Chapter 3: An Unexpected Visitor

Despite his exhaustion, Darcy lay awake in bed that night in a state of agitation. His mind was constantly running through the events of the day, particularly those including Elizabeth Bennet and her fine eyes. Rolling over once more, he sighed, resigned that he should not find sleep tonight and arose from the bed in search of his breeches and a white linen shirt. Grabbing his katana before exiting his room, he made his way to the spacious gardens behind Netherfield and began running through a series of training techniques and exercises in the dark, trying to clear his head. Many nights had he spent mentally and physically preparing himself for the day he would finally be able to avenge his family, specifically his sister. Bringing the memories of the incident to mind, Darcy mentally moved to a Zen-like state using his anger as fuel, his motions becoming fluid and automatic.

He had not even mentioned the events that had transpired to Bingley. Until that event, Darcy had been the picture of pleasantry, being of merry disposition and utmost attentiveness. He knew his friend sensed something behind his suddenly cold and standoffish demeanor, and Darcy was pleased that Bingley had not mentioned it. Taking a deep breath, Darcy moved his katana lithely through the air and felt his mind thinking once more of the events at the dance.

The warrior men of the assembly had worked for over an hour gathering the undead bodies together, tossing them into a pile outside to be burned. Upon lighting the heap, the servants had completed the cleaning of the bloodied floor and walls, and the dance commenced once more.

Bingley had approached Miss Bennet, requesting another dance, and Darcy stood stoically off to the side of the room, scanning the assembly room in case another threat was lurking in the shadows. Subsequently he noticed Sir William Lucas, who owned the assembly room and boasted the title of host for the night, approaching him. They had been formally introduced before the zombie attack a few hours ago, and he no doubt wished to assuage any unresolved tension in the room by mingling with his guests.

"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy!" Sir William Lucas said gleefully.

"Certainly, sir," responded Darcy. "However, as one can see from events that transpired earlier, it also makes them more susceptible to turn into one of Satan's children if they are not cautious enough."

Sir William's smile faded upon realizing that Darcy was implying his own lack of security and safety towards his guests. Sir William eagerly began searching for a new companion to converse with when he spotted Elizabeth Bennet approaching.

"Miss Eliza!" Sir William exclaimed, pulling Elizabeth into their conversation. "Why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy," he said glancing at the dark haired gentleman, "you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a most desirable partner."

Secretly Darcy had been wishing to know more of her, especially after appreciating her superior warrior skills moments ago, but before he could request the honor of her hand, Elizabeth spoke.

"Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing, and do not suppose I moved this way to beg for a partner," Elizabeth said. At that she shot Darcy a cold glance, curtseyed toward Sir William, and walked away.

Despite knowing her behavior was likely the result of her eavesdropping on his earlier conversation with Bingley, Darcy was still disappointed and quite embarrassed at her abrupt refusal. He knew there could be no future with her due to her circumstances, but it did not mean he had to avoid her altogether. With that, he watched her disappearing figure fade into the crowd and thought that she was the very opposite of his initial assessment of her.

While Darcy had been pondering his situation with Elizabeth Bennet, Sir William Lucas had taken the opportunity to escape the rather awkward situation, leaving Darcy standing alone. Darcy surveyed the room and noticed Bingley, the eldest Miss Bennet and Miss Bingley conversing on the other side of the room, and he immediately began making his way over to the group.

As he approached, Mr. Bingley was commenting on Miss Bennet's impressive warrior skills. Jane Bennet blushed and attempted to direct the conversation from her person by asking Miss Bingley about her life in London society among the ever-present threat of the undead. As the pair proceeded to get better acquainted, Bingley shot Darcy an encouraging smile. After several minutes of conversing amongst the group, Bingley asked for Miss Bennet to join him in one final dance before the party was to take their leave and retire to Netherfield for the night.

With his best friend occupied and Miss Bingley proving to be silent company, Darcy found himself once more sneaking glances at Elizabeth Bennet. She was laughing with Sir William Lucas' daughter, Charlotte, near the dance floor. It was at that moment, for the first time that night, Miss Bingley addressed him directly.

"I can guess the subject of your reverie," she cooed.

"I should guess not," he responded, his face remaining stern.

"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evening in this manner," she said.

"You are entirely wrong," responded Darcy. "My mind was more agreeable engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."

"And who, pray tell, is this fine eyed beauty?" inquired Miss Bingley, smiling in silent hope.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet," he replied, glancing at Miss Bingley with a smirk. Miss Bingley's eyes narrowed. She then suddenly proclaimed she felt ill and wished to retire immediately. With that she abruptly turned on her heels and went in search of her sister and brother-in-law after commenting that they would meet him and Bingley at the carriage.

The next morning after breakfast, Miss Bingley promptly announced she was inviting Miss Jane Bennet for tea that afternoon. Darcy glanced up from the letter he was writing his sister, Georgiana, when Miss Bingley sat down next to him at the writing table. Not wishing to be subject to her grievances again, he stood and joined Bingley on the other side of the room.

Removing his musket from his weapons belt, he began the tedious process of cleaning his most valued weapon. His mind soon envisioned the very moment he had shot it last- when he saved Elizabeth from Mrs. Featherstone. Bingley smiled up at him as he lifted his own dagger from the whetstone. Darcy immediately knew he too was thinking of a Bennet sister, no doubt the very one calling upon them this afternoon. Each man left the other to his private thoughts and soon all weapons were sharp and shining for their next fight against the undead.

Upon completing her letter, Miss Bingley called for Edmund to see to it that the note be delivered to Miss Bennet at Longbourn during the course of the morning. During luncheon a servant returned saying Miss Bennet had enthusiastically agreed to afternoon tea and would arrive promptly at 3 o'clock. She and Mrs. Hurst then decided to escape to the female sitting room until the guest arrived.

When the clock struck four and Miss Bennet had still not arrived, the parties at Netherfield grew anxious. Seeing the rain streaming from the sky, Mr. Bingley called for his horse to be brought and he hurriedly put on his coat, determined to set out to investigate. Darcy insisted he accompany his friend, knowing how easily zombies emerged from wet earth, but Bingley protested, stating that it was not necessary for both of them to expose themselves to the harsh climate.

After riding into the forest some ways, he came across Miss Bennet laying on the ground, an undead man, woman, and child slain near her. Upon further inspection, he saw her palm had been punctured and she was shivering from her wet clothes. He quickly slid from his horse and wrapped his coat around Miss Bennet, who briefly opened her eyes and offered a small smile at her rescuer. Bingley then lifted Miss Bennet onto his horse, and hoisted himself up behind her. Grabbing the reins, he secured one arm around her waist and kicked his heels into his horse's sides as they hastily rode the short distance to Netherfield.

Miss Bennet was shown to a room and given fresh clothing upon her arrival. A rider immediately was dispatched to the physician when it was discovered she had a fever and the chills. He returned saying that the doctor would arrive on the morrow as they were presently tending to a family whose youngest had contracted influenza. Bingley also had a letter sent to Longbourn to notify her family of her impending illness, stating that she was to stay at Netherfield until her condition had improved.

Bingley ordered for a servant to keep watch over Miss Bennet during the course of the night with strict instructions to inform him of any changes to her condition. Darcy was concerned how his friend could be so naïve as to ignore the signs of an obvious zombie infection. There was no way Miss Bennet could have evaded such an encounter without getting bitten; three against one? The odds were highly unlikely. Besides, Bingley informed him that she had an apparent wound on her right hand. Regardless of his friend's apparent feelings for the eldest Miss Bennet, he had to right the situation, and he knew the only time he would be remotely permitted inside the bedroom would be during the physician's visit.

Darcy decided to confront Bingley the next morning at breakfast to remind him of the dangers a newly bitten undead posed, using the situation at Mrs. Featherstone's estate as an embarrassing but necessary example.

"She must be closely monitored and her room locked at all times, Bingley," said Darcy, willing his friend to see reason.

The door abruptly opened and Edmund entered, announcing the presence of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who followed him inside the breakfast parlor.

Darcy's eyebrows shot up in astonishment, and he rose from his seat, giving her a curt bow.

"Did you walk all the way here?" Caroline inquired, her tone dripping with contempt.

"Yes," Elizabeth responded, gasping to steady her breathing. "How is my sister?"

"She was feverish and slept ill last night. I fear she has the flu," responded Bingley.

"Or worse," Darcy added, glancing at his friend. How could Bingley be so blind?

"I detest illness," stated Caroline, "it keeps one in a continual state of inelegance."

"Quite," confirmed Mrs. Hurst from the other side of the table.

"May I tend to her?" asked Elizabeth, addressing Bingley.

"Of course," Bingley replied. "Edmund, show Miss Bennet the way."

Elizabeth thanked Bingley, glanced Darcy's way, and then left the room.

"I will not make the same mistake I made at Mrs. Featherstone's whist party, Bingley," said Darcy after the door had shut. He was determined now more than ever to extinguish the potential zombie threat. If he was unable to control the very residence he was residing in, how could he be expected to protect his own estate and surrounding lands, or all of England for that matter? Besides, he had made many kills in his time as a Colonel, and relieving the world of an undead Miss Bennet, despite his friend's affections for the lady, would unfortunately not be the most trying kill of his lifetime. No, that kill would always be closer to his heart.

When the physician arrived, Darcy volunteered to escort him to Miss Bennet's room. While walking up the steps he updated the doctor on how Miss Bennet came to be in their charge and suggested she may have been bitten before arriving at the estate. Darcy knocked on the wooden door to announce their arrival and they both entered. Elizabeth was seated next to the bed, one hand upon her sister's brow and concern on her face. The physician headed to the side of the bed to inspect his patient, while Darcy proceeded to close the door. He then reached into his jacket pocket to extract the vile of carrion flies he placed there that morning. Releasing the stopper and tapping the vile discretely against his hand, the flies began buzzing about the room.

"She got caught in the downpour?" the physician inquired.

"Yes," Elizabeth eagerly confirmed before noticing the new vermin in the room.

Darcy snuck the vile back into his pocket and calmly placed his hands behind his back. He moved to the foot of the bed and slipped the dagger he had hidden up his right sleeve into his hand, ready to attack once the flies confirmed his suspicions.

Seeing Elizabeth's alertness to the flies, he glanced her way and then turned sternly towards the bed. To his surprise, Elizabeth quickly extended her arm right in front of his face, catching one of the flies between her thumb and pointer finger. Darcy was shockingly impressed, after he realized she was thwarting his attempt to expose Jane as an undead. Elizabeth then darted another hand out, catching a second fly.

At that moment the physician removed Jane's bandaged hand from below the bed sheet. Elizabeth caught one more fly from in front of Darcy's face, distracting him momentarily.

"The wound, doctor?" Darcy insisted after refocusing.

"Her musket backfired," stated Elizabeth. The doctor began unwinding the bandage and examined Jane's hand.

"I see no indication of a bite," the physician said after inspecting the wound.

"That was never in question," Elizabeth said, glancing over at Darcy, and capturing yet another fly before him.

Darcy glanced back at Elizabeth and promptly slid the dagger back into his sleeve before attempting to sneak out of the room. He knew Elizabeth had figured out his scheme, and he did not wish to remain any longer.

"Ahem," Elizabeth said, gaining Darcy's attention. "I believe that these belong to you," extending a clenched hand towards him, indicating the captured flies.

Darcy walked back towards Elizabeth and stretched out an opened hand. Holding his gaze, she squeezed her palm tight, killing the flies, and then smirked while proceeding to drop the now useless creatures into his palm.

He was all astonishment at her lack of civility. He glanced down at the smashed flies and then up at Elizabeth, his cool glare now mimicking hers. Granted he had plenty of more flies at his disposal, but the way she challenged him was one experience he had never faced before. Was she so reckless as to ignore the signs of zombie contamination right before her very eyes?

Moving his hand down to his side, he offered her a curt bow and left the room, seeking out peace in the library.

Once dinner concluded, Elizabeth dismissed herself to check on her sister once more. Darcy joined the others in the parlor for a game of cards and wondered if the zombie infection had taken over Jane's body by now. He feared that Elizabeth's carelessness would lead to her being her sister's first victim, and he intended to inquire after Elizabeth's welfare if she did not return before they retired. They had just finished their thirds round when Elizabeth walked in, he quietly sighed in relief. The gentlemen stood in greeting, and Bingley immediately inquired after her sister.

"She's fast asleep," responded Elizabeth smiling.

"I'm sure she'll be quite well," said Bingley encouragingly. "Please, join us Miss Bennet," he continued, stepping behind his chair, indicating for her to take his seat at the table.

"Thank you, but I'll amuse myself with a book."

"You prefer reading to cards?" Mr. Hurst said shocked.

"I prefer a great many things to cards, Mr. Hurst," Elizabeth responded honestly.

"Sekai no hanbun wa, hoka no yorokobi o rikai suru koto wa dekimasen," said Miss Bingley, laughing from her spot at the table. Mr. and Mrs. Hurst joined in on the private joke. One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of another.

"I don't speak Japanese," Elizabeth responded.

"No, of course. You didn't train in Japan. China was it?" Caroline said condescendingly. By now Darcy had realized the game Caroline was playing. She had been a constant presence in his life, one he had tolerated because of his friend, and now she was attempting to demean this apparent female threat. Darcy found it amusing. No doubt Elizabeth had sharp enough wit and tongue to defend herself against Caroline's ridicule.

"The Shaolin Temple in Henan province," Elizabeth said. "It was there that I learned to endure all manner of discomfort."

"May I inquire as to the nature of this discomfort?" Caroline persisted. Darcy reached for his glass of port, knowing if he did not occupy his mouth soon he would start speaking on Elizabeth's behalf. Undoubtedly she was jealous of his comment the night before over Elizabeth's fine eyes and was attempting to diminish Elizabeth's appeal in his own eyes.

Elizabeth glanced evenly at Caroline and, with a smirk, responded, "Oh, I would much rather give you a demonstration."

Darcy chose this as a most inopportune moment to take a sip from his glass. His eyebrows rose in shock, and he quickly swallowed, for he did secretly wish to receive a demonstration himself. Putting his glass down, he and Bingley both began chuckling at Miss Bennet's brilliant retort. Elizabeth then turned to examine a set of novels on a table behind her.

Caroline, determined to turn her attentions back to the source of her affections, glanced to Mr. Darcy and inquired after his sister.

"Is your sister much grown since the spring?" Caroline asked.

Darcy, sensing her new scheme, replied, "She is now about the same height at Miss Elizabeth Bennet," knowing it would vex Caroline and force Elizabeth to acknowledge his presence once more. He was right. Elizabeth turned to look at him briefly and then resumed admiring the small collection of books.

Ignoring his redirection towards Elizabeth, Caroline said, "I do not believe I have ever met a girl who was so extremely accomplished."

"The word accomplished is far too liberally applied to young ladies today," said Darcy, "but my sister, Georgiana, does deserve that distinction. Not only is she a master of the female arts, but the deadly as well.

Darcy took any moment allowed to dote upon his sister. Apart from Bingley, she was his closest confidant. He had been her sole guardian since their father's death, and he ensured she received the best training master and educational tutors available. She had grown into a kind, compassionate female, as fierce as any warrior and affectionate, as a young lady ought to be.

"I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen in the whole range of my acquaintance that are thus accomplished," Darcy continued.

"Nor I, I am sure," Caroline quickly agreed, smiling. Darcy smiled back at Caroline, knowing full well she would have eagerly agreed with anything he had said in that moment.

"Then, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, approaching the table and staring at him straight on, "you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman."

"I do," Darcy stated firmly to Elizabeth. "A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing and the modern languages. She must be well trained in the fighting styles of Kyoto masters and the weapons and tactics in modern Europe or the term would only be half deserved."

"And you know six such women? I wonder now at your knowing any," Elizabeth challenged.

"Are you so severe on your own sex?" asked Darcy.

"A woman is either highly trained, or highly refined. One cannot afford the luxury of both in such times," Elizabeth responded. She then walked over and selected a worn copy of Sun Tzu's novel, The Art of War, and began flipping through the pages.

"Ah," exclaimed Darcy, immediately recognizing the book in her hand and pleased to see it was one of her favorites as well. "L'Art De La Guerre. The Art of War."

Elizabeth turned and looked at him questionably. "Have you not read it in its original Wu dialect?" she inquired.

"Alas," Darcy admitted, shaking his head and lowering his gaze to the cards in his hands.

"Ránhòu, nǐ cónglái méiyǒu dúguò sūnzi bīngfǎ," Elizabeth said aggressively to Darcy in Chinese. Then you've never read The Art of War. Darcy slowly lifted his eyes, locking them with Elizabeth's. He did not speak Chinese himself, but he knew she was challenging his competence on the matter. His stony glare did not deter her from offering a quick smirk before she announced her intent to check on her sister once more.

Darcy and Bingley rose from their seats, and all three gentlemen nodded in politeness as she departed the room. Darcy's eyes followed her until the door shut, and then he sat down to resume their game of whist.

"She's one of those young ladies who seeks to recommend themselves to men by undervaluing their own sex," Caroline offered.

"Undoubtedly," agreed Darcy, feeling dejected by Elizabeth's misunderstanding of his comment.

With just the moonlight guiding his way, Darcy walked outside with his katana to the gardens. Everyone had retired for the evening and he wished once again to meditate in silence. His frustration grew with each fluid movement of his blade. Frustration with his growing feelings for Elizabeth. Frustration for her brashness in dealing with her stricken sister. Frustration for his familial obligation to marry well. Frustration for not having his father or mother alive to provide advice in the matter.

He glided his katana through a series of sword training techniques as he maneuvered his way through the garden. His mind then transitioned to the other frustration that plagued his mind: that he had not yet been able to avenge his family against the man who wronged his family. He knew the good Lord would give him his day of reckoning; he just had to be patience and seize the opportunity when it arose.

Darcy had maneuvered himself before a knight statuette in the garden and promptly decapitated it with one swift movement of his blade, wishing instead that it were that of a certain gentleman. Sensing a presence watching him, he turned around and saw a particular pair of fine eyes gazing out at him from an upper window. Upon discovery, the figure quickly retreated and the curtain dropped hastily back into place. Darcy turned back towards the statue and offered a rare smile. Maybe there was hope.

The following morning Bingley and Darcy descended the stairs to greet Mrs. Bennet and her other three daughters.

"Mrs. Bennet, I am so glad to see you," said Bingley in greeting.

Mrs. Bennet returned a smile and curtseyed while responding, "Oh, and sadly in distressing circumstances."

"Are you here to take Jane home?" Darcy inquired upon noticing a servant carrying several trunks.

"No," responded Mrs. Bennet.

"Yes!" shouted a familiar voice. Darcy turned to his right where he was greeted by Elizabeth Bennet, her pale sister leaning against her for support as they walked into the foyer. "We must not trespass any longer on your kindness," Elizabeth insisted while rushing towards the front door. Darcy glanced at Bingley, knowing he would refuse such a proposal.

"Surely she is too ill to be moved!" Bingley objected, moving swiftly towards the front door to chase after the pair.

"She does look very pale," agreed Mrs. Bennet.

Darcy quickly bowed towards the sisters and rushed after Bingley, calling his name. He knew it was best for Jane to leave, especially in the event she was unable to control her impending zombie urges. He would not risk his friend over some fleeting romance.

"I must protest!" Bingley was insisting when Darcy walked out the door. Elizabeth had successfully placed Jane into the family carriage and turned to block the entrance.

"Bingley, please," said Darcy, placing his hand on his friend's chest to stop him from approaching the carriage. He then attempted to talk sense into his friend. "Carelessness when dealing with a zombie infection can lead to your abrupt demise."

"Arrogance could lead to yours," said Elizabeth, who was now standing directly behind Darcy.

Darcy turned around to face the brazen Elizabeth Bennet. "Your defect, Miss Bennet, besides eavesdropping, is to willfully misunderstand people," he said, his stern glare unwavering.

"And yours is to be unjustly prejudiced against them," she retorted, lifting her chin and staring defiantly back at him. Their dispute would have surely continued would not have Mrs. Bennet intervened.

"Come on, Eliza," Mrs. Bennet insisted, grasping Elizabeth's hand firmly and pulling her away. Darcy and Elizabeth continued scowling at each other until the moment she turned to step into the carriage. He wished she would understand that his actions were done with honorable intensions for he merely wished to save her from the same fate he endured with his father.

Bingley turned towards Darcy before walking to the carriage, pleading silently for him not to intervene any more. All sisters were seated as he approached, and Mrs. Bennet turned to say her final goodbyes before stepping in.

"Mr. Bingley, I know just the thing to break this terrible tension and lift the spirits of the county: a ball at Netherfield," she said.

"Out of the question!" Darcy interjected. "The security arrangements alone…"

"It's a brilliant idea!" Bingley said interrupting his friend. "When Jane is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the day." He then offered his hand to assist her into the carriage.

"I should be honored," replied Mrs. Bennet with a flirtatious smile.

Darcy observed Elizabeth steadfastly as she sat in the carriage. She turned in her seat to reciprocate his cool glance. After a few moments, she forced herself to look away, only to focus on his face once more until he was no longer in view.

He raised his head proudly as the driver ordered the horses to proceed. Watching the carriage depart up the drive, Darcy's face softened, and he wished she would glance back at him once more. When the carriage was out of sight, Bingley turned around to glance back at his friend. Darcy quickly averted his eyes back to Bingley, his scowl returning. He knew his friend would have some choice words with him later about his rude behavior, and Darcy certainly wanted to deliberate on Bingley's agreement to host a ball, but for now at least he wanted to relish in the memories of the feisty Elizabeth Bennet.