Two weeks later…

"You're going where!" Mama yelled as I closed my eyes against her high railed screech while massaging the bulging muscles that were now leaping at my temples. Five minutes in her presence and I already had a headache. Ah, mama! I could hear her even now moving across the room in agitation as she rustled through the apartment's cabinets looking, no doubt, for the prescription of anti-depressants she kept insisting she needed. It was also the reason she spent more time sleeping than she did awake. And that particular reason was why papa kept encouraging her to take them. I could hear Jane snickering slightly from the side of the room and I resorted to taking deep meditative breaths to keep from opening my eyes and glaring over at her. Instead, I looked over at mama carefully. I had spent the last two weeks pretending to go to my old job while meeting with Jane and a few other associates instead in preparation for a translating job overseas. Yes, translating. Whatever works, right? Imperial publishing was an international company and the 'Boss' was planning to set up a branch in Italy. The translating job had finally panned out but not without a fight. According to my overseas boss, I was too young for the position, not experienced enough. But my recommendations were high, and the man was obviously desperate enough for someone who could speak Italian to allow me to take on the job. Allow me my ass! I could still hear his voice burning against my eardrums as mama moaned and groaned.

"Nobody teaches or speaks English better than the English. What makes you think that you can do better? Better yet, how can I be sure that your Italian isn't tainted by American slang?" He had asked over the phone as I spoke with him for the first time. It had taken my 'previous' boss thirty calls before finally being able to talk to the man about Jane and I, and I think the only reason he took it then was because we were badgering his secretary. Hey, whatever it took right? Harassment sometimes went a long way towards success. My conversation with the invisible Mr. Darcy and now mama's continuing moans finally did it. I snapped.

"You have a choice, mama. Go back to work and support this family yourself or deal with the fact that this is the only option at the moment and that the pay is spectacular. And you all will be going with me. It's a good thing this family has so much Italian blood on your side, mama. I'll be translating for Italian business men and women, help them understand the ropes in editing and journalism. It's a high position, and it pays well. Well enough that we can pull Mary, Kitty, and Lydia out of this horrible public school system here in the friggin' ghetto and place them in a nice public school in Great Britain. Somewhere in a middle class school. And we'll be staying at an estate provided by the company in the countryside. Mama, I'll be working with rich men and women—with people who could take us to incredible levels of success in this industry. Being bilingual really helps. Per favore (please), mama! " I reiterated as Mrs. Bennet stopped suddenly while still trying to pop the top off of her pills. I was beginning to think she was a better candidate for Ritulin than anti-depressants because when she wasn't sleeping, she was downright high-strung.

"Rich you say?" Mama asked as I deliberately rolled my eyes. Of course, she wouldn't get past the rolling 'r' word. It made her ears perk up like the tail of an animal in heat. I heard Jane laugh outright. I still hadn't decided how I felt about her yet, but strangely enough, we got along well—better than my own sisters and I most of the time. Great thing since we'd be working together.

"Very rich." Jane murmured helpfully as I looked over at my younger sisters who were, even now, wiggling in anticipation. Lydia and Kitty were giggling as they looked over at me with wide, similar eyes. The mischievous little twin devils.

"English boys! There will be English boys there!" They almost screeched as papa lowered his paper only long enough to look over at me with twinkling eyes as I sighed. What did they think would be in England? Puppets? Mary just took her glasses off for the third time in the same half hour and cleaned them again as if the glass couldn't get clear enough. I kept trying to get her to wear contacts, but she constantly continued to refuse.

"Ahh, England! The home of William Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Chaucer….oh and so many more brilliant writers, musicians, and artists." Mary whispered with haughty adoration as I sighed before looking over at her. She aspired to become entrenched in the world of fine arts, but she lacked dreadfully in understanding it.

"It is also the kingdom of Henry the Eighth, the bloody tower, and Jack the Ripper. Don't romanticize it, Mary. I wouldn't want you to be disappointed." I stated slowly as Jane grinned.

"Don't forget the gorgeous Prince William, Liz. He lives there too." Jane supplied as all of the girls squealed. I grunted as I clenched my teeth together before glaring over at Jane pointedly. At least mama had quieted down. That was a good sign, right?

"When do we leave?" Mama finally asked as she finally got the top off of her pills. Kudos for child proof tops. It gave her time to assimilate the situation before falling asleep again. I smiled widely. I couldn't help it. Maybe things were beginning to change for us. I loved my family. Really I did.

"I've already contacted the landlord and put in the notice a few days ago. I've also paid the last month's rents and utilities a month ahead of time. We leave in two days. It's fairly soon, but the position needs immediate fulfillment." I explained quickly as mama gasped at the rush. I just sighed in relief as Jane stood up and pulled me toward the door. It was time to let them all process the news while I got quickly out of the line of fire.

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England

That same day at the village of Meryton on Hertfordshire where a branch of Imperial Publishing is located…

Fitzwilliam Darcy's Point of View….

"Mr. Darcy?" A low uncertain voice asked quietly from the doorway as Will growled. He couldn't help it. This fiscal year had started out with less than an efficient beginning and he was worn and irritated. Coming near his office was like entering a cave housed by a fire-breathing dragon. Charles Bingley cocked an amused brow as Darcy narrowed his eyes at the door.

"What is it, Miss Lucas?" He asked in a strained tone as his secretary, Charlotte, made her way cautiously into the room before laying a folder gingerly on his desk.

"The file you asked for." She almost whispered before scurrying quickly back into the safety of the room beyond. Darcy didn't blame her. He looked down at the thin folder with disgust. Desperate times called for desperate measures he supposed.

"You could try for a little subtle charm, Darcy." Charles stated mildly as he casually reclined against the sofa placed against the side wall of the room. Darcy just 'hrrrpphhmmmed.'

"With an emphasis on the word subtle, Charles." Will muttered as Charles laughed. He was used to Darcy's crass behavior—had learned to deal with it since their introduction at Eton years ago as boys. Darcy's father had been the headmaster at the school then, a hard position for a young athletic boy to deal with. Not to mention that Darcy's grandfather was also the founder of a huge company that controlled a lot of England's journalism and design empires. Having become disgusted with the politics of the news world, he had used his prominent wealth to build his own empire despite his lack of educational knowledge. The business had succeeded though, even matched the famous papers and publishing companies that Great Britain was famous for. It even had a strong foothold at the BBC. And Fitzwilliam 'Will' Darcy had made his own changes upon inheriting the position after serving in the Royal Air Force. He had made the company international, allowing the company to expand across Europe and America. So far, it had exceeded Darcy's expectations. And now he was at a shortage for translators and editors.

"Still worried about the new translator?" Charles asked as Darcy began flipping through the folder on his desk. It wasn't that he was worried. He was just not happy about the choice he had made.

"She's not right for this leg of the company." Darcy insisted as he shook his head at the information in front of him. She was too damn young, probably too naïve, and definitely more than a little below the level of society usually hired by this particular branch. Their employees here mingled with high society on a daily basis. Charles shook his head.

"And Jane Houston is?" Charles asked as he stood up and began spinning a globe standing next to a tall spruced plant in the corner. The action irritated Darcy even more, but he didn't comment on it.

"Jane was a drama teacher with a specialty in design. I'm not looking for much more than an art degree for the position she's moving into. And Jane has family in these provinces that are prominent members of this society. How do you think she got that job at our company in the first place? Her mother may be American, but her father is worth millions. Do you even know how many times she has been fired and re-fired by Imperial. She may be flighty but she's good and knows the intricacies of high society when called upon to know it. But this other woman…" Darcy began as Charles shrugged.

"Isn't up to par, mate? Is that what you're saying? She doesn't have a bloody family crest is that it? Sometimes you are one hell of a selfish man, Will." Charles stated simply as he spinned the globe one last time before turning toward Will. Will sighed. It wasn't that she was American or that her heritage wasn't top notch….or maybe it was partly that. She was bilingual. Her voice rang through his head as he remembered their last phone conversation.

"If there's one thing I know, Mr. Darcy, it's English and Italian. I even speak Spanish. I won't let a narrowed view of my culture or my limited background color what I am capable of." She had stated with conviction as Darcy groaned at her independent streak. It didn't bode well that she already found a need to question his statements. He hadn't been intentionally rude to her.

"She's only twenty-three, Charles. She's been out of college only a year. She's too fresh. The possibility remains that she won't be able to handle our clientele which is why she's only temporary." Darcy replied as Charles' eyes widened in disbelief.

"Darcy, tell me you didn't." Charles exclaimed as Darcy shrugged. He had. Simple as that. He had. Charles sighed as Darcy rounded his desk and grabbed his coat. He had to tend to the business he owned to the best of his ability and that meant making difficult decisions. Miss Bennet was not his only priority. At the doorway, Charlotte Lucas listened silently before shaking her head gently and making her way quickly back to her desk before she was caught eavesdropping. What a hard-hearted man that Fitzwilliam Darcy was. The woman was bringing her family for God's sake. The bloody demon, he was. Charlotte was betting on the hope that Ms. Elizabeth Bennet would prove him wrong. It was time someone did.