Fitzwilliam Darcy had always been told he was born for greatness. "You are going to achieve many wonderful things and do many wonderful deeds," his father would say. "You are going to make someone's life better."

"How?" the young Fitzwilliam would ask. But his father never gave him a satisfying answer. He simply said, "You'll know." At the age of eight and twenty Fitzwilliam Darcy still didn't feel that he had greatly benefited anyone's life. He was simply "Mr. Darcy", a respectable gentleman who owned a large estate in Derbyshire. Yes, he gave to charities and took good care of his tenants but had he truly helped one special person? He did not think so. Although, there was his sister, Georgiana.

Mr. Darcy truly loved little Georgiana with all his heart. After their parents died, he became more of a father than a brother to her. Long ago (or was it very recently? He could not tell for it seemed like only yesterday.) they were playing games and chasing each other around Pemberley…Now he was having to save her from ruination by malevolent young men! But Darcy did not want to think of that now. Thinking of Wickham would only make his pounding headache worse. The thought he then chose to focus on was this: Had he truly done something to make Georgiana's life better? She had been acting very distant and shy lately, never speaking above a hush. Dear God, had he eternally embarrassed her? The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his dear sister.

But enough of this constant worrying. It was not Georgiana whom he needed to be concerned about. It was Bingley.

As the carriage, yet again, hit another bump in the road, Mr. Darcy closed his eyes and sighed, trying to release the anxiety he'd developed during his long journey to Hertfordshire. Good God, Hertfordshire. Why had he ever agreed to this agonizing trip? And why was he asking himself this? He knew why. Bingley depended on him. Always wanting an estate in the country, Mr. Bingley had recently rented an estate near Meryton. "Darcy, you must come out to see the place and give me your honest opinion of it," he had said. "Please say you will!" Darcy could not refuse. How could he refuse him? He had become so excited Darcy feared his head would pop right off his body.

"You may come out to Hertfordshire next week, and Netherfield Park shall be ready for your arrival," Bingley had said with the brightest of smiles.

Yes, but would he be ready for it? Darcy sighed once more. Hertfordshire. Far removed from polite society. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't be in constant contact with these people.

You are going to make someone's life better…the late Mr. Darcy's crossed through the current Mr. Darcy's mind once more. Had he truly helped Bingley by encouraging him to rent Netherfield? Should he have warned him against it? Had he done the right thing? His father's words often possessed his thoughts, but now? Now they seemed to be racing through his head in all directions in a manner that made him want to scream. You are going to make someone's life better…It reeled through his mind and soul again and again. You are going to make someone's life better…He could not take it.

"No more!"

"Did you say something, sir?" the valet's inquiry interrupted Darcy's turmoil.

"No," Darcy softly but firmly replied. "No, Kendall. I didn't." He stretched and tried to shake off his discomfiture, but found he was in dire need of a rest. "Kendall?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you have any notion of where we are?"

"I believe we have just reached Meryton, sir."

Darcy yearned for a comfortable rest. So much so he didn't want to wait till they reached Netherfield. "Well Kendall, I am longing for a comfortable bed to sleep in tonight. Is the feeling mutual? he said with a sleepy chuckle.

"Very much so," the valet assured his master with a laugh.

Darcy smiled. Kendall wasn't only his valet. He was his good friend. "Then I think we should stop at an inn for the night. Bingley can wait till morning. Notify the driver will you?"

"Yes, sir."

The carriage soon stopped at a dark and desolate establishment with a large wooden sign hanging in front if the door. Darcy could not help but notice how odd it was. It merely said,

AUSTEN INN

in big bold letters with a small picture of a book beneath it.

"A singular looking place," his valet observed.

"Indeed," was Darcy's only reply as he knocked on the door. He was so tired he could sleep anywhere, no matter how singular.