Chapter thirty-seven.

As the dinner at Gracechurch Street continued, Darcy made every effort to continue his conversation with Elizabeth Bennet. One of the her favourite topics was her sister.

"Is Mrs Bingley pleased with her time in Scarborough?"

"From what I can tell, she has enjoyed her visit very much."

"I hope that the recent poor weather has not curtailed her entertainment."

"I do not think it would. Jane tends to make the best of whatever situation she might find herself in." She paused while one of the servants refilled her glass, before glancing towards him. "Do you receive many letters from Mr. Bingley?"

"No." Darcy grinned as he shook his head. Her comment had brought to mind his friend's irregular and poorly written missives. "He is an indifferent correspondent at best. I have only received one letter from Bingley since he left for Yorkshire, which he fully admitted had been written at his wife's suggestion."

"Dear Jane! She is so thoughtful of everyone."

"I agree. Her style of gentle persuasion is the best way with Bingley. They seem to be eminently suited for each other."

Elizabeth's expression turned thoughtful, and she remained silent for more than a minute, before she replied. "You were not always of that opinion, I believe."

Looking quickly around the table, and seeing every other occupant involved in their own conversations, Darcy did not hesitate in explaining himself further. "You are quite correct. I once considered myself discerning, but I admit that I formed an incorrect assumption from your sister's behaviour. I have since learned, through further study, that the serenity of Mrs Bingley's countenance, and her air, hide the feelings of her heart from even the most acute observer."

He watched, fascinated, as Elizabeth licked her bottom lip to catch a crumb which had lodged there, and he was forced to take a mouthful of wine to refresh his parched throat before he could continue.

"Once I understood my error I made a point of correcting it. I cannot now imagine my friend Bingley finding anyone more suitable to his temperament. Mrs Bingley is, for him, a perfect choice."

She smiled slightly at his observation. "I am pleased to hear that our opinions now concur."

"You sound surprised that we might ever think alike, Miss Bennet. I am sure, when we have the opportunity for a longer discussion, we will find many points upon which our thoughts coincide." He saw a faint blush on her cheek and lowered his voice. "It must have been difficult for you to become accustomed to your sister's new status." When he saw her frown again he hurried to explain himself more clearly. "I meant, of course, her being married. I know that the two of you shared a close friendship and I remember how concerned you were when she took ill at Netherfield."

"Yes, I will admit that, as happy as I am for Jane, I do miss her company. It was always to be expected that we would be separated eventually. I enjoy reading her letters, but it is not the same as having her nearby."

He heard the sadness in her voice. "You speak as though she will not return to Netherfield."

"Oh, I am aware that Mr. and Mrs Bingley intend to return, but you must know that there is no guarantee that they will remain in Hertfordshire forever." He watched as her eyes flicked to the end of the table where Mrs Bennet was speaking animatedly with Mr. Gardiner, and she sighed as the sound of her mother's voice reached them.

"Lizzy? Lizzy! Am I right? Did not Lord Cresswell say that he intended to return this week?"

"Yes, Mama."

Mrs Bennet grinned triumphantly at her brother. "See, I told you so. He is such a pleasant gentleman ... what exquisite manners! You should take the time to talk with him, brother. Why did my sister not think to invite the Viscount to dinner? I declare, I would go distracted with a man of such stature at the dinner table!"

"Ooh, yes! He could bring Captain Ardern with him too!" Lydia squealed with delight at the mere thought of his company.

Darcy glanced across to Mr. Bennet. Elizabeth's father leaned back in his chair, the corner of his mouth twitching as he suppressed a smile. Although he was no doubt listening to the general conversation, his eyes were staring across the table, at his daughter.

When he returned his attention towards Elizabeth, Darcy could see the mortification which her family's words had provoked. However, the mention of Cresswell's name had not affected him as much as it might have done. Indeed, he had received a childish sort of gratification that the man he considered to be his rival had not yet secured an invitation to dinner with the Gardiners.

Another man he had once considered to be competition for Elizabeth's affections was sitting across the dinner table, and Darcy almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous his concerns had been about Nathan Bennet's arrival in the country. Mr. Bennet was proud of his nephew, and should remain so if the boy could be weaned away from Henry Ardern's unfortunate influence, to become his own man.

Darcy had already made his concerns known to Mr. Bennet. It was now his uncle's responsibility to deal with the problem and find a good reason to remove his nephew from the temptations of London until the next term began at Cambridge. Darcy had had some ideas of his own on that subject, but wished to make a few enquiries before he laid the details before Elizabeth's father.

"Well, Lizzy, did my aunt finally manage to entice you to the warehouses and the dressmaker, as she so desired?"

Mr. Bennet chuckled to himself. "What do you know of dressmakers, Nathan?"

"Nothing but what Uncle Henry told me," he admitted with a genial grin. "But I do know that Lizzy has neither spent time nor money enough in that establishment to satisfy my Aunt Bennet. All my other cousins happily submitted to her will, even Mary!"

On Mr. Bennet's far side, Mary rolled her eyes. "A most tiresome procedure. I should infinitely prefer reading an improving book to being dressed up like a child's doll."

Georgiana giggled, admitting shyly that her preference would have been for the shopping rather than the reading.

Darcy returned his gaze to Elizabeth. "Your reluctance astonishes me, Miss Bennet. I thought all ladies enjoyed buying new clothes. I know that my sister does, without applying to her, for I am regularly presented with the tradesmen's accounts to testify to the fact."

"I have no issue with visiting either warehouse or modiste, Mr. Darcy." She lowered her voice and turned away from the far end of the table. "The problem lies in the difference of opinion between myself and my mother. Mrs Bennet insists on scouring pattern books and magazines so she can dress me in the latest fashions of the day, regardless of my own predilection, or their suitability. Aunt Gardiner, on the other hand, makes a perfect companion on these occasions, for she knows to suggest only those patterns which concur with my own preferences."

Mrs Gardiner nodded her head, acknowledging her nieces comment as being a fair one.

"This is yet another occasion when Jane is sorely missed," Elizabeth continued. "When we shopped together, Mama would turn her attention towards selecting items for Jane, allowing me relative freedom in my own choices."

Darcy leaned closer, and spoke softly. "Perhaps you might prefer to join Georgiana on her next shopping expedition? I am sure she would be grateful for your company and advice, as would I."

"You are very kind, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied. He caught a glimpse of another tantalisingly brief smile before she turned to reply to a question from the other end of the table.

"You are fortunate to have little interest in fashion," her cousin suggested, once Elizabeth's attention had once more returned to the centre of the table. "Imagine the poor ladies of Kingston. They are perpetually three months or more behind the latest London designs, and they bemoan the fact constantly. Upon their arrival in the Caribbean, any woman is questioned in minute detail about the current trends, and magazines depicting the different styles are always very much in demand; being passed around the drawing rooms like contraband goods."

"Nathan, please desist! I have no interest in discussing feminine apparel at the dinner table," Mr. Bennet grumbled. "If you find yourself with a particular passion for the subject, you may satisfy yourself by quizzing Lydia about it later. If you continue in this vein we will find ourselves talking of sleeves next, and that is guaranteed to give me heartburn."

Darcy took the opportunity to change the direction of the conversation by enquiring of Nathan Bennet about his earlier life in Jamaica, and his impressions of that far flung colony. Mr. Bennet gave a brief resume of his brother's reasons for leaving England, before Darcy turned to his nephew. "How long was your father on the island before he married?"

"More than ten years."

"Can you believe that my brother actually worked his passage to the Caribbean from America?" Mr. Bennet interrupted. "I recall him spending time with our father dealing with estate matters, as all eldest sons must do, but I never imagined him doing such physical labour as that of a common sailor."

Darcy frowned. "There is one part of this story I do not understand. Why did he not return home?"

Nathan Bennet looked slightly embarrassed by the question, and glanced at Mr. Bennet. Upon seeing his uncle's nod, he explained. "Although there is no record of the five years immediately after the ship he was travelling on had foundered, I am convinced that he was not in a position to travel."

"He was held captive, you mean?"

Mr. Bennet shrugged. "This is conjecture on Nathan's part. He has no proof to back up his assertions. Only half remembered comments and cryptic remarks." Sweeping up his glass from the table, he brought it to his lips, savouring the flavour of the wine. "You must recall that we were at war with the American Colonies when the ship was lost. Obviously John survived the wreck, but he would have more likely been picked up by an American or French vessel than the British Navy, which at the time were too busy defending our territories to worry about anything else. Being of the right age, they may have even thought him an Army deserter. How could he disprove the allegation?"

The young man agreed. "Had a British ship picked up a survivor, he would have been returned home, regardless of their suspicions. I do not know how the ship was lost; my father mentioned a storm once, but I was very young and the details are no longer clear to me."

"But surely, even the Americans would have allowed a prisoner of war to write to his family."

Nathan held up his hands in resignation. "We have no information on that period of his life, and it was something he did not discuss; not with me, nor with anyone I spoke to. However, early on in his journal he recorded that he wrote to his family in England, asking for financial assistance to return home, but received no reply."

"And the reason he did not receive a reply was because no letter from my brother ever reached Longbourn," Mr. Bennet explained sadly. "Even should the estate have been destitute, my father and I would have mortgaged it to the hilt had we received even a hint that John was alive."

"Why did he not work his passage back to England?" Darcy asked Mr. Bennet.

"That was probably his original intent. Perhaps he saw a ship to Jamaica as a first step towards home. However, he was soon taken in by an old gentleman from Scotland called Morrison, who held a small plantation on the island. His wife and three sons had succumbed to one of the tropical illnesses prevalent in the area, and he offered John employment, which was gratefully accepted. He began work as his steward, using the experience he had assimilated from helping my father. Eventually, when Mr. Morrison died he willed everything to John, having no living relatives."

Mr. Bennet sat back in his chair, the remains of his meal long forgotten. "You must understand, Mr. Darcy, that my brother was rather adventurous as a boy. He had always longed to travel, although his responsibility as the eldest son meant that he would have been tied to Longbourn once my father died. Given the opportunity offered him in Jamaica, I would not have put it past him to have chosen to stay. Although I have no doubt that at least one letter was sent to Longbourn, had we replied, John would have felt himself honour bound to return, even if that option was no longer to his liking."

"Well, it certainly is a fascinating story. And are you as adventurous as your father was, sir?" Darcy asked Nathan Bennet.

"Probably not." The young man gave him an embarrassed smile. "I have had my fill of tropical storms and poisonous snakes. The English countryside is thankfully devoid of those trials, and the weather—so far at least—has much to recommend it. Perhaps I might change my mind once I experience the snow and cold of winter, but even then I think I will be content to live out my remaining days without stepping foot outside England."

"And I have no plans to follow my brother's example." Mr. Bennet spoke jovially, but Darcy noticed a bleak expression in his eyes; as though the regrets for the fate of his brother still weighed heavily on him. "All my journeys, henceforth, will take place between the pages of a good book!"

"You mentioned a journal belonging to your Father. Was it a diary of his life?"

"Yes, a diary in part, but it would best be described as his memoirs. He occasionally recorded details of his life on the island, from a month following his arrival in Jamaica, right up until the day before his death. Sometimes it was only one or two lines; other occasions warranted half a page or more. Although I had seen it on his desk many times, I did not understand what it was until it was found among his possessions." Nathan Bennet sighed. "Had I known about it earlier, there would have been many questions I could have asked him about the details he secreted within its pages."

"I have heard about your impressive library in Derbyshire, Mr. Darcy. If you enjoy reading, perhaps you would like to take a look at my brother's handiwork? I considered having it published and would appreciate your opinion before I make a final decision."

"I would be honoured to read it, sir, if you do not consider the contents to be of a private nature. I am acquainted with a gentleman who publishes manuscripts from an office just off the Strand. Would you like me to enquire whether he can take on the task for you?"

"Yes. thank you. I have been thinking about it for some time, but I will admit that I was at a loss how I might proceed. Your assistance would be appreciated."

Darcy relaxed in his chair, satisfied with both the food and the company. The Bennet family never ceased to surprise him with their disparity. On one hand Elizabeth, her father and the Gardiners were, without doubt, some of the most pleasant company he could wish for. Even though the Bennets could be lively at times—he would go so far as to say 'loud' on occasions—he no longer felt so uncomfortable or out of place among them. Perhaps it was something as simple as becoming accustomed to the noisy atmosphere that surrounded them, but even Mrs Bennet's shrill voice from the end of the table had been less grating than was customary. If he could, with regular exposure, become comfortable in the company of Elizabeth's mother, then truly anything might be possible.

A satisfying thought indeed.

~~*~~

The Gardiners were not in the habit of separating the ladies from the gentlemen after a family dinner, but on this occasion Mr. Bennet had suggested to his sister that Mr. Darcy might appreciate the gesture, being unfamiliar, as he was, with prolonged exposure to the whole Bennet family in such an intimate setting.

As the ladies were ushered out of the dining room, Mrs Bennet had loudly questioned the need for the gentlemen to remain at table, but Mrs Gardiner had thankfully turned her attention with a well timed question, and their voices faded as they passed down the hall.

After some minutes of genial conversation, Mr. Gardiner was regaling them with a humorous story about one of his recent business transactions when his wife popped her head around the door and begged her husband's presence. Nathan took the opportunity to join him as they made their way back to the drawing room, but, as Darcy stood to follow, Mr. Bennet surprised him by asking him to remain behind.

"Before we return, I wondered whether you could spare me a moment of your time, Mr. Darcy?"

"Certainly, sir." He resumed his seat.

Mr. Bennet took the decanter from the table and refilled their glasses, before returning to his chair.

"I would first of all like to thank you again for your words of warning regarding Captain Ardern. I suspected something of his character on our first meeting, and had been concerned about Nathan's reliance on him as a companion. As you will appreciate, coming only recently to England, my nephew has not yet developed any acquaintance of his own age. Alas, I lack the experience in dealing with young men to know the best way of managing him. Meryton will seem rather pedestrian to him after these weeks spent in town."

"The only experience I can offer is that of someone who was once a young man, very like your nephew. You mentioned your intention to send him to Cambridge, but, until that event comes to pass, giving him some form of occupation to fill his time would not go amiss."

"Yes, I have no doubt that you are correct. I will have to think on it more carefully." He raised the glass to his lips and savoured the spirit before allowing it to run down his throat. "There is a second matter I would like to speak about, concerning my daughter. Elizabeth explained that your sister has extended an invitation to visit your home in Derbyshire. She has asked my permission to go."

Darcy could not help but be gratified by this news, although he did try to school his features in an attempt at nonchalance. "She did? My sister will be very pleased."

With a suspicious twitch of his lips, Mr. Bennet twirled his glass in front of the candle. "I will admit that her request came as somewhat of a surprise to me. I had not realised that my daughter and your sister shared such a great acquaintance."

"Georgiana has grown very fond of Miss Bennet; particularly after the kindness she showed during our stay in Hertfordshire for Mr. and Mrs Bingley's wedding. I appreciate your daughter's kind attention to Georgiana. She has always been rather shy with strangers, but Miss Bennet seems to have the capacity to make her feel safe and welcome." Darcy smiled warmly at the memory. "I know that they have continued their friendship by correspondence since June."

"Correspondence you say? I was not aware of that. Was this idea of yours first suggested in a letter to my daughter?"

Darcy felt a cold weight settle in the pit of his stomach as he heard the accusation in Mr. Bennet's light-hearted words. "I did not suggest the invitation," he replied evenly. "Although I have no objection to it. When I brought my sister here on Saturday, she heard that your daughter's travelling plans for the summer had unfortunately been cancelled. Georgiana could see that Miss Bennet was saddened that she would no longer be able to visit the Lakes or Derbyshire, as had been intended. She asked me whether it would be possible for her to join us at Pemberley instead, to compensate for that disappointment in some small way. I saw no reason not to allow Georgiana to make the invitation."

"Hmm. Well, I am sure that your property is delightful. Do you mind me asking who else you expect to be at your home at that time?"

"Apart from myself and Georgiana, there will be my sister's companion, Mrs Annesley."

Mr. Bennet remained silent for a few minutes, and his brow creased as he considered the information he had been given. "I assume that this lady would be acting as chaperone for both the young ladies whilst in your house," he asked seriously.

"Yes, sir. Mrs Annesley has been in my employ for almost a year now, and I have found her to have exceptional standards. I would not expect anything less for my sister."

"And I would expect nothing less for my daughter either. I am confident of your honour and integrity. Anyone only has to observe how you care for your sister to understand that."

He watched as Mr. Bennet swirled the brandy in his glass thoughtfully. There seemed to be something still troubling Elizabeth's father, and he hoped that it would not affect their plans. Although his intentions for the summer had already been communicated to the staff at Pemberley, Darcy would struggle to leave London if Elizabeth was not permitted to join them.

Eventually, Mr. Bennet cleared his throat. "I find myself in an uncomfortable position. While I have no doubt that the relationship between your sister and Elizabeth is exactly as you say, I must admit that I do not believe that this invitation was offered purely for Miss Darcy's benefit alone. Especially after sitting across the table from you and Elizabeth at dinner."

Darcy opened his mouth to speak, but Mr. Bennet's raised hand made him pause.

"Please, sir. Hear me out. I would not normally broach this subject on any account, but as Elizabeth will be spending some weeks in your house, I feel duty bound to ensure that she is properly cared for while in the country. I cannot help but wonder whether one chaperone will be sufficient. Mrs Annesley is no doubt an honourable lady, but she is in your employ and will therefore take her direction from you. In what position would that leave my daughter?"

Stunned, as he was by the implications of Mr. Bennet's comment, Darcy could not begrudge the truth of his words. Had Georgiana been in a similar situation his thoughts might have been much the same. While Darcy was likewise uncomfortable discussing his feelings for Elizabeth, the problem of having another chaperone was one problem he did have a solution for. Taking a deep breath, he said, "While speaking to your daughter this evening, she told me how much she had missed the company of her eldest sister. I had already considered the possibility of writing to Bingley in Scarborough and inviting him and his wife to Pemberley, and Miss Bennet's words decided me on the matter. I did not mention this before as I have yet to send them my request, although I do not doubt they will acquiesce. I thought that their presence might be a pleasant surprise for your daughter upon her arrival in Derbyshire. If she is able to attend, would Mrs Bingley's presence at Pemberley satisfy your concerns?"

At this news, Mr. Bennet's smile became a wide grin. "You would do that for Elizabeth? Yes, I believe that would satisfy propriety on this occasion, and it would also serve to make Lizzy very happy, as you are no doubt already aware. Very well, in that case I am happy for my daughter to join you and Miss Darcy."

"Thank you, sir."

Mr. Bennet then stood and indicated that they should return to the rest of the guests. However, before they left the room, the older man paused in the doorway. "You, more than most men, know how precious Elizabeth is to me. I trust that you will take special care of her?"

Darcy considered the question. Was Mr. Bennet's enquiry purely related to their planned visit to Pemberley, or was he thinking of a longer term arrangement? "Certainly, sir. Miss Bennet will want for nothing while she is a guest in my house. It will be as though she were my own … sister."

"Hmph!" Mr. Bennet scowled at him and shook his head, but the charade could not last, and his pursed lips curved slightly. "I have seen the way you look at Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy; there is little point in denying your interest in her. Whether or not you take it further obviously depends on Elizabeth's opinion of you. As much as I admire you, I will not intercede on your behalf. I learned a long time ago that Lizzy will not be led in any direction she does not wish to go."

Darcy nodded, accepting the information that Elizabeth's father was providing, but unwilling to give voice to the admission he seemed to be looking for.

At this, Mr. Bennet's face suddenly broke into a smile. "You do know that you have your work cut out for you, I assume?"

Darcy looked down at his shoes for a moment, willing his racing heart to calm. Finally, he looked directly at the man for whom he had developed a genuine regard. "Yes, sir, I do, but ... but I believe the effort will be worthwhile in the end."

Mr. Bennet laughed now, as he clapped him on the shoulder. "In that case, I wish you well in your endeavour. You know that I could not part with her to anyone less worthy."

~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~

Chapter thirty-eight.

The next day dawned grey and gloomy, as a light but steady rain encouraged the residents of Gracechurch Street to remain indoors. As much as Elizabeth enjoyed staying at the Gardiners' house, since the Bennet family had taken up residence there was little quiet to be found within.

Mrs Bennet was in the parlour with Lydia and Kitty, where their enthusiasm for gossip was far greater than their interest in their embroidery. Mary sat with Frances and Mary Gardiner in the dining room, showing them how to decorate a box with curled strips of paper. Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet were looking over some papers in the office, while Mrs Gardiner was discussing that day's menu with her cook.

With everyone's attention engaged elsewhere, Elizabeth had taken the rare opportunity to return upstairs alone, and was spending an hour on her bed with a book from her uncle's small collection, although she had barely read a word. In the silence of her room, she had allowed her thoughts to wander to the previous evening, when she had been seated next to Mr. Darcy.

Could she deceive herself any longer? The more she observed him, the more she could see the ways in which he had tried to please her; his particular interest in the dishes that she had preferred; his sympathy regarding her separation from Jane and his generous offer to have her things brought from Longbourn. Had she imagined his attention? No, surely not. Mr. Darcy must truly esteem her to act in such a way.

Elizabeth's feelings for Mr. Darcy were still new and untested, but that did not make them any less sincere. She had felt such a burst of happiness when he had held the chair for her as she sat next to him at the table; sure that it was more than mere gentlemanly behaviour that had prompted his actions. Her heart had almost stopped when he had leaned closer; his voice dropping almost to a whisper. She had felt such flutterings in her stomach when he had looked into her eyes and held her enthralled as he had expressed his hope that she could accompany his sister when she went shopping. By the end of the evening, she had been unable to look at him without blushing, and yet she would have talked with him all night.

When Nathan and Mr. Gardiner had returned to the parlour, Elizabeth's eyes had fixed on the door, waiting for Mr. Darcy's return, and she remembered her disappointment when he had not followed them. When he had returned to the room, his gaze had immediately sought her out, and he had continued to watch her surreptitiously for the remainder of the evening.

Her mother burst through the door without warning. "My dear Lizzy, make haste and hurry downstairs. He is come!"

Elizabeth's first thought was that he was Mr. Darcy, perhaps returning with his sister, but her mother had never been so agitated by his presence. "Who is come?"

"Lord Cresswell is here ... alone! And in this dreadful weather too! Stir yourself, girl. Oh, look at your hair—what a sight—and where is your sash? How can you become so dishevelled just from reading a book? I must call for Sarah to redress it. You are not fit to be seen!"

For a moment, Elizabeth remained immobile, so surprised was she at the mention of his name. When Lord Cresswell had last visited them, it was in the company of Nathan and Captain Ardern, and it had been easy for her to dismiss his inclusion in the party as of little significance, despite his flattering attention towards her and her father's teasing about the gentlemen who had called at the house. Before leaving, Lord Cresswell had expressed a polite wish to call again and Mrs Bennet had tenaciously clung to that hope; mentioning it every day since. Elizabeth, however, had always assumed that it had been nothing more than lip service to appease her mother. For him to now visit Gracechurch Street again, and on his own, put the matter in a different light, and she paled as she considered the possible implications of his visit.

Accepting the hurried assistance of the maid without complaint, she followed Mrs Bennet downstairs where Mrs Gardiner was keeping the visitor suitably occupied until her niece could be produced. When Elizabeth stepped into the room, the colour which had been driven from her face returned with an additional glow, and her delight added lustre to her eyes as she perceived his pleasure upon seeing her.

However, any satisfaction Elizabeth might have gained from the meeting was soon quashed when Lord Cresswell was received by Mrs Bennet with a degree of civility which made her despair. Even her aunt was cringing at her sister's insincere flattery.

"You are too kind, sir, to think of calling on us in such inclement weather. Did you by chance have business in this part of town?"

"Business? No, Ma'am."

"Oh! And are your family all well? How is Lady Rempstone today?"

"As far as I am aware, all my family are all in good health, Mrs Bennet."

"I am glad of it. Lady Rempstone was exceedingly kind to me when we were last at Rempstone House. She is so solicitous of her guests welfare."

Acknowledging Mrs Bennet's comments with a polite smile, Lord Cresswell then turned to Elizabeth and asked after her own health.

She accepted his enquiries with good grace, although she felt a growing discomfort with every syllable that was uttered. Mrs Bennet had encouraged her to sit on the settee, close to the chair where Lord Cresswell had been placed, and each word they exchanged was done so under the watchful eye of her mother, her aunt and her younger sisters. Elizabeth had never really appreciated before how much Jane had had to put up with during the visits Mr. Bingley had made to Longbourn, and she now regretted not being more sympathetic of her situation at the time.

"Lord Cresswell, do you not think that Elizabeth looks very well in yellow?" Mrs Bennet asked, when the conversation once again fell silent.

"Yes, Ma'am. I would have to agree," he replied cheerfully; seeming to enjoy the entertainment her mother provided.

Lowering her eyes, Elizabeth thought she heard Kitty whisper something suspiciously like, "It appears as though yellow suits Lydia just as well", before receiving what sounded like a pinch from her maligned sister. Elizabeth blushed, and not only at their behaviour. Although Lord Cresswell had addressed his comments to Mrs Bennet, his eyes had been drawn to her—or rather her dress—and it had not been difficult to guess the direction of his thoughts.

"Elizabeth is not as beautiful as Jane, of course. You have not yet met my eldest daughter, sir. She was always considered the beauty of the family; it is not surprising that Mr. Bingley snapped her up when he did."

Elizabeth's mortification grew with each sentence her mother uttered. Unfortunately, Mrs Bennet was oblivious to Elizabeth's feelings as she continued to enumerate what she considered to be her second daughter's more modest accomplishments with as much grace as she could manage. Elizabeth watched with horror as Lord Cresswell continued to smile pleasantly and appeared to agree with all of her mother's ridiculous observations without even batting an eyelid.

Mrs Bennet seemed greatly pleased by his courtesy towards her. "I understand from Captain Ardern that your Mother remains in the country."

"Yes, she does not care for town and keeps to our estate as much as possible. It is not far—no more than thirty-eight miles—and it is a good road through St. Albans and Luton."

"Do you intend to join her for the summer?" Elizabeth asked quickly, trying to wrest back control of the conversation from her mother.

"I have not yet finalised my plans," he replied, glancing at Elizabeth. "Unfortunately, I do have to travel home tomorrow—on business that cannot be delayed—but I only intend to stay for a few days."

Elizabeth thought that she could discern a genuine regret in his tone.

"Well, when you do return you must come to dinner, do you not agree, Sister?"

Mrs Gardiner nodded her assent, and Elizabeth blessed her aunt's forbearance in the face of such provocation.

"Perhaps you could all join me at the theatre one evening after my return? I am sure we will be able to find some suitable form of entertainment, even if only at the Little Theatre."

Mrs Bennet was beyond pleased by the suggestion. "Oh! That sounds delightful, does it not, Lizzy?"

"Yes, his Lordship is most kind."

"And what of your younger sister?" Mrs Bennet asked. "Would she be joining us, or does she intend to return with you to the country?"

"No, Eleanor will remain with Lady Rempstone. My sisters are very close, and she would not think of leaving town at this time."

Elizabeth smiled at the fondness in his voice as Lord Cresswell spoke of his sisters. He had made it clear, without voicing it in words, that Lady Eleanor would stay with her sister until her child was safely delivered.

Mrs Bennet, listening avidly to the conversation, could not resist adding her own opinion to the discussion. "Childbirth is such a trying time for any woman. No one knows what I suffered when Elizabeth was born. I am sure there was some manner of great neglect on the part of the midwife. Your sister, I suppose, has excellent medical care?"

Oh no! Surely even Mama knows better than to speak of this? Elizabeth felt she would surely die from her embarrassment.

If Lord Cresswell was surprised by the direction of the conversation, he was careful not to show it. He schooled his expression into a polite mask, which reminded her a little of Mr. Darcy's detached countenance at the Netherfield Ball.

"She certainly does, Ma'am. Lord Rempstone is very attached to his wife, and wishes only the best for her."

Forcing her features to appear more at ease that she felt, Elizabeth asked, "Your brother already has an heir, does he not?"

The Viscount grinned at her obvious effort to deflect the conversation onto a more suitable subject. "Yes he does, Miss Bennet. Young Philip is a fine boy, and almost five years old now."

Elizabeth's attention was suddenly drawn to the parlour door, which was opening slowly to admit a rather wet Henry Gardiner, carrying one of the stray cats that inhabited the coach house. The poor animal was held in a firm grip; its back legs swaying alarmingly as the boy struggled with it towards his mother.

Mrs Bennet paled at the sight. "Henry! Remove that creature this instant! Can you not see we have a guest?"

"But ..." Henry cast a pleading glance at Mrs Gardiner. "He's injured his paw." He held out the offending limb for inspection.

With an almost apologetic glance towards Elizabeth, the Viscount left his seat and, in two long strides, knelt down before the bedraggled pair and asked to examine the injury.

"Please do not trouble yourself, my Lord!"

"It is no trouble, Mrs Bennet," he replied, waving away her protest. "My mother has a cat at home who keeps her company and is an excellent mouser." He made a cursory glance of the injured animal. "Ah, I can see the problem. He has a small stone lodged deep between the pads of his paw." Turning to look at Elizabeth, he said, "I am sure one of the ladies has a needle they would allow me to borrow."

"A needle? My daughter will be happy to oblige you. Lizzy, where is your work basket?"

"Here, Mama." Elizabeth reached for the handkerchief she had been working on. "Does my Lord require the thread as well?" she asked, smiling as she held up the length of deep purple embroidery silk attached to the needle.

He grinned as he shook his head. "The point alone is sufficient, thank you. I do not profess to being a surgeon, but I can use the point to pry out the tiny stone, in the same way as I would use a knife to clear a foreign object from a horse's hoof."

Lord Cresswell took the offered needle, now divested of its silken strand, from Elizabeth's fingers and crouched beside boy and cat. He spent no more than a minute with the animal, whilst the unfortunate feline bemoaned its fate with a series of yelps and growls.

"There ... it is done."

"Oh! How clever you are!" Mrs Bennet cried effusively.

"It was nothing, Ma'am. However, the site of the stone's removal may be sore." He looked towards Henry. "Your stable master will have something to help with this. Perhaps you can show me the way and we will visit him together?"

Not one to miss an opportunity, Mrs Bennet turned to her daughter. "Show Lord Cresswell to the stables, Lizzy, there's a good girl." She began to wink at Elizabeth. "A turn in the yard will be beneficial for both of you, I am sure."

Not convinced by the health giving properties of the air in London's overpopulated commercial district, Elizabeth nevertheless wrapped her shawl around her shoulders before leading the way out to the courtyard beyond. She was grateful that the rain had now ceased, but it was still necessary to dance around the puddles to avoid getting the hem of her dress excessively wet.

Once the man had been found, and his assistance solicited, Lord Cresswell stepped into the stables to inspect the Gardiners carriage horses. He turned to watch Elizabeth curiously as she remained distant from the animals. When he beckoned her closer, and offered to show her something of interest, she shook her head.

"Come, Miss Bennet. Do not tell me that you are frightened of horses."

"Not at all. I just choose not to stand too close to them."

"Close to them? Or do you avoid standing too close to me?" He chuckled softly. "I am sure your mother will not object."

No, she would be overjoyed, Elizabeth admitted to herself. Just then, one of the animals, unaccustomed to the attention, shook it's head and snorted loudly, stamping its hoof on the ground and causing her to retreat even further away.

"Ah, it is the horses you are averse to." His relief was palpable. "Their power and strength scare you; I can see it in your eyes. Did you never learn to ride?"

"Yes, sir, but I have not been near a horse for many years. I was but a small girl."

"And yet you are now a grown woman, and still you are scared." He moved, circling around her like a lion stalking his prey, until he stopped right behind her.

He was so close that Elizabeth could almost feel the heat of his body. He was not touching her, but the distance was negligible. Lord Cresswell leaned forward; his face close to her ear. She could feel his breath against her neck. Finally, he spoke in a low voice which sent shivers down her spine.

"It must have been a bad experience for it to affect you in such a manner."

She heard all the concern in his question, and for a moment the two of them stood, unmoving. Then she broke the spell and turned away from him, taking a step closer to the stable door. The heat in her skin felt like fire, and she knew that her cheeks were glowing. The accident that had left her wary of horses affected her far less than Lord Cresswell's close proximity had. She could still not believe he was here, and proving his attraction towards her beyond doubt, but she could no longer deny it.

If his very presence was not enough, his earnest looks and intimate style of conversation convinced Elizabeth of his interest in her. She could not help but be flattered by his attentions, especially when he could have his choice of any woman in society, but she did not know him well enough to form an opinion.

Unsteadily, she answered his question. "I fell and broke my arm when I was young." She held her arm out in front of her, turning it slowly. "It healed well, but I found I had no inclination to begin riding again."

His hand came up, and, thinking that he might grasp her arm to inspect it, Elizabeth quickly lowered it and clasped her hands behind her back.

Instead, he used the raised hand to brush away a loose piece of straw which had attached itself to his coat. "And are your opinions fixed on this subject?"

"No, sir. I suppose that should I find it necessary to ride in the future I could overcome my doubts."

At that moment, Henry came into the stables and held his hand up to stroke the nose of the nearest horse.

Seemingly grateful for the interruption, the Viscount turned his attention towards her cousin. "How is your cat now, young man?"

"He has run away into the corner of the stable."

"Off to lick his wound, no doubt. Now, tell me, sir. Are you enjoying having your cousins staying with you?"

The boy was thoughtful, before lifting his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug.

Lord Cresswell crouched on the dirt floor of the stables, so he was down at the boy's own level. He turned and glanced at Elizabeth. "Is Miss Bennet here a good cousin?" He asked in a conspiratorial whisper. "Does she bring you treats or join you in playing with your toys?"

"No, but I like Lizzy very much. She is very kind."

"Ah, and does Lizzy play the piano for you in the evening?"

Elizabeth gasped at the familiar use of her name, and he looked up at her; his expression contrite.

"No, Mary is the one who is always playing the piano, but she doesn't play very well."

The Viscount laughed and Elizabeth thought she heard him mumble: "Out of the mouth of babes..." but she was too annoyed with her young cousin for speaking his mind so freely to pay it any mind.

"Henry! I think you should return to the house."

Hearing Elizabeth's annoyed tone, the young boy did not have to be told twice and he ran across the yard towards the door. Elizabeth then turned a stern eye on her visitor, who visibly winced under her gaze as he straightened. Before she could open her mouth to express her disappointment in his behaviour, he held up his hands in submission.

"Please, Miss Bennet. You must accept my sincere apologies. My faux pas was unintentional, I assure you. I realise that I am not in a position to address you in such a familiar manner, but I have to admit that I find your Christian name very appealing—such a regal appellation—and that particular diminutive form suits you so well. It shares your fire and liveliness; like the bubbles in champagne."

"That may be so, sir, but as you have rightly pointed out, I have not given you leave to call me by any such name, and I do not imagine that that situation will ever change." Elizabeth could tell that he wanted to object to her assertion, but she did not give him the opportunity to challenge her as she started walking towards the house, leaving him to follow. "Were my mother to hear you address me thusly, you would not be allowed to leave without being put in the most awkward of positions. You have no doubt noticed that she is not always sensible."

He fell in step beside her, a wide grin on his face. "On the contrary, I find Mrs Bennet quite charming."

"That is unfortunate, for such a pronouncement makes me doubt your sanity. I would imagine my mother to be as bad as any in London."

"Not at all. Mrs Bennet is very simple. By that I mean her needs are few, and understandable. I remember telling you at Rempstone House that I abhor the deceitfulness of society's matrons. They say one thing and mean another; their gossip is rife with lies and half-truths. They want nothing more than to marry their charge off in the most advantageous fashion, and they would trample over friend and foe alike to attain their goal. Although your mother's requirements are much the same, she never dissembles and she does not hide her hopes and dreams ... on the contrary, I know exactly what your mother wishes."

Elizabeth stopped walking and turned to look at him. "You do?"

"Of course. She needs little encouragement to think that every bachelor who arrives here is perfect for one or other of her daughters."

"And knowing this does not concern you?"

The Viscount looked down into Elizabeth's eyes, as his lips curved up into a lopsided grin. Momentarily silent, Elizabeth felt that he was about to speak, but his eyes flashed as his attention was caught by something, or someone, over her shoulder. Clearing his throat, he said, "I think we should return inside, Miss Bennet. I see your mother at the window and I believe she is wondering what is keeping us. It would be cruel to maintain her apprehension." Saying that, he offered Elizabeth his arm and led her back to the door.

While Elizabeth doubted her mother was thinking any such thing, she allowed herself to be returned to the house without comment.

Inside Mrs Bennet, far from wondering where they had been, seemed more concerned that they had not remained outside long enough. She tried her utmost to make their visitor stay for tea, or even dinner; indeed, Elizabeth would not have been surprised if she had offered him a bed for the night. But, after refusing all offers, and collecting his hat and gloves from the side table, Lord Cresswell regretfully admitted that he had to leave.

"I do hope you will call again soon, my Lord. I pray that your business does not take you away from town for too long. I am sure that Lizzy will be vastly pleased to see you again when you return. Lizzy! Show his Lordship out, there's a good girl."

Elizabeth could not help but smile at her behaviour. Somehow, the fact that Lord Cresswell knew what her mother was trying to do, and accepted it, made her feel far less uncomfortable or embarrassed than she would normally have been. He had excused all her mother's blatant attempts at matchmaking, and did not seem averse to being in Mrs Bennet's company. Perhaps the thought of him having serious intentions towards her was not quite so fantastical an idea at all.

They parted in the yard, as the stable-boy brought Lord Cresswell's horse out. Seeing Elizabeth's face fall at sight of the large animal, he waved his hand to signal the boy to keep back while he spoke to her.

"Do not worry, he will not harm you. He is as gentle as a lamb ... just like his master."

"I will have to take your word for it, sir."

He smiled. "I leave first thing tomorrow morning, and I hope to be back in town by the end of the week. Will you allow me to call again then, Miss Bennet?"

"Certainly. I am sure my mother will look forward to it."

He laughed heartily before executing a perfect bow. Elizabeth stepped back as the animal was brought forward and the Viscount mounted it with very little effort. He bid her farewell and tipped his hat before leaving the yard.

Inside the house, Mrs Bennet was rushing up and down the hall. "Oh, Lizzy! What a clever girl you are. Lord Cresswell is beyond everything the best man I can think of." Her mother turned as Mrs Gardiner came up behind her. "Did you not see, Sister? Is he not the most handsome man you have ever seen?"

"He certainly seemed a very pleasant looking gentleman."

"You know, I did not expect Lizzy to do as well as she has in town. Lady Cresswell! What clothes! What jewels! ... I shall go distracted!"

"Mama, please!"

"Well, if he has not asked you yet, then it cannot be long. I saw how he looked at you."

"You were watching me?"

"It was only for your own good, my girl. Your honour must be preserved!"

Elizabeth was beyond anger. "Were you mindful of my honour, or hoping to see something which you could use to force him to marry me?"

Mrs Bennet was unrepentant. "That man needs no trap. He is clearly besotted with you. I thought he was going to propose right there, in the middle of the yard."

Almost screaming with frustration, Elizabeth pushed past her mother, intent on returning to her room. However, Mrs Bennet's parting words kept returning to her, and she could not help remembering his smile and wondering what he might have said had they been left alone in the yard for just a few minutes longer.

~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~

Chapter thirty-nine.

Following Lord Cresswell's departure, Elizabeth escaped the company of her mother by spending the next hour and a half in blissful solitude in the stillroom at the rear of her aunt's house, and she gained a measure of satisfaction from her employment. Keeping her hands busy left her mind free to think.

As the Gardiner's house had no garden to speak of, one of the maids had been sent to the market the previous week for some rose petals, which Elizabeth had bruised and salted prior to their distillation. She felt a great contentment when she was able to create something useful, like her favourite rosewater or the muslin bags filled with dried petals and spices which she had made a few days earlier to freshen the drawers in her room.

Elizabeth's thoughts drifted naturally towards Lord Cresswell, and particularly the way he had behaved in the stables. His actions had been playful; almost childlike in their happy enthusiasm. The last time she had felt such flattering and concerted attention had been during those occasions she had been in the company of Mr. Wickham at Meryton. While she did not believe that the Viscount could be half so bad as the Lieutenant had turned out to be, his manners were not dissimilar and had left her wary.

During this time she also considered Mr. Darcy, and his visit the previous evening. Neither man appeared to have made much of an effort to hide their opinion of her. Both were eminent gentlemen; nothing like the sort of men Elizabeth had expected to take an interest in her. While in some respects they were very similar, there were also a number of differences that separated them.

After an acquaintance spanning some months—although, admittedly, not always as the best of friends—Mr. Darcy had shown himself to be a good and honourable man. The thought of spending time at his home, in his company, gave her no cause for concern. Indeed, Elizabeth felt as though she were only beginning to scratch the surface of his complex character, and only at Pemberley might his true nature be revealed.

While she could not accuse Lord Cresswell of anything specific, his lack of respect for the social niceties and proprieties put Elizabeth on her guard. The fact that he accepted her mother's behaviour so readily also concerned her. While she knew Mr. Darcy had never been completely comfortable in Mrs Bennet's presence, she admired the fact that he would not pretend a regard he did not feel merely to satisfy Elizabeth's sensibilities.

Hearing a knock on the door, she quickly jumped up from her stool only to find herself dropping back onto it in surprise as Mr. Briscoe's head poked into the small room. She sighed, as all thoughts of Mr. Darcy and Lord Cresswell were banished.

It had been the work of a moment to convince herself that Mr. Briscoe would not follow through with his threat to visit her again, but she had underestimated his tenacity.

"Miss Bennet, you are on your own? I did not realise. However, I will not apologise for invading your privacy. This situation is perfect for my needs. I was hoping for the opportunity to speak to you alone."

Feeling her stomach sink as she heard his statement, Elizabeth stood and wiped her hands on a nearby cloth before removing her apron. "I was just thinking about returning to the drawing room, Mr. Briscoe. Perhaps you would care to join me."

"On the contrary, I feel that I must speak to you now. I can wait no longer. My mother expects me home within the week."

Nodding her head reluctantly, Elizabeth lowered herself onto a small seat near the window, which also happened to be closer to the door. She was reminded of Mr. Collins' proposal at Longbourn, when her family had abandoned her in the dining room, forcing her to listen to his unwelcome offer of marriage. Of course, after such a short acquaintance Mr. Briscoe could hardly want to propose to her—that would be impossible—but she was worried that he might express a desire to know her better, or even have a misguided notion of wanting to court her formally. If that was the case, as she dreaded, at least here there would be no witnesses to her humiliation.

Mr. Briscoe appeared distracted as he paced to the end of the small room, before returning to face her. He cleared his throat noisily before starting to speak. "The Dowager Lady Rempstone has been most kind to me during my time in town, Miss Bennet, and I trust her judgement implicitly. My mother has long desired me to find someone suitable to bring home to Tunstal, and Lady Augusta has made me realise that you are just the sort of woman she would appreciate."

Elizabeth could not listen further without interrupting his declaration. "I am astonished that you would venture to guess what sort of person I am, sir, for I would consider a few hours acquaintance to be far short of the time necessary to know anyone."

"I beg to differ, Madam. Although my time spent with you was undeniably shorter than I would have liked, I did form a very favourable impression of you. Along with Lady Augusta's kind recommendation, that is all I need."

Elizabeth squirmed as he smiled at her. She was sure he intended it to be a comforting gesture, but under the circumstances she could take no relief from his jaundiced grin. She could not help but compare Mr. Briscoe, who smiled easily but insincerely, with Mr. Darcy. In the not too distant past she would have doubted anyone who told her that Mr. Darcy even knew how to smile, but it seemed that that particular skill had not eluded him after all. His countenance was definitely improved when he smiled, making him look younger, and less forbidding; unlike the man who remained in front of her, who just looked more ... yellow.

"I cannot let another moment pass without telling you that you are one of the most agreeable looking ladies I have ever had the fortune to dance with. Your face and features are incomparable to any other lady of my acquaintance. My good friend and near neighbour, Mr. Bayliss married only this spring. His wife was reputed by all to be a great beauty, but Mrs Bayliss is nothing compared to you. You will be feted as the most appealing, radiant woman in the whole of north Lancashire and Bayliss will finally be envious of my good fortune."

Elizabeth expected him to continue his monologue, but Mr. Briscoe paused, seemingly content to wait and hear her own opinion on the matter. Frankly, the idea of spending any more time with this man was too ridiculous even to contemplate, but Elizabeth at least needed him to say what he wanted before she was in a position to say no.

Finally noticing that she was reluctant to speak, Mr. Briscoe cleared his throat once more and ploughed on regardless. "I would like to go to your father with a favourable response from you."

"To my father? A response to what? You have asked me no question to which I can make a reply," Elizabeth said, irritated by his presumption. "If you intend to visit us in Hertfordshire—"

"Hertfordshire? I cannot wait that long. I have to be home within the week. Surely you cannot be so oblivious to my desire? I do not wish to court you … but to marry you." He stood straighter, puffing out his rather large chest. "I would be honoured if you would agree to be my wife, Miss Bennet." With the pronouncement of those words, he stood looking at her with a confident grin, as though he had given her the most wonderful gift and was waiting only for her rapturous outpourings of gratitude.

The idea of a proposal from a man she had spoken to only twice was beyond ridiculous, and her first thought was that he must be teasing her. However, it only took a moment for Elizabeth to realise that he was in earnest. While she could not seriously think of accepting his offer, she wanted to give him the impression that she had considered his request, if only for a moment. "I am sorry, Mr. Briscoe. Although I am sensible of the great honour you do me, I find myself unable to accept your kind offer."

His heavy brow creased when he heard her refusal. "May I ask why?"

"I do not love you. I do not even know you."

Once he understood her reason, his relief was obvious. "That is not an insurmountable problem. There will be time enough for that later, if it is what you wish. I shall go and speak to your father directly."

"No! No, Mr. Briscoe, that will not be necessary." She put her hands up to stay his exit. "There can be no reason for speaking to my father. I do not want to marry you." Elizabeth quickly considered what other reason he might better understand. "I would not be happy settled so far away from my family."

He smiled easily. "Ah, I was expecting that the distance might be a consideration for you. But you will not have to remain there forever. I will, of course, allow you to visit Hertfordshire every year if you desire it. Of course, it would be impossible to travel in the winter, as the snow can get rather heavy. Spring and autumn may also be difficult, because the rain can make the roads an absolute quagmire. Of course, as a Lady, you may not wish to travel during the heat of summer. Coaches can be a devil to travel in when it is hot and the roads are dusty. However, you would not be completely lost to your family. I have noticed that ladies love to write. You would be able to write to them whenever you wish."

"Mr. Briscoe, your offer is very kind, but I cannot accept it."

He shook his head, dismissing her objections. "I know that my home seems distant to a young lady like yourself, but it is not really very far at all. I appreciate that ladies often have difficulty in appreciating the distance, having had no formal education in geography, so I quite understand your fears. I will mention your concerns to your father when I speak with him."

Elizabeth was angered that he thought her incapable of comprehending such things. "I have no difficulty understanding the distances involved. Please, Mr. Briscoe, I am sorry but I do not believe you are taking my answer seriously."

He favoured her with a sympathetic smile. "There is no need to apologise, Miss Bennet. You cannot help your lack of education. Women's brains are fashioned for more delicate tasks; do not worry yourself with the details. I will deal with everything." He moved closer to her, and reached out his hand to grasp hers. "What I am truly looking for is a wife who will be a companion to my ailing mother and a partner for me; someone to bear my children; someone of graceful manners and countenance." He stepped closer, his countenence betraying his satisfaction. "Bayliss will be green when I introduce you. I cannot wait to see his face."

Elizabeth sighed as she realised that, just as he had never attended her side of their conversation on the first evening of their acquaintance, he was now barely acknowledging her negative response, and sweeping aside any objections she might have. She made another half hearted attempt to dissuade him from taking up the matter with Mr. Bennet, but the gentleman would not be swayed from his intended action. All she could hope was that her parents, and Mrs Bennet in particular, might understand why she had felt it necessary to refuse a second proposal of marriage.

~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Mrs Gardiner paused in the lower hallway of her home, wondering how best to interrupt her niece's private conversation in the still room. Without putting her ear to the door—she would not lower herself to do that—she could only hear the faintest mumblings in the room beyond.

Confound that girl! Lydia's mischief had put her sister in a most awkward position; something the girl had known full well when she had come across the unattended guest waiting in the parlour.

When Mr. Briscoe had arrived and asked to see Lizzy, Mrs Gardiner had put him in the parlour before going to look for her niece. Upon returning to the room, she had found Lydia alone with such an expression of innocence on her face that she was convinced that some mischief had taken place. It had taken precious minutes before the girl had admitted what she had done. Castigating her had made no difference. Lydia had been prodigiously proud of her resourcefulness and had been completely unrepentant.

Taking a deep breath, Mrs Gardiner turned the handle and pushed the door open just in time to see Mr. Briscoe executing a florid bow towards Elizabeth. If he was surprised to see Mrs Gardiner enter the room, he did not show it.

"Madam, I would be vastly obliged to you if you could facilitate a private conference between myself and Mr. Bennet."

Elizabeth's aunt was momentarily stunned by the implications of his request. After seeing Mr. Darcy's behaviour towards her niece on Sunday, and being present for Lord Cresswell's visit on earlier that day, she had considered the possibility of Elizabeth marrying sooner rather than later, but this particular match was unexpected.

As though drawn by her thoughts, Elizabeth looked directly at her aunt. She did not appear happy at all, in fact, she seemed rather despondent. Mrs Gardiner wondered why her niece had chosen a union with the man in front of her when she could tell that he was not what Elizabeth wanted; regardless of what the gentleman might believe.

Once Mr. Briscoe had left them, Mrs Gardiner ordered tea before guiding Elizabeth to the now empty parlour for a more private discussion.

"My dear Lizzy, I am sorry that you were put in such an awkward position of entertaining Mr. Briscoe alone in that way." She went on to explain the circumstances of Mr. Briscoe's arrival. "I thought you had retired to your room, but Lydia came across him while I was away and she obviously knew better than I where you could be found. Rather than waiting for me, she gave him instructions on where to find you while I was still upstairs. Of course, I scolded her for her impudence, and sent her to her room—she thought it the most wonderful jest, as you can imagine—but by then it was too late."

Elizabeth smiled weakly. "Mr. Briscoe's arrival was certainly a surprise."

"Yes, I knew it would be. I do think that Lydia must be a little jealous of your recent visitors, having had none of her own. Perhaps that has prompted such unruly behaviour?"

Elizabeth gave her aunt a look which clearly refused to admit any justification for her youngest sister's bad manners.

Mrs Gardiner watched her warily as she sipped her tea. "Mr. Briscoe is now with your father," she added meaningfully, hoping that Elizabeth would confide in her. "I do not mean to pry, and if you do not want to speak of it I will, of course, respect your wishes."

Elizabeth sighed deeply, before turning anguished eyes towards her once more. "Oh, Aunt! A proposal of marriage after such a short acquaintance. How can that be? I thought that he might request a courtship, although that would have been equally abhorrent to me ... but marriage? I had no idea he felt so strongly."

"But it cannot be such a terrible thing, Lizzy. You have accepted him, after all."

"I did not accept him. I could not! He is ..." Elizabeth shook her head in frustration. "He would not listen when I said no. Everything I said, every reason I gave, was immediately discounted. My objections were nothing to him."

Aunt Gardiner smiled reassuringly as she patted Elizabeth's hand. "Well, dear, if that is the case then he would hardly have made a good husband, would he?"

"No, he most certainly would not! What will I do? He convinced himself that I have accepted him and he is now speaking to my father about it. What can I do?"

"You can give your father a little credit; he knows you too well. He will not accept Mr. Briscoe's word without speaking to you first, I am sure."

Elizabeth was still very clearly upset by the idea. "But what if he thinks that I should marry Mr. Briscoe? He is a rich man, after all. What will mama say when she finds out?"

"Your father thinks far too much of you not to take your feelings into account." Mrs Gardiner put a comforting hand on Elizabeth's arm. She could tell that her niece was worried about Mr. Bennet's response to the proposal. Surely she could not think that her parents might force her into an unwanted engagement? "Please do not worry about your mother. She had already left the house with Kitty for another fitting at the dressmakers when Mr. Briscoe arrived, and I do not expect her home for another hour or more. The establishment I recommended is very exacting with their measurements and fittings. Rest assured, my dear, that my sister's head will be too full of cambric, silk and lace to concern herself with one missed visitor. No one knows the reason for his call except for the two of us and your father. I promise that I will say nothing about it. Trust me, she will not learn about Mr. Briscoe's offer unless you tell her."

"I do hope you are right."

Mrs Gardiner was pleased to see that fortune was, for once, smiling on her niece. Although Lydia did not hesitate telling her mother about Mr. Briscoe's visit, her poor timing meant that the result was not quite what she expected.

Mrs Bennet's distraction came in the form of another suitor for one of her daughters. Mrs Gardiner smiled as she entered the room to see a red faced Mary sitting next to a rather nervous gentleman who was introduced as Mr. Newman. The young man balanced a cup of tea precariously on his knee while Mrs Bennet asked him countless questions about his family, his home, and more importantly his expectations.

Listening to the conversation, Mrs Gardiner could not help but be pleased, for Mary's sake, by the gentleman in front of her. Mary had always been a quiet child, who had struggled to gain any notice from either parent. It was good to see her being made the centre of attention for once. She was also mightily impressed with the young man who had called to see her.

Whenever Mrs Bennet paused to partake of her tea, Mr. Newman took the opportunity to resume his fractured discussion with Mary. Although he was obviously apprehensive, he did not permit her mother to completely dominate the discourse, and frequently drew Mary back into the conversation with a thoughtful comment or observation which never failed to challenge her opinions.

Impressed by his fortitude in the face of Mrs Bennet, Mrs Gardiner extended him an invitation to dinner, which seemed to satisfy Mr. Newman and Mary both. Once his call had ended, with a promise to return promptly that evening, Mrs Bennet sat back, satisfied with her afternoon's work. Only then did she notice Elizabeth, who had been sat quietly in the corner of the room throughout.

"Well, Miss Lizzy. Lydia tells me that Mr. Briscoe called while I was out. He must be very interested in you to call again so soon, despite you doing nothing to encourage him. Did you invite him for dinner? You should try and keep him interested, just in case nothing comes of Lord Cresswell's visit. While Lord Cresswell's company is preferable of course, any husband is better than none, and it will do you no good to slight one gentleman in the hopes of gaining another, regardless of how superior he might be." Looking at her daughter's expression, she added, "You will never find any husband if you do not put yourself forward, my girl. A gentleman likes to know that he is not wasting his valuable time calling here."

Mrs Bennet's expression then turned more cheerful. "Of course, your greatest efforts should be reserved for Lord Cresswell. My sister Gardiner should have invited him to dinner on Sunday evening, not the Darcys. Miss Darcy is a pleasant enough young girl, and I know that having her friendship reflects well on you, but when Mr. Darcy and your father get together all they do is shut themselves away, drinking port, and talking about the Lord knows what. Lord Cresswell would have been a much better choice. Had I managed to get a Viscount at the dinner table, that would have certainly been something to tell Lady Lucas when I next write. Sister, I know not what you were thinking of!"

Mrs Gardiner sighed. As much as she enjoyed having her sister and her family to stay with them, she was counting down the days until she could enjoy the peace of her own house once more.

~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~

Mr. Bennet let out a long slow breath and shook his head in exasperation as he watched his visitor leave. During the evening at Rempstone House, he had been briefly introduced to the gentleman who had just left him, but he had had no expectation of meeting Mr. Briscoe again so soon, and certainly not under these particular circumstances.

While he would be the first to admit that Mr. Briscoe was a wealthy man, with an income that would signal an imminent attack of his wife's 'nerves' just thinking about it, he could not overlook the uncomfortable feeling that this gentleman from the north was a long way short of being good enough for his favourite daughter. Thomas Bennet would have been more than happy to give his unconditional consent had the man shown an interest in Mary, Kitty, or especially Lydia. His income was more than sufficient. His estate had been bought by his father five years earlier from a bankrupt Marquis for a tidy sum. The grounds alone would have sent his wife into raptures over the number of farmworkers cottages the man had ordered demolished, purely to improve the prospect from the drawing room windows.

What he had found difficult to accept was Mr. Briscoe's assertions that Elizabeth had been desirous of accepting his proposal, and only the great distance from her family home was stopping her from providing him with a positive response. Mr. Bennet had been so surprised by his claim, that he had asked the man twice: had Elizabeth clearly stated that she wished to marry him? The first reply had been cautiously positive, but Mr. Briscoe had averted his eyes as he answered; a worrying sign under any circumstance. Only at the second time of asking did he reluctantly admit that she had not actually said yes, but that he was confident that only her reservations were stopping him from being made the happiest of men.

Until Mr. Bennet had satisfied himself on Elizabeth's own opinions, he was unwilling to give the blessing which the gentleman had so desired. Mr. Briscoe was encouraged to return the following day, after Mr. Bennet had spoken to his daughter, and found out her true opinion. He was certainly not going to encourage her to accept the proposal, as her suitor had so ignorantly hoped that he would, and might even find it necessary to dissuade her if he thought she might be considering the offer for reasons other than that her own happiness.

Later that afternoon, Mr. Bennet found the opportunity to speak to Elizabeth. He quietly requested a private word with her, before leading the way back to the small room he had been using in the Gardiner's house.

Once they were alone, she threw him a worried glance before taking the chair in front of him.

"Elizabeth, I am sure you know why I have asked to speak to you. I have no doubt that you are aware of my conversation with Mr. Briscoe."

He noticed that Elizabeth sighed at the mention of his name, and bit her lip nervously before studying her hands, which lay in her lap.

"Am I correct in saying that Mr. Briscoe has made you an offer of marriage, my child?"

"Yes, sir," she replied quietly.

Mr. Bennet paused a moment, both eager and reluctant to hear the answer to his next question. "And did you accept his proposal?" he enquired in a concerned tone.

"No, sir."

Her grave response to his question concerned him. She seemed almost uncomfortable with her answer. He had hoped for a more stringent denial of Mr. Briscoe's claims. For his daughter to be so subdued, Mr. Bennet was worried that there may be some truth to the man's suggestion after all. He decided to press her further on the subject to find out her true opinions of the man.

"Mr. Briscoe came to ask for my consent to your marriage, Lizzy. He wished to entreat my support of his suit. After I asked him directly, on two occasions, he finally admitted that you had not acquiesced completely..." Here he paused, hoping that his next comment would provoke a more familiar response. "But he insisted that his intention was to change your opinion of him by means of a constant and unstinting devotion. What say you to that, my dear?" He sat back in his chair and smiled.

"You are not angry that I said no?" she asked in quiet wonder. "I was so sure that you and Mama would be annoyed that I refused such a rich man, especially after ... Mr. Collins."

"I cannot speak for your mother, she knows nothing of this ... yet. For my part, as soon as he opened his mouth I considered Mr. Briscoe to be an ignorant buffoon, who obviously has more money than sense, but that would mean nothing if you really liked him."

"No, Papa, I do not like him. I hardly know him, and I do not wish to know him. He would not listen to me when I told him I did not want to marry him. I doubt whether he would listen to the opinions of any woman, save for Lady Augusta."

Her reply made him smile. Now this is more like my Lizzy! Mr. Bennet was relieved to hear her finally speak so confidently on the matter, but he still wanted to be sure for his own peace of mind.

"Mr. Briscoe believes that your only true objection was to the fact that Lancashire was such a great distance, and you did not wish to be settled so far from your dear parents. I cannot understand why he would assume you would want to remain near to your mother," Mr. Bennet replied with his usual dry wit. "I am sure he assumed that I would be impressed by his wealth and that I would exert my influence over you to encourage you to accept him." He shook his head as he laughed softly. "He obviously does not realise just how little influence a father may have over his daughter."

"I know his fortune should make him a desirable suitor, Papa. I am sorry."

"There is no reason to apologise to me, my dear. He is rich, to be sure, and you could have had more fine clothes and carriages than Jane, but I know your disposition, Lizzy. Money alone would not make you content. 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.

"Be assured that when Mr. Briscoe returns tomorrow I will speak with him on your behalf. I will not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life. You may rest easy, my child. He will receive no blessing from me."

~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~

Chapter forty.

Alighting from his carriage outside White's on Monday evening, Darcy acknowledged an acquaintance in the entrance hall, and spoke briefly with an old friend before ascending the stone steps of the grand staircase to the second floor. The dining room was busy, but he had already partaken of an early dinner at home, so he turned to his right, with the thought of spending a few hours in the card room.

He paused at the door, trying to discern the games in progress and who played them, when a shout from a table in the corner caught his attention, and he saw Henry Ardern beckon him over.

"Ho, Darcy! You will join us, will you not? We have just lost Clements and need someone to take his place."

Darcy did not have to think about it for long. If anyone knew of Cresswell's intentions towards Elizabeth it would be Henry, who had always been a close friend to his brother-in-law. An hour in his company would be a small price to pay in order to learn what might have been going through the Viscount's mind in recent days.

Moving towards the table, Darcy saw that two other men already sat around the green baize surface. He recognised one of the men as another resident of Grosvenor Square; Lord Harrowby. The third player, who had his back towards the door, was briefly obscured by a flurry of older members who were retiring for the evening. Darcy did not see who Henry’s partner was until he had reached the table.

"Cresswell."

"Darcy." The Viscount nodded his head in friendly acknowledgement, and waved towards the empty chair. "I know you are usually up for a game. Sit down, there's a good chap."

Darcy looked down at the table. "Whist? Is that not a little pedestrian for your tastes?"

"Not at all. I have had my share of excitement at the tables for today. Besides, Henry has had some poor luck with the dice recently and had sworn off Faro."

Wordlessly, Darcy took the empty place, between Cresswell and Henry Ardern, and across from Harrowby who would be his partner.

The first few hands were played without comment, and with the Viscount and Henry taking the lion's share of the tricks.

When Cresswell threw down a low card, allowing Darcy to collect that particular trick, his partner laughed. "You have not been favouring us with your full attention! I believe your thoughts were more agreeably engaged. Am I right?"

Cresswell's inscrutable smile grew, but he gave no explanations or apologies.

Ardern snorted. "Keep your secrets then. I was not interested anyway," he muttered as he passed the pack to his left.

As Harrowby shuffled the cards and handed them back to Ardern, Cresswell finally broke his silence.

"You are acquainted with the Bennet family, are you not, Darcy? How well do you know them?"

"Hah! I knew it!" Ardern cried triumphantly.

Not completely surprised by the question, Darcy answered as he cut the pack. "Moderately well. My sister enjoys the company of both Mrs Gardiner and Miss Bennet, and I consider Mr. Bennet to be a personal friend."

"He does not seem to be quite your sort." Cresswell considered the information as he watched Henry deal out the cards one by one. "The mother is a piece of work though, is she not?"

"Mrs Bennet?" Darcy fixed him with a cold stare. "I do not have the pleasure of understanding you." He, of course, knew perfectly well to what Cresswell was referring, but considered a show of ignorance to be his best ally under the present circumstances.

Henry laughed. "Cresswell had a run in with Mrs Bennet earlier today. He is lucky to have returned home intact. Had he stayed there any longer he might have found himself shackled to her for a lifetime!"

The Viscount shook his head, his lips curled in an embarrassed smile. "Not Mrs Bennet. Her daughter? Well, perhaps."

Two of the men around the table erupted into laughter, while the third studied his cards in silence.

Cresswell attempted to justify his comment. "I only mean that Mrs Bennet is very direct. Different from many of the mothers in town. When I called there today I swear she was this far from demanding when I would be marrying her daughter." He held his thumb and forefinger no more than a quarter of an inch apart. "She all but threw the girl at me. What am I supposed to do?"

"You know better than to be caught like that, eh Cresswell?" Harrowby laughed.

Darcy wondered whether he had gone alone to Cheapside, or if he had been in company. "Which daughter would that be?" he asked, knowing full well what the Viscount's answer would be.

Cresswell chuckled. "Miss Bennet, of course. There is nothing wrong with the others, if appearance alone interests you, but the eldest daughter has a ... a je ne sais quoi that puts her above the norm."

"You do not care for Miss Lydia?" Henry cut in as he threw a card down onto the table. "I thought her a lively little thing. Very enjoyable company. She would give any man a run for his money, I wager."

"The youngest one? Certainly not! Bred a little too close to the dam for my liking. Miss Bennet is ... well, she is entertaining to talk to, at least."

Darcy remained silent. He concurred with Cresswell's opinions, but refused to say as much. As they played the next trick, conversation focussed on the cards themselves, but it soon became clear that Cresswell's attention was far from the game. His interest was confined to any snippet of information Darcy could supply about the Bennet family.

"The Bennets estate; what is it like? It is in Hertfordshire, I understand."

"Yes. My friend Bingley has leased a property barely three miles from Longbourn."

"And that must be how he came to be married to Mrs Bennet's finest daughter, I assume. Mrs Bennet prides herself on making that match. It sounds as though the eldest daughter's features, rather than her intelligence, helped a great deal."

"Bingley does not consider his wife in that light," Darcy cautioned him, "and Mrs Bennet had very little say in the matter, regardless of what she might think."

"And the Bennet estate?" Cresswell urged.

"Not as large as some. Mr. Bennet derives a modest income from the land. Of course, Mr. Nathan Bennet, as you know, will be able to add his own funds to that of the estate when he comes into his full inheritance."

"A country gentleman's daughter? You are slipping, Cresswell. She does not sound like the type who would find favour with your dear father."

Henry Ardern laughed. "Ah, Harrowby, you obviously do not know the old Earl as well as you think. He would be the first to complain if the object of Cresswell's affections was frightful, regardless of how much money she had. He cannot stand ugly girls; thinks they should be drowned at birth, the whole lot of 'em. But a pretty looking piece, even one with only a small fortune, would please him rather well. You know how little he cares for the opinions of others."

"It would not be quite as easy as that, my dear Ardern. He does like to see some good breeding, but he could hardly complain about my choices after marrying my mother. Her face was most definitely her fortune." The Viscount turned once more to Darcy. "The Bennet's are a good family, are they not?"

Darcy shrugged, as though it did not matter to him in the least. "Mr. Bennet is a gentleman. I would imagine that the Bennets have held land in their parish almost as long as the Darcys have been in Derbyshire." He took a sip of his wine. "You could have obtained this information directly, were you so inclined."

"Ah yes, but not without putting myself into an uncomfortable position!" Cresswell wagged his finger at Darcy as Harrowby laughed.

Darcy's partner played his card. "You are yet undecided on the matter?"

"You know me, Harrowby. It does not pay to show your hand too soon." Suiting action to words Cresswell placed his final card on the table, taking the last trick of the game and causing Harrowby to groan as he counted his losses.

Collecting up the cards, Cresswell turned his attention back to Darcy. "You said Mr. Bennet is a personal friend. You find him amicable?"

"Yes."

"In that case he cannot be too crusty. I have exchanged few words with him, but I found his manner to be incisive; in fact, he made me feel damned uncomfortable, I'll tell you. I do not believe my name or family impressed him one whit."

"No. When it comes to Miss Bennet, it would not. She is far and away his favourite daughter and he will not give her away lightly."

"I can understand why."

"Can you?" Darcy could not help but ask; curious, despite himself, to know what had so attracted Cresswell to Elizabeth.

"Of course! Miss Bennet is the first woman I have met in a long time who is capable of holding a sensible conversation; although I will admit that I also find her lack of town bronze to be charming. No fluttering eyelashes or simpering smiles from her. Had she spent a full season in town, especially with someone like the Dowager Lady Rempstone for company, her delicate and innocent bloom would no doubt have been spoilt. No offence to your mother, Henry, but what on earth does she teach those girls?"

"How to be like her, I assume," Henry Arden mumbled as he arranged the cards in his hand.

Just over an hour after Darcy had first taken his place at the table, Harrowby threw down his cards for the last time; proclaiming that he had lost enough, and he would therefore be retiring for the night. Darcy admired any man who could walk away from his losses in such a manner, rather than continuing on in the hopes of changing his fortunes. He had also lost money, but nothing he could not afford. In truth, he considered it money well spent.

At the same time, Henry Ardern explained that they were expected at Rempstone House and would also have to leave. Cresswell planned to stay over with them before setting off for the country early the following morning.

Darcy looked up at the Viscount. "Are you expecting to stay in the country for the rest of the season?"

"God, no! Only a few days. I have every intention of returning as soon as I can."

Henry frowned. "I hope your mother is well."

"Oh yes, nothing wrong there. I need to speak to her about something."

"To ask her advice about Miss Bennet?"

"No, of course not," Cresswell replied; although, to Darcy's ears, his denial lacked the conviction he had hoped for.

Darcy followed the pair out through the main door and the three men settled into a companionable silence as they made their way together up St. James's Street.

Before they reached Piccadilly, a young woman stepped out from a darkened doorway in front of them. At first glance her manner of dress appeared elegant, but further scrutiny showed it to be worn and stained in places. "Can I offer you fine Gentlemen some warm company tonight?"

Darcy glanced at her face as he passed by. Although the girl's features were sallow and thin, she was more youthful than he first thought. Surely she could not be any older than Georgiana! He had taken three or four steps past her before realising that he had lost one of his companions.

Cresswell laughed. "Come on, Henry. You have no time for that right now. Your mother is expecting you home!"

Henry Ardern leant against the black iron railings, intent in his negotiations. "I regret that my friend is correct. I have no time at present, my lady." Leaning forward, he whispered into her ear. After a few seconds he drew back, bowed politely and flicked a small coin in her direction.

Her thin arm snaked out and snatched it out of the air, before tucking it securely down the front of her dress.

As the three men walked away, Darcy’s tone became serious. "Your charity is all well and good, Henry, but she will not spend that money on the food she needs. It will go straight into the coffers of the nearest gin palace."

"Maybe it will," he grinned. "But I promised her the same again if she is waiting for me when I return."

Darcy shook his head sadly. Henry would never change.

When the men separated, Cresswell held out his hand towards Darcy, and gave his grateful thanks for the information he had provided about the Bennets.

"No thanks are needed," he averred, and spoke nothing but the truth. Darcy felt rather sanguine about the way the evening had unfolded. He had not provided Cresswell with any information that would not have been readily available from Nathaniel Bennet. He had also been able to judge Cresswell's interest in Elizabeth, and surmised that although he might think himself in love it was probably no more than the sort of infatuation that had affected Bingley on numerous occasions prior to meeting his wife.

Not only that, Darcy considered himself to have, for the moment at least, a definite advantage; for he knew he had a rival for Elizabeth's affections, while Cresswell remained blissfully ignorant of Darcy's own interest in the matter. He was also aware that the Viscount would be out of town for the next few days.

Arriving home, the Darcy's butler welcomed his master. "A pleasant evening, sir?"

"Yes, thank you, Jessop," he replied the man removed his coat. Checking the clock ,he realised that the hour was not as late as he thought. "Is Miss Darcy still up?"

"I believe she is, sir."

Darcy found Georgiana in the drawing room, reading a book. Although she looked tired, his sister admitted being far too excited to go to bed and she spoke enthusiastically of her plans for the following day. Georgiana would collect Elizabeth from Gracechurch Street and take her to visit Anne. It would be the first time the two had met since they had been together at Rosings.

"And will you remain at Curzon Street?"

"Oh, no! We are all going for a walk in Hyde Park. It will be such fun! Elizabeth has never been, but I am sure she will enjoy it."

Darcy agreed that she probably would. "You really should go to bed now or you might be too tired to walk anywhere tomorrow."

Georgiana brought her hand up to cover a yawn. "I think you are right, Fitzwilliam. I will retire now. Good night!"

Wishing his sister sweet dreams, he watched her walk up the stairs before turning towards his study, unable to follow his own advice. How could he sleep while his thoughts were so full of Elizabeth and the outing she would be attending tomorrow?

He held another advantage over Cresswell—Georgiana and Anne's friendship with Elizabeth—and he planned to make the most of it.

~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~

Early on Tuesday morning, Elizabeth's eyes snapped open in the semi-darkness. Looking frantically around her, she only began to relax when she saw that she remained safe in her room at Gracechurch Street. Taking one or two deep breaths she calmed her anxiety and listened to her racing heart as it began to slow to a more restful state. She looked over at Mary, who still slept soundly. She was pleased that one of them, at least, enjoyed a restful sleep.

She had had another dream; or would it be better described as a nightmare? It began believably enough:

She walked with Mr. Briscoe in a park, or a large garden. The location was unfamiliar to her. She noticed the vibrant colour of the grass and the trees; the bright, fresh green which comes with the first buds of springtime. They crossed a lawn as Mr. Briscoe described the journey from London to Lancashire in minute detail. Elizabeth could feel the anxiety building up within her. She knew it was only a matter of time before he proposed to her again, and this time her family would not allow her to say no. A strong inclination to flee grew inside her. He wanted to take her away! No ... no, she would not go with him! She did not want to live in Lancashire!

She turned and ran away from him, over the grass. Behind her, his harsh voice called her name but she dare not look back to see whether he followed. The clouds rolled in and the sky darkened as the rain began to fall; fat raindrops splattered onto the top of her bonnet, pattering loudly against the woven straw.

In the rain, she could make out a figure in the distance. She thought it might be Lord Cresswell and tried to get closer to him, reaching out towards him, hoping that he would save her; but no matter how fast she moved he never seemed to get any closer. She soon despaired of ever reaching him.

After a few moments of surreal confusion, Elizabeth found herself no longer running towards the Viscount, but towards a feature she could barely make out. Through the pounding rain she saw a small structure standing within a loose ring of trees. It was a stone temple; the kind of elegant relic of ancient architecture which Gilpin considered one of the richest legacies of art. She took grateful shelter under its roof, watching the incessant rain fall, until she heard the beating of hooves on the wet ground, as someone rode towards her. She wondered for a moment whether her Knight was finally coming to rescue her, although the realistic part of her worried that it might be revealed as Mr. Briscoe, and she was therefore rather surprised when Mr. Darcy appeared in front of her.

Elizabeth smiled to herself in the darkness. She supposed it was understandable. The three men who had taken up most of her thoughts recently had now invaded her dreams as well, but the actions of Mr. Darcy had astounded her more than anything else she had imagined.

In her dream she had not been pleased to see him, but felt a growing annoyance with him. She remembered wishing he would leave, but he did not. Elizabeth wondered why she would not want to speak to him. Instead, he walked towards her until he stood only a few feet away; the rain dripping from his sodden coat. Only then had he spoken, and the words were as clear to her now as they had been in her dream:

"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you..."

Those profound sentiments had immediately woken her, but no, surely they could not be the words of a nightmare. Elizabeth began to wonder how serious her interest in Mr. Darcy really was, if her own conscious could imagine such tender feelings from him.

She knew she should not dwell on it. After all, it was only a dream, and as such bore no relation to her real life. However, as she lay back against the cool sheets, Elizabeth could not help but wonder whether there was any chance that Mr. Darcy could ever come to care for her as deeply as he had in that dream.

~~*~~

Later that morning, at the agreed upon time, Miss Darcy and Mrs Annesley arrived at Gracechurch Street to collect Elizabeth from her aunt's house. Elizabeth had been hovering near the door to the drawing room, waiting for the sound of the bell, to spare her friend any unnecessary time in Mrs Bennet's company. As the day was dry but cool, she allowed the maid to help her into her spencer before making her goodbyes to her family. Leaving the house, she greeted Georgiana and her companion with a cheerful smile.

As the carriage travelled on towards Curzon Street, where Anne planned to join them on their way to the park, Elizabeth listened to Mrs Annesley's commentary regarding some of the properties they passed along the way. She appeared very knowledgeable about who resided in each house; which properties belonged to minor nobility; which were rented and which families had made their fortune from trade. Her friend's companion appeared to have enough knowledge of the workings of society to be able to instruct them both in a light and pleasant way, without it seeming to be mere idle gossip.

When they arrived outside the Matlock's residence, Elizabeth was reluctant to go inside to collect Georgiana's cousin. She offered to wait in the carriage with Mrs Annesley, but the young girl would not hear of it.

"I must say good morning to Aunt Eleanor," Georgiana explained. "She might be angry with me if I did not. My Aunt has heard so much about you, Elizabeth. I know she would love to meet you."

"I have already had the pleasure of meeting Lady Matlock. Colonel Fitzwilliam made the introduction at Rempstone House last week," Elizabeth whispered as she found herself at the door. She did not mention aloud her fear that her introduction to the Countess had been coolly received, and she was unsure whether a second meeting would be welcome.

Elizabeth was therefore relieved when the butler advised them that Lady Matlock had already left the house to make her morning calls and was not expected back for another hour. Miss de Bourgh would be advised of their arrival, if they would be so kind as to wait in the morning room.

While they waited, Georgiana spoke about the improvements to Anne's health, and how she could now walk for more than an hour without getting the least bit tired. Moving closer to Elizabeth, she lowered her voice to a whisper. "I think that Anne might even be invited to join us at Pemberley during the summer. Would that not be wonderful?"

"Of course. The three of us would have a lovely time together, I am sure."

Georgiana looked down at her hands, her cheeks pink. "I do not think that we would see Anne very often. I think ..." She paused, clearly unsure whether to continue. Looking up at Elizabeth, she asked, "Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course. You can rely on my discretion."

The young girl sighed. "I worry about my brother. I know he will marry someday, and I will have no say in the matter. I have heard my Aunt speak many times about the different ladies she has introduced to him. They all sounded so cold and formal. If they do not like me, they might tell Fitzwilliam to send me away to live somewhere else."

"I am sure your brother would not allow that."

"But that is just it. All will be well now, I know it! Fitzwilliam is going to marry Anne."

"Anne?"

"Yes! Just think, Elizabeth. How wonderful will it be when Anne becomes my sister? And such a relief to me that it is someone I know and love already!"

"Has ... has your brother told you of this?"

Explaining the scene she had witnessed on returning to the music room on Saturday afternoon, Georgiana blushed again before whispering, "Seeing the way they were acting towards each other, I cannot imagine anything else. It will make Aunt Eleanor so happy!"

The young girl's revelation surprised her; especially in the light of her own thoughts about Mr. Darcy. It seemed as though she had read far too much into his recent attention to her after all.

Had Miss Darcy known what pain she was then giving to her beloved friend, she undoubtedly would have refrained from making suggestions that Elizabeth found so discomposing.

Pushing down an unexpected feeling of disappointment, and unsure what to say in response to Georgiana's revelation, she was grateful when the door opened and she turned to see a young woman who bore only a superficial similarity to the one she had befriended in Kent. "Anne?"

Anne de Bourgh bore little resemblance to the pale and sickly creature Elizabeth had first met at Rosings. Her complexion was rosy and she appeared to have gained a little weight, which suited her much better. Anne's dark hair had also benefited from the change in her health, going from dull and lifeless to sleek and shiny; as she turned, Elizabeth could see an intricate design of plaits — a good hours work for even the best of ladies maids. Her eyes were now clear and bright, with no hint of shadows beneath, and the radiant smile she gave them lit up her features like bright sunshine.

Elizabeth could understand why Mr. Darcy might have changed his opinion of his cousin. Her appearance had improved so much that she could now be considered quite pretty.

Anne de Bough came forward to hug them both. "Oh, Elizabeth! It is so good to see you again."

"I hardly recognised you, Anne. I am pleased to see how much your health has improved."

"And I have you to thank for it. The timing of your accident was providential,and many good things have happened in my life since you visited Kent."

Elizabeth blushed, flattered by Anne's kind words, which had also served to remind her how Mr. Darcy had been responsible for calling his own doctor to treat her. Could that action have suggested an earlier interest in her? Unfortunately, it appeared that his soon to be announced betrothal gave lie to that idea. Elizabeth's pleasure in meeting Anne and seeing her so well had been severely dampened, and her smiles for her friend were muted. How could she have been so stupid as to imagine Mr. Darcy having tender feelings for her? Even if he did enjoy being in her company, it could be as nothing more than a friend of her sister.

Her two friends were chatting away as though they had no intention of departing the house that morning. Elizabeth had expected them to leave straight away, but instead Georgiana and Anne appeared to be waiting for another member of their party. It had been on the tip of her tongue to ask who else would be joining them when Dr. Hall was shown into the room.

After greeting her friends in a familiar manner, he smiled at Elizabeth; expressing his delight that they could meet again. "I see you have all been waiting for me. I apologise for my tardiness. Lord Worcester does not hear well at his advanced age, and I had to repeat everything three times before could understood my instructions."

The doctor looked out of the window at the sky outside, which remained grey but bright, with no sign of rain. "I am very much looking forward to our walk this morning. I do believe we will be more fortunate with the weather today. Shall we go, Ladies?"

As the party began to prepare for their outing, being helped into their outer garments by liveried servants, Elizabeth offered a subdued response to their conversation, having had lost all interest in walking the park. She felt unable to condemn Anne's happiness, but it afforded her no palliation of her own distress. Georgiana's enthusiasm for the match was, on the contrary, exactly calculated to understand her own wishes. Never had she so honestly felt that she could have grown to love Mr. Darcy as now, when all thoughts of love must be in vain.

Standing with her friends in the lofty hallway, Elizabeth wanted nothing more that to be alone with the confusion of thoughts which threatened to overwhelm her, but it seemed an impossible hope. Fixing a brave smile to her face, she followed Anne and Georgiana as they left the house.

~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~

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