17. Chapter 17

XVII.

It was dark when Darcy's carriage arrived at his London home. This did not actually signify the time of day or night as the sun was lately setting near dinnertime due to the time of year, but Darcy still used the lack of light as his rationalisation for avoiding everyone and retiring directly to his bedchamber.

Darcy had convinced himself that upon laying down in his own bed – something he had not had the pleasure of sleeping in for several months now – that his entire visit to Hertfordshire, including his argument with Bingley and his intrigue with Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would somehow slip away from his conscious recollection. He was quite put out to discover this to have been wishful thinking. In fact, upon drawing the curtains about his bed and relaxing into the linen sheets, with all the candles snuffed and the fireplace embers glowing softly, it seemed that his memories of his time in Hertfordshire became even more pronounced in his awareness, if such a thing were even possible!

He found his thoughts drifting of their own accord to the morning he had awoken early and found Miss Elizabeth in the breakfast parlour at Netherfield and their subsequent walk through the gardens; a small groan escaped his lips. Unbidden and unwelcome, his thoughts betrayed him: they whispered of her beauty and charm and intelligence; they reminded him of how often he had sought these characteristics in other ladies of his acquaintance but found each to come up short. He rolled over and suppressed a cry into his pillow. Thoughts of her only brought thoughts of Bingley's words back to the forefront of his thoughts. He could not decide with whom he should be most angry! Bingley? Himself? Miss Elizabeth? No, he quickly decided that she could not be at fault for his own foolishness. He had meant to avoid her, but instead he had been drawn to her, practically following her like a lost puppy! His aggravation flooded through him as he continued to berate himself for becoming interested on any level in a woman so far beneath himself.

When, hours after he had climbed into his bed, he was still not claimed by sleep, he wearily pulled himself out and made his way to his adjoining parlour. He did not bother to summon a servant, given his ignorance of the hour and not wishing to awake anyone, but simply located the brandy in his cabinet and poured enough to fill his crystal glass, far more than he would normally consume, but he reasoned that a brief oblivion from his own thoughts was much needed. However, it seemed one full glass was insufficient to dull his active brain. Within two hours and after four full glasses, he was fast asleep and snoring, laying at a peculiar angle across his bed, with the curtains still partly opened. As he had desired, he was now blissfully unaware of anyone and anything, including his drunken realisation that against his better judgement, he was, in fact, in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

ooOoo

Upon waking the morning of the twentieth of November, Georgiana Darcy learned from not one but three different servants of her brother's arrival to their home. First it was her personal maid, excited to share the news since she knew how much her mistress admired her brother; then it was their housekeeper who wished to ensure that Miss Darcy was kept informed of the comings and goings within the house, as well as plan the day's meals; and finally, Fitzwilliam's personal valet came to inform her of her brother's presence but also to make apologies on his behalf that he would not be joining her for breakfast nor, most likely, the midday meal. This last notification, in particular, was rather surprising to Georgiana. It was not like her brother to come home and not seek out her company forthwith, particularly after being away for so long.

She immediately became concerned that he was not well: "Stewart, is my brother unwell? Is the doctor required?"

Stewart seemed slightly uncomfortable, but she was never particularly good at reading him – she suspected that this was part of his appeal to Fitzwilliam as it seemed that few could accurately guess as to Stewart's thoughts; when the man wished to hide something, he did. He replied with a simple, "No, Miss Darcy, I do not believe that will be necessary. Mr. Darcy is only tired from yesterday's journey."

She thanked him and he withdrew, but she was not satisfied with his explanation. Her brother never missed an opportunity to break their fast together unless he was ill or away! It was the one meal not likely to be intruded upon or set to be held at an acquaintance's home. Certainly he would be fatigued from the journey, but it was not so long and neither was he on horseback, so why should he be too exhausted to sit and eat?

No, something is not right, she determined. Twisting her napkin repeatedly between her long fingers, she contemplated what could possibly prevent Fitzwilliam's presence with her? She thought through as many scenarios as she could: illness, fatigue, irritation... she could find no other possible causes. While Stewart had offered fatigue, she could not feel settled upon it, and illness was certainly out or he would not have denied it. This only left irritation, but with whom might he be displeased?

Being naturally inclined toward shyness and an anxious temperament, in addition to her age, Georgiana quickly assumed the responsibility for the anomaly in her brother's behaviour upon herself. She considered the state of the house, but her reflections yielded no results: the house is quite as it was when he was last here; he cannot find fault with its management. She tried to recall if she had failed to respond to a letter or ignored a request, but no such events had occurred, she was quite certain!

And then like a flash of lightning, it struck her: He cannot forgive me!

Although Fitzwilliam had assured her many times that he did not hold her responsible for her near elopement, and although he had held and rocked her while she cried seemingly endless tears of grief for her broken heart, she felt convinced that this must be the reason for his distance now. After several months apart, she reasoned he had been able to reflect more fully on the matter and come to realise that indeed she was responsible for the events that nearly caused ruin to their family and now he could not bear to be in the same room as herself!

Oh heavens, what shall I do? she worried as she twisted her napkin even more.

She wished she had had a sister to whom she could confide her fears and perhaps receive consolation or guidance, but as there were none, she determined that she must do nothing else to provoke Fitzwilliam's displeasure in her. Perhaps she might show him with her efforts that she would not disgrace their family or disappoint him again. And so with that purpose in mind, Georgiana ate a bit more of her breakfast and then immediately began her lessons, despite her first tutor not being scheduled to arrive for another hour. She would be perfect for Fitzwilliam!

Playing her instrument relaxed her body and soothed her nerves; it allowed reason to seep in. As her fingers worked the keys, she wondered to herself if she may be overreacting? After all, might not Fitzwilliam merely be tired from his journey as Stewart said? Perhaps the roads were uncommonly rough...

Niggling doubts remained, but with these calmer thoughts in mind, she relaxed somewhat and determined she would not jump to conclusions about his absence this morning. No, indeed, I am behaving as such a goosecap! I cannot use one missed breakfast as proof of his anger with me. I shall wait and see how he behaves after he has rested and hopefully this will ease my conscience.

But in fact, Fitzwilliam's behaviour did not calm his sister's fears; instead, his continued aloofness seemed to confirm her initial assumption! When he did not appear for their midday meal, she did not concern herself as his valet had said as much. But when he requested supper be sent to his room, she was surprised and concerned. She went to his chamber directly, but received a reply from a servant that he was indisposed and could not see her at present. When he once again failed to join her for breakfast the next morning, this was all the confirmation she needed and there was no stopping the flood of insecurity and self-criticism within her thoughts from that point forward.

ooOoo

For his part, Darcy did not consider for a moment that his sister might believe he was upset with her or he would not have isolated himself so. Upon waking the following morning – rather later than his custom – he was appalled to find his head throbbing as though it were being ripped in two and his stomach revolted at the slightest movement or even the mere thought of food. He had not experienced the effects of overconsumption of alcohol since his days at Cambridge and even then, it had never been this atrocious!

When his valet came in – apparently for the third time that morning, though he was not awake for the first two – Darcy managed to communicate that he was not to be disturbed and that Georgiana should not be made aware of his condition. Later, when his thoughts were more lucid, he berated himself for allowing such a state of inebriation and railed against his poor judgement, citing his sister as a primary reason why he ought to have thought better of his decision to consume – how many was it? He shuddered to imagine his innocent sister's reaction to seeing him in such a disgusting state!

By suppertime he was able to contemplate food without risk of casting up his accounts, but he still had not bathed since his arrival the previous evening and his illness – as he had termed the morning's events in his own mind – had not left his person particularly presentable nor pleasant smelling. Not wishing to upset Georgiana's delicate sensibilities, Fitzwilliam ordered a light supper in his room and retired to bed rather early.

Never having been one to sleep a great deal under normal conditions, the following day, he found that his body would not tolerate sleeping even until his usual hour after having been idle the entirety of the previous day. Resigned to this, he woke, bathed, and dressed before the sun was risen and retired to his study to see what headway he could make before breakfast. In truth, he had intended to join his sister for this meal, but in his singular focus to sort through all of the business matters that had accumulated in his several months absence – and it was rather substantial – he lost track of the time and it was nearly midday before he paused his efforts.

Realising the hour once his stomach growled an alert, he removed himself from his study and went to find Georgiana. As he had expected, she was in the music room with her instructor. He entered quietly, enjoying the beauty of her playing, before making his presence known once the song was complete. He was surprised to see Georgiana not eager to greet him nor to quit her lesson for a light luncheon, but she complied with his request nonetheless. She was not rude or unpleasant, but there was something off in her greeting – formal perhaps.

Initially, he attributed her odd behaviour to being interrupted from a lesson and reasoned that her mind had been focused still on her instrument or the piece she had been playing. He inquired about her lessons and her recent activities but despite the casual nature of his questions, he observed that she appeared almost anxious: she was twisting her napkin nearly to pieces, her eyes kept darting up quickly to observe him before lowering again just as fast, and the tone of her voice was off.

Finally, he could take it no more and interrupted her generic speech about her studies: "Georgiana, forgive me for being so forthright, but is there something the matter? You do not seem yourself today."

Georgiana's eyes widened in surprise at the directness of her brother's inquiry. Then tears welled in her eyes, but she held them at bay, afraid to do anything that might displease him further. She knew not how to respond to his query; surely, she must need to be equally blunt? "Actually, Brother, I – I would ask the same of you?" The words were bold, even if they came out as more of a squeak than she might have intended.

"I beg your pardon?" His tone was all surprise, no anger.

"Yesterday, you – you did not join me all day, but Stewart said you were not ill." She took a deep breath as she hazarded a quick glance to see Fitzwilliam looking only concerned, so she continued, "We always break our fast together when we are both at home and I told myself it was foolish to worry, but then you did not come out of your room, not even to see me when I came by. I –" but she stopped herself from saying the last portion, unsure if she could speak her fear aloud or without the flood of tears she was still withholding.

Darcy was appalled even further with himself for causing such concern in his poor sister! He had thought he was protecting her by his absence, but instead, he had caused her pain. He was furious with himself!

He took a deep breath, not wanting to upset her further with a harsh tone, "Gigi," he used her childhood nickname to get her attention and once her eyes met his, he continued, "I am deeply sorry for upsetting you. You must know that it was not my intention. The truth is –" he paused while he briefly debated the response he should offer. He could not admit to having been foxed, nor did he wish to make it seem as though Stewart had lied and besides, if he claimed an actual illness, then she would insist on calling the doctor which would be entirely mortifying. "The truth is that I... did not leave Hertfordshire in the best of spirits and combined with the journey, I did not feel... quite myself. I did not wish to burden you with my poor temper, but I see now that hiding myself away had the opposite effect I intended. I am truly sorry for worrying you."

He could see the fear vanish from her eyes and relief flooded through him.

"Oh Fitz," he suppressed a groan as she used his childhood name, "I am sorry too! I should not have been so sensitive! Stewart assured me that you were not ill, but then I got to thinking such awful things – but 'tis no matter and all forgot!" And then, as though finally taking in all of what he had said, she tilted her head and inquired in a more mature tone, "But Fitzwilliam, what ever caused your low spirits? I had thought you were not to return home so soon, but I did not stop to consider there might have been a problem. Did something happen on your visit? Is all well with Mr. Bingley and his family?"

For a moment, Darcy had nearly chuckled to see how quickly the lively and carefree young girl within had come out from Georgiana, but too soon, she was in good regulation once again and the woman Georgiana was soon to become made an appearance. Unfortunately, this was a delicate subject for him and it was even more complicated to try to explain it to his sister. He would certainly not tell her of his interest in Miss Elizabeth, nor of Wickham being in Hertfordshire – Damn! Wickham is in Hertfordshire! I never did send that letter to Richard! Damn and blast! Well, I certainly will not tell Georgiana of him!

Finally, he settled on a suitably honest, but appropriately evasive reply: "Err, yes, everyone is well. Do not concern yourself on that count. However, shortly before I left, Bingley and I … disagreed on a matter. It is not of major importance," he cringed internally at the blatant lie, "but it was sufficient to make us both... uncomfortable. So it seemed best to return."

Georgiana did not entirely believe her brother, particularly as he was never one to flee from a disagreement and he did not generally choose his words quite so carefully around her. She was nearly positive that he was holding something back. "What was the disagreement about?"

She observed the way his shoulders tensed at her question – all the confirmation she needed. "Merely a small disagreement of the responsibilities of a gentleman. It is nothing you should concern yourself over."

Although his words were gentle; she heard the authority and command underneath. He would not tolerate further inquiry. She nodded her head in acknowledgement as she chewed her food. Deciding it was best not to push her brother when she did not know what he might be keeping from her – after all, perhaps she would not wish to know! – she changed the topic to inquire about the country itself and the society there. She was perplexed to see that even with this more neutral topic he seemed uncomfortable. She had only just begun to examine this and was intending to try yet another topic when he rather abruptly concluded his meal and, citing important business, left her alone to finish.

ooOoo

Riding to his aunt and uncle's home to see his cousin, Darcy wondered if he ought to have sent word that he was back in Town, but dismissed the idea nearly as soon it occurred to him. Earl and Countess or no, his uncle and aunt had never been overly formal and, especially since his father's death seven years prior, had always treated him as another of their children, as opposed to some distant nephew who needed a formal invitation to visit. Come to think of it now, he rather liked the idea of surprising them with his presence. He had never been the sort to surprise people, at least not in the traditional sense. Certainly, they were 'surprised' to find he was so young when he inherited his estate, or 'surprised' to learn he was 'the Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley,' and so forth, but he rarely managed to act in a manner that was surprising to any who knew him. Oddly enough, this had never been a source of discontent for him before, but for whatever reason, today, it seemed a marvellous idea to be spontaneous.

It was with these thoughts and a small smile that he dismounted at his relations' home. However, his plan to surprise them did not come to fruition as not a moment after his second boot touched earth did they jump right back into the air at Richard's booming, "Darcy!"

Darcy turned to see Richard leaning casually – in rather an arrogant manner, he thought – against the side wall, cleverly concealed from view of incoming visitors but still able to observe them.

"Richard! You nearly spooked my horse with your antics!"

"Your horse? Oh, I'd say not! Now, you are another matter entirely!" he laughed.

Darcy huffed, but could not stay mad – never could with his cousin, who was really more like a brother – and embraced Richard, as they always did. When Richard pulled back, he was pensive, examining; Darcy did not like it.

"Something is different about you today..."

Darcy straightened himself under the scrutiny, his smile disappearing. "Richard, really, stop that."

"Ah, that was it! Fitz, you were smiling!"

He had used Georgiana's childhood name for Darcy, knowing how much Darcy despised it from anyone besides Georgiana. In truth, even with Georgiana he barely tolerated it.

"You are losing your touch!" Darcy scoffed, "I smile plenty often."

"No, actually you do not," now Richard was thoughtful again and Darcy found that this made him even less comfortable than the teasing. Suddenly, Richard snapped his fingers: "I have it! You've met a lady! Am I correct?"

His cousin's leering smile made Darcy cringe slightly as he denied the eerily perceptive guess. "Do not be absurd! I had smiled out of pleasure in coming to see my family, but naturally, upon meeting with you, it quite disappeared!"

Richard held his hand to his breast in mockery, "Oh, Darce, you wound me!"

Darcy rolled his eyes, but one side of his mouth raised nonetheless. "Right, Richard, enough of that! Come, let us go inside; I have something I need to discuss with you and it cannot wait."

And despite all appearance to the contrary, Richard could sense the importance of Darcy's visit, so he followed his cousin into the house with only the barest teasing. He did not even point out that Darcy did not, in fact, confirm or deny having met a lady of interest to him; he would reserve that observation for later.

After relatively quick greetings to his younger cousins and aunt – his uncle was apparently out – Darcy and Richard settled into Uncle Robert's study to talk. Unsurprisingly, Darcy cut right to the chase.

"Richard, I have learned the whereabouts for George Wickham."

This certainly got Richard's attention and he sat up, "You have? Where is that scoundrel? Ooh, I'd like to –"

"Richard, focus. I learned that he has accepted a commission in a local militia in Hertfordshire. I believe they're under the command of –"

"Colonel Forster." Richard finished for him.

"Yes, do you know him?" Darcy was hopeful at this prospect.

"I do," Richard began, but his tone was not optimistic, "but that does not give us any advantage here."

"I see. Why is that?"

"Colonel Forster is a decent man, but he is not an adept leader. He's the sort who enjoys the trappings of privilege and prestige – wanted to meet me because of the Earl, you know the sort. He's weak-minded and so he is susceptible to foolish decisions, especially if there is something in it for him. And with George, you can be sure he would have promised as much."

Darcy sighed and ran a hand over his face, "Naturally."

This caught Richard's attention. "But Darce, why is this so important to you? Surely, you do not plan to bring Georgiana to that country? And it is not as though you are planning to now have him arrested or publicly outed for his behaviour toward her, so what purpose would it serve to bring this to my attention? What were you hoping I would do?"

This was not the reaction that he had expected from Richard. Darcy had imagined that Richard would be as furious with the villain as he himself was. But then, he contemplated, what result was he seeking in coming to Richard with this? His mind flashed to Elizabeth and he fought to maintain his features; it would not do to show Richard that his thoughts were so disorganised.

"I realise, of course, that we cannot intervene in any of the more … satisfying ways, but I had thought that we should alert his commanding officer so that he might take steps to ensure that George does not tarnish the reputation of our militia … or of any of the ladies in the area."

Richard was still watching him closely and an eyebrow raised at the last part. "You have never concerned yourself with George's indiscretions on that score before; what is different now?"

Darcy cringed at the bluntness and then bristled in defensiveness: "I have never supported his behaviour!"

Darcy's reactions and words were entirely fascinating to Richard and he maintained a calm demeanour as he parried, "That is true, but you have never actively taken a stance against it either."

"But of course I did! I removed Georgiana from him the moment I learned of their plans!"

"Well, but you must own that that is entirely different. First, she is your sister and you are her guardian, but she is also a lady of substantial worth. George knew as much and planned his actions carefully. That's a far cry from his taking advantage of a few country chits."

Darcy could not prevent the anger that flashed in his eyes at this and although Richard could not know why he had reacted in such a manner, the reaction did not go unnoticed.

"I see I have hit a nerve with you, Cousin."

Darcy wished to deny it, but it seemed foolish to attempt with no alternate explanation to offer. He thought again of Elizabeth and a fear seized him that she might be taken in by the charm and red coat of his former playmate only to find herself – but no, he stopped this line of thought. It was madness to contemplate these things and what was more, he consoled himself that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was far too intelligent to allow a rake like George Wickham to take liberties with her! His shoulders relaxed a little at the thought.

"It is nothing, I assure you. It is only –" he paused, thinking of what he could say when inspiration struck! "It is Bingley. You see, he has gone and fallen in love again. And, naturally, when I expressed to him some of what I knew about George's history, he was rather determined to alert the neighbourhood."

"Ah, I see. You think that if perhaps we alert Wickham's commanding officer, this will satisfy Bingley so he will not feel the need to spread stories that may come back to harm Georgiana or yourself?"

Is this what he had meant? It certainly seemed as good a reason as any. "Err, yes. Yes, precisely."

Richard did not believe him, but he allowed the lie to stand unchallenged. Darcy generally abhorred deception of any kind, so this change in his behaviour was certainly noteworthy in Richard's book. But until I can decipher why, I think it best not to let on, he decided.

"Very well then. When do you return to Hertfordshire? I will accompany you."

Damn! "Ah, well..." he fumbled momentarily, "The thing is that I did not plan to go – that is to say, I have a great deal of business to attend to here and so I had not planned to return... err, any time soon."

Richard raised his brow yet again. "Darce, come man, you cannot expect that I believe such nonsense. I have known you for your entire life! You cannot lie to me – I can always tell. Come, what is really going on? Out with it!"

Could he use the same half-truth twice in the same day? Would his luck hold? It seemed he had no other choice but to try: "Well, err, the thing is that Bingley and I had a disagreement before I left. In fact, it was the reason I left."

"And?" Seeing that Darcy was not going to continue, he prompted further, "What was this disagreement about?"

Darcy shifted uncomfortably, but decided that while he could not explain the details of Bingley's inappropriate attachment to Georgiana, Richard would certainly understand! "He is planning to propose to a woman who is not suitable."

Richard's eyes widened, almost comically, before he suddenly fell back into his chair, roaring with laughter. "Oh Darce," he managed between breaths, "please tell me that you did not try to talk the man out of proposing?"

"Of course I did. The lady herself is attractive and amiable enough, but she has no fortune to speak of and no connections of any value. In fact, her relations are nearly all rather vulgar, particularly the mother and youngest sisters."

Richard only laughed harder for a moment, before calming himself with deep breaths. "You said all of that to him?"

"Naturally. He was not thinking clearly. It was my duty as his friend to –"

"Fitzwilliam, did you actually believe that would be well received? Only a man as generous of temperament as Bingley would let you walk out unharmed for such remarks! What kind of man would he be if he allowed his love to be swayed by the opinions of others?"

"Well," Darcy bristled, "he would be wise to consider the counsel of his friends. Consider when a fortune hunter takes a man in pretending to be innocent and in love!"

"Was there evidence that this young lady is a fortune hunter?"

"Well... no, but –"

"Come now, Cousin, it is to Bingley's credit that he did not allow you to alter his course. In truth, I envy you both. He is his family's eldest son?"

"Only," Darcy confirmed.

He sighed, "You have no idea, Darce. It is not so easy for younger sons, like myself! We cannot marry where we choose, whereas Bingley and yourself, you can do as you please. I cannot fault Bingley; why should such trivial matters as the lady's fortune and connections stand in the way of their happiness if neither are important to him or their future?" He sighed wistfully again.

Darcy had become rigid in his seat as Richard carried on about how easy it was for Darcy as compared with Richard's status as the younger son. He could not help the bombardment of thoughts and images of Elizabeth that were overpowering his senses: her eyes, her laugh, the way she challenged and surprised him... He remained quiet for a bit too long and when Richard looked over at him quizzically, he gave a tight nod in response, not trusting his voice at that moment.

Richard misinterpreted the tension and offered, "I do apologise, Cousin, for not sharing your view on the matter. I hope you will not hold it against me for too long."

Darcy only partially registered the words, but was able to offer an adequate reply nonetheless, "Uh, yes, yes of course, Richard, it is no matter."

Richard was now entirely certain that something was going on with Darcy and his hunch was still a woman. However, it did not seem he was going to get very far with direct questioning. So, he determined to try the next best thing: "Darcy, you are not yourself today! I say we remove ourselves to White's for a bit to take your mind off of whatever is putting you in this mood. What do you say?"

Although he was no longer in any mood for company, Darcy rationalised that a gentlemen's club may be his best option at present. He could be assured that no deep conversation could be had and there would be no women there to fawn over him or remind him of Elizabeth. With reluctance one would normally reserve for much more exhausting endeavours, Darcy wearily agreed.

ooOoo

Returning home following his outing with Richard, Darcy felt even more exhausted than when he had arrived two days earlier from Hertfordshire. White's had seemed a good plan to Darcy when Richard had suggested it, but it had clearly proved the opposite. Darcy's plan that since the club would be free of women, his mind would also be free from a certain woman was not borne out; quite the opposite in fact.

Despite the physical presence of the fairer sex being disallowed from the gentlemen's club, by virtue of its name and purpose, they nonetheless seemed omnipresent in topic. Whether men were there to escape their wives, lovers, mothers, daughters, or sisters, or there to share their latest conquest, or betting on someone else's, or mooning over a lost or betrothed love, Darcy could not get away! And naturally, this led his thoughts to the one place he had forbade. Men would complain of their wives' demands upon them or share anecdotes of foolish things said or done and quite without his permission his mind would whisper that Miss Elizabeth would never be like that. Someone would bet about Lady so-and-so's likely answer to a proposition for her hand and he would wonder what man may secure Miss Elizabeth's?

Again and again, he shooed her face, figure, and words out of his mind, but again and again fate seemed decided that he should be reminded of her in every thing! He felt certain he would go out of his mind; Bedlam would surely be his resting place from here forward! Even Richard's stories failed to entertain him as they always had done. He refused to analyse this and instead redoubled his efforts to find adequate conversation and distraction.

Interestingly, Richard also seemed rather on edge and out of sorts. He was continuously offering spirits, but having had a fresh taste for the after-effects of such, Darcy steadfastly refused more than one glass of brandy – and even that he did not finish. Several hours later, Richard seemed quite irritable – though for what reason Darcy could not fathom – and Darcy had given up his efforts to remain distracted and in good spirits. Consequently, they mutually agreed that it was time to depart. Richard promised to visit Georgiana and Darcy on the morrow and extracted a promise from Darcy that he would be sure to visit again later in the week once the Earl was returned home.

However, once departed from the club, Darcy realised that he most certainly did not wish to return home. After all, Georgiana may still be thinking of their earlier conversation and he was in no mood to avoid her questions yet again. He abhorred deceit, but he could not conceive of any alternate method for keeping the terrible truth from her if she persisted in asking questions.

Riding along Old Bond Street, Darcy was struck with an idea. He noticed a music shop down the street a small ways. For the first time in days, he felt pleased with his cleverness once again and determined that he would find some sheet music for Georgiana. Not only would this serve as a proper apology for worrying her so yesterday, but if all went according to plan, she would be more than sufficiently distracted with her new pieces. Yes, he was feeling as quite the cat that got the cream.

He had been rather pleased with his plan until he found himself actively attempting to recollect the piece Miss Elizabeth had played for him – no, not for me, just played – after dinner at Longbourn. This soured his mood rather quickly, but whether it was due to his breaking his own rule so soon or disappointment that she had not played for him specifically or that he could not remember the name of the piece, he could not be sure. He could recall that it was a piece by Handel and had attempted to ask the clerk for assistance, but as Darcy could not give the name of the piece, it was rather an impossible task and he would certainly not deign to attempt to describe it. So instead, he simply chose to purchase several pieces by Handel in the hopes that one would be the correct piece.

Once at home, he handed his horse off to the stableboy and went inside to seek Georgiana. Upon finding her apparently perusing his letters to her from Hertfordshire he frowned but determined his best course of action was to distract her with his gift, as he had originally intended. He cleared his throat, affected a positive mood, though his smile did not reach his eyes, and announced to Georgiana he had a gift for her.

Georgiana, who had indeed been re-reading Fitzwilliam's recent letters in an effort to find clues regarding his mood or the disagreement with Mr. Bingley, was surprised by the attempt at good humour her brother was now offering. Although she was suspicious, she also was desirous to not draw his attention to her own activity, so she hastened to him and expressed her excitement and appreciation for the new music. When she commented that all of the new pieces were by Handel, she was sure that Fitzwilliam appeared nervous, but he cleared his throat and claimed they were the pieces recommended by the store clerk. She had no reason to doubt him, so she nodded and offered to play one, but she could not shake the feeling that her brother was simply not the same as when he had left for Hertfordshire all those weeks ago.

ooOoo

The following days went by much as the ones before them. Georgiana was still quite certain that Fitzwilliam was not telling her the entire truth of his vacillating moods, but she dared not confront him with her suspicions. Instead, she watched him closely and kept record in her mind of the shifts in his mood, speech, and actions. She noted that while Richard came by often enough, as always, her brother seemed more irritable with him than she had ever before observed; it was not as though Richard teased more than usual, but for some reason, Fitzwilliam's tolerance for such things was severely decreased. And yet with her, he was ever the doting brother, moreso even. He seemed increasingly eager to affect an air of neutrality and when that failed and his true feelings came forth, he found excuses to leave the house and nearly always returned with gifts for her well beyond what she might need or, at times, even want! She could not account for this disparity and it caused her to worry.

Perhaps a week after her brother's return to London, while they were enjoying their morning meal together, the day's personal mail and invitations were brought in for Fitzwilliam and she to review together. They preferred to discuss which events they planned to attend or decline rather than delegate the task exclusively to one or the other as inevitably neither would be satisfied with the outcome. The mail's arrival was no new event and each took a portion to look through and determine which seemed most pressing to open.

Georgiana was pleased to see another letter from her cousin Anne and set that aside to read later – her personal correspondence did not need airing at the table – and continued to sort the pieces. Several appeared to be invitations from acquaintances in Town and even one or two looked to be from Derbyshire; those were placed in front of her as she knew Fitzwilliam would wish to open those right away. She was nearing the end of her pile when she heard a crash to her right. She looked up in alarm to see that Fitzwilliam had dropped his cup of coffee. Despite the noise, the cup had apparently not been broken, for which she was pleased and she was about to comment to that effect when she observed her brother's face.

"Fitz, whatever is the matter?" As she spoke, she realised that he was holding a letter in his hands or perhaps an invitation, based on its size.

Darcy was quite lost in his own thoughts, but registered through the fog that Georgiana was speaking to him. "Hm?" he replied with a raised brow.

"Fitz, you look as though you are miles away. Is there something wrong? What is that in your hand?"

Now he was annoyed at her use of his nickname, but withheld comment on that. Instead he replied, "Nothing is wrong, I apologise. I was merely surprised to see this so soon." When he observed her confusion, he clarified, "It is from Bingley." He did not add that he suspected it was an announcement of his impending nuptials to Miss Jane Bennet, sister to his own constant tormentor.

Hearing it was from Bingley and knowing what little she did of their fight, Georgiana's expression softened and she offered, "Would you like me to open it?"

She was surprised to receive a rather gruff reply of "Thank you, but no" as he broke the seal on the outer envelope.

.

.

A/N: Ooooh, a cliffy! Don't hate me – Netherfield Ball is going to be next chapter, plus this was the longest chapter to date (12 pages!) but don't expect that too often. There was just a lot to get through this time.

HUGE thanks to ArtemisDesari for pre-reading, offering suggestions, and encouraging me! She also gets credit for this being a longer chapter instead of two chapters, which means you get all of it now :)

And I would not be here writing without all of your support and encouragement – you guys are amazing! Thank you x a million for your reviews because they absolutely make my day, every time and every one! Also, thank you to all those who added this story or me to alerts and favorites!