Author's Note: Updates: Everyone who remarked that Lizzie was too forthcoming about the contents of the letter were correct, and I have updated this chapter to reflect that! Now, Elizabeth is keeping the most important bits to herself :) TY: Twilight Fan Too & Guest!

Thank you so much for reading my WIP, Mr. Darcy's Cipher, Book 1 of the Spies and Prejudice series. This book is being shared with the hope and plan of being professionally published in ebook format. Feedback has been awesome!

In this chapter - Assembly: The Aftermath

As always, I sincerely appreciate your feedback and hope that you enjoy this variation! This is my first Pride and Prejudice book, it is not yet professionally edited, and details within the book may change as the story evolves. With that caveat, I sincerely hope you love reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it (which is a WHOLE LOT!)

Chapter 10

The following morning, the post came with troubling news.

Mr. Bennet went white as his daughter read out the letter. "Mr. Dowding, passed on?"

"He appears to have suffered a sudden apoplexy," Elizabeth explained.

"We were at Eton together. He was always in vigorous health."

Those boyhood days were at some remove from the present for Mr. Bennet, though Elizabeth would not be forward enough to say it outright. Before his eyes had begun to fail, Mr. Bennet had been an excellent marksman as well.

Mr. Bennet sighed. "I suppose the funeral has already passed."

"It has. This missive is more concerned with Mr. Dowding's work. They are concerned his keys made have been compromised." Mr. Dowding was more than merely an old friend, he was also one of the chief encoders for the navy. He created the keys that Lord Nelson and others, less famous used to hide the coordination of overall fleet movements. Rumor had it Lord Wellington had pressed the navy to use Mr. Dowding's services. Now, with Dowding dead, another encoder would be needed. "They are asking we create a series of codes and keys to aid our work on the peninsula!"

"This is a challenging request..." Mr. Bennet mused. He tapped the pad of his index finger over his lips. "We will have to create something unique, but accessible. And it will not simply be one request. They will want new keys periodically."

"It is our duty to accept," Elizabeth said, relishing the opportunity.

After some thought, Mr. Bennet agreed.

"Lizzie! By heavens, where is that girl?" Mrs. Bennet pushed opened the study door and strode in. "Mrs. Lucas is here. Mr. Bennet, you simply will have to find yourself another assistant for the next hour or so. Lizzie, we need you."

Elizabeth gave her father helpful helpless look and stood. She did wish to see Charlotte, and share her experience both with Mr. Darcy and with Mr. Wickham in the confidence of her best friend, but it felt like a betrayal to leave important work on done. "I will return as soon as I'm able."

"I am not such much of an invalid is that. Encoding is more a matter of the mind than the eyes, so be assured, progress will be made by the time you have returned."

Elizabeth nodded, though his assurance sting. She had hoped to be of more value than a pair of eyes to her father, and believed herself enable the cipher, but of course, in many ways, Mr. Bennet saw Elizabeth as an extension of himself. And perhaps there was some truth to it. When she married, her work with him would take a distant second to her family and responsibilities as lady of household.

When Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet returned the sitting room, Lady Lucas and her daughter, Elizabeth's best friend Charlotte, were seated. Charlotte sipped a cup of morning cocoa. "Lizzie!"

Elizabeth crossed the room and sat beside her friend. They exchanged excited pleasantries while their mothers went over the previous night's assembly in immense detail.

"You began the evening well, Charlotte," Mrs. Bennet said. She was not truly speaking to Charlotte, but instead to Mrs. Lucas, and because of that did not await an answer from Charlotte instead continued on, "You were Mr. Bingley's first choice."

Charlotte hesitated, glancing at her mother, before responding. "Yes – – but he seemed to like his second better."

It was a dance of pleasantry and domination, one Mrs. Bennet excelled at. Elizabeth, in contrast, found the whole thing a bit tedious. It was clear to everyone that Mr. Bingley's preference was for Jane, and the conflict between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham had been far more interesting.

"Oh! – – You mean Jane, I suppose – –." Mrs. Bennet artfully stumbled in her speech.

"How is do you think Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham are acquainted?" Elizabeth cut in.

Charlotte leaned towards Elizabeth. "Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham, acquainted?"

Mrs. Bennet laughed. "Two more different gentleman I cannot scarce imagine! Mr. Wickham is the sun and Mr. Darcy, and angry cloud."

Charlotte whispered, "Had you a special interest in Mr. Wickham?"

"No! Certainly not. I just wondered at Mr. Darcy's expression when he and Mr. Denny entered." Elizabeth kept Mr. Darcy's warning about Mr. Wickham to herself. Having no true grounds to trust Mr. Darcy, and no acquaintanceship beyond an admittedly pleasant dance with Mr. Wickham, Elizabeth would not endanger either man's reputation. But she hadn't imagined the reaction either. She distinctly recalled Mr. Darcy's flush and Mr. Wickham's eyes widening as his skin grew most awkwardly pale.

"Expression?" Mrs. Bennet said. "I saw no expression! What expression are you speaking of Lizzie? Out with it?"

Elizabeth shook her head. She had no desire to give her mother further ammunition for her gossip. "I just—I am probably mistaken."

"Perhaps Mr. Darcy had a spell of gas," Mrs. Bennet suggested.

Kitty raised her handkerchief to her mouth and smothered a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "He was paying special court to the Negus and pastry throughout the entire affair! And his manners, so formal and unwelcoming! Why, he spent close to a half hour with Mrs. Long and did not say a word!"

"Are you certain, mother?" Jane interjected. "I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her.''

"Aye - because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he could not help answering her; - but she said he seemed very angry at being spoke to.''

"Miss Bingley told me,'' said Jane, ``that he never speaks much unless among his intimate acquaintance. With them he is remarkably agreeable.''

Jane truly did see the best in everyone. And perhaps there was something to it. Mr. Bingley had been perfectly amiable, and somehow he and Mr. Darcy maintained a close enough friendship for Mr. Bingley to invite Mr. Darcy to Netherfield as his guest.

"I just wish Mr. Darcy hadn't slighted you so, Eliza," Charlotte said, using the nickname she had agreed suited Elizabeth best when both were twelve. "And then, not five minutes later, he asks you to dance again. It makes no sense."

"He was jealous," Mary said, looking up from her book. "Jealousy is a sin and a fire in the blood."

Elizabeth doubted Mr. Darcy was capable of mustering a fire in his blood, no matter his sins. Especially after his cruel rejection of her, "I have no interest in a woman who is slighted by other men."

No, jealousy had not played into his reversal. It had been something else, some history between him and Mr. Wickham. The same history that led him, inexplicably, to warn Elizabeth off of the man even as he stomped viciously on her sense of womanly pride.

"Mr. Wickham did ask you to dance, once and properly," Miss Charlotte said.

"Him and Mr. Denny," Elizabeth said. She studied her friend carefully at the suggestion of Mr. Denny. He had seemed a solid sort, but possessed of a sense of humor. Perhaps Charlotte might discover some deeper affection for him?

"Oh, but that odious Mr. Darcy," Lydia said with a bit too much relish. "To be considered merely passable, I do not know how you could bear it."

"None of us here place any stock in Mr. Darcy's words." Mrs. Bennet said, the high pitch of her voice hardening a little as she glared at her youngest daughter.

Lydia, not used to her mother's disapprobation, shrank in on herself, staring down at her hands. "I only meant to remark that Mr. Wickham was the more discerning of the two."

"Was he?"

"And Mr. Wickham is so very handsome. Far more so than Mr. Darcy," Lydia said. "Mr. Wickham has hair like the sun! We had a loveliest dance, him and I, and he made the kindliest remarks about my dress and bonnet! I had hoped he would ask me again, but it would have been improper, considering he had not yet been introduced to our father. You are so lucky Jane, to have a chance to be danced with twice!"

Mrs. Bennet said, "We have no knowledge of Mr. Wickham's situation, Lydia. He may look fine in his regimentals but possess no more than a pauper's income. Now Mr. Bingley, he is a fine and responsible young gentleman, did seem to have some admiration for Jane. Indeed, I rather believe he did – – I heard something about it – –."

"Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson?" Charlotte interjected.

Elizabeth squeezed Charlotte's hand. The rightful topic of this conversation was Jane and her prospects, and Elizabeth herself had forgotten it in her curiosity about Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy. That did not speak well for Elizabeth sisterly affection, which was shameful. "What did you hear, dear Charlotte? Do tell us."

"Yes, do tell us," Mrs. Bennet said, her voice syrup sweetness again.

Charlotte explained that Mr. Robinson had asked Mr. Bingley how he was enjoying the Meryton assembly, and which of the ladies he thought was the prettiest, and Mr. Bingley's immediate answer to the last question had been, "Oh! The eldest Bennet beyond a doubt. There cannot be two opinions on that point."

As Mrs. Bennet attempted, with little fervor, to demur, Jane's eyes brightened, and the corners of her lips rose. Of the Bennet sisters, Jane had always been the most astute at maintaining her composure, and even in this moment of glorious happiness, she still kept her reaction within the bounds of propriety. Elizabeth envied that.

Elizabeth was too sharp in her emotions and insights rein herself in so well. As the conversation continued, Elizabeth found her thoughts drifting back to the mystery of Mr. Wickham.

In truth, Elizabeth should have been delighted at his company, but something in his demeanor had put her on edge. Maybe it was merely Mr. Darcy's warning, though a warning for Mr. Darcy ought not have held much weight with her. Or perhaps it was merely the ease with which he bestowed compliments. Elizabeth had a certain wariness of easily won praise.

True, she preferred them to Mr. Darcy's scorn and insult, but his words were pleasantries, nothing more. The only moment he had exhibited a true interest in what Elizabeth had to say was when he asked her, with all casualness, how long she had been acquainted with Mr. Darcy.

It was all very troubling. And with the letter, its code and warning, Elizabeth couldn't let the subtle animosity between the two men alone. Had Mr. Darcy taken the letter to protect his sister? And how did Mr. Wickham figure into it all?

Elizabeth resolved to discuss it with Charlotte. Her best friend did not think through things swiftly, but she was thorough, and she often noticed things that Elizabeth overlooked.

They gossiped a while longer, and Elizabeth, seeing both their mothers were well occupied with their analysis of events, begged a moment with Charlotte alone. "I should like to show her my new bonnet," she offered as an excuse.

"New bonnet? Is that the one you purchased a fortnight ago, before Mr. Bingley's arrival?"

"I have not seen it," Miss Charlotte interjected. "I would very much like to mother,"

"Go on, then," Mrs. Lucas waved them both off.

When Elizabeth and Charlotte were in Elizabeth and Jane's room, Charlotte asked, "So, what is really troubling you, Lizzie? I should not have thought you would allow Mr. Darcy's behavior to weight so heavily on your person?"

"It hasn't. Mr. Darcy has been a prat since he first stepped into my father study with his letter."

"Letter? What letter?"

Elizabeth explained about Mr. Darcy and his sister's letter, avoiding mention of the second cipher and the danger posed to the Regent.

"Remember the butterflies? Lord Cunningham? That is so odd!"

"Yes. And Mr. Darcy does not believe it to be an accurate deciphering at all! But these were Mr. Reginald Darcy's last words to his beloved sister, and I fear Mr. Darcy will not allow Miss Darcy to read her brother's letter at all."

"He is awfully cold," Charlotte said. "Though as her guardian, he has the right to keep such things from her. Especially if he is fears Miss Darcy having an improper relationship with this Lord Cunningham."

"Why would Miss Darcy's own brother ask her to deliver a letter to someone who was pushing an improper suit?" Elizabeth shook her head. "That would make little sense."

"You should write to Miss Georgiana," Charlotte suggested.

"Write her? I cannot just pen the entire story out in the letter openly."

"It does not seem much of a story, but if you insist upon secrecy, then write to her in the code you deciphered. You will learn if she can understand it and what her response will be."

Elizabeth did her bottom lip. It might work. She could at least test the initial code, and explain to her the initial cipher if nothing else. If nothing else, Elizabeth could get some hint as to the identity of this Lord Cunningham."

"Charlotte, you are brilliant!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

Charlotte laughed. "Hardly brilliant. It just seemed the simplest solution. After all, if Mr. Darcy had not interfered, then Miss Georgiana Darcy would have had letter in hand, and all would be well."

Elizabeth nodded. The letter had been addressed to Miss Georgiana Darcy. It was not a betrayal to ensure the intended recipient learned something of the contents, especially not with so much at stake. She would say nothing of the threat to the Regent. If this Lord Cunningham had been the intended recipient of the original letter, then Elizabeth would have her father correspond with Lord Cunningham and hopefully gain some insight as to how, or if, he was serving the crown.

Decided, Elizabeth walked to the foot of her bed and opened up the chest. "You should at least take a brief look at this bonnet, Charlotte, in case somebody asks. And more importantly, what did you think of Mr. Denny?"

Miss Charlotte's cheeks flushed, and she said, "Put the bonnet on, so I might see how fetching it looks upon your head."

After the Lucas's left, Elizabeth made her way down to the study and quickly penned a letter in Reginald Darcy's code to Miss Darcy. Though Elizabeth knew she was in the right, it still felt improper, writing a young lady without even making her acquaintance. Yet the more quickly she opened the conversation, the more quickly she could determine how best to handle the younger Mr. Darcy's warning.

It was for the good of country and also, for the good of Mr. Reginald Darcy's memory. The apparently random nature of his death, considering the warning he had mailed out prior to it, seemed implausible. Perhaps it would help assuage Miss Georgiana's grief to know that her brother's death had not been due to some cool caprice of fate, but instead, a sacrifice to preserve everything they held dear. Their home. Their nation's sovereignty.

When Elizabeth had finished, she signed the letter Miss Elizabeth Bennet and added it to the pile to post, slipping the letter between three other envelopes.

From there, she looked over her father's notes for encoding. His hand was remarkably smooth, considering his failing eyesight, though some of the lines of script ran together or off the page, depending on how well he had judged the remaining space. Elizabeth went through the papers, making suggestions and notations of her own.

Only when the post had been taken up to mail did the sense of guilt and nervousness begin to ease.

XYXYXYX

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter at least as much as I loved writing it! If so (or not) let me know! And if I screwed up something majorly, drop me a PM.

Best,

Violet