Thank you everyone for the kind comments, and to those who pointed out some of my oversights, I was dubious about even uploading this story so I suppose that I was in such a hurry to do it before I changed my mind that I missed some glaringly obvious errors. I will attempt to do better in future. Some people were confused by Georgiana's reaction to Elizabeth and her manner towards her… I wanted to create the image that Georgiana was aware of Darcy's feelings for Elizabeth through his correspondence with her and that she was making a conscious effort in the absence of Darcy to be a confident hostess to the woman that she believed would be the future mistress of Pemberley. That may not have come across quite as I hope it would.

Darcy breathed in the Irish air, the smell of salt and wet grass permeated his senses and he closed his eyes letting the cool breeze wash over him. Ireland was greener than any land he had set eyes on before, and the breeze cooler. He welcomed the change of scenery, his mind screamed for it, an escape from England and all of the troubles that his life held.

As the carriage that he had dismounted pulled away towards the stables, a tall and well built gentleman descended the steps from the grand house. 'Darcy.. you're a full hour early, we did not expect you until luncheon'. On reaching Darcy the two men shook hands. 'I am sorry I was not here to greet you on arrival.'

'Do not trouble yourself De Vere, the ship arrived ahead of schedule and it was an easy journey thereafter. I am simply glad to be back on solid ground.'

'Well it has been too long, I am glad that you have finally made your way across the water to visit Marwood House, come let us get you indoors and you can freshen up. The ladies are excited to see you again.'

Darcy made his way up the steps with Mr De Vere slower than he might have normally made the journey. De Vere was a handsome man, twelve years older than Darcy with dark curled hair and a smattering of greys. His chin was covered by a well groomed beard and the cut of his clothes showed him to be a very fashionable gentleman indeed. Darcy and De Vere had met at Cambridge, and had formed a close bond, but being older than Darcy, De Vere had left University and returned to his father's estate in Ireland. Though not of Irish descent, the old Mr De Vere had fallen in love with an Irish woman following the death of his own wife and taken an estate there to be with her. Mr De Vere had thus been taken to Ireland when he was a lad and like his father, fallen in love with an Irish woman and never left again.

De Vere arranged for his housekeeper to show Mr Darcy to his rooms, and both men agreed to meet in the study in an hour for Brandy before meeting up with the ladies.

De Vere was waiting for Darcy when he entered the study, a brandy on the sideboard ready for his guest.

'So how are things in England Darcy? You've not been ensnared by any of the mamas for their beautiful daughters have you?'

'Fortunately not' Darcy replied dryly, he took up his glass and stalked to the fireplace. 'Though I am not getting any younger Frederick, it is time that I start to accept my fate.'

'Nonsense, there is a woman out there worthy of your hand and you have time yet to find her.'

Darcy stared into the flames and took a long drink from his glass. 'If only that were true, time is the one thing I do not have.'

De Vere frowned in confusion. 'What do you mean?'

Darcy turned to him forcing a smile 'Pray ignore me, too many days on the sea… shall we join the ladies?'

De Vere groaned 'I was hoping that we might have delayed their fawning for a little longer but if you insist, I suppose that we must.'

'Fawning! Come old man, your wife has eyes only for you and your daughter, well she was no more than a scrawny child when I last laid eyes on her.'

De Vere clapped a hand on Darcy's back, missing the younger man's wince and guided him to the door before whispering into his ear 'That's the problem with daughters Darcy, they do not remain little girls for long enough'.

Darcy chuckled as they made their way out of the study and towards the drawing room. When the entered the room, both women were busy with screens, which were immediately forgotten as they rushed to greet the gentlemen.

'Mr Darcy! What an honour to have you here with us. It has been too long.'

Mr Darcy bowed over Mrs De Vere's hand. 'Indeed it has madam, I apologise because the fault has been all mine, too much work and not enough pleasure.' Mrs De Vere was a beautiful woman, pale skinned with thick black hair and emerald green eyes, an Irish beauty through and through. Mr Darcy straightened and looked to the younger woman standing beside her mother. Miss De Vere was indeed no longer the scrawny and awkward teenager that he had encountered so long ago. In fact there was no doubt at all that she had turned into a full grown woman, around the same age as Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He cursed himself inwardly for the comparison. Taking her hand he pressed it lightly. 'Miss De Vere, you are certainly much taller than I remember.'

She giggled and withdrew her hand lightly. 'It has been more than 7 years now has it not Mr Darcy? Surely you would expect some change?'

'Indeed.' He looked at Miss De Vere in appreciation for a moment, she was everything as beautiful as her mother but with an innocence of youth.

'Shall we sit?' Mrs De Vere gestured to the settees and rang the bell for tea as she swept her skirt under her and seated herself next to her husband. Mr Darcy was left to sit next to Miss De Vere.

'How long do you plan to stay in the country Mr Darcy?' Miss De Vere questioned whilst returning her attention to her screen.

'Not long Miss De Vere, this is a short visit. I intend to return in a week. My sister expects my arrival at Pemberley shortly and I do not wish for her to remain there alone.'

'Oh, we shall be sad to lose you so quickly. It has been some time since we last had visitors.'

Mr Darcy looked to her father 'Perhaps if your father would take the trouble to cross the sea and bring you all to England you would be better entertained. Your father still has many friends, and he pays them not nearly enough attention.'

Mr De Vere smiled 'Come now Darcy, you would not have us exposed to the Ton yearly would you? I am not sure that my sensibilities could survive it. Though there are many sensible and interesting people to be met, there are also just as many simpletons. My true friends know that they are welcome to visit me here whenever they wish it, and we make the trip to England whenever an invitation is extended….and only when that invitation promises to be away from Town.'

Darcy shook his head.

Mrs De Vere poured herself a cup of tea from the tray that had been brought into the room. 'Tell me Mr Darcy, how is your sister. She was a young girl when I last saw her.'

Darcy paused contemplating how he might answer without being completely unfaithful to the truth 'Georgiana is well, she masters her music lessons with passion, though she is somewhat reticent in the company of strangers..'

'Must take after you then Darcy' Mr De Vere cut in. Darcy dipped his head to acknowledge the honesty in Mr De Vere's statement.

'Perhaps she needs a friend closer to her in age?' Mrs De Vere smiled over her cup, obviously hinting at her daughter becoming a friend to Georgiana, but it was not Miss De Vere that Darcy's mind conjured an image of. 'Abigail, would be a good influence, she is older than your sister, but not too much older that she cannot relate to her. Every woman longs for a sister Mr Darcy.'

Miss De Vere blushed very prettily at her mother's insinuation and lowered her eyes. Mr Darcy could not help but reflect on the pretty picture that she made. Indeed she had blossomed into a very beautiful young woman. His heart still ached for the woman who had rejected him in Kent, but time was against him now and he could no longer wait for his heart to be engaged. Mr Darcy was in want of a wife.

'Yes, perhaps you are right Mrs De Vere.' From the corner of his eye, Darcy could see Miss De Vere's blush deepen as she applied herself to the screen in front of her.

At dinner, Darcy found himself seated next to Miss De Vere, she was a pleasant enough sort of girl, but she showed little interest in books or nature, rather her interests seemed to be in arts and fashion. Though intelligent, Darcy found little enjoyment in their discussions, Miss De Vere appeared to defer to his every opinion and occasionally her penchant for agreeing with him reminded him of Miss Bingley. He found himself wishing that she would completely disagree with his opinion on the masters, or suddenly remember a book that she had recently read which was not a novella, each time he would scold himself for wishing her to be someone other than herself.

He often felt Mrs De Vere's eyes on him, watching his interactions with her daughter. He could understand it in a way, Fitzwilliam Darcy was considered a very eligible bachelor, and the De Vere's had but one child, it was natural that they would want to see her well settled. De Vere was a good friend, Miss De Vere was a respectable woman.. perhaps she was the type of woman that he could grow to admire. He believed that his family would favour the match, obviously once his Aunt had gotten over her disappointment regarding Anne. But could Fitzwilliam Darcy be happy with a pretty wife, who agreed with his every opinion, who deferred to his every preference? He wished that he knew.

Suddenly Darcy realised that the party were watching him, most likely expecting an answer to some question and he had not attended the conversation at all. Embarrassed he excused himself, he was quite suddenly feeling fatigued.

De Vere stood up, concern on his face 'Are you quite alright old man? You look peakish.'

Darcy forced a smile and held up a hand, dispensing his napkin on the table. 'Pray excuse me, I feel suddenly tired. I suppose that the past days of sea travel have caught up with me. I shall be fine after some rest. I must apologise…'

'Mr Darcy, please. You are our guest. We will not be offended because you choose to retire early. We only hope that you feel better in the morning.' Mrs De Vere smiled reassuringly.

'I thank you, for your hospitality and kindness.' Darcy started to move from the table but turned back quickly. 'Goodnight Mr De Vere, Mrs De Vere..' he turned to Miss De Vere and smiled as warmly as he could manage 'Miss De Vere.'

The young woman's face lit up and she smiled warmly at him, and when he retreated from the room her mother who gave her a meaningful look. 'I think that he admires you Abigail'.

Mr De Vere sat down and returned to his plate. 'Now ladies, give the poor man a chance… he is barely set foot inside our home and you are already planning his nuptials. If Darcy has taken an interest in Abigail, let him be, he will make himself known…. If indeed anything is to be known.'

Miss De Vere placed her hands in her lap and cast her eyes down like a scolded child. Mrs De Vere however could not help but smirk, she had a feeling that things would be looking up for her daughter very soon.

In his room, Darcy loosened his cravat and kicked off his boots. His temples throbbed and his body felt tired and weakened. He leaned over the bureau and stared at himself in the mirror above it. His face was pale, forehead beaded with sweat and dark rings beneath his eyes had started to show. He walked to the cabinet and poured himself a glass of water, hands shaking as he lifted the glass to his mouth. Discarding it he flopped unceremoniously onto the bed and threw an arm over his eyes, his breathing deep and shaky.

His man entered the room and started to pick the discarded items of clothing from the floor, noticing his master and the pallor of his skin he walked to the edge of the bed.

'Shall I send for the Doctor Sir?' He held the boots folded over his arm as he watched Mr Darcy lying on the bed.

'No Jenkins, it is just another episode. I shall be fine. You may retire.' Jenkins watched his master for another moment before backing out of the room.

'Very good Sir.'

Darcy heard the door click shut as Jenkins exited. He removed his arm from his face and stared at the canopy of the four poster bed. The room was spinning, and though he had not over imbibed he felt as though he was in his cups. He groaned and closed his eyes. His thoughts returning to Miss De Vere, could he seriously contemplate courting her? He had a full week here to see if there was any attraction, if he could be reasonably happy with her. Did that even matter, happiness? He had attempted to make a love match once before only to be bitterly disappointed. His thoughts turned to that day in Kent, Elizabeth, her eyes blazing, chin upturned in defiance as she rounded off his faults, as she rejected him. Despite the anger, despite the pain that she had inflicted, the picture that she painted was undeniably beautiful. He knew that he could have made her happy, he was certain of it, if only she had accepted. Perhaps, given circumstances, things were better this way. His mind was torn, marrying for love was beyond his reach now, he needed an heir more than ever and he had little time to achieve that task. He sighed in resignation, it was decided, he would attempt to woo Miss De Vere, though from her reactions to him today and this evening, it would take very little effort on his part.

He resigned himself, this was his fate. He had been a bachelor for far too long, avoiding the Ton, and perhaps to his current disadvantage. In the unlikely event that Miss De Vere would not accept his suit, there was always Caroline Bingley… he chuckled despite himself. At least he still had his humour.

As he began to drift off to sleep, neither Miss De Vere, nor Miss Bingley were the lady that occupied his mind. As always, Mr Darcy drifted off to sleep dreaming of that fateful day in Kent where the mistress of his heart gave a very different answer to his question.

The following days at Marwood House were pleasant and refreshing. Though not comfortable in the company of strangers, Darcy had a good relationship with De Vere and was attempting his best to rectify the faults laid down by Miss Elizabeth Bennet, he was practicing. That practice it would appear was paying off, Miss De Vere appeared to enjoy his company very much and would often find reasons to engage him in conversation. They had taken to strolling the gardens daily and Darcy would point out and name the flowers that they encountered or the wildlife around the park. Miss De Vere, though interested and seemingly happy to be in his company, could not fake interest, though he hoped that a love of nature was perhaps something that might develop over time. On the day of his departure, whilst breaking their fast, Darcy extended an invitation to the De Veres to visit Pemberley. The ladies were overtly enthusiastic and De Vere had rolled his eyes, causing Darcy to grin.

'Well Darcy, I daresay you have gone and done it now, this is all I shall hear of for the next month.'

'Come now De Vere, did you not state just this week that you would happily accept an invitation so long as it did not involve going to Town? I have simply called you out on that…' Darcy returned his attention to his eggs. 'Besides, I am taking your wife's advice… Perhaps Miss De Vere and my sister could keep one another company.'

Mrs De Vere smiled slyly 'Now Mr Darcy, do not put the blame on me. I shall never hear the end of it.'

Mr Darcy began to laugh, but the laugh soon turned to sputtering followed by an incessant cough which took his breath away.

Miss De Vere stood form the table and reached a hand out to him 'Can I get you a water Mr Darcy? Are you quite alright Sir?'

He waved her hand away, his frame wracked by the coughs and stood clumsily from the table, Mr and Mrs De Vere's concern was written plainly on their features.

'Excuse me.' He just about managed to mumble coherently enough in between coughs as he made his way out of the breakfasting room. The De Vere's all shared a worried glance as Darcy's coughing could be heard all the way to the main hall.

Mrs De Vere touched her husband's arm. 'Does Mr Darcy keep in poor health?'

'No of course not, the man is strong as an Ox.'

Miss De Vere chewed on her bottom lip 'He does often excuse himself from company Papa, this is not the first fit that we have witnessed during his stay…. A few days ago in the garden..'

'Abigail!' She was cut off by her father as he rose from his seat 'Can a man not have a cold without everyone speculating that he is on his death bed… I will attend him and ensure that he is recovered.' With that he stalked out of the room to find his friend. He too had noticed that Darcy excused himself early in the evenings due to fatigue, he too had noticed the dark rings forming under his old friend's eyes… it was a trifling matter he was sure. He would not allow his family to embarrass Darcy with nonsensical questions.

On reaching Darcy's chamber he knocked lightly on the door. 'Darcy, it is me…are you quite alright old man?'

The door opened and Jenkins stepped aside to allow Mr De Vere into the room. Mr Darcy was sat at the bureau, his cravat loosened and hair unruly. He gave De Vere a sheepish smile. 'I am fine Frederick, I believe that I almost swallowed my tongue…' the line was said in jest and De Vere looked at him with worry in his brown eyes.

'Do you think perhaps that you should delay your return to England, until you are in better health?'

'Nonsense. I am perfectly well Frederick. Besides, Georgiana expects me home and I cannot leave her longer.' He looked at De Vere with a serious expression. 'I am fine.. I simply need to go home and take some time to recover.'

De Vere looked sceptical but nodded in acquiescence. 'As you wish… The carriage is due, I'll arrange for a man to take your belongings downstairs.'

Darcy bowed his head 'I thank you'.

Darcy had bid his adieus to the De Veres, the agreement that they would visit in one month still standing. Before he had left, he had bowed over Miss De Vere's hand, again eliciting a very pretty blush. As the carriage had trundled away from Marwood House, he had wondered how many suitors Miss De Vere would have attracted had she been allowed a season in Town. A great many he supposed. His thoughts travelled across the sea to his sister, he wondered what kind of influence Miss De Vere would have on Georgiana, would their different interests complement each other, or would they find themselves with nothing to discuss. What kind of sister would Miss De Vere make for Georgiana, would they even get on? Feeling suddenly tired again, Darcy closed his eyes and relaxed against the velvet cushions of the carriage, these were all questions that could wait for another day, right now he required rest and a speedy return to Pemberley.