A/N: Happy Lizzy and timunderwood9 pointed out that it would take multiple days to get to London from Pemberley. Thank you for the info! My ten minutes of Google research [blush] did not give me any clues but I suspected that I undershot. I apologize for my inaccuracy and I beg my lovely readers to suspend disbelief: in this story it will take one long day.

Recap: Darcy and Elizabeth receive letters saying that Mr. Collins will not marry Kitty Bennet and he has abducted Miss Ann de Bourgh with the intent of elopement. Darcy says awful things to Elizabeth. Darcy apologizes for said awful things. Elizabeth does not accept said apology. Georgiana and Elizabeth flee to Lambton on their way to London where Darcy intercepts them. Darcy says he will accompany them to London.

Chapter 25: The Carriage Ride

When Elizabeth and her sisters were younger they had staged countless theatricals, much to the chagrin of their mother who could not see a marketable talent in the exercise. Elizabeth would write the tragedy or comedy, Jane and Kitty would put together appropriate costumes and the five sisters would enact the scenes. Fifteen-year-old Elizabeth was attracted to the tragedy. Her heroines were beautiful but ill-fated. Her heroes were handsome and always ten minutes too late to save the heroine; dismal endings abounded.

At seventeen years she discovered she preferred the comedy. Whether farce or satire, she wrote about the foibles of human life from an aspect that could not be called charitable. Her sisters complained. Instead of romantic, captivating scenes they were compelled to bring to life silly, seemingly inconsequential women and men who may have been kings and queens in name but bumbled terribly and made ridiculous mistakes.

At twenty years Elizabeth no longer wrote scenes for her sisters to enact but could not help but observe the strains of tragedy and comedy in her current situation. Sitting in a closed carriage in late December with a man who she wished death, or at the very least ill-health as her Christian heart would not permit her to go so far as wishing death. As the carriage bumped and jostled, she thought of the great comedy of this moment: she and Mr. Darcy were both the ill-fated lovers and the patently ridiculous.

Elizabeth studied his face as he looked at the window. He held himself stiffly erect next to Georgiana, his thick black coat bunched at the arms and his waist. They each had luxurious blankets that swathed their lower bodies and Mr. Darcy's was a heavy grey. She was discomfitted by their proximity. She felt like an exhibit on display. His eyes had been on her for several minutes before settling for a constant view out of the little window to his left. For not the first time she wondered how had they come to this point.

Georgiana's eyes darted from her brother to her friend. She could not think of any subject of discourse which may be deemed wholly safe. This was much too confining an area to have barbs thrown back and forth and she only wished for peace. Her romantic heart could not be quelled and she could not help from imagining her brother prostrating himself before Elizabeth, declaring his undying love and winning hers in return. Her young soul still yearned for a speedy and joyous resolution. She envisioned numerous reconciliations and as the rocking of the carriage played a steady rhythm on her bones, Georgiana found her eyelids heavier than she thought they could be. She soon fell into a slumber, leaning against the carriage wall and dreaming of happy endings.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy croaked, his voice unused thus far. Elizabeth's eyes slid to his own. She had been staring at his mouth, watching it curl and relax with unspoken thoughts. She had been amusing herself by trying to divine his reverie. The trail from Darcy's mouth to his eyes was not a long one and she was embarrassed by the quick journey. She did not speak but rose her eyebrows in question. Her silence irked Darcy; he could not help the reflex and he chided himself. "We shall stop and allow the horses to rest at Milton. Perhaps you would like to pen a message to your sister in London. I would imagine you are eager to communicate with her. I will send it express so it arrives to her residence even before our own arrival."

"That is most kind of you," Elizabeth said. It was not disingenuine. She was grateful for this suggestion. A few more minutes passed as she gathered her thoughts about what she would say to Jane. She was more restless for information than to give it. How was Kitty? How was their mother? Had anything been discovered about Mr. Collins?

She recalled her second purpose for arriving in London: to escape the man sitting across from her. Thankfully her sudden appearance in Town could be justified by Kitty's cancelled nuptials and the disappearance of Mr. Collins and no one would need to know of their altercation. Elizabeth spent some time considering this idea. Would she have discovered Mr. Darcy's true nature if Mr. Collins had not kidnapped his cousin? She reminded herself that Mr. Darcy was just as disagreeable and rude to her in Hertfordshire and decided it was likely.

"I think I would like to go to my sister Jane after I have had a chance to rest. When do you think that would be possible?"

Darcy rubbed a finger against the glass pane. "We will arrive at Darcy house very late this evening. I do not see why we would not be able to deliver you for a call tomorrow. Perhaps you should ask your sister what time is suitable to visit?"

The words did not escape her notice. A call. A visit. He did not expect her to leave Darcy house immediately as was her plan. Elizabeth must correct this assumption; she would go to the Gardiners' to collect her sister and on to home. It did not matter if he did not wish for the distance as she most ardently did. They must be parted and soon. She felt herself in danger of thinking about his declaration. She could not even consider it! Elizabeth looked at him under heavy lashes and found herself on the receiving end of an intense gaze. His mouth was tight, jaw clenched, but eyes warm and open. He did not look foreboding but she was still upset by the depth of emotion she detected in his mien.

Darcy indeed watched her carefully. He was not unaware of her appraisal of him though he was unsure how his attentions were being received. He was hungry for any emotions she may bestow upon him as it gave him another chance: to converse, to demonstrate his gentility, to ascertain if there was hope for them. He longed for opportunities; opportunities that could sprout wings and be the dove of peace between the two of them. His lips threatened to show his amusement at his droll, metaphoric language. Better I not say this aloud. Fitzwilliam would spear me alive if he heard such flowery talk. I barely recognize myself in it.

Two vertical lines, about two centimeters in length appeared between her puckered brows. She did not appear angry, perhaps just anxious or confused. I must hear her speak. I will solicit her opinion. He chose a subject he felt she would speak on. "Miss Bennet, you are well-versed in my sister's mind and heart. I would like to hear your opinion on something. How do you think this complication will affect her? It is not dissimilar to her own... complication."

An eyebrow rose in response. "I suppose," Elizabeth answered hesitantly. She did not know what to make of his term: complication. Harsh words rested in her throat: disaster, calamity, catastrophe. Those events could be irrevocable. A complication was softer; a hurdle to be cleared.

"I would really like to hear what you think. Please tell me."

Elizabeth frowned at his petition. She could not deny him but it felt oddly forced and she detested speaking of the occasion which wrought discord between them. "She has expressed nothing to me, sir, but I understand your meaning. It could remind her of her own situation with Mr. Wickham."

Darcy nodded. "Though we do not know the particulars I am afraid the situation could be similar: flattery on a weak mind." He glanced at the sleeping form of his sister. "Said lovingly, of course."

"Of course," Elizabeth agreed. She imagined Mr. Wickham flattering Lydia or Kitty. They would have followed him to the ends of the earth, that silver-tongued serpent. Think of Charlotte, her mind declared. And Charlotte is so steady and reasonable. "Georgiana is now a strong creature but I suppose none of us know when something unexpected may take hold of our minds in a harmful manner. I suppose we must each be vigilant of her behavior."

Darcy nodded, pleased by her engagement but unsure how to proceed. Silence drifted around them in the cold carriage, punctuated by Georgiana's muffled snores. "I am pleased you wore a scarf," he blurted.

Elizabeth was so taken by surprise at his non sequitur that she did not respond immediately. "I thank you, sir," she replied awkwardly.

Darcy tugged at his coat sleeves. "I mean to say, the weather is cold and a scarf is so prudent for a young woman." He looked at Elizabeth who still looked nonplussed. "I... the weather has been very cold, has it not? Snow... Does it snow in Hertfordshire? Of course it must, must it not?" He searched her face, begging a response. "And your scarf is very... colorful. It is green and yellow, like fresh lilies or some banal flower. It matches your dress and travelling coat very well." He paused again looking around the carriage. He cleared his throat and raked one hand through his hair. "Did you knit it? Or stitch it? Please excuse, but I do not know the correct term. Is it yours or Georgiana's?"

Elizabeth threw up her hands. "Mr. Darcy, what are you about?"

Darcy spluttered, "I do not have the pleasure of understanding your question, madam," though he believe he did understand her perfectly well.

"You are speaking of inane topics, including the weather. Fitzwilliam Darcy does not speak in inanities and does not talk of the weather."

"Perhaps he does," Darcy snipped. He slumped against the wall of the carriage, stretching his legs. It was exhausting to sit erect and proper for this long. She used my full name, he noted.

Elizabeth nearly laughed. "Shall you next tell me you have always desired to wear a violet coat with a pale blue waistcoat? When I arrive at Darcy House shall I meet your pet pugs Alexander and Hermes who you dote upon and allow to drink from your tea cup? These images are as incongruous with the man seated before me as your last five minutes speech." She smiled broadly, shaking her head.

Darcy narrowed his eyes. "I was being solicitous."

Elizabeth could not stop a giggle escaping. "Oh, yes. Very solicitous, I agree. It was absurd. That is not you."

"It could be," he said quietly, turning to look at the window.

Elizabeth suspected he was pouting about her laughter. "I much prefer the man who abhorred disguise."

He turned quickly back to her. "You hated that man."

"I did not." At his look she amended, "No, you are correct. I did, but there were times in which I did not. That man conversed with me about more than the weather. He did not ask me for a catalog of my accomplishments. He challenged me. He allowed me to tease him and understood when I was doing so. That man allowed me to befriend his most treasured possession. He took me on my first sleigh ride and fetched me a candle so I could continue a silly tradition." Elizabeth quieted, lost in the recollections.

"He abused a lady while in her presence and to others when she was absent. He has tried to dictate this young woman's marriage partners... repeatedly. He invited this exquisite lady to his home for Christmas under false pretences and behaved reprehensibly," Darcy whispered. "He is a scoundrel."

"He loves his sister fiercely. He would do anything to protect her," Elizabeth countered.

"He hurt those whom he loved, perhaps beyond repair. He would do anything..." Darcy's voice choked but he continued, "anything to show that he recognizes his failings and strives to be the gentleman that his sister and... others wish him to be." He looked at her, eyes blazing. "I will succeed, Miss Elizabeth. I will show what I really am. It is not what you have seen, I promise you, and I will not rest until you have witnessed it for yourself."

Elizabeth stared at him, eyes wide. Was this another example of his excessive pride or was Mr. Darcy going to pursue her? The thought, after all they had been through, was unfathomable.

Elizabeth was shaken awake by a gentle hand. "Miss Bennet," the hushed voice of Mr. Darcy called. Her eyes opened wide as she recognized his voice and she struggled to an upright position. "We have arrived." He gestured to the open carriage door and she espied a footman holding open the door as well as a score of servants lining the few stairs to the large double doors of Darcy House. Elizabeth exited the carriage and waited at the top of the stairs.

Mr. Darcy tried without success to rouse Georgiana and finally took her awkwardly into his arms and handed her to the waiting footman as he disembarked. The footman handed her back to her brother who scooped her up once more. "At times she is so much like the child I remember," he whispered to Miss Bennet as he passed.

"Miss Bennet," a voice called. Farnum, the butler, extended folded parchment to Elizabeth who accepted it eagerly.

Darcy turned at the exchange as they entered the large corridor and headed to the family wing. "Please let me know when your sister would like you for a visit."

There was that word again: visit. Elizabeth made to correct Darcy but he nodded to her and called goodnight as he walked Georgiana to her room. Mrs. Hartfield, the housekeeper, gestured to Elizabeth and lead her down a candle-lit hallway in the opposite direction. When she arrived she opened the letter from Jane.

Dear Elizabeth,

I received your letter that you will be in Town shortly and confirm that I also received an express from Longbourn yesterday. The news is most extraordinary and it has upset me and my Aunt Gardiner most dreadfully. Poor Kitty! And our poor mother! However, it puts my mind at ease to know you will be in the same locality as me for we are to stay in Town. Uncle Gardiner received a missive from our father today. He says that he has heard that Mr. Collins was meant for London but he does not plan to travel to Town to seek justice. He says that we are to stay in London with our uncle and should Mr. Collins be discovered, assist our uncle with any negotiations that might be made on Kitty's behalf.

I found this most unusual and our uncle rolled his eyes in the telling of this. He suspects that our father never wanted Kitty to marry Mr. Collins and does not anticipate any negotiations to take place. I am sure that father would not have felt so ungenerous to his own kin but I confess I do not know what to make of his request. I cannot disobey him and so we shall stay in London, Elizabeth.

Our father did not write of Kitty's welfare but did mention that our mother is confined to her bedroom. I hope that Mary is not too burdened with her care as I imagine Kitty is also inconsolable and Lydia will be unable to attend to them both.

I have another piece of news to relate that has not yet reached you in Derbyshire. Charlotte Lucas will be coming to stay at the Gardiners' residence in Gracechurch Street on the twenty-ninth of December. She will be accompanied by Sir William. An aunt in Yorkshire has found her a position in the home of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Milford of North Simon-on-Meeth. They will stay for a period of one week to purchase attire appropriate for Charlotte and to perhaps attend some amusements before she moves to the North.

My aunt is experiencing some distress at our upcoming guests because it means that she will be unable to host you as well. Sir William is set up in the other guest suite and I will be sharing my room with Charlotte. Do you think Mr. and Miss Darcy will mind very much to host you until the departure of the Lucases? Please come to Gracechurch Street as soon as you are able. Any time is agreeable. I have missed you terribly sister and have so much to tell you.

Fondly,

Jane Bennet

Elizabeth straightened her bonnet in anticipation as the carriage slowed before number twenty-four, Gracechurch Street. She glanced reflexively at her companion, Mr. Darcy, who was himself tugging at his coat sleeves. She could not help but chuckle at his uneasiness. He would not even be accompanying her to the door and yet he seemed prodigiously unsettled. He was to leave her at the steps and return for her in an hour. He had assured her that he needed to meet with various personages to discuss the complication and would then need to return home to see to correspondence. Elizabeth felt he was taking her on this errand unnecessarily but he went to such pains to make it seem like it was on his way that she did not argue. Georgiana had begged to come with her to be introduced to her "delightful aunt" and her "precious sister" but Elizabeth thought it wise to wait for a less delicate time to make the introductions. They were sure to only discuss the jilt, abduction, and supposed elopement. Georgiana instead sent her favorite maid Lucy to accompany Elizabeth and her brother.

"Do you have everything, Miss Bennet?" Darcy asked.

"I do, sir," she replied, coloring. She was put off by his attentiveness.

He nodded and exited the open door of the carriage, startling her. She watched him wave off the footman and he reached in to grasp her hand. She stretched it towards him and was gently pulled out of the carriage. She felt a hand steady her as she reached the bottom of the small set of steps attached to the coach. Before she could thank him, both of the hands were removed and he spoke. "I will depart after I have been assured that they are here to receive you."

Elizabeth nodded and climbed the steps to her aunt and uncle's townhome. The footman from the carriage gave the knocker a few raps and Elizabeth and her maid stood in the doorway. She could not help but look over her shoulder at him. He stood tall and proud, resplendent in a dark blue coat and tan breeches. His tasseled Hessians were impeccable. He looked severe and powerful, his lips in a tight line. Ever so slightly a smile stole about his lips and he tipped his hat to her as the door opened. She turned to face her relations' butler and requested admittance to the house.

The reunion between the sisters was magnificent. There were many tears but unlike the noisy theatrics of the younger Bennets, Elizabeth and Jane cried soft tears of genuine fondness, relief at the end of their separation, and sorrow for the current situation of their family.

There was no more information to be had from Longbourn and so the sisters and their aunt assembled their knowledge and conjectured as to what was to be done. "Mr. Darcy is meeting with his men right now to determine the best course to find them," she reported.

"I am sure that he is excessively worried about his poor cousin, Miss de Bourgh," Jane remarked. "Are they close?"

Elizabeth swallowed, the act more difficult than it should be. "I do not know."

The ladies looked up as a knock was heard at the front door. A gentle bell tinkled and Mrs. Gardiner rose expectantly. "Oh dear, Jane. Do you suppose it is him?" The two women exchanged glances and then both looked toward Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked at her sister, who was blushing becomingly. "Him? Now does my Jane have a gentleman calling on her? Is it that son of the earl? I thought him most disingenuine."

Jane shook her head. "It is not, Lizzy. I only recently met another gentleman and he has called on us a couple times."

Their aunt straightened her skirts and tsked. "He has called every day for nearly a week. He spent both the eve and Christmas day with us. Elizabeth," she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "I think you will quite agree that he is altogether a charming young man."

Elizabeth forgot all of her worries from the past few days, thrilled with this information. "And you like him?" she hissed, aware that the gentleman may be just outside of the door.

Jane nodded fervently. "I do, but..." She glanced at the door.

Elizabeth's face split into a dazzling grin and she sat up straighter, prepared to meet her sister's beau.

"Mr. Bingley, ma'am," the butler intoned.

Elizabeth had barely time to register the name before the man himself stepped into the room. She felt her pulse race and heat creep up her neck to rest across her face.

Bingley saw Elizabeth at the same moment and paled considerably. "Miss Bennet?" he whispered in confusion, his voice cracking.

"Yes?" two voices answered.