The next morning was a Sunday, the day Sturbridge was closed and I slept in, the Bennet's seemed to have no problem with this, but today I was awoken at seven sharp by the sound of a knock at my door.

"Miss Amelia," It was Mr. Darcy, "Breakfast is being served and then we are leaving for Meryton."

"I'll be out in just a minute." It didn't seem like it was time to meet Mr. Wickham yet, but this could be it and I will be ready. Today I dressed in one of Lizzie's gowns that reminded me of Emma Dashwood, a blue frock over a rather puffy button-down. When I went to go down stairs Mr. Darcy was still waiting for me and offered an arm to lead me down to the breakfast parlor.

"I've been thinking about what you said last night about loving to paint and draw," He spoke slowly and steadily as if he had thought over his request word by word, knowing his character he probably did. "And I was wondering if perhaps you might do a portrait for me, perhaps of Miss Elizabeth? I mean if it isn't to much trouble of course."

"Of course it isn't Mr. Darcy, though I am not sure if I could do any favours for her fine eyes. I feel a bit odd with you calling me Amelia and me still calling you Mr. Darcy, what is your christian name?"

"Ah, I-it's my Mother's maiden name."

"Oh, a lot of pain can come from that tradition. If I can tell you the name of someone who has the same problem to a worse extent will you tell your name?" he nodded, "How much do you know of the adventures of Lewis & Clark?"

"Nothing I'm afraid." He smiled down at me, he was remarkably tall

"They are two explorers hired by President Jefferson to explore and map the Louisiana Purchase, I was headed by William Clark and your opponent Meriwether Lewis."

"I must admit that mine is not that bad, Fitzwilliam James Alexander Darcy at your service Miss Towne."

"May I call you William then?"

"I'd like that." We reached the breakfast-parlor, where everyone but Jane sat surrounded by an assortment of pastries and hot chocolate. Both Caroline and Louisa looked positively shocked when I walked in, probably didn't like that Darcy had escorted me.

"Miss. Towne, you're wearing that to church." Louisa scoffed in my general direction and Caroline looked me judging up and down. They were all Protestant. The were all Anglican.

"Oh, I don't think I can go today, someone has to stay with Jane." I lied, Caroline saw through.

"I'm sure she'll understand you need time to worship, you can pray for her speedy recovery." She smiled sickly sweet.

"I really can't go, I'm not sure I'm even allowed to go."

"Of course you can, you were christened were you not?" Bingley chuckled

"Baptized actually." I flushed and looked down at my feet, anxious for their reaction, I didn't want everything to go to waste over something I care as little about as religion.

"You are Catholic." Darcy sighed, "Your family is French?"

"Irish." I stammered, "I hope this doesn't cloud your opinion of me."

"Of course it does!" Caroline shouted, Louisa looked the colour of a tomato "Charles, make her leave I don't want some heathen Catholic disgracing my home!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Caroline." William placed his hand on the small of my back as if to support me, he's defending me, maybe I have a new buddy "My Aunt Madeline Fitzwilliam is Scottish and as Catholic as the pope, I think the variety and honesty shown in Amelia is admirable. She will stay and tend to Miss Bennet while we go to church and you will treat her as the honest Christian woman that she is."

"Bravo, old chap," Bingley applauded, "You cannot possibly consider dear Lady Matlock a heathen can you?"

About half an hour after the kerfuffle they left for the church in Meryton and I went to check on Jane still asleep and sweating she looked as if her fever was at it's height, it would break tonight or tomorrow. I sat next to her, read aloud and talked and replaced the wet rag on her forehead, I kind of wish I could just give her ibuprofen and be done with it. I'm not sure whether Catholicism or modernism had distorted my view of the length of a decent Mass, but they weren't actually there long. A good Catholic (American and 1830s) mass lasted almost all day with a small break for lunch, they were gone for barely three hours? I was informed of their return first by the lady's maid assigned to Lizzie and me, Margaret, (Speaking of Margaret that's one thing I don't like about Austen's writing, she seems to find first names useless and/or improper so I will be telling you everyone's name, Mr. Hurst's is Bamber, Bamber Hurst, I am not joking.) and second by a now somewhat familiar four-tap knock at Jane's door.

"You can come in, William." I was slightly worried about this meeting, I mean he said he didn't care, but anyone who's read the books knows he's not exactly forthcoming with his true emotions. At this point in history England is at war with one of the most Catholic countries in Europe, he could have had family or friends who died in that war. Either way I would handle this calm, cool and collected.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I don't whether he was sad or scared, my emotion recognition systems weren't exactly firing on all cylinders, but they noticed that calm, cool and collected were out the window.

"Because it doesn't matter, it literally has no meaning." I stood up to face him, crossing my arms across my chest. "The only reason a Catholic would bother you was because the French are Catholics and I'm not French. The idea of an Orthodox wouldn't bother you because neither the Russians nor the Greeks have done nothing to you, but because I read from the same book as Napoleon I'm lesser. Religion is a reaction to revelation and the fact that we call ourselves the same thing doesn't mean he and I have the same reaction. By reading the same words we can be find different emotions by it and even different information, so it honestly does not matter."

"Yes, well...thank you." Ah shit, I've broken him, he hurried out the door and I didn't see him for the rest of the day.