The next morning brought weather so fair that Elizabeth practically itched to be out of doors. She promised herself that she would tend to a particularly difficult spot in the garden after her walk and she was true to her promise. Mrs. Hill came upon her alternately trimming, then poking herself through her gardening gloves, cursing the beautiful rose for it's fair face and thorny spine, shaking her hand and going back in for more.

In one of these rotations she looked up and sighed at her misfortune and saw Mrs. Hill coming towards her saying, "Miss Bennet, Mr. Hill can spare the heavier barn gloves today if you wish to continue to trim the roses here."

"Yes, yes, but you know that I am stubborn and believe myself immune to such norms of human nature as sloppily pricking myself on a rose thorn! What dolt would do that? Better, what dolts would do it over and over?" Elizabeth openly laughed at herself and her misery in her chore but she looked serious when Mrs. Hill did not join into her merriment.

"What ever is the matter Mrs. Hill? I suppose you have made headway on my mission last night and it is not favorable." Sarah nodded and Elizabeth continued, "may I tell you what I suspect the story is for, as you know, I relish in either my own good penetration of a character or my own folly?"

"Of course madam, I would not deprive you of any entertainment and, as it was when you were a child, I enjoy hearing your conclusions whether they be right or wrong."

"You are the soul of kindness, and I suspect, humor at my expense." She gently railed and then continued on with wit in her eyes, "After thinking on the entirety of my connections with both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham I have concluded that Mr. Darcy must be at fault. He has been categorically unpleasant in society and I feel strongly that he must be forgiven only because of his wealth and status. Men such as that get away with a great deal. I suspect that Mr. Wickham has suffered an injury at the hands of Mr. Darcy. What do you think? From your face I see you think I read too many novels. I really I do. They just fill my head with nonsense- how droll of me." She finished with a mischievous smile and then went on with, "And I suppose, Mrs. Hill, you are come to tell me that it is as I imagine but you do not want me to think less of Mr. Darcy. Jane would shudder to know this, but it is hard for me to think less of him than I do now."

Mrs Hill with true sympathy in her eyes, said, "It seems, Bethy, that I am placed in an awkward position then but I must tell you the truth."

"Oh, my dear Hill, it must be unpleasant if you have resorted to your pet names but I must admit, it does bring me back to memories of summer haze and time spent in our meadows. Bethy and SweetJay. It is such a perfect nickname for our dear Jane. Perhaps I will have the fortune to tell Mr. Bingley of it in the future, but really, you must go on. Pet names or not I shall die of suspense!"

"Well then, Bethy, since you have slyly walked me into a corner you must understand that if I agree with your version of events I find I malign your characterizations of men I have not met and if I disagree I dash your wit and logic to folly."

"Just so my dear Hill," Elizabeth smiled, "But you must know that I could never do anything but love the woman who read me my first Shakespearean sonnet and taught me the beauty of the forest and the sparkle of the morning sun."

Hill had a little tear in her eye when she responded, "Aye, my little Bethy, you and SweetJay are the apples of my eye."

Elizabeth, with utter disregard for propriety, expectations, rank or station threw her arms around Mrs. Hill and hugged her as she remembered she did as a child. They were both a little sloppier for their tears when they separated and much distracted from their purpose by sweet memories of times gone by and incidentally as they discussed some of these memories, Jane happened upon them.

Elizabeth said, "Why if it isn't SweetJay herself. Mrs. Hill and I were just reminiscing over old times."

Jane replied, "How funny of you to bring it up," she turned to Mrs. Hill, " It is an odd coincidence, you will soon see, you all talking thus when I was just wondering if Elizabeth and I could present you with a little cross-stitch we made for your 20th wedding anniversary. It is not timely, I apologize, but you know our stitching skills were never what you wanted them to be so we worked hard to make it just right. I will run and get it. What a perfect setting to give it to you. Stay as you both are!"

As Jane ran into the house, Elizabeth said, "Ever the romantic Miss Jane Bennet. I'm afraid I am not as gracious though, if you do not tell me what you've discovered I will hold your anniversary gift ransom!"

Mrs. Hill laughingly responded, "Far be it from me to cause a stitch of the realm to come to harm! I will tell you what I know though it be incomplete."

After an explanation of yesterday evenings events and her sister's negative reaction they had time for one brief question before Jane returned, Elizabeth asked, "Did your sister divulge her source at least? I find it rather odd that there is a connection between them unknown to us."

Mrs. Hill responded, "My sister had occasion to make many connections when she attended the Annesley School for Girls in Ramsgate. I cannot vouch for any of them, only my firm belief that she is an excellent and a fair judge of characters and she did meet him in her shop as well. It does not look good for Mr. Wickham."

"I suppose so, but alas, here is my sister," and with that their confidential conversation was ended.

Jane arrived and the two girls presented Mrs. Hill with a very finely done framed cross-stitch with the name of Hill as a center piece and her wedding anniversary date. In the corners where one had to look harder to see, Elizabeth and Jane had sewn a small Bluejay with an "E" and "J" in it's wing.

They parted amicably, Elizabeth and Jane back to the rose bed and Mrs. Hill to the kitchen to prepare luncheon. The two girls were eventually interrupted my Mr. Collins who they encouraged to try his hand at the pruning and as he droned on and worked and frequently pricked himself they slid away into the house and enjoyed a quiet respite together.

Elizabeth did not share with Jane what she had learned from Mrs. Hill. She was not sure what to make of it herself. The implications of Mr. Darcy potentially being the injured party was not easily reconcilable with her first impressions of him. When their father joined them and inquired how they got on that day, Elizabeth did have enough penetration into her own character and good humor to respond, "Well Father I find that your most sensible daughter, Jane, grows lovely and your most foolish daughter, Elizabeth, grows foolish in direct proportion to one another." Mr. Bennet cast an interesting glance at her but did not question her further and they sat in silent harmony occupied with their own thoughts and activities until interrupted by a loudly screeched, "Jane, Elizabeth, I need you this instant!" emanated from Mrs. Bennet dressing room.


While Jane and Elizabeth were quitting the sanctuary of the parlor to assist Mrs. Bennet, in Netherfield another lady was quite put out. Caroline Bingley was angry with her personal maid. Her dress for dinner was not as she had imagined it. The sleeves were too long for fashion and showed too little of her alabaster skin- the latter being their real sin. She needed to distract Mr. Darcy from a pair of "fine eyes" and she was willing to use all of her resources.

"Penny, if you cannot take these sleeves up this instant I refuse to be seen this evening!" She said, giving vent to more spleen.

"Yes Ma'am, if you would give me forty-five minutes I believe that we can make the necessary adjustments."

Caroline replied, "It better only take thirty! I do not have all day to wait for a dress that ought to have been done the way I wanted it in the first place. I will wait exactly that long for another fitting and if it is not done I will have you dismissed where you stand. Is that understood?"

Penny replied with a meek curtsey, grabbed the dress and dashed from the room in a flurry. In the hall Mr. Darcy's valet had heard the entirety of the conversation, including the unwritten bits that did Miss Bingley even less credit. She was a fiery soul when she was worked up. He managed to stop the full out sprint of Penny with just one forbidding look as she came out of the door for he was every bit as commanding as Mr. Darcy. Penny was pale and looked like a weak puppy torn between Mr. Darcy's valet who was quite the most respected staff member she had ever worked with and Miss Bingley's threat. He continued to look at her and put a single index finger over his lips to signal that he wanted her silence and then beckoned her to follow him.

Thomas Sharp was the second son of Mr. Darcy's grandfather's valet. His family had been in personal service to the Darcys for at least 80 years now. He knew all the family's secrets and was consummately trusted by Mr. Darcy and his father before him and their lady folk. On the job he was professional, quiet and observant. Off the job he was rather quieter and commanded a position in the servant pecking order that only Mrs. Reynolds came close to touching. He was tall, thin and perfectly kept. He had aquiline features, though they were gaunt, and his once black hair was touched with the proper amount of gray to command yet more fear in the hearts of young servants such as Penny Tillar.

He walked ahead of Penny at a slow measured pace with his hands clasped behind him. Penny nearly cried out she was so impatient to move and be done with her errand. She did not think she could have done the mending in thirty minutes let alone however long she had left now. She felt a wave of sadness take over- she would be fired and then what would happen with her poor little Emma? Tears began to sting her eyes as Mr. Sharp opened the door to Mr. Darcy's dressing room.

He commanded her to sit and said, "If you do not cease crying I will cast you to that lady down the hall!"

She attempted to stem the tide of tears and sobs that only continued unbidden and said, "Yes, sir."

He replied, "Now, give me this dress. I will mend the sleeves for you in five minutes for I have been longer at the trade than you." She looked awestruck. He took the dress and then continued, "In the future I would suggest that you prepare all Miss Bingley's gowns in such a way that she may display more of her charms."

Penny tried to figure if he was cracking wise at her expense or Miss Bingley's but he was totally unreadable and she assumed he was far too respectful for either. She finally took him to be serious about his last statement and she must try harder to please Miss Bingley.

In five minutes, amazingly, the work was done. Mr. Sharp used a stitch that she had only ever seen employed at professional seamstresses in London. He said, "Now, this is not a permanent stitch. It will pass for the evening but you must still invest time in making this alteration more permanent. If you desire it, I will teach you this stitch. For now, return to your mistress."

He bowed and Penny curtsied as words came without filter, "Oh you are too kind! Please teach me! I would sit at your feet every day and learn your trade!" She did not take time to wait for his response or look at his expression or she would have seen a softening that rarely appeared on his well-defined features. Penny ran down the hall to Miss Bingley's room, was greeted with a snarl, and told she "only just satisfied" Miss Bingley who really had desired her to fail so that she could remove Charles' servant if for no other reason than she did not like to be put out.


As he came down the hall from an afternoon ride Mr. Darcy heard the tail end of Caroline's departure from her room, "It better not have one wrinkle in it when I return from my walk!" He bowed to Caroline thinking that Charles' hallways really were too narrow and she smiled a wide smile that looked every bit as fake as the emotion behind it and said, "Isn't it just so hard to find good help? But you must not suffer so- your servants are all that is proper and pleasing."

Mr. Darcy, not wanting to encourage her conversation in such confined quarters only responded, "Just as you a say they are madam," and he slid past her to his quarters to wash the dust from his ride off from himself.

Mr. Sharp, awaiting Mr. Darcy's return was meditating over what pleasure a gentle and open spirit in a woman could bestow on a man with a curious look on his face. He heard his master's heavy and intentional footsteps in the hall he was interrupted from his reverie.

Mr. Darcy entered his dressing room and without ceremony pulled at and loosened his tie and sat on his couch. Mr. Sharp snapped-to and began removing his well polished riding boots very carefully. Mr. Darcy held the man's shoulder for stability and asked, "Who is the maid taking care of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst and how does she get on?"

Sharp replied, "It is a young lady of three and twenty years from the neighboring town, Meryton, by the name of Penny Tillar."

"And is she adequate for the job?"

"I find that she is adequate for the job for which she was hired, but perhaps not for the job which Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst demand of her but she is a quick pupil and has much motivation to improve."

"What do you mean?"

He cleared his throat, "Master, she has an illegitimate child conceived while she was at Ramsgate which I understand is her home town. She is most eager to retain her position here."

"I see."

The terse men said nothing further on the subject. Words were not necessary for Mr. Darcy trusted Mr. Sharp's opinion implicitly. If his assessment was that she was adequate for the job then it must be so and therefore it must be Caroline at fault. He was not surprised at yet another demonstration of her poor manners and marveled that she thought she could be mistress of Pemberly for it was painfully clear to him that that was her mission. Why would she not see that she was ill suited for it and leave him be?