I am not Jane Austen—heck, I've never even met her—but I'm having a wonderful time playing with the people she imagined. Thank you for all your reviews and encouragement.

Havenswood, Chapter Four

"Stop wringing your hands, dear," Suzanna said with some amusement, raising her voice a little over the din of chattering voices and banging pots. "A lady never betrays her agitation."

Elizabeth faced her sharply, forcing her hands to relax in her lap. "I am not agitated."

Suzanna chuckled quietly. "Of course not, dear. But just in case you were, I thought it was a useful piece of advice."

Elizabeth offered Suzanna a wry smile, reaching out for her teacup. She ran her other hand over the rough-hewn edge of the kitchen table, surprised at how the wear of years had smoothed and shined even the most jagged sections. "How then is a lady expected to ease her agitation if she is allowed no physical outlet?"

"What did your mother teach you about such things?"

Elizabeth sniffed delicately and stared into her cup. "Mama did not… that is to say, she was not perhaps the best example of ladylike behavior. She always errs on the side of over-expressing her emotions."

"And yet you turned out so well? Besides the hand-wringing, obviously."

"I had other models, I suppose, my aunt in particular. I was aware from a very early age of Papa's disdain for Mama's histrionics, and his opinion was always the one that mattered most. If he disapproved of something she did, I did not allow it in myself."

Suzanna watched Elizabeth thoughtfully for a few moments before saying, "Your father is very important to you, isn't he?"

Elizabeth nodded but couldn't speak. Her emotions had been entirely out of control since the gentlemen had left yesterday afternoon, and apparently the tea and quiet conversation with Suzanna, which usually helped her feel so much more in control, was not having a profound enough effect.

"Your hands, Beth."

Elizabeth jerked her hands apart, staring at them in annoyance. Her expression made Suzanna laugh heartily, and after a moment, she laughed as well.

"Oh, Suzanna, I don't know what to do. I feel so certain of my choice when I think of my sisters, of having to live with being the cause of their ruination, but when I picture a future in a series of rented rooms with only myself and my child, I feel overwhelmingly lonely now. It used to be a hopeful imagining but now…"

"But now you know something better is possible. I still think, my dear, that you are more concerned than you ought to be regarding the societal impact of your marriage. Yes, there will be those who will whisper about you, and of course his relations won't rejoice at the connection, but even I know that your Mr. Darcy has impressive influence in London society, and I believe you underestimate his ability to smooth your path."

Elizabeth sighed. "What if you are wrong? What if he is wrong? Is my personal happiness worth risking the happiness of all those I love?"

"There are no guarantees in life, Beth. All you can do is your best. Follow your heart."

"I have always disliked that particular platitude. How can my heart lead when it doesn't know which way to go?"

Suzanna reached across the table to take her hand. "Give it time. You still needn't make a decision today. You have some weeks yet."

"But the longer I wait, the more it will hurt."

Suzanna patted the back of her hand sympathetically but didn't answer. She filled Elizabeth's cup again, but before Elizabeth could raise it, Michael appeared in the kitchen doorway looking serious. "Miss Beth, those gentlemen have returned. Do you wish to see them?"

Elizabeth remained very still, feeling the blood drain from her cheeks. "Both of them?"

"Yes. I can send them away if you wish. You were so upset yesterday…"

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather herself, and stood slowly. "No, Michael, it's all right. I am coming presently."

He seemed doubtful, but at a look from Suzanna, he straightened, bowed, and left.

Elizabeth turned to her friend. "Please, Suzanna, will you come with me? I could face Mr. Darcy alone, I think, but if his cousin is here…"

"Very well. But don't look to me for advice, only for support."

"Of course. Thank you so much."

A short walk later, Michael introduced them into the parlor, and despite the sick feeling inside her, Suzanna's presence helped enough that Elizabeth was able to walk into the room with her back straight and her eyes forward.

Mr. Fitzwilliam was nearest the door, this time without hat, greatcoat, or walking stick, in a most humble stance. Mr. Darcy stood across the room, having just looked up from the window. He moved forward and bowed elegantly, although his eyes never left Elizabeth's through his movement.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Suzanna said regally, nodding to them as she moved fully into the room. "I believe I should like to be introduced, Beth."

"Of course. Lady Suzanna Winters, may I present Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire."

"It is a pleasure to meet you formally, sir," she said, allowing him to take her hand.

"And you as well, madam," he answered politely. Elizabeth could tell that he was a little uncomfortable because his manner was far more similar to his behavior in Hertfordshire, and it surprised her to see the shift. "Elizabeth has been nothing but complimentary in her references to you and your home. Allow me to present my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. His father is my uncle, the Earl of Matlock."

"I am acquainted with Lady Fitzwilliam, I believe," Suzanna said, slightly surprised. "We were school fellows, although it has been many years since I saw her last. She is a fine woman."

"Indeed, Lady Winters," the colonel said, looking relieved by her words. "I am pleased to have some references, however distant. I fear that I have given Miss Franklin here no reason whatsoever to think well of me."

Suzanna raised her eyebrows slightly but otherwise betrayed no surprise at the colonel's lack of information. Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Darcy, who sent her a significant look that confirmed her assumption: considering his cousin's response yesterday, it would be better for her true identity to remain a secret for now.

Elizabeth looked back at the colonel, who was watching her with a humorous mix of shame and hope. She smiled slightly. "At least you are an honest man, Colonel. And I know you care very deeply for the well-being of your family."

"You are more gracious than I deserve. You may not say it, Miss Franklin, but I can see you are a little afraid of me. I cannot blame you."

He was right, of course. Elizabeth was uncomfortable just being in the room with him, and no amount of rationality was convincing her otherwise.

Mr. Darcy moved forward, right in front of her, and waited until she looked up at him. "I brought him back with me for a purpose, Elizabeth, but if you'd rather he left…"

"No, no. It's all right." She smiled weakly at him. "If nothing else, he can be your counterpoint. You tend to be more persuasive than is probably healthy."

He smiled slightly and raised an eyebrow, distinctly unrepentant, and she laughed, finally losing some of her tension. It was so strange to see the man she had come to know in the past weeks fit so neatly inside the formal Mr.-Darcy-of-Pemberley shell, but it helped her reconcile the two sides of him.

"Be seated, gentlemen," Suzanna said, motioning toward a grouping of chairs at the side of the room. She sat in a chair next to the settee where Elizabeth settled with Mr. Darcy beside her, and the colonel took the chair across from Suzanna. The lady then gestured imperiously to Mr. Darcy. "You may begin, sir."

He raised his eyebrows, obviously uncomfortable. "Begin, madam?"

"Is your purpose here today not to convince Beth to allow you to continue to court her? I suggest you get started."

He turned to Elizabeth, who felt herself blushing furiously. "Do you feel you need a judge, Elizabeth? Or an advocate?"

"Suzanna is here to support me. You can be quite overwhelming."

He rolled his eyes, a comical expression on such a normally fastidious man, then drew in a deep breath. "I actually thought we could begin by hearing your concerns. Tell me your fears, the consequences of our marrying that seem so disastrous, and I will attempt to allay them one by one."

"That… seems fair enough," Elizabeth said, trying to build a list in her thoughts. "I am uncertain where to start."

"Perhaps with the concern you mentioned yesterday," the colonel suggested meekly. "The ruination of your sisters."

The sick feeling rose up again within her, and she swallowed thickly. "Very well. My first concern, sir, is that if we marry, our marriage will bring about so much gossip that it will make it nearly impossible for my sisters to contract worthy alliances. A man marrying his mistress can be disastrous, especially when the woman is poor and relatively friendless."

"You are not my mistress, Elizabeth."

"You and I know that, sir, but we cannot exactly defend ourselves against that accusation from others. For all intents and purposes, society will view me as your mistress."

He gave her a surprisingly satisfied expression. "Unfortunately, you are correct, at least assuming our circumstances are made public, but I believe that we must recognize the blessing that comes from your family being rather unknown. It is not as if I will be wedding a woman who is a well-known courtesan, an actress, or even my mistress of long-standing. There will of course be rumors because our marriage will not be published until after the birth of our child, but I believe that after some weeks, the public's general lack of knowledge of you will allow the gossip to die."

"Gossip rarely dies as quick a death as we might wish, sir," Elizabeth argued, unconvinced.

"I suppose, but I believe that your wit and vivacity, your intelligent charm, will go much farther toward winning over the doubters than you might suppose. They will be haughty and suspicious at first, but as they watch you skillfully flay any critical opponent with your wit, they will realize that they would rather have you as a friend."

"Do you truly consider me so skilled? I have little to no experience in high society, sir."

"If I have learned nothing else from my time at Pemberley and in Hertfordshire, I do know now that smaller communities are simply smaller versions of Town. Gossiping matrons, waspish spinsters, vapid debutantes and overzealous gold-diggers are the same in any assembly room. You may be surprised by the scale of the forums but not by the content of the conversation, and I have seen you parry enough insults from the likes of Miss Bingley that I have no fear regarding your ability to survive Almack's. You will impress them all, or frighten them, and either way, it will accomplish what we wish."

Elizabeth tried to argue through her slight embarrassment, unsure whether to be horrified or complimented by his opinion of her, but he continued speaking. "And I am certain that any slight blame permanently attached to your sisters because of our conduct would be… significantly alleviated by their dowries."

Elizabeth choked on a bitter laugh. "Have you forgotten my family's circumstances, sir? My four sisters will inherit their equal share of my mother's four-thousand pounds, and that only upon her death. That is practically nothing."

"That was true in the past, my love, but assuming I can convince you, then on the day of our marriage, they will have an additional expectation of five-thousand pounds each upon their marriages."

She gaped at him, and she heard Suzanna release a satisfied little chuckle.

"That's twenty-thousand pounds, Darcy," Colonel Fitzwilliam said, casting a doubtful look at his cousin. "When you mentioned bestowing a small dowry on them, I wasn't imagining quite such an amount."

"'Tis only fair to them, and as their brother, I would have every right to do it."

Elizabeth felt a not-unpleasant twist in her middle at his expression of such a sentiment—he really would be their brother, and the idea of him willingly taking an interest in their well-being, in them having such a protector, was one that quite delighted her. She tried, however, to remain objective. "But sir, that is an immense sum, and even were it possible to bestow such an amount on them, my father would not be inclined to accept."

"You have described your father as a fair-minded man, Elizabeth. Do you not think he would see the justice of my doing my part in overcoming the consequences of my own actions?"

She thought hard, trying to think of another argument, but she came up empty. "Perhaps. At least, I hope he would allow it." She turned to face him fully. "But my conscience will not allow me to accept if the amount was in any way detrimental to your estate, and I cannot imagine how it could not be."

He smiled, a smugness present that she found simultaneously irritating and attractive. "Ironically enough, my darling, my concerns regarding your well-being in the past several months have translated into a much more focused and adventurous version of my usual financial management. My energetic desire to search for you coupled with my complete inability to do so led to my making several large investments in somewhat risky ventures—for what good would all my money do me anyway if I could never find you?—which have paid off surprisingly. I can, at present, not only guarantee payment on your sisters' behalves, but I can also declare my intention to settle an appropriate amount upon you when we marry."

Elizabeth stiffened. "How much do you consider 'appropriate?'"

He evaluated her expression closely before saying very seriously, "I think I would rather not say at present."

"But…"

"Do not ask, Beth," Suzanna advised, smiling slightly. "If you are going to be horrified by a large amount, do not ask."

Elizabeth sighed, swallowing the words. "Very well. I will… try not to think about it."

Darcy looked both pleased and uncertain as he reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. "Then may we agree that we have put to rest the concerns regarding your sisters' futures?"

She nodded slowly, finally allowing herself a small smile. "Yes, sir. And thank you for your consideration of them."

"They are your sisters, and I know how much you love them. If all things work to my benefit, they shall be my sisters, and I want them to be happy."

She squeezed his hand gratefully. He gazed at her intently, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with how much she had missed his presence during the previous weeks. Such feelings had been obscured by her embarrassment and misery after his cousin's appearance yesterday, but they came upon her again quite suddenly, and she felt acutely how close she was to losing her heart to this generous, thoughtful man.

The colonel cleared his throat, making Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy aware that they had been gazing for rather longer than they had realized, and Elizabeth tried to ignore the heat rushing into her face as she released Mr. Darcy's hand and straightened.

"Shall we move on then?" Suzanna asked helpfully, clearly hiding her amusement, "You spoke to me, Beth, about your fears regarding the well-being of your child."

"Yes, of course," Elizabeth said, trying not to be too obviously relieved by Suzanna's assistance. "I am sensitive enough regarding my own reputation and good name in society, sir, but I would wish for some reassurances that our child would not carry any taint because of me."

"Again, dearest, there might be whisperings, and by the time our children were old enough to understand, it would be our duty to explain to them some truths regarding their oldest brother or sister's origin that they might combat such rumors with equanimity, but I think you would be quite surprised to know how many of Society's most influential members have a somewhat colorful history. Assuming that our children will be intelligent, cautious, and well-educated, they will be perfectly respectable."

"But what if something happens and our child is born before we are able to wed?" Elizabeth asked, her stomach twisting yet again.

Mr. Darcy grasped her hand again comfortingly. "We will do everything we can to prevent that from happening. As you know, I purchased a Special License while in London. I will leave it here with you, that it might always be available should we need it quickly. You've written to me of Mr. Pippins, your parson—he is always nearby?"

"He never travels," Suzanna assured him. "Gout."

"A pity for him but helpful for us."

"I am grateful for your precautions," Elizabeth insisted, "but birthing is unpredictable. It would not be impossible for the child to arrive before my birthday. What then? What will happen if we cannot marry?"

"Why not ask your father for permission to marry before then?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked. "Surely he would not deny you an opportunity to legitimize your connection to a man such as Darcy."

The gut-twisting that had plagued her all morning suddenly threatened to overwhelm her. She shook her head silently, unable to speak.

"Beth…" Suzanna began slowly.

"Elizabeth has declared it to be impossible to ask his permission," Mr. Darcy said. His voice was quiet but brooked no opposition. "Therefore, we shall not consider it."

She smiled at him, both sheepish and grateful.

He continued. "If our child is born before we are able to marry, then we will weather the consequences together. The child may be a girl, and if so, no one will ever need to know she is not legitimate. I may leave her a sum of money just the same as with any other daughter."

"We would… pretend that she was legitimate?" she asked, surprised. "I was under the impression that you disliked pretense, sir."

"I do, and I would rather not have to attempt it, but it would be a very simple and victimless evasion. If we admitted that she was born before our marriage, she never would be able to enter society."

"Sons born on the 'wrong side of the blanket' can still move in society," Suzanna suggested.

"But not with any degree of true respectability," Fitzwilliam scoffed.

"A son born before we were able to wed might still find a place on society's fringes, but he would never inherit," Elizabeth said, sadness making it hard to keep her posture from slumping into the back of the settee. "He would always know that he was denied what was rightfully his. It would be heartbreaking."

"We would raise him with love, make no distinction between him and any other children, Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy argued nervously, chaffing her thumb with his. "And when he was old enough, we would tell him the truth of his inheritance. I would leave him plenty of money, enough to purchase his own estate should he choose to do so."

"You would raise him as a Darcy, with all the pride and influence that naturally accompany a name such as yours, and then deprive him of his right to inherit Pemberley?" Elizabeth asked, her voice quiet but sharp and flinty. "How would he ever forgive us?"

Mr. Darcy looked pained but was unable to build a sufficient response.

"Elizabeth, you have a legitimate concern," Suzanna advised gently, "but you are borrowing trouble, my dear. There is a very good chance that your child will be born well after your marriage. You will do all you can to prevent illegitimacy, and I suggest that you make your decisions based on the assumption that you succeed. There is no reason to believe you won't."

Elizabeth closed her eyes and covered them with her free hand. She thought for several moments, the others waiting silently, then looked back up at them with a slight grimace. "I am not perfectly satisfied on this point, but Suzanna is correct, and assuming that we would be able to marry before the birth, I acknowledge that our child will be in far better circumstances than if I were to raise him or her on my own."

"I'm sure such an attempt would not be necessary," Colonel Fitzwilliam said, his eyes wide. "Although I recognize now that your circumstances are significantly different from those I assumed yesterday, I am still certain Darcy will provide for the child." He looked to Darcy casually for affirmation but was caught by the displeased frown on his face. "Won't you?"

"Elizabeth won't allow it," he said, his expression as blank as it had been the first day he'd arrived at Havenswood. At least now Elizabeth could recognize it as stemming from pain rather than disapproval.

The colonel turned on her, shocked and horrified. "You would rather raise a child in penniless obscurity than accept help from the father? And here I was under the impression that you were a rather sensible young lady."

"Fitzwilliam," Mr. Darcy rebuked curtly. "Whether or not Elizabeth's decisions make sense to you is hardly at issue here, and she has no need to explain herself. I asked you here as a voice of reason to help remind us of the opinions of the world outside of this corner of Surrey, not as a judge of things wholly unrelated to yourself."

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked unimpressed, and Elizabeth thought he would continue the argument, but after a long look at his cousin, he frowned and nodded, waving them on.

"Have you any other concerns?" Mr. Darcy asked gently, trying to make up for his cousin.

"I…" She thought hard for several moments. "I am worried regarding the reaction of my family to my circumstances, but since a wedding would assuage the concern of most of them, I must consider that in your favor as well. I suppose then that my last, although not least, concern is for your sister. Miss Darcy has a large fortune and good connections, I am certain, but would her brother's marrying his mistress not have a significant impact upon her prospects? You have already described her as a shy girl, inclined to think less of herself than others. Would not our marriage make her introduction into society even more difficult for her?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam made an inarticulate sound of satisfaction.

Mr. Darcy shifted uncomfortably and stood suddenly, pacing to the window then returning. "Georgiana is, I will admit, quite reserved and uncertain in society. I… I cannot say that I would guarantee her chances of a good match would not be effected by our union, but there are good men out there, men who will judge her on her own merits, and perhaps having a slightly tarnished value will even weed out those who would seek her for mere gain."

"Darcy," the colonel barked, surprising them all, "I have seen the sense of all your other arguments, but this one is ridiculous. I can see that you know that your connection to Georgiana, regardless of its effect on any others, will be to her detriment in the marriage market. The wisest men will steer clear of her, never getting a chance to see her sweetness, and the only ones who will be willing to risk her will be those who need the money more than they need the connections, dissipated young lords who need to pay off debts or new-moneyed upstarts who believe more capital will breed greater influence. You cannot leave her to their clutches."

Mr. Darcy sat back down, seeming to sag into the back of the settee. "I cannot believe that there couldn't be a good man who would be willing to take her on."

"Willing to take her on? This is your sister we are discussing!" The colonel was sitting forward now, and his strong face had grown rather red. "She is too precious to be 'taken on' by anyone! She deserves better! She deserves to be loved by a man who is worthy of her!"

"I know it!" Mr. Darcy cried, rubbing his face hard with his hands. "But does not Elizabeth deserve the same? Which one's happiness shall we sacrifice for the sake of the other's?"

Elizabeth barely looked at Mr. Darcy when he spoke—her eyes were fixed on Colonel Fitzwilliam's face. "What if," she said slowly, "there was another option?"

"Like what?" both men asked. Elizabeth glanced at Suzanna who had apparently noticed the same thing Elizabeth had, for she nodded once with a sly smile.

"What if Miss Darcy's introduction into society was only a formality? What if she was already as good as engaged to someone, a man with good connections and position?"

"Are you suggesting that we go on a hunt for a husband for her before she is formally out?" Mr. Darcy asked, his eyes wide and panicked. "Even were I to agree to such a scheme, she is too young for us to be considering all this. I would never force her into a union with any man, not unless it couldn't be helped!"

The colonel made an irritated sound. "She is not so young as you persist in believing, Darcy. There will only be one more Season before she is eighteen and presented at Court."

"She told me that she does not wish to be presented so soon but would prefer to wait, and I concur."

"This may surprise you, considering the limited attention you have bestowed upon her in recent months, but her opinion regarding her coming out has shifted somewhat."

"I have been perpetually with her in London, with the exception only of the past month. You must be mistaken. I have noticed no great change in her."

Mr. Darcy was trying very diligently to hide his discomfort regarding the topic, but Elizabeth was both amused and impressed by the intensity of his attachment to his sister and his resistance to the idea of her growing up. He truly was more a father to her than a brother, and he was reacting exactly as most fathers would to the suggestion of their daughters hunting a husband.

Elizabeth quickly cut off that thought, unwilling to consider her own father's feelings regarding her growing up.

"And yet she is different, Darcy," the colonel argued. "She has spent much time visiting my family during these past months while you've been so preoccupied. I believe my mother's confidence and courage have begun to reawaken her vitality and interest in the world. Georgie was quite frustrated, although she tried valiantly not to show it, by her inability to attend the last ball before I left for Kent. She is showing interest in everything again, as she used to do."

Again? The colonel's words implied some interruption to Miss Darcy's life that left Elizabeth quite curious, a feeling multiplied greatly by Mr. Darcy's obvious reluctance to believe his sister might be behaving like most young ladies of her age and situation. But what had happened? And had she the courage to ask him?

She turned her thoughts back to the conversation at hand. She had to play it exactly right. "Are there any particular young men in whom she is interested, Colonel? A young lady of her age often discovers tender feelings for some one or another, however short their attachments might be."

Mr. Darcy said quickly, "Elizabeth, I am certain Georgiana is far too sensible to allow herself such silliness," but his response was rather irrelevant when Elizabeth saw the colonel look down at the ground and bite his lip as he tried not to blush.

"Really?" she asked.

"I believe Darcy is right," the colonel said, trying to sound confident and unconcerned. "Georgie's life has matured her somewhat beyond the fickle silliness of typical young ladies. She is far too familiar with heartbreak to be so foolish. I believe that in giving her heart to a man, Georgie will do so as a woman, not as a girl."

Mr. Darcy turned to stare at his cousin, unable to speak for the horror he was obviously experiencing.

"And has she given her heart already, sir?" Elizabeth asked gently.

The colonel returned her gaze earnestly but didn't answer for several seconds. Elizabeth left their eyes connected, and she saw the moment he softened and decided to be open with her. "I believe she has, yes."

"What?" Mr. Darcy roared. "She is only sixteen! What business has she falling in love just now? And who is the blackguard who has convinced her to be so unwise? I must have his name, Richard!"

Colonel Fitzwilliam didn't even flinch under his cousin's onslaught. He continued looking at Elizabeth, who hoped he could see her warmth and sympathy.

"I believe, sir," Elizabeth said, finally looking up at a red-faced Mr. Darcy, "that he might tell us if only you would sit down and remain calm."

"Calm? It is perhaps easy to speak of calm, but this is my baby sister we are discussing, and…"

"She is almost seventeen," the colonel said mildly, "the same age your mother was when she married your father."

"Seventeen is still too young, far too young considering the experiences in her past that have caused her so much heartache."

Elizabeth reached out for Mr. Darcy's hand and tugged him back to sit beside her. He continued muttering imprecations as he sat, and she could see that no matter what else was said, he would only hear the pieces he wished to hear.

She leaned toward him, wrapped both of her hands around his tightly, and pressed her lips against his cheek.

His words cut off, and as she backed away, his head swiveled toward hers, seeking her eyes. She gazed back tenderly. "It is hard for you to think of your sister as a young woman, but that does not change the reality. Stop being afraid for her and start listening. I believe your cousin has something important to tell you, something that might be the answer to your worries and mine, something that will make her immensely happy."

Mr. Darcy listened to her words raptly, and when she stopped speaking, he closed his eyes for a moment, as if to gather himself, and drew in a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he seemed clearer and calmer. "All right."

They both turned expectantly to the colonel, who was watching them with open admiration.

"Fitzwilliam?" Mr. Darcy prompted.

He shook his head, started to speak, blushed, then began to speak again slowly. "I… that is, Darcy… well, you see, it has been many years since I have been in England for above three months in any given year, and as you well know, only a few weeks of those months have ever been spent much in your and your sister's company. I have always cared for her as my cousin, and the responsibility of being one of her guardians only added to that affection, but I was never truly around enough to think of her as my sister, nor for her to think of me as her brother.

"But ever since I was reassigned to Brigadier-General Brooks and stationed in Town in December, I have spent much of my time with my parents and, by extension, with Georgiana. At first, all I could see in her was the damage wrought by…" he glanced here at Elizabeth and Suzanna, "by her heartbreaks, but under mother's confident handling and my attempts to engage her, she began to bloom again. I began to see that although she can be reserved, her painful, awkward shyness was wearing away, leaving a quiet, steady, graceful, charming woman. She… I didn't realize what had happened at first, but she…"

"She fell in love with you," Elizabeth supplied. Mr. Darcy beside her was perfectly stiff and unmoving, but she squeezed his hand anyway, trying to reassure him.

"Yes," he sighed, trying to appear grave but unable to completely erase the smile from his face. "She was so quiet about it, but I have been around long enough to know the signs of a woman in love, and she is innocent enough still that she doesn't try to hide them. We have not spoken of it—I don't even believe she knows that I know how she feels—but I have no doubts."

"A schoolgirl infatuation," Mr. Darcy said through clenched teeth.

The colonel shifted a little uncomfortably. "I'd like to think not. She doesn't giggle at my presence the way a girl would. She doesn't gaze at me longingly then flounce away in a huff if I dance with another woman. Instead she simply lights up when she notices me in a room. She jumps to my defense when Mother criticizes. She encourages me when I am frustrated, and she knows when to scold me and leave me to my dark moods. She blushes when I kiss her hand, but she does not look away. She is simply the most tender, warm example of female affection that I have ever encountered."

"And you love her in return." Elizabeth didn't have to ask whether her statement was correct.

He sighed again, leaning his forehead against his outstretched fingertips. "I tried not to. For a time I thought I had succeeded. She is young, though not impossibly so, and I knew exactly what his reaction would be," he said, gesturing toward the still-stony Mr. Darcy, "considering that although I am well-connected, my inheritance is only moderate and I am untitled, not to mention that my career can be rather hazardous. I knew I was not an ideal candidate for her hand, and I had determined not to speak of my feelings, even once I realized that they had grown even without my consent. I care for her enough to let her go, if that is what is best for her."

He leaned forward then, his eager eyes on Elizabeth. "But by your reaction, Miss Franklin, are you implying that I would in fact be a reasonable candidate for Georgiana's hand?"

"Of course!" she assured him.

"Of course not!" Mr. Darcy thundered. They all stared at him.

"Why not?" Elizabeth and the colonel said in harmony.

"She is too young to make such a decision."

"She would not have to decide now," Elizabeth argued. "I suspect that the dear colonel will not even speak to her of his feelings until she is a little older, in case she changes her mind."

"Some months at least," he assured them both, "enough time for her heart to change if it is indeed still unsettled."

"But she might feel pressured, being as you are her relation, to accept your suit," Mr. Darcy said gruffly.

"Nonsense," Elizabeth countered. "He would never propose if he was not certain of her affections."

"Obviously," the colonel added.

"Your parents would never approve of her making such a match."

The colonel dismissed his words with a wave of his hand. "Hogwash! Any objections they might have for her sake would be made up for by my marrying well above my prospects and keeping Georgie's money—your mother's money—in the family."

"And her fortune does not present any sort of temptation to you?" Mr. Darcy asked sarcastically.

The colonel leveled a dark glare at his cousin, one that reminded Elizabeth once again that this man was probably a most formidable opponent on the battlefield. "I am going to assume that, suffering under the onslaught of concerns regarding your sister's future and your imminent fatherhood, you are not quite in your right mind. Otherwise, you would, I am certain, know me too well to harbor such a thought for even a moment. I have worked hard, as you well know, to never grow attached to a woman whose prospects could not keep both her and myself in the style to which we are accustomed, for both our sakes, but I have never claimed to love a woman for her money. Georgie's fortune is convenient, but my affection for her is entirely separate from my practicality."

Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam stared at each other for several seconds before Mr. Darcy finally sat back, scrubbing his face with his hand again. "Very well—I do know you, Rich, and I know that if you say you care for Georgie then you really do."

The colonel relaxed. "Thank you."

"You are still too old for her," Darcy added petulantly.

"Ha! Too old! I am only three years older than you, and I would guess that Georgie is only two or three years younger than Miss Franklin here."

"That is six extra years, and years matter."

"Your father was nearly forty when he married your mother, and I know that you have always aspired to have a marriage such as theirs. I am just over thirty, Will, and even if that were old, I would remind you that disparity of age does not mean disparity of temperament or interests."

"And the colonel's extra years should mean that he is neither so young as to undervalue your sister's tender affections nor so inexperienced as to find himself unable to provide for her," Elizabeth reminded him. "Besides, what other man who might compete for Georgiana's hand could you ever know as well as your cousin? You know his faults, yes, but you also know his virtues. Is he a gambler?"

"Not particularly," Mr. Darcy answered grudgingly.

"A spendthrift?"

"Not as far as I am aware."

"A rake, or a frequenter of houses of ill-repute?"

Mr. Darcy raised an eyebrow at his cousin, who released a deeply-offended guffaw and pointed back at him. "That was once, and it was not entirely my fault! You cannot hold such a night against me, not considering that you were there, too, well into your cups, singing at the top of your voice, and only miraculously escaped the clutches of that rouged—"

"Yes, yes!" Mr. Darcy said loudly, blushing deeply and glancing sideways at Elizabeth, who was shocked, and Suzanna, who was terribly amused. "I will admit that you are not given to vices. I know you will be a good husband to the woman who decides she can stand you."

"Even if that woman is your sister?" the colonel asked, his eyes bright.

Mr. Darcy crossed his arms over his chest, and it was all Elizabeth could do not to laugh aloud at the picture he made. She knew that if Lucille could see him now, she would take his likeness in an instant, perhaps emphasizing a pouting lower lip, and entitle it Always a boy, or Do we ever grow up?

"I suppose," he finally admitted.

The colonel beamed at Elizabeth, who smiled back encouragingly and hugged Mr. Darcy's hand against her chest. Mr. Darcy smiled at her ruefully before turning back to his cousin. "But I would need assurance of her affections, to see it with my own eyes before we could even begin to truly discuss the possibility of your union."

"All in good time," Colonel Fitzwilliam answered jovially. "Is the good hope of Georgie's future enough to settle your concerns regarding her, Miss Franklin?"

"If you are there to care for her, sir, then I have no doubt she can find happiness, if she will grasp it," she assured him.

"That means," Mr. Darcy said, turning to face her with a somewhat mischievous smile, "that we have managed to assuage your most pressing concerns, my love?" He raised her hand to his lips. "Am I free to continue my heady pursuit of your goodwill?"

She laughed, satisfaction, certainty, and something else, something undefined yet immensely powerful, bubbling up from inside her. She felt breathless with hope, full of a vision of future happiness that seemed far too good to be deserved.

"I suppose, sir," she said, containing her joy until it only leaked out into a small, helpless smile. "If you must."

Mr. Darcy laughed, along with the colonel and Suzanna, and Elizabeth marveled at how one of the darkest nights of the last half-year had been followed up by such a glorious morning. They spent a few more comfortable minutes discussing the colonel's assignment, the beauties of Surrey, and Suzanna's memories of the Countess of Matlock at school, before Suzanna rose to her feet and bid farewell to the gentlemen, claiming to have pressing business elsewhere before exiting graciously.

Colonel Fitzwilliam took the hint. "I should be going as well. My stay in Kent has already tried the patience of my commanding officer and my mother (although which of the two's displeasure is more dangerous, I am uncertain) for too long."

"Not to mention a young lady who will be most eager for your return," Elizabeth said warmly.

"I hope so," he said, giving her a charmingly affectionate smile that made him, for just a moment, particularly handsome.

Mr. Darcy muttered something dark under his breath, but his cousin only grinned wider at him.

"I am sorry to say it, Darcy, but I must have you know that I fear you no longer, not as long as I remain in your lady's good graces. You, my dear Miss Franklin, have my cousin wrapped around your little finger rather shockingly. Too see the two of you together, the way you rely on, reassure, and support one another, one would think you had already been married for several years. I insist that you heed his entreaties and marry him as soon as possible, not only for the sake of your child, but because I very much look forward to seeing what sort of man you can make of him in the years to come."

Elizabeth blushed, but she couldn't hold back her smile as he kissed her hand in farewell. "I thank you, Colonel, for your support and assistance. I hope that, whatever the future brings, we may always be friends."

His enthusiasm quieted, and he searched her expression for several seconds before replying, "You will always find a friend in me, Miss Franklin." Then he bowed, turned, and disappeared through the door.

"There have been many times in my life," Mr. Darcy said darkly, "when I have wished I had Fitzwilliam's manner and easiness, but never so much as I have right now. He has, in the course of a single afternoon, overcome the earnest and reasonable objections of his beloved's guardian and earned the steadfast admiration of a woman whose good opinion I value more than any other. If only my problems were so surmountable as his seem to be."

He had moved beside her, and it felt incredibly natural to reach out and take his hands. "You have my good opinion already, sir. I am every day more assured of the worth of your heart, of the value of what you offer me. But I must still ask for time. There is so much to feel, so much to understand within myself, and…"

"Of course," he said soothingly, smiling in reassurance. "Forgive me for my impatience. I am endlessly thankful for your continued forbearance and willingness to work toward overcoming the barriers between us."

"How long will you remain in Surrey? Did you complete all your business in Town?"

"I have done all I can, and now I will remain near you until we remove to Pemberley together, or at least until you send me away hopeless."

That thought tore at her heart, leaving her chest feeling constricted, and it took all her will to maintain her physical ease. To imagine a future alone was one kind of terrible, but to imagine the moment in which she denied his suit and sent him away from Surrey and his child, was an entirely different level of agony.

"Please…" she begged, gulping.

"Forgive me," he said swiftly, reaching one hand up to brush her cheek. "I didn't mean to pain you with my fears."

She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. "I don't want to hurt you."

He was silent for what felt like a long time before he answered, "I offer myself willingly, Elizabeth, and I will accept whatever choice you make. I even promise to survive it, although at what cost I cannot guarantee."

She opened her eyes, that powerful feeling of warmth and hope that had surged through her rising once again, feeling like a fountain that had burst forth inside her. His face was near, his eyes soft and open, unabashed in their hope and admiration.

She wanted to speak, to provide him reassurance, but his expression stilled her, an effect compounded more by the weight of his gaze and the realization of exactly how close they were standing. His eyes held hers for a long moment, a sweet tension building between them, and the fact that his gaze finally slid away only to focus on her mouth did nothing to release her.

Kiss me, she thought, her breath coming faster. Kiss me.

He slid his fingers down and let them brush over her lips, staring at them intently.

Her mind narrowed to a single point. Kiss me.

He swallowed convulsively.

Please.

He leaned forward, and she closed her eyes, as taut as a bowstring.

And then he stepped back, releasing his hold on her and standing further away than arm's length. She stared at him in surprise and then looked down and turned away as the humiliation of the moment swept over her. How could she have wanted him to kiss her so much? After all the trouble they'd caused themselves before, after all her commitments to herself and her promises to God, how could she still have wanted to kiss him so much?

And how could he have come so close and then rejected her?

"Elizabeth," he choked. She heard him stride wildly to the other side of the room, and she turned enough to watch his powerful, angry movements.

"I am sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have… I don't know why…"

"No!" he cried out, coming toward her again although not moving too close. "There is nothing for which you ought to apologize! I… Elizabeth, I love you so very much, and holding you so close, I lost my head for a moment. I have only ever intended to treat you with the greatest respect, but it is so difficult for me sometimes to treat you with restraint when memories of… of that night flood my mind. I am sorry to put us both into a situation of temptation." His eyes widened as he said the word both, realizing suddenly that he had not been the only one effected, and as he finished speaking, he looked at her with something like a plea.

"I cannot condemn you, sir," she said slowly, "for something of which we are both guilty. I know you would never…" She couldn't finish, but they both knew what she meant, and she thought they were probably both wondering exactly how true her statement would have been had she finished it.

At that moment, as if in answer to an unoffered prayer, there was a knock at the door, and Michael entered tentatively. "Forgive me, Miss Beth, but there was an accident in the kitchen, and Miss Cecily… has need of you."

"What has happened?" she asked, her fears for her friend sweeping away the last of her embarrassment. "Is she hurt?"

"She is right enough, Miss, though she took quite a scare. She thinks it may have started her pains."

"Oh!" She turned to Mr. Darcy. "I am supposed to be with her while she is lying in."

"She told me to tell you that she'll be fine for a time, that the pains are very mild and far apart, and you should finish with your friend before coming to her. She asked me to say it just like that, too: your friend."

Elizabeth smiled to herself and looked at Darcy, who cocked an eyebrow at her. "Tell her that my friend and I thank her very much and that I will join her soon."

"Very good, Miss. Sir."

He left, and Elizabeth wasn't sure whether to regret their interruption or not.

"Is it a good idea to have you in the room with her?" Darcy asked after a moment. "Won't it frighten you, especially if anything goes wrong?"

"Suzanna says not. She says that I will be afraid at first, but that watching someone firsthand will help teach me all the things I need not fear, all that is normal. Cecily is healthy and strong, all is well with the child, and the birth should be straightforward. Suzanna says that the best part is seeing the look on the mother's face when it is all over and she holds the child in her arms, that such an experience will teach me better than anything how worthwhile all the misery will be."

"And if something goes wrong?"

"That will be up to me. I can stay and help my friend, or I can leave and ask someone to replace me."

"You do not seem the type to leave," Darcy said, offering a small smile.

"I think, perhaps, you are coming to know me very well."

"I will go. This morning has been trying for you, and as little as I know about the process, I am aware that this may be a very long day and night for you. May I return tomorrow?"

"Of course!" she hastened to answer. "I should always be available during my leisure time, around three o'clock. I will send word if something keeps me still with Cecily."

He nodded and took her hand, kissing it gently. She couldn't help but watch his lips regretfully for just a moment, but then she chastised herself roundly and looked away.

"Am I forgiven, my love?" he asked.

"There is nothing to forgive," she assured him. "If there were, I would make sure you knew it."

He smiled fondly. "True enough. Good day."

"Good day, sir."

She moved to the window after he left and watched him stride across the front walk. He looked back toward the house and saw her there. She blushed a little at being caught, but she waved timidly. He grinned back at her, standing a little straighter, and tipped his hat. They both laughed, and he continued on, but she watched until he was out of sight.

She rushed out of the room and up the stairs, but she couldn't help but think of how close he'd come to kissing her, how much she'd wanted it, and how she'd felt as he held her in his arms. She had just reached the top of the staircase and begun to round the corner when she halted, frozen.

She was in love with him! The realization had come upon her so suddenly, and yet it was really just a recognition of what her feelings, that warm, heady rush of hope that had surprised her earlier, really meant. She was in love with him, and she could not doubt her feelings at all.

She sighed and began moving forward again. She was in love, yes, and there was reason to hope that their future would not require the sacrifice of others, but would it be enough? Could it ever be enough?