England in the long hot summer of 1939...A country house party gathers. Rich, privileged young people idle their time away without a care in the world, much to the disgust of one of their neighbours. Unlike the London socialites at Netherfield Park, Elizabeth Bennet is all too conscious of what is happening in the world beyond Meryton and has little time for people with such frivolous lives and certainly not for one rather haughty young man in particular. Fitzwilliam Darcy doesn't appear to be enjoying his stay in Meryton and he soon provokes Elizabeth's annoyance with his dismissive attitude towards her concerns.

However, the storm clouds of war are gathering over Europe and as the summer ends, the lives of Elizabeth and Darcy will change forever. The summer of 1940 will bring the war very close to home and, pitched into a nation's desperate battle for survival, Elizabeth and Darcy will come to look at their lives and each other very differently.

Chapter One

Summer 1939

Was it the dismissive tone of his voice, the disdainful tilt of his chin as he spoke or the words themselves which offended Elizabeth Bennet most? As she gazed upon the profile of the dark-haired, handsome man, spied from her vantage point, partially hidden in the folds of one of the faded-with-age velvet curtains hanging forlornly at the windows of the Meryton Town Hall, she realised with a start of surprise, that the absurdity of his declaration amused her slightly more than it offended. It was, after all, absurd to imagine that a man accustomed to the finest things in life, moving in high society, wealthy beyond most people's dreams and, no doubt, frequently seen gracing the dance floor of the Café de Paris, would find anything to enjoy in a provincial country dance. His pronouncement that he didn't consider her attractive enough to be his dance partner, though undeniably hurtful, only served to relieve her of any concern about his opinion. He could think whatever he liked of them all; it would never matter to her.

When the party from Netherfield Park had entered the hall earlier that evening, the gentle hum of conversation had momentarily hushed in universal astonishment. There had been little expectation that the group of London socialites, so recently arrived in the neighbourhood, would venture beyond the confines of the Netherfield estate and certainly not to attend something as mundane as the Meryton dance.

Netherfield Park had been let to a young man by the name of Charles Bingley several weeks ago and since that time there had been much rumour in Meryton of the large number of guests staying there, of all night parties, deliveries of the finest food and champagne directly from Fortnum & Masons in London and all other manner of frivolity. Little had actually been seen of the occupants apart from the occasional brief glimpse of Mr Bingley racing through Meryton in his red Lagonda. Even such a brief sighting as this had fuelled much gossip in the town, the chief of which had been relayed to the Bennets by their aunt, Mrs Phillps, and by Elizabeth's younger sisters, Kitty and Lydia, who found an excuse almost every day to venture into town. From the little that was known, and the much imagined and invented, it was generally reported that Charles Bingley was very rich and very handsome.

When the doors of the Town Hall opened that evening to admit a party of five people, strangers to all present, every eye in the room was instantly turned upon them. Three men and two women, all fashionably and expensively dressed and looking exceedingly like fish out of water in such an unfamiliar environment, glided into the hall and, with little attempt to hide their curiosity, turned their heads from side to side to survey their surroundings. From the wide-eyed expression of alarm on the faces of the two women, the raised eyebrows and the whispered asides, it was obvious to Elizabeth that the Meryton dance did not meet with their approval.

Turning her attention to the men, Elizabeth at once recognised, from the general description which had been circulated, that the youngest man who was fair-haired, in his early twenties and, unlike the women, smiling broadly to all in general, must be Charles Bingley. Slightly to his left and reaching for the arm of one of the ladies was an older man. From the way in which the lady shrugged him off without any attempt at politeness, Elizabeth assumed he could only be her husband. Bringing up the rear of the party was a tall dark-haired young man. It was no credit to anyone's intelligence to recognise that this man was easily the most handsome in the room and he soon drew the attention of every woman.

The three piece band on the stage at the far end of the hall started up with a ponderous rendition of In Apple Blossom Time and for a moment it seemed as if the assembled youth and, in some cases, not so youthful residents of Meryton would be too overawed by their visitors to risk making an exhibition of themselves in such company. However, a few stalwarts of the dance floor, either too young or too old to care about appearances, began, after a slight hesitation, to shuffle around the floor in time to the rhythm of the music and the conversation in the room began again, fuelled by one obvious topic.

It hadn't taken more than half an hour's observation for Elizabeth to form an opinion of what she had seen and turning to her friend, Charlotte Lucas, she declared: 'It looks as though our visitors aren't enjoying themselves very much, apart from Mr Bingley.' She smiled at the thought that he, at least, appeared well-mannered enough to engage in conversation with others in the room and was bold enough to have asked a few of the ladies to dance including her older sister, Jane.

'He seems a very nice young man,' Charlotte agreed.

'It's a pity the same can't be said of the other man. Just look at his face.'

Charlotte turned to look at the tall, dark-haired man who was standing alone at one side of the dance floor. He had been walking around for some time and seemed disinterested in the proceedings. In fact, it was more than that; he looked angry.

'He thinks this is beneath him,' Elizabeth surmised. 'I don't suppose we're smart enough for him in Meryton.'

'You can't really blame him for that,' Charlotte replied more reasonably than Elizabeth thought necessary. 'Apparently, from what I overheard, he's very rich and owns a large estate in Derbyshire.'

'Then I wish he'd gone there and taken his friends with him,' Elizabeth countered with spirit. 'We don't need people like him idling their time away because they've nothing better to do and looking down on the rest of us into the bargain.'

Charlotte smiled at her friend. She was used to the forthright manner in which Elizabeth expressed her opinions on a range of subjects and often found herself silently agreeing. Elizabeth was younger than her by six years but, having grown up as near neighbours and spent many hours in each other's company, they had discovered at a young age that they were liked-minded if not necessarily alike in temperament. Charlotte was generally considered to be plain and, at twenty-seven, though not beyond hope of meeting 'Mr Right' one day, realized that she was running out of options. Many of her peers had married at an early age leaving her in the unenviable position of seeming a confirmed spinster. Elizabeth, however, valued her friendship. Charlotte was sensible and wise and, although naturally more reserved, not without a sense of humour. Furthermore, she possessed a keen eye and observance of all that passed within Meryton society and was an invaluable ally to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, although not considered equal in looks to her elder sister, even by her own mother, was nevertheless an attractive young woman who possessed a keen sense of humour and a quick wit countered with a great deal of good sense which she assumed she must have inherited from her father. She found amusement in many of the little absurdities met with on a daily basis but had a good appreciation of the important things in life. Her family and her neighbours possessed habits and foibles which amused her no end but, for all their peculiar ways, they were the people amongst whom she had grown up these past twenty years and she had the humility and good grace never to ridicule them or consider herself somehow superior.

That Elizabeth should have expressed her annoyance at the attitude of these visitors to Meryton was no surprise to Charlotte but gazing across the room and catching sight of Jane, who had just accepted another invitation to dance with Mr Bingley, she couldn't help asking with a hint of amusement: 'Do you think Jane would rather they had gone to Derbyshire?'

Elizabeth followed the direction of her friend's eyes and saw at once that Jane, a famed local beauty and considered a catch for some lucky young man one day, appeared to be enjoying the attention of Mr Bingley very much. He was talking to her as they danced, his expression animated, and Elizabeth, knowing her sister so well, had no doubt that she liked him very much.

'Well, Jane is the most patient and forgiving person you are ever likely to meet,' she conceded to Charlotte, 'and, in all fairness, I have to agree that Mr Bingley is making an effort but as for the others…'

She turned to look at the two young women who were now seated at a table near the dance floor but seemed intent on talking to no one but each other and surreptitiously laughing behind their hands at all they saw. The older man Elizabeth had supposed to be the husband of one of them, had drifted away and was propping up the bar at the rear of the hall where a whisky or three seemed to have made the occasion more bearable for him. Looking around the room to locate the third man and seeing him standing opposite near a window, she was startled and discomfited to catch his eye. For a few uncomfortable seconds they gazed at each other, both unwilling to break the spell and look away first. For Elizabeth it became almost a matter of pride not to be intimidated and she held steady until, to her irritation, he raised his eyebrows in a gesture of apparent astonishment that she should be staring at him and then turned abruptly on his heel and walked away.

'Did you see that, Charlotte?' Elizabeth cried. 'He thought I was being impudent.'

'Really?' The corners of Charlotte's mouth were twitching in amusement and she added, 'Well, I certainly think he noticed you.'

'Good,' Elizabeth declared with feeling. 'He might be happy to waste his time, standing about disapproving of everything but at least he won't need to waste any time wondering what I think of him.'

Charlotte allowed the subject to drop but she couldn't help thinking that if Elizabeth's opinion of their new neighbours was correct, there was little likelihood of the tall, handsome man ever giving her a second thought.

ooOoo

The young woman opposite was staring at him. Quite unintentionally he had caught her eye and she seemed determined to hold his gaze. It was an awkward moment but, to his surprise, Darcy found himself staring back, captivated by the expression of her dark eyes as they fixed upon him. There was a challenge in that look, the reason for which he couldn't comprehend and being unfamiliar with his surroundings and unsure how to respond, he decided to retreat.

Darcy turned and walked away, wishing once again that Charles hadn't persisted with this spur of the moment notion of attending a country dance. He had declared to everyone at afternoon tea that it would be a "charming" idea to attend and, despite the initial reluctance of his two sisters, he had eventually persuaded them and his elder sister's husband to accompany him. Their motives for attending, Darcy suspected, were less innocent than Charles's view that a small country dance would make a refreshing change after the excesses of the social scene in London. After all, he had cajoled them, the whole reason for taking a summer let in the country had been to enjoy a slower pace of life.

Charles's sisters, Caroline and Louisa, although often publicly declaring they felt nowhere more at home than in London, had nevertheless seemed keen enough to join him at Netherfield Park and, consequently, to live at his expense. Being well acquainted with their brother's generous nature, particularly since he had inherited the bulk of their father's fortune, they had little difficulty in persuading him that life in the country needn't be overly rustic and certainly nor devoid of a few luxuries and Charles had been as happy as ever to oblige. Now, however, looking at the expressions on the faces of his friend's sisters, Darcy was sure that they were enjoying the dance for all the wrong reasons.

After his hasty decision this afternoon, Darcy had tried to persuade Charles not to go ahead with his plan.

'You don't know anyone here, Charles. I'm not sure that attending the dance is the best way of introducing yourself and, in any case, I don't think it will be quite as you expect.'

Charles had looked astonished. 'What better way is there to introduce myself to the locals?'

Darcy, accustomed to Charles's rapid but not always fully considered decision making process, managed to maintain his patience. 'There you have it in a nutshell, Charles. Referring to the Meryton residents as "the locals," already makes it sound as if you think they inhabit another planet. Don't you think it might be just a little awkward for all concerned?'

Charles smiled. 'Awkward for you, don't you mean, Darcy. You don't enjoy dances at the best of times.'

Darcy sighed. 'Whether I like dancing or not has nothing to do with it. This is the first time you or any of us will have ventured into the town since we came here and the dance will be nothing like either you or your sisters have experienced before. It might just seem a little patronising.'

Charles had laughed aloud. 'That makes you sound a terrible snob, Darcy.'

Darcy shook his head. 'I'm not a snob, Charles. You should know that. What I'm trying to say is that you mentioned only yesterday the possibility of settling here permanently and first impressions are important.'

Charles had clapped Darcy reassuringly on the shoulder and he had heard the sincerity in his voice as he replied: 'I'll be on my best behaviour. I promise, Darcy.'

Darcy said no more on the subject. Charles had clearly made up his mind and Darcy was, after all, a guest in his home. He knew that Charles was unlikely to ever offend anyone; it was one of the reasons he enjoyed his company so much. They had been friends for a couple of years, having met through their shared interest in flying and Darcy admired the young man's character, his easy-going, good-natured approach to life and his ability to charm and put others at ease in his company. They were very different personalities and at first glance many would have been surprised that they should have struck up such a firm friendship. However, Charles valued Darcy's good sense and advice, particularly now that he had come into his inheritance and was making important decisions about his future. Darcy had experience of taking the reins of a large estate at a relatively young age and understood all the responsibilities that it entailed and he was not afraid to offer his advice. He knew that Charles often valued it above his own sisters although today, for once, he had seemed adamant that he wanted to attend the dance in Meryton.

It was not really Charles's behaviour that concerned Darcy. If he was honest, it was Caroline, Louisa and even Louisa's husband, Frederick, which concerned him more. The Bingley sisters were accustomed to moving in fashionable circles. They were expensively educated, had attended finishing school and, as was strictly the custom, had been debutantes and done The Season with great success. They both possessed the ability to be entertaining and engaging company when they chose and amongst their friends and acquaintances in London they were highly regarded and never short of invitations to parties, dinners and country weekends. Consequently, they had learned to think very well of themselves. If Darcy was honest, it was the public reaction of Louisa and Caroline to the limited delights of a country dance which had concerned him most when Charles had proposed the excursion.

No sooner had the party entered the Town Hall this evening than Darcy's fears had been confirmed. He saw exactly what he had expected; a dingy room, a mediocre band trotting out a standard set of uninspiring hits from yesteryear and a half-filled hall of distinctly unfashionable local residents who were regarding the Netherfield party with undisguised curiosity. Darcy was embarrassed by the attention and, seeking to hide his awkwardness, he had walked slowly around the room trying to keep out of the limelight as much as possible. Charles, by contrast and to his great credit, seemed to pay little heed to his surroundings. He was his usual charming self and had soon struck up conversation with several of the older residents in the room and before long had been introduced to one or two young women and had taken to the dance floor with a particularly striking partner.

Darcy had lost track of time, listening to the interminable, ponderous beat of the drummer marking time for a waltz, a foxtrot, a quickstep and then, inevitably, another waltz whilst the dancers shuffled around and then politely clapped at the end of each tune. It was only when the lights came up and the band beat a retreat whilst supper was served from long trestle tables at the rear of the hall, that Darcy had caught up with Charles again.

'Well, what do you think, Darcy? Isn't it just as charming as I said it would be?'

Darcy could tell that his friend was in high spirits. 'If you say so, Charles.'

'Cheer up, Darcy; I swear I've never met prettier girls or nicer people. It's just a shame that it all ends so early.'

Darcy gave a weak smile and Bingley frowned. 'Come on, Darcy, why don't you take a turn around the floor? You've only danced with Caroline and Louisa since you got here and there are lots of girls sitting around who'd love to be asked.'

Darcy felt awkward again. He could tell that Charles was in a particularly happy mood and keen for everyone else to feel likewise but he would never be able to match his friend's enthusiasm. Feeling mildly irritated, he sought to deflect him before he became too insistent about the dancing.

'I can't see what you're getting so excited about. It's a rather dull dance, with a mediocre band and, let's be honest, uninspiring company.'

Charles stared at him in genuine surprise. 'I have to disagree with you, old man. Jane Bennet is the most delightful girl I've met in a very long time.'

Darcy gazed across the hall and seeing the undisputed loveliness of the eldest Bennet sister had to give ground.

'Very well, I concede that Miss Bennet is easily the most attractive girl in the room but you are dancing with her.'

Charles cast around him and then lowered his voice a little. 'Look there's one of her sisters standing over there. She's very pretty. Why don't you ask her to dance?'

Darcy followed the direction of his friend's gaze and seeing a dark-haired young woman standing nearby, almost cloaked in the folds of one of the ancient velvet curtains at the window, recognised, with a start of unwelcome surprise, the young woman who had been staring at him across the dance floor a little while ago. The memory of the uncompromising look she had thrown him and the unsettling feelings it had engendered was enough to dissuade him from even considering an invitation let alone approaching her.

He frowned. 'I think, in the circumstances, it would take a lot more to tempt me, Charles. I don't know why you think I would want to dance with her.'

Charles shook his head in genuine disbelief. 'Very well, Darcy, have it your own way but I think you're missing out. I certainly wouldn't be so fastidious.'

Charles drifted away and was soon to be seen dancing yet again with the striking woman whom Darcy now knew to be Jane Bennet. He was not surprised by his friend's praise of her as she was, without doubt, very beautiful, possessed a sweet smile and seemed to be a very good-humoured girl, if her occasional laughter at Charles's remarks, coupled with the serene expression on her face as they glided around the floor, were anything by which to judge.

Darcy was not surprised that Charles should express his appreciation of a new acquaintance so soon after they had met. Charles Bingley and procrastination were not close friends; whatever he did was done with speed, whether it was choosing his clothes in the morning, buying a car, settling on a house to rent or falling in love. It was not the first time he had been captivated by a young woman he had only just met and, if events ran true to form, it would be all over within a week.

Darcy turned away from the dance floor and as he did so he caught sight of the clock on the wall. It was half past ten and with luck the dance would conclude in an hour so, they would all stand to sing God save the King and then return to Netherfield, bringing the whole evening, most thankfully, to an end.

ooOoo

'What did you think of Mr Bingley?'

Jane's question to Elizabeth was casual in tone and not heard by the other occupants of the car. They were sitting in the back of Mr Bennet's Austin as their father drove them home from the dance. Lydia, being only sixteen, loud, excitable and naturally high-spirited, had decided to sit in the front seat alongside her father and, no doubt much to his dismay, was recounting every detail of the dance to him. Kitty, although sitting in the back with Elizabeth and Jane, was hanging over the front seats, throwing in a word or explanation whenever Lydia would allow her to get a word in edgeways. At seventeen and a half, Kitty was often peeved at the way her overbearing younger sister managed to grab attention. Both were talking loudly about the evening's events although they could not have relayed the details to anyone less interested in hearing them. Mr Bennet kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead and closed his ears as best he could. At least once he had returned home and put the car away in the garage he could escape to his study to drink his cocoa in peace, safe in the knowledge that he was unlikely to be disturbed by anyone for the rest of the evening.

Had Elizabeth not seen with her own eyes the obvious admiration of Mr Bingley for her elder sister, she might have been deceived into believing that Jane's question regarding Mr Bingley was entirely innocent and that she had no more than a passing interest in Elizabeth's opinion.

'Perhaps it would be more appropriate to ask what you think of him, Jane, because from what I saw, it was obvious that he liked you.'

Jane shrugged. 'He's a very charming young man but I daresay he was no more pleasant to me than anyone else.'

Elizabeth laughed. 'He's a charming man indeed and one who knows a pretty girl when he sees her.'

'It's a pity, however, that his friend was so rude,' Jane responded.

Elizabeth shook her head. 'Don't worry on my account, Jane. I'm really not bothered about the opinion of a man like that and, if we're on the subject of people being sneering about others, I couldn't care less what Mr Bingley's sisters think of us either. Honestly, at a time like this, there's so much more to worry about than the social life of Meryton or anywhere else.'

The silence from Jane which followed this remark alerted Elizabeth to the fact that she had said something unfortunate. She was well aware that Jane, although intelligent, sensible and conscious of the growing tension in the country with the difficult situation unfolding week by week in Europe, was nevertheless, not one to dwell on such unhappy and worrying news or feel inclined to discuss it at length. Elizabeth, by contrast, took a keen interest in developments, read the newspapers, listened to the wireless, watched the newsreels at the pictures and discussed the escalating situation with her father who was glad of some intelligent conversation and valued his daughter's opinion.

Elizabeth lowered her voice. 'Did I say something wrong?'

'No,' Jane said in a hesitant undertone. 'I understand why you might think that about Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst but when Mr Bingley introduced me to them I found them quite pleasant.'

Elizabeth let this pass. It didn't surprise her that her modest and kind-hearted sister would be generous enough to overlook the obvious disdain both the ladies had displayed on their arrival at the dance and at various other points during the evening.

'I'm glad to hear it,' Elizabeth said without conviction.

'Well, perhaps you'll have a chance to find out for yourself,' Jane replied with what sounded like a forced note of light-heartedness.

Elizabeth turned her head to look at her sister, suddenly suspicious. 'What do you mean?'

Even in the darkness, unable to see more than the outline of Jane's face, Elizabeth could sense that her sister was nervous.

'I hope you don't mind, Elizabeth, but they kindly invited both us for tea at Netherfield Park on Monday afternoon and I accepted.'

Elizabeth, despite her love for her sister, couldn't help but sigh in exasperation. It was a stretch of the imagination to think of Mr Bingley's sisters kindly doing anything for anyone and having sensed for most of the evening that they were all being subjected to their private ridicule, Elizabeth was both highly surprised and rather suspicious of their motives. After the events of this evening, an invitation to Netherfield Park and closer association with people for whom she felt so little respect was the very last thing she wanted.