Lizzy in London?

And so the summer months passed very rapidly, filled with mishaps and adventures; trials and triumphs; and, occasionally, even scholarly attributes. Indeed, it passed entirely too quickly for some of the Netherfield and Longbourne inhabitants, for Darcy was as uneager to be parted from Elizabeth as she was to be parted from him.

And so, at the summer's accumulation, as the servant's began to prepare the Darcy's exit of Netherfield Hall, he took his complaint to his father.

As was customary, Mr. Darcy was seated at the handsome mahogany desk in the formidable study, pouring over some business papers through well-adjusted reading spectacles. He looked, perhaps, a little paler and weaker than usual, though, upon his son's entrance, he smiled brightly.

"Afternoon, Fitzwilliam," he said pleasantly, motioning towards the chair at his elbow, "what hails you to my little corner of the world?"

Darcy returned his smile, though his was wan and strained at the corners. "Oh, nothing of great importance, Father. Only to tell you Wickham has gotten into a bit of trouble with the cook, and Bingley cannot seem to find that novel he set such a store by."

Mr. Darcy removed his glasses and pushed the papers in a drawer. Drawing his fingers together studiously, he eyed his son in a peculiar fashion. "And is that all you've come to report to me? Eh, Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy avoided his father's placid gaze, shifting uncomfortably in his armchair. "Well, I, well…perhaps I had a, a little request…"

"Hmm…what, may I ask, is that request?"

"I suppose that you might think me a bit of a fool for asking, but I've been thinking…"

"A dangerous activity for any young man of these times…"

"…and wondering…"

"Oh, dear, Fitzwilliam, will you turn into one of those poetry-writing, daydreaming nitwits?"

"…that perhaps, if you do not object, and, well, if Mr. Bennet does not object…"

"Whatever has Mr. Bennet to do with the matter?"

Darcy eyed his fingers and took a deep breath; his father waited in quiet patience, eyeing the grandfather clock at the corner with relative indifference.

"I was wondering, thinking, hoping that, if it is as at all possible…"

"Anything is possible…"

"…well, I had hoped that Elizabeth might be able to accompany us to London this winter." There, Darcy smiled in triumph, he had said it. Though, most agitating, was the unbiased, blank expression on his father's face.

Indeed, for Mr. Darcy was showing no emotion, only staring stodgily off at the large painting that adorned the mantle-piece, crossing his arms over his chest, and reclining deeper into his large, rigid desk-chair. "Hmmm…" he appeared to be deep in thought.

"Oh, sir, but I have considered everything," continued Darcy, eager to prove his point, "and I think that it would not only be beneficial for us, but also for Elizabeth, because she could share a nurse and governess with Georgiana, and you always said she was very bright…would this not be a great opportunity for her?"

"I know you have good motives, boy. But is your request for Elizabeth's presence in London entirely of selfish nature?" Mr. Darcy spoke quietly, watching his son tentatively, as if unsure of his response.

Darcy himself seemed nervous as he replied, "Perhaps it is selfish, Father, but I do get rather glum in London," and then, blushing under his father's scrutiny, "even with Bingley and Wickham around. I do not mean to," here his blush deepened, "abuse them in any manner, but they do not equal Elizabeth Bennet's company."

"So," replied his father, "you prefer Lizzy's friendship to that of such old and dear acquaintances?" Rather than seem disappointed, he seemed amused.

Darcy again broke the gaze of his father. "Yes," he mumbled, "I suppose I do."

"I think I understand." Mr. Darcy's smile was warm. "While you do enjoy the friendships of the afore mentioned boys, somehow, they do little to either intellectually stipulate your mind or offer conflict and interest to your, dare I say, rather bland daily routine." He continued to watch his son's reactions carefully. "But, somehow, in coming to Hertfordshire, you discovered the one person who could both equal you in brains and wits, as well as offer exciting diversion. You found the one person who could broaden your imagination and offer, what I think you always sincerely desired, a little bit of everyday mischief?" He smiled again as his son nodded indistinctly. "And, of all things, this thrilling new person happened to be…a girl."

A short nod, and Mr. Darcy continued.

"My dear boy, I must admit I value Elizabeth's company as much as you do, but not only would it be near difficult to bring Lizzy to London, it would also highly be against propriety's standards." He watched the crestfallen expression on his son's face with a small amount of pity. "I know you shall miss her, my boy, but, consider, do you truly think Mr. Bennet would, for one moment, even think to release himself of his favorite child?"

Darcy shook his head slowly, maintaining a steady gaze on the tips of his fingers. "No, sir. I did not think of that."

His father brushed aside a stack of papers. "However," he said suddenly, making Darcy's ears pop up expectantly, "that does not overrule the fact that there may be a very slight chance we could procure her company…" he trailed off, watching as his son enthusiastically enquired after his solution. "That is," he continued on, "that Elizabeth return with us to London as a companion to your cousin, Anne de Bourg."

Darcy sucked in air quickly, his hopes dashed. "Aunt Catherine would never allow it," he mumbled quietly, staring disappointedly at the palms of his hands.

"Never allow it? Tsk..tsk.., lad. Is that how easily you give up?" Mr. Darcy curled up reflectively in his leather-backed armchair.

"Surely that is not the only alternative?"

Mr. Darcy sighed. "I am afraid so, my boy. The only one propriety would deem appropriate."

"Lady Catherine would never agree…"

"You would be surprised."

"Elizabeth would never agree…"

"Perhaps she would…"

They both lapsed into silence.

After a few moments spent in this fashion, Mr. Darcy abruptly began: "I know that you whole-heartedly desire Elizabeth's company, my boy. And that is exactly why I will go to whatever lengths to secure her presence."

The smile that broadened the features of his son was without description.

"No promises will I make, though," he added, quite rapidly,"your aunt is as strong-willed and stubborn as a three-legged mule, and Mr. Bennet can be quite possessive about those he loves most. I wouldn't wish you to get your hopes up."

"I shouldn't dare do that."

Mr. Darcy smiled kindly, watching the jubilant expression spread across his son's face, and relaxing. "Does an old fellow some good to watch the ever-bustling activity of the youth. I am glad to see you so excited."

"I have never been this excited about London before."

"No, no, I daresay you haven't."

Darcy shifted uneasily in his chair. "I do not think Lizzy will like it tremendously, though. She so much enjoys the countryside that I do believe she will detest the smoke and fog of the city."
"Knowing our own dear Elizabeth, I should think the activity would suit her."

"I will be glad to show her everything."

"Indeed, I know you shall."

"Thank you, Father."

"Naturally."