37. Chapter 37

Thank you, thank you to my amazing beta, CassandraLowery, who edited this chapter in the wee hours of the morning so you could get it today.

Chapter 36

Georgiana sighed happily as she walked sedately down the stairs, her outwardly calm appearance belying her inner joy. Fitzwilliam had talked to Elizabeth about Mother! She smiled as she remembered the day before when she had quietly looked into her mother's sitting room to find her brother and Elizabeth on the sofa. She felt herself blush, remembering seeing such an intimate scene. She had been shocked seeing Elizabeth on her brother's lap. Her shock, however, had rapidly given way to elation when she realized that Fitzwilliam was telling Elizabeth about their mother. The desire to stay and listen had been overwhelming, but she knew that this time was for her brother and Elizabeth. She had waited years to hear about her mother, so she could wait a little longer.

Georgiana stifled a yawn as she walked toward the music room. She had awoken uncharacteristically early in order to see her brother before he left for Hertfordshire. She smiled, remembering her brother's barely-concealed nervous excitement as he bid her farewell. She had been sorely tempted to tease Fitzwilliam about his preoccupied air but decided against it. She knew how important this journey was and the subsequent meeting with Elizabeth's father. Instead, she had simply wished him "good luck" and "safe travels."

Lost in her rumination, Georgiana was startled when her cousin called her name.

"Richard! Where have..." Georgiana's question died in her throat at the grave look on her cousin's face. She had not seen him since Wednesday evening when he had been called away rather urgently. He had left with no explanation to either herself or her brother. Her heart sank when she noticed that Richard's batman, Lieutenant Masen, was with him. His batman's presence could only mean one thing: Richard was leaving.

Richard spoke quietly to Lt. Masen before turning his attention to her. Georgiana was vaguely aware of Lt. Masen bowing his head as he passed her in the hallway on the way to his commanding officer's room to gather his belongings. Georgiana fixed her cousin with a confused gaze.

Wordlessly, Richard took her arm and gently led her into the music room. After shutting the door, he kept his back to her, his shoulders tense. Georgiana waited, her heart pounding furiously in her chest.

"Do you have to report back to the barracks, Cousin?" Georgiana asked hesitantly. She knew that Richard's leave was up soon, and as much as she loved having him at Darcy House, she knew that he would have to return to the barracks eventually. She silently prayed that was all it was. She didn't want to contemplate any other reason for his uncharacteristic silence and grave demeanor.

Richard turned and when Georgiana saw his face, she knew. Her face drained of color as her mind tried frantically to come to terms with what she saw in her cousin's countenance. Georgiana shook her head in denial and said, fiercely, "No."

"Georgiana-"

"No! You promised that you would stay here!" Georgiana angrily blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. Ignoring her outburst, Richard led her to the sofa.

Richard took a deep breath as he sat beside his distraught cousin. "I have no choice, Georgiana. I am needed. I have to go," he said in a quiet but firm voice.

"No, you don't! You could still sell out..."

Richard stood and began pacing, running his hand through his hair. Georgiana couldn't remember ever seeing him so agitated before.

"I cannot, Georgiana. I have already accepted my orders."

Georgiana shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand, Richard. What happened?"

"Colonel Perkins' cousin died." At Georgiana's puzzled expression, Richard quirked a smile. "He has inherited his cousin's title. He is now Baron Sheffield," he said wryly.

"How convenient for him," Georgiana responded ungraciously.

Richard huffed a laugh. "Indeed. But it is hardly his fault, and now I am needed to take his place."

Georgiana studied her cousin whom she looked to as a second brother. She had been eleven when Richard had been sent to the Iberian Peninsula. Despite her young age, she had understood that her cousin was in grave danger, and had prayed every night for his safe return. When he had returned nearly three years later, she had been overjoyed. The past two years with Richard at the War Office had been a blessed relief. The idea of him being sent back was unconscionable.

Georgiana closed her eyes in reluctant resignation. "When do you leave?"

"Immediately."

Georgiana's eyes flew open, and she stared at her cousin in horror. "Today?" she gasped.

Richard didn't answer but gazed at his young cousin with sadness and quiet acceptance, knowing how his news affected her tender heart. He nodded.

Georgiana stood and embraced her cousin, determined to be brave and not say anything that she would later regret. As Richard returned her embrace, she whispered, "I am proud of you, Cousin. Please be safe."

Richard smiled against her hair. "I will, Georgiana." He was not foolish enough to promise that he would return, but he could promise not to do anything rash or reckless. He had too much to live for or rather, someone to live for.

Richard released Georgiana, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "Please tell your brother that I will write as soon as I can. I was hoping to catch him before he left for Hertfordshire."

Georgiana smiled. "You've missed him by more than two hours, Cousin."

Richard snorted in amusement. "Hmmm, eager was he? I should have come here first thing but felt my parents needed to be informed first."

"Of course, Cousin. Fitzwilliam will understand."

Richard squeezed Georgiana's hand gently. "I am sorry that I will miss his wedding to Miss Elizabeth. Be sure to write and tell me all the details, for I know my fastidious cousin will not."

"I will, Richard."

Richard turned to leave but was stopped as Georgiana practically shouted, "Wait!"

Richard turned, raising his brows at Georgiana's unladylike behavior. He hoped she would not display any foolish female sentimentality. She had taken his news surprisingly well, and he had been proud of her. The next words out of his cousin's mouth stopped him in his tracks and made his heart beat wildly in his chest.

"Jane!" Georgiana gasped. "What about Jane, Richard? You cannot leave without seeing her."

"I have no intention of leaving without seeing her, dear cousin. Where do you think I am going next?"

Georgiana breathed a sigh of relief. "You aren't going to do something noble like tell her to go on with her life and love someone else, are you?"

Richard shook his head. "Of course not, Georgiana."

Georgiana beamed. "You're going to ask her to wait for you?"

Richard paused and looked at his cousin, her eyes bright with unshed tears. If Georgiana had asked this question even one week ago, his answer would have been much different. "No."

Georgiana blinked in bewilderment. "No? What do you mean, no?"

Richard smirked. "I mean, no, I am not going to ask her to wait for me."

Not waiting for his cousin's reply, Richard walked to the door and opened it. He turned, and seeing Georgiana's mouth open in astonishment, laughed. "I am going to ask her to marry me." He winked and exited to Georgiana's happy squeals.

~oOOo~

Richard bounded up the steps to the front door of the Gardiners' town house, his expression determined and resolute. Although he would never admit it, Darcy had been right. Why he had waited so long to declare himself to Jane was beyond him. He had been foolish to waste all that time vacillating between pursuing her or letting her go. If he was being completely honest with himself, he never really had a choice. From almost the first moment he met her, Jane Bennet had insinuated her way into his heart and mind. Before he met her, he couldn't imagine ever desiring to settle down and commit to one woman. Now that he had, he couldn't imagine his life without her. Richard didn't consider himself romantic, prone to sentimentality and flattery; he left that to Darcy. Until Jane, he had been confident and self-assured in every aspect of his life, never questioning his judgment or his reasons for doing something. Then he had met Jane, and she had literally turned his world upside down and inside out, making him question everything he thought he knew about life and love. The woman had him tied in knots, or more specifically, she had tied his heart in knots, and he liked it.

It was a rather terrifying thought to have one's happiness rely so entirely upon one person, but he didn't regret falling in love with Jane-quite the opposite in fact. She was the gentle rain to his tempestuous wind. Her calm common sense dispelled his irrational and impetuous behavior just as his exuberant nature drew her out of her naturally reserved demeanor. They were nearly exact opposites and thus a perfect match.

In his nearly thirty years of living, Richard didn't have many regrets. His only real regret was waiting so long to ask Jane to marry him. He knew she was meant for him almost as surely as Darcy knew Miss Elizabeth was meant for him. For the first time in his life, he had hesitated, allowing his fear to overrule what he knew to be right. Learning that he would be sent to the Iberian Peninsula again had given him the perspective he needed. There were no guarantees in life, especially in the life of a soldier. Happiness had to be seized and savored when it came. Life was too short and precious to waste on could-have-been or should-have-done. He was not going to waste any more time in achieving his heart's desire, and he wanted Jane. No, he needed Jane in a way that, quite frankly, scared him. He knew that he was being selfish, asking for her hand minutes before he would be called away without any assurances of when he would return, and he would return. He would not allow himself to think of any other alternative. He had too much to live for; Jane had given him a purpose. He would ask for her hand and pray that she loved him enough to say "yes."

Richard's heart dropped when Simmons informed him that the ladies were not at home.

"I do not know where they are, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Only that they are shopping and will be gone all morning."

Richard didn't have the time to go all over London trying to locate them. "Is Mr. Gardiner at home?"

"I am afraid not, sir. Mr. Gardiner is at one of his warehouses and will not return until later tonight."

Richard quickly calculated how long it would take for him to go to Gardiner's warehouse. Realizing he didn't have the time to go all the way across town, he closed his eyes at the hopelessness of his situation. Why hadn't he thought to send a message to Mrs. Gardiner to expect his visit? He had to report to his commander at noon, and it was nearly eleven now. His only option was to write Gardiner and ask for his permission to make his addresses to Jane by letter. It was not ideal, and he disliked leaving when everything was still unspoken between him and Jane. Perhaps he could simply write Jane directly and send the letter through Darcy. He didn't like the subterfuge, but under the circumstances, he didn't know what else to do.

Simmons cleared his throat to gain the Colonel's attention. He had watched the Colonel's expression change from hopeful expectation to grave resignation as he informed him of the ladies' absence. He suspected that something serious must have happened to make the normally easy-going Colonel turn so morose and out of sorts.

"Would you like to leave a message for Mr. Gardiner? If it is important, I could send a footman to the warehouse right away, sir. Mr. Gardiner could be here within the hour."

Richard sighed heavily. "I don't have the time to wait, Simmons." He looked at the butler gravely. "I am being sent to the Iberian Peninsula immediately. I had hoped to see Miss Bennet before I left..."

Simmons' eyes widened imperceptibly at the Colonel's announcement. "I see, sir," Simmons said carefully. "Perhaps you would care to wait in the drawing room and write your message?"

Richard looked at the butler with a perplexed expression. "I don't see why..."

Simmons continued, "I believe Miss Bennet has left her sewing basket by the large sofa."

Richard stared at the scheming butler with gratefulness. A slow smile spread over his face, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Excellent idea. Thank you, Simmons."

"I am sure that I have no idea to what you refer, sir."

"Of course not. I'll just go to the drawing room and write my message to...Gardiner."

"Very good, sir." Simmons paused before adding, "I wish you safe travels and a speedy return, sir."

Richard smiled and bowed his head in appreciation and respect before walking quickly towards the drawing room with a light step and a singleness of purpose. He had a very important letter to write to Jane.

~oOOo~

Darcy stared out the window of his carriage, his gaze unfocused, unaware of the passing scenery. His thoughts turned increasingly grim the closer he came to Longbourn and the meeting with Elizabeth's father. He thought that he was mentally prepared to meet the man who had failed his daughter in nearly every way...a father who had been unwilling to protect Elizabeth from the censure of his wife. His anger towards the man was nearly equal to the fury he felt towards Elizabeth's mother. It was incomprehensible to him how two people, two parents, could treat a child so despicably. For Elizabeth's sake, he needed to push down the resentment he felt towards her parents if he were to make a favorable impression on Mr. Bennet. The last thing he wanted was for the man to perceive his indignation and deny him his heart's desire: Elizabeth's hand.

Needing a distraction from his unpleasant thoughts, Darcy turned his attention to the day before and his liberating conversation with Elizabeth. He closed his eyes as he recalled Elizabeth's hopeful words and gentle smile, the quiet acceptance and fierce love in her eyes giving him the courage to break the silence of his repressed grief and pain. Speaking of his mother for the first time in nearly eleven years had been difficult, painful, and...cathartic. With Elizabeth's quiet strength, he would overcome his reticence to speak of his mother, and the wound left by her passing that had cankered his heart and soul would finally heal; he would become whole because of her.

Opening his eyes, he was startled to see that his carriage was moving rapidly through a small town. He exhaled loudly; he was here. Unconsciously he leaned further back against the squabs, leaving his face in shadow. He had no wish to be on display for the good residents of Meryton. Soon enough they would know the reason for his presence. He took several deep breaths, preparing himself mentally to meet Elizabeth's parents. He knew that the next several hours would be an exercise of his self-control to remain calm, impassive, and imperturbable.

As the carriage came to a stop in front of Longbourn, he pulled his pocket watch from his vest pocket and smiled. He was right on time. Stepping from the carriage, his keen gaze swept the surrounding area before resting on the house in front of him; it was pleasant, neat, and well-maintained, albeit small. He calculated that the home was roughly the size of the dower house at Pemberley. His gaze was caught by movement in a window on the second floor, and looking up, he saw the eager faces of two young women pressed to the glass, staring at him openly. He suppressed a grimace as one of the young ladies turned to whisper in the ear of the other, no doubt about him and his presence at their home. Darcy surmised that the two young ladies must be Elizabeth's younger sisters, Catherine and Lydia.

Upon entering the house, Darcy was relieved to see no members of Elizabeth's family present. He didn't wish for any distractions until he had met with Mr. Bennet. Once he had Mr. Bennet's consent for Elizabeth's hand, he expected that he would be much more amenable to conversing with the other members of Elizabeth's family with equanimity.

Darcy followed the elderly butler down a short hallway before stopping in front of the door that, presumably led to Mr. Bennet's study. Darcy tensed slightly as the butler announced him.

As soon as Darcy entered, Mr. Bennet stood from behind a large desk, eyeing him with blatant curiosity. Darcy walked towards Elizabeth's father, his eyes taking in the large, comfortable room. Nearly every surface was covered with books. There were even piles of books on the floor next to the chairs and sofa. Darcy's mouth quirked in a smile as he imagined Elizabeth curled up in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. He could readily see why she viewed this room as a sanctuary. Despite the organized chaos, the study was warm and inviting.

Darcy met Mr. Bennet's gaze and bowed in greeting. Before he could say a word, Mr. Bennet anticipated him.

"Mr. Darcy, I presume? Please take a seat, young man."

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Bennet."

Mr. Bennet snorted in wry amusement. "You and my daughter didn't give me much of a choice, Mr. Darcy. Or much of a warning."

Darcy met Mr. Bennet's sardonic gaze confidently. Although he knew that Elizabeth had inherited her father's eyes, it was still disconcerting. Whereas Elizabeth's deep brown eyes were warm and filled with light and laughter, Mr. Bennet's were sharp with cynical amusement.

"I apologize if we have inconvenienced you, Mr. Bennet," Darcy responded carefully.

Mr. Bennet leaned back in his seat, lowering his head so he could peer out above his glasses at the man sitting in front of him. He had quickly assessed the young man who desired his Lizzy. He was supremely confident and poised, his demeanor giving nothing away. His face was a carefully constructed mask, concealing all emotion. This was a man who was sure of his place in the world and was used to getting what he wanted, and he wanted his Lizzy. Mr. Bennet sighed, abruptly removing his glasses and tossing them on the pile of correspondence in front of him. Leaning forward, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, suddenly feeling his age.

Without preamble, he asked, "You wish to marry my Lizzy?"

Darcy was grateful for Mr. Bennet's directness. "Yes, sir, I do."

"Why?"

Darcy imperceptibly straightened. He knew he should not be so surprised at the question, but he was. He looked into Mr. Bennet's direct gaze and replied sincerely, "Because I love her."

Mr. Bennet stared at Darcy wordlessly for a long time, his sharp eyes searching for the truth of his words. Despite his failings as a father, he loved his children and desired their happiness. But Elizabeth was special; she was his consolation, his reward for a terrible mistake made long ago. He regretted much in his life, but he could never regret Elizabeth. Could he part with her to a man about whom he knew almost nothing? Could he trust the man in front of him with her happiness? He was rich to be sure, but would he, could he make her happy?

"And she loves you," Mr. Bennet finally stated. Despite what he wanted and believed, he knew his daughter. And if she said she loved the man sitting so confidently in front of him, then he believed her. He knew his Lizzy to be an excellent judge of character, just as he knew she would never give her heart to anyone unless she deemed him worthy. His heart broke just a little at that realization. He was going to lose her, and there was nothing he could do about it. If he was going to lose her, then it would be on his terms.

"Do you have the settlement papers, Mr. Darcy?" Mr. Bennet asked in resignation.

Startled at the abruptness of his request, Darcy responded, "Of course, Mr. Bennet."

Darcy waited patiently as Mr. Bennet read through the marriage settlement. After a few moments, Mr. Bennet placed the document on his desk, his clasped hands resting on top.

"There is no mention here," Mr. Bennet tapped the document in front of him, "of Elizabeth's dowry, Mr. Darcy. I thought that Gardiner would have informed you."

Darcy hesitated briefly before replying, "Yes, he did, but it is immaterial. I do not need her dowry, nor does Elizabeth want it."

Mr. Bennet stared incredulously at the man in front of him, and felt a sudden spike of anger. Had his sacrifice been for nothing? "I see. How nice it must be for you to not have to worry about money," he answered acerbically.

Darcy clenched his jaw before saying, his voice tight, "I meant no disrespect, sir. But Elizabeth is adamant. She does not want the money."

"I suppose I should not be so surprised," Mr. Bennet said wryly. "Elizabeth has always been rather stubborn. No doubt she is angry with me because she didn't know she had a dowry." He pierced Darcy with his stare. "Why doesn't she want it?"

"You'll have to ask your daughter, Mr. Bennet." Darcy tightened his fist in a futile effort to control his temper. How he wished he could tell Mr. Bennet what he really thought of him; that his disinterestedness had caused Elizabeth pain, pain that he could have prevented if he truly cared about her. The man's apathy was sickening.

"I am asking you, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy forced himself to remain impassive but inside he was very close to losing his carefully-controlled temper. He expected Mr. Bennet to question him, his motives, and intentions towards Elizabeth. That was his right as a father. Instead, he was trying to get him to betray the trust and confidence Elizabeth had placed in him. He would tell Mr. Bennet nothing.

Mr. Bennet sighed heavily. "I see you are not going to answer, Mr. Darcy. But nonetheless, Elizabeth will have a dowry. I wish for it to be added to the marriage settlement."

Darcy bowed his head. "As you wish." He would simply donate the money to whichever charity Elizabeth desired. "Do we have your consent to marry, Mr. Bennet?"

Mr. Bennet fixed his probing gaze on Darcy as his fingers drummed absentmindedly on the settlement papers in front of him.

"Mr. Darcy," he began. "Please understand that my Lizzy is very important to me. It is a difficult thing to give her to any man, especially to a man I know so little about. She left this house and my protection just over a month ago, single and unattached, with the sure knowledge that I was the only man in her life. I wish for her to return as such."

Darcy blinked uncomprehendingly at Mr. Bennet. Surely, he was not saying... "You wish Elizabeth to return home unattached."

"Yes."

"Not betrothed," Darcy reiterated, his carefully-controlled mask slipping at Mr. Bennet's confirmation.

"Yes. I can see that your intelligence is not lacking, Mr. Darcy." Mr. Bennet's eyes twinkled with amusement at the sudden emotion swirling in Mr. Darcy's blue eyes. So the man had human emotions after all. How fascinating.

Darcy stood, his mask firmly back in place. "Sir," he said, his voice tight. "Are you denying my request to marry Elizabeth?"

Mr. Bennet sighed. "I amend my earlier statement that you were intelligent, Mr. Darcy," he said wryly. "No, that is not what I am saying." He paused to look at the man standing so stiffly in front of him. He didn't wish to part with Elizabeth, but at the same time he knew that he couldn't hold her back. She wanted this man, why he didn't rightly know or even understand. Elizabeth had praised Mr. Darcy's goodness, his intelligence, his loyalty, and his selflessness. All he saw was a pampered, arrogant young gentleman, used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. However, he didn't have the audacity to tell the man "no" even though he was sorely tempted. He could tell the gentleman "not yet." Patience was a virtue, and Mr. Darcy needed a large dose. Besides, he was not looking forward to telling his wife about Elizabeth's betrothal. Her anger would be swift, and her censure vitriolic. He would do well to postpone that bit of unpleasantness as long as possible.

"I wish to have Elizabeth to myself for a little while longer, Mr. Darcy. I believe your original plan was to accompany my daughters home at the end of their stay in London. Next week, if I am not mistaken. Bring my daughter back to me, give me a few days, a week at the most to be with her without the...disagreement...that your engagement is sure to incite amongst certain family members. Then I will grant your request, sign the marriage papers, and wish you joy."

Darcy took a deep breath before offering a much more acceptable course of action. "Mr. Bennet, if time is what you need, you have it. Give me your consent today for our marriage, and I will send Elizabeth home to you. Take a week to spend with your daughter; I know that she is eager to see you again. I will even remain in London so your time with her will not be divided amongst us. I will arrive a week after your daughters' return to announce our engagement and begin preparations for our marriage."

Mr. Bennet raised a brow reminiscent of Elizabeth. "Come now, Mr. Darcy. Surely you can see that my plan is superior, and you will not have to be separated from Elizabeth at all. I wish for my daughter to return to the bosom of her family in the manner that she left: unattached. I will give my consent a week after her return. Not a day sooner, young man."

Darcy worked his jaw, debating with himself before saying, "I don't wish to leave this room without gaining your blessing, sir."

Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair, resting his clasped hands on his stomach. "Indeed? And why is that, Mr. Darcy? I don't believe my request is unreasonable. When you have a daughter of your own, perhaps then you will understand my feelings on the matter."

"I wish for your consent now Mr. Bennet due to the probable likelihood of your wife's interference with our betrothal."

Mr. Bennet remained in his relaxed position, but his eyes narrowed. "Mrs. Bennet has no say in the matter, Mr. Darcy. It is my consent that is needed, not hers. She will not interfere; I will not allow it."

"Is that your final say, Mr. Bennet?"

Mr. Bennet nodded. "It is," he responded with finality as he stood to walk his guest to the door. "All will be well, Mr. Darcy. You will have my Lizzy. I am not willing to deny her anything. Just be patient, and you will have your reward."

Mr. Bennet reached the door to his study and opened it. "Now, I believe it is time for luncheon. Am I correct in assuming that you planned to return to London today, Mr. Darcy?" At Darcy's nod, he added, "Then I hope you will stay and take a repast before you go."

"Thank you for your kind invitation, Mr. Bennet, but I believe I shall return immediately." Darcy wanted nothing more than to leave and return to London and Elizabeth. He was furious with Mr. Bennet and his ploy to deny him Elizabeth's hand. Mr. Bennet's reasoning was flawed and showed him to be nothing more than a vindictive and selfish man. Darcy had been more than willing to give the man time with his daughter before they married, and he knew it. Mr. Bennet was making him wait for his own perverse pleasure.

Without Mr. Bennet's consent, Darcy felt it unwise to meet any other members of Elizabeth's family, especially Mrs. Bennet. He was confident that he would not say anything about his understanding with Elizabeth, but he didn't trust Mr. Bennet to remain silent. Elizabeth was convinced that her mother would assume he was there for Jane, but would Mr. Bennet go along with his wife's false assumptions? He didn't know what the dynamic was between husband and wife, and he was not eager to experience it firsthand.

"Nonsense, Mr. Darcy, I insist. I cannot sent you back to my Lizzy half-dead now can I?"

Darcy gritted his teeth and acquiesced before following Mr. Bennet into the lion's den. He halted at the threshold of the dining room at the sight of four females staring at him. Mr. Bennet ignored them all, taking a seat at the head of the table. Seeing Darcy standing in the doorway, Mr. Bennet raised a brow and with a laconic wave of his hand announced simply, "Mr. Darcy."

Upon their father's pronouncement, the two young women that he had seen in the window burst into giggles. Darcy stiffened his spine, moving quickly to the seat Mr. Bennet had indicated at his right.

"I told you he was handsome, Mama," one of the giggling girls said in a whisper which unfortunately, in the nearly quiet room, was clearly heard by Darcy.

Mrs. Bennet patted the hand of her daughter, her calculating gaze never leaving Darcy's. Darcy reluctantly met the woman's gaze, forcing himself to remain impassive in the presence of the woman who had been the source of his Elizabeth's pain and anguish. He calmly studied the woman at the other end of the table, coldly assessing each feature and comparing it to his beloved Elizabeth. They were extraordinarily similar in face and form, but whereas Elizabeth's entire demeanor and countenance radiated innocence and light, the woman before him was cold, calculating, and unfeeling. Despite her overall remarkable resemblance to Elizabeth, Mrs. Bennet's face was haggard, her lips thin and pinched. Her nearly flawless face was beginning to show wrinkles around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. She would still be considered a very attractive woman if not for the expression on her face and the coldness in her hazel eyes. The woman before him was not happy, Darcy realized with an almost unholy glee. Despite her best efforts to demean and belittle her daughter, Mrs. Bennet was the one who was miserable. Perhaps there was justice in the world after all.

"Are you going to introduce us to your guest, Mr. Bennet?" Mrs. Bennet asked with a saccharine voice that grated on Darcy's nerves.

"I would not deny you the pleasure of performing that office yourself, Mrs. Bennet," Mr. Bennet responded dismissively, not bothering to look up from his plate.

Mrs. Bennet rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose in disgust at her husband before turning her gaze once again on her victim. "Mr. Darcy, may I introduce my daughters?" Pointing to the girl on her immediate right, she said, "This is my Lydia." Miss Lydia, whom Darcy judged to be around the age of Georgiana, smiled and batted her eyelashes in what she likely believed to be a seductive manner but simply left the impression that she had something in her eye and was suffering from a stomach ailment.

Mrs. Bennet next introduced the daughter on her left, the young lady who had made the statement about Darcy being handsome. "This is Catherine, or as we call her, Kitty." Darcy watched as Miss Kitty blushed a vivid red, barely able to meet his eyes. Darcy felt for the young girl and understood her embarrassment; he didn't like being the center of attention, either.

"And Mary." Mrs. Bennet waved an apathetic hand towards her daughter sitting directly across from Darcy. Darcy gave Miss Mary, whom he knew was aware of his understanding with Elizabeth, a kind smile. He was actually interested in meeting this particular sister of Elizabeth's. He had been surprised and intrigued when Elizabeth had informed him that the words she had shared with him about love and death had actually been from Miss Mary, the young lady sitting so quietly and inconspicuously across from him. Darcy met her light brown eyes, and she gave him a shy smile, her gaze full of understanding. It was clear that Mrs. Bennet cared little for her third daughter, probably because she was the plainest Bennet sister. But despite Miss Mary's mousy brown hair which was styled in an unflattering manner and her apparel which was drab and unadorned, she had potential. Darcy suspected that this particular Bennet sister didn't wish to be noticed and dressed accordingly. Although her appearance was unremarkable at first glance, to the more discerning eye, it was clear that she had a quiet, unassuming beauty. Her features were pleasant, and her eyes held wisdom beyond her years. Yes, Miss Mary had great potential. Darcy knew from Elizabeth that Mary was the quietest of the Bennet sisters, more prone to reflection and contemplation of spiritual matters.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, ladies." Darcy met each of the sister's eyes briefly before turning his gaze reluctantly to Elizabeth's mother. He nodded his head briefly at Mrs. Bennet. "Madam, I thank you for your hospitality." The words glided off his tongue without thought, but there was no real feeling behind them. Mrs. Bennet did not deserve consideration or deference of any kind.

Mrs. Bennet smiled at Darcy. "What brings you to our humble table, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy gave a mental groan. "I had some business with Mr. Bennet."

The calculative gleam returned to Mrs. Bennet's hazel eyes. "Indeed? And what business would that be, Mr. Darcy?"

"The personal kind, Mrs. Bennet," barked Mr. Bennet suddenly. "Kindly stop interrogating my guest."

Mrs. Bennet huffed indignantly at her husband, not bothering to hide her loathing for the man sitting across from her. Thankfully, the warning was heeded, and she returned her attention to her plate.

Darcy ate as quickly as possible without drawing undue attention to himself which was futile as Mrs. Bennet and Miss Lydia stared at him almost constantly. When they weren't blatantly staring at him, they were giving each other knowing looks, and at one point, they even began whispering to one other. Darcy couldn't remember a meal where he had felt more uncomfortable, not even the disaster dinner on his birthday when Miss Bingley had squeezed his knee under the table. He wished desperately that he was already on the road headed back to London and to Elizabeth.

Just when he thought he would escape the most awkward meal of his existence without any further conversation, Miss Lydia suddenly broke the uncomfortable silence by declaring in a rather forceful tone, "I know why you are here! You are come to ask Papa for his consent to marry my sister. I would guess you are here for Lizzy as you seem much too dour and reticent for dear Jane, but we all know that no man with any sense would look twice at Lizzy. She's not good enough for a such fine and handsome gentleman as you." Lydia fluttered her lashes coquettishly. "Am I correct? I am, I know it! You wish to marry Jane!" Miss Lydia's proud gaze swept the occupants of the table before landing triumphantly on Darcy.

Darcy carefully placed his glass on the table before he threw it at the offensive chit, and clenched his jaw shut before he said something that would require a hasty departure and a trip to Gretna Green.

"Lydia! That was unkind, and you should not say such things. Mr. Darcy's business is his own. Leave him be." Mary gently chided her younger sibling before giving Darcy an apologetic look. "Please forgive my sister, Mr. Darcy," she gently entreated.

Before Darcy could reply, Mrs. Bennet interceded. "Oh, do be quiet, Mary! My Lydia doesn't deserve your admonition. She is just curious about Mr. Darcy as we all are." She looked slyly at Darcy before adding, "I knew my Jane couldn't be so beautiful for nothing! Don't you agree, Mr. Darcy?"

Mary heaved a sigh before giving her father a pleading look to say something to stop this line of questioning. When it was apparent that her father was not going to curtail his wife and daughter, Mary asked, "Tell us where you are from, Mr. Darcy. Do you reside in London?"

Darcy looked at Miss Mary with surprise, knowing that she was well aware of his background. He gave her a small smile of gratitude for changing the topic. "My estate is in Derbyshire, Miss Mary, but I also have a town house in London."

"Which do you-"

"Oh! How wonderful!" Mrs. Bennet interjected, glaring at her third daughter. "To be so rich to have two homes! Your estate in Derbyshire must be quite magnificent, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy wiped his mouth. "Not at all, Madam. It is rather small," he lied without an ounce of guilt. She would never see Pemberley, so it was of little consequence if she believed it was less than it was.

Mrs. Bennet blinked foolishly at Darcy, clearly taken aback at his reply. She recovered quickly however and replied, "Nonsense! Surely you must be joking, Mr. Darcy!" When it was clear that she would get no further response from him, she began to prattle on about how lucky Jane was to have caught such a fine and wealthy gentleman, and if he would not mind finding rich husbands for her other girls. "Except for Lizzy, of course," she said matter-of-factly, waving her hand dismissively, an expression of distaste on her face. "That ungrateful girl will never catch a husband," she added peevishly.

"Mama!" admonished Mary as she glanced nervously at Darcy.

Deciding to take pity on Elizabeth's intended, Mr. Bennet stood. "It is getting late; I will see you out, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy stood and looked at Elizabeth's father with barely concealed fury in his eyes. How could the man sit there silent while his wife verbally abused his daughter? How he wished Mr. Bennet had consented to their marriage so he could say what he had been holding back, with enormous amount of self-control, for the entire meal. He turned his furious gaze to Mrs. Bennet and was pleased to see her quail under his censorious gaze, her expression one of confusion. Before he said something he would later regret, he bowed perfunctorily to Mrs. Bennet before following Mr. Bennet from the dining room.

As he left he heard Miss Lydia say, "Well, that was the strangest thing I have ever seen. Did you see his face? He was positively scowling at you, Mama!"

Mr. Bennet was silent as he showed Darcy to the door. "I will see you next week Mr. Darcy with my daughters. I wish you safe travels."

Darcy merely nodded before exiting the oppressive house, his clenched jaw aching from words left unsaid.

~oOOo~

Bingley knocked on the door of Gardiner's town house, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. After his conversation with Darcy the day before at White's when he had been informed that Miss Bennet...Jane...was being pursued by none other than Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, he had made the decision that he would not give her up until she took another's name. He had no reason not to trust Darcy; he had always been a good friend with sound advice, but he couldn't give up his dream of Jane as his wife. He loved her; he was sure of it. He had never met anyone like her, and he knew that she was the woman who would complete his life. Today he would watch her closely and gauge her reaction to his attentions. He could not be wrong in his belief that she welcomed his attentions. After all, she had never given him any indication that she was not pleased with his company. He was not ready to declare himself, but he would make it very clear to Jane that his intentions towards her were serious.

A few moments later, Bingley was in the drawing room awaiting Mrs. Gardiner and Jane. When the butler had received him, he had been informed that the ladies had just returned from shopping and would be down shortly. Bingley paced nervously around the room, stopping occasionally to gaze at a picture or figurine. He idly wandered over to the sofa and sat, his leg bouncing in agitation. He exhaled loudly before jumping to his feet to resume his pacing. As he stepped away from the sofa, his foot got caught on a basket and he tripped, nearly sending him to his knees. After regaining his footing, he turned to see what had caused him to trip and spied an overturned sewing basket, the contents strewn across the floor. Grumbling under his breath, he hurriedly righted the basket and began gathering the contents, haphazardly tossing the items inside. After gathering all that he could see, he peered around to determine if he had missed anything. Spying a paper lying halfway under the sofa, he bent down to retrieve it.

Bingley stood with the folded paper in his hand and went to place it in the basket when he spied Jane's name written across the front in a decidedly masculine hand. Brows lowered in bewilderment, he stared at what was obviously a letter written to Jane. But from whom? It was unsealed, just a single sheet of paper folded in half. He gazed at it for a brief moment before making a decision. Opening the folded letter, he took a deep breath and began to read.

An indeterminate amount of time later found Bingley staring wide-eyed at the single piece of paper in his shaking hand. He felt a wave of shame for reading such a private and personal letter, but upon further reflection, he found that he was glad. This letter changed everything. Bingley gripped the Colonel's passionate declaration in his hand, his eyes blazing with renewed determination and resolve. Hearing voices outside the room, Bingley quickly refolded the letter and placed it in his jacket before turning a welcoming smile, and warm greeting at his beautiful Jane.

A/N: I told ya...I know that all of you are absolutely furious with me right now. I can practically hear your angry mumblings...Bingley would never do that! (Well, my Bingley would) or, how could he take the Colonel's letter? (He wants Jane and is not above playing dirty. Remember, he did say all is fair in love and war in the last chapter.) *sigh* So, bring it on, I can take it ;)

Personally, I am more furious with Mr. Bennet. ODC has a bumpy road ahead so brace yourselves!

Much love,

MAH