To address some questions—Herbert is 9; Northberry Park was obtained not only through the additional funds that Sarah brought to the family, but also with the addition of her money-sense; and the Bingleys will show up eventually, though it'd be a bit hard to squeeze them in at the moment.

Chapter Three: First Impressions

An exhausted Mr. Darcy and Miss Georgiana lingered in the drawing-room after Mrs. Darcy had complained of being taken ill, and required her daughter's assistance. No one was truly concerned; as all were knowledgeable that her illnesses were more fanciful than anything. The sun had long disappeared beneath the western horizon, so that the room was only lit by a fire in the hearth, a candle on the end table, and pale, glimmering moonlight shining through the window. Brother and sister shared a mutual silence, but not an unpleasant one; they both reflected, both thought of the evening: but more than that evening, they thought of Ramsgate, and Mr. Wickham. Mr. Wickham! What an unspeakably despicable man! Mr. Darcy frowned as he studied his dear sister, who seemed slighter than ever; she appeared to be reading a book, but could tell that her gaze drifted right through the page, and into the melancholy blankness of her mind. He had thought that this visit to Leicestershire would raise her spirits; but it seemed that it was more of a burden than anything on her nerves. With a sigh, he stood from his seat and drifted over to his sister, placing an affectionate kiss on her cheek before joining her on the sofa.

"Brother," said Georgiana, closing her leather-bound book, "do not think that I am unhappy because of all of these strange people. Indeed, they are distracting me; it is better than being at home. At home I would only have my guilt to wallow in."

Georgiana in her infinite wisdom! Even when her spirits sunk low, she had a powerful intuition; unless she was only very lucky in bringing up subjects of which Mr. Darcy had just been thinking. It was a little disconcerting at times, as he wondered if his emotions were displayed so indiscreetly; but then he recalled his mother counseling him in almost exactly the same way when he was a boy: and he could find comfort, rather than fear.

"It is not your fault, my dear," he replied in a gentle voice.

Georgiana was silent; and, clearly not willing to debate the subject for the hundredth time, began a new one.

"I like Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I think that she was the only one who willingly talked to me through the evening. Not that I am sorry for it; I do deserve it! But she did have me thinking of other things, till I almost forgot my situation. Do you like her, Brother? I saw you dancing with her. I hope that you will like her."

"I have not met anybody quite like her. She did seem very ordinary at first; but seemed the only lady in the room more interested in you than me."

"But do you like her? Please say you do. I am glad that we are having tea with her to-morrow; she is such a nice distraction."

"If she makes you happy, my love, then I like her. But it is hard to like someone of whom Miss Amelia seems to speak so much of!"

Mr. Darcy's companion hesitated before replying, with a pensive expression on her face, as if she were thinking of precisely the right thing to say. She wrapped the silk bookmark which had fallen out of her book round her finger, though trembling slightly, as if it were a nervous habit.

"Do you suppose I can be friends with her? She is such good friends with Amelia—it is no wonder that she speaks so highly of her. But do you really think that Miss Elizabeth does not like you?"

Mr. Darcy shrugged, supposing that he ought not to care too much to obtain the good opinion of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Perhaps the Bennets were one of the predominant families in Wearham; but was that much of a claim to fame? She was a country nobody, really; and if Georgiana befriended her, he was all the merrier; but he did not quite see why he ought to like her himself. She was not extraordinarily beautiful, nor did she seem extraordinarily accomplished. She had said herself that her playing was "horrible"! In fact, he wondered why he was contemplating her at all! Certainly nobody he would ever see again, once their stay in Leicestershire ended.

"And how did you like Miss Morgan? To be sure, she was the handsomest woman in the room, though she did not speak to me beyond our brief introduction," said Georgiana.

"Ah; but how could I like anybody who took no notice of you, my dear sister?"

"Well, you are hard to please! Miss Bennet is too strange, and Miss Morgan is too negligent of me! Was there anybody who did meet your satisfaction?"

"I did not say that Miss Bennet was strange."

"Perhaps those were not your words, but that is what you said."

"Peculiarity is not necessarily bad, love."

"But not necessarily good, either," returned Georgiana with a raised brow. Mr. Darcy merely laughed, and kissed his sister on the forehead, saying that she was over-thinking these things and that they had better both get to bed. Georgiana admitted that she was tired; and, thus, they both retired to their chambers, surrendering themselves to that greatest of comforts: sleep.

Elizabeth lay in bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, her blankets surrounding her. Her mind was numb, her senses numb; yet sleep still evaded her. What was it that silently gnawed away at her, and gave her such an eerie feeling of nothingness? The source of this feeling, however, she never discovered, for the feeling immediately disappeared upon Jane's entrance into her chamber. She wasn't sure if this relieved her or vexed her; she could not decide if peculiarity was bad because it was so far from normality, or if it was good because it was so far from normality. Elizabeth immediately sat up, examining the candle Jane held before her and that dimly illuminated her fatigued features, till she set it down, devouring herself in the darkness of the room.

"Did I wake you, Lizzy? I did not think you would be asleep yet," said Jane tenderly.

"Oh! No," returned Elizabeth, "I was not asleep. I was only thinking; but what about, I'm not entirely sure."

"You were probably thinking about the assembly," suggested Jane quite logically. "I wonder at Miss Georgiana; I think that you were right in your supposing something to be the matter with her, poor thing! because you saw her last summer, and she was quite different, was she not? I very much would have liked to talk to her; but I feared that I would do more harm than good."

"She was quite different last summer, from what I remember. I cannot help but think there is some queer business with these relations of Amelia's; it is very suspicious for her to flee from Ramsgate so abruptly: and if there was something pressing, why not go home or to Town, where such business is typically settled? Why come to Leicestershire, to see those whom you have no particular regard for?"

"But there may be a perfectly innocent explanation for it. You mustn't allow yourself to get carried away with your fancying something strange about them. Perhaps you should begin an investigation with your partner in crime, Kitty; and then you may discover the truth. It may not be so shocking as you believe."

"It may not be so innocent as you believe! It was all Kitty's scheme to distract Mr. Newbury; but I can't say it was so very grand a plan, either. Instead I had to entertain Mr. Darcy; and it was more of a chore than a pleasure to do that."

"You do not like Mr. Darcy, then?" said Jane sadly, as if Mr. Darcy were her own cousin, rather than Amelia's. Elizabeth hesitated before answering, as she pondered whether he did make a favorable impression upon her.

"I have never met anybody quite like him. At times I thought that he was very dull; and at others, he seemed to be entirely charming; and at others, a little bit insulting. I cannot make him out. His sister is not as hard to read; she is clearly very shy, and very troubled. The only mystery surrounding her is what her troubles are.—But do I like her? Yes, I suppose I do. I pity her, perhaps, more than anything; but despite her reserves, I can see that she has a good heart, and is a sweet girl. But he! What an enigma!"

"I did not think he was so enigmatic," responded Jane, in that same tone of defensiveness she had used when arguing in Mr. Newbury's favor, like a lioness protecting her young. "He is excessively fond of his sister, and certainly a very good brother. Perhaps he does not know how to behave around strange people; it would not be an uncommon failing. I think he is one of those men whom you cannot judge upon only one meeting; your understanding of his character deepens over time—which is preferable to a shallow, one-dimensional character."

"You are probably right, Jane. At least men such as he are more interesting to observe, if nothing else. I will certainly understand him better when I see if he is impressed by Northberry. If he isn't, I will declare that he is helplessly jaded! But I cannot think why I have wondered about him so much; he will leave in a few weeks, and I dare say we shall never meet again. My life cannot orbit about a slight acquaintance."

"Oh Lizzy, you are so proud of Northberry."

"And why should I not be?"

Jane took her sister's hand and kissed her forehead, with a strangely altered mood, to which Elizabeth could not at all account for. Jane, with her affection gaze set upon Elizabeth that was in its way both sisterly and motherly, explained,

"It is just that you should take care; that is all."

"Am I in danger of something?"

"Sometimes one finds danger and unhappiness in the last place they expect it to be lurking. Just be aware of this, and you will be fine. It is not good to judge; but it is not safe to have blind faith. Speak of what you do know; speculate quietly on what you do not; and when you do discover the truth, then and only then you may tell the world your findings. Behind the ugliest curtain there may be the most beautiful view."

"Jane! From where has this speech originated?"

"From nothing specific; I speak only on general principles. Now, good-night, my dear Lizzy; and I hope that whatever has occupied your thoughts will subside, and your mind will be at ease."

And so Jane again held her candle, a flickering light floating in the inky darkness, and was gone. It was only Elizabeth and the darkness once again. It did not prove to be a very good companion; it offered no advice, and gave no answers. She did not understand what had prompted Jane's words; was it significant, or only a random musing of her elder sister's mind? But she could no more predict the future than reason with the darkness; so, satisfying herself with that thought, she slowly slipped into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.