Author's note: This story is in the process of being completely rewritten. I re-read it and hated a lot of parts so I went back and re-worked the entire story. It no longer switches perspective and I think it is easier to follow. Keep and eye out for updates to this story and eventually a re-working of the sequel, "Oh What Men Dare Do!". I am not British, I have no idea how they speak or live, or how the monarchy and nobility works, so please forgive any inaccuracies. I've done my best to be as accurate as possible. The Shakespeare lines (including the title) are from Sonnet 116, Sonnet 29, a Midsummer Night's Dream, and Hamlet.

The Course of Love: A Modern Retelling of Pride and Prejudice

Chapter 4

Darcy finally managed to shake Caroline and headed out towards the gardens. He ducked behind a shrub when he heard Elizabeth talking to her best friend Charlotte Lucas on the large porch.

"I saw you dancing with Lord Darcy." Charlotte said, "I daresay you'll like him, Lizzie. Did you know it was him?"

"Not until Caroline came over and looked at me like she wanted to vaporize me where I stood, no, I did not." Elizabeth replied, she hardly knew what to feel. "I've sworn to hate the man for goodness sake. I'm such a fool. Charlotte, he kissed me and I kissed him back."

"And why is this a bad thing?" Charlotte asked. "Looked like a hot kiss to me."

"I have a feeling my family is too objectionable people like him. He's so…rich." Elizabeth replied, she couldn't voice what she was feeling, because it wavered between undeniable attraction, hatred, pain and joy. Infuriating!

"Oh Lizzie…don't be such a snob!" Charlotte laughed.

Darcy hung back in the shadows at this, he was not one to eavesdrop, but his interest won over.

"Damn me and my curiosity." Elizabeth put her head in her hands. "I had to ask Wickham. I just had to!" The tears were close but she was fighting valiantly against them.

"Well, what'd he say?" Charlotte asked. "I mean, Wickham seemed like a nice man…but you barely know him. Who's word do you trust more?"

"Well, he said that Darcy withheld his inheritance from him, because of some silly thing, like he didn't want to go to a certain school or something, and then Darcy blacklisted him, so he can barely find work." Elizabeth explained. "And now I find myself attracted to the very man I can't stand! And you know I have other reasons for not liking him."

Darcy felt his blood boil. How could she believe a snake like Wickham over him! And what other reasons could she have? Certainly not his moment of stupidity in the club!

"Attracted? Lizzie, I think you've passed the 'attracted' line a long time ago. You know as well as I do that your reasons aren't reasons at all." Charlotte laughed. "You know what they say about the line between love and hate."

"Stop it." Elizabeth shook her head. "I…no…it just wouldn't work…well, maybe, if I didn't hate-dislike him. Though, when we were dancing, it felt as if we were the only two people in the room. And when he kissed me…I can't describe it Charlotte. Is there really such a fine line between the two? No. I feel I am harming Wickham by being nice to Darcy, but I don't know if Wickham was telling the truth. Oh, why is my life so screwed up?"

"Did you think to ask Darcy about it?" Charlotte asked, as if stating the obvious. Elizabeth really hated it when her all-too-perceptive friend did that.

"Char, we can't even be in the same room without arguing almost. I'm sure he would just brush me off." Elizabeth replied sadly.

"Elizabeth Rigby Bennet! You spent the last half hour in his company, and you know what, he knew who you were. I didn't see a single fight. The man is handsome, he's rich, and he's got a title for crying out loud. You seem to have a lot in common, considering you didn't plan to come as a couple. What more, exactly, are you looking for in a boyfriend? A crown?" Charlotte scolded her best friend. "The man asked you to dance before they even started the music. That wasn't a whim request. The poor man is in love with you."

Wait a minute! I've never said anything about love! Darcy thought, but turned his attention back to Charlotte, who continued berating her best friend.

"You are certainly falling for him, so maybe you should try this new thing, they're calling it communication."

While Darcy didn't appreciate anyone directing sarcasm at Elizabeth, this talk had been most informative. So Wickham had fed her a line of bull, that much was sure, but she had the good sense to be wary of it. And it gave him something to think about, why did Charlotte think he was in love with Elizabeth? He liked her, certainly, but was he in love yet?

No.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

Maybe. Darcy sighed, and pulled his mask up on his forehead. He had to act like he hadn't overhead them, so he walked quietly over to where she now stood alone at the railing, looking out at the gardens.

Darcy waited a moment and then walked over to Elizabeth. Lizzie gripped the railing of the porch, hearing footsteps behind her; she valiantly tried to control her tears.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked, laying a hand on her bare shoulder, which sent all sorts of sensations through his body, but he controlled them. "Elizabeth?"

The way he said her name and the feel of his hand on her shoulder felt so…right. But Lizzie was nothing if not stubborn, she was going to hold on to her hatred until he answered Wickham's accusations.

"It's nothing." She looked up, trying to smile, though a single tear escaped her eye.

"If it's important to you, it's important." Darcy said softly, lifting her chin up with his hand and, on a mad impulse, leaning in and kissing her tear away. Elizabeth blushed, but didn't pull back. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No…and…yes…" Elizabeth sighed, his touch driving away most of her anger but she needed answers. "You can't kiss all your misdeeds away."

"Misdeeds? One comment on a bad night and I'm forever on your hit list?" He asked, not wanting her to know of his eavesdropping. Somehow, that made her angrier. He really did not understand this incredibly complex woman.

Lizzie's fury returned with his callousness. "Oh, so you don't even see poor George Wickham's situation as a misdeed? Why didn't you tell me it was you and saved me all this anger?" She snapped angrily and tried to walk off. Remorse or rational explanation she could take, callous disregard she just couldn't handle.

"Wait! Can't we talk about this?" Darcy grabbed her arm gently, wondering how such a smart girl could jump to such conclusions. And Wickham! Would he never be free of the man? "Can I at least defend myself? Or is the opinion formed from stories to be your only opinion of me?"

"Fine." Elizabeth nodded; he deserved the right to defend himself. "Tell me, then, why did you withhold his inheritance and blackmail him?"

"Is that what he told you? I guess he would see it like that." He smiled sadly at her, anger giving way to understanding. "But don't believe a word of it. Wickham and I grew up together, and my father dearly loved Wickham. So, when he died, he provided for schooling for Wickham and a trust fund. It was written in his will that I be given control over the assets, and that Wickham was to have an education, however much it cost. After about a year of school, he decided he didn't want to continue, he just wanted to have his money and…I don't know. So, he came to me and said that he wanted his money. I told him he had his trust fund, but unless he was going to school, my father provided no other payment for him. I knew Wickham was no good, but I gave him a considerable sum of money to go along with his trust fund and told him to take it with gratitude. Instead, he gambled it away and…"

Elizabeth waited expectantly. "And what?"

"The rest…can you keep this an absolute secret? I mean, this cannot go beyond yourself and Jane though I'd prefer it if she didn't know all the particulars." Darcy looked at her, his eyes searching for a reason to trust her.

"Yes." She nodded, and prepped herself for something terrible.

"When my sister was 15, he convinced her to run away with him, on the pretext of them getting married. Instead, he tried to rape her and would have succeeded, but I showed up. In order to keep my sister's name from being tarnished, because nothing happened, but he would claim it did, I paid Wickham off." Darcy said ran his hand over his eyes, praying that telling this woman would not come back to bite him in the ass. "She's never been the same…it took her months to be able to even hug me again."

Whatever she had thought, this hadn't been it. No one would make up a story about someone trying to rape his or her little sister, and Lizzie knew Darcy was honest. Sometimes he was honest to the point of being rude, but he wasn't a liar. Elizabeth took his hands in hers. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" He asked, completely surprised, not only at her actions, but also at her apology.

"I…I have hated you for so long, and the reasons are so silly…I never should have believed that man, I mean, who tells that to a complete stranger?" Lizzie smiled ruefully at her own stubborn anger.

"Wickham has more charm than the devil himself, he can fool anybody. I should have said something to you immediately after that day, but…I admit I tried to quash my feelings." Darcy touched her cheek gently. "Though why I will never know, because you are far more beautiful and…delightful than anyone I've ever met. My feelings for you far outweigh my doubts about you."

Doubts? There was that honest to the point of being rude. Elizabeth stood away from him and raised her eyebrow quizzically. "What kind of doubts?"

"The fact that your family isn't that well-off, and they seem to be almost mercenaries, your family in general can not be taken out in public due to their lack of manners. I just have to watch out for gold diggers and women who just want to have my baby so they can demand money from me." Darcy explained, reaching for her again, but she pulled away.

"You have these doubts now?" Elizabeth asked, glaring at him, her anger returning.

"Do you want me to be happy about the fact that your mother is rude and loud? Or that your two youngest sisters can almost qualify as insipid? Your father is at times foolish, and the other sister dull? Your family, except you and Jane, are completely out of the status of polite society I am used to?" He was angry now. She was a tease and his control on his feelings - now a tumultuous mix of attraction, anger, passion and lingering bits of jealousy - was slipping.

Lizzie was incensed. Her family wasn't always the most appropriately behaved family, but they were her family. What could they possibly have to do with what was happening between the two of them? Proud, arrogant, insufferable man! "Why would you say something like that? You come here, acting kind, sensitive and caring, then, once you have me trusting you, you chose to tell me you liked me against your better judgment? Just when I think you are done with all the pride and arrogance, it comes roaring back. And you are supposed to be a gentleman? Hah! Good evening, your Lordship." Elizabeth said curtly and walked off, unwilling to let him see her cry.

"Damn!" He exclaimed, throwing his mask to the ground. "Not a gentleman?"

Finally, the wave of emotions hit Darcy and he sunk against the railing, fighting tears. Tears! Good God what had this woman done to him? He snuck upstairs to his room, not wanting to see Charles or Jane and especially not Caroline. Darcy paced around his room for a while, then opened his laptop to do something, anything, but think about Lizzie and his email popped open with the latest email from Rick.

From: colfitzwilliam

To:

Will-

I know I talked to you about this, but let me make it clear because you are stubborn when it comes to advice sometimes. Any woman who has gotten your interest and who will tease you mercilessly is worth hanging on to. Because she's probably real, and in our circle, real is the hardest thing to find and the most precious. Don't think so? Just look at Bingley's sister.

Good luck, Cuz.

-Rick

That warning hit Darcy like a ton of bricks. He paced, he changed clothes, and paced. He thought and was furious at her. His anger was gradually cooling, however, and soon it was cool enough to allow for some self-reflection. All he had done was tell her why he had resisted his feelings for her.

"Idiot!" Darcy exclaimed, realization dawning on him.

"Darce?" Charles asked, knocking.

Darcy looked at the clock; it was just after 3 in the morning. But he was awake and he was assuming the party downstairs had only just wrapped up.

"Come in, Charles." Darcy sighed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Charles asked, walking in, still in costume.

"Not really, no." Darcy replied. "My own stupidity has lost me the woman of my dreams."

"Not yet. It will if you don't do something about it." Charles sighed. "Jane and Lizzie went home early, you know. I got my midnight kiss and then Jane was gone."

"Charles, I'm sorry." Darcy shook his head. "It seems selfishness is my thing today."

"Look, we've been friends for a long time and I've never seen you tied in so many knots over a girl. And I know you get this thing in your head about marrying below your station in life, but really man? The Prince is marrying someone below his rank, so you are certainly allowed to date someone like that." Charles sighed. "And you still have a chance at her, but you have to swallow your pride and do something about it."

"Charles, you're right." Darcy nodded. "About everything. I…I…love her. I can't believe it."

"Believe it, my friend. And count yourself lucky that the woman you love is gracious enough to give you a second chance if you behave better. Otherwise, you don't deserve her."

He nodded. Lizzie was the first woman to ever demand that he deserve her, instead of the other way around. Darcy had fallen so short of the mark it was laughable. Not only last night, but all the other times he'd interacted with her. No wonder she bought Wickham's nonsense, Darcy was acting just like Wickham portrayed him. But how to solve this mess he found himself in? Lizzie certainly wouldn't see him. Not now. Despite all her remonstrations of his pride, she had enough of her own to refuse to see or speak to him again.

What could he do to convey how sorry he was when she wouldn't speak to him? Email and text seemed too...impersonal. But a letter, now that idea had merit. Darcy fell into bed around five, more than a dozen balled up bits of paper in the fire, and one letter sealed up and ready to go. He would deliver it personally, on his way to London, just in case Lizzie would see him. Darcy learned from Charles that Lizzie was staying with her sister, so he did not have to face all the Bennets at Longbourn. Jane was another matter. She was usually all that was kindness and sweetness, but he knew the sisters were fiercely protective of each other.

"Will Darcy, you are an idiot." Jane sighed, letting him in. "I'll not let you see her. It is only because Charles asked that I hear you out that you are even allowed inside."

The look on Jane's face was something Darcy never thought he'd see. She was glaring at him.

"I cannot begin to apologize for my behavior. It was...I was not the gentleman I was raised to be. My only excuse is that Lizzie ties me up in such knots I can't think straight when I am around her. I've never been a particularly eloquent speaker, but I needed to apologize, to explain, and to beg forgiveness. Would you please, please give the letter to your sister? You can even read it first." Darcy held out the envelope but the eldest Bennet made no move to take it from him.

"Jane, I had no right to bring your family into something that was between the two of us. I am stupid, prideful, and completely ashamed of myself. I know I do not deserve your sister, but I care for her. More than I should. I cannot allow my own stupidity to drive away the most perfect woman in the world, I have to try everything in my power to win her back and I intend to do so."

Jane softened a little at this declaration, and took the letter from him. "I'll make sure she reads it."

Darcy nodded his thanks and quickly left. He meant to be in London the next day, he couldn't stand to be so close to her and not be with her. He'd return on February 1st, he'd given her an ultimatum of sorts, to meet him in the library if she forgave him and wanted to start a relationship with him – any sort of relationship with him. Though that was a whole month away, he needed time and so did she. Time and separation. Darcy just clung to the hope that the old saying was true - "absence makes the heart grow fonder".

"Lizzie?" Jane asked softly knocking on her sister's door. "Lizzie, may I come in?"

"Yes." Lizzie sighed. "Is he gone?"

"Yes." Jane sat on the bed next to her sister, who was curled up in a ball under the covers. "He left you a letter."

"He could leave a thousand letters, I don't care." Lizzie grumbled stubbornly. "I'm not in the mood for his Lordship."

"Lizzie, I wish you would read it." Jane said softly. "For me."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and took the letter. Strange that he should write a letter, not call, email, or visit. She opened it up and read.

My Dearest Lizzie,

I can start with nothing but an apology. You were right, I haven't been a gentleman, I have missed every chance to be the man I was raised to be and I can only thank you for pointing out my unpardonable behavior. I cannot blame you for believing George Wickham's lies, not only is he skilled in telling them, but I behaved exactly as he painted me. I am too proud, I am arrogant, and I am an idiot.

"Right you are there, Mr. Darcy." Lizzie said to no one, as Jane had left her to read the letter in peace.

I will now admit, with some shame, that you are the first woman to ever reject me and I handled it badly to say the least. Let me thank you for rejecting me, because it caused some much-needed self-reflection. I have long since prided myself on being very rational, and I am well aware that I am considered a "catch" by almost every woman I've met. So had no doubt you would accept me no matter what I said.

"Insufferable man!" Lizzie threw the letter down in frustration. He was not off to a good start. A few minutes later, she picked it up again, curiosity getting the better of her.

I cannot condone my actions, and I cannot think on them without disgust. I have come to realize, dearest Elizabeth, that I do not deserve you. I do not deserve your wit, your sweetness or your smile. I know all this, and yet I know the only place I can be truly happy is at your side. I am going to London for my sister and to take care of some family business. I will be back in the Netherfield library February 1st at 10 in the morning. I beg you to meet me there if you have found it in your heart to even consider forgiving me. Your presence doesn't have to mean anything, just that there is still hope that one day, you might allow me to enjoy the pleasure of your company.

I will be the gentleman you deserve, and that is a promise no matter what you decide. You should know, however, that I am completely, totally, one hundred percent yours. I care for you more than I have ever cared for any woman I've known. I am haunted by the kiss we shared at Netherfield and the brief moments where your eyes I admire so much were shining with happiness at me. I truly hope I have not ended any chance we have by my own stupidity, but if I have, I deserve my fate. You are a singular woman, Elizabeth Bennet, and whomever you end up with will be a lucky man indeed.

I only ask again for your forgiveness for the things I said. I had no right to bring your family into something that is between you and I. My censure of them was unpardonable. Until the 1st, I can only hope that this letter can convey the depths of my shame and my feelings for you. Until then, I hope that you remain well.

Irrevocably yours,

Will Darcy

Lizzie gasped. She was in shock. The letter had infuriated her in the beginning, and by the end she was in tears at the self-censure of this wonderful man and the feelings he expressed so beautifully. She needed her sister. "Jane!"

Jane rushed into the room to see Lizzie sitting on the bed, sobbing and clutching Mr. Darcy's letter.

"Oh Lizzie." Jane smiled, tears in her own eyes, and hugged her sister. "Are you going to meet him? I read it first, with his permission, because I didn't want him to hurt you any more, but it was ever so beautiful! I can't even be mad at him anymore, that closing was...so romantic."

"'Irrevocably yours'." Lizzie sighed. All she could think about was that kiss, and the way his curls framed his face so beautifully. "Janie...what do I do?"

"That decision is yours alone, dearest. I will only say that to write a letter takes more effort than modern communication, and to put such self-reproach in writing only serves to do him credit."

"It does." Lizzie looked at the letter again. "It certainly does."