."

He hoped the German would respond to the dig, but the man's attention was focused elsewhere.

"Your Gäste are gone!" he announced.

Frederick decided to act as if he didn't fully understand. Harville read his look and filled him in. "The Elliots and the Wilkes are gone, boss. No one's seen them all morning, and they didn't answer when we knocked."

"It did occur to you they got married yesterday?" Frederick pointed out. "They may not be in the mood for early morning callers."

"They are gone, Herr Wentworth," Hemmert grit out, quickly tiring of this conversation.

"Have they paid their bill?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, boss, through tomorrow morning," confirmed Harville.

Frederick fixed his gaze upon the Gestapo. "Then I don't care where they are."

"If they are not here then it is a certain admission of guilt. They are criminals, absconding in the night. I shall have warrants in my hand tomorrow morning to prove it to you, incontrovertibly. Their property in your hotel will be forfeited. I insist that you open the safe for me and let me collect their belongings."

"If they've paid through till tomorrow, and you have no warrant today, I don't have to do anything for you now." He could feel his day sliding downhill. Leave it to the German to ruin his mood.

"Jetzt!" barked Hemmert in barely contained fury, grabbing Frederick by his collar and pulling him into the hall. Croft and Harville, who had initially seemed competent enough as witnesses to stall Hemmert's rage, now seemed powerless to offer any protection at all.

"At least let me shave first."

Hemmert looked ready to slit Frederick's throat if offered, or to throw him down the stairs as a consolation prize. He shoved Frederick in the direction of the staircase.

Frederick decided the best course of action for now was to go along. There was no reasoning with the Gestapo at this point and he had promised Anne to take care of himself while she was gone. They promenaded down to his office: Frederick with Hemmert close behind, ready to push and prod should he move too slowly, and Croft and Harville bringing up the rear.

Once inside his office, however, Frederick stood his ground. "This is as close as you get without a warrant," he announced.

Hemmert put his hand on his gun. "Wentworth!"

"Now, now, old chap," Croft interrupted with a ghost of a stutter. "Let's not be hasty, any of us. No one doubts your bravery, Wentworth, but I'd rather you not get yourself killed over this."

"He has no warrant, Croft, ergo he has no right," Frederick explained with irritation. "What if he decided that you and Mrs. Croft were hiding illegal goods in your home and decided to search it. Would you just roll over and let him?"

The possibility gave the Englishman pause and made his pink skin pale slightly.

Frederick turned back to Hemmert. "The Wilkes and the Elliots are gone. They're not getting into this safe. Your warrant arrives in 24 hours. You can wait."

Hemmert glowered at him, trying to determine how he could motivate this obstinate American. At last he drew his pistol. "Then I insist you wait with me," he said. "Come with me, across the square. I had prepared to host four guests today but one will do for now."

"What?" asked Croft. "You're taking him into custody? On what grounds?"

Hemmert turned to glare. "I do not need your consent." He added a subtle wave of the gun for emphasis. "Herr Wentworth, beweg dich!"

Frederick again led the parade across the square. Croft followed closely behind Hemmert, informing the German that he was going home immediately to write a very sternly worded letter to Hemmert's supervisor which would go out on tomorrow's plane. Hemmert only laughed. "Go ahead," he goaded. "They will probably give me a commendation for it."

Hemmert locked Frederick in his lone cell, handcuffing him to a bar of the cell for good measure.

"Come on," protested Frederick against the extra measures. "This is ridiculous."

"Should I find them today I will certainly free you. Otherwise you can stay here until you agree to open the safe for me."

"What do you want me to do, boss?" asked Harville, hapless.

"Run the hotel," snapped Frederick. "I'll be in here for a day, 24 hours. Think you can keep the place running that long?"

The look Harville gave him did not fill him with confidence but there was no alternative from where he now stood. "If anyone needs me, I'll be right here. You can find me," he said as a comfort to both of them.

With a nod and wishes for a quick stay, Harville turned around and returned to The American. Hemmert stayed briefly to press him to capitulate but, now that Frederick was locked up and unable to open the safe for anyone, his motivation was waning. Once convinced that Frederick would not be turned, he left him unattended to see if he could find out where the English spies had gone.

An hour later, Mrs. Harville brought a tray of breakfast with her apologies for not coming sooner. As it was, she had come as soon as she had heard the news; her husband had been too immediately overwhelmed to send word to the kitchen earlier.

He thanked her for her kindness and sent her back. He had wanted to ask if Anne was hiding in the cellar like he had suggested but he knew that to speak the suggestion to another person was to betray everyone involved, so he said nothing on the topic.

The day passed slowly with no other company. The cell was spartan, without privacy or much of dignity, and he was glad at times for the lack of witnesses.

When his stomach was getting uncomfortably empty again, another emissary from The American brought his dinner. It was Lulu Argile.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in lieu of a friendly greeting. "You're supposed to be on stage." He blamed Harville for this. It had been less than half a day and already things were falling apart.

"There is no show tonight," she informed him of the obvious with a disinterested shrug.

"Says who?"

"Madame Harville has closed the café. There is only room service tonight in solidarity with you, patron. And Monsieur Charlie has closed the bar and cancelled the poker. He says it is because he does not trust Monsieur Massoud without you to keep an eye on him, but between you and me..." She looked around to see if the coast was clear and then leaned close to the bars to whisper, "c'est le Gestapo."

Frederick wanted to swear.

“And I have one more bad news for you, patron,” continued Lulu in her regular voice. “I am leaving you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am going to quit The American and go somewhere else,” she said matter-of-factly. “I have been talking with Miss Elliot, and I think I will go to England. They will appreciate me there.”

The arrogance and simplicity of the woman angered him. “You can’t just sprout wings and fly away.”

She looked at him coldly. “How do you know what I am capable of, when you have never bothered to find out? Just because you are not interested in me does not mean no one is.”

“Elizabeth Elliot is not the kind of woman to mean what she says when she is this far from civilization. She might have invited you to come visit when you’re in the neighborhood, but she didn’t actually mean it. You’d be a sucker to chase after her.”

“We talked about you, she and I,” explained Lulu with a puckered frown. “We agree you are not right in the head. I meant what I said. I am leaving you, patron. You are blind for me; blind and stupid. If you had any sense at all, you would be weeping like a child right now, to lose me. The only pity is that I will not be here to see your spirit crushed when you experience true remorse at what you have thrown away.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be here for months and months, trying to get the paperwork to get into England,” he told her, reaching for the upper hand. “You’d have better luck trying to get back to France, such as it is.”

“Think what you like, patron, but I am done working at The American. By the time you get out of here, I’ll be a distant memory.”

“I’ll be out of here tomorrow morning, Lu,” Frederick warned her. “I’m sure you’ll be here for a while. Best not to burn those bridges until you’re on the other side.”

She looked like she wanted to argue with him but then decided to rise above it. “Adieu, patron.”

And so she left him.

Frederick spent the night alone, chained to the bars of his cell. It did him no good to contrast this night with the night before, when he had slept in the best room in his hotel -- nor had he been alone, at least for part of it -- but memories would intrude before he could stop them. He could only hope, with a fervency that bordered on prayer, that Hemmert’s continued absence spelled good tidings for Anne.

Here's a little Christmas present for everyone. It's a bit sappy, but was fun to write.

Blurb: Freshly engaged, Elizabeth and Darcy adjust to their new relationship.

A Two Days' Courtship

She had hardly slept last night and now her hair wouldn't go right. She tried three times to place the pins with her shaking hands before she finally gave up and called Jane to help her. Jane, secure and settled in her own engagement, smiled a serene and knowing smile, and dressed her hair a remarkably becoming style.

"What gown should I wear, do you think?" It was an absurd point, but causing her much anxiety.

Jane looked at her thoughtfully. "Wear the one you like best."

"I like best what will make him like me best, but I do not know what that is." She stared into her wardrobe with despair. "Jane, I am engaged to marry a man and I do not even know his favourite color. Does that not seem worrisome to you?"

"I would bet he knows what your favourite color is."

"Thus proving his superiority over to me as a lover."

Jane put her hand on her arm. "This is the beginning, Lizzy. You have only just come to love him, while he has loved you for nearly a year. You must give yourself time to catch up."

To catch up. "That still does not tell me what to wear."

"As I said, wear what you like—what suits you." She reached in a pulled out a soft, butter colored gown.

"That one? Why, I have worn that any time these last two years."

"And worn it often, because you like it very much and know it becomes you."

She looked at it dubiously. "I should not like to appear shabby—or out of fashion."

"You will appear only beautiful, and like yourself," assured Jane. "I am sure that is all he will notice."

So she descended the stairs, brown hair, brown eyes and a long-sleeved butter-colored gown.

Breakfast was so slow, and the wait in the parlor so long. Elizabeth wondered if it would always be like this, and yet knew that it wouldn't. Surely she would be easy again soon; surely this anxiety and oppression of spirits would be lifted.

The men finally arrived, and she watched him walk in, marveling. He looked serious, but his eyes found hers at once, and she felt the blood rise in her cheeks as she met them. She was wrong—he was composed, but he was happy, his eyes were full of it, and... uncertainty?

Across the room he silently questioned her, as if wishing for reassurance that she did not regret her answer. She smiled back, shyly, trying to tell him that she was so very, very glad that they were here, standing awkwardly in her mother's parlor, a promise between them.

I am glad too, his look replied.

Mr. Bingley came around, and pressed her hand significantly. Then Darcy was there, and she could not look him in the eye so close up, but felt his cool, firm fingers clasp hers for a few moments longer than needed.

For once she was grateful for her mother's eagerness to send her daughters off with their suitors, as a walk to Oakhum Mount was swiftly arranged. She could not breathe here in this house. In the hallway Mrs. Bennet asked her forgiveness for making her spend time with Darcy, and she did not know if she ought to laugh or cry.

She put her bonnet on and felt him move nearer, shifting a little as if uncertain just how close he could come. The four of them burst into the sunshine, moving away from house, toward freedom and love and things unknown.

Once they reached a good distance Mr. Bingley turned to her. "You must let me say how thoroughly delighted I am at the news Darcy told me, my dear Lizzy!"

"Thank you."

"We are all to be brothers and sisters now!" He beamed. "Or husbands and wives, of course."

Husbands. Wives. She longed to look at Darcy, to study his face for hours, but could only cast fleeting glances around the brim of her bonnet. He grew more beautiful with each look, and she did not know how she would bear it.

There was some conversation, she hardly knew of what, then the couples broke naturally apart. Bingley and Jane, being much the less assertive walkers, fell behind, and it was just the two of them, on a path winding through fields and trees, and turning a corner just ahead.

They walked together without touching or speaking, waiting by some mutual consent until the distance between the two couples grew sufficient for private conversation.

When Darcy finally spoke, his voice sounded tentative. "I hope you do not mind that I told Bingley."

"No, no of course not. I told Jane, after all, and it is almost the same thing."

"Very true." Another silence. "Will you not look at me?"

She did then, blushing and smiling. "I am sorry. It is just so..."

"I know," he said. The look he gave her was tender. "I have loved you a long time, Elizabeth, and the assimilation of my own happiness is slow. I half feared I would come to the house this morning, and you would look at me with the same coldness as before."

"Oh, no." In a moment she had forgotten herself, and thinking only of his feelings, touched his hand in fleeting reassurance. "No, you must forget that I ever looked at you that way. I was a fool."

"Far less than I." His hand pursued hers, and clasped it, though still fleetingly.

They wore gloves, of course, but these little touches were so new, and so significant, that she felt a bit breathless. Lizzy found herself glancing over her shoulder to check how far back Jane and Bingley were. She could still see them, further down, through the trees.

"I thought you would never wish to see me again," she blurted out after a moment. They had spoken of this briefly the day before, but somehow she could not help returning to it.

"Never wish to see you again?" he repeated. "Surely you could not believe that. Even if circumstances had truly divided us, it would not be by my wishes. You must have seen," he went on, turning towards her, "while we were at Pemberley, that I still loved you—that I wished ardently to please you."

She colored happily. "I did suspect it, but it was so very extraordinary, that any man would love a woman who had treated him so infamously. Your behavior astonished me beyond expression, and I was still attempting to decide my own wishes when Jane's letters came. And then—and then, how could I possibly expect more from you? Lydia's behavior alone would be enough to turn most men away, and the connection with Mr. Wickham! Or course I did not expect to see you again."

"Did you not say" –he stopped walking and she with him— "that everything strengthens what is strong already?" They stood opposite each other, looking, perhaps for the first time that day, properly and fully into each other's faces. "When I watched you weeping in the inn that morning, I thought I had never loved you more. Wickham's infamy only increased the intensity of my feelings—yet I had no right to say anything, or do anything that day, except to offer what commiseration I could, and to secretly determine to help."

"And when you left, I knew then what I really wanted. It seemed bitter, though just, that I should desire your regard just when I had lost it—that in the very hour you walked out of my life, I knew that I could have, would have loved you, that you were of all men the one most suited to me."

The air was so very bright between them, the trees overhead throwing only occasional shadows over their shoulders.

Darcy looked down at last, away, and back again. "Could have?"

"It was Lady Catherine," she said softly, "who made me realize that I already did."

That same pattern of looks again—down, away, back again. "How is that possible?" he asked after a moment. "You did not love me yet at Pemberley, I know you did not, and then we did not see each other, except when I visited with Bingley, and then we did not speak. Could you have fallen in love with my absence?"

"With my better understanding of your character; with—oh, I don't know!" The soft murmur of voices behind them alerted them that the others were drawing nearer and, as if by mutual consent, they both turned and began to walk again, with rather quick steps. "I cannot explain it. But I thought of you so much during those months, and the more I thought, the more my feelings changed and warmed, and when you came again—oh, I expected nothing, but hoped for everything!"

"As did I," he said, and his voice had grown stronger and warmer again.

They walked in silence a little bit more, as if driven to be away. They came to a spot where a smaller path diverged from the main, and Elizabeth paused by it. "Will you come this way with me?"

He came without hesitation.

The trees were heavier here, and the leaves crunching thickly underfoot. Their steps soon slowed to the barest amble, and they each took their turn at long, admiring looks in the quiet. "I believe," said Darcy at last, clearing his throat, "that I should speak to your father this evening, if you are agreeable."

Elizabeth nodded.

"It should not be put off any longer."

"No, indeed."

"I want your family to know."

She was moved by the sentiment, even as she found herself wishing that they could have more time like this, without scrutiny. "I only ask that I be the one to tell my mother—tonight, perhaps, before bed."

"Very well."

It had been a remarkably still day, with only the occasional leaf drifting lazily down. In the thick trees, one landed on Darcy's shoulder, and then another on the brim of his hat, and Elizabeth found herself smiling.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing at all, only—" She hesitated, then lifted a hand to lightly brush his shoulder. "And—" She lifted her hand further, and Darcy, realizing that she was reaching toward his hat, bent his head. She lifted the leaf off, but as her hand came down he caught it, and held it, suspended between them for a long moment before he gently kissed it.

Men had kissed Elizabeth's hand before, of course, but usually with exaggerated gallantry, never this seriousness. She and Darcy had hardly touched the day before, really; there had been too much to feel and too much to say, and a lifetime's habit of constraint is not overcome in a moment.

As if he had read her mind Darcy spoke abruptly, still looking at her hand. "Before today, there were only four occasions on which I touched you."

Her throat constricted, and she could not speak.

"We danced at the ball at Netherfield, you took my arm once when we walked in the grove at Rosings, I handed you into the carriage the day you first came to Pemberley. And... yesterday, when we walked, a little bit."

"Oh, Fitzwilliam," she whispered.

His eyes flew to hers. "Will you call me that?" His lips curved a little.

She blushed. "I—I do not know. I hardly know what to call you. Would Darcy be better?"

"No. Not when we are alone." His hand shifted on hers, clasping it firmly. "Only my sister ever calls me Fitzwilliam now."

"Perhaps there would be a confusion of names within the family."

"Indeed." He relaxed and smiled more. "When I was a boy I used to wish I had been named John or Edward or merely William—any ordinary name."

"What was your father's name?"

"George."

Of course. She should have known. "It might be easier if you had an ordinary name, but I must say that I think Fitzwilliam suits you. It has a dignity and distinction which a mere John or Edward could never hope to attain. Besides, I knew an Edward when I was a little girl. He was a very fat and unpleasant boy who pulled my hair and tore my dress. I have hated the name ever since."

"Then I am glad I am not named Edward."

After a moment's hesitation they began to move again, though dawdling, their two hands still clasped between them. It was strange and exciting, to walk thus, with this immediate physical connection between them, with the warmth of his hands seeping through her gloves and up her arm. He was so much taller; she felt the difference more now, for some reason. The trail grew very narrow and Darcy frequently reached out to lift branches that might have tangled in her bonnet or her hair. They were almost painfully close, but still not touching but for their hands.

Darcy broke the silence with a return to their previous subject. "I may speak to your father after dinner, then?"

She nodded.

"Are you worried?"

"Worried?"

"That he will refuse me."

"No." She shook her head. "I do not fear his opposition. It is only that..." she sighed. "I was too immoderate, Fitzwilliam. I spoke my dislike of you too freely, with too much spirit and foolish wit."

A short silent passed, then— "You do not like admitting you were wrong?" His voice was a little flat.

"No, no! At least, I am ashamed of myself, of my behavior, and that must give pain, but I will take pleasure in naming all your merits to anyone who will listen. It is that my father will be grieved and anxious for me, though I hope to quickly convince him that he need not be. You must forgive—you must forgive anything he says to you that might give you an idea of my sentiments in the past. Or any coldness on his part. It will be a very great surprise to him."

Darcy accepted this silently, but when she looked anxiously at him he did not appear distressed by it. Without thinking she tightened her grip on his hand, and immediately he turned his head and smiled at her then stopped, pulling her closer. He looked down at her, ran a finger down her cheek, and murmured. "If I could write the beauty of your eyes..." and paused. "I hope you will forgive me," he said with a smile, "for I still believe poetry is the food of love."

"I thought that was music," she said inanely.

"That as well."

He let her go eventually, and they carried on without touching again and spoke only of passing subjects. Perhaps they had both had as much intimacy as they could bear just then.

They eventually reunited with Jane and Bingley on the Mount, where the atmosphere immediately lightened. Those two lovers had been together long enough to be more easy, and several minutes of cheerful and sensible conversation did a great deal to lessen the tension between the two new ones.

They walked back together, the girls telling stories of their childhood explorations. It was Bingley who laughed loudest, but Darcy's frequent smiles spoke more eloquently to Elizabeth's senses. He was happy, she could feel it, although it was a happiness that perhaps overwhelmed him a bit, even as it overwhelmed her.

When they arrived home there was no choice but to part again, at least briefly, and the afternoon crawled past as they sat in the same room, unable to speak, while Mrs. Bennet nattered on about nothings, Mary read aloud her improving excerpts, and Kitty sighed her boredom disconsolately. If anyone thought it strange that Mr. Darcy as well as his friend should feel it necessary to remain the whole afternoon, no one remarked on it. Elizabeth found herself wishing that he had returned to Netherfield for an hour or two, rather than sit here and bear this.

All was made worthwhile, though, when he eventually approached her and made some remark about the shrubbery in the back. She answered him, and after a moment said, "Would you care to see it? I will be glad to show you if are interested."

"I would enjoy that," was his only reply, but a warm look gave her better thanks.

As they went from the room Mrs. Bennet leaned towards Lizzie and whispered as she passed, "I am very grateful to you for taking him away, and I know it is a sacrifice since you dislike him." She would have gone on but Elizabeth, blushing lest Darcy have heard her, offered a confused reassurance and moved away.

If Darcy had heard he showed no sign, but followed her silently from the house. All the windows of the sitting room currently in use looked out over the garden, as well some from Mr. Bennet's library, so they had gained only privacy of speech, but still, both breathed a sigh of relief.

"I am glad you are to speak to my father this evening," said Elizabeth. "I do not know how much longer I could tolerate this pretense."

"I have never liked disguise of any sort," agreed Darcy, then colored rather deeply. Elizabeth was puzzled, at first, to account for his expression, until she remembered that he had said something very similar in their fight after his first proposal.

"It is a good quality," she said, bowing her head to hide her smile, "if used judiciously." Then, more seriously, she looked up again. "I am glad that I can trust you to tell me the truth, and not hide things from me."

He returned the look. "And you as well, Elizabeth?"

She nodded. "I promise."

They said little after that, but strolled slowly through the autumnal colors. At last they sat down by mutual consent on a bench facing the wall of windows. She put her hand down next to her. He did the same and they sat there, almost but not quite touching.

She heard him swallow next to her. "I shall be a candidate for Bedlam if I do not get to hold you soon."

The pronouncement, so unexpected and so unlike him, startled her into a laugh. Blushing, she stifled her giggles against her hand.

He smiled rather ruefully, quirking an eyebrow at her. "You laugh, but I have been wishing for such an opportunity since at least March—no, let me be honest!—since November of last year. Now that I am so close to achieving it, waiting is intolerably difficult."

"We were alone for much of today, sir," she reminded him. "And yesterday."

He shook his head. "I would not take such advantage of you. Not when our engagement is still secret, and you still accustoming yourself to the idea."

"And you have need no such accustoming?"

He paused a moment. "I doubt I will ever accustom myself to such happiness, Elizabeth, but that does not mean that I am not eager to embrace it."

And her, apparently. Elizabeth could not pretend to herself that she did not find the prospect pleasing, and the air grew thick between them until finally, finally in the house the bell to dress for dinner rang.

She sprang to her feet and spoke for both of them. "Oh, thank heaven!"

~%~

Dinner was as awkward as it had been the night before. Already she longed to be at Pemberley, and pondered the merits of elopements. They had managed to procure seats together but said little, though she was touched when he bestirred himself to compliment Mrs. Bennet on the partridges.

After dinner Darcy followed her father to his library while she sat in miserable agitation. Then it was her turn, and she felt anew the mortifying truth of her own folly as she tried to explain how she could come to love a man she had once so proudly claimed to hate. By the end, however, her father was pleased and reassured, and spent some time laughing at her expense. Though she would not be really easy until the engagement was announced publicly and all early disbelief, exultation or censure had passed, it was her father's opinion that had a mattered the most to her, so she reentered the parlor with a lighter heart than she had left it.

Darcy was seated not far from Bingley and Jane, but appeared little occupied with what was passing between them. He looked up as she entered the room and she smiled at him, as he had done at her earlier. She though he looked relieved, and went to sit as near to him as she could. Unfortunately, that was not close enough for confidences, so it was only with a nod, a significant look and another smile that she was able to encourage him.

She took up her stitchery again. After a few minutes he said, "Miss Elizabeth, I believe you might see your work better if you were to take my seat; it is closer to the fire," and stood up.

Uncertain as to his purpose but certain that he had one, she acquiesced immediately. Rather than leaving her, he remained by the chair and, bending lower, spoke softly to her. "Were you able to reassure him?"

She smiled a little. "He thinks as I do now—that you are the best of men."

He shook his head. "That is not what I meant—though I thank you for it."

"I told him," she whispered, turning her head toward him, "that I love you."

He was such the master of his emotions, but she could see the feeling flood his eyes before he straightened and turned away. She understood; a crowded drawing room was not the place to be overcome by tender sentiment.

There were no more moments alone that night. After all company had left she broke the news to her mother, endured her raptures, and went to bed bemused, starry-eyed and full of secret rapture.

~%~

Of course it was not at all the same as it had been yesterday. There was no hope that either she or Mr. Darcy could escape Mrs. Bennet's notice, nor were any long walks in the woods suggested for a third day. Mrs. Bennet was blessedly awe-struck and that made it bearable, but Longbourn had never been more confining. It was a pleasure to watch her father emerge from his room to make conversation, and to see her betrothed take pains to reply, but still she felt a queer, empty ache inside, a dreadful need to be near him, and the violent wish to drag him away somewhere they could be alone.

She laughed at herself, a little, for being so maudlin—or perhaps it was an excess of sensibility. But still the feeling stayed and she could hardly make conversation or even listen to what was being said, for all her being was so concentrated on him, where he sat four feet away. He was infuriatingly composed, returning his usual thoughtful and well-worded comments, looking cool, unflustered and unhurried. Her own mind was in almost as much disorder as her emotions—a point which became clear when she suddenly realized that her father had spoken to her, and both he and Darcy were waiting for her reply.

She blushed. "I beg your pardon," she said. "I did not hear what you said."

"I merely suggested," said Mr. Bennet, clearly amused, "that, seeing as the parlor appears to be rather oppressively crowded, you might prefer to take Mr. Darcy here outside to whichever part of the gardens you deem suitable and discuss," he waved his hand, "all the things that young people in love always have to discuss. Perhaps something of what has been occupying your mind just now?"

His teasing distressed rather than amused her, but she agreed quietly and stood, as Mr. Darcy did the same.

"I would be quick about laying possession to the corner you want," added her father, "or Jane and Bingley may get to it first."

Her face burning, she led Darcy from the room. He said nothing as they emerged from the house, only lengthening his strides to come even with her. This was precisely what she had been wishing for, but she was too embarrassed at first to enjoy it. Darcy was as quiet as he usually was, and it occurred to her that she liked that about him—she liked the sedateness of his manners, the restful calmness of his composure and presence. What once had offended her now soothed her, since she knew the feelings that lay beneath it, and as her own feelings suddenly rose to near bursting, she seized his hand and began to lead him down the garden paths.

He came willingly, matching her quick, short strides with his own long ones. "Where are you taking me?" There was amusement in his voice.

"Away from the house," she said. They took a short cut through the shrubbery, past the first walls, and still further on, the knot garden and the herb garden, the abandoned topiary, all of them visible from the upper floors of the house. Finally they passed another set of walls, higher this time, and Elizabeth led him to a one overgrown with ivy and honeysuckle. With unerring accuracy she fumbled through the greenery, and opened a small door behind. Darcy followed her through the curtain into a small, enclosed garden, much neglected. The gravel path that ran round it had weeds thrusting through, the little pond was green with algae, and none of the shrubs had received more than the most cursory of trimmings—yet, it was not without beauty.

"I used to come here all the time when I was a girl," said Elizabeth, running her hand over the tops of some late irises still growing by the path. "It was my refuge."

"Does no one else come here, then?"

"Jane sometimes, perhaps. I do not know of anyone else."

His hand tightened over hers. "We are alone, then."

"Yes." She turned to him. "I love you." The words came bubbling out.

He drew a breath, and in the same space of time his arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her close. "How I have longed to hear you say those words," he murmured. He touched her face with infinite tenderness, and Elizabeth felt she could bear no more.

"That is good," she managed, "for I feel myself likely to repeat them often."

"Very often, I hope." His hand slid down her cheek to her throat then moved behind, angling against the back of her neck. "I will do the utmost in my power to inspire them."

She could see it in his countenance now, the desire and purposeful intent. And yet he hesitated, caressing her neck lightly, as if in some part of his scrupulous sense of honor he still feared imposing on her.

Elizabeth, who had no such scruples, reached up and pulled his head down.

~%~

They remained in the walled garden for some time, talking a little, but standing together, arms around each other, Elizabeth leaning against him. This closeness, so new and so much desired, was not to be relinquished easily. Periodically she would hear him sigh and press a kiss to her head as his arms tightened a little, as if afraid she would disappear or run away. For her, the world had happily shrunk, for now, to the warmth of his body, the steady beat his heart against her cheek, and the rise and fall of his chest. She closed her eyes, shutting everything else away.

After an unknown period of time she felt him stir, bend a little, and speak into her ear. "Elizabeth," the word was full of love, "as loath as I am to let you go, your father will never let us out of the house again together if we do not return soon."

She raised her face, smiling, and was promptly kissed. "A ruse!" she cried, laughing, when he drew back. "A very sly ruse, sir!"

"No ruse," he answered calmly, letting her go and drawing her arm through his own, "but an opportunity too pleasing to be ignored."

"You say that now," she replied, "but I am determined to suspect you, and spend inordinate time plotting ruses of my own in return."

The went out the little door, shutting it behind them. "I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours," said Darcy with a smile, "but I hope you know you need no ruses with me."

She looked at him through her lashes. "No?"

A moment later, she found herself trapped against the brick wall and ivy, his eyes only inches from hers. "No," he whispered, just before he kissed her again. "Only ever look at me so."

~%~

She had hardly slept last night, and very much feared it would soon affect her looks, but after all she had already captured the heart of the handsomest man in Christendom, so what had she to fear? Jane smiled even more knowingly at her distraction and fixed her hair again.

"Will it always be like this, Jane?" she asked, half laughing, half sighing.

"I do not know, but I hope it may be."

"I love him more today than I did yesterday, and yesterday more than the day before. In another week, another month, another year! how much will I love him then? Can the human heart hold so much?"

"Your heart, Lizzy, is capable of boundless love, as I know very well. Now that it has found so worthy an object, what is to stop its affections from growing, for one year or fifty?"

"Indeed, I hope you are right. No, I know you are." She clasped her sister's hand. "Until now, Jane, you were nearly the only person I could love unreservedly, and think full well of. I cannot imagine not loving you, and now I cannot imagine not loving him, having seen the man he really is. He deserves it, all of it, and as long as he remains deserving—and he will—then I suppose my heart must respond."

Jane squeezed her hand in response. "We are going to be very happy."

"Oh, yes. Oh yes, I intend to be very happy indeed."

"And Mr. Darcy?"

"Mr. Darcy will be very happy too. I will see to it." Then she smiled an impish smile and rose to go downstairs and greet her betrothed.

---

I'm not one to usually need exact visuals, but I picture Elizabeth's butter-colored dress as looking something like this (only more yellow).

I wish you all a blessed, peaceful and happy Christmas, and all the best for the New Year!

Thanks again for your comments. While the soap recipe is actually still in use, please do not follow without some precautions. Merry Christmas.
___________________
Chapter 19

Anne and Agatha continued to develop their practical skills in the kitchen and with needle. Once they had successfully mastered chopping and dicing, they were allowed to make soups and stews from scratch. They were amazed at how many different ones could be made from the same basic ingredients just by varying the proportions and the seasonings

Mrs. Carlisle put all the fats from trimmed meats into crocks each day. These crocks were stored in the cool cellar below the pantry. At least weekly, sometimes more often, these fats would be rendered. This would mean a few hours of carefully cooking the fats to melt out all the oil. Once all was melted, it would be poured through cloth into a pan to form a cake of fat. The cracklings left behind in the cloth would be fed to the dogs. As the girls watched the first time, Mrs. Carlisle explained what she was doing.

“Cleaning the fat is called rendering. We remove the impurities, which allows us to keep the fat safe for a long period of time. If it is stored with impurities, it goes rancid. We use different fats for our frying and flavoring our food. The tallow, from the beef, is used in making both soap and candles. We will show you how to do both the next time we make them. Once the fat cake is hardened, we place it in a crock in the cellar. We keep one cake in the kitchen while we store the rest. The one in the kitchen is the one currently in use. We grease roast pans with lard or tallow. We grease baking pans usually with lard. These keep food from sticking, as you are learning. We use the lard in our baking. They add moistness and flavor to many of our dishes.”

Agatha said, “I had been wondering what you were using in the skillet. I thought you would probably tell us when it came time for us to move beyond the soups.”

Mrs. Carlisle laughed, “Yes, I would, as you can see. There is so much to learn, I did not want to overwhelm you with information. Much easier to learn about it when you start to use it. As you are going to learn about the cleaning next, now is time to learn about tallow. Mrs. Craig will be overseeing the laundry staff making soap before we do laundry next time, and you need to know about tallow for that.”

Anne asked, “So we will learn how to make soap from Mrs. Craig?”

“Yes. Sometimes it is the housekeeper, sometimes the cook who oversees making the everyday soaps. Lady Rachel has Mrs. Craig manage that. I make the tallow and she uses a good chunk of it in making soap.”

The girls finished making their working dresses and put them to good use. The two began to learn to repair tears, to darn, to sew on buttons, and to make hems. Nell practiced these right alongside them. Once these skills were mastered, they put the new skills to practical application in making night clothes for the ill, elderly or new babies within the parish. The completed nightclothes accompanied them when they visited recipients who could appreciate their efforts.

They started learning about the skills required for cleaning, beyond that in the kitchen. The first would be clothing. They were amazed at how difficult it was to do laundry. The different requirements for different types of fabric were fascinating and complex. This explained why laundry was done on a schedule and only twice per month. If the family had been involved in it, it would have taken much more time to accomplish. After everything was washed, it had to be mended if necessary; then it would be pressed. It took many days to wash the laundry. Mending was a never-ending chore. This was something Nell would manage for Anne’s wardrobe.

One day about a week before they planned to learn about laundry, they spent the afternoon with Mrs. Craig and Sally, Lady Rachel’s lady’s maid. Mrs. Craig said, “Girls, Sally is the one in our household responsible for soap. Although we often purchase fancy soaps for the family to use, the rest of the soap is made by staff. Sally has a real knack for it, so we have assigned her to the job. It is a nasty one, and can be very dangerous.”

At a nod in her direction, Sally said, “We have decided to have you help, but we hope you will take the precautions very seriously. It can be very dangerous.” Both girls nodded. Nell looked very solemn. She had seen burns resulting from soap making. They were very ugly.

Mrs. Craig continued her instructions, “We burn hardwood in the kitchen bread oven because it gives a very steady heat so the bread bakes more evenly. We use the ashes from the hardwood to create the lye we need for the soap. Each day, those ashes are carefully cleaned out and placed in a lye leaching barrel. When it is full, we add water. You have seen that lye water used to scour grease from pans. Now, come watch as we prepare the next step.”

The girls followed Mrs. Craig to the lye barrel outside the kitchen. They recognized the crock beneath the barrel as the one used to bring in lye to scour burned grease from the cooking pots. The liquid lye was tested for strength by placing an egg in it. When at the right strength, the egg would float. This liquid was then combined with tallow over a very low heat at the stove. They spent quite a while stirring this mixture as it bubbled. When it became thick, salt might be added to help it set. It was then poured into a soap mold and allowed to cool and harden. These bars of soap were used by the servants and in the laundry. Soap making took an entire day. It would harden overnight.

The next day, the girls learned the next step was preparing soap for washing the clothing. The girls returned to the laundry room, and Mrs. Craig continued her lecture as Sally continued to prepare. “We need to shave the soap into bits to make it more efficient for laundry. If we shave the soap, it will mix with the laundry water more easily. Many people do not bother with soap when they do laundry. They use all manual labor. However, we find that soap helps get the clothes cleaner.”

Sally proceeded to shave up one of the bars of soap. Once it was shredded, the bits were placed into a bowl for use the following day when they would begin washing the laundry. The bowl was covered so that none of the precious soap would blow away.

Next they sorted the clothing into different degrees of color as they would not wash darker clothes with lighter. The last activity of the day was to take all the white clothing and place it in a tub with some diluted lye water to soak before washing. It would help remove stains and maintain the whiteness. Other items with stains were treated by the stain being saturated, then soap rubbed directly into the stain. This would also sit until the washing the next day. If the stain was blood, it would be wet, then covered with salt which would lift out the blood.

The next day, they began early. The maids, Mrs. Craig, Nell, Anne and Agatha met in the kitchen yard where a large cauldron was heating water over a fire. Mrs. Craig said, “We start with our white clothes. They need hot water to help them get clean. Now, some people do not use soap, they simply beat out the dirt. However, we find that soap helps it come out more easily. ” Some of the soap flakes were sprinkled into the hot water. The white clothes were removed from their soaking tub and placed into the hot water. A bat was used to move the clothing around in the hot water. Anne and Agatha took a short turn beating the clothing with the bat. They were not able to do so for very long as they hadn’t yet developed the needed strength or skill. The maids worked until Mrs. Craig deemed the clothing clean. It was then moved into another tub for rinsing. After one rinse, the water in the tub was drained and refilled for a second rinse.

After the clothes were washed, the maids wrung the water out. Again, both girls tried wringing the clothes for practice. They were able to be effective on lighter items, but those that were heavier or larger, like bed linens, were beyond their strength. The wrung out clothes were then placed on a line for drying.

While this was going on, the cauldron was removed from the fire, more water was added to replace that which had been soaked up, and slightly darker clothes were added. The washing then occurred again, with more soap added to the mix and another round of beating clothing. Each change brought a batch of even darker clothing until the final batch of the darkest. It took two days to wash the clothes planned for that week. The girls were exhausted by the end of the first day. However, they continued to assist on the second day.

The clothes hung on the clothes line for at least the remainder of the day that they were washed. The whites were left to hang for at least two days as the sun would help bleach them and keep them whiter. Heavier articles took longer to dry. Once all were dry, mending was the next task.

Sally, Nell, and Mrs. Craig examined all the items looking for small tears. Mrs. Craig said, “If we catch the tears when they are small, the mending is much easier than if they go for longer times. Sally and Nell look each time they put something away, but small tears are easy to miss. You can see here on Lady Rachel’s dress that something happened in the hem. Sally will repair that before we do the pressing. This is also when we might do a bit of changing of trim and such if it is wanted.”

After a morning of mending, the afternoon was spent in pressing. Both irons and mangles were used on clothing. Irons were heated at fire in the laundry room. While still hot, they pressed the wrinkles out of the linens and other clothing. The girls were amazed at how heavy the irons were. Most items were pressed with a mangle rather than a flat iron which was a newer innovation.

After they finished, Anne said, “Now the discussions about fabric care make much more sense. Ironing is so tedious. Irons are also heavy. If we choose a fabric that requires less ironing, it also requires less upkeep.”

Agatha agreed, “I will always think of that in the future when I select a gown.”

As they completed the pressing, Anne added, “I hope I never have to do this myself. It is very tiring. I wonder how they manage laundry on board a ship. I suppose that in foreign parts or at sea, I may be required to do this. I suspect Nell will be the one doing most of the work though.” As she was putting finishing touches on one of Anne’s dresses, Nell smiled at that thought.

Agatha said, “I vow that I will always show appreciation for my lady’s maid. Imagine having to do this all the time. You are probably right that Nell will usually be the one doing all this for you.”

As they completed the laundry, they watched the maids touch up everything they had done. Their own results were passable, but obviously not up to the standards of their maids.

By now, both girls had developed new muscles from these unaccustomed activities. They also had far more respect for those who did these jobs in their households.

While they had respect for the skills, they were aware that these were not skills discussed at a dinner party. The Stevensons hosted a dinner in the latter part of October where skills were not the major topic of conversation. Rather, everyone was worried about the total defeat of the Prussian army at Jena and Auerstadt.

Over the soup course, Sir Michael said, “Now there is nothing to stop the French until they get to Russia. There is no force strong enough to stop them. And I wager that Napoleon will recruit from the Prussians to add to his own forces. Even if they could not withstand him, they are decent soldiers. He may become invincible. And now that Britain is involved, Anthony and Percy have both been sent to the continent. Even more to worry about.”

His neighbor agreed, and the two had an in-depth discussion of the situation to which their neighbors listened closely. At her end of the table, Lady Matilda discussed what it might mean in terms of imports from the northern portion of the continent. Now only Scandinavia would be available. Did anyone know what came from Scandinavia? Unfortunately, they did not, and were concerned that choices would start to become limited as Napoleon’s reach expanded. It had already shown itself in the difficulty of finding good wine and brandy.

After they finished sharing what they knew, what they feared, and what they hoped, they moved into less controversial topics such as the success of shooting that fall. After shooting, the success of the harvest was the main topic of conversation. The evening concluded with all of the ladies performing in the music room. In Anne’s opinion, this was far more enjoyable than a similar evening at Kellynch. Here everyone had participated and seemed to enjoy themselves.

Anne’s correspondence with Sophie Croft was progressing. She had sent an introductory letter when Frederick was still there and had included a note from him. It had taken some weeks, but she had recently received her reply. Because the Crofts were at sea, mail delivery was irregular. Sophie had sent her congratulations and had asked many questions about Anne. Anne spent a morning composing her response to her future sister. From the tenor of the questions, she could see that Sophie would be a far different sister than Elizabeth.

Anne’s correspondence with Mary was also growing. She had written Mary about her engagement and the reason for her removal to South Park when it had occurred. Mary had waited to determine what she really thought before responding. She had considered her father’s response, Lady Russell’s, and grandmother’s before deciding what she felt. Anne had included all in her letter. Mary decided that Anne was doing the right thing, that someone who would cherish her was more important than someone of rank. She sent a letter indicating strong support for the choice that Anne was making. Once again, these two sisters drew closer together which Anne truly appreciated.

Letters to Kellynch were not answered, except for those to Lady Russell. Father and sister were always poor correspondents, at best, when she had been in school. Since they were not happy with her choice, they decided to just ignore Anne. Besides, there was nothing to report. No courting took place at the shooting party. Lady Russell’s letters did fill Anne in about the party and lack of results. She lamented Elizabeth’s short sightedness when it came to men. She also heard about the party from the Musgroves. While Charles loved shooting parties, he was away at university this time and had not attended. Mr. Musgrove felt the shooting had been below standard this year while Mrs. Musgrove had enjoyed visiting with the participants. Anne also heard from Mr. Wentworth about the literacy project. It was moving forward slowly.

Now that the colder weather was upon them, Anne learned to lay the fires, both with wood and with coal. Both were heavy and dirty. She had to sweep out the fireplace first, an incredibly dirty job. Once the fire was laid, she learned to light it. She was grateful that the maids usually took care of this job. Nell was already proficient and assisted Anne as she learned. Anne was grateful that Mrs. Craig had her practice this only once each week after she had learned. It was not a job she enjoyed at all.

In November, the girls made their first steps in learning to knit by knitting dishcloths. The wool for the dishcloths was supplied by Mrs. Craig. Once they could make a consistent weave for the cloths, they would move on to shawls. Their first efforts were comical, ending in a variety of shapes, none quite square. It took quite a few days to achieve consistent tension to create the square. Until then, they would unwind the mistakes and reknit until they achieved passable results.

At this point, Lady Rachel again took them to the village to learn about the different properties of knitting wools and cotton. At the end of the discussion, they selected wools for their shawls. Now that they were able to knit with consistent tension, the work progressed rapidly. With these successfully completed, they determined to make shawls for at least one family member as gifts for Christmas. Shawls were easier than some of the more complex projects.

In the kitchen, they were now concentrating on learning to bake. Mrs. Carlisle was careful in what she let the girls touch, since breads and pastries could be tricky to master. Mrs. Carlisle was a proponent of lard in her pastries but it required a deft touch to make them flaky. They would not attempt those for some weeks. By the end of November, they were able to make a simple tea of bread and soup or stew which was served at the dower house. Agatha remained for dinner to share in the fruit of her labors. The three sat down together and waited for the meal to be served.

Mrs. Craig appeared and announced, “Lady Rachel, I want you to know that Miss Anne and Miss Agatha made everything that appears on the table this evening. It is simple, that is true, but they were able to do it without help under Mrs. Carlisle’s supervision.”

The footman then served the soup while another placed the basket of bread on the table. Lady Rachel said, “This looks lovely. I am proud of you, girls.”

Agatha said, “I am still amazed at how much work is required for a meal that is soup and bread. Now that we know how to do it, we can do it much more efficiently. But it is still a lot of work.”

Anne said, “At least now I know that we will not starve. We won’t have much variety yet, but we won’t starve.”

Lady Rachel said, “Well done. I am very proud you have persevered and mastered this much. You are right, Anne, that there is still much to learn, but you will not starve.”

Over the rest of the meal, they discussed the next steps and the progress they had already made. Both the sewing skills and the cooking skills were now at a satisfactory novice level. They could see how far they had come, but could also see how very far there still was to go.

“Grandmother, as I see how much we have had to learn just to make a simple meal and night clothes, I am more grateful than ever for your suggestion. I know Captain Wentworth will ultimately be successful, and even now we could afford a modest home and servants, but this will truly enable me to manage our household no matter what our circumstances,” said Anne.

Agatha added, “And I will always have a much greater appreciation for both the servants and the tenants. Many of the tenants get by with no servants. Others have only a char to do the heavy work. And it is amazing how heavy that heavy work is.”

Lady Rachel replied, “It never hurts to understand the position of others in life. You gain greater appreciation for your own and their contributions through the studies you are making. Gratitude is never wasted. Neither is knowledge. Next year, you will learn about all the harvest activities. This year, most of that in the autumn was taking place in the afternoons when you were sewing. That is a completely different challenge. Well, at least Anne will learn. Agatha may be in her own establishment by that time. As the weather keeps us indoors and curtails some of our visits, we will start spending time on budgeting. I do not mean the level that the Lady normally does. We will get down to details about how to budget your money and choose wisely among different merchants. That will help both of you.”

Agatha laughed and replied, “That is what we hope, anyway. I hope to be in my own place before next autumn. Budgeting will be very helpful, I’m sure.”

After this dinner, the wintery weather started coming in fits and starts. Cold, blustery winds had arrived, so, on many days, Agatha remained at the main house. Otherwise, she was forced to use the carriage to join the classes at the dower house. Anne continued to progress in the kitchen, now adding a variety of casseroles to her soups and stews. She also began learning how to prepare the sweet course. She found she enjoyed cooking, although she did not care for the clean up afterwards.

Both girls found discussions about procurement and budgeting very different than they would be as Lady of an estate. The housekeeper was the one who selected which establishments they used and understood about the prices paid for various items. While the Lady on the estate was involved at a general level, the girls were now learning at the level the housekeeper used instead. They helped reconcile accounts and determined where changes might be beneficial. It was surprising how complicated it could be.
 
Chapter 20

By the time the Christmas season had arrived, both had made many of the presents for their family members. Anne purchased items for her father and sisters and Lady Russell, but for everyone in the South Park family, she made items she knew they would appreciate. She sent embroidered handkerchiefs to Frederick, getting them sent early in November so there was a chance they would reach him by Christmas. Since he had left in October, she wrote him each week, updating him on the little things she was doing. She had received one letter from him from the day before he shipped out in early October. He was being sent to the Indies again. He indicated that she might expect to actually receive letters at least every six months, sometimes more frequently.

December promised another set of family festivities as William and Charles Stanley had planned a double wedding ceremony and invited all of the family to attend. William, Lord Stanley, was engaged to Ethel Bosworth. Charles was engaged to Cora Harmon. The brothers had always been close, and when they had each become engaged during the spring, had determined to wed together near their home. Their brides were also friends, so they were willing to share their special day together.

At the beginning of December, Sir Michael and Lady Matilda left to collect Mary from school. While she had not been able to meet Arabella and attend the September wedding, she was looking forward to meeting her new cousin and attending the wedding for the others. She was deemed old enough to attend instead of being relegated to the nursery during the activities. They rode straight from school to Derby.

At the end of that week, everyone else packed up and left South Park to meet in Derby for the holiday. William and Charles Stanley were marrying on December 18. At James’ wedding in September, everyone had agreed to travel to Derby for this larger family wedding. The brides were both from local gentry, so their families had not needed to travel.

The Stanley’s home was a beautiful stately mansion with plenty of rooms to house the large family. Lord and Lady Derby were there to greet each of the family members as they arrived. He made arrangements to curtail his estate management activities during the holiday season in favor of hosting duties. As each carriage arrived, the inhabitants were welcomed into the house, with Lady Derby immediately tasking a footman to get the group up to their rooms to refresh and warm up again. They would then be shown into the parlor for a cup of tea and talk.

Anne, Mary, and Agatha were given rooms next to one another and all planned to spend a great deal of time together. Mary was pleased to meet Arabella. She could see why James had liked her so very much.

Once all had arrived, it seemed that the only quiet moments were at night when everyone was sleeping. As Susan and Lady Rachel were sitting together in the parlor watching the chatter one afternoon, Susan remarked, “I just love times like this when we are all together, even though it is so often chaotic. It is nothing like when the children were all young together, but it is still rather noisy.”

Lady Rachel remarked, “When the children were young, they were mostly in the nursery together. I like this much better.”

Susan said, “If only Elizabeth were still here with us. It is a shame that Sir Walter and Elizabeth do not like our family functions. I am glad Anne and Mary are here though. Anthony and Percy are still missing, though. I hope they are well.”

Lady Rachel sniffed. “I am sure the boys are fine. Walter does not feel comfortable around us. We do not share his opinions or viewpoints, and he finds ours to be unintelligible. We do not defer to him, and he seems to need that deference to feel comfortable. His oldest is so different from her sisters. I fear Mary would have followed his lead, but this past year she has truly started to improve. Anne is so like her mother and Elizabeth so different, I wonder that they are even related. Mary is becoming more like Anne and her mother every day. Elizabeth follows her father in looks and Anne and Mary their mother. It is a little like having my Elizabeth back to have Anne living with me.”

Susan patted her mother’s hand and replied, “It must be. It was really kind of you to come to Anne’s rescue. I do not understand her father’s opposition to the match.”

“Simple. He is not exalted enough to attach to the Elliot name. Even if he doesn’t care about Anne, he does care about the Elliot name. However, Captain Wentworth is a good man, and it will be an excellent match. And his disapprobation means I get to spend almost two years with Anne as my companion. I cannot regret that.”

“It also means she and Mary can be here for the wedding and Christmas. If they were at Kellynch, we would not see them.”

Meanwhile, Anne, Agatha, Mary and Arabella were becoming better acquainted with Cora and Ethel. The six clustered together on two sofas and discussed their upbringings, their families, the upcoming wedding, and Arabella’s new life with James.

Mary was so excited to be included as an adult even though she was still a school girl. This gathering was so different from those at Kellynch, and the interactions among the women so different, that she began revising her opinions on how relationships should work. She had never considered the reciprocation involved in healthy interactions between friends and family since there was none in the Elliot family. She watched more than she participated, and she came to the realization that friendship involved both people making an effort. She also realized that she had few real friends. She had the opportunity to turn Henrietta and Louisa Musgrove into true friends, but it would require making some changes on her part. Over the course of the holiday, she continued to study what worked and what made people want to spend time together. She decided that she needed to make some changes so that when she returned to school, she cultivated some true friendships. She was doubly glad she had chosen to come to Grandmother instead of Kellynch for this holiday.

In the evenings, all of the girls took turns to play on the piano for the family. Once again, Mary was grateful for Anne’s encouragement the previous summer as she acquitted herself quite well. The more Mary associated with her extended family, the more she saw the limited picture her father presented of the world, and the more she rejected his viewpoint.

Nell enjoyed the trip as well. Sally provided training on how a lady’s maid acted when on a visit such as this. Nell was becoming quite proficient and appreciated the differences between South Park and Derby. As she helped Anne one evening, she said, “Miss Anne, I can already see how different my life will be thanks to you. I can never thank you enough for choosing me for your lady’s maid.”

“I am glad you are enjoying your new responsibility. Is Sally giving you tips on how to act while we are here?”

“Yes. She is ever so helpful. It looks like my life will be very interesting with you. I just wanted you to know how grateful I am.”

Although there had been snow off and on throughout the month, December 18 dawned cold and clear. The sun shone on a white landscape that appeared picture perfect for Christmas. The family filed out of the house and into carriages for the short ride to the chapel. They arrived to find it filled with Christmas greens and smelling of balsam. Family and friends filled the small chapel on the estate to overflowing. As William and Charles moved to the front, they each gave a nervous smile at the congregation of well-wishers. Finally, the organist played the fanfare and everyone arose. On the arm of her father, Ethel appeared in the aisle and walked slowly toward William. Behind her, Cora appeared to have a tighter grasp on her father’s arm as she waited her turn to start.

As the brides joined their grooms, white handkerchiefs appeared and began to dab at eyes throughout the rooms. Both mothers of the bride wept softly. Susan managed not to cry, but her mother joined in with the quiet weeping. Within a few moments, Ethel and Cora had joined the Stanley family, with Ethel becoming Lady Stanley.

Everyone in the chapel then joined in a festive wedding breakfast up at the house. It lasted well into the day, winding down only after each new couple finally said their farewells. Each was going to stay in a different hunting lodge nearby allowing them some privacy as they became accustomed to a new life together. They would rejoin the family on Christmas Eve.

Christmas at Debry was a fun break for the entire family. It was far more congenial than the celebration at Kellynch and far better attended. Mary had chosen to come to her grandmother and sister, assuming there would be more to do and more fun. In this, she was correct. Besides fun, it was also a great learning opportunity. Almost everyone else there outranked her. And in spite of that, very little attention was paid to rank. This was almost the complete opposite of the situation at Kellynch. Along with her insight into friendship, this enabled Mary to see how little rank should play in the interactions between friends and relations. This might explain why her father and eldest sister appeared to have few friends while Anne appeared to have many, at least if correspondence and the way people spoke of one another were any judge.

While practicing piano with Anne’s assistance, she mentioned this to Anne. “I have noticed that when it is just the family present, no one seems to pay any attention at all to rank. When others are visiting, everything is most correct and precedence is followed, but when it is only family, it is ignored. Is that usually the case in families like ours?”

“One of the reasons Father is uncomfortable with the Stevensons is their attitude about rank and precedence. Father is never able to ignore it and feels he is always entitled to deference. However, the Stevensons consider that, in order to promote more harmonious family relationships, rank and precedence should be ignored within the family circle. If it is not, how can we be happy together?”
Mary replied, “I had been noticing their attitude and wondering about it. We have never spent much time with the extended family, at least since Mother passed, so I had never seen this before.”

Anne smiled. “I was old enough when Mother passed that I had already had a lot more experience of this than you. If you continue to learn from Grandmother and the extended family, rather than just from Father and Elizabeth, I think you will find a far happier situation in life. Father and Elizabeth suffer from their attitude to everyone around them. They are never satisfied. Grandmother is just the opposite. And her happiness has nothing to do with being an Earl’s daughter. It is in her attitude to life.”

Mary nodded her head in understanding and returned to her practicing. However, she continued to observe and ponder what she saw.
The Stanleys held an Open House for neighbors on Christmas Eve. The newlyweds all returned to participate in the celebration. At the beginning of the evening, they held a Yule log lighting ceremony. The grand fireplace had been thoroughly cleaned and a fire laid which included a huge log that would burn all night. A remnant of the prior year’s Yule log was used to light this year’s log as the festivities began shortly before dark fell. It brought good luck for the coming year if the log burned well all night.

After the lighting, carols were sung to welcome in the holiday. These were followed by an evening of dancing. Finally, they all headed down to the chapel for a midnight Christmas service. Following the service, the neighbors returned to their homes while the family returned to the house and their beds.

In the morning, the family attended another Christmas service. Gifts were exchanged in the afternoon prior to another sumptuous feast. Mary was excited that she had attended until the dancing began. Kellynch rarely hosted any Christmas festivities. Sir Walter and Elizabeth would attend those of a neighbor. Anne had joined in the previous year while Mary had remained home alone. Once she was ‘out,’ she would be allowed to attend the dancing as well as the midnight service.

After Christmas, James, Arabella, and Hugh’s family returned to their homes in London, Mary to school, and the rest to life at South Park which became quieter, settling into a predictable pattern. Due to the snow, visits to neighbors were curtailed. Agatha attended Anne’s training irregularly as they kept mainly to their own houses during storms.

Frederick's American Café

Chapter 8

Morning dawned. Frederick was awake earlier than his usual hour. The cot available to him was sagging and uncomfortable. His neck, back and arm ached from resting on it as long as he did. His clothes were rumpled beyond wear. And if he didn’t get a shave this morning, he might as well not bother.


He half-expected Hemmert to remove him from his cell and march him to the station where the warrant would be delivered. He got his hopes up briefly when the German entered the office whistling cheerfully, but Hemmert ignored him completely, despite Frederick’s attempts to gain attention, and shut himself up in his private office momentarily before appearing flushed and angry, muttering under his breath in German and exiting once more to the square.


Frederick was by now officially tired of this incarceration. He hoped there was a warrant so that he could get out of the cell and open the safe, and rub in Hemmert’s nose that there was nothing in it to support his claims. Anne had been vague the other night as to when she would remove their things, but surely she took them with her when she cleared out. Surely there was nothing in it now to get her or the rest of her family in trouble.


As he sat ruminating, there was a knock on the outer door and then Harville let himself in.


“Boss!” he exclaimed in relief to find Frederick exactly where he had left him. He carried a breakfast tray over to the cell and held out a ring of keys. “I’ve come to spring you!”


“Hemmert sent you?” asked Frederick in disbelief. Hemmert did not seem like the kind of man to lend out such keys to anyone.


“N-no,” Harville stuttered, a bad sign. “I got the keys from Mrs. Wilkes. Her whole party just showed up again at the hotel like nothing happened and she said she wanted to speak with you. I told her that Mr. Hemmert had you locked up on account of your not opening the safe without a warrant even though her brother is supposed to be a spy. And she said that’s impossible; she would know if her own brother was a spy or not. Then she gave me Mr. Hemmert’s keys and said to let you out, and she went into your office and shut the door.” Harville paused with key almost in the lock of the cell door. “Why do you suppose Mr. Hemmert gave her the keys?”


The thought of Anne so close to Hemmert, so close to danger, nearly drove him wild. “Get me out of here!” he bellowed at Harville, straining at his handcuff, unable to grab the keys from his hand.


Harville took a step back. “You gotta calm down, boss. Mrs. Wilkes said I wasn’t allowed to let you go if you were going to get into trouble right away. She was quite clear on that. She said if you were going to do anything stupid, you’d be better off locked up.”


Frederick wanted to yell, but stopped himself. Yelling at Harville wasn’t going to get him out of this cell. He needed to convince his concierge that he was a calm and reasonable man. Once he was out, he could drop his mask. After a few deep breaths, he announced, “I’m calm. Now let me out.”


Harville needed no more proof. First the cell door, then the handcuffs fell open.


Frederick wasted no time with thanks but pushed past his rescuer and out of the office into the square. Harville followed close at his heels.


The standoff had already started. Hemmert stood in the center of the square, near the fountain, his gun already drawn and aimed at the foursome standing in front of The American. From his vantage point, Frederick could see Elizabeth, Anne, and Wilkes lined up and wearing the same clothes they had worn on the day they arrived. Next to Wilkes stood Russell Elliot in a suit he had borrowed from his brother-in-law. From this distance, it was hard for Frederick to tell the men apart. The morning crowd that typically milled about the square, flowing from storefront to storefront before ebbing away as the heat of the day grew stronger, had clustered around the perimeter of the square, as far away from Hemmert as they could get while still observing the action.


“Give up, Elliot, and I’ll spare your companions,” Hemmert offered. “This is your last chance. I’ll give you to the count of three. Eins. Zwei.”


The sound of “drei” was drowned by the report of the pistol finally firing. In all the time that Frederick had known the German, Hemmert had never actually fired that pistol. It had been a decorative piece on his uniform, no more functional than a shiny gold button. It was not until two days ago, when Hemmert had wielded it like a club, that the gun had shown any utility at all.


It was Anne who fell. It was Elizabeth who screamed, a sound that pierced Frederick’s heart. She observed the fallen form of her sister and screamed a second time while Wilkes dropped to his knees to give what aid he could to his wife.


Frederick started to run across the square but Harville tackled him before the second step. The mood of the crowd had been hushed, subdued, observant, but watching a murder -- and Frederick did not doubt the shot would prove fatal -- made them skittish and uneasy. The murmuring grew to random shouts. There was a powderkeg here if someone would provide a match.


The spark came from an unlikely source. Benny, the thieving orphan, ran from the fringes and latched onto Hemmert’s arm before he aimed for a second shot. The boy was strong and wiry for his size as Frederick could attest, and Hemmert had a tough time shaking him off. But they were unequally matched and it was only a matter of time. With a hard shove, Hemmert sent the boy sprawling across the sand. As the boy started to get up for a second attack, Hemmert fired, and fired again.


The crowd fell deathly silent, and Frederick heard in that silence the orders for Hemmert’s execution. A few merchants began to advance on him and he whipped his gun around to them to stave them off. It worked for a time, but just as Benny stood no chance against Hemmert, so Hemmert stood no chance against a native crowd aching for his blood. As the menace grew closer, Hemmert fired another shot. A man fell.


Then a different shot rang out, from another part of the square, close enough to Frederick that it might have come from on top of him. The German’s neck whipped forward sharply and he fell lifeless to the sand as the crowd rushed in to claim his body.


Harville kept his head buried but Frederick craned his neck to see who had assassinated the Gestapo. Croft was standing by him with a hard look on his face that Frederick had never seen. In his hand the metallic flash of a gun appeared briefly and was gone.


Croft caught Frederick’s eye and grunted in satisfaction. “I’ve been waiting for that for ages.”

---

It was always Edward Wentworth, Frederick's brother, who was meant to travel the world. Edward, with his quiet curiosity, his innate grasp of almost any situation, had seemed to possess a calling in life.


When Edward announced to his family that he had finally saved enough to go to Italy, his siblings greeted the news with a content inevitability. In a look shared between the two, Frederick and Sarah wondered if their brother would ever come home from such a trip. Both suspected he would join the first religious order to admit him, and then they would receive a cable stating their brother was remaining in Europe indefinitely.


Edward had saved his money. He had bought a ticket on a trans-Atlantic steamer. His passport was ready, his visas were in order. He had learned passable Italian from an immigrant who worked on his line. He had even arranged a leave of absence at the factory: as long as he returned in four months, they would take him back.


And then the unthinkable happened. He met a girl. This was not just any girl; she was the girl who changed everything.


"You've got to meet Angela," Sarah informed Frederick as the day of Edward's departure drew closer. "I believe she's the one, and I think Edward believes it too. I'll bet you he doesn't stay in Italy after all. I'll bet you he even cuts short his stay. Ha! It wouldn't surprise me if he popped the question before he left."


Frederick had not observed his brother with this mystery woman, so he was skeptical. "Don't make Edward out to be someone he's not," he cautioned his sister. "He's never been girl crazy."


"That's exactly my point!" Sarah exclaimed, undeterred. "You know how he is: it's like pulling teeth to get him to express any interest at all. But not with Angela! He's in love! For the first time in his life, he's in love. Do you know what this means?"


Frederick only thought that it meant his sister was imagining things, but Edward brought up the topic himself the next week.


"Frederick, I have a problem," he said, getting quickly to the point. "I can't go to Italy. You see, it's Angie..."


Frederick was disappointed. "She told you not to go?!"


"No, nothing like that," Edward assured him. "She'd never do something like that. It's me; I don't want to leave her. I can't go."


Frederick thought it was wrong for his brother not to trust this woman for the few months he'd be gone. If Angela would wait for him, then surely Edward could go. And if she wouldn't wait for him, then surely Edward would be better off leaving, and getting the messy part over with.


"I didn't expect you to understand," Edward said, sadly smug. "I'm not going, and you can't change my mind. I just wanted to ask you a favor."


Frederick abused his brother's stupidity a little longer, berating him for all that wasted expense. "You can be sure you won't get any money back now. Even if you found a sucker to buy your ticket from you -- at a heavy discount -- you can't cash in that passport. And what are you going to do about a job, and a place to live? They've already found someone to take your shift, and you can't afford rent without a paycheck."


This was exactly the segue that Edward was hoping for. "That's where my favor comes in," said he, finally interrupting Frederick's harangue. "I want you to go in my place. If you go, it'll all work out. I'll take your shift at the factory, and you'll take my berth on the ship. Use my passport; we look enough alike. Whether it's Ed or Fred Wentworth, what do they care?"


Frederick was not quickly persuaded, but in the end he capitulated. He would go to Europe and his brother would stay behind and get engaged. If Edward planned it correctly, Frederick would be back in plenty of time to stand up as best man at the wedding.


Of course, Frederick never made it home. Instead he fell in love, just as utterly and even more rapidly than his brother. For a while, he could see the sense in what Edward had done, abandoning an outmoded dream and reaching for the new. It seemed like a greater sacrifice to walk away from Anne than to turn his back on anything else.


But then Anne had walked away from him. The daydream of introducing his family to Mrs. Frederick Wentworth twisted painfully into the galling act of witnessing his brother's joy. He didn't know how he would bear it without throwing gloom over Edward's wedding. Upon reflection, he realized he didn't have to. It was far easier to miss his return voyage than to deal with well-meaning friends and family heaping pity on him when they learned of his disappointment.


He missed Edward's wedding, and Sarah's the year following. He missed christenings and promotions. He missed his brother-in-law being transferred to Virginia. He missed so many mundane things that he didn't even realize how they added up.


He passed himself off as a man who didn't care. For the most part, it was true. Life had lost a lot of worth in Italy. Something he didn’t even know he cherished had been exposed as a cheap sham, and he had borne the loss for so long that it seemed normal. It wasn't until two nights ago that he could feel the true value of things seep back into the world but watching Anne’s life snuffed out sent him right back to where he started.


He was adrift again. He might as well die on the sand for all that it mattered. And if someone didn't rescue him soon, he probably would.

Christmas. Sorry to be tardy. By the way, I've been told there's a Mills & Boon with the same title so what do people think of The Hasty Proposal instead?

Chapter 19

Edward sent a letter round the next day to Beth, a dreadful scrawl that she puzzled over with Letty.
“He appears to have lost sleep and needs to help with deformed lavender,” said Beth. “Oh! Can it be that he has lost some sheep and needs to help with the orphaned lambs? Really his steward ought to be able to manage that, though I know Edward does like to be involved,” she said. “Oh, I see, something about lambs having a disease called bent-leg, deformed lambs, I see, and of course he wants to be there to make sure that he may do all he can, poor things. He writes that he will certainly be back in time for the ball at Arvendish House. Well, if he is not, he is not; he must attend to his livestock.”
“And that, my dear, is why you are the perfect wife for him,” said Letty, “because you enter into his concerns about his livestock, and are not jealous of the time he spends with them.”
“Well, I would prefer that his livestock did not need him to post up to Suffolk, obviously,” said Beth, “but when we are married, I shall not need to be apart from him, since I will be, I hope, helping him.” She sighed. “I wish he might have couched the letter in more lover-like terms, though; perhaps you are wrong that he feels a partiality to me.”
“He only writes such terse notes to those people he values most,” said Letty. “I know Edward; he puts notes to people who are not his nearest and dearest into flowery periods, and makes sure his handwriting is legible.”
Beth brightened.
“Well, in that case, we have almost a week without him which must be filled, and I confess something I should like to do is to see the sights of London. We must visit the menagerie, and see the Tower, and St Paul’s, and the British Museum. I am keen to see the black stone on which nature has inscribed the likeness of Chaucer, you know, ever since I read about it. Papa was going to take me to London to see it, before he died. Isaac D’Israeli wrote about it in an essay which was printed in a newspaper, wherein I read about it.”
“Well we must certainly see that!” said Letty, “Though if I were you, I would be prepared for some disappointment, for what some people see easily with their imaginations, may not be as clear to others.”
“Well, there must be some resemblance, or the curators would have sent away the finder of it with a flea in his ear,” said Beth, “but I shall allow for some exaggeration.”
“We shall not, however, go tomorrow,” said Letty, “for I recall reading a rumour that the Grand Duchess of Oldenburg is to visit the British Museum, and we do not wish to be caught up in the crowds looking at her as much as at the exhibits, nor do we want to be trammelled by her people, who will naturally wish to keep her at a distance from ordinary folk.”
“I should hate to be a Grand Duchess, even if we had such things in England,” said Beth. “But I pray you, let us go and see her; for I should like of all things to have seen Grand Duchess Catherine, for she is said to be as beautiful as any princess in a fairy tale!”
Letty laughed.
“Oh, very well,” she said, “and then we might see St Paul’s today, and the museum on Monday.”
Beth was suitably impressed by the grandeur of St Paul’s Cathedral, and she and Letty amused themselves by testing the tales of the whispering gallery. However she was looking forward to seeing the controversial Grand Duchess, whom, rumour whispered, disliked the Regent almost as much as he disliked her. Russia, however, was an ally in the defeat of the monster Bonaparte, so rumour must not be spoken too loudly. Some said that the Grand Duchess was in England, on behalf of her brother the Tsar, to break the betrothal of Princess Charlotte to the Prince of Orange, the alliance not being to the liking of Russia. Beth just wanted to see the spectacle!

The crowds waiting to see the Grand Duchess were considerable, and as the carriage was held up by them in any case, Beth suggested to Letty that they climb up beside John Coachman, the better to see. It lifted them too above the noise and bustle of the crowd, and the smell of bodies packed closely together.
Letty smiled, and agreed, for Beth would need a chaperone in so exposed a position, but Letty had not the heart to spoil the younger woman’s fun, and readily climbed up with her. John Coachman grimly flourished his whip to make sure that any lewd fellows who might think to make game with two ladies would be thinking again; and any ribald comments died unspoken at the determination on his face.
The ripple of excitement running through the crowd at the far end of the street told those waiting of the impending arrival of the Grand Duchess, and the ringing of the hooves of horses was heard above the ragged cheers that thronged the way.
The sound of so many hooves was explained quickly since Grand Duchess was accompanied by outriders of cuirassiers in splendid uniforms, and aggressively Russian military moustaches. The plumes on their golden helmets bobbed as they trotted in step, a prodigiously difficult thing to do, as many of the crowd were knowledgeable enough to realise, applauding spontaneously. The Grand Duchess herself was in an open carriage, despite the chill weather, plainly adoring the adulation of the crowd, and waving occasionally a languid hand. Her dark curls and smouldering eyes attracted attention of all, as did the many and massive pearls that adorned her person!
“Why, how jealous Amelia Hazelgrove would be,” said Beth, “for I know that the Grand Duchess is in her thirties, yet she outshines Amelia, for having the look that Amelia would like to have, seductive and smouldering.”
“She’s also reputed to be quite as unpleasant as Amelia can be,” said Letty. “However, at least we do not move in the sort of circles where we have to avoid the spite of someone as influential as a Grand Duchess; for though Amelia Hazelgrove is all that is amiable, I cannot help thinking that she is still pursuing poor Edward, and likely to do you an ill turn if she knew that he was betrothed to you. But she at least has little enough influence! Well, that was a pleasant spectacle, to be sure; and we shall enjoy the museum the better when illustrious persons are not there. Come, Beth, let us resume the carriage!”
Beth climbed down.
“I should like to purchase a book that I saw advertised in the papers, it is by Mr Ackermann, and is the first volume of something called The Microcosm of London,” she said, “for I believe it features the British Museum in its pages.”
“We must see if it is available,” said Letty. “It will be an instructive volume, I am sure! And I very much admire Mr Ackermann’s prints, so I hope it will be illustrated, as is the Repository of Arts. There is so much to be seen in the museum of course, one might take all day and not see it all! There are many Egyptian artefacts of course, for some were seized from French ships conveying them to France, and other antiquities too, from Greece and Rome and other ancient places; and there are the natural exhibits, stones and minerals, animals and birds stuffed in a most lifelike way, and so on.”

It may be said that Beth found that the visit to the British Museum felt somewhat flat without Edward, with whom to discuss the exhibits, though there was much to marvel at with the Egyptian artefacts, some donated by British antiquarians, as well as those captured from the French. There too was a the celebrated sarcophagus of Alexander, as well as all the Etruscan, Greek and Roman antiquities, which could only be enhanced, as Beth said, by the addition of the Townley collection, whose purchase for the museum was to be debated in the House of Commons.
As both the second and the fifth rooms contained portraits of Oliver Cromwell, Beth went back and forth from one to the other, and studied them closely.
“Now I shall definitely recognise him, if he should indeed haunt us,” she laughed.
“Oh Beth, you are funning! But I think so austere a fellow would scorn to do anything so frivolous as haunting, as we were agreed when first told the story!” said Letty. “Did you not see the exhibition of native boats, clothes and weaponry from Australia and the like? it is most quaint!”
“It did not interest me so much as the antiquities of our own ancient Britons, nor the classical or Egyptian displays,” said Beth. “I cannot think, however, that Cromwell would be found to be very happy, if his portrait might only speak of it, to be found in company with heathen idols from all over the world in the one room, and with a royal companion like Tsar Peter the Great in the other room.”
“Oh, I beg to differ, my love,” said Letty. “For Peter the Great came incognito to Britain to work in a shipyard, to take back techniques to his own country. He was as practical as even Edward!”
Beth gazed anew on the portrait.
“Somehow I could not imagine the current tsar being able to turn an honest day’s work, and still less can I imagine it of the Grand Duchess,” she said.
Letty chuckled.
“I agree!” she said.
Beth thought that her favourite exhibit was in the banqueting hall, where a portrait of George II stared down on an amazing table all inlaid with different samples of lava.
“Oh dear, it is a shame, perhaps that we have done the whole in order,” she sighed, “For I have wanted very much to see the lavas, spars and minerals, and too the shells and petrifications, but I fear I shall be too tired to enjoy it as much as I hoped, and I cannot, just cannot go on to view the natural history of animals and serpents.”
“Why, my dear, we have plenty of time, and might view them another day, and the minerals and petrifications too, if you wish,” said Letty.
“No, I am determined to see the stone that looks like Chaucer,” said Beth.
Alas for Beth’s determination, the stone resembling Chaucer appeared to no longer be on display! It made a disappointing end to a day not entirely as well enjoyed as might have been expected, but Letty smiled.
“Cheer up, Beth! Perhaps Edward will be back before too long, and will be able to escort us another time.”
Beth brightened.
“That would be splendid,” she said. “It is not that I do not enjoy your company, dearest Aunt Letty, but…”
“But it would be wonderful indeed if a young woman did not prefer the company of her young man,” said Letty.
Beth sighed.
“I would rather be feeding orphaned sheep through a fine glove finger or whatever is needful than dressed in finery in the Capital of the world, as some call London.”
“Of course you would,” said Letty. “But most ineligible until you are wed!”

Edward was missing Beth’s company as well, for he would have welcomed her thoughts on the disease of bent-leg, which he had read about, as most common in young tups between six and twelve months. Edward suspected that it was a form of rickets, and was sorry that the grass was poor with so little warmth from the sun. His shepherds had not thought to supplement the feed of the sheep, and Edward was certain that being hungry had contributed towards the lambs having succumbed so readily to the disease as they weaned, which was not a condition he had come across before.
“I seen it afore, master,” volunteered one of the shepherds. “When we hed wet, winter and spring, ar, must be ninety-seven. It’s when there be-ant much sun jew see? Thass a bad thing. Moi ol’ granpa, he say ‘dew yew feed un on milk and butter, thass gwine ter help, John moi lad, and get ‘em in th’ sun’, and thass what I done, and thass helped some back then. An’ when the weather got better, so did they, them as wasn’t deformed permanentually.”
“Milk and butter, eh?” said Edward. “Have you been trying that?”
John Shepherd shook his head, and spat.
“Them ow’ steward o’ yourn say ‘do-ant yew be so daft-loik, John-bor’ oony he say it his jaw-crack voice wass come outa thinkin’ as how he moight be a gen’lman which he aint, nowise.”
“I’ll speak to him,” said Edward. If he put it diplomatically enough, he might even have Michael Fowler volunteering John’s suggestion scornfully, and then be able to suggest that it was worth trying anything. “I know it’s cold, John, but shear them along their backs too, leave the belly wool for warmth, because if it is a lack of sunshine, odd as that may seem, letting what little sun there is reach to warm them when it is out might help. If you build shelters out of hurdles for the night they should take no harm. I recall seeing something similar in city children, who were also pale, and saw little of the sun; and though it seems unlikely that sun alone can cure it, we have no harm in trying.”
“Ar,” said John. “Reckon thass as good a thing to try as any, master.”
Michael Fowler was willing to animadvert about the old wives’ tales of John as Edward believed; and Edward listened.
“Let John do as he will,” he said, “and provide him with as much milk and butter as possible, which is precious little at this time of year in so cold a spring, I fear. But it cannot harm, save to our meagre dairy profits, and if it works, then the old wives’ tales are vindicated. We have little to lose because this year’s hoggets will all have to be killed if we cannot cure it in a hurry.”
“Well, Mr Brandon, if you say so,” said Mr Fowler. Edward hid a smile at the accuracy of John’s description of his jaw-crack voice. Mr Fowler’s father was a bailiff who had managed to send his son to a grammar school, even if he had not managed to penetrate the haunts of gentlemen so far as to go to university. Edward decided he might leave matters in the hands of an obedient and well-educated, if not especially innovative or brilliant steward, so he might return to Beth.


Chapter 20

Edward arrived at his London house too late to escort Letty and Beth to the rout party he knew they were attending, at Elizabeth’s house, and he debated putting his feet up for the evening, and going to call on the morrow, because he was tired; but then, the thought of Beth gave him the impetus he needed to put on evening clothes and go to the rout to meet them there.
As it happened, there were other people arriving as late as Edward, but they were arriving fashionably late, and treated the Medlicotts as though they were doing them a favour in turning up at all. Edward apologised punctiliously, explaining that he had just driven into town from Suffolk.
“Oh, I .d..do hope your sheep are d…doing better, Mr B…Brandon,” said Elizabeth. “Beth t…told me you write a t…terrible hand, but that she thinks they have b…bandy legs.”
“Essentially, yes,” said Edward. “It’s a form of rickets, I think; and I have hopes of relieving the condition, but nobody really knows how to cure rickets, so I’m going with the old wives’ tales of my shepherds in the hopes something works.”
“Well, I h…hope they know what they are t…talking about,” said Elizabeth. “Beth is p…playing for some dancing, perhaps you will like to r…relieve Mrs Grey of t…turning her pages?”
“I’d be delighted,” said Edward.
He was doomed to be delayed.
“EDWARD!” cried Amelia. “Where have you been? Beth tried to tell me some hum about sheep with bent legs!”
“No hum at all,” said Edward. “It’s a serious condition and could make a huge deficit in the farm profits, even if there is a profit this year, which could be doubtful, if they have to be slaughtered early.”
“Oh pooh, I have enough money for both of us, when we are married you won’t need the farm,” said Amelia.
“My good Miss Hazelgrove, even if I intended to marry you, which I do not, I should not permit you to pursue such a laissez faire attitude to money,” said Edward. “Why, your grandfather must be turning in his grave! He amassed your fortune, and it is not there to be squandered. Money is like a farm, if you do not nurture it and care for it, it withers and dies. I take my farm very seriously, as a result of which I am quite well off.”
Amelia flounced, and tittered.
“Why, you cannot expect ladies to understand money!” she said.
“Actually, I do,” said Edward. “I might not expect a lady to have been taught how to understand consols, shares and compound interest, but I consider that the blanket assumption that women cannot understand money at all is insulting on the part of a man who says so, and wilfully foolish on the part of a woman. A woman has to understand, if nothing else, how to hold a household, and oversee its accounts.”
“That’s for the housekeeper,” said Amelia, sulkily.
“And how do you check whether the housekeeper is cheating you?” asked Edward, gently. “I think you might be pleased to have avoided marriage with me; because discovering such an appalling ignorance in any lady I took as my wife would mean that I felt it behoved me to hire a tutor for her.”
“I suppose Beth Renfield is a paragon who understands how to play the stock market,” said Amelia, sulkily.
“No, but she knows how many beans make five, and is amenable to being given instruction,” said Edward. “But that is neither here nor there; and speaking of Beth, I am supposed to turn pages for her, your servant, Miss Hazelgrove!” he bowed punctiliously and moved off. Amelia stamped her foot. Edward had no right to want to insist on her changing; he was the one who would have to change. With that wretched Renfield woman out of the way, he would stop being so tiresome.

The smile Beth gave him made Edward feel that it was well worth having scrambled into his evening clothes. He did not know that his answering smile made Beth’s heart sing.
Letty readily ceded her place to Edward, and Beth played another measure and declared it was time someone else took a turn.
“How are your sheep or lambs or sleep or lavender?” she asked.
“Was my writing that bad?” he looked contrite.
“Worse, I assure you,” laughed Beth. “I believe you were talking about deformed lambs with bent legs.”
“I was,” said Edward, soberly, and explained all about it.
“In which case, if it works for sheep, as it might, then perhaps you should be looking to give country holidays to foundlings of the kind who made you think about it,” said Beth.
Edward brightened.
“Indeed, or even perhaps set up a foundling asylum in the country specifically for children with rickets, and then I may employ old soldiers to teach them skills, and women who wish to turn aside from crime too, and kill two birds with one stone!”
“I think that is an excellent idea, Edward!” said Beth. “And now the war is over, perhaps we might experiment with taking a few children to warmer climes to see whether or not it might work!”
“And even if it don’t, it ought to make them feel better for not being hurting in this dreadful cold,” said Edward. “I took two wounded soldiers I had encountered with me to Suffolk, and they told me the frost makes wounds hurt cruelly. One was a farm hand before he was wounded, and knows how to build hazelwood hurdles, so I have set him doing that, and the other can cook, which will help in the kitchen, which is stretched when feeding all the hands. Naturally his cooking is a bit basic, but the shepherds and swineherds and other hands won’t mind that he can’t manage any fancy sauces or haut cuisine.”
“No, indeed, and they would probably rather that he did not,” said Beth.
“You are probably correct,” said Edward. “As someone else is about to play, will you dance a measure with me?”
“I should like it of all things, dear Edward,” said Beth.
“Dear Edward? I like that,” said Edward. “Oh Beth, I have missed you! And I only hope that you can feel some regard for me after I made such a cake of myself over that little fool Amelia!”
“Hush, someone will hear you being censorious of the poor thing,” said Beth. “She is most terribly spoilt, poor girl, and cannot help not having had the advantages of being made to learn how to do anything much.”
“I was saved from making a terrible mistake,” said Edward. “How could I think I was in love? I was a cawker!”
“I believe a lot of young men make cawkers of themselves over beauties,” said Beth.
“You are not jealous?”
“How could I be jealous? I am the gainer from her making you lose your temper.”
Edward blushed.
“I did not behave well,” he admitted. “But oh Beth! I am come to love you!”
“Oh Edward, I have loved you since I first met you,” said Beth.
“And you watched me make an idiot of myself without trying to stop me, and attract me to you instead?” said Edward.
“Edward, it never occurred to me that you would ever look at me as an eligible female – especially when you were heir to a barony too – when I was a poor relation, with nondescript hair and a poor figure,” said Beth.
“What’s wrong with your figure? It looks quite perfect to me,” said Edward.
Beth laughed.
“Now I know you love me truly, my dear; because I am short-waisted and rather overly well endowed above, with nothing much to speak of below, rather like a man o’ war in full sail.”
“Well, I rather like watching ships sailing too,” said Edward. “Oh, I know that a large fundament is fashionable… I can’t say that, can I? you are giggling at me.”
“There are worse words to call it,” said Beth, “and at least you are not being a total farmer to refer to it as a rump, but actually it is not a part of the anatomy generally mentioned at all.”
“The clothes are designed to show it off though, especially in a stiff breeze,” said Edward.
“There is a difference between what is displayed and what is mentioned,” said Beth, “not that it troubles me. I have no doubt we shall have earthier conversations over the breeding of animals.”
“True,” said Edward, brightening. “And our own children.”
“Sir! You cannot want me merely as a brood mare!” said Beth with mock severity.
“I don’t. I want children, but if it don’t happen, I have a heap of aunts with brats for the wretched title to pass to, and we shall have our foundlings to keep us occupied,” said Edward.
“You are a good man, Edward,” said Beth, softly.

Amelia was not pleased to see that Beth had abandoned the piano to dance the impromptu measures for which Elizabeth was now playing the accompaniment. At least Beth would be out of the way soon, even if she might end up being a marchioness. That would be hard to swallow. But then, a poor little dab of a thing like Beth would never be able to stand up to a terrible man like Finchbury, as she, Amelia, had stood up to him. Amelia’s recollection of the encounter, which had left her feeling bruised, was becoming rapidly tinged with the roseate hue of time, that permitted her to see her actions as brave and uncompromising, ordering the wicked rake to do her bidding. People always did what she wanted, after all. And Edward would be no exception when he realised that it was inevitable.
Only another couple of days. Amelia managed to smile at Beth and Edward as they finished the measure, and politeness dictated that Edward should ask her to dance.
“I am sure that dear Beth is such a comfort to you about your sheep,” said Amelia.
“Beth enters into my interests regarding my stock,” said Edward, stiffly.
“Yes, one would not think her to be so clever, from looking at her,” said Amelia, with a tinkling laugh.
“Why not? Beth has intelligent eyes, you can see that she thinks deeply,” said Edward.
Amelia fought not to grind her pearly teeth. He had totally missed the innuendo!
“Why, yes, indeed, and as one discovers, quite clever enough to entrap a man in the throes of disappointment into promising, marriage; she must have guessed that Tiffany Pelham would play your uncle false. And you put such a good face on it, dear Edward!” said Amelia. “But I wager if a higher title came along, Beth would soon be after it, for all that she looks like a sheep chewing on the cud.”
“Sheep don’t chew on the cud, and how you can think pretty Beth looks like a sheep, I do not know,” said Edward. “It is cows who chew on the cud, since they are ruminants, and have several stomachs. The digestion is incomplete without the regurgitation of the partially digested cud to be re-chewed and….”
“Edward! That is not a fit subject for the ears of a lady!” said Amelia, almost gagging.
“Oh, sorry, of course, you are less capable of dealing with country matters than Beth,” said Edward, hiding a chuckle that Beth would chide him for using a misquote from Shakespeare with rather improper overtones. “You seemed interested enough to have brought up the subject of cud-chewing. For your information, I am not trapped into anything. I wish you will realise that I have no intention of marrying you, and I am not about to change my mind.”
“Well, I shall be here when you have been let down by her,” said Amelia.
“I shan’t be,” said Edward.
Amelia permitted herself a small, knowing smile. It had worked out all for the best that Finchbury was a marquis, because it would look as though Beth had abandoned a putative heir to a barony for a certain marquis. Because Adam Brandon might yet remarry.
When she was married to Edward, Amelia decided that she would just have to make sure Adam Brandon never remarried. One might easily find ways to scotch a budding romance. And as he had fallen in love so hard, it was said, with Tiffany, after having mourned his wife for many years, he was unlikely to be so trusting again. It would all work out very nicely.


Evelyn, Lord Finchbury, was making his own plans. The mail might manage London to Bristol in nineteen hours, but that was with a huge infrastructure of changes of horses and such. With the roll of soft the Hazelgrove girl had given him, it made sense to hire six good horses and a postillion as well as his own coachman to drive, but travel more than eight hours in one stretch, Finchbury refused to do. With six horses they might make it to Marlborough overnight, and there they might rest, and then drive on, avoiding Bath like the plague, and heading north of Bath and Bristol for Gloucester, and thence into Wales. Having once got out of London, the pace might be taken more slowly, as the likelihood was that Brandon would go haring off on the Great North Road. Finchbury intended sending his man ahead to arrange another team of horses at Marlborough, which would mean a quick change would be possible if necessary. He hoped, however, that the girl would be ready for a bit of a tumble by then, once fortified by coffee and breakfast. He could work on her in the coach, inuring her to the inevitable and wooing her. And it was another reason not to take too hurried a pace, because it would merely give any woman the megrims. Maybe heading for Marlborough was too ambitious. It was not as though he seriously feared pursuit. Newbury was some six hours away, perhaps less with a good team of six horses pushed to their limit, and a safer distance than Reading, more comfortably situated at perhaps four hours distant. Well, at that, if his man had a change of horses ready at Reading, he and the wench might afford to rest for a couple of hours and then press on, past Marlborough, and then take a more leisurely trip to Wales. If he could bed her, she’d be willing to put up with the discomfort, and if she was missish, well, a turn of high speed would dampen her spirits and make her more grateful for proffered kindnesses in return for a kiss or two. And Finchbury was confident enough of his skills in kissing that once a girl was kissed she was ready to do anything for him. He chuckled nastily. He could have easily had the Hazelgrove girl; he had repelled her and attracted her in equal measure. Once kissed and pleasured she would have been his to command. But then, he did not like brunettes, and he did not like scheming hussies. The Renfield girl was not precisely blonde, but she was more akin to the type of girl he preferred, and being quite plain she should be pleased to attract a man of the world like himself. And if he did decide to marry her, he would treat her kindly. Finchbury was very well pleased with himself.



Chapter 21

The day of the ball at Arvendish House arrived, and Beth dressed with care, just for Edward. She also laid out a heavy cashmere shawl, woollen spencer, and heavy cloak, both for travelling to the ball, and waiting to see Cressida off, helping her with her bandboxes. Molly was sworn to secrecy and would help Cressida’s own maid bring Cressida’s band boxes where they were to be secreted under the seat of the Stonhouse family carriage. This had necessitated some negotiations with the Stonhouse coachman too, but so long as he had not got to do anything to actively help, the man was willing to give tacit support. Cressida was cold and unbending with others of her own kind, but was a much loved mistress, who saw the needs of her servants and addressed them to the best of her ability. Molly would be wearing Beth’s second best cloak, which as Beth also said would mean that she was less likely to be questioned if moving around someone else’s coach.
“I hope Lady Cressida will be very happy!” said Molly, “Ooh it is romantic!”
“It is,” agreed Beth, reflecting that at least Cressida had a practical head on her shoulders as well as a sense of romance, and had been quite ready to live on a small income for her beloved Mr Chetwode. That Mr Chetwode was also very wealthy was to Cressida merely a bonus, not one of the reasons to wed him.
Beth greeted Cressida warmly when she saw her at the ball.
“How are you feeling?” Beth asked.
“A bit numb,” said Cressida. “Scared. Excited. Happy. Worried. Mostly excited, I think. StClair has been a Trojan; he caught me smuggling bandboxes down, and helped. He likes Brook; and Brook has promised to pay for him to do university, which StClair wants of all things. Even if it is more to get away from home than for the study, I fear!”
“Oh, I expect young men need to find themselves one way or another,” said Beth. “StClair will doubtless settle down to work if he respects Mr Chetwode’s kindness.”
Cressida brightened.
“Yes, he will. He’s not a bad boy, just a bit wild, but then what do you expect at sixteen? He feels it very deeply that our parents expect him to marry an heiress as his duty to the family, and he doesn’t like it above half. So he kicks over the traces a bit.”
“University will give him the chance to cut larks without being under your parents’ eyes,” said Beth, “and get it all out of his system. I’m glad you had a chance to talk to him, I had a feeling something was worrying you about this elopement, and it was your brother, wasn’t it?”
Cressida nodded.
“Indeed,” she said. “I did worry how he would take it, but he has given me his blessing and promised to break it to out parents, not only that I have gone, but that Brook is a very Croesus. I can’t help wanting to giggle at the thought that I’m running away with a man my parents would almost force me upon if only they knew of the extent of his wealth, especially as he has no hint of shop about him. His family are as clever with speculation as with music! He says the Stock Exchange is as nice and regular as a Bach Cantata, which I cannot see myself but I am glad that he can.”
“The Stock Exchange makes my head ache,” confessed Beth, “Though I do try to follow and understand it.”
“I suppose I shall have to make an effort to do so,” said Cressida. “How nice it is to know people like you and Elizabeth who are willing to admit to learning things for sheer interest! I am no bluestocking like Elizabeth, but at least I am no prattling ninny. Why are you laughing, Beth?”
“The haughty Lady Cressida is the last person anyone in the world could accuse of being ‘prattling’, ninny or otherwise,” said Beth.
“It’s a way of keeping people at arm’s length,” said Cressida. “I don’t stammer like Elizabeth, but I do find people intimidating. I think that being drawn into the coterie of you girls by Brook is the best thing that ever happened to me, and when we are wed, I will do what I can for poor cousin Madelaine, to rescue her from her horrid mama. And have Abigail’s next brother to stay, along with StClair, and hope they will be friends but not drag each other into too much mischief.”
“You are kind, Cressida,” said Beth.
“I have much kindness to pay back,” said Cressida, simply. “You accepted me, without shying away and whispering behind your hands about me being stuck up.”
Beth linked arms with her and gave her arm a friendly squeeze. Mr Chetwode was engaged to Cressida for the supper dance, and was to slip away two dances earlier, to ready his carriage, and Beth and Molly, Cressida and her maid, would transfer Cressida’s band-boxes from her coach to his, and bid her farewell in time to go back in for the supper dance with Edward. And since Cressida and Brook Chetwode were supposed to be dancing and dining together, there would be no outraged partners looking for them; Cressida had been careful to leave her dance card vacant after supper, pencilling in some spurious names in scrawling handwriting. Aspirants to her hand for a dance would, perhaps, have been outraged had they been able to read that she planned to dance with J.S. Bach, Henry Purcell, George F. Handel and John Gay.
So far as Cressida was concerned it was barely a lie, since she anticipated living with these composers and more for the rest of her life.
Amelia was quite as wildly excited as Cressida, in arranging her own future marriage; that satisfying her own desires meant degradation and misery for another girl did not really enter her head, or only in a superficial way with the thought that it was only what such an encroaching creature as Beth Renfield deserved. Somehow she had to persuade Beth to go outside before the end of the ball, but if necessary she could ask Beth to come out with her as she felt faint, and view the illuminations left up for the ball. Amelia was sure she could get gullible Beth outside for Finchbury. She had to separate her somehow from that icicle of a woman, Lady Cressida first, a female who looked at Amelia as if she knew about the family fortune coming from beer. If Amelia had but known it, this was Cressida’s normal expression to people outside of her new group of friends, with which she guarded herself, but Amelia did harbour enough insecurities about the origins of her fortune to take it personally. Elizabeth, more nearly connected to trade than she, never saw that expression directed at her, for Cressida appreciated Elizabeth’s frank friendliness and indifference to the difference between them in social rank. Had Elizabeth attempted to toad-eat at all, Cressida would have frozen her out, but such never occurred to Elizabeth. Amelia, on the other hand, had been sufficiently impressed by an earl’s daughter that her manner to Cressida had put Cressida’s back up from the first time they had met.
Amelia was meanwhile giving quite abstracted answers to her many admirers, for trying to keep an eye on Beth, and wondering how to prize her away from Cressida that she quite opened the eyes of one love-struck swain, by saying “oh yes, quite so, I agree,” when the unfortunate Honourable Mr Thomas Hawkesbury had stammered that he had a poem for her, even though it was not very good at all. The youthful poet was cut to the quick by such a slight, and stalked off, to brood in what he hoped was a Byronesque manner. Mr Hawkesbury would have given his eye teeth to resemble in any particular the hero of The Corsair, who was as much a household name as Byron himself since it had been published in February. However, nature had cursed Mr Hawkesbury with a slight frame and pale, wispy hair, and eyebrows so blonde as to appear non-existent. However, he did have aspirations of poetry, when perhaps his own epic heroes might be spoken of in the same breath as Byron’s Conrad, and perhaps add their lustre to his rather overlooked frame. Mr Hawkesbury was under no illusions about his own physical charms for the ladies, but he did fancy, self-deprecation aside, that his poetry was both good, and witty, and to have his self-deprecation agreed with by a beautiful, but undeniably hen-witted girl was a blow to his ego, and his infatuation, that may have left him a wiser man, if no better as a poet.
Amelia was not to discover the defection of this swain until later, when she was to wonder who had dared steal one of her court, being entirely unaware of her own foolishness. However in the meantime, the ‘fair cruel one’ showed her court that she had weightier things on her mind than their adulation, until such time as the dance before the supper dance.
Suddenly Amelia was aware that both Cressida and Beth had left their accustomed place, near to Elizabeth, Abigail and Madelaine, and appeared to be moving towards the vestibule.
Amelia lost another swain, whose shy devotion was too devastated to ever consider approaching her again, when his Goddess of Beauty got up and almost ran out of the ballroom as he approached her to collect her for the dance. It would not have improved his blighted ego to have been told that Amelia had not even noticed him. Amelia almost screamed with frustration when her hostess stopped her and asked if she felt quite well, as she seemed flustered, and Amelia had to invent a sudden spurious faintness and a need to visit the ladies’ dressing room. Which she did, in case the other girls were there, but to no avail.
The operation to go outside had been accomplished with speed. The maids were already dressed for outside, and had their mistresses’ spencers, cloaks and other accoutrements ready for them. They had left the dressing room, and indeed the hous, before Amelia caught up with them. Wrapped up warmly the two young women and their maids slipped outside to cool their faces, as Beth said gaily to the footman. He goggled slightly, but shrugged; they really did want to cool their faces, not use it as an euphemism.
“The lights are so pretty,” added Beth. “I did not have a chance to look at them properly on the way in. You will let us back in again presently?” she slipped the young man a vail.
The footman’s face cleared and he nodded comprehension. Some of these poor young ladies were positively chivvied by their mamas, almost as much as if they were prime dells with Haymarket ware, he thought in his own idiom. Ay, and bargains struck with no more sentiment than such common streetwalkers sold by their bawds. Let the poor things have a few minutes freedom!
The one that followed them had a sly look to her face, and Tom the footman had no intention of telling her where those nice-looking ladies had gone, when she asked. He pocketed the shilling vail though.
“Why miss!” he said. “The Jericho is out through there, for them as wish to cool their faces.”
It was not a lie. There was a convenient office where he indicated, as well as the jordans provided for the ladies in their dressing room. The look of blank confusion on this other lady’s face was right funny. Thought she’d caught them out at something no doubt, and planned on tattling to whichever harridans had the keeping of them. Tom watched her go out of the back door, hoping, no doubt, he thought, to catch them at some illicit dalliance. Well, if they were meeting anyone on the sly, good luck to them! He thought.

Amelia’s search outside showed her where the earth closet was; and she ran back indoors again as she discovered that this was where the men cooled their faces, and any female approaching those waiting to use it might be subject to a few ribald remarks. She could not see either naïve Beth nor frosty Cressida coming this way! When she returned, Tom had prudently made himself least in sight, and another footman was on duty. Well, they must have gone out the front, thought Amelia, and hoped that Finchbury was sufficiently up to snuff to keep his side of the bargain.

Outside, the four young women rapidly removed the band boxes from Cressida’s carriage, ably assisted by Mr Chetwode, who had fettled his team with promptitude. Cressida kissed Beth on the cheek.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Godspeed, and good luck,” said Beth, kissing her back. “Invite me to the christening.”
“I shall,” said Cressida, blushing.
Beth and Molly watched the carriage as it went down the road.
“Oh Miss Beth, I do hopes they don’t go off the road in the dark!” said Molly.
“Mr Chetwode is very capable,” said Beth. “The illuminations are pretty, are they not? I like the transparency of the Prince of Wales’ feathers, it is delicately painted.
“It is pretty,” said Molly, critically, “but if you ask me, men didn’t ought to wear feathers; they should leave it to the ladies.”
Beth laughed.
“Oh, it is but a heraldic device, such as knights of old had painted on shields, so people would know who they were inside their armour,” she said. “Our Princes of Wales have used it since the time of the famous Black Prince, who took it from the King of Bohemia.”
“Fancy!” said Molly, who had no idea who the Black Prince was, and less of the King of Bohemia.
They were standing in shadow, the better to see the lights, the contrast marked, when a carriage came clopping up beside them. It was unusual, having six horses and a postillion riding one of the leaders, so both Beth and Molly turned to stare. The door opened and a male voice asked,
“Miss Beth Renfield?”
“Who wants to know?” asked Molly, before Beth could say a thing.
“I do, Miss Renfield,” said Finchbury, for it was he! He was certain that this must be Miss Renfield, brought out by Amelia Hazelgrove. They were a little early, but then perhaps the Hazelgrove girl had bethought her of getting the girl well on the way before she would be missed at supper. And probably she had to take what chances she might, in any case. No matter! He lifted Molly bodily by the arms to pitch her into the carriage, and jumped in after her, slamming the door.

I vaguely remember reading a Sense and Sensibility AU where John Dashwood had a different wife. I think it may have even been Mrs. Jennings daughter, although I'm not sure of that. The main thing I remember is that this alternate Mrs. Dashwood encouraged him to be generous with his sisters and his step-mother. Does anyone know the story I'm looking for?

Chapter 15

Saturday January 23, 1813 – Pemberley
Richard Fitzwilliam alighted from his carriage to greet Georgiana and Darcy who had come out, despite the cold, to greet him. They hurried him inside and, after the usual greetings, he retired to his room to refresh himself and change his clothes. An hour later he joined them in the music room where Georgiana was practicing.

“I am glad you decided to break your journey at Pemberley, Richard. Where are you bound?” Darcy asked.

“London. I have some business with headquarters there. I thought I would take the opportunity to visit with you and Georgiana for a day or two. I have to depart on Monday.”

Darcy looked at his cousin carefully and wondered how much he was not saying. He knew that Fitzwilliam expected to be called back to duty. He would not press the matter now but later, yes. He raised an eyebrow at his cousin and replied, “We are pleased that you decided to do so.”

“We have someone else that we expect to break his journey with us today.” Georgiana mentioned. “Mr. Bingley is returning to York from London and we expect him later today.”

Fitzwilliam glanced at Darcy, “How is he coming along? I remember you telling me that he had grown up quite a bit in the past year.”

“He stopped here on his way to town about a fortnight ago. It is astonishing, the change in him. He has gone from boy to man almost overnight. He has become much more engaged in business activities with a consequent reduction in idleness and frivolity. I admit I am pleased to see it. I like the new Bingley very much.” Darcy replied.

Georgiana tentatively offered, “I had not seen Mr. Bingley for quite a while. The change is marked and I very much like what he has become.”

Fitzwilliam and Darcy exchanged glances and Fitzwilliam’s raised eyebrow was noted by Darcy who gave a slight nod to his cousin. “Obviously another topic for discussion with Darcy” thought Fitzwilliam.

The three cousins spent a relaxed hour before dinner discussing estate issues, tenant problems, spring planting plans and planned renovations to Pemberley. None of the topics were of pressing urgency and both Darcy and his cousin were content to let the conversation embrace such non-contentious issues. The avoidance of mention of military matters was by a mutual, unstated agreement between both men.

Bingley’s carriage rolled up to the front entrance of Pemberley just as they all sat down for dinner. Quickly rising from the table, Darcy and Georgiana hurried to greet Bingley as he was ushered into the front hall.

“Welcome Charles, I hope your journey was not too cold.”

“Thank you Darcy, I am afraid it was bitterly cold for the last hour or so. Greetings Miss Darcy, it is a pleasure to see you again so soon,”

After Bingley divested himself of outerwear, Darcy began to lead him toward the dining room, and said, “we are just starting dinner. Would you like to refresh yourself before eating? We can easily wait another quarter hour.”

Bingley immediately accepted and headed to his usual room. Before he had climbed too many stairs, Darcy mentioned that they had another guest his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam which delighted Bingley since he and the Colonel had always enjoyed each other’s company.

A scant quarter hour later, a refreshed but tired Bingley joined the Darcys and Fitzwilliam for dinner. It was a simple meal, held in the small family dining room. The talk was deliberately light-hearted, with Fitzwilliam delighting Georgiana with tales of the antics of his nieces and nephews while visiting at his parents’ home. He also passed on an announcement, “You will most likely get a letter from my sister, announcing that she is with child again. I think her confinement is in June.”

“Marvellous news, Richard. Marvellous news! I suppose your mother is making more noises about getting you married so that you can provide more grandchildren,” teased Darcy.

Fitzwilliam laughed, “I believe she mentioned the subject once or twice.”

Once the meal was finished they decided to settle in the music room as Georgiana offered to play some pieces that she was developing. The men sat quietly sipping port and relaxing to the music flowing from Georgiana’s fingers. After about an hour she stopped and excused herself, indicating a desire to retire to her rooms to read before sleep.

Darcy invited the others to the library where a fire was warming the room. He poured himself a brandy, sat in one of the chairs ringing the fireplace, and invited the other two men to help themselves. Fitzwilliam also took a brandy, but Darcy noted with interest that Bingley poured himself a whiskey.

“Whiskey, Bingley? That is new.”

“I have acquired a taste for it over the last few months. I am getting some excellent whiskey from Scotland now.”

"Dare I ask how your efforts in London went?” Noting Fitzwilliam’s questioning look, Darcy explained a bit further: ”Bingley has decided to move to York and sold his London house. He had to help relocate the Hursts and Caroline.”

“Actually, the Hursts acquired their own house with little help from me. I did pay part of the cost since Caroline will be living with them. I cannot say how long that arrangement will last. Caroline is still not reconciled to my departure. They live in a respectable neighbourhood. Not of the first tier as Caroline would wish for, but respectable. The Hursts appear content, at least.”

“Charles, I had thought I might visit you later this year. I have no fixed plans as yet but I would like to meet this remarkable uncle of yours. He seems to have done more for you in a couple of months than I did in years.” Darcy said.

Bingley thought for a minute or two and replied, “I would be delighted to have you visit. May or June would be the opportune times although, truthfully, it does not matter a great deal.” He thought a bit more and suggested, “There are a number of people that you might be interested in meeting. The investment opportunities in the north have much potential.”

“That sounds quite intriguing; I will consider my plans. Right now I have to deal with the spring planting in April and visit my aunt in Kent.”

Looking at Fitzwilliam, Darcy hesitated and then asked, “Richard, will you be accompanying me this year?”

Fitzwilliam grimaced and shook his head. “As I suspected, you have already guessed that I will be returning to active duty. I received word several days ago and told my family. I hardly need say that they want me to resign my commission and marry. The problem is simply that I have not found the woman, with the necessary dowry, that I would want to live with for the next forty years.”

He took another sip of his brandy and sighed, “I have seen too many unhappy or unsatisfied marriages to want to take that risk or burden.”

“When do you report?”

“Wellesley is in winter quarters in Portugal as we speak. My regiment will be sailing at the end of the month to join him. It will take me every minute there is between now and then to get the regiment ready.”

“Georgiana and I had planned to travel to London on Wednesday next. I am sure we could accompany you on Monday instead.”

Fitzwilliam thought and nodded his head. “That sounds like an excellent idea. I will return my father’s carriage and travel with you.”

“Richard, do you want to break the news to Georgiana or shall I? It is possible that she has guessed already.”

“”Let me do it. It won’t be any better coming from you than me but she deserves to hear it from me.”

“Fine, I suggest you tell her after church services tomorrow. I will let her know before breakfast of the change in travel plans.”

Bingley had sat quietly throughout this discussion, finally rising to his feet and stretching. “I am tired enough from the travel and the whiskey will help me sleep. I will refresh my glass and head up to my room now before I fall asleep in this chair.”

Darcy and Fitzwilliam bade him good-night and settled down in comfortable silence with their brandy. Darcy broke the silence, “Do you remember that comment Georgie made about Bingley during your arrival? Well it appears that they had an interesting conversation about a fortnight ago when Bingley stopped here on his way to London. The crux of the matter is that Bingley asked her to save him a dance set at her ‘coming out’ ball. Mrs. Annesley, who was present for the entire conversation, saw nothing improper between them but she also suspects that each became aware of the other as a possible suitor. She believes, and it is agreed, that there is nothing to alarm us since they will be in each other's company only rarely and that dance is over a year in the future. However, it seems I must consider Bingley’s suitability as a suitor.”

Fitzwilliam had sat up straight when Darcy mentioned ‘suitor’ but then a thoughtful expression crossed his face as he responded, “You know, he might be a very good suitor if he has grown as much as you believe. I don’t give much credence to concerns about ‘trade’ if the man is a gentleman. I like Bingley quite a bit.”

“I agree. I won’t discourage his suit should he decide to press it but Georgie will have at least one season before she chooses to marry. That should let her consider the men available.”

Fitzwilliam considered Darcy overtly and decided to probe an issue that they had not talked about for months. “Tell me Cousin, what are your plans or intentions with regard to Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

Darcy looked over at Fitzwilliam with a surprised look on his face. “Are you taking up mind-reading, Richard?”

He smiled and continued, “This has been much on my mind recently. I have determined to visit Hertfordshire and call on her. I have several engagements and business in town that I must take care of first, but I am determined to call. I cannot go on in this state of uncertainty. I must know, once and for all, if there is a chance I can win her.”

“I am glad to hear that, Cousin. I think she is too sensible a woman to still bear you a grudge, but I do think you must be completely honest with her. And for heaven’s sake, think before you speak. If your first thoughts are for her well-being, I do not see how she can refuse you.”

“Let’s to bed, Cousin, I have a lot to do tomorrow, if we are to leave two days early.”


 
Chapter 16

Sunday, January 24, 1813 - Pemberley

Darcy was up early as was his habit and immediately sent a note to Georgiana’s maid advising her of the change in plans and the need to begin packing for the trip to London. His own manservant, Hawkins, had been advised the previous night of the change in plans, Darcy had a number of letters to write and meetings with his steward before he could depart and he did not expect to have much free time today. Meetings that had been scheduled for Monday and Tuesday would now have to be completed this afternoon. He also had to ensure that the carriage was checked and travel arrangements changed at the two stops along the route.

Realizing that his work had reduced the time available to get ready for church services, a small breakfast was brought to his room for him to eat while getting ready. As a result, he was waiting in the front hall for the others to arrive. Once they reached the chapel, Darcy and Fitzwilliam unobtrusively ensured that Georgiana and Bingley did not sit together.

After lunch, Georgiana went to the music room to work on several pieces that she was practicing. Colonel Fitzwilliam had gone to the library after lunch but, upon hearing the sound of the piano, went in search of Georgiana. Finding her, he was quite contented to sit unobserved while she practiced. Finally, after a particularly good effort on one of the more difficult pieces, he applauded her heartily which quite caught Georgiana by surprise.

Fitzwilliam knew it would not get any easier if he waited to impart the news that he was going to Portugal but wanted to do so as gently as possible. Rising to his feet, he said, “Georgie, do you realize that I have not visited the conservatory for several years? I would like to see it again. Will you accompany me?”

Georgiana was agreeable and arm-in-arm they strolled to and into the conservatory. Fitzwilliam maintained a steady flow of light conversation as they walked. When they arrived at a spot with benches for sitting, he sat down and invited Georgiana to sit beside him. He took her hand and spoke in a very matter-of-fact voice, “Georgie, I am sure you have a suspicion of my news but I wanted to tell you myself. Headquarters has given me my orders and I am taking my regiment to join Wellesley in Portugal. I leave at the end of the month. I know that you, along with the rest of my family, do not wish for me to go but I am bound by honour and duty to serve my country. I can make no promises about my safety but I value my life and the lives of the men I lead. I risk neither their lives nor mine unnecessarily.”

Fitzwilliam could see her distress, “What troubles you so, Georgie? You know I have seen active duty before and always returned, I will do so again. I plan to dance at your wedding and I insist right now you save the third set for me. I will allow your new husband the right to the first set and won’t deprive your brother of the second, but the third is mine. Understood?”

Giving her a quick hug, he teased some more, “Now, if I am to be a proper guardian, I need to know your wishes in terms of a husband. Who and what should we look for in your husband? Short? Fat? Scottish with a brogue you could cut with a knife? Old? You really must help your brother and me to sort through all the candidates and let us know your preferences.”

“Richard, I don’t want to even think about marriage right now.” Georgiana replied trying to stifle a giggle, “And certainly not about a short, fat, old Scotsman.” And she gave a delicate shudder.

“Nonsense, my girl. All young ladies think about potential husbands. Come, come …confess it now, what does he look like? Tall, perhaps? Dark hair? A bit of a fop? An Earl, at the very least?”

Georgiana giggled, “No, No ….. Well, perhaps tall, anyway.”

“You need to help me a little more, Georgie. You have only eliminated two out of three men in England. That still leaves me with a very, very large crowd. If he must have a title, that can reduce the numbers quite a bit. There cannot be that many men with a title, can there?” The last was uttered rather plaintively by Fitzwilliam.

Georgiana hesitated slightly. She found this teasing to be slightly uncomfortable and decided to hedge her answer, “A title would be nice I suppose, but hardly necessary.” She paused and then, more seriously, responded, “I think I want a good man. With such examples as you and my brother, I could hardly settle for less, now could I?”

“Ah….you are not playing fair, Georgie. Be careful what you wish for. You could get my visage and your brother’s manners.”

“Oh, my brother’s manners are not so bad.” Georgiana replied attempting to control a smile.

Fitzwilliam laughed, “Minx!”

They both fell silent for several minutes and then Fitzwilliam looked at Georgiana, “I may not be home in time for your first ball but if I am, I want the second set. Promise?”

“I promise! It is yours!”

Fitzwilliam went over to her and gave her a hug, saying “I will write as often as I can but the post service is rather poor when people are fighting. I hope you will write to me often. I will be in London for about three weeks before I depart. I expect to be very busy but will make an effort to see you several times before I leave.”

They both started at the sound of a cough and turned to see Bingley standing on the pathway.

“I hope I am not intruding?”

“Not at all, "responded Fitzwilliam. “I was just getting Georgie to tell me what she wants in a suitor when she is of age to have such. So far we have only determined that she does not want a short, fat, old Scotsman with a heavy brogue.”

“Does anyone want such a man?” chuckled Bingley as he sat down. He had been standing on the path for several minutes watching and considering Georgiana before making his presence known. He was more and more impressed with her. He knew she was obviously still too young to consider marriage and he himself was not ready either; but he could see no reason not to cultivate her acquaintance as a friend and thus keep himself in her attention.

“Miss Darcy, I have been living in York for several months now and have yet to hear your equal on the pianoforte. Could you oblige me with a little music?”

“I would be happy to do so.” Saying which, Georgiana led the way back to the music room and began playing some lively Scottish and English ballads. After playing for an hour, she excused herself claiming a desire to rest. The two gentlemen continued to talk in a desultory manner until Bingley suggested a game of billiards, which claimed their attention until it was time to prepare for dinner.

Dinner itself was a quiet affair, as was the remainder of the evening, which most spent reading and completing their preparations to depart at first light in the morning.


Sunday January 24, 1813 – Gracechurch Street, London

Jane was trying to remember the last time she had been as content – happy perhaps – as she did at this moment. Captain Stovall had been courting her officially for a fortnight and she had been in his presence almost every day that he was not in Portsmouth. Oddly enough, while some of that time his attention was directed to the Gardiner children or to the Gardiners themselves, that had not lessened the pleasure she took in his company. She could not remember now if she ever had talked with Mr. Bingley as she talked with Amos – for she was beginning to think of him as Amos now. They had talked about his years at sea, her time in Hertfordshire and some of their hopes for the future. She was getting to know the man and she approved of him very much. His comfortable play with the children – and he had become a favourite with them – bode well for a future in which they had children. Her mind came to a lurching stop – they had children. Was she…had she already arrived at a decision, should he offer marriage? She blushed and looked quickly at his face as he walked beside her. Yes! Should he ask, she would be very happy to accept.

Captain Stovall was equally contented with one small niggling concern. He believed strongly that the woman on his arm was one he would delight to call his wife. She had a good heart, a kind heart, a loving heart and a strong, sensible approach to life. But he must know if some part of that heart still belonged to another man. He was determined to speak and this seemed as good a time as any.

“Miss Bennet! I am going to ask what most people would consider a very improper question. You see, the first evening I dined with you and your family, Mr. Gardiner and I had a short discussion over port after the meal. His sole concern was for your well-being and he intimated that your affections had been engaged by the particular attentions of a gentleman who then left without making an offer, which caused you considerable distress. Mr. Gardiner considered the gentleman’s behaviour somewhat dishonourable and wanted to prevent a reoccurrence. I was most willing to provide such assurances. My question is simply this, Miss Bennet – Is your heart unattached?”

Jane’s feet simply stopped working as she came to a complete stop and looked up at him in some amazement. By stopping, she had forced Captain Stovall to partially turn and face her. She continued to gaze at him for a few more seconds and then, reaching a decision, forced them both to resume walking.

“Captain Stovall, you promised me honesty, when you offered a courtship. I find myself unable to be anything less. The gentleman, Mr. Bingley – I see no reason to hide his name, since you will likely learn it should you meet my mother – was quite handsome and amiable. He most assuredly engaged my affections and I certainly believed myself to be falling in love with him. Then he left, promising to return but did not. I was hurt - hurt and very confused - for months. I learned that he had been convinced by friends and relatives to leave because of my poor connections, some impropriety of my mother and younger sisters, a lack of dowry and a belief that I was only interested in him because of his wealth. My hurt and pain gradually turned to anger. Anger that he knew me so poorly as to believe such of me. Now…..even the anger is gone. If I were to meet Mr. Bingley tomorrow, it would be as an acquaintance…..no more. The only person in Longbourn to now regret his departure is my mother and her lamentations do nothing more than cause me irritation.”

Jane turned her face to look directly at the Captain, raised an eyebrow and smiled, “So Captain, if I have not answered your actual question, I have, I think, been honest in answering the implied question, have I not?”

He stopped turned to face her and taking her hands in his bestowed a kiss on each, saying, “Yes, Miss Bennet, you most certainly have.” Then turning to walk once again, he settled her hand on his arm, placed his other hand over hers and intertwined their fingers. “She did not say her heart was unattached, only that it was not attached to this Bingley. Excellent!”

In this fashion, they continued to stroll through the park until recalled by Elizabeth’s reminder that dinner was approaching. Elizabeth was quite amused by Jane’s absorption in the Captain and the pleasure expressed on her countenance. She was convinced that removal from her mother’s profusions and manipulation had allowed Jane to display her feelings more openly since she no longer had cause to guard the expression of those feelings.

She thought back to the past two weeks during which they had gone to the play Twelfth Night, walked in Hyde Park and attended a dinner party; society enough to satisfy even her desire for company. A grin crossed her face when she considered the night they went to see the play. While she had chosen to wear a relatively modest evening gown, Jane had selected one that was rather more daring. It was deep blue with simple, classic lines and a v-neck which displayed the upper portion of her breasts. She looked absolutely stunning which described the look on the Captain’s face when Jane descended the stairs in the Gardiner house. He hardly took his eyes off her on the ride to the theatre and, once there, was the first to exit the carriage. Turning, he offered his hand to help Elizabeth descend and then offered his hand to Jane who, grasping his hand with her own stepped out of the carriage bending forward slightly as she did so. The Captain’s intake of air was quite noticeable and a blush spread over both his and Jane’s countenance. Only Elizabeth noticed the small smile of pleasure on Jane’s lips.

After Mr. Gardiner assisted his wife out of the carriage, the party moved slowly through the crowd. After divesting themselves of their outerwear, they moved into the intermission area. Jane quickly attracted surreptitious and admiring glances from many of the men. Captain Stovall did not appear to mind at all, satisfied to be the man escorting her to the play. Several couples known to the Gardiners approached and were introduced but Mr. Gardiner and the Captain were persistent in moving their party forward and towards their seats.

Once seated, Elizabeth had enjoyed and attended the play so closely that she had little attention left for the rest of party. While it was not one of her preferred Shakespeare's histories, it was so well acted that she was lured in almost despite herself. Captain Stovall was completely enraptured, repeating several times that seeing the words come to life on a stage gave new meaning to them. He vowed that he would make every effort to see another play before his time onshore ended.

Returning home, they had partaken of a light tea after which Captain Stovall made ready to leave. Elizabeth and Jane accompanied him to the front door and, Elizabeth having deliberately stepped several paces back to give them some privacy, he turned and took Jane’s hand, saying, “I thought tomorrow I might visit a bookstore. Would you and Elizabeth wish to accompany me?” Upon receiving her agreement, he raised her hand and turned it, pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand causing a small gasp by Jane. A pleased smile graced his face as he murmured, “I will call at ten then, Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth had teased her sister quite thoroughly afterwards and was now only wondering when the good Captain would offer for Jane. Her sister’s affections were no longer in doubt. The pleasure she received from his attentions left little doubt Captain Stovall’s suit would be successful. The only issue lay in when he would make his offer.
 
Chapter 17

Thursday, January 28, 1813 – London

Darcy stepped down from his carriage in front of the Johnson home. It was a fairly modern, four story building somewhat smaller than his own house and located in one of the better sections of the city. His arrival must have been anticipated because the butler had the door open before he reached it. Recognizing Darcy immediately, he bowed and then motioned a footman to take Darcy’s hat and cloak saying, “Mr. and Mrs. Johnson are with the other guests in the drawing room, Mr. Darcy.” He led Darcy there and opened the doors, waiting for Darcy to pass through. Darcy paused in the doorway to assess the people within the room. With a quick scan, he recognized two couples, apart from the Johnsons, that were known to him.

He saw his presence was recognized as Mr. Johnson moved quickly towards him. “Mr. Darcy, welcome.” he said in a quiet voice. “As ever, we are pleased you could join us tonight.”

“How could I pass up the opportunity for fine food and fine conversation? I welcomed your invitation.”

“There are several people that I would particularly like to introduce to your acquaintance tonight, Mr. Darcy.”

“By all means, Mr. Johnson but I would like to greet my hostess first, if I may.”

“Certainly, sir. She is sitting over there.” Saying which Mr. Johnson led Darcy to Mrs. Johnson with whom he then chatted for several minutes. Seeing Mr. Johnson’s slight impatience, Darcy smiled and let himself be led away. For a quarter hour, Mr. Johnson guided him to several gentlemen and their wives, effecting introductions and their connection to Mr. Johnson.

Looking around Mr. Johnson said, “There is one more gentleman that I would most particularly like to make known to you. I have only become acquainted with him in the last six months or so. He has made it possible for me to expand my production by his access to markets in other countries. It has truly been fortuitous for me.” Saying this, he led Darcy towards a gentleman who was talking to several young ladies as well as a woman and a gentleman only a few years older than Darcy himself.

As they approached the group, the young ladies turned in response to a slight nod from the gentleman facing Darcy. His shock was total. He heard Johnson speaking but he could not understand the words. All he could see was her face. He wondered if his was as pale.

“Mr. Darcy, are you all right, sir?”

He grasped the remnants of his self control, essayed a small smile and replied, “Perfectly, sir. I was simply caught totally by surprise.” And, looking directly at Elizabeth, “A most pleasant surprise!”

Johnson was not sure what exactly had happened but obviously Mr. Darcy was known to at least one of the Gardiner party. He pressed on, “Mr. Darcy, may I make known to you Mr. Edward Gardiner, Mrs. Madeline Gardiner, Captain Stovall and Mr. Gardiner’s nieces, Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Ladies, gentlemen, allow me to introduce Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, who is from Derbyshire.”

Darcy bowed and spoke quickly, “I had the very great please of meeting the Miss Bennets in Hertfordshire while visiting a friend there. It is a pleasure to meet you both once again. Mr. Gardiner, Mrs Gardiner, I am pleased to make your acquaintance also. I seem to remember hearing Miss Elizabeth speak fondly of you both.”

Mr. Gardiner responded, since both of his nieces seemed to have lost the power of speech, “Elizabeth has spoken of you also, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow and, glanced at Elizabeth, before looking at Mr. Gardiner and replying “That was most equivocal, Sir. But I suspect she treated me most justly.”

He could feel Elizabeth searching his face. He turned to Jane and asked, “Miss Bennet, I trust your family are all well?”

"Yes, Mr. Darcy, my family in Hertfordshire are indeed all well.”

"How long have you been in London?”

“Our aunt and uncle visited us at Longbourn over Christmas and we returned with them a few days later.”

Darcy continued to become acquainted with the other members of the party and had just discovered that Mrs. Gardiner had ties to Derbyshire when conversation was cut short by the announcement that dinner was to be served and everyone began to move towards the dining room. Darcy had hopes of acquiring a seat close to Elizabeth and was only partially successful. Her place was on the other side of the table and offset by two other people. Fortunately, he could observe her and hear parts of her conversation. The uncertainty that had begun to plague him – that both his memories and love of Elizabeth were fading – was gone. He found that his admiration and longing were as strong now as they ever were, and possibly stronger. He wanted nothing more than to simply look and admire her.

"I must attend, I must behave in a civil manner with those around me.” It took a conscious effort to begin to talk with the people on either side of him. He hoped he was not appearing too distracted but he knew his eyes were constantly shifting to look at Elizabeth. Mrs. Gardiner had taken the seat next to him which provided him with the opportunity to talk with her about Derbyshire and gaze at Elizabeth, who was sitting almost directly across from her aunt, with, he hoped, discretion. Having spent many years prior to her marriage in Lambton Mrs. Gardiner knew Derbyshire well and had also toured Pemberley and its grounds several times. Through her conversation, she had quickly impressed him as a genteel, elegant and intelligent lady and it was obvious that she had been a positive influence on the two eldest Bennet sisters. Good manners required Darcy to pay some attention to the lady on his other side and, after several attempts to discover a topic of mutual interest, he was able to engage her in talk about her charitable work which attempted to provide some education to children in impoverished areas. He could not help but be impressed with her dedication and enthusiasm as she expounded on the various projects that were underway, and was not reluctant to promise financial support to her efforts.

Turning to talk again with Mrs. Gardiner, he saw Elizabeth gazing at him. He gave a small nod of his head and a slight smile and was gratified to have it returned. His attention was then captured by Mrs. Gardiner who had begun to talk with the gentleman sitting across from him – a Captain Stovall, who Darcy now remembered as part of the Gardiner party. From Mrs. Gardiner’s comments, Darcy realized he was a naval captain and asked, “Are you between commands, Captain?”

"No, Mr.Darcy. My ship is in sad shape and laid up being repaired. I probably will not get back into the war until the summer.”

“The navy has borne a huge portion of the war burden so far and we all owe you so much. I do think that our army will now be taking on a larger portion of the effort. My cousin and his regiment are shipping out soon to join Wellesley in Portugal.”

“I agree, if we are to defeat Napoleon, it will have to be on land and that is the job of the army. I wish your cousin well and hope he returns safely.”

"As do we all, Sir. As do we all."

Darcy turned to Mrs. Gardiner and asked, “Mrs. Gardiner, did you ever have occasion to meet my parents while you were in Lambton?”

“Yes sir. I remember meeting and speaking with your mother several times over the years. She was always a pleasure to meet and obviously concerned about the welfare of people in Lambton. I remember her visiting the one or two poor families in the town and providing them with food and clothing for the children. A truly kind lady.”

“I am most gratified to hear that, madam. I could wish that my younger sister could be here while you speak of her. She has few memories of our mother and is always eager to talk with anyone who knew her.”

“I should be pleased to share the few memories that I have, should the occasion arise, Mr. Darcy.”

Wishing to talk of less personal topics, they began discussing, by mutual. unstated agreement, the various events that Jane and Elizabeth had enjoyed while in London. Darcy did discover, to his satisfaction, that both sisters were expected to remain in town for several months.

Elizabeth was maintaining her composure with some difficulty. She had recovered from the shock of turning to come face-to-face with Mr. Darcy with no warning. She had felt almost like she would faint and then, when she was struggling to regain her mental balance, she had received a second shock. He had said meeting her again was a pleasant surprise. She had recognized that he had been as shocked as herself initially, but he seemed to regain his poise much quicker. His manner had changed. She could tell that he was obviously still quite reserved but he was civil, extraordinarily so to her, and that civility had extended to everyone. He was talking with everyone around him and, if his reserve was intact, he was obviously making an effort to be amiable. And he had smiled at her and his self-deprecating comment to her uncle showed a certain willingness to admit errors on his part. And he smiled at her again at the table!! Did he still feel some affection for her? But, did it matter? Lydia had effectively ruined whatever hopes she could entertain with regard to Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth knew she was not behaving as was her usual wont in company. Her thoughts were too engaged and chaotic for that. She looked up at Mr. Darcy once again and noticed her aunt watching her with what looked to be a very speculative eye. Elizabeth suspected that her aunt would very likely want to talk seriously about Mr. Darcy. How much should she confide?

Before Elizabeth realized it, the ladies were rising from the table to go to the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to their port and cigars. Elizabeth was approached by the hostess and asked to perform. This was not unexpected, although tonight it might be a little more difficult to remain composed. She could hope he did not sit where she could observe him while performing and discompose her. Given her feelings now, her composure would suffer much more than it had at Rosings Park when he last attended her performance. She was surprised at such thoughts. She had thought little of Mr. Darcy in recent months. She knew now she was not insensible to his attractions, nor to the fact that he had admired her greatly. Of her feelings, she was uncertain but admiration for Mr. Darcy seemed probable.

Darcy had risen to stretch his legs and was handed an excellent port. He saw Mr. Gardiner watching him from across the room, his face carefully bland. This seemed like an excellent opportunity to begin to ‘illustrate a character’ as Elizabeth had once attempted to do with him. In this case, he wanted to sketch that of Mr. Gardiner. He casually walked over and introduced himself once again, “Mr. Gardiner, I believe we were introduced but had little opportunity to converse.”

“True, Mr. Darcy. Unfortunately, we were also too separated at the table to make conversation possible.”

“I did have the opportunity to talk with your wife, sir. She obviously finds Derbyshire as beautiful as I do. It was an interesting conversation. Do you often visit the area?”

“We had planned to do so last summer but we had to cancel our plans at the last minute. Perhaps in a few years. We have no plans to travel this year or next.”

"Mr. Gardiner, our good host was most interested in having us meet. I suspect he believes that we might have some mutual interests in business. Might I call on you to discuss such possibilities?”

“Certainly, Mr. Darcy. My place of business is on _____ Street, just off Gracechurch Street.”

After arranging for a convenient time to meet, they talked amiably until their attention was captured by others. After about a half hour, their host suggested they rejoin the ladies. Darcy, upon entering the drawing room, immediately looked for Elizabeth and, seeing her by the pianoforte looking through the sheet music, approached and offered to turn the pages if she were to play. He could see her blush, hesitate and then nod her acceptance. He then leaned towards her and whispered, “I cannot read music. You will have to nod your head, or kick me, to let me know when to turn a page.”

“Is the choice mine, sir?” she whispered back. “Is he teasing me?”

“Indeed it is.”

“I will be kind then and nod, sir.”

Whereupon she sat, did a few exercises to loosen her fingers and began to play. Darcy sat beside her and when she nodded, turned a page. Watching her face was a pleasure but it took considerable self-control to not become absorbed in watching her expressions. He was not always successful and Elizabeth, on several occasions, had to repeat sections until he had gathered his wits. For her part, Elizabeth knew she was not playing as well as she usually did. She was extremely conscious of the man sitting beside her. His cologne, and a very male presence, caused her thoughts to scatter. Eventually, it was over and she received the appreciation of the other guests. She did hear Darcy say, “As always, your playing affords me considerable pleasure, Miss Elizabeth.”

A quiet, “Thank you, Mr. Darcy” was all she could manage. “He had said that before. I thought he was being sarcastic. Another misjudgement on my part?” She walked over to the hostess to get a cup of tea. Darcy did likewise and seeking an opportunity to talk with her privately, gestured towards a settee somewhat removed from everyone. “May we speak for a moment, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked.

She moved to the settee, and sat. She could see her aunt and Jane watching them both. “It will be an interesting night when I get home,” she thought.

Darcy sat down beside her and turning to face her, murmured, “I apologize. I suspect I am causing some concern on the part of your aunt and uncle.”

“I will have some explaining to do later tonight, I believe.”

“Miss Elizabeth, I cannot tell how very happy I am to meet you again. I would like an opportunity to talk with you in some privacy or as much as propriety will allow. This is not the time or place for such. May I call on you tomorrow morning?”

Elizabeth’s confusion had not abated a great deal. Of what would he want to talk? Was there any purpose given the Lydia situation, but she could hardly refuse on that basis since he could not be aware of it.

Darcy viewed her obvious indecision with increasing concern and blurted, “I am sorry. My request is obviously distressing you. You need not …” And he began to rise from the settee.

Elizabeth spoke immediately, “No! Wait, please. I would be happy to receive you tomorrow morning. I…I was simply surprised by your request. I am sure I do not deserve such consideration.”

Darcy shook his head, “Quite the contrary, Miss Elizabeth. You merit every consideration. Now, may I enquire as to your address?”

Elizabeth gave him the Gardiners’ Gracechurch Street address, looking at Darcy to see if the location bothered him but could observe no aversion on his part. Noticing her aunt approaching, Darcy stood up and offered her his seat which she accepted. Darcy offered to refill their tea, an offer graciously declined by both ladies, after which he left, ostensibly to refill his own cup, and moved to talk with others. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully for all. Upon returning home, Darcy retired to his room with a glass of brandy and a conviction that Elizabeth’s opinion of him had changed materially. Tomorrow would be difficult but he had to convince her to allow him to show that he had taken her reproofs to heart. He could hope once more.

Elizabeth’s evening, however, was not over when she arrived home. She had informed them all, during the drive home, that Mr. Darcy had asked to call tomorrow morning. Her aunt and uncle were surprised, but not unduly so, given what they observed of the behaviour of Mr. Darcy. Madeline Gardiner decided she needed a private talk with her niece before either of them slept.

As she was heading up to her room, Elizabeth was detained by her aunt. “Lizzy, we must talk. I will be up in a half hour.” There was no suggestion that the talk could or would be deferred. Elizabeth nodded and went upstairs to don her nightgown and robe. Jane wanted to talk over the evening also but Elizabeth indicated that her aunt was going to want an explanation of tonight’s events and did not seem willing to wait. Then Elizabeth sat and waited, attempting to organize her thoughts.

When her aunt entered the room, she carried a tray with biscuits and tea. Pouring a cup for them both, she passed one to Elizabeth, offered her a biscuit and sat with her back resting against the footboard of the bed. Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow, “Is this going to be that tiring, Aunt?”

“That depends on you, Lizzy. I cannot force your confidence, but I do think that there is some important information about Mr. Darcy and yourself that your uncle and I need to know.” She paused and then continued, “I know that you are used to keeping your own counsel, but this time I think you need to trust us to help you.”

“It was plain to your uncle and me, and I dare say Jane as well, that Mr. Darcy admires you a great deal. This seems to contradict the opinions you expressed a year ago when you stated he disliked you. And then, there is your behaviour. Where once you were quite adamant in your dislike, I saw evidence tonight of quite different feelings. There is much that you have not told us, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth stared at her hands, sighed and then moved to sit, resting against the headboard. “As usual, Aunt, you have grasped the essentials. I think I will have to tell the story from its beginnings, despite how badly I have behaved. Jane, by the way, knows everything.” She then talked for almost an hour, uninterrupted by anything more than the occasional “Lizzy, you did not!” or “Oh dear!” Or “He said what?” from her aunt. Elizabeth ended by retrieving the letter that Darcy had written and handed it to her aunt who read it thoroughly, twice.

Madeline Gardiner quietly considered her niece, “So many mistakes, errors of judgement, mistaken pride. I don’t suppose any couple could have done worse, if they deliberately tried to do so. If it were not for Lydia, I would think, from what I observed tonight, that a strong attachment could exist between you. Because of Lydia, I cannot see how such an attachment is possible. Mr. Darcy would face considerable censure and disapprobation, if he attached himself to you. Would he be prepared to face that consequence? I do not know. I do think you have an obligation to hear what he has to say tomorrow and I will ensure you both some privacy. Should he want to continue to see you, he will have to be told about Lydia. Do you want to do so? Or shall I? Your uncle performed the service for Jane and I would suggest either I, or your uncle, do likewise for you. “

Elizabeth considered the problem for several minutes. “It is quite likely that I will be too discomposed by our conversation to be truly coherent. Nonetheless, I think it best that I speak of Lydia.”

“Very well, I will enlighten your uncle tonight about the particulars of your relationship with Mr. Darcy. And Lizzy, do not worry and fret. It will serve no purpose. “

“Thank you, Aunt.” replied Elizabeth knowing that, no matter her wishes, her mind would not be easy. Before tonight, she had, for the most part, reconciled herself to the loss of a Mr. Darcy that she previously had not wanted. Now, with the possibility of his interest in her, she would lose him once more and the anguish would be greater since she now understood how estimable his character was.

 
Chapter 18

Friday, January 29, 1813 – Gracechurch Street, London

At precisely ten in the morning, Darcy presented his card requesting to see Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He was shown into the drawing room where Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner awaited him. He bowed to each and was acknowledged by a curtsy. Mrs. Gardiner spoke first, “Mr. Darcy, Lizzy has informed her uncle and me that you have requested a private interview. I am sure you appreciate the unusual nature of such a request, inasmuch as we are not aware of any attachment between you both. However, because of rather unique circumstances that seem to exist, and Lizzy has told us much of the history between you, we are prepared to allow you to meet in our parlour directly across the hall. The door will remain open, as will the door of this room, and I will remain here. Is that satisfactory, sir?”

“Indeed, Mrs. Gardiner. Quite satisfactory and thank you.”

Mrs. Gardiner then led the way into the parlour and seated them both. Satisfied that a proper distance separated her niece and Mr. Darcy, she returned to the drawing room.

In the parlour, each considered the other, wondering who was to start. Elizabeth believed that since Mr. Darcy had requested the interview, the responsibility for initiating the discussion rested upon him. Nevertheless, she did desperately want to apologize for her mistakes, her anger and her abuse of him. Darcy, for his part, wished to apologize but feared his tongue would betray him once again.

“Miss Bennet, I …”

“Mr Darcy, please allow …”

They looked at each other and Darcy’s small smile elicited a shake of the head from Elizabeth. A slight gesture of her hand, motioned him to proceed.

“Thank you Miss Elizabeth. I asked for this interview for a number of reasons, the first of which is to ask for your forgiveness for my behaviour to you throughout almost all of our acquaintance.”

Elizabeth could not allow this to stand unopposed. “Sir, I behaved most poorly towards you and particularly during my stay in Kent. I cannot …”

“Miss Elizabeth! Please do not upset yourself so.” responded Darcy whose feelings would not allow him to remain seated. He was up and moving towards the window before he realized he was no longer sitting. He immediately stopped himself and turned to face Elizabeth. “I apologize for such abrupt behaviour. I could not sit!”

“Miss Elizabeth, my conduct towards you, your family and even your neighbours merits the strongest reproofs. You accused me of pride, arrogance and a selfish disdain for others. I was angry, very angry at your words. It took weeks for my anger to cool enough to realize the truth of your reproof. It took some time more, before I could even recognize how grievously I had insulted you, both in the manner of my proposal and its content. I stand here ashamed of the man who made that offer of marriage to you that evening. All that I realised then was that I was not worthy of your hand in marriage.”

Elizabeth could not move her eyes from his face. That he could make such an admission seemed to her to be incredible. That it was honest, she believed she could read from his expression. She must interrupt.

“Mr. Darcy, please. I owe you an apology as well. My behaviour that night deserves much censure also. I abused you in the most abominable manner. I, who prided myself on my ability to discern people’s character, allowed my judgement to be prejudiced by an errant comment of yours on very first acquaintance. I was angered by that comment and allowed it, unconsciously, to prejudice me against your character in all of our subsequent dealings. I never would have believed Mr. Wickham’s lies, nor would I have been so insensible as to your regard, if I had not been so determined to dislike you. It took me considerable time also to understand my folly and misjudgement of your character. “

“Miss Elizabeth, I owe you a most particular apology. I can now see that at our very first acquaintance, you overheard something I said to Mr. Bingley. It was not only offensive and incorrect; it was wrong of me to utter such words in public. A most ungentlemanly thing to do. My reason, that Mr. Bingley was plaguing me badly on the occasion, does not excuse my behaviour.”

“It was wrong indeed, sir, and I fear it coloured my attitude towards you for months. For that I fear you paid a heavy price.”

“Did my letter help you to better understand my character?”

“Truly it did......and I appreciate the concern and consideration which led you to write it. It was a most gentlemanly thing to have done.”

"I was very angry when I wrote it. I can only hope that it did not disturb you too much. I know I wrote such as to cause pain, though that was not my intent.”

"It was an angry letter, to be sure, at the beginning. Its conclusion was most charitable and, if parts did pain me, I eventually could recognize the truth and honesty they contained.”

“Miss Elizabeth, I beg you not to be too harsh with yourself about Mr. Wickham. He is a practiced deceiver and you had not the experience or knowledge to recognize his character. My cousin, the Colonel, was most upset to learn that Wickham was in your area and was quite harsh with me about my failure to protect you and your neighbours from him. He believed I had an obligation to make known his misdeeds. I cannot fault his concerns. I should have done something.”

Elizabeth paled at this reference to Wickham and was tempted to confess his wickedness towards Lydia. She repressed it since she saw no useful purpose. She simply answered, “Mr. Darcy, shall we concede that both our behaviours were not above reproach. I know I have learned much from the experience and, I believe, you have done likewise.”

“Miss Elizabeth, I will not argue with you as to who bears the greatest fault. I feel that you have much less cause to reproach yourself than I.”

“Come, come, sir. Let us put this behind us. If we continue in this manner, we will be unable to discuss those other matters you mentioned.”

“Very well. Miss Elizabeth,” replied Darcy. He thought for a moment, “it seemed to me last night that Captain Stovall was quite attentive to your sister.”

“Yes, in fact he is courting her.”

“She seems happier than I can remember ever seeing her.”

“I think she is. She has told me that her heart has fully mended. “

“I am very glad to hear that.” Darcy debated whether to reveal his discussion with Bingley but decided that if he was to be truthful, he must do so. “Miss Elizabeth, last summer after my anger had abated, and I could consider your words more carefully, I realized that the opinion of a sister with intimate knowledge of Miss Bennet’s affection was almost assuredly more accurate than mine could hope to be. I decided to confront Bingley with this knowledge and that of my interference. I did so when Bingley was visiting Pemberley last August. His response, I admit quite surprised me. You see….”

As Darcy described his meeting with Bingley and the latter’s subsequent actions, he was watching Elizabeth’s face, trying to understand her feelings and thoughts about his confession but he could not decipher them. If anything, she looked surprised. When he had finished, she appeared lost in thought and then, shaking her head, she looked at him with a rueful smile. “Jane and I had quite come to the opinion that Mr. Bingley was sadly lacking in this whole affair. In fact, Jane became quite angry with him – and, Mr. Darcy she read your letter after finding it by accident and knows of your involvement. She does not hold you to blame. I do believe that her anger mended her heart quite thoroughly. She is, indeed, much happier now and I would think Captain Stovall could make her very happy indeed.”

“I am very glad to hear it.”

“Therefore Mr. Darcy, I am quite prepared to overlook, indeed forgive, your officious interference in the matter of my sister and Mr. Bingley.” This was said with a smile that Darcy could not possibly misinterpret and robbed the words of any attempt to cause pain.

“Thank you Miss Elizabeth. I believe that I should apologize to your sister as well.”

“Perhaps, although I do not see that much would be accomplished by doing so.”

“My honour, I think, requires it. But, that is for later. Miss Elizabeth, there is one more matter I wish to discuss and it is really the reason I am here today. If I had not met you last night, I fully intended to travel to Hertfordshire to call on you. I told you the simple truth last night. I had but to see you again and I found myself as much, if not more, in love with you than ever. My feelings are unchanged. I think your opinion of me has changed and I hope that you think better of me now than when I first proposed. I also came to understand that neither of us really knows the other. That was largely my fault stemming from a desire to hide my interest while in Hertfordshire. I would like to get to understand you better and to have you better understand me. Will you allow me to continue to call on you?”

Elizabeth trembled. The tension that had permeated their meeting seemed to peak. “Breathe!” She thought and took a deep breath. She looked Darcy and saw his face pale as she did not respond immediately. “He is expecting me to refuse!” She thought and immediately raised her hand to forestall his words. “Mr. Darcy, there is something you need to know before I can give you an answer.” She looked at Darcy and then, unable to face him directly, focused her gaze on the window behind him. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and her voice, and continued, “Simply put, Mr. Darcy. My youngest sister, Lydia, eloped last summer with George Wickham. My father and uncle traced them as far as London but have not recovered her, nor have we heard from her since. My family has been shunned by its neighbours, to the extent that Jane and I have taken residence with my aunt and uncle since Christmas. It is, in every way, too horrible and painful to contemplate.”

Darcy was stunned by the magnitude of the disaster facing him and Elizabeth. He could see the pain in her eyes as she rose and, with an obvious effort at self control, spoke, “Mr. Darcy I will quite understand should you wish to reconsider any interest you might harbour. Your family should not, could not be expected to bear the taint…”

“Please, Elizabeth, do not say such.” He interrupted. It is doubtful whether either of them was sensible of his breach of propriety. He tried to gather his thoughts. Wickham again! He needed to think. Elizabeth could only see his countenance. It seemed frozen and hard; a frown suggested his disapproval, disdain. Finally, words seemed to be wrenched from him. “Miss Elizabeth, please sit. I need to collect my thoughts which are all confusion at the moment. I know not what words to offer you for comfort and would not wish to burden you with my hopes for a better resolution that would seem to require your thanks. I must depart now but would like to call on you Monday next. I am to Portsmouth today to see off my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, whom you met at Rosings Park. He and his regiment are to sail tomorrow to join Wellesley in Portugal."

Elizabeth remembered the amiable Colonel and, gathering her composure, much shaken by his indication of a further call, answered, "I would be pleased to see you again Mr. Darcy. Please extend my wishes to Colonel Fitzwilliam for a safe voyage and that he return to his family alive and well."

Darcy assured her he would pass her message to the Colonel, after which he took his leave. Once he was out of the door, Elizabeth collapsed on her chair. Mrs. Gardiner entered the room and perceiving Elizabeth's distress, instructed a maid to bring tea and some biscuits. While awaiting the refreshments, she directed the conversation to a discussion of her children’s antics so as to dissipate the tension. Finally, tea was delivered, the door closed and privacy ensured. She then turned to Elizabeth and asked, “I am here now, Lizzy. What is the matter?”

“Aunt, Mr. Darcy has asked me to be allowed to call on Monday.”

“Do I assume that you both have resolved the many issues between you?”

Elizabeth was thoughtful before replying, ”I do not know if we have resolved all the issues, but I think we have made a start. Before I told him about Lydia, he expressed a desire for us to come to know each other much better,” Elizabeth looked at her aunt in some confusion. “Then I told him about Lydia and expected him to express his regrets and depart as soon as possible. Instead, he asked to call on Monday. I do not understand him at all. His features seemed hard, disdainful when I related the news but he asked to call. But he did not reject me. I do not understand.”

Her aunt looked at her and replied, “I think there is much more to that young man than you give him credit for, Lizzy. Could it be that he was thinking about Wickham's role? You must appreciate his feelings toward him. Now I must apprise your uncle of these circumstances. I am sure he will want to be here when Mr. Darcy calls on Monday. It was all I could do to get him to go to his office this morning. He was quite interested in your young man.”

“He is not my young man, Aunt!”

“I beg to differ, Lizzy. If he was not, he would have made polite excuses and you would never see him again.” With this, Mrs. Gardiner left to arrange lunch and send a note to her husband.

~~

Darcy returned to his house and began the process of discovering Lydia. He had determined on doing so during his ride home. Lord ______ was chairman of the organization which collected and disbursed funds to homes that assisted young women left destitute, unwed mothers and other distressed, unprotected young women. Darcy and his father had contributed to the organization for years. He should be able to get a list of the homes to which funds had been supplied. He had no idea how many such places existed, but, with the address and the name of the director of each, he would canvas them all, though it could take some time. A note to Lord _____ was quickly drafted and given to a footman to deliver.

That task completed, he considered calling on Mrs. Younge, but it was now too late for that. He would call on her tomorrow. For now, he would have to consider how he could be in Elizabeth’s company other than calling on the Gardiners.

His mind then turned to how he would conduct the search. Secrecy was necessary. No one could know for whom he was searching nor, if he found her, could Lydia’s presence be known. He would have to secrete her here at Darcy House. As his thoughts continued along these lines, they gradually became focused on Elizabeth. His desire, his need for her, was unabated. Lydia must be recovered, else it might be a year or more before he could pursue her and would she be willing to wait after he had treated her so abominably?

---

Thanks to Alida for her great Beta work.

Frederick's American Café

Chapter 9

Croft helped Harville and Frederick to their feet as the square erupted into pandemonium. “Come quickly now,” the Englishman hurried them. "We need to get out of here."


Croft pulled them back into the Nazi office and bolted the door. Even those few yards were a battle as the native population, having decided now to rise up, viewed every white face as a target. Frederick found himself attacked by men who, if they did not call themselves his friends, had at least never had reason to think of him as an enemy before.


Once locked inside, the three quickly realized they were still in danger. Natives beat upon the door and it was only a matter of time before someone broke a window or set the building ablaze.


"We need to get back to the hotel," said Harville as they moved to the back of the building. "Marie will be worried about me."


The employees and guests of The American could no doubt use their figurehead at a time like this. Charlie knew how to defuse bar fights and Mrs. Harville was not a woman to lose her head. They would have locked and barricaded the doors by now, and rounded up everyone to a safe place like the pantry. Nonetheless, they would appreciate Frederick and Harville being there.


"How did you even get out of your cell?" Croft asked, suddenly realizing the discontinuity.


"Mrs. Wilkes gave me the keys," supplied Harville.


The Englishman looked like he was going to have a medical fit. "Impossible! That woman won't be happy until we're all in German crosshairs!"


Harville stuttered a question. He had too much to live for to feel incurious.


"Before noonday, half the people rioting outside will be shot dead by German soldiers, but that won't be the end of it," answered Croft. "They'll interrogate the survivors and if they find out you got the keys from a known spy, you'll be lucky to live long enough to be shipped off to one of their camps. No, Mrs. Wilkes never gave you the keys; you never saw her today."


Harville gaped for a moment, trying to take it all in. "But nobody said anything about her being a spy. It's Mr. Elliot that Mr. Hemmert suspected."


"I think, given the situation, prudence dictates we assume they are all involved." Frederick thought, given what he had just seen in the square, that Croft knew far more than he was ever willing to admit. And it was probably a good idea not to press him for details.


Harville looked at Frederick for leadership  "Boss, what do we do?"


Frederick found he had no voice, or at least no inclination to speak.


After a moment, Croft spoke instead. "Did anyone actually see her give you the keys?"


Harville thought back with a shake of his head. "No. Just her sister and Miss Lulu."


"Then it just might work" muttered the Englishman. "No one saw anything. She never gave you the keys. You found them sitting on the desk when you came to deliver Wentworth's breakfast. And you let him out after the shooting started."


Harville nodded in agreement, committing the story to memory, leaving it for Frederick to point out the flaw.


"But that won't work," he said. "Too many people saw me outside when the gun went off."


Croft glared at him for being so unhelpful, but Harville's fretting was painful to watch. Frederick took pity on him. "Let's tell them that Hemmert left his keys on his desk and I talked you into letting me out. The rest of Croft's story fits the way it is."


Harville's relief was palpable, lasting as long as it took to notice the shouts and other sounds coming from outside. The story was not good enough to bring them back from the dead if the native throng got hold of them.


"Let us split up," suggested Croft as Harville opened a back window and checked the alley. "Harville, you go to the right. Wentworth and I shall go to the left. Stick to the alleys and avoid everyone. If the mob intercepts one of us, perhaps the other will still get through."


It was a good plan and Harville put it into execution as quickly as he could. Croft tried to exit through the window but it was difficult for the Englishman to hoist himself up and through the opening, even with Frederick's assistance. After a few failed attempts, he stopped.


"Wentworth, I must speak with you," he said, panting slightly.    

 

"Not now, Croft!" Frederick had already heard the sound of glass breaking and the noise of the rioters was louder, less muffled.


"No, Wentworth. Now!" The older man was adamant. "I know what you're thinking. It's written all over your face. She's not there."


"I don't know what you're talking about." His voice was almost gritty with denial. Frederick didn't want to think of what was waiting for him back at The American. Whether Anne was barely alive or recently dead when he reached her didn't change the outcome.


"Mrs. Wilkes, man!" Croft had not been deceived about his regard, not from the very beginning.


Frederick could have continued to dissemble but Croft saw through him. Besides, it hardly mattered anymore. "You saw her get shot," Frederick pointed out. "Even if the other three escaped the riot, they'd be fools to take her with them. She'd only slow them down and be dead before the hour is up."


"That wasn't Mrs. Wilkes," said Croft as if it pained him to be so open. "That was Miss Lulu. The women had arranged it amongst themselves that Lulu Argile would swap places with Anne Wilkes. It was an incredibly foolish and risky plan, but Miss Elliot had already brought Lulu into her confidence. It's only blind chance that Hemmert was such a bad shot."


Frederick's jaw dropped open. Lulu had warned him in her fashion last night, and Anne had said that she wanted to return to Avamposto Calce one day. Had she known then what was going to happen?


He immediately cast that question aside. There were more important things to know. "Where is Anne?" If she was alive and unharmed, it changed everything.


"First, realize I'm only telling you this to keep you from betraying yourself back at the hotel. Once Hemmert's reinforcements arrive and start imposing order, it's going to be every man for himself. If you show up at the hotel ready to embarrass yourself, someone is going to notice, and they're going to drop the wrong words in the wrong ears."


"Where is she?" He needed to find her, at once.


Croft glared in exasperation. "I am not telling you these things so you can insist upon some long, drawn out goodbye until you both end up in German custody. I am telling you this so that you will not make the sort of scene that encourages Nazis to ask nosy questions that will get more people in trouble than just yourself. There are more lives at stake than just your own."


The two men were ready to stare it out, but a commotion in the front room distracted them and drew their attention back to the more immediate peril. There would be nothing to fear from being sent to a German prison camp if they were already murdered by the mob. Despite his earlier difficulty, Croft scampered through the window before Frederick had a chance to help him.


Frederick swiftly followed through the opening, then stood in the alley watching Croft run away. If Frederick continued to follow him, Croft would absolutely ensure that he didn't see Anne one last time. Likewise, once he made it back to The American, the needs of his guests and employees would prevent him from going out again in search of her.


He took off down the alley, running away from Croft, trying to figure out where he ought to go. His responsibility to The American required him to return to it and to protect his employees and guests. The Harvilles, Charlie, and the rest of the staff depended on him, whether it made sense for them to do so or not. On the other hand, Anne didn’t need him now; if she was depending on him in any way, it was to stay out of trouble and they had already said their goodbyes two nights ago. But he couldn’t shake the image he had seen in the square of Anne getting shot. Hearing Croft tell him that it had been Lulu in disguise had solaced him, but now he was beginning to doubt. Croft was full of surprises today; was he trustworthy?


The Elliots and Wilkes were obviously at the airstrip or at least headed way, which was in the exact opposite direction of the hotel. The riot would slow them down but he got the feeling that all four had been in tight spots before and would've planned or improvised accordingly. He needed to think faster than he ran, and to figure out where he wanted to be before he had to choose his path.


Fate dealt him a good hand. As he approached the last intersection that would determine his direction, he heard an engine approach. He stopped and waited, hiding until he knew if it was a friend or foe. The vehicle came into view: it was the truck used by The American to transport weekly supplies from the airstrip, but it was not being driven by one of Frederick's employees. Russell Elliot had stolen it and, along with the rest of his group, was making his escape.


Frederick instinctively called out a greeting and stepped into view. When Anne recognized him, she leapt out of the cab while it was still moving and ran to him. Russell had little choice but to slam on the brake and wait for her.


“Freddy, you’re unharmed,” she told him as she hugged him fiercely.


“And you’re still alive,” he answered in relief, content to let her crush him just as long as she was well. To feel her alive and unhurt was indescribable. His throat tightened.


She stepped back, enough to look him in the eye. “I’m so very sorry about what happened to Miss Lulu,” she began, speaking quickly. “It wasn’t meant to happen like that. She never should have gone out the front door.”


"I understand," he said. “Croft explained a bit to me. I’m just glad it wasn’t you.”


“Come on, Anne.” Her sister had left the truck by now and interrupted the scene. “We have a plane to catch. We need to get out of here while we still can.”


Anne looked at the idling truck, then back at Frederick, clearly struggling with the decision of what to do now. If Croft was right, and now Frederick was inclined to believe him, Anne had tried to stay here. Lulu’s death ruined that plan but she appeared unwilling to abandon it.


Had Hemmert lived past the morning, still he could not have lived long with Anne remaining behind. It would have been too dangerous for her, impossible for her to evade detection indefinitely. Even if she could hide from the Nazi contingent come to collect her, Hemmert would recognize her when she appeared in public again be she ever so clever and her appearance so elastic. No, to stay was to court detection and death. And while Anne might be willing to shorten her life considerably for the sake of being near him, it was simply not worth it to Frederick who was yet recovering from the sight of seeing her fall in front of his hotel.


He saw the indecision and reluctance dance across her features, but as much as it broke his heart, he knew she couldn’t stay. “Go and get on the plane, Anne,” he said quietly.


"What?" She turned to him in shock.


"I want you to live, Annie. Go. Get on the plane."


She looked at him as her eyes filled with tears. To find him again, to be forced to give him up one more time and in the middle of such danger, was more than she could bear. “I don’t think I can lose you again.”


“You’re not. This is just temporary,” he assured her. He couldn’t expect her to return after this. Travelling again would be too dangerous for her. No. If they were to be reunited, Frederick would be the one to move mountains. “When things calm down, I’ll come for you but only if I can find you. Go back to England. Go home to Kellynch and be safe. Would you do that for me? Would you stay out of harm’s way until I can find you again?”


“Would I!” was all her answer, but the accent was decisive enough.


Frederick gave her one last kiss. It would need to last them throughout their separation of months or years, and together they made the most of it.


“Anne, now!” shouted her sister finally. “We have to go now! Get back in the truck before I shoot you myself!” Elizabeth tugged at her arm to pull her back to the vehicle where the men were waiting with increasing anxiety.


The women bundled themselves into the cab, which set into motion again even before the door was shut.


That was it. She was gone.


He stood bereft and unmoving in the alley, counting off seconds then minutes in his head, imagining the truck as it travelled the narrow and rutted road to the waiting plane. They would need to tread carefully to avoid the Germans looking for them, but Frederick had overheard Russell quizzing Charlie on how to drive that stretch, and now understood why.


Once at the hangar, they'd have to disable any guard the Germans left behind, which wouldn't be more than two men, and secure the plane and possibly the pilot. Anne had not told him where they were going, but they couldn't fly back to Marrakech or even Tripoli. Morocco, Algeria, Tunis and even Libya were too hot right now. If they could reach past the battlefront now deep in Egypt, they could find a safe passage back to England if their paperwork was in order and they had enough cash.


He stood there until the sound of automatic machine gun fire in the square spurred him into action. He raced the remaining distance to The American’s back entrance and pounded on the door until Charlie let him in.


Everyone else was cowering in the pantry, huddled and hushed as angry roars of gunfire occasionally broke out. Seeing him calmed the staff, which rippled through the few guests, although the relief was short lived before the next round of shots were fired. They stayed in there for an hour after it grew silent. Then Frederick went out to survey the damage and subjugate himself as necessary to the Germans.

---

When the foursome had found themselves on the wrong side of the battle line, it had been Russell’s original plan to regroup at Avamposto Calce where England had placed another agent long ago, someone they could call upon for aid should the situation warrant it, and to leave as discreetly as possible. That formula, however, proved untenable when Hemmert convinced Benny to break into Guillaume Wilkes’ hotel room and steal his passport and any papers that might be incriminating. Benny had his own idea and decided to steal from the sisters instead; their room had more trinkets worth stealing and besides, Benny couldn’t read. Anne’s passport had not been enough in and of itself to prove anything, but the dates and locations, along with the surname “Elliot,” had allowed the German authorities to piece together the prize waiting for them in the Tunisian backwater. From that point on, they had to draft a new plan and they had far more experience at this game, and recognized they had far more at stake, than Herr Hemmert.


Russell Elliot had secretly cut the telegraph line from Hemmert’s office the night before their escape, and they had destroyed the other device at the hangar before they took off, leaving the area incommunicado until the lines could be restored. Once the foursome flew out on the plane, there was no way for anyone remaining in Avamposto Calce to contact other German forces except by following the rail line to the next station and sending word from there of what had happened. By then, it was too late. They had successfully fled.


The area remained under strict control for weeks in retaliation. Between Hemmert’s murder and the escape of four allied spies, the Nazis showed no leniency in dealing with the residents of the outpost. A large number of rioters had been shot on sight. Between the mob’s initial violence and the Nazis’ countering response, no business was left whole. Windows were broken, doors battered in, signs ripped down, merchandise absconded, employees and customers killed.


No one could come or go without a thorough search and seizure. Frederick was questioned, roughly and repeatedly starting on the second day, but he betrayed nothing. Even Harville kept mum despite his treatment. Never having seen Frederick directly give aid to Anne and the others, and having witnessed some of Frederick’s more negative reactions to the spies, his testimony could not prove anything damning. The Germans released them both after a week or so, and they spent another week recuperating under the care of Mrs. Harville before returning to their desks. Even at their lowest point, they were grateful to have avoided the camps, so that was something.


Business at The American was effectively ruined. With almost nothing and no one allowed into the area, there was no alcohol at the bar, and there were no guests in the rooms beyond some senior German officers who were exempt from paying their bills. With Lulu dead, the small band was not half as entertaining. The quality of the kitchen slowly declined as the stores of rare ingredients withered away. Wednesday night card games were also ended, perhaps permanently.


The natives were more cowed now than ever in the wake of their uprising. Those who could, left. Even Charlie packed his bags in anticipation of being allowed to leave. The Crofts planned to stay but they were seldom seen; Mr. Croft has been spotted near the fountain shortly before Hemmert was shot and, as a result, had been questioned as well. He had endured much.


Throughout it all, Frederick took comfort in the fact that it was neither better nor worse than it was. Had Anne and the others been captured, he could imagine the Germans would have relaxed considerably, unless one of them had revealed that Frederick had helped them in some way. In that case, he’d be dead already.


Slowly, the Germans began to pull out of the area, reducing their presence until it was only a handful of troops.


Then came the news of the fall of Bizerte. Frederick felt for all the lives lost in the African campaign, but it meant that the end was closer than ever before.  And if he could live to see that, certainly he could live to see Anne again.


~ The End ~

A/N: I had this written for a few weeks and intended to include their conversation and the end of the story. I realized today that I had written quite a lot and that I could save their conversation and the conclusion for Chapter 30. I hope to have the conclusion posted in the beginning of January as I have the next week off of work. Thanks so much for reading and being patient with my slow progress! Previous chapters can be found with a quick internet search. They are not archived here due to copyright concerns. Happy New Year!

Pride and Logic 29

Spock picked up his pace, elongating his strides as he made his circuit around the grounds of N'Hir'set. The morning sun was still chasing away the chill of the night that hung in the dry desert air. While it was still cold by most Vulcan's standards, Spock found the early morning climate invigorating. Even during the peak of summer, early morning runs were too cold to be comfortable, the shock of frigid air to his lungs serving both to chase away the last vestiges of sleep and stiffen his muscles.

The sentimental human part of him treasured his morning runs. Spock breathed deeply and evenly as he ran. He admired how the sunrise bathed the red sands in bronze while calculating the distance between N'Hir'set and the sun taking into account the time of the year, Vulcan's orbit around its sun, and N'Hir'set's distance from the equator. He felt the press of his bare toes in the warming sand as his strides rolled heel to toe. Spock mused how some of the tiny grains that shifted under his feet might have once been part of nearby Mt. Tarhana that rose high above the landscape. He busied his mind with calculations of the amount of time and velocity of the wind necessary for such erosion.

Spock found that his time on Vulcan had been oddly restoring. However, he was ready to return to Earth, to resume his duties with Starfleet. One of the many messages that awaited him after his sojourn at Gol was an invitation from Captain Pike to serve as his chief science officer and first officer aboard the Wangari Maathai on a six month research expedition to the Laurentian system. After a brief time of deliberation and adjusting his teaching schedule at the Academy, Spock accepted the assignment. Immersing himself in research and the relative quiet of space would be a welcome respite that would also offer valuable opportunities for advancement. He ignored the small part of his conscious that questioned if logic was his true reason for accepting the assignment and not an irrational need to escape. It would be substantially easier to avoid the emotional disquiet brought on by encounters with Cadet Uhura were they separated by an entire star system. However, kolinahr and lightyears of distance had already proven inadequate to rid his mind of thoughts of her. Would an entire star system truly prove to be more effective?

As Spock made his return trip to the house, he saw his mother's pool and garden coming into view, her red flitter parked outside. His mother took advantage of the relatively cool mornings to swim and attend to her plants. Spock slowed his pace and approached the enclosure. A few laps in the pool would be a more than suitable end to his morning exercises. He also desired the opportunity to spend time with his mother outside of his father's influence. Sarek rarely came to the pool and gardens finding the humidity disagreeable and wishing to provide his wife with a private space of her own.

A week had passed since Spock's return from Gol. He had not discussed his reasoning for attempting kolinahr nor his failure, despite his mother's gentle questioning and probing through their familial bond. Although Spock knew that his mother supported him in his decision, he could still sense her underlying hurt at his choice to purge all emotion. He understood that his mother's pain was not from a mistaken belief that he wished to reject his humanity and, by extension, herself. Rather, she grieved the severance of the bridge emotion provided between them. Her relief at his failure, although she tried to shield him from it, was palpable.

Spock entered the enclosure and called for his mother through the bond. He found her bent over a bed of black-eyed Susans. The delicate Terran flowers could only survive in the controlled environment of the water gardens.

"Good morning, Spock," Lady Amanda greeted as she stood upright, brushing the dirt from her hands onto her khaki shorts. She pushed the brim of her large sun hat off of her forehead. "How was your run?"

"Most agreeable," Spock replied before looking past her to the flowers she had been attending. "These are a recent addition to your garden."

Amanda looked behind her and smiled. "Yes. I planted them while you were away." She paused and glanced quickly at her son. "Nyota mentioned that they were her favorite flower. I thought they would make a pleasant addition. They are sun loving plants, so I thought they'd do well here."

Spock knelt and carefully ran one finger over the yellow petals of the flower. The flower was rather unassuming, thin yellow petals surrounding a small black head suspended on a long green stem.  He thought of Nyota and was pleased that the thought of her did not stir up any undue emotions.

"They are rather simple yet elegant," Spock replied. "It is understandable why Ms. Uhura would regard them with appreciation."

"Yes. I can see that," Amanda replied as she resumed tending her plants, carefully cutting off fading blossoms. "She's not easily impressed by status or position. Nyota is hardy and a bit wild under her elegant exterior."

Amanda paused in her cutting, her garden shears held at the base of one browning flower. "Lady T'Pau certainly found out that Nyota was not to be intimidated." Amanda quickly cut off the blossom, stowed the shears into her work belt, and straightened to face him once more.

Spock cocked his head slightly as he regarded his mother who nearly vibrated with excitement. He prodded their familial bond and sensed her hesitancy to continue underneath her overwhelming desire to disclose the information she guarded.

"There is something you wish to share with me, mother. However, you have been sworn to keep someone's confidence. I will return to the house so as not to tempt you."

Spock was hit with a wave of exasperation as he turned to leave the garden. Just as he reached the door, his exit was halted by his mother's undignified shout.

"Lady T'Pau visited Nyota at Starfleet Academy to warn her away from you but Nyota told her to sit on it!"

Spock turned towards his mother before replying in his driest tone. "It is highly unlikely that Cadet Uhura told Lady T'Pau to 'sit on it.'"

Amanda rolled her eyes.  "Of course Nyota would never say something so coarse to your aunt. I am sure that she put it much more elegantly."

"Mother," Spock began.

"Sarek asked me not to tell you about Lady T'Pau's visit. You had already left for Gol and he was so sure that your aunt's worries were unfounded. But, here you are and I think you deserve to know."

Amanda bid Spock follow her to a bench that overlooked the pool. He sat beside her dutifully, waiting for her to begin her explanation.

"You had been gone to Gol for sometime when Lady T'Pau visited. It was most irregular. Normally your aunt announces her intention to visit well in advance of her arrival. But, one night she just showed up at our door after the evening meal. She had her guards and a small group of attendants, of course. She demanded to speak with Sarek in private about his son. But Sarek insisted that anything she wished to discuss about his son could be said in front of his bondmate.

"Lady T'Pau then demanded that Sarek forbid you from proposing to Nyota. Of course, she had no idea about the true nature of your relationship with Nyota...neither does your father by the way."

"The nature of my relationship with Ms. Uhura is the same as that between any Starfleet instructor and cadet."

Amanda rolled her eyes at that. "Of course, son. As I was saying. Lady T'Pau went on to list every reason why Nyota would be a poor bondmate, including her humanity and humble background. It was with some effort that I kept my tongue. "

"What was father's response to this demand?"

"Well, your father replied that it was not illogical for you to take a human bond mate who was affiliated with Starfleet given your own human heritage and occupation with Starfleet. And since your bond with T'Pring was dissolved and you are of age, you are free to bond with the person of your choosing."

"Indeed," Spock replied with one raised eyebrow. He had to admit that he was surprised by his father's support.

"Yes, I was quite proud of you father," Amanda replied, smiling sweetly. "But Lady T'Pau would hear none of it. She insisted that Nyota would be an unsuitable bondmate because she lacked decorum and respect for your elders. Lady T'Pau told us that she had just recently returned from Earth where she had confronted Nyota on campus demanding that she refuse you should you propose. But, Nyota staunchly refused to make any such promise."

Spock sat up straighter at this bit of news. "Lady T'Pau spoke with Nyota...in person?"

"Yes. And she refused to be cowed by Lady T'Pau."

Spock stood from his seat. "I believe that I will have to return to Earth sooner than I intended, mother."

Amanda smiled widely. "Yes, I believe that you should. There is a transport that leaves for Earth this evening. If you would be so good as to give my regards to Tonya Uhura. She mentioned that her niece was spending the next few weeks visiting them in Chicago"

Spock narrowed his eyes at his mother. "I suspect that you have 'set me up,' mother."

*************************************************************************

Nyota balanced a sleepy Raymond on one hip as she punched in the code for the front door of Aunt Tonya’s Chicago condo. Nyota was returning from a fun but tiring day with her little cousins. She took Raymond and the twins to the Lincoln Park Zoo to visit the new tiger cubs followed by a long afternoon at the North Avenue Beach building sand castles and wading in Lake Michigan. Raymond’s face still bore residue from their special dinner; empanadas at Lito’s Empanadas in Lincoln Park followed by chocolate cupcakes and milk at Molly’s Cupcakes. Despite the sugary dessert, Raymond was more than ready for bed, as were Keisha and Kaylee.

“Awww, look at my little munchkins,” Aunt Tonya cooed as she greeted them in the foyer. She took Raymond from Nyota’s arms and kissed his forehead.

“I hope they were not too much trouble. Three little ones are a lot to look after on your own.”

“We are big girls now, “Keisha piped up, her hands on her hips in indignation.

Nyota smiled as she pet Keisha on the head. “You are right. Keisha and Kaylee were models of proper decorum. Truly aunt, they were no trouble at all.”

“Well, since you girls are so big, I want you to go clean up in the sonic shower. We can’t have you smelling like Lake Michigan all night. Then its off to bed.”

The twins grimaced before complying with their mother’s instructions, stopping to thank their cousin Ny-ny before they headed to the bathroom.

“I’ll wash Raymond up,” Aunt Tonya explained as she made to follow the girls up stairs. “Your uncle is out on the patio wrestling with the grill. Why don’t you keep him company while I get them sorted?”

Nyota rolled her eyes. “Why does uncle insist on building a real fire?”

“Some nonsense about keeping the traditions of his forefathers,” Aunt Tonya smirked before disappearing upstairs.

Nyota laughed as she walked to the kitchen to unpack her grocery bag. She added her bags of cherries and strawberries to the stasis unit next to a large bowl of fruit salad. The Uhura’s were having a few friends over for dessert and drinks. Hopefully Nyota was successful in wearing out her young cousins so they could enjoy a night relatively free of child interruptions.

Uhura couldn’t help poking a finger into the frosting of the coconut cake sitting on the counter. Aunt Tonya’s baking was legendary and Uhura looked forward to gaining a few pounds during her three week visit.

Nyota licked her finger clean as she walked through the the sliding glass doors out onto the patio. She took a moment to enjoy the sun sitting low over Lake Michigan before walking over to her Uncle Jomo who stood wrestling with a bundle of fire wood by the grill.

“Need a hand, uncle?”

“Oh, hello,” Uncle Jomo greeted as he ripped open the package of replicated wood.
“I’ve got this. Just have to get this fire going before everyone gets here.”

“Well, give a shout if you change your mind,” Uhura replied.“I learned a thing or two about starting fires in Survival Training 101.”

Nyota shook her head fondly as she retreated to the railing lining the edge of the patio and settled into one of the padded chairs that faced the lake. Her uncle was rather stubborn sometimes and held on to a few outdated notions about gender roles. While he fully shared in caring for his children, cleaning the home and preparing meals, he somehow felt that grilling was the proper province of men. She knew her uncle would fumble with the fire for another ten minutes before swallowing his pride and asking for help.

Nyota relaxed into her chair with a sigh and looked out over the lake. She watched the joggers and cyclists making their way along the lakeshore path. It was turning out to be a comfortable June evening. The sun had yet to set, but the temperature had already dropped to a comfortable 85 degrees Fahrenheit. Uhura closed her eyes and enjoyed the breeze over the lake, smiling at the occasional muffled expletive uttered by her uncle as he fumbled with the logs. Uhura’s musings were interrupted by doorbell.

“Oh great, they’re early,”Uncle Jomo groaned before frantically lighting matches.

“I’ll answer the door. I am sure Auntie has her hands full with Raymond and the girls.”
Uhura rose from her seat and quickly walked to the door, smoothing down her sundress as she went.

“Enter,” she called as she stepped into the foyer.

The door slid back with a hiss to reveal Commander Spock. Uhura stood dumbfounded.

“Commander Spock! What a surprise,”Uhura finally managed as she stepped aside to allow Spock to enter. “Please come in."

Spock stepped fully into the foyer, the door closing softly behind him. He stood looking down at Uhura, his face blank of expression save for the warmth of his brown eyes.

“I hope that my unannounced visit is not an inconvenience.”


“No, not at all,” Nyota replied, taking a moment to drink in his appearance.  He was unchanged from the last time she had seen him. He was still achingly handsome, his posture ramrod straight, his shoulders broad, his hair glossy and neat.

“It is good to see you. You look well.”

The corners of Spock’s mouth twitched upwards briefly.“You also appear to be in peak physical condition. I am gratified to see you as well.”

Nyota ducked her head and smiled.

“Ny, who is at the door?” Aunt Tonya asked as she made her way down the steps. “Oh! Spock! What a surprise.”

Aunt Tonya ran down the last few steps, her mouth curved in a warm smile. “You are very welcome.”

“Mrs. Uhura,”Spock greeted with a short bow. “I trust that my visit is not an inconvenience.”

“Of course not! Oh, did you just get in town?” Aunt Tonya asked, gesturing to his overnight bag. “Let me take that for you.”

“Thank you,” Spock handed Aunt Tonya his small overnight bag. “I arrived in Chicago not fifteen minutes ago.”

“Goodness, come into the kitchen. You must be thirsty,” Aunt Tonya replied as she ushered him towards the kitchen. Nyota followed, her eyes still wide in wonder.

“Did you just come in from San Francisco?” Aunt Tonya asked as she retrieved a glass from the cabinet.

“No. I arrived from Vulcan.”

“Vulcan!” Aunt Tonya exclaimed. “And you came straight here? You must be tired from your journey. Have you arranged a place to stay yet? You must stay here. Nyota is in the guest room, but we have an extra bed in my study. Oh, if only you called ahead, I would have had everything prepared for you. No matter. I’ll let Jomo know you’re staying with us.”

Aunt Tonya left the kitchen in a flurry as she went to fetch her husband.

Nyota smiled nervously at Spock.“I apologize for my aunt. She loves to play hostess.”
Nyota went to the stasis unit and retrieved a pitcher of cold lemon water. She poured a glass for Spock before pouring one for herself.

Spock sipped the cool liquid, his eyes studying her intently over the rim of his glass. Nyota looked away from him, pressing the glass to her forehead as she stepped away. He was here. In her aunt's kitchen in Chicago. Uhura had to suppress a nervous giggle.

Spock set down his half empty glass and moved towards her, his dark eyes intent. “I apologize if I have caused you and your family undo stress. It was my intent to acquire accommodations following my visit here. I can still do so.”

“Oh no. You have to stay here now. Otherwise you’ll offend Aunt Tonya," Nyota replied. "You are her Mandy’s son and thus practically family. It is not any trouble at all.”

“Spock!” Uncle Jomo called as he entered the kitchen. He approached the Vulcan as if he were going to give his signature bear hug but soon remembered himself. He stopped and gave a poor version of the Vulcan salute instead.

“Welcome, Spock. Tonya tells me that you are to stay with us. You are just in time for dessert, too. Have you eaten dinner yet? We still have some of my famous black bean burgers from dinner tonight if you’re hungry.”

Spock glanced at Nyota before turning back to Jomo. “Thank you, but I have already eaten the evening meal.  Thank you for your hospitality.”

Uncle Jomo waived his thanks away. “No problem. You are always welcome here. Besides, you can earn your keep by helping me get this blasted fire going.”

“I am pleased to serve,” Spock replied before taking his drink and following Uncle Jomo to the patio.

Aunt Tonya watched the two men depart before turning towards Nyota with a gleeful look.

“Ny, what can he mean by coming here straight from Vulcan! Mandy didn’t tell me anything about a visit from her son. He must be here to see you!.”

Tonya clapped her hands and bounced on the balls of her feet. “I knew it. I knew it. I told Jomo the boy was in love with you last summer. Now he travels light years to see you. Did you know he was coming?”

“No aunt, I didn’t know he was coming,”Nyota sat down heavily on a stool by the counter. “ I haven’t spoken to him in months. I was sure he had forgotten all about me. What can he mean by this?”Nyota dropped her head into her hands and groaned.

“Oh, Nyota. Whatever this means, I can assure you that he has not forgotten you. I truly doubt he came all this way to help your uncle with the grill.”

Nyota couldn’t help the smile that overtook her face. “No, I suppose he did not.”

Aunt Tonya caressed Nyota’s cheek fondly. “Well, I say you are inducement enough to travel over two star systems. I’ll make sure you two have a moment to talk tonight. I expect you both have much to say to one another.”

Nyota caught her aunt’s hand in her own and kissed it. She had not told her aunt of Spock's instrumental role in her rescue. Nor had she shared with her aunt the mental anguish she had endured these past several months. Nyota had longed to speak with him; to thank him for saving her life, to comfort him

“Thank you, Aunt Tonya.”

“Come on, lets rescue your young man from your uncle.”

Aunt Tonya pulled Nyota out onto the balcony where Uncle Jomo stood admiring a brightly burning wood fire.

“Tonya, I think this is the best fire we’ve ever had. Do we have something besides pineapples and marshmallows to grill? We can’t waste it!”

Aunt Tonya laughed as she walked over to kiss her husband’s cheek. “One summer you grilled weeds from my flower bed so as not to waste the fire! I am sure we can find something in the fridge. If not, Spock can teach you how to build an equally excellent fire another time.”

Spock bowed slightly. “I would be most willing to impart the basic principles, Dr. Uhura.”

“See? Now Jomo, why don’t we see what else we have to grill up tonight. Ny, show Spock where he’ll be sleeping."

Nyota ducked her head and bid Spock to follow her up the stairs. They stopped to retrieve his overnight bag from the living room before climbing the stairs. The butterflies returned to Nyota’s stomach as Spock followed her closely. She could feel the heat of him upon her back as they crested the second floor.

"That's Aunt and Uncle's bedroom at the end of the hall," Nyota pointed out. "And the bathroom is the door on the left. My cousin Ray's room and the twins. Keisha and Kaylee."

As Nyota and Spock neared the door to the twin's room, they heard giggles and whispers.

"They are supposed to be asleep and not spying," Nyota said loud enough to be heard.

The door burst open and Keisha and Kaylee bounded out, bouncing on their toes in their sleep shorts and tank tops. Their bouncing and giggling stopped abruptly as they took in their cousin’s companion.

"Aren't you two supposed to be sleeping?" Nyota asked, her face stern.

"It is still light out," Kaylee whined, as she tore her gaze from Spock. "It's too early for sleep."

"It is 8:30 PM and you two have had a very long and eventful day," Nyota replied as she attempted to steer her cousins back to their room.

"Who is he?" Keisha asked as she squirmed around Nyota. She grinned up at Spock. "He is very pretty. Is he your boyfriend?"

Nyota flushed, her mouth working soundlessly to form a reply. Spock glanced at her, his eyes soft with amusement, before turning his attention to Keisha.

"I am Spock, a colleague of your cousin Nyota from Starfleet."

Keisha's eyes grew round.

"Are you a starship captain?"

"No. I am a commander and I have served as a science officer aboard a starship."

"Did you ever fight any Klingons?" Kaylee asked, suddenly very interested in the conversation.

"Kaylee, don't be silly,” Keisha interjected. “Science officers don't battle Klingons. They are too busy studying anomalies in their lab."

“Ms. Kaylee’s inquiry is not ill founded,” Spock replied, kneeling down to be closer to the girls’ height. “While I have never personally fought Klingons, a science officer has many responsibilities outside of the science lab. I am also a bridge officer and cross trained to pilot the ship, operate the communications and navigation systems, and to engage in both offensive and defensive battle scenarios.”

Kaylee’s eyes lit up and she stepped closer to Spock. “Have you engaged in any battle scenarios?”

“Unfortunately, I have engaged in several scenarios involving Romulan and Orion ships, as well as  rogue Federation actors.”

“Do you mean pirates?” Keisha asked, coming to stand next to her sister.

"Girls, that's enough," Nyota intervened. "I want you two back in your bed in ten seconds or I am telling your mother."

Kaylee stuck out her bottom lip before turning to retreat to her bed. Keisha stayed put, her hands firmly planted on her hips as she appraised her cousin and her strange friend.

"Keisha. I'm serious..."

"Tell us a story first!" Keisha demanded.

“Keisha, you are being rude!”

"We want Spock to tell us a story," Kaylee piped in, having overheard Keisha's demand. "A story about space pirates!"

Nyota rubbed her forehead. She knew better than to negotiate with the twins. It was better to acquiesce to the first simple request.  "Okay. A short one. Then bed. But only if Spock wants to."

The twins turned to look at Spock, their brown eyes wide. He looked to Nyota, who simply shrugged and mouthed her apologies.

“Very well. I shall relate a short story as payment for my room and board.”

The twins cheered and Keisha launched herself into Spock’s arms without warning. Nyota gasped.

“Keisha! Spock, I am sorry. The twins haven’t learned much about Vulcans.”

Spock rose from his previous crouching position, Keisha seated easily in his arms, her arms looped around his neck.

“It is no matter, Nyota. My shields are firmly in place. Let us return the children to their beds.”

Nyota smiled. “Thank you, Spock. Come on Kaylee.”

Nyota led the group into the twins’ room and helped Kaylee climb into her bed. Nyota turned to see Spock doing the same, lowering Keisha to her bed and pulling the sheets up to her chin.

“Now the story, Spock,” Keisha demanded. “Please,” she quickly added after a stern look from her cousin.

“Very well,”Spock replied as he sat on the end of Keisha’s bed. Nyota sat on Kaylee’s  and prepared to listen.

“The account which I am about to relate is a true,” Spock began. “However, the names of the parties involved and certain details have been altered as the facts of the event are classified.”

The twins gasped in unison. Nyota simply arched a brow at Spock, who blinked back at her innocently.

“Two years, three months, and fourteen days after I graduated from Starfleet Academy, I served as the Science Officer aboard the Nichols on a six month mission to study a spatial anomaly 1,034.5 kilometers outside of the Telluvian asteroid belt in the Beta quadrant. Many Federation civilians do not know that this region of the Beta quadrant contains asteroids rich in quisthian phosphates, a very valuable component in the manufacture of Tellarite drill bits used in the mining of latinum.

Keisha yawned loudly at this point and Nyota noticed Kaylee’s eyelids begin to flutter.

“The Nichols was tasked with documenting the spatial anomaly to determine if it would pose any hazards to commercial quisthian phosphate mining. We were most concerned with measuring the level of radiation emitted by the anomaly and its long term health impact on the Tellarite nervous system as Tellar had successfully petitioned for exclusive quisthian phosphate mining rights in the Telluvian asteroid belt.”

Spock continued his tale of the Nichols research and Tellar mining technologies seemingly oblivious to the twins’ slow slip into slumber. By the time Spock got to the part in the story where they discovered that a dissident Tellarite group had illegally begun mining on one of the asteroids--the promised pirates--Keisha had begun snoring loudly.

“I think you’ve successfully put them to sleep,”Nyota laughed quietly. “The promise of pirates was not enough to overcome their aversion to the minutia of extraterrestrial geology."

Spock stood and adjusted his clothing. “Yes. I deduced that relating one of my more exciting encounters with space pirates would prove counterproductive to our goal of coaxing Ms. Keisha and Kaylee to sleep.”

Nyota smiled as she followed him out of the room. “Well played, Commander. Now let me show you to your room.”

Nyota led Spock up two short flight of stairs past the media room and guest suite on the third floor to her aunt’s study, a converted attic with wide windows that overlooked the city on one side and Lake Michigan on the other.

“Here it is,” Nyota said as they stepped into the room.

Spock stopped next to her just inside the room, his warm eyes fixed on her. Nyota felt her nervousness return. Spock seemed to fill the small room. He was here with her in Chicago. The one man she had worked so hard not to think about. The one man she longed to see. To talk to. After months of silence, he was here in her space and she did not know what to say to him.
Nyota shook herself and stepped further into the room, putting her duties as hostess on like a shield.

“Through this door is a small bathroom with a sonic shower so you’ll have a private bathroom. If you push this button, a queen size bed folds out from behind the bookcase. It is already laid out with fresh linens.”

Nyota pushed the button beside the bookcase to demonstrate. The faux-wood bookcase flipped around to reveal a fold down bed. Nyota pressed the button again and put the bed away.

“The climate controls are voice activated and specific to this room, so you can make it as comfortable as you like. There is a comm on my aunt’s desk that you are welcome to use. If you need anything, you can ask Aunt Tonya.”

“I am sure that I will want for nothing,” Spock replied, stepping into the room. He watched Nyota as she stood in the center of the room wringing her hands and looking everywhere but at him.

“Well,”Nyota said as she spared a quick glance at him. “Get settled. I need to check to see if my Aunt needs my help.”

Nyota brushed past him to exit the room.

“Nyota, please,” Spock called.

Nyota stopped and gripped the door frame, fixing her face with a calm smile before turning to face him. “Yes, Spock?”

“Would you be amenable to taking a walk with me this evening? There is much that I would like to discuss with you. In private.”

Nyota released a breath that she did not realized she had been holding. “I would like that. Perhaps we can walk along the lakefront path?”

Spock stared at her a moment, his face softening slightly. “Please, lead the way.”

-----------------------------

This wraps up the story. I would like to wxpress my appreciation once more for Alida\s excellent work as a Beta. She caught numerous errors and made my poor prose much more readable.

---

Part VI - Epilogue

There is a certain momentum, an inexorability if you will, in the events surrounding a wedding. Plans must be made, wedding clothes purchased and neighbours allowed to share in the good fortune of the families involved. Yet, in the midst of such pleasures, other events will transpire and, if not deflect, at least capture the attentions of those most intimately involved in the wedding preparations.

One such event took place a week or so after Mr. Bingley’s return to Netherfield. Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs. Bennet saw her most favoured daughter become engaged to a very deserving gentleman; for indeed, Mr. Bingley did shortly come to the point, aided beyond doubt by the machinations of Elizabeth and Darcy and accomplished without that loss of propriety which might have attended any effort by Mrs. Bennet. At Darcy’s suggestion, the two couples set out together to walk to Oakham Mount and, since both Darcy and Elizabeth were the more accomplished walkers, a separation of no little distance was soon established. Being careful to remain within sight but too distant for any conversation to be overheard, the foremost couple were soon treated to the sight of Bingley on one knee in front of Miss Bennet. The subject of his application could not be doubted and its reception even less so, as he was soon seen to jump to his feet, embrace Miss Bennet and then swing her around in his arms. Her laughing delight could be heard from where they stood and they quickly closed the distance to extend their congratulations and share the joy being experienced.

Mr. Bennet's approval was sought but a short time later and, if he sported with Bingley for a few minutes, he did not withhold his blessing; not a word, however, passed his lips in allusion to it, till Bingley took his leave for the night; but as soon as he was gone, he turned to his daughter, and said, "Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman.”

Jane went to him instantly, kissed him, and thanked him for his goodness.

“You are a good girl;” he replied, “and I have great pleasure in thinking you will be so happily settled. I have not a doubt of your doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means unlike. You are each of you so complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so easy, that every servant will cheat you; and so generous, that you will always exceed your income.”

Elizabeth could rejoice with her sister in her happiness without envying her at all. Although quite liking Mr. Bingley, his character was lacking in that resolve and firmness which she had come to admire in Mr. Darcy. She could not believe that Mr. Darcy would have been dissuaded to walk away from her if placed in a situation similar to Mr. Bingley. In fact, he had withstood his aunt’s importuning quite well. As she thought further, she remembered Mr. Bingley’s dislike of confrontation and disagreement during her stay at Netherfield while nursing Jane. He had been obviously uncomfortable with those exchanges between herself and Mr. Darcy that had bordered on a pronounced disagreement and, in addition, had done little to curb his sisters’ exhibition of poor manners while in Hertfordshire. She wondered at his ability to manage an estate if he was unwilling to deal with controversy and contentious issues. Perhaps her father had the right of it and they would be prey to all manner of cheats. It was not a happy thought or prospect. But neither was it a problem that she could affect at all.

Darcy and Elizabeth were all but forgotten by Mrs. Bennet. Jane was beyond competition her favourite child. At that moment, she cared for no other. Jane’s hopes to share her wedding with her sister were for nought, however, as Mrs. Bennet would not hear of the wedding being held with so little time to prepare. Three or fewer weeks were hardly sufficient time, in her opinion, to organize an appropriate celebration. Since Elizabeth was not to return from her honeymoon for four weeks after her own wedding, a date of July 1 was decided upon to the satisfaction of one and all. If Mrs. Bennet treated Jane’s intended with more deference than Elizabeth’s despite the disparity in their incomes, the pin-money they would have and the quality and number of their carriages, the cause was not difficult to discern. The proximity of Netherfield and the prospect of having a daughter wed and living nearby with whom she could visit whenever convenient was undoubtedly of material satisfaction and raised the value of Jane’s attachment greatly.

The only person unhappy with the prospect of Jane’s wedding was Lydia. The ____shire Militia was to depart in a fortnight and the ensuing lamentations and complaints issuing from both Lydia and Kitty had not lessened to any noticeable degree. But the gloom of Lydia’s prospect was shortly cleared away; for she received an invitation from Mrs. Forster, the wife of the Colonel of the regiment, to accompany her to Brighton. This invaluable friend was a very young woman, and very lately married. A resemblance in good humour and good spirits had recommended her and Lydia to each other, and out of their three months’ acquaintance they had been intimate two.

The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adoration of Mrs. Forster, the delight of Mrs. Bennet, and the mortification of Kitty, are scarcely to be described. Wholly inattentive to her sister’s feelings, Lydia flew about the house in restless ecstasy, calling for everyone’s congratulations, and laughing and talking with more violence than ever; whilst the luckless Kitty continued in the parlour repining at her fate in terms as unreasonable as her accent was peevish. In vain did Elizabeth attempt to reason with her, and Jane to make her resigned.

As for Elizabeth herself, this invitation was so far from exciting in her the same feelings as in her mother and Lydia, that she considered it as the death-warrant of all possibility of common sense for the latter; and detestable as such a step must make her were it known, she could not help secretly advising her father not to let her go. She represented to him all 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 at Brighton, where the temptations must be greater than at home. Seeing him reluctant to oppose the plan, Elizabeth and Jane then petitioned their mother as to the desirability of having Lydia present for both weddings. After some thought, persistent urging on the part of her two eldest daughters and the vocal support of their intended, Mrs. Bennet was persuaded to agree; however, she could see no reason not to allow Lydia to join her friend following Jane’s wedding and with this her eldest daughters were forced to be satisfied. Elizabeth made one last effort to persuade her father to forbid the project but her pleadings had little effect upon him.

He heard her attentively, and then said, "Lydia will never be easy till she has exposed herself in some public place or other, and we can never expect her to do it with so little expense or inconvenience to her family as under the present circumstances.”

Elizabeth was not content with this response and disclaimed, “Our importance, our respectability in the world, must be affected by the wild volatility, the assurance and disdain of all restraint which mark Lydia’s character. Excuse me - for I must speak plainly. If you, my dear father, will not take the trouble of checking her exuberant spirits, and of teaching her that her present pursuits are not to be the business of her life, she will soon be beyond the reach of amendment. Her character will be fixed, and she will, at sixteen, be the most determined flirt that ever made herself and her family ridiculous. A flirt, too, in the worst and meanest degree of flirtation; without any attraction beyond youth and a tolerable person; and from the ignorance and emptiness of her mind, wholly unable to ward off any portion of that universal contempt which her rage for admiration will excite. In this danger Kitty is also comprehended. She will follow wherever Lydia leads.—Vain, ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled! Oh! My dear father, can you suppose it possible that they will not be censured and despised wherever they are known, and that their sisters will not be often involved in the disgrace?”

Mr. Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the subject; and affectionately taking her hand, said in reply, "Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane are known, you must be respected and valued; and you will not appear to less advantage for having a couple of - or I may say, three - very silly sisters. We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go to Brighton. Let her go then. Colonel Forster is a sensible man, and will keep her out of any real mischief; and she is luckily too poor to be an object of prey to anybody. At Brighton she will be of less importance, even as a common flirt, than she has been here. The officers will find women better worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that her being there may teach her own insignificance. At any rate, she cannot grow many degrees worse without authorizing us to lock her up for the rest of her life.”

With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be content; but her own opinion continued the same, and she left him disappointed and sorry. It was not in her nature, however, to increase her vexations by dwelling on them. She was confident of having performed her duty, and to fret over unavoidable evils, or augment them by anxiety, was no part of her disposition.

As well, her own wedding was approaching and she would not allow herself to suffer a diminution of that pleasure. She was bound for London to purchase her wedding clothes under the guidance of her Aunt Gardiner – Mrs. Bennet being convinced to remain at Longbourn to organize the wedding celebration. This task took the best part of a week during which she found little time to spend with Darcy. The evening before her return to Longbourn, a meeting took place which, for much of the week, she had resolutely forbidden herself to contemplate. She and Darcy were to dine with the Earl and Countess of Matlock, Darcy’s uncle and aunt. The earl was Lady Catherine’s brother and, despite Darcy’s reassurances, the prospect of possibly facing an even more intimidating version of that lady was not one to create much pleasure. In fact, however, appearances apart, the earl was in no wise comparable to her ladyship. His reserve was not unlike that of Darcy himself and, if he was uncertain as to the wisdom of his nephew’s choice of a wife, it was not betrayed in any lack of civility. The countess was all that was amiable and it was clear the Colonel Fitzwilliam had derived both appearance and manners from her. If her comments were to be believed – and Elizabeth had no reason to think otherwise – she was not only prepared but delighted to assist Elizabeth’s entry into society. If Elizabeth had little inclination herself to spend much time in such activities, she was aware that Georgiana would need her assistance and that of the countess when it came time for her to be introduced into society. The dinner could be considered a success. It was not long enough to establish a firm relationship with Darcy’s uncle and aunt but it had passed smoothly enough to make a future meeting less fraught with anxiety. She rather thought that their first impression of her was favourable and she believed that she could come to like them quite well indeed. Certainly Darcy had had no qualms about the evening and was frequently heard to exclaim, on their return to Longbourn the next day, that Elizabeth had charmed them completely.

If her mother was unhappy with being allowed only several weeks to prepare a wedding celebration, it seemed only to spur her to greater efforts to organize as many events as possible to allow her neighbours numerous opportunities to appreciate in full the great benefits being accorded to the Bennet family. When Elizabeth was at Longbourn, dinner followed dinner as the principal families all decided to acknowledge Elizabeth’s good fortune. Elizabeth’s only concern was the discomfort of Darcy. That he was extremely uncomfortable in such surroundings, she well knew but he bore it with admirable calmness. He could even listen to Sir William Lucas, when he complimented him on carrying away the brightest jewel of the country, and expressed his hopes of their all meeting frequently at St. James’s, with very decent composure. If he did shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir William was out of sight. Mrs. Philips’s vulgarity was another, and perhaps a greater, tax on his forbearance; and though Mrs. Philips, as well as her sister, stood in too much awe of him to speak with the familiarity which Bingley’s good humour encouraged, yet, whenever she did speak, she must be vulgar. Nor was her respect for him, though it made her more quiet, at all likely to make her more elegant.

Elizabeth did all she could to shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to keep him to herself, and to those of her family with whom he might converse without mortification; and though the uncomfortable feelings arising from all this took from the season of courtship much of its pleasure, it added to the hope of the future; and she looked forward with delight to the time when they should be removed from society so little pleasing to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their family party at Pemberley. That Darcy and her father were slowly becoming both comfortable and pleased with the company of the other was a great satisfaction; and one day as she watched them playing a game of chess, such a feeling of happiness came over her that she could not bear to remain in the room and quickly exited the house into the nearest garden. She had not time to control her tears when she heard approaching footsteps and Darcy’s voice enquiring as to the cause of her distress. Wiping her eyes, she quickly sought to embrace and murmured into his chest, “I am not distressed! Indeed I am not! I am happy!”

She could hear the confusion in his voice, “But you are crying?”

“Indeed I am happy. It was the sight of you and my father playing chess together that made me so. The sight of the two men I love most being so content in each other’s company was…I don’t know how to express it!”

“You love me!” Elizabeth could not miss the exultation mixed with uncertainty in Darcy’s voice.

“Indeed I do, William! Most ardently!”

At this Elizabeth paused but, before she could continue, she found her lips otherwise engaged most delightfully and, she thought, rather ardently – the meaning of which she was coming to appreciate and understand more fully. The expressions of love that flowed from Darcy were a surprise to her and she realized that he had tempered his own effusions perhaps in deference to an unwillingness to overset her feelings. Now, it seemed, all restraints were loosed and it was only their proximity to the house that moderated his expressions of happiness.

In a calmer manner they prolonged their escape from the celebration inside and strolled around the garden. Elizabeth’s spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she wanted Mr. Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. “How could you begin?” said she. “I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first place?”

“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

“My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners - my behaviour to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?”

“For the liveliness of your mind, I did.”

“You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was very little less. The fact is you were sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking, and looking, and thinking for your approbation alone. I roused, and interested you, because I was so unlike them. Had you not been really amiable, you would have hated me for it; but in spite of the pains you took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always noble and just; and in your heart, you thoroughly despised the persons who so assiduously courted you. There - I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it; and really, all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly reasonable. To be sure, you knew no actual good of me - but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love.”

“Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to Jane while she was ill at Netherfield?”

“Dearest Jane! Who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it by all means. My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may be.”

~~~

Finally the wedding day arrived, vows were exchanged, the registry signed and Miss Elizabeth Bennet surrendered that name and became, to her great pleasure, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. The newly wedded couple stayed but an hour for the wedding breakfast and took their leave to honeymoon for nearly a month in Weymouth. I cannot divulge much of what transpired there other to say that Mrs. Darcy had no cause to repine in those marital intimacies which ensued and indeed the frequency with which she and Mr. Darcy enjoyed each other’s company in the privacy of their bedchamber must stand as testimony to their mutual happiness.

Their return to Longbourn, a scant two days before her sister’s wedding, was an occasion of great joy for Jane Bennet. The newly wedded couple had been offered and accepted the chance to stay at Netherfield and Jane had not needed more than an hour to determine that her sister was indeed most happily married. Neither Darcy nor Elizabeth were of a nature for public displays of affection but Jane could discern - in a host of small incidents: a frequency of small touches, a tendency to walk closely together, exchanges of lingering glances and a desire to retire early in the evening – that her sister and her husband were quite pleased with each other. One startling fact Jane was to discover was that her sister and her husband shared but a single bed and had done so from the very first night of their marriage – a fact which gave her pause for considerable thought.

Following the Bingley wedding, the Darcys removed to Pemberley and were joined a month later by the Bingleys who had travelled to visit for a month with his relatives in the north of England. The two happy couples had not enjoyed each other’s company for more than a fortnight when an express from Mr. Bennet overset all their plans. Lydia, foolish Lydia, had been caught in a most compromising position with an officer in the ____shire Militia. Fortunately the officer, Captain Carter, who was well known to them all, was prepared - perhaps one might even say, delighted – to act in an honourable manner and wed the young lady. The alacrity with which he signalled his intentions might have been cause for concern as to how much blame could actually be attached to Miss Lydia’s role but his interest in her seemed genuine and no one doubted the necessity of their marrying. Indeed, given Lydia’s behaviour, she could not, under the circumstances, have been wed to a more capable gentleman. The Darcys and Bingleys returned to Netherfield posthaste and it was but a matter of days for the details of a marriage settlement agreeable to Captain Carter were finalized. Contributions of 1,000 pounds from both Bingley and Darcy, a guarantee of 100 pounds per annum from Mr. Bennet, an equal share of her mother’s portion upon the death of both her parents and the purchase of a Captaincy in the regulars for Captain Carter, was sufficient to settle the matter. That the captain had a modest income from a family bequest of about 4,000 pounds, in addition to his salary, would provide him, his wife and the subsequent children with a modest, but comfortable, life. Fortunately – or perhaps not, from Lydia’s viewpoint – the captain was not inclined to allow his wife to waste their income on fripperies which they could ill afford.

The Carters were, for the first months of their marriage, settled in Essex; however, towards the end of the year, the captain’s regiment was designated to travel to Canada to defend that country from its American neighbours. His wife was to accompany him, at his request, since his sojourn there was to be of no short duration. At the conclusion of that war, the captain resolved to remain in the country, adopting as his new home the port of Halifax. In this endeavour he was supported, albeit somewhat reluctantly, by his wife who rather wished to see her parents once more. In time she found that the less restrained lifestyle that could be lived in Halifax was much to her liking. While Captain Carter remained in the military, Mr. Gardiner, who hoped to expand his presence in the Americas, was convinced to begin employing him as his agent to their mutual benefit; and, in the course of time, the captain’s effort proved so successful as to allow him to resign from the military and devote himself full-time to Mr. Gardiner’s business.

The wedding of Jane Bennet and Charles Bingley was the pinnacle of Mrs. Bennet’s happiness. With what delighted pride she afterwards visited Mrs. Bingley, and talked of Mrs. Darcy, may be guessed. The marriage of the daughter she favoured above all others could not be the subject of excessive praise; although such satisfaction as she could realize was lessened considerably by that daughter being settled so far away as to preclude the possibility of visiting. I wish I could say, for the sake of her family, that the accomplishment of her earnest desire in the establishment of so many of her children produced so happy an effect as to make her a sensible, amiable, well-informed woman for the rest of her life; though perhaps it was lucky for her husband, who might not have relished domestic felicity in so unusual a form, that she still was occasionally nervous and invariably silly.

Mr. Bennet missed his second daughter exceedingly; his affection for her drew him oftener from home than anything else could do. He delighted in going to Pemberley, especially when he was least expected. Mr. Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield only a twelvemonth. So near a vicinity to her mother and Meryton relations was not desirable even to his easy temper, or her affectionate heart. The darling wish of his wife and sister was then gratified; he bought an estate in a neighbouring county to Derbyshire, and Jane and Elizabeth, in addition to every other source of happiness, were within thirty miles of each other.

Kitty, to her very material advantage, spent the chief of her time with her two elder sisters. In society so superior to what she had generally known, her improvement was great. She was not of so ungovernable a temper as Lydia; and, removed from the influence of Lydia’s example, she became, by proper attention and management, less irritable, less ignorant, and less insipid. Mary was the only daughter who remained at home; and she was necessarily drawn from the pursuit of accomplishments by Mrs. Bennet’s being quite unable to sit alone. Mary was obliged to mix more with the world, but she could still moralize over every morning visit; and as she was no longer mortified by comparisons between her sisters’ beauty and her own, it was suspected by her father that she submitted to the change without much reluctance.

Miss Bingley was very deeply mortified by Darcy’s marriage; but as she thought it advisable to retain the right of visiting at Pemberley, she dropped all her resentment; was fonder than ever of Georgiana, almost as attentive to Darcy as heretofore, and paid off every arrear of civility to Elizabeth.

Pemberley was now Georgiana’s home; and the attachment of the sisters was exactly what Darcy had hoped to see. They were able to love each other even as well as they intended. Georgiana had the highest opinion in the world of Elizabeth; though at first she often listened with an astonishment bordering on alarm at her lively, sportive, manner of talking to her brother. He, who had always inspired in herself a respect which almost overcame her affection, she now saw the object of open pleasantry. Her mind received knowledge which had never before fallen in her way. By Elizabeth’s instructions, she began to comprehend that a woman may take liberties with her husband which a brother will not always allow in a sister more than ten years younger than himself.

Lady Catherine was extremely indignant on the marriage of her nephew; and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her character in a letter which denounced its arrangement in language so very abusive, especially of Elizabeth, that for some time all intercourse was at an end. But at length, by Elizabeth’s persuasion, Darcy was prevailed on to overlook the offence, and seek a reconciliation. After a little farther resistance on the part of his aunt, her resentment gave way, either to her affection for him, or her curiosity to see how his wife conducted herself; and she condescended to wait on them at Pemberley, in spite of that pollution which its woods had received, not merely from the presence of such a mistress, but the visits of her uncle and aunt from the city. With the Gardiners, they were always on the most intimate terms. Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, really loved them; and they were both ever sensible of the warmest pleasure in the company of thosepersons who, by the excellence of their manners and intelligence could not but bring credit to themselves and those connected to them..

It is not to be supposed that a couple, both of whom are possessed of strong opinions, lively tempers and a goodly measure of stubbornness, could hope to avoid arguments and disagreements; however, since both were also possessed of a very strong affection for the other and the ability to consider the other’s viewpoint, such disagreements were rarely of a long duration. By Elizabeth’s liveliness and happy nature, Darcy was enlivened while Elizabeth found her understanding improved by Darcy’s experience and knowledge and, if she found, more frequently than she expected, that her opinion needed to be modified once exposed to his information, she could be satisfied that her husband was quite willing to defer to her judgement in those areas where she had proven her superiority.

Finis

AN: Thanks for the comments. The studies do make me appreciate modern conveniences.
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Chapter 21

Anne started helping in an entirely new way shortly after they returned to South Park. One of the footmen became ill with a hacking cough and Anne was to assist in his care. She needed more experience in caring for the ill than her visits to tenants had provided.

Mrs. Craig called Anne to her sitting room for a discussion. “You may have very little ability to contact an apothecary or physician when you are at sea or in foreign lands, so you need to have some basic understanding of how to help in common illnesses. Now, Henry has a dry, hacking cough. We will start with the easiest treatment, which is to give him a spoonful of honey three times per day. That will help ease the coughing. You have probably had that at one time or other. Now, if his throat were also hurting, we would have him regularly gargle warm salted water in addition to swallowing the honey.”

Anne said, “Yes, I remember doing these things. Luckily, I am not often ill with a cough.”

“It is quite common in winter, so we want to treat it quickly before something worse develops. We will also have him drink thyme tea at his meals. That will also help him breathe more easily. Since we use thyme in our cooking, we always have it on hand.”

From that point on, Anne assisted in providing healing teas, learning to make mustard plasters, hot and cold compresses. Mrs. Craig and Mrs. Carlisle both spent time teaching Anne which herbs could provide some relief from a variety of ailments. However, for cases where an apothecary was necessary, Anne merely observed from a distance. They did not want her to take ill along with the patient. She eventually became proficient in caring for minor wounds and illnesses.

Throughout January and February, part of the time Anne and Agatha spent with Mrs. Carlisle was spent discussing the needs of the kitchen garden and how one planned for it. They learned just how much food was consumed in the dower house over the course of a year and how much of it came from its own gardens. From the menu planning, they had seen how meat might begin as a dinner for the family, then be refashioned into a stew which would constitute a tea, then be a soup that was served at dinner, and finally end up as soup that was served to staff. Almost nothing went to waste. There was always a way to repurpose it so that all was consumed. All of the fats were rendered for future use. Peels and scrapings from vegetables were not wasted either as these made their way into the compost bins unless they went directly to the pigs, chickens or goats first.

There was always an abundance of soup which would be shared with those who were ailing about the estate or in the nearby village, much as Anne had done with Kellynch’s surplus. These cooks all considered it a sin to waste food. Nourishing soups were always kept on hand to relieve someone’s illness or suffering.

By the beginning of February, Anne, Agatha, and Mrs. Carlisle were laying out the plans for the kitchen garden. Seed had been saved from the previous year which was a concept that fascinated the girls.

“You can purchase seed, but why waste the money when you can just save it from your own garden with just a little bit of effort. Of course, the first year, you must purchase. And if you are trying something new, you must also. Now, you see how small these seeds are? We must guess about how much produce we will get from these seeds as we plan. Do we have enough to cover the area we need to get the outcome we want? Generally, we use all you see here in order to fill our garden. As we lay it out, we look at the plan from last year. We never want to plant a particular crop in the same location two years running. That way, we keep diseases from claiming the crops.”

Agatha asked, “There are diseases that claim crops?”

Mrs. Carlisle answered, “Oh, yes. There are various different blights. They seem to hide in the soil and come back to get them the second year. So, if we do turnips in this area this year, we move them over here next. Also, there are some crops that do better when planted with companions. They seem to support each other just as friends do. Some we leave in for two years. These carrots here, “she pointed to a location on the map, “are still in the ground. These will provide seeds for next year. Carrots are a two year crop. You harvest half one year, leave the rest for seed for the next. So, we always have carrots in two different locations in the garden.”

She added, “We also have the hothouse to consider as well. This is what gives us fresh greens and some other things during the colder months. We decide what we want growing there in the winter and allow most of it to go fallow during the summer. We often keep the chickens in there for part of the summer in order to better fertilize it for the next winter. Chickens and rabbits are very important for your garden and your kitchen.”

Anne asked, “Rabbits? How so?”

Mrs. Carlisle said, “In many ways. For some of the left over bits, we don’t compost directly. Instead, we feed them to the chickens and rabbits. We then transfer that manure into the compost which makes it decompose faster. Of course, we have eggs from the chickens as well. And both end up on the table. Lady Rachel doesn’t care for a roast rabbit, which some do, but we do have it in stews, casseroles, and soups. These are part of the kitchen garden. The other livestock are also important, but we don’t manage them from the kitchen. Some households add geese. They may be part of the kitchen or just part of the farm, depending on the size of the home and staff. These also often include the sheep and goats as part of the kitchen tasks.”

Agatha asked, “How would they be part of the kitchen?”

“Well. They are able to help with the trimming about the house. If you keep a close eye on them, the goats can eat down the shrubbery in the woods and keep it well cleaned up and easier to manage. They all do a cutting job on the grass. If you manage it correctly, you rarely have to scythe the lawn around a home. Just stake out the sheep or goats where you want it cut or let the geese wander. Just keep them away from the flowers and you’re all set. However, you do have to watch where you walk as they leave droppings around. These are regularly scooped up and added to the compost bins.”

“Homes like that also include the pigs in the kitchen as they eat slop that would just end up in the compost. Between the pigs and the goats, you can have a lot of the trimmings from bushes and shrubs eaten instead of burned as rubbish. It is a cycle of co-dependence that has been used for eons. If you manage it correctly, it costs very little to supply almost all of the food at the table, only time. On the estate, we even raise much of the grain that creates our breads. We keep bees, so we sweeten with honey more than any other sweet. Those that cannot do all this must pay hard cash for it. You won’t have to worry about this at sea, but you might in a foreign port.”

Anne said, “So that is why it may be part of the kitchen. It all has to do with how you are managing the food supply and how large an estate.”

“Yes. In town, almost all is purchased although you might have a small garden to supplement. In country, almost all is home grown. It is one of the reasons many choose not to spend a great deal of time in London if they have a decent estate. London has the parties. Country has the more comfortable food supply. If you do a good job with managing the estate, you can use it to supply your London residence as well. That way you know the quality of all the food on the table. Of course, at sea, you will just have to make do with what is supplied.”

Within a few days, the ladies had planned the kitchen gardens for the dower house for 1807. Agatha had asked about this up at the main house and been shown a similar plan for it, only on a larger scale. This was a different level of planning that neither had seen before and both found it fun and fascinating. Some of the crops would be planted as seed in the hothouse in February. If they waited to plant the seeds out in the garden after the frost, there would not be time enough for them to grow for harvest before frost caught them again in the fall. This was a way to extend the growing season.

As Anne and Agatha were discussing this one afternoon, Agatha said, “Do you think you will ever need to do these things you are learning?”

Anne considered for a moment. “I think it likely the laundry, mending, sewing, and other needlework will be used. I don’t like doing laundry, but I suspect that Nell and I will be doing it together on ship. On land, it will likely be her with other maids. If I am to cook, it won’t be at sea. If Captain Wentworth continues to be successful, I probably won’t do any cooking, only overseeing it. I expect knowing how to nurse someone and repair minor injuries will be used. Of course, I won’t garden at sea. However, even if I never use these skills, it has been fun to learn and I have much greater understanding and appreciation. That is never wasted.”

Agatha added, “I think you are probably correct. I hope you can learn about life on ship from your correspondence with his sister. She has a better idea of what you will need than we have.”

“We have only just begun, but I think you are correct. She should be of great help in determining what else I should try to learn.”

Soon spring was coming and it was time to think about heading to town for the Season. Lady Rachel and Anne decided that they had no interest in spending part of the Season in London this year. They would prefer to remain at South Park, so they did not accompany the others when they went to town. Anne, in particular, had no desire to see her father and sister when they went for their annual trip in April. From Lady Russell’s letters, she understood that once again, no offer of marriage had been forthcoming during the autumn shooting parties, and Elizabeth was becoming quite peevish. Agatha wanted the opportunity to visit with Joshua and Millicent and have one more fun season before they married.

After Agatha left for town, Anne had another fun learning opportunity. Mrs. Craig found that they were getting short on candles and it was time to make more. Anne and Nell would learn to make tallow candles.

“We use beeswax candles in the family rooms. They burn brighter and have a sweeter scent. However, in the servant rooms and in the kitchen, we use tallow candles. We are running low, so it is time to make more. They are very easy and this could be very handy for you to know.”

Anne smiled and said, “I cannot believe how many new things there are to learn. Is this one I can do myself or must someone stronger help me like with the laundry?”

“Oh, this is quite easy. Maybe a little tedious, but easy. I steal Susie away from Mrs. Carlisle for the morning when I make candles. This time, it will be just the three of us.” As she said this, Mrs. Craig led Anne and Nell to the kitchen. They found a large pot of tallow melting on the stove.

Mrs. Craig said, “Thank you Mrs. Carlisle. I think Miss Anne will have an interesting morning.”

Mrs. Carlisle laughed and said, “That she will.” She then left to enjoy a late breakfast of her own in the housekeeper’s sitting room.

There was a rack standing on the table. Next to the rack was a large kettle of water. On the rack was a rod with a number of strings draped over it spaced evenly across. At the end of each string a small weight was tied. Mrs. Craig said, “Watch. Then you can try.”

She picked up the rod. Anne could see that the strings were not just draped. They had been wrapped once so they would not slide across the rod. There also seemed to be small grooves in the rod to keep the strings steady. Mrs. Craig took the rod across to the pot of liquid tallow and dipped it in coating the strings. She then stepped back to the pot on the table, and dipped again. This colder water solidified the tallow. She repeated the process and said, “There are really two choices here. When you dip the strings in the tallow, it coats them. You solidify the fat on the strings either by letting them sit and harden, or by dipping them in cold water. You want multiple layers of fat to create the candles. If you let them sit, it will take longer, but not be quite as messy. When you are completely done dipping, you let them harden on the rack. Then we will cut the strings in half. We will cut the string and trim some from the top, leaving string showing for the wick, and trim the candle bottom flat to sit in the candlestick. Candles like this are why we have spikes in so many of the candlesticks. With the spike, we do not need to trim them too carefully nor make them a specific width to fit in the stick. Now, you try.”

Anne carefully picked up the rod and dipped the candles. Nell tried too. They continued in this way until there were enough layers built up to form sturdy candles. Anne asked, “So, if I don’t want the popping when I return the wet candles to the fat, I can just dip, wait, and dip again?”

“Yes. It just takes longer but isn’t so messy.”

Anne said thoughtfully, “I can see how that might be better if I don’t want to clean up the dripping water afterwards.”

By the end of the morning, the candles were hardening on the rack. Before they got too hard, they removed the weight from the bottom. The next morning, they trimmed and stored them away. As they were storing them, Mrs. Craig said, “You can also make these with a candle mold. However, I think the dipping method will probably be easier for you in your travels. The mold method requires a number of molds. You place the wick in the mold and pour in the tallow. It is easier and cleaner, but if you are traveling with your captain, you are not likely to take a bunch of candle molds with you.

Anne smiled and said, “That is good to know. I can see how I might use that method too, but you are probably right that this is more likely.”

Mrs. Craig said, “We use both here. Dipped are usually for the servants’ quarters, molded for the kitchen and other service rooms as we can get a fatter candle that way.”

“I continue to be amazed at how much there is to learn for even the simple everyday things I have always taken for granted.”

Mrs. Craig replied, “You grandmother is a wise woman to help you learn all this that those of the lower classes take for granted. Although you might not need it, you might also be entering a completely different world. At least this way, you can cope with the new world.”

During the winter, Anne had received another letter from Sophie Croft, a letter from Frederick, occasional letters from Mary, and regular correspondence from Mrs. Musgrove, Lady Russell, and Edward Wentworth. She thus had a pretty clear picture of what was going on around Kellynch, of the changes in Mary’s attitude, and of life at sea in the Indies. The Asp was not a very large ship, but Captain Wentworth was enjoying his command. He shared abbreviated descriptions of his various adventures. She had a very full and satisfying season in spite of the cold and weather. 


Chapter 22

Mary was growing into adolescence with the uncertainty that brings, and Anne was able to provide reassurance in her letters. The letters from South Park were far more comforting and frequent than those from Kellynch, enabling Mary to learn more about how to discern people’s feelings and needs, which she realized Elizabeth had never bothered to learn. Mary also realized that she greatly preferred Anne to Elizabeth, which she thought was surprising given how beautiful Elizabeth was.

During this school term, she came to realize that who people were inside was more important than how they looked. Given what her father had always said, this was a shocking realization, but it was confirmation of what she had discerned about friends at Christmas. She also understood that her mother had always known this, as had Anne, and it was what they had tried to teach her. She had finally matured enough to comprehend the teaching. The result of these realizations, and the ones from Christmas, was that Mary finally started developing some true friends. Her relationships with the Musgrove girls deepened and were far more satisfying than in the past. Even though they were a few years younger than Mary, she knew they would remain life-long friends. In addition, two or three other girls also became good friends. These friendships also helped Mary become more sure of herself and much happier.

Lady Russell was still somewhat concerned about the choice Anne was making to marry Captain Wentworth. She did not have a great respect for sailors, not really considering them gentlemen, and she shared more of Sir Walter’s opinions than Anne had realized. It was apparent that Lady Rachel had not really convinced her Anne was making a prudent choice as her letters often suggested that Anne reconsider her choice and return to her family at Kellynch. Anne was sad to recognize that she was drawing further and further away from her godmother as she became more confident in herself. Anne regretted what she was losing in the relationship but relished her new-found strength. She hoped that when Lady Russell visited later in the spring they could draw closer again.

While the Stevensons were in town for their two months of the season, Joshua Ackerman suggested a wedding date to Agatha. He had come into his inheritance and was now in a position to support a wife. Agatha was pleased to accept. They planned for a late April wedding. Anne and Lady Rachel would join them in town in mid-April.

While the family was away in March, spring thaw arrived at South Park. Anne now learned all that went into actually creating the kitchen garden that she and Mrs. Carlisle had planned. John was the main gardener at the dower house, and she now spent her mornings with him watching him turn the plan into actuality. Like Mrs. Carlisle had when Anne was merely observing, John explained what he was doing as he did it.

“As you can see, there are green plants all over the garden. That is a winter cover crop. It helps keep the soil in place and adds good things to it over the winter. Now that the thaw is here and the ground not too wet, we must plow it all under to get the good things into the soil. We must bury it deep beneath the crops we will plant.” He and two boys spent the entire week getting all of the cover crop dug up, the ground turned, and the cover crop well buried. As they did this, they also incorporated compost from the bins maturing next to the garden.

The next week, it had warmed enough that they removed the mulch from many of the crops such as the strawberries and the asparagus. The mulch was thriftily divided between the chickens, the goats, the pigs, and the rabbits. A bit of compost was worked into the ground above the asparagus and around the strawberries. “We covered both with compost last fall. Some of it worked itself in. Now, we do what we can without hurting the plants. It helps feed them.”

Then, it was time to plant those that could withstand any freeze that might take place. This meant some things such as cabbage, lettuce, chard, spinach, broccoli, and peas. These could take a freeze or late snow and keep on growing. Root crops would go in within a few weeks, and those requiring summer’s heat would wait until danger of frost was past.

Anne asked, “How do you know how long you must wait for those that are sensitive to frost and cold?”

John answered, “We keep track of it from year to year. Some years we guess wrong, or like the year when there was no summer, something changes the weather and there is nothing we can do. But, with our history of it, most times, we know about when in May we can safely plant.”

“What happens if a frost comes then?”

“Have you noticed the plants that turn dark and wither up? That is frost damage. It usually kills those sensitive to it. That’s why we wait. If frost threatens after we’ve planted, we are up early and cover all the plants with cloth. That will protect them if we don’t get a really deep freeze. It means we constantly watch what is going on with the weather. If we get a real cold snap and it freezes hard, we lose all the warm weather plants. The cool weather ones can even stand to have it snow on them. They’re quite different from one another.”

By the time Anne and Lady Rachel were ready to travel to London for Agatha’s wedding, all of the cool weather crops were in. Anne would observe the rest of the planting in May when the warm weather ones went in, including those that were already growing from seed in the hothouse such as cucumbers.

Anne and Lady Rachel enjoyed their travel to town. They found they were always able to entertain one another through the long, tedious days of the journey. This was a complete contrast to travel with Sir Walter and Elizabeth. Nell and Sally traveled with them but the carriage was not overly full. It was still with relief that they saw the grey stone buildings indicating London in the distance. So, once again they found themselves at the home of Hugh and Margaret for a family wedding. At least this time, Sir Walter and Elizabeth were already in town in their own establishment. They had been invited to attend and would be there because it would look odd not to do so.

Shortly after Lady Rachel and Anne arrived, the Ackermans hosted a dinner for the extended family. The Stanleys were in town for the Season, so everyone was there to welcome Joshua to the family. The extended Ackerman family was there too, so there were a great many people at the dinner, so many that both Sir Walter and Elizabeth were essentially ignored. They were of far less importance than many of lower rank who were closer friends and family. Sir Walter was amazed that a barrister could be of more importance than himself. He thought, “What is the world coming to that these people do not realize the importance of rank? Only Lord Derby and Lord Stanley outrank me. I should be given much more deference.”

Elizabeth spent the dinner trying to determine if any of the friends of the Ackermans or her cousins were of sufficient rank to interest her. When she thought she might have found one, she found herself unable to capture his attention. It was really quite frustrating. To make matters worse, Anne was constantly attended to by one cousin or another, while few even bothered to speak to her. Neither she nor her father enjoyed the meal in spite of the fine food that was served.

As long as they were in town, Lady Rachel insisted that she and Anne obtain at least one new gown in the latest fashion. They could wear it to the wedding and add it to their wardrobe for events in the spring and summer this year. Their first day in town found them at the modiste, with a return trip to pick up the finished items two days later.

When the long awaited day arrived, Agatha was both nervous and excited. Her mother did her best to calm her and offered all the usual advice a bride receives before her wedding. Agatha heard nothing of it. However, she trusted and she and Joshua would be able to make everything work out all right. Her nerves miraculously left her as she placed her hand on her father’s arm and began to pace down the aisle toward Joshua.

Once the ceremony was complete, all retired to the Ackerman home for a lovely wedding breakfast. After a couple of hours, Joshua and Agatha entered his carriage and headed off to his townhouse to start their life together. Everyone joined together to wish them well and send them on their way. The Stevensons and Stanleys returned to the Stanley’s home to spend the rest of the day together. Lady Matilda felt a little empty that all of her children were now gone. Her only worry was from Percy serving on the continent.

After the wedding, none of them felt like lingering in a town that was beginning to give hints of the heat of summer to come although it was still only late April. They returned to South Park as swiftly as they were able.
 

Frederick's American Café

A quick shout-out to Nikita who was not only kind enough to peer review this story, but also resourceful enough to find someone to translate phrases into German for me. Yay Nikita!


Note to readers: This story is set in North Africa during WWII. It contains Nazism, anti-semitism and other bigotry, homosexuality, adultery and gun violence.

Note to readers: The story includes a few French and German phrases. To save on the use of footnotes, the ABBR tag hides the English translation. Mouse-over the foreign phrase to see the English text. This is not available on all readers.

Chapter 3

The airstrip was the only show in town on Thursday mornings. The strip was a couple miles from the square, on a flat stretch of land next to the train tracks. In addition to the tarmac and runway, there was a hangar and a building it shared with the train where people could buy tickets and wait impatiently to leave for Tunis.


The aircraft, laden with supplies from Marrakech, arrived amid cheers and applause. It was quickly voided of its cargo by native porters, and it took on a ragtag collection of correspondence, marketable goods, and debris in exchange. Occasionally, and with great fanfare, people travelled to and from Avamposto Calce via plane.


Frederick was always there, making sure bottles or even whole crates of his shipment didn't sprout legs and walk away. He also had payment and a new list of supplies for the next week to hand to the pilot.


Like clockwork, Hemmert was there too. The German had a telegraph station in his office but there were some letters and official communications that did not transmit on a wire. He also liked to be seen keeping an eye on things.


Croft was there as often as not, which included today. He and his wife were voracious readers and curious of current events even though they were so far removed from them as to be gruesome fairy tales. They subscribed to a number of newspapers and periodicals, and enjoyed a far-reaching web of literary correspondents. Every week brought a new stack of papers and, as Croft pointed out, the already dated news would be ancient history if he sat at home and waited for it to be delivered.


Croft was quick today. He did not linger to chat but swapped one parcel for another and returned to his wife.


Frederick's stay was longer, to match the size of his delivery. He noticed Hemmert trying to catch his eye and decided it would be faster and more prudent to let the German have his say now, rather than dragging it back to the café.


At a slight nod from Frederick, Hemmert began. "What do you think of Herr Wilkes?"


He had been too open last night and it was coming back to haunt him. "I like his money." That was true enough.


"We are the same, you and I, Wentworth. I do not trust him. He is hiding something, I am sure of it."


Frederick felt a moment of pity. The larger war had absorbed all available men. Avamposto Calce was too remote, lacking in resources or any strategic importance to merit more than a token show of force. As the sole Gestapo at this assignment, Hemmert had a lonely existence. There was none of his own kind here to whom he might unburden himself. The native population reviled him quietly but in equal measure to his own convictions of a supreme race. His closest relationships were with Croft, with whom he shared an amiable enmity, and Frederick, who did all in his power to stay uninvolved.


"You were at a poker game. Of course he was hiding something." Even Frederick had felt the paranoia of desolation from time to time out here.


"It is more than that. There is something about him. A look... It reminds me of a dangerous man. Help me investigate him."


"No," Frederick refused. It was one thing to be united in dislike against Anne's fiancé. Frederick was honest enough with himself to admit that he would despise on principle whatever man she eventually married.


Since he had learned last night that Anne was to marry Wilkes, Frederick had reexamined every stray observation he had heard of the couple from the staff at The American, trying to figure out why Anne had decided to marry this man and not him. He had heard of no tender scenes being interrupted, no warm looks passing between them despite Wilkes' claim of love at first sight. It made such a sharp contrast with Frederick's own whirlwind courtship of Anne, when he had kissed her in front of every fountain in  Rome, that it looked suspicious. But perhaps she was being circumspect to spare Frederick's feelings, not that she had cared much about them when she had broken off their engagement. Or perhaps he was remembering her wrong, or perhaps she had grown colder with age.


But as much as he hated the thought that she had moved on, he wouldn't spy on the man for Germany. It was wrong of Croft to remind him last night, but America had taken a side, and if Frederick were to help anyone, it wouldn't be the Axis.


"I'm not asking you to do much," Hemmert clarified.


"I'm not doing anything. I'm not turning my customers over to the Gestapo!"


Hemmert hissed at him. "Keep your voice down. I don't want word getting back to him. I want your help, Herr Wentworth, but I do not need it. I will investigate him regardless. And if I find out you have been aiding and abetting a traitor ro a criminal--"


"You know me better than that," Frederick reminded him. "I help nobody but myself."

---

Returning to the hotel from the airstrip, Frederick saw the pacing shadow of a woman stretching out of his office door.


This was a paradox. Obviously, it was Anne waiting to talk to him. Equally obvious were the orders and threats he had levelled at Harville to keep her out of his office.


“Get out, Anne,” he told her as he strode in angrily, leaving the door ajar for her convenience. “You weren’t welcome here yesterday, and you aren’t welcome here today.”


It was not Anne after all. It was Elizabeth Elliot, and it was not just her cigarette fuming after a greeting like that.


“I can see why my sister refused to speak with you," she stifled a sneer. "Tell me, Mr. Wentworth, are you intentionally rude to your guests or have you spent so much time beyond the reach of civilization that you’ve forgotten how to act around a lady?”


“Show me a lady and we’ll find out.”


She glared venomously. Honestly, what response did she expect with a loaded question like that?


“I see I’ve wasted my time trying to talk with you,” she grit out. “I should have gone straight to Herr Hemmert to report the thief in your hotel.” She stood up and would have walked out but he blocked her way.


“What’s this about a thief?” Much as he resented it, she had his full and undivided attention. As a rule, thieves were bad for business.


She smiled thinly from her position of superiority and took a seat. “Someone broke into our hotel room yesterday evening while we were with Mrs. Croft and stole items from my sister and myself. Who knows what else they may have taken from your other guests?”


“What did they take?”


“Jewelry and a scarf from me,” she listed. “Anne’s perfume and passport.”


“Her passport!” The rest could be lumped in as trinkets, but the passport was another matter. If he didn’t find it quickly, Hemmert would have to be called in.


“And some of my jewelry,” Elizabeth reiterated with annoyance. “Obviously I didn’t bring the important family pieces to Africa, but I found a pair of ruby earrings in a bazaar that I’ve grown quite attached to. Are you aware there is a thief preying upon your guests, Mr. Wentworth?”


“Let me do some digging,” he said. “Chances are, it was all a misunderstanding.” If he could find the items quickly, he might be able to pass it off as an accident or a joke.


“A misunderstanding! You really have grown out of touch out here.”


“Give me until one o'clock. If I don’t find your property by then, I’ll go to Hemmert myself.” It was a stall, but she bought it and returned to her room to await his failure.


Frederick sat in his office, wracking his brain, for as long as it took her to climb the stairs to the second floor. Then he was off like a shot, hunting down Harville to see if either of the maids hadn’t shown up for work this morning. The maids checked out, so he went to the bar to see if Charlie had noticed anything suspicious. A few steps in and he stopped. Anne was here in the café, he could feel it.


He cast about for a sight of her but she was hidden behind the Thursday lunch crowd. The only woman he saw was Lulu coming toward him.


Lulu Argile, the French chanteuse, had been at The American for almost eight years. Brought here by her sugar daddy, then abandoned by him, she was always on the lookout for her next provider. Her interest in Frederick dated from the morning he had taken over the café but memories of his heartbreak were still fresh. Lulu had a cursory resemblance to Anne and he didn't want to feel like he was settling for a poor substitute. Over time, he had come to realize that Lulu was inferior in other ways -- even more fickle and duplicitous -- making her completely unsuitable for him. In all this time, he had never met someone to outshine the Anne he remembered, and now it struck him as a wasteful comparison. The Anne he remembered didn't exist, and the Anne who did exist had moved on.


Lulu continued to approach him. Always a magpie in search of sparkly trinkets and new things, she was no doubt hoping that something had arrived for her in the morning's shipment. Suddenly, his senses were overwhelmed by the presence of Anne. It was just like the trick she pulled when she had checked in. The air was thick with her perfume.


Her perfume was stolen last night, the rational part of his brain whispered as Lulu reached him.


"Patron," she said, "did my new sheet music arrive?"


He looked at her in wonder. There was something different about her, if only he could put his finger in it.


"Lu--" he began and stopped. The air was thick with Anne's perfume, as if she was standing before him. He leaned into the chanteuse and inhaled.


There it was! The scent! Memories washed over him almost faster than he could contain them: the first time they had bumped into each other, throwing coins into the fountain, kissing her to make her wish come true despite the approving wolf whistles of the Italian men who saw them.


"You like my new perfume." His reaction was too blatant to question it.


"In my office, now."


She smiled coquettishly. "It's not even noon." The timing didn't thwart her.


Frederick gripped her upper arm. "Toute de suite!" he repeated with quiet force, pulling her through the crowd to his private room.


Lulu went along, not exactly willingly, not exactly putting up a fight. There was no cause yet to make a scene, and she had her dignity to maintain.


Behind a closed door, however, she quickly yanked her arm free and scolded him for laying a hand on her. "What if there's a bruise?" she snapped.


"Who gave you that perfume?" Frederick demanded.


Lulu showed a little nervousness. "An admirer," was all she would admit to.


"An admirer who's a thief," he expanded for her. "One who's going to bring Hemmert down hard on The American, and you can bet you're the first person to be sacrificed for protecting him."


Lulu was rattled, but not yet enough to confess. Frederick pressed on.


"One of the Elliot sisters just came to see me, said their room had been burgled. We have an hour to return their property before she takes the case to Hemmert: earrings, scarf, passport and perfume."


"I only have the bottle of perfume." She was cracking.


"But you know who has the rest, and you can bet that's what I'll tell Hemmert when he comes calling. Who is to say you aren't in cahoots?"


He could read the thoughts flitting across her face. "I could tell him you did it." As far as threats went, it was empty.


"Then he'd know you were lying. I was in the bar all last night keeping an eye on Hemmert and the rest of them."


He let her absorb her options, because there was really only one outcome.


"Let me ask him," she said simply and let herself out.


It was implied that Frederick should not follow, but had he been forced to swear on his mother's grave, he would still have broken that vow to trail after her. There was a thief stealing from his customers and he needed to know who. It was bad for business. When he found out who it was, he'd have a quiet talk with the guy and see to it he was never allowed in The American again.

AN: Thanks for you comments and input. I really enjoyed them.
___________________________

Chapter 15

The morning after her arrival, Lady Rachel and Anne took Lady Rachel’s carriage to Monkford to introduce Lady Rachel and the Captain. Captain and Mr. Wentworth exited the building upon seeing the carriage draw up outside his home. Anne introduced everyone after the driver helped the women exit the carriage. After greetings were exchanged, Mr. Wentworth showed everyone into the house. Mr. Wentworth bowed then said, “I will be working in my study should you need me. I am sure the three of you have much to discuss.”

The rest sat themselves comfortably in the parlor. Lady Rachel had Anne sit next to her and took her hand in hers. The Captain sat in the chair facing the two women.

Lady Rachel began, “Captain, I am pleased to meet you. I hope Anne has shared my letter with you. You are probably surprised at the lack of support from Sir Walter, but I am not. You do not yet have sufficient rank for him to deign to notice you. If you were less good looking than you are, you would have received even more opposition.”

The Captain smiled at that. “I had noticed his tendency to judge everything by how it looks.”

Lady Rachel responded, “Looks are as important as rank, for him. And increased rank improves looks. In any case, I know you are probably surprised. Anne isn’t valued, but Sir Walter values the Eliot name. As you saw in my letter, I think it prudent to wait until Anne is of age for two reasons. One, we can then force him to provide her dowry. He can withhold it until then. But more important, it will give Anne time to learn new skills. I have had friends in her position. When you are in foreign parts together, she will need to have skills in homemaking and budgeting that are generally not taught to ladies of our rank. Let her learn them. If you have made your fortune by the time you marry, it will not have hurt her to acquire these new skills. If you are still climbing the ranks, it will make your life together more comfortable.”

Anne said, “We discussed this when I received your letter. You bring up some good points we had not considered. I believe you are correct that acquiring skills like cooking, learning to design and sew basic clothing, cleaning and such would be good for me to learn. Should we be stationed away from England, these will be excellent skills to have.”

Captain Wentworth added, “I do not like the idea of having to wait, but I can see the sense in it. Would you have us stay here until I get orders and then remove Anne to your home?”

Lady Rachel answered, “That is one option, if you wish to continue your visit to your brother. The other is for you to cut your visit short and come to South Park. You can stay in the main house with my son’s family while Anne returns with me to the dower house. You can continue your courting and engagement under the eye of her uncle, rather than her father, where it will not be viewed with so much resentment.”

He turned to look at Anne with a question on his face. She said, “I think our visits together will be far more pleasant there than they will be here. With both Father and Lady Russell opposed, I will be hearing negative things whenever anyone here speaks to me. The only place we have any joy in our engagement is here in Monkford. Would you be willing to cut the visit with your brother short?”

He said, “Of course I would, Anne. You are of far greater importance to me than an extra month with my brother. Let me go talk with Edward.” He immediately followed his brother into the study. He returned within a few moments and continued, “It is settled. When would you like to leave, Lady Rachel?”

“The imp in me would like to stay long enough for Sir Walter to be very uncomfortable, but that would require that Anne be unhappy. Let us leave the day after tomorrow.”

He answered, “I can follow a few days after that. Lady Rachel, you cannot know how much I appreciate your support for Anne. I fear that Lady Russell’s arguments about how it would be much better for me to move through the ranks unencumbered would have eventually convinced Anne to do the noble thing and give me up. That would make both of us very unhappy. This way, we have a goal in mind-two years from now-and can make plans for reaching that goal.”

Lady Rachel nodded, “Anne is so young, it is hard to withstand the persuasions of those who love her, or should love her, and stand firm against them. She had mentioned you in her earlier letters, so I know more about you than you may realize. After her second letter, I suspected her attraction. I had her uncle do a little investigating. I am more than pleased with what he learned.”

Anne was shocked and said, “Grandmother, whatever do you mean?”

“Hugh frequently hires private inquiry agents for his clients. I had him employ one to investigate the Captain. Everything he learned was very positive. He is an admirable young man. And a commander’s pay is sufficient for a very modest living.”

Anne replied, “Combined with investments from his most recent prize capture, we can be more than modestly comfortable.”

Captain Wentworth blushed at this praise. He was secretly relieved that someone in the family valued Anne highly enough to take steps to ensure he was suitable and said, “Actually, I am grateful. It is good to see that someone cares enough for Anne to be sure I would make an acceptable husband for her. ”

Lady Rachel laughed and replied, “You shall see. The rest of the family loves Anne. She is a valued family member in the Stevenson clan. My sons and daughter all enjoy her company. You will find us quite different from the Elliots. I am glad to hear that you have prize money investments. I will admit that it does ease my mind somewhat. I assume this just happened?”

“Yes. During the battle at Santo Domingo, our ship was heavily involved and our captain fatally injured. I took over command, and a battlefield promotion to commander was confirmed by the admiral at the end of the action. As the fighting continued, it was apparent that our damages were significant. I notified the admiral who commanded that we put in to shore and make repairs. Since a commander does not command a ship of the line, we were ordered to return to England once repairs were complete so that a new captain could be assigned. We completed the repairs over the course of about 2 weeks. Just as we left port, we chanced upon a French merchantman who had just collected cargo bound for France. We were able to capture her and bring her along as we returned to England. Since it was outbound with full cargo, we were lucky in the amount awarded. They made an unfortunate tack that allowed us to catch and board them. With full cargo, the prize money was more than expected. If it weren’t for Miss Anne, I would likely have spent a large portion. As it is, if I am prudent with it, we should be comfortable together although I will need to use some of it in my new command. I already know of one difference between the families. Anne says that her charity work is just following in your footsteps and those of her mother. I know her sister does not bother with it, and yet it fills many of her days. That says much for the heart of the Stevensons compared with that of the Elliots. Also, it seems from our conversations that the Stevensons enjoy keeping up with current events while the rest of the Elliots do not.”

Lady Rachel said, “I recall reading about that capture. How fortunate for all of us that you were there. I am glad you understand the importance of what Anne does. Elizabeth, her mother, was very like her. Elizabeth, her sister, could not be more different. I wish she had taken more after her mother, but there is nothing I can do there. She is her own woman and does as she pleases. I believe that those of us with means have a responsibility to help those who are struggling. And yes, we do follow the news. We shall be interested to read of your future exploits.”

During that dialogue, Edward returned from the study and joined the conversation at that point. “Miss Anne is an excellent example of the embodiment of the Good Samaritan. She provides the means, sometimes great, sometimes small, to alleviate the suffering of those around us. All of us who work with her enjoy her company. She never makes those she assists feel that they are unimportant or an imposition. She has been a great asset to our communities here and all will miss her.”

Lady Rachel replied with a smile, “Well, all except her family. They hardly notice her.”

Frederick added, “That is unfortunate but true.”

Anne blushed and shifted the talk to those most in need in Monkford so that Edward could tend to them after her departure. They visited for a while longer before Anne and Lady Rachel returned to Kellynch. After luncheon, Lady Rachel planned to tackle Sir Walter head on and wanted to rest and refresh herself before she did.

 
Chapter 16

Sir Walter and Elizabeth determined to visit friends so as to avoid Lady Rachel and were therefore gone when the other two returned to Kellynch. They enjoyed a quiet luncheon together, and then Anne went to her room to begin packing her things. Lady Rachel read in the parlor until she heard the carriage indicating the return of the other inhabitants. She went to the entry to greet them and corner Sir Walter.

“Elizabeth, Walter, did you have a nice visit? Walter, I would like a word with you, if you please.”

Both indicated that their visit had been pleasant. Elizabeth continued into the parlor, while Lady Rachel indicated a passageway that led to the study. Sir Walter reluctantly led the way. Since his mother-in-law was of higher rank, and was still quite good looking, he had always tended to feel somewhat ill-at-ease around her. He knew he had to defer to her, even with his wife dead, and he feared her outspokenness.

Lady Rachel sat in one of the arm chairs and Sir Walter took the seat opposite her. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

She sat quiet for almost a minute before replying. “Walter, I understand that Anne’s young man does not yet have sufficient wealth or position for you to notice him. I have offered Anne a home with me for the next two years so she can learn skills appropriate for his lifes. He is well thought of and I think he will manage to make himself quite well off, so they will be quite comfortable. In the meantime, Anne can live with me until she comes of age. However, I expect that when she turns twenty one, they will marry. And you will turn over her dowry as specified in Elizabeth’s marriage settlement. Once Anne is of age, if she chooses to marry, that money is hers. I hope you remembered that.”

“I think she can do much better. To ally herself with a common sailor is a denigration of the Elliot name.”

“I know you think that. You have stated as much every time you have seen the girl. But you did not answer my question. You do plan to turn over that money, don’t you? I do not want to have to take legal action to compel you, but I will if I must.”

Reluctantly, he replied, “Yes, I remember. I did not think Anne was aware of the terms of the settlement. I do not want her to make a mistake when she could do so much better.”

“Anne is very fortunate to have found an ambitious, honorable man who cares deeply for her. I know you loved Elizabeth, in your own way, but I do not think you appreciate how rare it is to find someone who appreciates one for who one is the way Captain Wentworth does Anne. So many society weddings are mergers of family or money. There is love and respect in their relationship which gives a greater chance of them being happy together through the rest of their lives.”

Ignoring that comment, he continued, “So you will take Anne with you? Do not expect me to provide for her when she is living in your home. If she wants to ignore the wishes of her father, I wash my hands of her.”

“You needn’t worry Walter. I love Anne and will care for her. You and Elizabeth are welcome to visit us if you wish. Since you have never bothered to visit since your wife’s passing, I shall be surprised if you do show up. However, I expect Mary to come during the holidays as usual. We will leave day after next. Anne needs time to pack her belongings and say her farewells.”

That said, Lady Rachel rose from the chair, took another look at Sir Walter, shook her head and left the room. She headed straight to Anne’s room. Elizabeth saw her leave and went to find out what had happened. When her father was done, she said, “Well, at least we are done with Anne’s disapproving comments and presence. I am sure our next shooting party will be much nicer with her gone.”

“You know it means no more background music, though. People seem to appreciate her playing.”

Elizabeth replied, “That will hardly matter. No one will notice her absence.”

In Anne’s room, Lady Rachel sat and watched as Anne continued to determine what to take and what to discard as Lady Rachel summarized the conversation. Lady Rachel finished with, “I am sure I have said nothing of which you were not aware.”

Anne sighed. “No. It is just that there are times I wish Father liked me more. I would like to be missed, but I suspect my absence will rather be appreciated by Elizabeth. She does not like my company.”

“The more fool she,” responded Lady Rachel. “In any case, at South Park, you are appreciated and we all enjoy your company. And visiting with the Captain there, rather than here, will be much more enjoyable.”

“Thank you Grandmother. You are certainly correct in that. Since the engagement, both Father and Lady Russell have been uncomfortable to be around. Elizabeth is far more critical too. Well, I think I have determined which dresses to leave behind,” she said indicating a pile in the corner.
“Do you agree?”

Lady Rachel looked over the pile and said, “I think she is jealous that you are engaged and she is not. I think you have chosen well. They will be hard to make over, as you learn those skills, and are not really in style any longer. These are from the end of your school days, are they not?”

“Yes. I no longer wear them. They were just taking up space. Perhaps one of the maids can make use of them or the fabric.”

Anne then rang for a maid to remove the discards and pack the remainder. She and Lady Rachel retired to the music room while the maid accomplished that. There, Anne looked through the music and selected some of her favorites to take with her. Since Elizabeth no longer played, and Mary was away at school, no one would miss the music. She did leave a few of the simpler, more popular pieces so that any visitors would have something to play. As they looked through the music, Anne played a few pieces for her grandmother.

Dinner was a rather strained affair. Sir Walter feared Lady Rachel would make her usual cutting comments on his accustomed topics of conversation and so was at a loss as to what they could talk of. Elizabeth ignored her grandmother and talked mainly of their plans for fall shooting parties. Lady Rachel contributed occasionally, so as usual, it was left to Anne to help carry the conversation forward. If she mentioned anything other than the shooting party, though, Elizabeth ignored the comment. Finally, dinner was over and Lady Rachel retired to her room as it had been a long day. Anne followed suit, not wanting to hear the criticisms from her father and sister.

The next day, Lady Rachel and Anne finished the packing by going through the library selecting some of her favorite volumes. No one else had ever read them, so they would not be missed. Then the wagon with her trunks left. Together, they paid calls on various friends, tenants, and others who had frequently benefitted from Anne’s visits to say her goodbyes. Last of all they stopped in Monkford to say farewell to Mr. Wentworth. He promised to see her again upon her marriage to his brother. They also stopped in at Uppercross to say farewell to the Musgroves.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon with Lady Russell. Lady Russell was at first surprised at Anne’s decision. As Lady Rachel outlined the proposed course of study to help Anne acquire skills that would enable her to be successful whatever the Captain’s station, Lady Russell began to thaw in her opposition.

“Do you really think he will make her happy? He is so far from successful at this stage.”

“Yes, I do. He has risen through the ranks quite successfully so far. With the various wars, the navy offers an excellent opportunity for wealth and advancement. However, if Anne were to journey with him away from England, she would find it difficult to make a comfortable home. I will help her acquire the skills that will enable her to do that no matter their situation. And he now has an incentive to be successful other than his own ambition. That will provide an extra drive for success.”

“All I have ever wanted for Anne was a happy situation where she is appreciated.”

“The Captain does appreciate her. I think they have every chance for happiness.”

“Anne, I hope you understand that my opposition was not due to the Captain himself. I just want what is best for you and for you to be happy.”

Anne replied, “I do understand that. I think my best chance for that will be with the Captain.”

“Well, please write and let me know how you get on. I imagine learning these new things will be quite different from when you were in school.”

“I will write regularly. In some ways, I am going back to school, but this time will learn practical skills instead of ‘accomplishments.’ I am looking forward to it.”

Soon it was time to return to Kellynch for one last dinner. The final dinner at Kellynch was bittersweet for Anne. She was happy to get away from an atmosphere that was almost toxic, but sad that she would be losing this part of her family. Little notice was taken that this was her final dinner. Conversation once again centered around the hunting party that was to start within a few days. Elizabeth was much more concerned with the prospective suitors than the loss of her irrelevant sister.

Anne spent a few moments after dinner mentally saying goodbye to favorite haunts as she wandered through Kellynch’s rooms. She was ready to move into a new life with her grandmother and plan for her future with the Captain.

Early the next morning, Anne and Lady Rachel had a hearty breakfast alone together. As they finished, both Sir Walter and Elizabeth finally entered the breakfast room to say their farewells. After a few moments, Anne and her grandmother went out to the carriage, joined Sally in it, and left Kellynch. Anne was relieved to leave the strained atmosphere behind. They enjoyed the carriage ride to South Park, settling happily into residence together at the dower house once again.

Chapter 7

Letty and Beth continued to eagerly follow the progress of the war in France in the newspapers, marvelling that Napoleon Bonaparte had made his own people so sickened by war that no hindrance was placed in the way of the advancing armies of Wellington, Blucher and Prince Schwarzenberg.

“Listen to this,” said Letty, “ The paper says, ‘The Plymouth Telegraph announced yesterday the following important intelligence, which we immediately communicated to the public, though of course it could not be in the whole of our impression: ‘The South of France is in Insurrection against Buonoparte, and in favour of the Bourbons. Two Gentlemen arrived as Deputies from the Royalists, on the road to London.”

“Does it say who they are?” asked Beth.

“No, alas, no more was known when the paper went to press,” said Letty, “but I wager the war may be over by the end of March, God willing. It says many towns are raising the white cockade for the Bourbons, so this terrible bloodthirsty country may soon return to normal.”

“I hope so,” said Beth. “Whilst it is said that the French aristocracy was quite despotic and cruel, the Reign of Terror was more so, and the Monster Bonaparte was not to be satisfied until he ruled all the world, quite like the tales of Jengiz Khan!”

“And here is a report from the Dutch Papers,” said Letty. “It seems that Bonaparte’s men have been putting about reports that the French army, far from being in retreat, is winning, and there is an appeal to the soldiers of France, from Marshal Blucher, to disregard such lies, and save life by surrendering.”

“Too cruel!” said Beth. “Why, if such lies are believed, it will lead to unnecessary deaths on both sides.”
“Yes, and the negotiations for peace have broken down too,” said Letty. “The Monster is determined to drag it out for as long as he might.”

“Oh it is too bad; no wonder his own people have lost faith in him,” said Beth. “Is there anything more?”

“Only the usual idiotic letters from men who have never even been in the militia, suggesting how Lord Liverpool should direct Lord Wellington,” said Letty, dryly.

“Dear me, and doubtless it is some of people like that who managed to seize power during the Terror, and went mad with power,” said Beth. “I cannot say that rule by the people will ever work unless there are people chosen who are educated solely to rule, in the way that a monarch has his sons trained to rule, from birth. Which since the education of the great schools is aimed towards leadership, one might assume our own government to have been so trained.”

“Some better than others,” said Letty, dryly.

“True; but an infinitely preferable system to any that the French have managed so far,” said Beth.

“I cannot argue with that!” said Letty. “Oh! Listen to this tragedy; there has been an action between the packet, ‘The Duchess of Montrose’ and the sloop of war ‘Primrose’, each thinking the other to be the enemy, but how good it is to know our mails are well defended, for the packet made the sloop back off! Eight men killed and twenty-eight wounded in all.”

“How terrible! How could they mistake the colours of England for those of the enemy?” asked Beth.

“Who can say!” said Letty.

Edward called after breakfast, to take the ladies for a drive.

“And wrap up warmly,” he said, “it has been a hard frost, and the wind is chill.”

“I believe I may wrap a shawl around my head under my bonnet, if you do not mind, Edward,” said Beth.

“I think the better of you for having so much good sense,” said Edward. “If you choose a light one you may breathe through, you can also pull it over your face if the wind in your face makes breathing painful.”

“How thoughtful you are, Edward!” said Beth. “It is good to know that you are so sensible. I hope the officers in France are as sensible, and will keep their poor men as warm as possible. It cannot be easy for them, camped outside Paris.”
“No, indeed,” said Edward, “Though for all we know, they may be billeted within Paris by now; the news we get is always several days old, and I believe the last report was from the twenty-fourth.”

“Indeed, it is hard to wait for news, but of course infinitely harder for those who have husbands and sweethearts fighting,” said Beth.

“You are such a kind and thoughtful girl,” said Edward.

“Past my girlhood, I fear,” said Beth.

“Oh, you are a green girl from where I am looking,” said Edward.

“I am not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not,” said Beth.

“Oh, it is a compliment,” said Edward, and hurriedly changed the subject. “Have you heard of the great hoax?”

“No, what great hoax?” asked Beth.

“Why, it was put about on the twenty-first that Napoleon was certainly defeated, and it was all with the intent of raising the price of certain stocks to sell at profit!” said Edward. “Some fellow representing himself as the aide-de-camp of Lord Cathcart, newly come from France spread false intelligence!”

“My goodness, how bold!” said Beth. “We were moving on the twenty-first, if you recall, Edward, and must have missed the whole announcement. Though surely it only pre-empts the truth by a matter of a few weeks, so can it really be harmful?”

“Yes, because the lie manipulates the stock market falsely, and is therefore tantamount to stealing,” said Edward, “and it also throws doubt on true news, and leaves those who have relatives abroad left in a state of doubt and uncertainty, unsure what news to believe.”

“Oh! How dreadful for them, of course it must do,” said Beth. “Though I must say, the way stocks fluctuate in value seems very silly to me; for surely the price of things should be based merely on the labour it costs to produce them.”

“No, there are more things than that,” said Edward. “For example, with the coldest winter in living memory behind us, and spring not really advanced, it means the crops sown this year may not do as well, unless we have a hot summer, but with reasonable rainfall, to make up for late planting, and fruit trees unable to flower for the cold. That means food prices will rise, for not having as much to sell, including meat, whose winter fodder ran out for some farmers. And I believe many lambs have been lost too, to the cold.”

“Dear me, I had not considered that,” said Beth. “You are right; I am green.”

Edward laughed kindly.

“But you are clever, withal, and ready to learn, ready to listen, and you immediately understand a point when it is put to you,” he said.

“So how did thinking the war was over raise the price of stocks?” asked Beth.

“The stocks involved were in the public funds; so if the war was over, less would have to be paid out by the government, so more could be invested of the funds, so that their dividends would be likely to rise,” said Edward.

“Ah; now I understand perfectly,” said Beth. “And people would wish to invest to make sure of an income from the funds, and thus would enrich those selling their stocks. Though it is still only a matter of being premature, and unkind to those hoping to see loved ones home, but not really stealing, is it? Because the funds will go up when Bonaparte is defeated.”

“It’s underhand and lying,” said Edward, “because those who did it could not know for certain that Bonaparte was going to be defeated, and even now, on the last day of March, we cannot be sure. The negotiations might have only been a bluff on the part of that wily creature, and he may have some other army hidden, waiting to fall on our troops.”

“Surely Lord Bathurst would know?” put in Letty. “Mr Wickham reports to him, and he knows everything that goes on.”

“More than likely, but it’s more than he’s telling the rest of us,” said Edward. “Ah, and of course, Grayling Grey was a friend of his, I had forgotten.”

“Grey was a friend of a great number of people,” said Letty, demurely.

“Was he a spy?” asked Beth, interested.

“Now, that is not a question I ever asked him,” said Letty. “I would not have wanted him to feel he could not answer. He
was a good man and a good husband, and the thing that interested me most was that he did not have affaires when he was on a business trip abroad.”

“Sorry,” muttered Beth, burning red.

“You let your tongue run ahead of your good sense, sometimes, my dear,” said Letty.

“And I was too nosy not to see if you would answer, Aunt Letty,” said Edward.

“You are an impudent boy,” said Letty.

Edward chuckled.

“You noticed!”

---

Few other people had braved the cold to drive or ride in the park; Major Whittal was one of them, and he rode up to doff his hat and bow gracefully from the saddle, no mean feat to perform at all with one arm in a sling, and an adroit act to perform with grace and aplomb.

“Ladies! I see you are quite hardy!” he declared.

“Oh, we are country ladies, Major, and inured to inclement weather,” said Letty. “Tell us, as a military man, do you think that Blucher is in Paris by now?”

“Oh I am certain of it,” said the Major. “The French were on the run when I was sent home with despatches, and I cannot think of anything that would delay the advance into Paris. I heard a rumour that Bonaparte had received a mortal wound, but the man has as many lives as a cat, so I doubt its veracity. No such luck! But you ladies will have a chance to buy fashions in Paris before long, I make no doubt!” he bowed again and rode off.

“Do you like that fellow?” asked Edward.

“He his all that is amiable,” said Letty.

“He puts my teeth on edge,” said Beth.

Edward brightened.

“It’s not just me that wants to shake him to see if his air of perfection falls off then?” he said.

Beth laughed.

“He is very patronising to the ladies and our ‘pretty little heads’,” she said, “and I cannot for one moment see him explaining why the hoax was so wrong, because he wouldn’t expect a woman to be able to understand stocks at all.”

“You don’t, but at least you try,” said Edward. “And if you want to know more, you’ll need to ask a downier fellow than me; because I understand enough to know I can’t explain them.”

“It’s a wise man who knows his limitations,” said Beth, “and to be honest, I’m not that interested. If I want to know more, I’ll ask Elizabeth; she’s very clever.”

“Didn’t exchange more than a word or two with her to find out,” said Edward. “Wise of her not to mention it too freely though; being too clever frightens men off.”

“I told her to be frank about it,” said Beth. “That way she might meet a man who appreciates her for herself.”

“Hmmm,” said Edward, “There’s something in that. Not as though she has to marry, after all; her father’s as warm as Croesus. Huh, there’s that fellow Byseby that you played for at the musicale.”

“Yes, he is quite nice,” said Beth. “Rather put me in mind of the old gaffers who sit outside the Black Boar and pass comments on the ankles of girls who pass by and chuck the pretty ones under the chin if they come within reach.”
Edward started laughing, and was still fighting with his mirth as Lord Leomer Byesby rode up and raised his curly brimmed beaver.

“Are you quite all right, Brandon?” he asked.

Edward got himself under control.

“Perfectly, thank you, Byesby,” he said. “Something Miss Renfield was telling me, about some village worthies, which struck me as more hilarious than I think she intended. I didn’t look for you to be abroad in this chill weather.”

“Oh, I like to blow away the fug of the gambling dens from time to time,” said Lord Leomer. “Wanted to pay my respects to Mrs Grey; I knew Grey quite well, you see,” he added. “And of course the lovely pianist, Miss Renfield!” he bowed again.

“I am sorry I never met you when he was alive,” said Letty. “He had so many friends though.”

“And some of us appreciated him for himself as well as his generosity,” said Lord Leomer. “I wasn’t in debt to him when he died. Not like some, I could mention.”

“There was nothing in his papers of that,” said Letty.

“No; Grey kept all he loaned in his head,” said Lord Leomer. “And I believe I can repay the debt of friendship that he extended by making sure that others remember that they should recall what they owe.”

“There is no need, my lord; Grey left me very comfortably off,” said Letty.

“Oh, it will be a pleasure,” said Lord Leomer. “One of those who conveniently forgot is a close personal enemy of mine.”

“You’re an odd sort of fellow, Byesby,” said Edward.

“Devilishly so,” agreed Lord Leomer. “Your servant!” and he raised his hat again and rode off.

“Dear me!” said Letty. “What an uncomfortably attractive man, to be sure!”

“I would have strongly advised Beth against forming a tendre for him had she not described him in the way she did,” said Edward. “He is still an attractive man, even though he is in his forties; which is not so old.”

“Oh, it was not precisely his age,” said Beth, “Though I confess it would not occur to me to look at a man of his years in the light of being a beau! It was more that the gaffers would run a mile if any of the bold milkmaids offered them more than a screech and a playful smack when they importune them, and it strikes me that Lord Leomer is particularly good at Spanish coin to the ladies, and has no intention of being actually cornered by any of them.”

“He has a reputation as a rake,” said Edward. “Also as a gambler. I should worry if he became an intimate of the family, Aunt Letty.”

“Oh, I daresay Grey bankrolled him because he had a good fund of stories,” said Letty. “He seems to be the sort of man who can make himself tolerably agreeable; and Grey loved to be gregarious. He would have looked upon a loan to a man who entertained him as fair exchange for the pleasure of his company, even if it was never paid back.”

“I suppose it is a measure of him that he wishes you to know that he is not indebted to Grey,” said Edward, reluctantly.

“Can’t make him out! And by the way, shall we go home? My prads don’t like this wind much.”

“By all means!” said Beth, smiling at him. “It would not do to let them take cold!”


Chapter 8

Elizabeth’s parents were hosting an April Fool’s Ball, which, said the invitation, was an excuse to wear silly masks and a domino, and only those people personally known to them to be invited, so there was no risk involved. There would be prizes for the most decorative mask, the most humorous, and the most grotesque and those invited were asked to decorate their own.

This was great fun, and Letty and Beth had much fun discussing what to do.

“Of course the Venetian masks of earlier times were quite fantastical,” said Beth, “and what fun it would have been, were feathers not such a bane to me, to have gone as a chicken!”

“That would surely have carried the prize for the most humorous,” said Beth. “I believe I might have a pink domino, and put a pig’s snout on my mask, for the only other think I can think of is to make the mask into a cat’s face, and that is so ordinary. Or – wait, I know, I have seen some most entertaining gargoyles on some of the London churches, I shall be a gargoyle, and wear a grey domino. We hire them, do we not?”

“Some will purchase them, but I see no point for a single night, and you might wear it over a lavender gown which will go well enough with the grey,” said Letty. “We may have to settle for plain black ones, which are most common, but it does not matter. Masks and dominos are to be laid aside before supper. An excellent idea, it prevents too much rowdiness building up before the unmasking, young men being young men; and moreover means they have no chance to slip away and hide any overly high spirits in anonymity. Anyone missing for supper at a private masquerade would be noticeable by their absence, and anyone would then know if that individual and his mask had been at all inappropriate in behaviour. I am glad that Mrs Medlicott specifies dominos not fancy dress too. Hats are permitted, I see, so that will be a means by which one might also express a character. Dear me! I fancy most people will choose characters from the classics or the comedia del’ arte and I shall go as the notorious medieval witch and prophet, Mother Shipton. I will fashion a huge nose and have a hairpiece of straggling black hair, which will be quite sufficient with a black domino. We had better get to work! Mrs Medlicott plainly expects all her guests to make their own masks on a basic loo mask, for there is no time to have one made, and I am glad, otherwise it would be the wealthiest who would show the best masks. She is a very sensitive woman.”

“I expect that she recalls a time before she was so plump in the pocket,” said Beth.

“Indeed, I am sure you have the right of it, for she was, I believe, the daughter of a minor squire in straitened circumstance when Medlicott married her, and if it was an arranged marriage, it has turned out most fortuitously,” said Letty. “For she and Medlicott are plainly very fond of each other.”

“And such kind parents without being doting,” said Beth. “I am glad, though, that they listened to Elizabeth and got rid of that awful woman who was grinding her down; she stutters less now.”

“Which is good,” said Letty.

A masked ball was exciting, and just a little scary; and Beth hoped that she would be able to guess who everyone was. Letty insisted that Edward go on his own, as they had John Coachman to drive them, so that they had to guess him too. Beth wondered if he would come as Oliver Cromwell after their discussion the other day; but it seemed unlikely without consultation with her, and moreover this was not full fancy dress, it being an impromptu affair.
The dominos were largely black, a few red, some blue, some white, and one person wearing one each of red, white and blue, tacked together to make one domino, with a bicorn hat and a fair caricature of Napoleon Bonaparte on vellum cut as a mask, and a pair of devil horns out of the front of the hat. The wearer struck postures such as Bonaparte was portrayed striking. Beth thought it likely to be one of the very young men, like Mr Dansey or Mr Chetwode, but probably Mr Dansey, as the figure was not as tall as she recalled Mr Chetwode to be.

“The enemy of mankind!” she declared, cheerfully, “or so say the papers; I think I know you.”
Napoleon the devil bowed.

“Oh, fair gargoyle, I believe I know that voice,” he said. It was Mr Dansey. “May I claim you for the first dance?”

“I should be delighted,” said Beth.

“Alas! I had hoped I might claim the first dance,” said a black domino, whose mask was flesh coloured velvet with an eyepatch. He also wore a bicorn hat on which were pinned a paper skull and crossbones. The voice, Beth thought, belonged to Edward.

“And would you be any particular pirate, sir, whom I think I know, or just a pirate without a name?” she asked. It was part of the etiquette of the masque to use a phrase like ‘do I know you?’ or ‘I think I know you’ when holding a conversation with a masked member of the opposite sex.

“Alas, I am but a pirate without a name, since I could not recall the particulars or look of any real pirate,” said Edward.

“As I am certain that I know you, I shall claim the second dance, and the supper dance.”

Beth solemnly inscribed ‘A nameless pirate’ on her dance card for those two dances, and ‘Napoleon Bonaparte’ on the first. She was relieved that none of the dances were waltzes in the modern fashion, and thought again how thoughtful Mrs Medlicott was to make sure that no possible impropriety might occur. It would be too easy, in concealing dominos, for bold behaviour to occur during a dance in which the gentleman’s hands familiarly held one.

Beth took the opportunity to look around and see who she might recognise. There were a lot of masks just decorated with beads, sequins, feathers and ribbons, a few men with masks painted like Grimaldi the clown, and one who was easy to identify as Major Whittal, who had made a virtue of his disabled arm, coming with a flesh coloured mask with an eyepatch, a bicorn hat with gold braid, and quite obviously meant to be the late Admiral Lord Nelson.

The beautiful and fantastical bird almost had to be Elizabeth, Beth recognised her upright and graceful carriage, and that had to be Abigail beside her, using her fan with aplomb, with her mask decorated as a butterfly. Who was the tall, elegant lady dressed in a white domino, with a white mask, powdered hair, and a hat that suggested that she was a multi-layered cake with icing? Could it really be Madelaine Vardy, able to stand tall when no-one knew who she was?
Why it had to be! How much more confident she managed to be when she felt herself to be anonymous!

“Fair gargoyle!” a voice she did not know. “I do not know you, for I have not been presented, I think, but might I take advantage to make myself know to you? I am as you may guess Julius Caesar.”

The mask was painted in the semblance of a carved stone statue, and the man wore a laurel wreath, and he wore a grey domino.

“What, are you weeny, weedy and weaky?” laughed Beth. “Which is the extent of my knowledge of Latin, I fear.”

“Ah, Veni, Vedi, Vici,” said Julius Caesar. “I came, I saw, I conquered. I wonder if I do conquer well enough, Madam La Grotesque, to claim a dance?”

“Most certainly, Mighty Caesar,” said Beth. “I’m a gargoyle.”

“Ah, a specific kind of ecclesiastical grotesque,” said Julius Caesar. “Only a woman of perfect serenity could bear a mask that is a mockery of the human form, and I salute you. Pray tell me, is the pirate your brother, that he looks on me with such enmity?”

“Why no, I have no brothers,” said Beth. “He is a distant connection of mine, and an old family friend.”

“Then he looks to your protection from an unknown piece of statuary,” said Julius Caesar. “Shall I tell him that my antecedents are impeccable and that I am a man of honour?”

“If he cannot guess that, from Mrs Medlicott making assurance that only persons known to her would attend, then his wits have gone begging,” said Beth, recklessly, hoping that Edward was jealous.

“Oh, Amabel – Mrs Medlicott – is my cousin,” said Julius Caesar. “I shall be doing duty as an honorary brother to Elizabeth, though it seems odd to think of little Lizzy all grown up and beautiful! Last time I saw her, I’m afraid I tied her to a tree by her plaits.”

“Unkind!” declared Beth.

“It was at least half her fault; she was boasting about how long they were,” said Julius Caesar. “And I was only eighteen and felt that a fourteen-year-old cousin was a bit of a pest.”

“Well, if Elizabeth has forgiven you, it is all that matters,” said Beth.

“She appears to have done,” said Julius Caesar, “however if, when I go to bed, I find a jug of water balanced on the door, or an apple-pie bed or something, I shall preserve a dignified silence on the same, and hold her to be well avenged.”

“I shall go and suggest it to her,” said Beth brightly.

“Fair unkind!” cried Julius Caesar with a dramatic gesture that almost whacked a gentleman with a large nosed mask and a cavalier’s hat, who almost had to be Cyrano de Bergerac.

“OY!” said the voice of Mr Chetwode.

“Oh, Mr Ch…er, I mean, I seem to know you, M. de Bergerac,” said Beth, “would you escort me to Elizabeth, so I might tell her that she owes her cousin a practical joke?”

“Right willingly, Miss, er, statue,” said Mr Chetwode.

“Gargoyle,” said Beth.

“Oh, yes, couldn’t remember what they were called,” said Mr Chetwode.

Elizabeth embraced Beth.

“You and Mrs Grey are very brave to come with such hideous masks!” she said. “I wish I were so self-confident!”
Beth laughed. “Oh, I want to win the prize for the most grotesque,” she said. “I have been talking to your cousin.”

“Philip is a lot nicer than I remember him,” said Elizabeth.

“Yes, so I gathered,” said Beth. “And he said he would preserve a dignified silence if you played him a practical joke like an apple-pie bed, whatever that may be, or balanced a jug of water on the door.”

“Don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind,” said Elizabeth. “An apple-pie bed is when you take the top sheet and put it under the pillow like a bottom sheet, and fold the bottom of it up to look like a top sheet, and the blankets and counterpane all over as normal. You put your feet into bed, and can only get them down half way. He made one for me, years ago, and I ripped the sheet, not knowing what it was. Boys learn things like that at school. But I, too, shall preserve my dignity by not lowering myself to play a joke on him. Only, I pray you, do not tell him so!”

“I shall not,” said Beth. “Isn’t Madelaine looking splendid, not feeling a need to hide her height?”

“Yes, and we must tell her so,” said Elizabeth. “Oh, the first dance is about to begin; have you engaged to dance with anyone yet?”

“Yes, I am dancing with Mr Dansey, I mean the Monster of France,” said Beth. “I hope he can control that outsize domino and not trip in it.”

“Not he,” said Elizabeth. “Not that I’ll answer for anyone else not standing on it!”

Beth enjoyed dancing; and though her dance with Mr Dansey was curtailed by Mr Chetwode falling headlong as he did an allemande the wrong way into the outrageous domino, it was still fun.

She was claimed next by Edward.

“Who is that Julius Caesar fellow?” he demanded.

“What, Oh, Pirate, did you wish to challenge the Imperial trireme on the high seas?” asked Beth, merrily.

“I do like to know who people are,” said Edward. “You are a green girl, and you stand in danger of silver tongued rogues.”

“Why, I did not think that Mrs Medlicott would invite silver tongued rogues!” said Beth. “He is a cousin of hers, and Elizabeth refers to him as Philip; he is some four years older than her, so a year older than I. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“Ah, yes, the Honourable Philip Devereaux,” said Edward. “Well, he is held to be an eligible bachelor and welcome anywhere.

Beth wondered whether to tease Edward that he did not sound at all pleased about Philip Devereaux’s eligibility, but decided that there were times to speak, and times to hold one’s tongue.

She danced with Mr Devereaux as promised and laughingly told him that she must be honour bound to withhold Elizabeth’s plans for vengeance. Mr Chetwode claimed a dance, and so did several other young men whom Beth thought she had met at Elizabeth’s rout party. It was all very exciting!

One of the masks was an outrageous beak, the head-dress of the young man wearing it the red poll of the greater spotted woodpecker; and Beth managed to slide away sideways as he bore down on her, having noticed that he liked to use his beak to ‘peck’ at his dancing partners. She ran into Major Whittall.

“Oh, Major, I mean, Admiral!” she said. “May I sit the next dance out with you?”

“I’d be delighted, Miss Renfield,” said the Major, who considered pretence to be rather foolish. “And by the next ball, I hope to have my arm back in action, to be able to dance, for surely all will be peace very soon!”

Consequently, Beth was able to drop a polite curtsey to the woodpecker and declare that she was claimed for this dance; and fortunately Major Whittal was too fond of his own consequence to be hurt by any suspicion that he had been used.

The supper dance with Edward was perhaps the best of all, for they had much time to chat, and compare notes about their guesses as to who was whom. And then it was the unmasking before supper, and Madelaine Vardy noticeably wilted and hunched her shoulders even as she took her mask off.

“And the prize for the most decorative mask goes to Miss Meynell for her butterfly,” announced Amabel Medlicott, “The most humorous to Mr Blacknell” – a man Beth knew only by sight – “for his outrageous woodpecker, and the most grotesque to Miss Renfield, whose gargoyle looked quite ready to spill water onto passers-by!”

There was applause, and Beth thanked Mrs Medlicott for the beautifully-tooled leather-bound notebook which was her prize. It was a lovely thing, with gilding in the tooling and gilded edges to the pages, which had been already carefully cut apart to use. Beth personally thought that Mr Blacknell might have been a more amusing person to get to know, had not his games with his beak been rather too boisterous; but perhaps he would grow out of such things. However, it had been a most enjoyable ball, and was another first for her, both her first ball and her first masquerade!


Chapter 9

“Oh, my dear Beth, we have been invited to a ball at Arvendish House!” said Letty. “Lord and Lady Arvendish are quite leaders of society, and of course they are friendly with Lord and Lady Everleigh.”

“Who are Lord and Lady Everleigh?” asked Beth.

“Oh Beth! The parents of Lady Cressida Stonhouse!” said Letty.

“I do wish that these aristocrats would not have such very different names that they use!” said Beth.

“Well, of course, they have a family name which may be the same as their title if they had the title from the very beginning of it, or acquired other titles subsequently. That young limb who played the questionable song is Viscount Stonhouse as well as having the surname Stonhouse.”

“I see, I think,” said Beth. “So the family were given an earldom as well as the viscounty for some signal service like procuring girls for Edward IV, supporting Henry VIII in his divorce plans or lending money to any random Stuart?”

“Cynicism aside, yes,” said Letty. “Dear me, now you have come out of yourself, my dear, I declare you are quite as bad as Grey!”

Beth chuckled.

“Well, as you were very fond of your husband, I shall look upon that as a compliment,” she said. “Anything in the papers this morning?”

“There’s a report of Lord Wellington taking a wound,” said Letty, “a spent musket ball in the thigh, but not serious enough to make him quit the field of battle. That’s the action of the twenty-seventh of March. Oh, and there’s an announcement that one must expect soon a proclamation regarding a cessation in hostilities, but nothing definite said; mere speculation, along with the assumption that now Princess Charlotte may be expected to marry the Prince of Orange.”

“Is he the stupid one who looks like a frog?” asked Beth, “for if so, she’s wasted on him.”

“He may have hidden talents; and besides, it’s a dynastic marriage,” said Letty.

“I’d have thought someone who was not a ruling prince would be better for the only child and heir of the Regent of England might me a better choice,” said Beth.

“Well, I have no doubt the Princess will manage to make her feelings clear if it is not her choice; she is quite good at doing so,” said Letty dryly. “As to the rest, it is just the same old thing about negotiations having broken down, and reprinting reports that are ten or twelve days old. I thought we might go shopping, and make sure your ball gown for this ball is truly memorable.”

“Letty, I have ball gowns, and as I wore a domino, I can wear the one I wore last night,” said Beth.

“No, we want a proper gown for you to make a debut in what is the highest society to which you might normally aspire,”
said Letty. “And a petticoat of silver tissue, with sheer satin-striped muslin over it, and adorned with pink roses is what I have in mind.”

“It sounds monstrously extravagant,” said Beth. “But I confess, I would like to wear such an extravagant confection.”

“Well, then, we shall go shopping,” said Letty. “The ball is on the sixth; plenty of time.”

This shopping trip had more purpose to it than the previous one, where the ladies had been purchasing a selection of cloths that might be made up, though Beth was delighted to bump into Madelaine Vardy.

“Madelaine! I loved your costume as a multi-layered cake, and how elegant you looked, walking tall inside it!” she said.
Madelaine gave a slightly hysterical giggle.

“Oh, Beth!” she said, “I was never meant to be a cake, Mother said I should dress as the leaning tower of Pisa as I drooped so, only I forgot to droop at all!”

“How unkind of her!” Beth’s eyes sparkled in anger.

“Do you think so? Oh Beth, is it totally evil of me to dislike my mother?”

“Well, I dislike your mother, and I don’t even know her as well as you do,” said Beth. “She is quite unkind to you, and maybe she does not mean to be, but you would think by now she would realise that the more she bullies you, the more you droop and the clumsier you get.”

“I think she thinks I merely lack will-power,” said Madelaine, gloomily. “For two pins I’d run away and…and become a governess!”

“Do you have the education to become a governess?” asked Beth.

“Oh! Yes. I have had a very expensive education and enjoyed learning,” said Madelaine. “I could teach quite happily.”

“You may be a bit too pretty for a household with a teen-aged son, or an errant father, but if you do decide to run away, I will certainly help you,” said Beth. “I see your mother returning from the haberdashery counter with the triumph of Blucher at the gates of Paris.”

“They found her the ribbon she wanted, then,” said Madelaine. “Even if they had to send a girl to purchase some from elsewhere and make no profit. Mother always gets what she wants. Mother, you recall Miss Renfield, do you not?”
Mrs Vardy looked at Beth with dislike.

“Yes,” she said.

“So clever to dress Madelaine as a tall cake with icing, to give her the courage to stand tall when wearing a mask,” enthused Beth. “I was tremendously impressed.”

“Hmph! Yes, well, we are purchasing something for her for the ball at Arvendish House, on Wednesday next,” said Mrs
Vardy, her eyes glittering in triumph. “Madelaine received an invitation to attend.”

“Yes, it will be my first big ball,” said Beth. “Exciting, is it not?”

Mrs Vardy’s face froze, and the chagrin she felt that the dumpy little nobody would be going as well was plain upon her face. Beth smiled at her with real happiness at having managed to spoil a piece of spite and gloating. Madelaine was hiding how pleased she felt. Doubtless the wretched woman would spend the whole journey home, and after, wondering out loud how come Miss Renfield should also have been invited; and complaining about it.

Edward was waiting when Letty and Beth got back to their house, pacing up and down outside.

“Your fool footman won’t let me in to wait, and it’s perishing cold out here,” he said, greeting Letty with a peck on the cheek.

“I am very sorry, Edward, he is a London footman and very proper,” said Letty. “I shall tell him that in the future you may be admitted when I am absent, since you are my nephew. Ah, Simpson, Mr Brandon is always to be admitted, he is my nephew, and since he is now a very cold nephew, the urn and tea caddy if you please, in the blue parlour,” she added as the footman opened the door.

“Very good, Madam,” said the footman.

“Now, have you news for us, Edward?” asked Letty.

“Yes, but I have no intention of sharing it until that supercilious fellow has served tea and taken himself off,” said Edward. “I know it’s a deuced unfashionable time to come calling, but I’ve some news I must share with you, before you hear a garbled version from someone else, or read it in the newspapers.”

“It sounds ominous,” said Letty. “Ah, Simpson, thank you, that will be all.”

Letty unlocked the tea caddy and mixed the tea the way she knew Edward liked it, which being the way her sister had served it was a mix she liked herself, and that Beth had learned to like as well as any other mix she had tried. The urn was hot, and Letty raised and lowered the tea pot a few times to steep the tea before pouring. Edward helped himself to sugar, looking a little apologetic for taking three good sized lumps.

“I can’t claim it was a shock, but though I was not surprised, it was still unpleasant,” he said.

“You’re making a mull of it,” said Beth. “Start at the beginning.”
Edward smiled, briefly.

“That would go back to before the time Uncle Adam got married, at which point Tiffany, his wife, had been seen much with Evelyn, Lord Finchbury. But the budget of news that I wish to impart really begins with Tiffany having given birth overnight to a baby girl. And that baby girl has a tuft of dark hair, and ears with slight points on them. Both Uncle Adam and Tiffany are blonde, and the only person I know with slight points to the ears is Finchbury. Add to that a bouncing baby of seven and a half pounds at what is supposed to be seven months, and even Uncle Adam had conniptions.”

“Oh, poor Adam,” said Letty. “He just about worshipped that ridiculous girl.”

“I know,” sighed Edward. “And she admitted it, and screeched at him that she would not have married a boring old fool like him if it had not been necessary. And of course, he could try to get a son on her as soon as possible and say as little as possible about this girl, but he didn’t marry her for a son, he married her because he was so besotted. And she has fallen from her pedestal with a crash. I was prepared to push, but I didn’t have to. She jumped.”

“Wouldn’t it have been unkind to your uncle to have pushed?” said Beth.

“Possibly, but it would depend on whether she took a lover and foisted another cuckoo into his nest,” said Edward, “because I surprised a look on her face last time I was there, and it made me angry on Adam’s behalf, and chary that she might go seeking diversion elsewhere. So there is to be a Crim. Con. case against her, because she wants to divorce Uncle Adam. At least, she does at the moment; and as there were witnesses to her admissions, she is going to get her wish even if she changes her mind later and wants it hushed up. That her maid was also induced to admit to meetings with Finchbury in a place of assignation means it should at least be quick ad easy. Adam is devastated, but quite devoted to baby Lydia already; Tiffany wants nothing to do with her. He told her that he would provide for the baby, and arrange that all she brought to the wedding is restored to her, for she had a handsome jointure.”

“Generous,” said Letty. “Especially when one considers how expensive it is to proceed to a private bill to obtain a divorce. And I doubt he’ll get much out of Finchbury, whatever damages are set.”

“He would not wish to hold on to anything that was hers, I wager,” said Beth, “save the helpless baby which caused all the trouble, but unwittingly, that she is also betraying by not wanting her. I expect he feels fellow feeling with the poor little scrap.”

“Indeed,” said Edward. “Anyway, I thought it best to make you aware, before someone asks you about it.”

“Dear me, yes,” said Letty. “Tongues will wag, however quietly it is done. After all, it will be necessary to make sure that it is known that the poor baby is not in any way going to inherit titles or anything else of right, otherwise she would be the Lady Lydia. Oh, Edward! That means that you are Adam’s heir again!”

Edward shrugged.

“At least it’s a role I am prepared for,” he said. “Beth, will you mind being a baroness if Uncle Adam does not remarry for a second time?”

“Edward, do you mind having a secret betrothal to someone of no land or fortune, who cannot add to the barony in any way?” said Beth.
Edward shrugged.

“Oh, I’m sure you will bring calm good common sense to the lands, and be an admirable baroness,” he said. “We know each other tolerably well, now, do we not? And that makes for a good partnership.”

“How unromantic you are, Edward,” said Letty.

“I’m not a very romantic person,” said Edward. “But do you mind, Beth?”

“Not if you think me suitable,” said Beth. “I am sure I can learn to be a baroness. If I can learn this pesky waltz that Aunt Letty wants me to have the chance to dance, running a barony will be relative child’s play.”
Edward laughed.

“Phlegmatic and practical as always,” he said. “And that is more likely to stand you in good stead as a baroness than a title or two, and all the tea in China.”

He finished his tea, and took his leave.

“Well!” said Letty.

“Or indeed, not well,” said Beth. “It will be most embarrassing for all those most nearly concerned, of course. Let us hope that a victory is announced soon, and that it chases all other news right to the back of all the papers, so the whole business may be got over quickly and quietly. If Bonaparte is found to have a fatal wound, as was suggested, it will be much more likely to take up half the papers in speculation.”

Letty laughed.

“I doubt that the war will arrange itself to the convenience of Edward and his uncle,” she said. “What a silly piece Tiffany Pelham was, to be sure! Fancy permitting a rake like Finchbury to sweet-talk her into his bed! But then, the Pelhams have never been noted for their brains. It will doubtless be the talk of the ball, but may with luck be a nine-day wonder and will blow over.”

Letty did not add that it was not improbable that Amelia Hazelgrove was likely to turn on her not inconsiderable charms towards Edward again, once she thought him heir to a barony once again; it would only serve to worry Beth.

Beth wondered if The Beauty would try to get her hooks into Edward again, and whether he would be fool enough to fall for her wiles; and swore quietly to herself that Amelia Hazelgrove would not have him. She said nothing, however, of this to Letty, for fear of upsetting her.

Part III

Every object in the next day’s journey was new and interesting to Elizabeth; and her spirits were in a state for enjoyment; for she had seen her sister looking so well as to banish all fear for her health, and the prospect of her northern tour was a constant source of delight.

When they left the high-road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye was in search of the Parsonage, and every turning expected to bring it in view. The palings of Rosings Park was their boundary on one side. Elizabeth smiled at the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants. At length the Parsonage was discerned. The garden sloping to the road, the house standing in it, the green pales and the laurel hedge, everything declared that they were arriving. Mr. Collins and Charlotte appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at a small gate, which led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and smiles of the whole party. In a moment they were all out of the chaise, rejoicing at the sight of each other. Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend with the liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with coming, when she found herself so affectionately received. She saw instantly that her cousin’s manners were not altered by his marriage; his formal civility was just what it had been, and he detained her some minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his enquiries after all her family. They were then, with no other delay than his pointing out the neatness of the entrance, taken into the house; and as soon as they were in the parlour, he welcomed them a second time with ostentatious formality to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his wife’s offers of refreshment.

Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; and she could not help fancying that in displaying the good proportion of the room, its aspect and its furniture, he addressed himself particularly to her, as if wishing to make her feel what she had lost in refusing him. But though everything seemed neat and comfortable, she was not able to gratify him by any sigh of repentance; and rather looked with wonder at her friend that she could have so cheerful an air, with such a companion. When Mr. Collins said anything of which his wife might reasonably be ashamed, which certainly was not infrequent, she involuntarily turned her eye on Charlotte. Once or twice she could discern a faint blush; but in general Charlotte wisely did not hear. After sitting long enough to admire every article of furniture in the room, from the sideboard to the fender, to give an account of their journey, and of all that had happened in London, Mr. Collins invited them to take a stroll in the garden, which was large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of which he attended himself.

To work in his garden was one of his most respectable pleasures; and Elizabeth admired the command of countenance with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of the exercise, and owned she encouraged it as much as possible. Here, leading the way through every walk and cross walk, and scarcely allowing them an interval to utter the praises he asked for, every view was pointed out with a minuteness which left beauty entirely behind. He could number the fields in every direction, and could tell how many trees there were in the most distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, or which the country, or the kingdom could boast, none were to be compared with the prospect of Rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees that bordered the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It was a handsome modern building, well situated on rising ground.

From his garden, Mr. Collins would have led them round his two meadows, but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter the remains of a white frost, turned back; and while Sir William accompanied him, Charlotte took her sister and friend over the house, extremely well pleased, probably, to have the opportunity of showing it without her husband’s help. It was rather small, but well built and convenient; and everything was fitted up and arranged with a neatness and consistency of which Elizabeth gave Charlotte all the credit.

When Mr. Collins could be forgotten, there was really a great air of comfort throughout, and by Charlotte’s evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed he must be often forgotten. She had already learned that Lady Catherine was still in the country. It was spoken of again while they were at dinner, when Mr. Collins joining in, observed, “Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing Lady Catherine de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I need not say you will be delighted with her. She is all affability and condescension, and I doubt not but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice when service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying that she will include you and my sister Maria in every invitation with which she honours us during your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is charming. We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to walk home. Her ladyship’s carriage is regularly ordered for us. I should say, one of her ladyship’s carriages, for she has several.”

“Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman indeed,” added Charlotte, “and a most attentive neighbour.”

“Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is the sort of woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference.”

The evening was spent chiefly in talking over Hertfordshire news, and telling again what had been already written – the fate and disposition of Mr. Wickham being of particular interest and Elizabeth’s role therein; and when it closed, Elizabeth, in the solitude of her chamber, had to meditate upon Charlotte’s degree of contentment, to understand her address in guiding, and composure in bearing with her husband, and to acknowledge that it was all done very well. She had also to anticipate how her visit would pass, the quiet tenor of their usual employments, the vexatious interruptions of Mr. Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse with Rosings. A lively imagination soon settled it all.

About the middle of the next day, as she was in her room getting ready for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to speak the whole house in confusion; and after listening a moment, she heard somebody running up stairs in a violent hurry, and calling loudly after her. She opened the door, and met Maria in the landing place, who, breathless with agitation, cried out, “Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come into the dining-room, for there is such a sight to be seen! I will not tell you what it is. Make haste, and come down this moment.”

Elizabeth asked questions in vain; Maria would tell her nothing more, and down they ran into the dining room, which fronted the lane, in quest of this wonder; it was two ladies stopping in a low phaeton at the garden gate.

“And is this all?” cried Elizabeth. “I expected at least that the pigs were got into the garden, and here is nothing but Lady Catherine and her daughter!”

“La! my dear,” said Maria quite shocked at the mistake, “it is not Lady Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives with them. The other is Miss De Bourgh. Only look at her. She is quite a little creature. Who would have thought she could be so thin and small!”

“She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors in all this wind. Why does she not come in?”

“Oh! Charlotte says, she hardly ever does. It is the greatest of favours when Miss De Bourgh comes in.”

“I like her appearance,” said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas. “She looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will make him a very proper wife.”

Mr. Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the gate in conversation with the ladies; and Sir William, to Elizabeth’s high diversion, was stationed in the doorway, in earnest contemplation of the greatness before him, and constantly bowing whenever Miss De Bourgh looked that way. At length there was nothing more to be said; the ladies drove on, and the others returned into the house. Mr. Collins no sooner saw the two girls than he began to congratulate them on their good fortune, which Charlotte explained by letting them know that the whole party was asked to dine at Rosings the next day.

Mr. Collins’s triumph in consequence of this invitation was complete. The power of displaying the grandeur of his patroness to his wondering visitors, and of letting them see her civility towards himself and his wife, was exactly what he had wished for; and that an opportunity of doing it should be given so soon was such an instance of Lady Catherine’s condescension as he knew not how to admire enough.

“I confess,” said he, “that I should not have been at all surprised by her Ladyship’s asking us on Sunday to drink tea and spend the evening at Rosings. I rather expected, from my knowledge of her affability, that it would happen. But who could have foreseen such an attention as this? Who could have imagined that we should receive an invitation to dine there (an invitation moreover including the whole party) so immediately after your arrival!”

“I am the less surprised at what has happened,” replied Sir William, “from that knowledge of what the manners of the great really are, which my situation in life has allowed me to acquire. About the Court, such instances of elegant breeding are not uncommon.”

Scarcely any thing was talked of the whole day, or next morning, but their visit to Rosings. Mr. Collins was carefully instructing them in what they were to expect, that the sight of such rooms, so many servants, and so splendid a dinner might not wholly overpower them.

As Elizabeth gaily confessed to her sister, in the letter she wrote the following morning, the evening surpassed all of her expectations of impertinence, misguided condescension and foolish arrogance as would have delighted their father. She read her letter once more, hoping that she had conveyed her own appreciation of the pleasure of Lady Catherine’s company.

Hunsford Parsonage
Kent

Dearest Jane,

I will not bore you with further evidence of our cousin’s foolishness. My letter after I first arrived has, I hope, satisfied any cravings as you might unwisely suffer in that regard. As our father was wont to say, a little of Mr. Collins’ company can suffice for several days, if not longer. I have already a surfeit and have been here but a few days. But enough of Mr. Collins. Last night we were privileged to dine with our cousin’s patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

After being assured by our cousin that the lady would not think less of me if i was simply dressed since she likes the distinction of rank preserved, I resisted the temptation to wear my oldest gown, and satisfied myself with that light yellow one that I bought before Christmas. It hasn’t been seen by the company here and must count as new I suppose. Dressing was quite an experience. I rather thought our Mama was present as our cousin must have urged me several times to hurry my dressing since Lady Catherine does not like to be kept waiting. Poor Maria was quite discomposed which, given her lack of sense, did not portend well for the evening.

Our cousin waxed rapturously as we walked the half mile to Rosings about the plentitude of windows and the cost of glazing as to quite upset Sir William and overset Maria altogether. For myself, I had heard nothing of Lady Catherine to inspire awe from any extraordinary talents or miraculous virtue, and the mere stateliness of money and rank I believed myself capable of witnessing without trepidation. Once we had arrived, our introduction was performed by Charlotte which I am assured must have shortened the time required by our cousin as those apologies and thanks were omitted which he believes so necessary.

Rosings is, I imagine, quite grand although I believe it gaudy and uselessly fine, meant to impress by a display of wealth with little true comfort or elegance. Sir William was so overwhelmed however that his bow was so low as to cause me concern that he might be unable to rise or indeed might fall forward, while Maria was rendered virtually senseless – perhaps an improvement although I suspect I am being too unkind – poor Maria. Lady Catherine is a tall, large woman, with strongly marked features, which might once have been handsome. Her air is not conciliating, nor is her manner of receiving us such as to make us forget our inferior rank. She is not rendered formidable by silence; but whatever she says is spoken in so authoritative a tone as to mark her self-importance. She does in countenance and deportment bear some resemblance to Mr. Darcy although she could benefit from his habit of silence. Lady Catherine’s daughter bears no similarity in face or figure to her mother being thin, small and speaking little except to her companion, a Mrs. Jenkinson of whom there is little remarkable.

The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were all the servants, and all the articles of plate which our cousin had promised; and, when he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by her ladyship’s desire, he looked as if he felt that life could furnish nothing greater. My dear Jane, he carved, and ate, and praised with delighted alacrity; and every dish was commended, first by him, and then by Sir William, who was now enough recovered to echo whatever our cousin said. I wondered that Lady Catherine could bear it but she seemed most gratified by their excessive admiration, and gave most gracious smiles. Lady Catherine was not disposed to allow any share of the conversation to belong to anyone else, a state which continued when we retired to the drawing room. I longed for my father. How he would have enjoyed the opportunity to gently expose the follies of our company.

Oh Jane! I am so glad our father supported me in refusing our cousin’s offer of marriage. I could not have bourn Lady Catherine’s interference in my household concerns. I can only marvel at Charlotte’s ability to do so. Her ladyship enquired into Charlotte’s domestic concerns familiarly and minutely, and gave her a great deal of advice as to the management of them all; told her how everything ought to be regulated in so small a family as hers, and instructed her even as to the care of her cows and her poultry. When not instructing Charlotte, she addressed a variety of questions to Maria and to myself particularly, of whose connections she knew the least. I am, I learned a very genteel, pretty kind of girl. She asked me at different times, how many sisters I had, whether they were older or younger than myself, whether any of them were likely to be married, whether they were handsome, where they had been educated, what carriage out father kept, and what had been our mother’s maiden name?

It took, I assure you, all my composure to answer these questions without becoming impertinent myself. Unfortunately my forbearance seemed only to encourage her ladyship who then began to inquire minutely into my accomplishments. She was most distressed that none of us draw, had not been taken to London to be taught by masters and that we had no governess – I admit to agreeing with her on this matter, a situation which is noteworthy only for its rarity. However when she heard that all of my sisters were ‘out’, she could hardly believe it and was not at all amused by my touch of impertinence when I said thought it would be very hard upon my younger sisters, that they should not have their share of society and amusement because you and I may not have the means or inclination to marry early. The last born has as good a right to the pleasures of youth, as the first. And to be kept back on such a motive! I told her I thought it would not be very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind. While I defended our family in this, I must admit that when I consider Kitty and Lydia’s behaviour, I feel some agreement with her ladyship. To agree twice in one evening with her ladyship! – do not tell our father, please.

I will not bore you with the rest of the evening. We played casino until such time as Lady Catherine had played as long as she wished and then we were sent home – in her ladyship’s carriage no less. Our journey back to the parsonage was brief but our cousin was most desirous of hearing my praises of Rosings and Lady Catherine; unfortunately, they appeared to be insufficient and he most readily assumed the burden of providing them for me.

You may be assured that I have spared your sensibilities by forbearing to relate much of the foolishness that I have endured. I truly envy you to be staying with our aunt and uncle. I suspect there is more sense spoken at Gracechurch Street in five minutes than would be heard in Rosings in a month.

Your most loving and envious sister,

Elizabeth

Having satisfied herself as to the letter, it was signed and posted that same day after which Elizabeth walked to Hunsford with Maria to investigate the shops there.

Sir William staid only a week at Hunsford; but his visit was long enough to convince him of his daughter being most comfortably settled, and of her possessing such a husband and such a neighbour as were not often met with. While Sir William was with them, Mr. Collins devoted his mornings to driving him out in his gig and showing him the country; but when he went away, the whole family returned to their usual employments, and Elizabeth was thankful to find that they did not see more of her cousin by the alteration, for the chief of the time between breakfast and dinner was now passed by him either at work in the garden, or in reading and writing, and looking out of window in his own book room, which fronted the road. The room in which the ladies sat was backwards. Elizabeth at first had rather wondered that Charlotte should not prefer the dining parlour for common use; it was a better sized room, and had a pleasanter aspect; but she soon saw that her friend had an excellent reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been much less in his own apartment, had they sat in one equally lively; and she gave Charlotte credit for the arrangement.

From the drawing room they could distinguish nothing in the lane, and were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of what carriages went along, and how often especially Miss De Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, which he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened almost every day. She not infrequently stopped at the Parsonage, and had a few minutes’ conversation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever prevailed on to get out.

Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did not walk to Rosings, and not many in which his wife did not think it necessary to go likewise; and till Elizabeth recollected that there might be other family livings to be disposed of, she could not understand the sacrifice of so many hours. Now and then, they were honoured with a call from her ladyship, and nothing escaped her observation that was passing in the room during these visits. She examined into their employments, looked at their work, and advised them to do it differently; found fault with the arrangement of the furniture, or detected the housemaid in negligence; and if she accepted any refreshment, seemed to do it only for the sake of finding out that Mrs. Collins’s joints of meat were too large for her family.

Elizabeth soon perceived that though this great lady was not in the commission of the peace for the county, she was a most active magistrate in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which were carried to her by Mr. Collins; and whenever any of the cottagers were disposed to be quarrelsome, discontented or too poor, she sallied forth into the village to settle their differences, silence their complaints, and scold them into harmony and plenty.

The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated about twice a week; and, allowing for the loss of Sir William, and there being only one card table in the evening, every such entertainment was the counterpart of the first. Their other engagements were few; as the style of living of the neighbourhood in general was beyond the reach of the Collinses. This, however, was no evil to Elizabeth, and upon the whole she spent her time comfortably enough; there were half hours of pleasant conversation with Charlotte, and the weather was so fine for the time of year, that she had often great enjoyment out of doors. Her favourite walk, and where she frequently went while the others were calling on Lady Catherine, was along the open grove which edged that side of the park, where there was a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value but herself, and where she felt beyond the reach of Lady Catherine’s curiosity.

In this quiet way, the first fortnight of her visit soon passed away. Easter was approaching, and the week preceding it was to bring an addition to the family at Rosings, which in so small a circle must be important. Elizabeth had heard, soon after her arrival, that Mr. Darcy was expected there in the course of a few weeks, and his coming would furnish one comparatively new to look at in their Rosings parties, and she might be amused in seeing how hopeless Miss Bingley’s designs on him were, by his behaviour to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined by Lady Catherine; who talked of his coming with the greatest satisfaction, spoke of him in terms of the highest admiration, and seemed almost angry to find that he had already been frequently seen by Miss Lucas and herself. On her own behalf Elizabeth, recognizing that she had somewhat carelessly misjudged the gentleman in the past, was resolved to develop a better understanding of him; and, if her aunt’s reports of Mr. Wickham’s activities had sunk his character, they had also raised Mr. Darcy’s. His manner, his pride and arrogance might be as distasteful as ever, but he obviously possessed some admirable attributes and it behooved her to identify them. His reserve, his disinclination to converse with others was, she could now see, the main impediment to her efforts and to this end she thought to make a greater effort to engage him in conversation. With such a taciturn gentleman it would, she thought, require all of her patience.

His arrival was soon known at the Parsonage, for Mr. Collins was walking the whole morning within view of the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane, in order to have the earliest assurance of it; and after making his bow as the carriage turned into the park, hurried home with the great intelligence. On the following morning he hastened to Rosings to pay his respects. There were two nephews of Lady Catherine to require them, for Mr. Darcy had brought with him a Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of his uncle, Lord ——; and to the great surprise of all the party, when Mr. Collins returned, the gentlemen accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them, from her husband’s room, crossing the road, and immediately running into the other, told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding, “I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me.”

Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the compliment, before their approach was announced by the door-bell, and shortly afterwards the three gentlemen entered the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who led the way, was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, paid his compliments, with his usual reserve, to Mrs. Collins; and whatever might be his feelings towards her friend, met her with every appearance of composure. Elizabeth curtseyed to him and mindful of her plan, immediately began speaking to him of her pleasure in visiting Kent, the grounds and the walks that she had enjoyed.

Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly; and his cousin, perhaps surprised to be addressed so directly by Elizabeth, responded by inquiring, with some interest, of her what she perceived as the differences between Kent and Hertfordshire. When this topic had exhausted itself he lapsed into silence leaving it to his cousin to maintain the conversation. After some minutes Mr. Darcy addressed a slight observation on the house and garden to Mrs. Collins and then sat for some time without speaking to anybody. At length, however, his civility was so far awakened as to enquire of Elizabeth after the health of her family. She answered him in the usual way, and after a moment’s pause, added, “My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never happened to see her there?”

She was perfectly sensible that he never had; but she wished to see whether he would betray any consciousness of what had passed between the Bingleys and Jane; and she thought he looked a little confused as he answered that he had never been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet. The subject was pursued no farther, and the gentlemen soon afterwards went away.

~~~

Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners were very much admired at the parsonage, and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably to the pleasure of their engagements at Rosings. It was some days, however, before they received any invitation thither, for while there were visitors in the house they could not be necessary; and it was not till Easter Sunday, almost a week after the gentlemen’s arrival, that they were honoured by such an attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to come there in the evening. For the last week they had seen very little of either Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had called at the parsonage more than once during the time, but Mr. Darcy they had only seen at church.

The invitation was accepted of course, and at a proper hour they joined the party in Lady Catherine’s drawing room. Her ladyship received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room.

Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; anything was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins’s pretty friend had moreover caught his fancy very much. He now seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained in that room before; and they conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself as well as of Mr. Darcy. His eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned towards them with a look of curiosity; and that her ladyship after a while shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged, for she did not scruple to call out, “What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.”

“We are speaking of music, Madam,” said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply.

“Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learned, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?”

Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister’s proficiency.

“I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,” said Lady Catherine; “and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel, if she does not practise a great deal.”

“I assure you, Madam,” he replied, “that she does not need such advice. She practises very constantly.”

“So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies, that no excellence in music is to be acquired, without constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well, unless she practises more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. Jenkinson’s room. She would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part of the house.”

Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt’s ill breeding, and made no answer.

When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to the instrument. He drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter walked away from her, and moving with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte, stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer’s countenance. Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said, “You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.”

“I shall not say that you are mistaken,” he replied, “because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which, in fact, are not your own.”

Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to Colonel Fitzwilliam, “Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous of you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire - and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too - for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out, as will shock your relations to hear.”

“I am not afraid of you,” said he, smilingly.

“Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”

“You shall hear then - but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball - and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances! I am sorry to pain you - but so it was. He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact.”

“I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.”

“True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball room. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.”

“Perhaps,” said Darcy, “I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction, but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.”

“Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers?”

“I can answer your question,” said Fitzwilliam, “without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”

“I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy, “of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.”

“My fingers,” said Elizabeth, “do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault - because I would not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as those of any other woman of superior execution.”

Darcy smiled, and said, “You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you, can think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers.”

Elizabeth was set to remark that she indeed did frequently perform to strangers and was expected to do so when they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to know what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began playing again. Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, said to Darcy, “Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss, if she practised more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne’s. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn.”

Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see how cordially he assented to his cousin’s praise; but neither at that moment nor at any other could she discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss De Bourgh she derived this comfort for Miss Bingley, that he might have been just as likely to marry her, had she been his relation. Her small smirk at this thought was observed by both the Colonel and Mr. Darcy although both believed her to be amused at their aunt’s blatant promotion of their cousin.

Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth’s performance, mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste. Elizabeth received them with all the forbearance of civility; and at the request of the gentlemen, remained at the instrument till her ladyship’s carriage was ready to take them all home.

Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Jane, while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, and under that apprehension was putting away her half-finished letter that she might escape all impertinent questions, when the door opened, and to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only, entered the room.

He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologized for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies to be within. They then sat down, and when her enquiries after Rosings were made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was absolutely necessary, therefore, to think of something, and in this emergency recollecting when she had seen him last in Hertfordshire, and feeling curious to know what he would say on the subject of their hasty departure, she observed, “How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London.”

“Perfectly so - I thank you.”

She found that she was to receive no other answer and, after a short pause, added, “I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?”

“I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may spend very little of his time there in future. He has many friends, and he is at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually increasing.”

“If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we might possibly get a settled family there. But perhaps Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to keep or quit it on the same principle.”

“I should not be surprised,” said Darcy, “if he were to give it up, as soon as any eligible purchase offers.”

Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of his friend; and, recollecting that she had almost promised her aunt to improve her understanding of Mr. Darcy and her resolve to improve her understanding of him, spoke thus. “Mr. Darcy, I remember when last we met, a certain gentleman, with whom you were once acquainted, was discussed. I thought you might be interested to know that he has now joined the regulars and has been sent to fight in Spain.”

Mr. Darcy’s surprise was obvious and for several moments he had little to say until a small smile, which Elizabeth could easily identify as satisfaction, crossed his face.

“Indeed!” said he and then, after a very brief pause, added, “May I inquire as to how this came about?”

In a few short sentences she outlined the steps followed to make known Mr. Wickham’s character. For his part, the gentleman listened with great interest and was warmly congratulatory of her efforts and those of her aunt.

“I will be forever in debt to your aunt and will not hesitate to say as much to her should we meet. I must tell my cousin this news. He will be as satisfied as I.”

Elizabeth found herself a little dissatisfied that he had shown no discomfort at his lack of involvement.. Unable to suppress completely the touch of censure in her voice, she noted, “The information upon which we acted was of the common sort and known apparently throughout Lambton. If it had been made known earlier in Meryton, some of our shopkeepers might have incurred fewer debts.”

Elizabeth was not unhappy to observe Mr. Darcy’s discomposure at her words and he was at last content to express his regrets but that circumstances were such as to prevent his involvement. This statement satisfied neither of them and Elizabeth was now determined to leave the trouble of finding a subject to him. He took the hint, and soon began with, “This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford.”

“I believe she did - and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object.”

“Mr. Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife.”

“Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding - though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her.”

“It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends.”

“An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles.”

“And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day’s journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance.”

“I should never have considered the distance as one of the advantages of the match,” cried Elizabeth. “I should never have said Mrs. Collins was settled near her family.”

“It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Anything beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far.”

As he spoke there was a sort of smile, which Elizabeth fancied she understood; he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane and Netherfield although an errant thought suggested that he might be referencing herself, and she blushed as she answered,

“I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expense unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the case here. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent journeys - and I am persuaded my friend would not call herself near her family under less than half the present distance.”

Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, “You cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. You cannot have been always at Longbourn.”

Elizabeth looked surprised. The gentleman experienced some change of feeling; he drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and, glancing over it, said, in a slightly colder voice, “Are you pleased with Kent?”

A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either side calm and concise and soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte and her sister, just returned from their walk. The tête-à-tête surprised them. Mr. Darcy related the mistake which had occasioned his intruding on Miss Bennet, and after sitting a few minutes longer without saying much to anybody, went away.

“What can be the meaning of this!” said Charlotte, as soon as he was gone. “My dear Eliza he must be in love with you, or he would never have called on us in this familiar way.”

Elizabeth admitted that they had conversed very well for much of the time although she could discern no particular warmth on his part and it did not seem very likely, even to Charlotte’s wishes, to be the case; and after various conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to proceed from the difficulty of finding anything to do, which was the more probable from the time of year. All field sports were over. Within doors there was Lady Catherine, books, and a billiard table, but gentlemen cannot be always within doors; and in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the two cousins found a temptation from this period of walking thither almost every day. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied by their aunt. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he had pleasure in their society, a persuasion which of course recommended him still more; and Elizabeth was not unaware of her own satisfaction in being with him, as well as of his evident admiration of her. Not least of his attractions was a well informed mind.

But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage, it was more difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there several minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice - a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself. Elizabeth made several attempts to find topics that would engage his interest and occasionally he would even appear animated but all too frequently would return to a quiet contemplation of the conversation taking place before him.

Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s occasionally laughing at his stupidity, proved that he was generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told her; and as she would have liked to believe this change the effect of love, and the object of that love, her friend Eliza, she sat herself seriously to work to find it out. She watched him whenever they were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success. He certainly looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often doubted whether there were much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but absence of mind.

She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of his being partial to her, but Elizabeth always laughed at the idea; and Mrs. Collins did not think it right to press the subject, from the danger of raising expectations which might only end in disappointment; for in her opinion it admitted not of a doubt, that all her friend’s dislike would vanish, if she could suppose him to be in her power.

In her kind schemes for Elizabeth, she sometimes planned her marrying Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was beyond comparison the pleasantest man; he certainly admired her, and his situation in life was most eligible; but, to counterbalance these advantages, Mr. Darcy had considerable patronage in the church, and his cousin could have none at all.

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I had to split this in half to post. Part III - B to follow ASAP.