"Lizzy! Lizzy, are you listening to me?" Mrs. Bennet scolded, exasperated by the inattentiveness of her wayward daughter.

"Yes, Mama," she answered, eventually tearing her eyes from the house to reassure her mother that she had received her dressing down with all the solemn humility required. Unconsciously leaning a bit more heavily on the arm of her husband, his presence buoyed her as she battled for control, drawing from him the strength needed to face this moment.

Finally turning her attention to the gentleman, Mrs. Bennet was visibly surprised to be greeting once more the taciturn gentleman from Derbyshire, but collecting herself, she managed to offer an icy, "Mr. Darcy, you are welcome as well."

Pulling his eyes from Longbourn's master, he bowed slightly in acknowledgement, offering only, "Mrs. Bennet." Then remembering his manners, proceeded to greet each of his three new sisters in turn. But his attention could not be held for long as his gaze kept returning to Mr. Collins, who had yet to move from the doorstep of the manor house.

At long last, Mrs. Bennet took note of her daughter's hand upon the gentleman's arm, her expression shifting rapidly into one of excited wonder; the gentleman who had been the recipient of an icy greeting but a moment prior now receiving a congenial smile and chipper tone as she asked, "What is this I do see?"

As the time had arrived to share her news, and despite the irrepressible trembling still wracking her frame, Elizabeth smiled happily as she shared, "Mama, I have come bearing you a wondrous surprise."

With her eyes flicking briefly towards the door, her nerves grew as she watched Mr. Collins now slowly approach, well within range to hear her announcement. Feeling her husband press her hand in quiet reassurance, she returned her attention to the excited countenance of her mother, announcing, "I am married."

"Married!" Crying to heaven, Mrs. Bennet's excitement could not be contained as she turned to her daughters, still gathered about them, "Do you hear that, girls?! My Lizzy is married! Oh, Mr. Collins! Mr. Collins, you must come quick! Lizzy has returned to us, and as a married woman!"

But the rector's response could not compare with that of Mrs. Bennet, for his complexion seemed to pale further still, his countenance struggling to overcome his shock. When at last he drew near, he could at the very least manage a weak smile, his hands twisting anxiously, his words fumbling as he attempted to greet her. "My... my dear c-cousin, how… b-blessed we are to welcome you home."

However, as he tried to move towards her, seeking to bow over her hand, she turned abruptly from him; Mr. Darcy shifting in his stance to further block such an advance. Retreating to the carriage, she retrieved the package carried with them from London, one wrapped neatly with fine linen and a red ribbon. That this task also afforded her space and a moment to draw several deep breathes as she wrangled some control over her nerves, no one need know.

Presenting the package to her mother, she explained, "We have brought a treat for us all. Mrs. Avery and the kitchen staff of Darcy House prepared our wedding cake so exceedingly well, we could not wait to share it with you."

"Darcy House!" Mrs. Bennet cried, "How lovely that does sound!" Then ushering them all towards the house, Elizabeth heard her mother lean close to Kitty and Lydia, whispering so loudly Elizabeth wondered why she bothered whispering at all, "Ten thousand a year! Can you imagine, girls?!"

Mortified at her mother's words, which she held little hope her husband had not heard, Elizabeth closed her eyes, seeking yet another moment to steady herself before turning to him with an expression of apology, surprisingly disheartened to observe the return of his stony façade, the one she had once known so well. While offering no outward acknowledgement of Mrs. Bennet's tasteless comment, he presented his arm to her once more; his hand closing protectively over her own as they stepped forward to assume their new place, falling in behind Mr. Collins and Mrs. Bennet as they entered the house.

The next couple of hours could only be described as a whirlwind for the newly married couple, much of which Elizabeth was doubtful she would even be able to recall once all was said and done. Upon entering the house, she at last espied Charlotte, who was descending from abovestairs, curious as to the cause of such a ruckus. When at long last she spotted Elizabeth among the crowd, her countenance brightened at once, laughing her friend's name as she hurried down the few remaining steps to wrap her in a tight embrace. "Oh Lizzy, how I have missed you so!"

In that moment, Elizabeth's quiet suspicions towards her childhood friend faded, returning the embrace with equal fervor and sharing her own regrets at being parted for so long. Pulling from one another, Elizabeth then shared her good news; Charlotte gasping in surprise and offering her congratulations.

"Come, come! Lizzy has brought us wedding cake! From Darcy House!" Mrs. Bennet declared, calling for Hill to prepare tea so they may enjoy their treat from London.

Once everyone had been ushered into the drawing room and the refreshments distributed, the barrage of questions began:

"When did you marry?"

"How were you reunited?"

"Did you meet again in Newcastle?"

And so on and so forth. With Mrs. Bennet seated beside her and the ever-present Mr. Darcy looming behind her, Elizabeth soon felt her nerves begin to settle, feeling well-prepared for this portion of their reunion. With poise and a confidence born of hours of practice, Elizabeth was able to relay the tale so rapidly spun more than two months prior: of the Dartmouths being called to the Continent, resulting in her delivery in London. But as the lies tumbled so simply from her lips, she could not keep her eyes from drifting towards Mr. Collins, who was seated in the far corner of the room; his stubby fingers rubbing anxiously at his face and hands as she spoke.

"And in all that time, you could not write to let me know where you were?" Mrs. Bennet accused, once again bemoaning her poor nerves at such neglect from her own child. "And your wages? Not one farthing sent to care for your poor mother and sisters!"

Apologizing once more, Elizabeth struggled to maintain her tone of contrition at the mention of her wages; a defiant voice in the back of her mind challenging her to summons Mr. Collins as the culprit in that regard. As she allowed herself the first true moment to observe him, seated nervously in the corner like an errant schoolboy, refusing to meet her eye, the small voice grew louder; its temptations soon becoming too much to resist.

Returning her attention to her mother, she begged her to repeat herself, feigning surprise as she claimed, "I believe the arrangement was for my wages to be paid directly to Mr. Collins."

With all eyes quickly turning upon him, she seized on his surprise to continue, "Mr. Collins, it was my understanding that you received the sum of my wages from Mrs. Dartmouth; did you not?"

Which part of her speech took him most by surprise, she would never know. For all he had conspired against her, for the ruin he had sought to bring upon her, to leave her as the one to account for and hide his depravity was acutely unfair. He should be the one put through this trial. But as her reputation would be the one left in tatters should the truth be revealed, she was left with no other choice other than to do so.

This small moment of defiance, however, did prove to be deeply satisfying.

"Oh… uh… I," he stumbled, clearly desperate for any answer which could come to mind. But as Mr. Collins was not one graced with a quick wit, he was unable to account for the missing funds, causing Elizabeth to once again speculate how he could have possibly been able to devise such a scheme against her.

"Perhaps you should attempt to write Mrs. Dartmouth and inquire after them." Charlotte suggested, her expression bemused as she regarded her husband.

At the mention of such a possibility, Elizabeth quickly glanced behind her, her eyes conveying her fear at such a prospect. However, before Mr. Darcy could attempt a response, their attention was immediately drawn to Mr. Collins as he adamantly denounced the possibility, the twitching of his hands becoming more noticeable still, "No! No, I have no need to write to her. Now that I have had a moment to think upon it, I am certain, yes quite certain that I did indeed receive them."

"And you withheld them from me?" Mrs. Bennet accused, her brow sinking in anger and her glare growing cold as she regarded him.

"No, I-I…" Again he stammered as he grappled for some excuse. "I set them aside in case they may be of need… some- sometime later when perhaps, say… one of my fair cousins should leave her employ. As we can see has happened," he concluded, gesturing towards Elizabeth though still unable to meet her gaze.

Seeing that this did little to assuage Mrs. Bennet's mounting indignation, Jane attempted to deter her mother from pursuing the matter further, softly suggesting, "Mama, perhaps this is a conversation best saved for another time? After all, we are celebrating Lizzy and Mr. Darcy's marriage."

"Oh yes, how did you two come to be married?" Kitty interrupted; her expression quizzical yet not without the wistful hopes for a romantic tale.

"And why?" Lydia scoffed, earning herself a harsh reproach of 'Lydia' from her mother; Mrs. Bennet now clearly committed to showering her wealthy new son with only the most pleasing of compliments.

"We met one morning while walking in Hyde Park," Mr. Darcy answered unexpectedly. This, Elizabeth noticed, capturing the attention of Mr. Collins as he listened intently. "She and Mrs. Gardiner were taking the children to feed the ducks, and we were most fortunate to meet along the path by the water."

Agreeing with his accounting of events, Elizabeth then took up the tale, drawing on the history of their shared interactions over the past two months to weave a story that ended at the altar in St. George's Church, a thought which at first brought such happiness to Mrs. Bennet before quickly morphing into displeasure at having not been present.

Once again, Elizabeth diligently listened as her mother berated her thoughtlessness in not summoning them all to London to stand with them in such magnificence. The pendulum of her mother's mood quickly bringing on a headache.

"How romantic!" Kitty sighed dreamily; Lydia still visibly unimpressed with her new brother.

"How very happy we are for you both," Charlotte added, reaching for her friend's hand and grasping it tightly.

"'He who finds a wife finds a good thing and obtains favor from the Lord,'" Mary then quoted, drawing the attention of all to her place, seated quietly beside the fire. As Lydia and Mrs. Bennet simply rolled their eyes in exasperation, Jane smiled gently as Elizabeth was overcome with a twinge of embarrassment for her sister, who in even trying to express her congratulations could not but find censure.

But Mr. Darcy's voice once more caught all by surprise, bowing his head in acceptance of her felicitations, his tone solemn as he replied, "Thank you, Miss Marry. I have indeed."

***PnP***

Stepping from the house, the chill of the misty morning air did little to dampen Elizabeth Darcy's spirit. Pulling the collar of her pelisse closer and turning her face towards the grey sky overhead, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, cherishing the scent of the country morn, the sounds of the songbirds singing in the trees. It mattered little that the sun was not shining nor the sky a gently blue, for to be once more out-of-doors in the Hertfordshire countryside was all she cared.

Savoring the feel of the breeze on her cheeks, she smiled as a cow mooed in the distance, the horses neighed in their stalls; all sensations she had not the pleasure of enjoying in more than three months. Opening her eyes, she then looked about her at hills and pastures, Oakham Mount and the Netherfield woods, her eyes drinking them in as if she had not seen them in years.

Though she had already been in Hertfordshire for two days – or rather a day and half in truth – she had not yet been free to bask in the moment of being home once more. Her nerves had been too unsettled; her mind in turmoil. And while she was by no means free of the worry surrounding her circumstances, seeing and holding and laughing with her loved ones once more, to confirm for herself that they were well, had provided a great sense of relief.

Turning over in her mind their call on Longbourn, she was overwhelmed by all that had transpired. Between the surprise of her marriage as well as the tales of her travels, Elizabeth had realized it would be too much at that time to broach the topic of Sidmouth. Seizing on a moment of Mrs. Bennet's inattention, Elizabeth had whispered to Jane her belief that they should best wait until today's call to introduce their plan, one which Jane readily agreed to and Mr. Darcy seconded when she shared this in the carriage on the way back to Netherfield.

She also preferred to conduct this conversation without the presence of Mr. Collins if possible, who though remaining detached from the ladies and their conversations, had remained in the drawing room until such time as the Darcys announced their return to Netherfield, retreating into the house as soon as the carriage door had closed.

The sudden sound of a branch snapping quickly drew Elizabeth from her thoughts, starting as she quickly glanced about her; a rustle in the distant tree-line drawing her attention. Squinting, she desperately tried to discern what was there, hopes that a deer or other such creature would emerge from the woods. Instead she was greeted only with silence and the unsettling sense that she was being watched. Suddenly feeling vulnerable in the open drive before Netherfield, she took a step back towards the house, her eyes not straying from the tree-line.

Once again a small rustle disturbed the foliage, something was moving among the trees. Taking several further steps back, she then turned and walked quickly towards the house, glancing repeatedly over her shoulder until her retreat was halted abruptly, her body colliding with that of another, knocking her breath from her as she stumbled backwards. Feeling two strong hands grab her arms, she looked up in terror, her heart pounding with fear.

"Elizabeth?"

Sagging in his grasp, she released a heavy breath of relief, drawing several more as she pressed her eyes closed, struggling to calm her nerves. Then returning her gaze to him, she found that Mr. Darcy was no longer looking at her, his posture stiff as his eyes slowly scanned the distance. Nervously, she watched as they soon stopped, squinting slightly as he seemed to focus on something in particular. Following his gaze, she was drawn to the same place along the tree-line where she had seen the foliage rustle.

"I am sorry for being delayed," he then apologized unexpectedly. Though not yet drawing his eyes from the distance, he suggested, "I thought perhaps we might keep to the garden this morning."

Only too willing to forego their original intention of a stroll along one of Netherfield's lanes, she nodded readily in agreement, slipping from his grasp as she moved to step passed him; a slight shudder surprising her as she felt his fingers brush ever so briefly against her back as he too turned to follow.

Retrieving his walking stick from where it had fallen, his gait soon fell easily into step beside her, both casting a glance or two behind them as they walked towards the east-facing garden. She could not be certain if there had indeed been anyone hiding amongst the trees; her mind already chalking it up to her overactive imagination. That her husband had not insisted upon a return to the house giving her some small measure of reassurance.

Seeking to shake her unease and shed the silence, she inquired after his conversation with James which had prevented him from joining her when she had first stepped from the house.

"He would like us to extend an invitation to your family to join us for dinner tomorrow, if you believe they would be so inclined."

Smiling slightly, Elizabeth jested, "I believe I may be able to persuade Mama." Then pausing for a moment, a hint of mischief lit her eyes. "Although, I believe you may be even better suited to the task than I."

His tone tinged with suspicion, he inquired after her meaning.

"I do believe you have risen from the position of her least favorable bachelor to her favorite son."

"That does not reflect well for me considering I am her only one." Though he quietly did have to acknowledge that his esteem in the lady's eyes had notably improved; her fawning over him the previous morning having quickly tested his resolve to be more generous towards his wife's mother.

In truth, plunging once more into the throng of Bennet women had served as a sobering reminder of his time in Hertfordshire, words from Hunsford ringing in his ears. His back had stiffened and his stony mask of displeasure had slid into place unbeknownst to him within a matter of mere moments. A reaction so natural to him that he had not even realized he had done so until one particular moment in the parlor when Elizabeth had looked to him in bemusement.

At first he had brushed it aside as a response to only one individual in particular: the parson seated silently in the corner. And indeed much of their time at Longbourn had been spent glaring at the man with thinly veiled contempt, his glower conveying his ire without confusion. But as the shrill voice of Mrs. Bennet had droned on and the rude and unladylike behavior of the youngest had worn on him, he was forced to admit that Mr. Collins was not the only cause for his displeasure, reminding him that vowing to change your attitude towards another and actually doing so was not a leap so easily made. Especially when those involved had repeatedly found cause to berate his wife – the accusation concerning her wages having been particularly distasteful – or to insult him directly.

Seeming to read his thoughts, he was caught unawares when Elizabeth apologized, acknowledging the inappropriateness of her mother and sisters at various times during their call. But when he tried to dismiss the notion, she would not have it.

"It is striking is it not? How much we can forget when we are apart from our loved ones, the aspects of their character which can fade as an absence grows long?"

Walking another few moments in silence, he unwilling to speak lest he inadvertently cause insult, and she pondering upon what he knew not. When at last she spoke again, he was not prepared for what she had to say.

"You were not entirely wrong," she confessed. But when he looked to her only in puzzlement, she expounded, a light flush coming to her cheeks as she did. "At Hunsford."

His chest tightening, he turned his face from her, once again scanning the horizon as his will steeled itself for this conversation. No mention had yet been made of the scene in parsonage, nor of his letter delivered to her the following morning. While his curiosity abounded with regards to its fate, he found that now, with their lives now joined in marriage, he rather preferred not knowing at all.

Swallowing heavily, he replied, "Yes, I was. To speak of your family in such a manner..."

"But what did you say of them that was not true? Though your accusations towards Jane were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, the others not so much."

"The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: 'had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.' Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me;—though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice."

Surprised, Elizabeth looked to him in concern. "I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such a way."

Wishing to say more but uncertain how his sentiments would be received, he allowed their conversation to lull for several long moments, waiting until they had turned into the wider avenue before finally giving voice to his burning question, his eyes anywhere but upon her, "Did you read it?"

"I did." Flushing an even brighter pink still, she admitted, "quite a number of times."

Wishing to inquire after her thoughts with regards to its content, he still felt too uncertain about whether or not he wished to know. Instead, he opted for finally voicing the apology he had wished to offer her these many months past. "When I wrote that letter," he began, "I believed myself perfectly calm and cool, but I am since convinced that it was written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit."

"The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The adieu is charity itself."

Chuckling lightly, Mr. Darcy could not help but smile at how generous she was being, "You are indeed too kind. There are countless times I have prayed that you never read it at all."

"I had contemplated casting it to the fire unread," she admitted. "But that would have been a great disservice to us both. For you would be denied the chance to defend yourself against untrue claims, and I would not be the wiser with regards to the matters discussed therein."

Stopping in the lane, he turned to face her fully, his heart hopeful as he asked, "You believed me then?"

Nodding gently, she confessed she did, apologizing for misjudging him so. Seeing the relief such a confession gave him, she then beseeched him to think on the letter no more. "So much has happened since, I believe I can speak on the behalf of us both when I say that the feelings of the person who wrote, and the person who received it, are now so widely different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance attending it ought to be forgotten."

With a lightened heart and a pleased smile, he once again turned to the path, resuming their walk among the browning shrubbery. After a few moments of silence, he did inquire as to the letter's current location, silently hoping it had long since turned to ash.

"I burned it," she admitted, her fears that such an admission may offend him quickly dispelled as he appeared even further appeased at hearing it. "It had not been my intention to do so, but I soon began to fear its discovery, and not wishing to have its contents known to another, believed it best to destroy it."

Filling with a menacing sense of disquiet – her tone not sitting well with him at all – he inquired after her meaning. His anger swelled as she relayed a tale of returning one day from Meryton to find Mr. Collins in her chamber, sorting through her writing desk. Claiming to be in search of a pen knife, which he was certain she would possess one of a fine quality, was the justification proffered. "But once he had left, I was filled with too great a sense of unease, locking my door and pulling your letter from the bottom of my trunk to ensure it had remained undisturbed."

Again her cheeks glowed hotly, she confessed, "I read it one last time that evening before putting it to the fire. That was a fortnight before my departure for London."

She could readily detect his displeasure at this, watching from the corner of her eye as he swiped frustratingly with his cane at an overgrown shrub. But whether this was in regards to her repeated readings of his letter or the circumstances under which it was destroyed, she could only hope to be the latter.

"That man owns no scruples," he at last muttered, quickly looking to her and inquiring in concern, "Is that the only time he has behaved so?"

"Of which I am aware," was all she could honestly reply.

Allowing silence to settle over them for a few moments longer, he then broached the conversation they both knew they needed to address. "I hope you have been able to find comfort in being reunited with your family, to see they are well?"

Shaking her head slightly, she dispelled such a notion, confessing that she has been unable to shake her unease, "I know not what to make of his response to our arrival. I shall fear for them for as long as they remain at Longbourn. Today, Jane and I shall broach our discussion of Sidmouth with Mama."

Humming pensively in agreement, Mr. Darcy quietly reflected on their call. The parson had kept to himself for the duration of their visit, contributing to the conversation only when called upon to do so and keeping his responses relatively short. His nervous ticks had eventually tapered as their call dragged on, but the state of his disquiet Mr. Darcy recalled did not fail the notice of several other in the room. At separate times during the call, he had surveyed the room in his agitation, noting the increasingly curious manner in which Mrs. Collins had begun to observe him; Jane seemingly contemplative as she watched him sit in silence.

Nervous little fellow that he is.

What had been the cause of Mr. Collins' increasing anxiousness, a trait which had developed prior to their arrival and therefor revelation that his scheme had failed? Were the repeated cries of Mrs. Bennet, lamenting her missing child too much for his conscience to bear? Fear of his scheme being uncovered? Or perhaps fear of another? His speculations running wild, Mr. Collins' response to the suggestion he contact Mrs. Dartmouth becoming of acute interest to him now.

Seeming to read his thoughts, Elizabeth broke the silence between them, "It is quite clear he has been unsettled by our arrival."

Agreeing with her assessment, he then shared the train of thought he had been entertaining, repeating James' observation with regards to the parson's nerves even prior to their arrival.

"We are certain he has not replied to her letters?" Elizabeth asked quietly, casting a nervous glance over her shoulder to once again ensure they were alone.

Mr. Darcy assured her of the confidence of Mr. Gardiner's man that no correspondences had been dispatched of late; Mr. Collins' indolence such that he will only travel to Meryton in his carriage and no others have been charged with posting a letter nor fetching a courier. "To be certain however, I intend to find time to meet with him away from the presence of others. Your uncle has provided a letter to vouch for my confidence."

"You do not believe he would try to act now that we have arrived, do you?"

Wishing he could offer her such reassurances, Mr. Darcy had to acknowledge that he was in no position to offer anything of the sort. For it could be anyone's guess as to how a trapped man may react. Expressing her appreciation for his honesty, their conversation once again settled into a lull, each too consumed with their own thoughts for several moments longer.

"But then, he did seem quite determined not to entertain the possibility of writing to her, even under the guise of an innocent enquiry," Elizabeth then observed.

"Mmmm, yes. I had noticed his rather adamant denunciation of his wife's suggestion." As his thoughts then turned to the conversation which had preceded it, Mr. Darcy could not help but smile lightly. "Though I now shall be quite intrigued to see how he shall account for your wages to your mother."

A slight smile now touching her lips, she could not help but shrug and confessed, "I did not believe it fair that I should have to be the one to account for them."

"Indeed it is not. He quite deserves to have your mother's charges leveled upon him. As well as her ire," he agreed. Looking to her, he smirked, "Reminds me not to cross you."

At this she was at last able to laugh. "Yes, never forget that I have at my command the fierce indignation of Fanny Bennet."

But their good mood was not long to last as Elizabeth soon confessed, "I fear my loose tongue may have placed them in further danger."

"How so?"

"The need to account for my wages may force his hand in some way; that he may now be pressed to seek her assistance. Uncle has cause to believe that the income he receives from Longbourn is being rapidly depleted; where else is he to find the funds to repay Mama?"

"I understand your cause for concern," Mr. Darcy frowned.

"I have been chastising myself ever since."

Observing her closely, he could readily observe the weariness marking her countenance, the signs of a fitful rest. But as he contemplated upon her words, seeking some means to reassure her, he was soon able to venture, "It may be possible that this could force his hand, but it may perhaps be in a manner which plays rather well in our favor."

"How so?" she was now the one to inquire.

"He seems rather adamant in avoiding communication with her, first in his failure to respond to her letters and then his outright rejection of the idea just yesterday. So, he may be forced to turn to another source of ill-gotten gains in order to generate the funds, making an ill-advised misstep which may offer us an opportunity to ensnare him."

"Are you thinking of your aunt's brooch, perchance?"

"Yes, that or some move along similar lines." Coming to a halt, he turned to face her directly, causing her to do the same. "But do rest assured, Elizabeth. We will leave Hertfordshire as soon as may be, but we will not do so without your mother and sisters.

"I have vowed to protect you all, and protect you all I shall."

***PnP***

"No! I most certainly shall not!"

The ache now pounding within Elizabeth's head, one which had been escalating steadily since their arrival at Longbourn, had rendered her unable to tolerate her mother's stubbornness for much longer; Mrs. Bennet's adamant refusal to hear of leaving Longbourn causing her head to throb violently.

Despite beginning her day with a pleasant garden stroll alongside her husband, the rest had thus far proven to be quite trying. Arriving at Longbourn following the conclusion of Sunday services, Elizabeth had been quite distressed to discover that Mr. Collins, who traditionally spent his Sunday afternoons visiting with Meryton's parson, had elected to return home with the family, dashing her hopes for a couple hours of privacy in which to discuss Sidmouth. Once again hovering in the corner of the parlor, showing little indication of withdrawing from the room, Elizabeth had struggled to find some means of getting her mother alone. With her attempts to lure Mrs. Bennet from the room quashed by the lady's desire to remain where she was, Elizabeth had at last quietly looked to Jane in her desperation.

Sensing her sister understood her meaning well, she was soon proven correct as Jane – not five minutes later – quietly alerted her mother to her feeling a bit unwell. Requesting her mother and sister's assistance in escorting her abovestairs, her ruse was successful; Elizabeth suspecting Mrs. Bennet was rather determined to see Jane well enough to return to Netherfield and the company of the handsome widower, Mr. Pearce.

Once abovestairs, Jane had then declared herself invigorated by the exercise, requiring only a few moment's rest and their continued company. Seizing upon their chance, Elizabeth then broached the subject, and the sisters had been debating with their mother ever since.

"Why should we be the ones to leave? This is our home! Make the Collins' go to Sidmouth," she demanded once more. Just how many times Elizabeth and Jane had tried to explain why this was not feasible, they knew not.

"Mama, you know that is not possible," Elizabeth reiterated.

"If they had an ounce of decency they would! To cast a widow and her children from their home!"

"Mama, we are not being cast from our home," Jane cooed, hoping to soothe her mother's ill-temper.

"We most certainly are!" Then turning to Elizabeth, demanded, "Why will Mr. Darcy not just purchase Longbourn from Mr. Collins?"

"The entail does not allow him to sell Longbourn, even if he wished to, which I believe we can all agree he does not," Elizabeth explained.

"Selfish man!"

That Elizabeth could not help but agree with, but unable to say so aloud tried once more to sell the virtues of the seaside town, citing the opportunity to make new acquaintances and enjoy new entertainments. With Jane then observing that it was not too far from Meryton, she reminded her mother that the family would still be able to visit with Mrs. Phillips and vice versa, describing the opportunity it offered them all to travel more frequently.

"You do so love the seaside," Elizabeth reminded.

"Yes, and we can now visit when we like, but I see no reason for us to leave Longbourn," Mrs. Bennet declared firmly.

"Mama, it will be a home of your very own! To live in a house where you are once more the mistress, does that not sound lovely?"

"I should be the Mistress of Longbourn," she insisted, "as I have since your father and I were wed! Oh that we did not have a son!" Then turning suddenly to Elizabeth, demanded, "Lizzy, you must provide an heir for Mr. Darcy at once; do not delay! How you have witnessed my struggle; heed my tale!"

Blushing furiously, Elizabeth sat in shocked silence for several long moments, having not been prepared for such an abrupt turn in their conversation. Particularly to a topic on which Elizabeth held little desire in engaging her mother. At a loss for what to say, she at last managed to respond simply with, "Y-y-yes, Mama."

"Oh, if only Mr. Bingley had not abandoned you so, Jane! That we could live at Netherfield and be near all our friends! Oh, imagine the look on Lady Lucas' face when she would be required to call on us there!" Then being struck by yet another poor idea, once more turned to Elizabeth, "Can Mr. Darcy not purchase Netherfield?"

"Netherfield is already in the possession of a gentleman."

"Yes, to Mr. Darcy's good friend! Surely he would be understanding of our plight, delightful gentleman that Mr. Pearce is." At this, she looked coyly to Jane, her expression less than subtle in her hints.

"Mr. Pearce has not the right to negotiate the sale of a property he is leasing," Elizabeth rationalized, her patience running sorely short as her mother continued in her obstinacy.

"Mama, Mr. Darcy has been so very generous in provided us a lovely home of our own, and one situated so delightfully along the sea." Pausing for a moment, Jane then added, "We would not wish to insult his kindness by refusing such a generous offer from our brother."

Surprised to witness such a streak of wiliness emerging in her sister, Elizabeth did her best to suppress the grin which threatened to spill forth. Glancing then to Mrs. Bennet, she could see that Jane had indeed created their opportunity to press their point.

"Well, no! Of course, I do not wish to insult him. However-"

"A gentleman of the First Circle must take great pride in his holdings," Elizabeth observed, quickly joining her sister in this line of attack. "To provide for his family in a manner equal to that of his peers."

At this Mrs. Bennet fell quiet, Elizabeth and Jane watching her hopefully for several long moments as she contemplated their words, searching for some argument which could be provided in contradiction.

"For us, his mother and sisters, to live upon the charity of Mr. Collins, a mere parson, would reflect quite poorly on Mr. Darcy in the eyes of Society," Elizabeth gently pressed.

"The house seems quite lovely," Jane reminded. "Quite comfortable for us all."

Smirking devilishly, Elizabeth added, "Imagine Lady Lucas' expression when she must call upon you at your townhouse on the seaside."

These thoughts Elizabeth could tell were beginning to work rather well on Mrs. Bennet. The lady's silence as she chewed over their words demonstrating so clearly. While her mother's fixation upon marriage for her daughters remained her utmost concern, they could not underestimate her desire to also cleave to her status among Meryton Society, a feat which could not be achieved as she continued to live as a widow relying on the charity of a cousin. But to live on the support of a wealthy son of the First Circle, now that did favor her status quite well. For what Mr. Darcy lacked in titles, he did indeed compensate for with his wealth and estate.

It would take another quarter of an hour to press the advantage they had finally achieved before Mrs. Bennet would at last succumb, agreeing to give Sidmouth a chance. With plans then being hastily advanced, Elizabeth declared that they should all return to London with her and her husband at the end of the week and enjoy the full holiday season in Town. While Mrs. Bennet was distressed by the idea of leaving Meryton so quickly, the sisters were able to extract a tentative agreement, recognizing that additional convincing would be required. However, it was enough to at last set their plans for removing the Bennets from Longbourn into motion.

With the sisters ready to return belowstairs, Mrs. Bennet declared herself too overcome with a headache and requiring some time to rest. Leaving their mother to her bed – and quite content for some peace themselves – they returned to the parlor to find all but Mary having withdrawn to their own amusements. Inquiring after the others, they learned that Mr. Collins had removed to his library, Mr. Darcy to a walk about the property, and the remainder of the ladies to the drawing room to attend to their crafts of choice.

Finding herself desirous of her husband's company, Elizabeth announced that she would step outside in search of him, withdrawing from the parlor in search of her pelisse and bonnet. Once properly outfitted against the bitter December air, Elizabeth made her way towards the entryway, pausing for a moment to tighten the ribbons of her bonnet before stepping from the house.

"Cousin Elizabeth!"

Her heart leaping into her throat, Elizabeth spun swiftly where she stood, her chest tightening as she watched Mr. Collins scamper down the hall towards her; almost tripping more than once in his hurry to capture a moment with her.

Alone.

"Cousin Elizabeth, might I have a moment of your time?" He asked as he finally drew near, glancing nervously towards the parlor door as he passed.

Her tongue responding more quickly than her brain, she flatly refused, "No, you may not."

Thankfully, his opportunity for a moment alone with her was abruptly cut short by the opening of the drawing room door and Charlotte emerging into the hallway. Startled to find her friend and husband standing before her, Charlotte greeted them both pleasantly before noting her friend's attire. "Are you going for a walk?"

With her mind finally able to cast off her fear, she was able to consider her answer a bit more thoroughly before speaking. Not wishing to create an opportunity for Mr. Collins to accompany her, she declared, "Yes, I am joining my husband in a stroll about the gardens. If you will excuse me."

Exiting the house hastily, she denied either the opportunity to accompany her; her eyes quickly scanning the property for any sign of Mr. Darcy. Suspecting he had seized the opportunity to seek out Mr. Higgins, she started walking towards the stables, rounding the corner of house to find Mr. Darcy moving towards her. A relieved smile brightening her countenance, she patiently awaited his approach, which he was diligent to do so more quickly once he had noticed her.

Inquiring after his comfort, concerned that they should return to the house, Elizabeth was pleased when he declined, agreeing to yet another garden stroll with her. Asking after her interview with Mrs. Bennet, he listened attentively as Elizabeth relayed their conversations, pleased to announce that they had extracted her consent after a long and tiring battle of wills. "However, I do believe she is far from settled upon the matter, and Jane and I shall still endure many further battles to convince her."

"If there is any manner in which I may be of assistance, pray do not hesitate to ask it of me."

"I thank you. We may require you and as well as several of the footmen to assist in removing her from her parlor to the carriage when at last we leave," she jested, drawing a small laugh from her husband.

"Ah, that may require a hundred men. Or more."

Laughing outright, Elizabeth was relieved for a moment of levity in an otherwise trying day; the thought not escaping her that the last time she had laughed was several hours prior, while walking in Netherfield's garden. Electing to keep such an observation to herself, however, she then inquired after Mr. Darcy's conversation with Mr. Higgins.

"We are correct in our understanding that no correspondences have been dispatched by Mr. Collins in recent weeks," he was pleased to inform her. "I have alerted Mr. Higgins to the family's engagement at Netherfield tomorrow evening, offering to send our carriage to transport them so that he may have the time to conduct a thorough search of the man's library."

"That is an excellent plan. Mama will be so very pleased to be escorted to Netherfield in your carriage," she quipped. "Though she may coerce Mr. Hawes into find some pretext for taking them passed Lucas Lodge."

"If it shall delay their arrival and allot Mr. Higgins even more time to search, then so be it."

"Does he know what in particular you and Uncle would like him to find?"

"Yes, he will be searching for any indication of Mr. Collins possessing items from Rosings, particularly the brooch or proof of sale. He shall also have the time to examine any records pertaining to Mr. Collins' finances as well as his correspondences. If any are found and he has not the time to recreate them, I may ask James for a second dinner invitation to allot him additional time."

Nodding her approval, Elizabeth then paused for a moment to debate mentioning the brief scene in the hallway. She knew the revelation that Mr. Collins had caught her alone for even a moment would agitate him so, but she was surprised to find herself displeased with the prospect of keeping secrets from her husband. Finally choosing honesty over ease, she recounted for him the brief encounter. As suspected, he halted in his steps at once, turning to her concern. After assuring him that she was well, she quickly reminded him that Jane and Mary were seated in the parlor not more than a few steps from them and Charlotte and her sisters in the drawing room just a few steps down the hall.

"I should not have left the house with him about."

"Come now, Fitzwilliam, you know as I do that speaking with Mr. Higgins was of the utmost priority."

But when he did not answer, she looked to him in bemusement. Standing mutely before her, gazing at her intently, his expression was blank, his thoughts unreadable. When at last the interminable silence did end, she was surprised to find the softest of smiles settled upon his lips, "You, of course, are correct."

It was then that she realized what it was she had said; for this was the first time it had slipped so unthinkingly from her lips: Fitzwilliam.

***PnP***

Sipping pensively at his Scotch, Mr. Darcy took a moment to savor the fineness of the spirit – which he had correctly anticipated James would have on hand – as well as the peace and quiet of his friend's study. The persistent ache which had plagued his head for much of the day was at last starting to ease, though he recognized it was a reprieve which was to be short-lived. Another day spent in the loud and chaotic atmosphere of Longbourn had continued to try his nerves and test his resolve with regards to not just the Bennets, but Hertfordshire society at large.

Their morning had been dominated by an endless stream of morning calls which Mr. Darcy had been forced to endure, firm in his resolution not to leave Elizabeth's side again. Although they had elected not to attend Sunday services the previous morning, Mrs. Bennet had been sure to spread the word of Jane and Elizabeth's return to all those assembled, leading to every lady of the neighborhood calling to welcome the sisters home and, as he swiftly realized, come to ascertain for themselves that Elizabeth had indeed married the wealthy gentleman from Derbyshire. Feeling akin to an exotic animal on display, his jaw had grown increasingly tighter with each ring of the doorbell.

In addition to this, he had also spent much of his day having to stand quietly by as Mrs. Bennet bemoaned their imminent departure from Longbourn to all who would listen. From less-than-subtle barbs directed towards Mr. Collins, who was once again hovering silently in the corner, to unabashed pandering directed at his self, it had all nettled Mr. Darcy sense of decency relentlessly. Jane and Elizabeth, for their part, had done their best to distract or deflect their mother's attention during those times, but even they could only do so much to rein in Mrs. Bennet's displays.

When at last the time to return to Netherfield had arrived, the carriage could not arrive hastily enough to facilitate their departure. Elizabeth, in her embarrassment, had tried to apologize for her mother's ill-behavior, but he had brushed her aside, brusquely declaring them unnecessary. Yet observing her countenance shift in frustration as she withdrew from his side, he had immediately filled with remorse at not checking his irritability. Determined to convey his regrets, he had been disappointed to find the sisters retiring abovestairs upon their return to Netherfield, leaving him no opportunity to speak with her privately.

Now seated in the study, sipping quietly at his drink, he was determined to find a moment to apologize before the arrival of her relations. After the progress he felt had been made between them, he was determined to keep a thoughtless slip on his part from setting them back.

Drawn from his thoughts by a particularly loud pop in the fireplace, he pulled his watch from his pocket, growing a bit uneasy as he noticed the time for the ladies to return from abovestairs was near. Emptying his glass, he removed to the hall where he was forced to mill about for another quarter hour before at long last discerning the sound of the ladies' voices approaching the grand staircase. But for what he was unprepared was to find Elizabeth dressed in the same sage gown she had worn on their wedding day; the vision once again drawing his breath from him, as it had that day as well.

However, the expression she now wore proved to be quite the opposite; her happy smile fading as she espied him awaiting her at the bottom of the stairs. Schooling her features into a mask of polite indifference, she greeted him coolly though agreeable to his request for a moment of her time.

Escorting her to the library, he inspected the room quickly to ensure they were alone before turning to her, his tone one of contrition as he begged, "Pray, allow me to offer my sincerest of apologies with regards to my conduct early today. It was not my intention to behave so rudely towards you."

"I am aware that my family can be trying at times," she replied. "I merely wished to express my regrets for the unease under which I know you must have strained."

Shaking his head, he again tried to dismiss the notion that she need do so. "Tis not your duty to account for their actions. Pray, do not believe I would expect you to do so."

Appearing to grow only further frustrated still, he was confused as to which part of his apology had elicited such a response. "I do not feel an obligation to do so," she tried explaining. "Nor do I seek to account for their behavior nor on their behalf."

"I do not understand," he confessed, his stance shifting in frustrated confusion.

Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, her tone softened as she clarified, "I wished to acknowledge the discomfort under which you have labored, to convey to you my understanding of your disquiet."

Comprehension of her motives at last dawning upon him served as both a relief and a reprimand, causing him to once more regret his manner of rejecting her apology. Nodding in understanding of her meaning, he again apologized for his agitation.

"I do not believe it to bode well for our future if we are unable to acknowledge one another's feelings," she then observed.

"Yes, I understand your meaning and can only but express my support as well. I shall strive to be more cognizant of such in the future."

"Then you shall learn to accept your wife's apologies?"

Nodding adamantly as he returned his eyes to hers, his lips forming yet another expression thereof, he was surprised to be met with a gaze now tinted with mischief.

"After all, one can never know how frequently he is likely to even receive such a capitulation from his wife, and it would be a great pity to waste just such an opportunity when it is presented."

Now smiling, he could not resist rising to her challenge. "Yes. As you know, my wife is a woman without fault, so I am sure moments of apology shall indeed be a scarcity in our marriage."

Flushing lightly in response, Elizabeth was now the one to avert her gaze, quipping, "A pretty compliment."

"Are such not the duty of a husband?" he teased, pleased to find the unpleasant exchange at Longbourn now fading from their memories.

Finally able to return her gaze to him, she confessed, "I am afraid I am ill-suited to comment on such, as I have not had the pleasure of another husband."

"Then in light of either of our ignorance on this matter, I believe I have little choice than to declare it so."

Her cheeks still kissed with a rosy blush, Elizabeth then observed that their arrival in the drawing room had been delayed for some time and suggested they join their host without further delay. With a lightened heart and pleased smile, Mr. Darcy presented his arm to his wife, arriving in the drawing room to find Jane engaged in a congenial conversation with their host.

Assuming their places among the couches gathered close to the fire, Elizabeth was happy to join the discussion of little Reginald Pearce, whom the ladies have enjoyed the pleasure of entertaining during their time thus far at Netherfield. While Mr. Darcy's interactions with the boy had mostly been restricted to observing him as he played with the ladies, he had been relieved upon meeting the lad to find he bore a striking resemblance to his father, a realization of which had soothed one of his greatest concerns for his friend following the exposure of the lady's proclivities. That the boy was quite taken with the ladies was evident, his temperament – James had observed – soothed by their attentions.

Soon however, the sound of approaching voices caught their attention, and the small group gathered prepared for the arrival of their dinner guests; James rising to greet them. "I am so very pleased you are all able to join us this evening!"

"Oh Mr. Pearce, we were so very happy to receive such a generous invitation," Mrs. Bennet cooed, thanking him on behalf of the family. "Imagine our great surprise when we discovered that you and our very own Mr. Darcy are good friends. How silly it is that we had not discovered such already!"

"Why, it is indeed!" James agreed, his affable nature fostering an atmosphere of conviviality. "When Darcy wrote to me of Netherfield's availability, he mentioned only that he had spent some time in the neighborhood and that he believed I might enjoy a visit as well."

"Oh Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Bennet chided playfully, "how coy you have been!"

His eyes drifting towards Mr. Collins, seated directly across from him, he replied dryly, "Yes, Mrs. Darcy and I wished to deliver a great surprise to all."

With Mr. Collins at last being left with no choice but to meet his gaze, Mr. Darcy was able to detect the precise moment when the parson fully comprehended his meaning. With his eyes growing wide and his countenance paling, it was clear Mr. Collins now knew, beyond a doubt, that Elizabeth was no longer the only one in possession of his secrets.

"And what a great surprise it has been indeed!" Mrs. Bennet cried, oblivious to the tensions now mounting between the two men. But as Mr. Darcy at last turned his attention from the repulsive excuse for a clergyman, he did not miss the curious expression of Mrs. Collins as she glanced between the two.

"Mr. Darcy has a townhouse in Sidmouth that he has so generously gifted to us," Mrs. Bennet continued. A hint of censure shading her tone as she glanced sidelong at the Collins', "Though we shall be quite saddened to leave our home here. At Longbourn."

Charlotte, at last returning her attention to the conversation, and clearly uninterested in listening to yet another of Mrs. Bennet's tirades, interrupted her, inquiring, "Mr. Darcy tells us that you and he are neighbors in Derbyshire; are we to understand that your friendship dates from boyhood?"

"Yes," James answered. "We spent much of our youth together, first in Derbyshire and then at Eton and University."

Finally showing interest in the discussion, Lydia was quick to ask excitedly, "Are you acquainted with Mr. Wickham then as well?"

With several of those in attendance being unprepared to hear such a name uttered, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth started, looking to Lydia in surprise while James, who was indeed acquainted with the man but of a similar opinion as his friend, stumbled for a moment as he overcame his surprise. Hastily devising a polite answer, he responded, "Ah… Mr. Wickham? Yes, I… I do know him."

But Mr. Darcy could readily detect his friend's disquiet as they briefly looked to one another; James adding, "I was not aware that he traveled in this part of the country."

"He is no longer in Hertfordshire," Lydia pouted, summarizing for their host the brief history of the militia's encampment during the previous winter, describing the great pleasure she had found in their company before lamenting their removal to Brighton. "I was invited to Brighton with Mrs. Foster this summer, but was not permitted following Papa's passing. It was all very unfair!"

But with Elizabeth clearly uninterested in yet another round of grievances upon the matter, she was swift to interrupt, turning the course of their conversation. "I have had not the pleasure of traveling in Derbyshire and do so anticipate our arrival in the spring. Pray, what do you believe I shall find most dissimilar from Hertfordshire?"

Her tactic successful, the party then spent several minutes of discussion on the beauties of Derbyshire and indeed Pemberley itself; a discussion of which had previously garnered little interest among the Bennet ladies but now becoming one of utmost curiosity. Willing to field many of the ladies' questions with regards to the estate, James provided his friend with some respite from the conversation; a favor of which Mr. Darcy was soon called upon to return.

"And what of your family's estate, Mr. Pearce? Is it much like Pemberley?" Kitty asked.

"They are quite similar," Mr. Darcy quickly intervened. "The true jewel of Derbyshire however must be Chatsworth; would you not agree Pearce?" Determined to distract his sisters from further inquiries about or discovery of his estate – and therefore the truth of James' identity – he then proposed a visit to the grand house when they visit, drawing all into a conversation on that house until they received the call to dinner.

***PnP***

"Might I interest you in glass of port?" James inquired, signaling to the footman nearby to pour each of the men a drink as soon as the door closed behind the ladies. Readily accepting the proffered glass, Mr. Darcy was sure to remind himself that consuming his drink in but an unseemly gulp or two – though tempting – would be ungentlemanly of him.

The dinner had, as he had predicted, been unremittingly tedious and trying of his patience. Though grateful to find himself, as well as his wife, seated a distance from Mr. Collins, it did place him in the polite sphere of conversation with Mrs. Bennet, who could not be dissuaded in her efforts to draw James' attention to her eldest. Thankfully, his friend, who was as equally well-practiced as he in sidestepping matchmaking mothers, was able to endure such machinations with grace and good humor. However, as the meal continued on and Mrs. Bennet's pandering showed little indication of waning, the only option for rendering the meal one worth enjoying lay in the continuous efforts of her eldest daughters to engage the table in more pleasant conversation.

On several occasions, he had caught the eye of his wife, seated across from him; she silently conveying with her gaze her own frustrations and apologies. With the events of the afternoon never far from his thoughts, he strove to return each wordless apology with one of his own, in particular for his curt responses to her mother. Nonverbal exchanges which escaped the lady's notice all together.

In addition to all this, he could not ignore the loud and seemingly biting laments of Lydia Bennet, who once her thoughts had been set on Mr. Wickham, appeared unable to speak of little else. Talking to her tablemates of her cancelled trip to Brighton and lamenting the loss of the militiaman's company as a result, she was even so bold as to turn to James and inquire after his knowledge of his friend's whereabouts. Apologizing for being unable to provide insight into Wickham's movements as they were but distant acquaintances, he listened politely as she then prattled on about the generous and affable company of the cad, ending with the insinuation that he is deserving of only the most loyal of friends.

It was a distasteful display which had created within Mr. Darcy the sinking suspicion that there may exist more to the interactions between Mr. Wickham and his wife's youngest sister than he had initially believed. With a brief glance shared between the gentlemen, it confirmed his theory to be one which James now held as well, both gentleman being well aware of Wickham's tendencies towards young, naïve ladies. When he then hazarded a peek towards Elizabeth, he was concerned to find her countenance a bit pale, her brow marked with worry.

Had the untimely passing of Mr. Bennet in truth spared his family from potential ruin?

"Mr. Collins, it is a great compliment indeed to find my port is of such pleasure to you," James jested, pulling Mr. Darcy from his reflections as he noted the vile little toad had already finished his glass. "May I interest you in another?"

"Ah, no. I do thank you for such a generous offer, but if you gentlemen would be so charitable as to excuse me for a moment?" he replied, already rising from his seat to retreat from the dining room; his departure becoming a source of great concern to Mr. Darcy.

Thought exchanging an inquisitive look with his guest, James seemed more than happy to enjoy a few moments of quiet with his lifelong friend; the peace of the dining room allowing them both the chance to catch their breath. However, with the staff still stationed about the room, they knew any further conversation concerning the events of their meal would have to wait, electing to inquire instead, "I was not aware you had property in Devon."

"I do not," he confessed. "Tis a lease I have secured for my wife's family."

"It is a shame they shall be made to leave Longbourn," James sympathized. "I have dined with a few families in the area and the Bennets appear to be quite well liked among their neighbors."

"Mmmm, yes. But it would not do to have my relations appearing to live dependent upon a distant cousin," Mr. Darcy explained, already pulling his watch from his pocket to see how long said cousin had stepped from the room.

"Devon is quite far from Pemberley," James then observed; if noticing his friend's growing disquiet, he did not reveal as much.

"Yes, but the ladies do enjoy the seaside. My wife and I wish to see them settled where they will be most pleased."

"Yes, Miss Lydia it seems is still quite disappointed at having been unable to visit Brighton this summer."

Pausing for a moment, the gentlemen again exchanged a knowing look; Mr. Darcy observing, "Yes, but perhaps sometimes a great disappointment may in truth be a great blessing in disguise."

Nodding thoughtfully, James agreed, "Yes, I do believe you are correct." Then quietly observing his friend as he checked his watch yet again, James emptied his glass and suggested they rejoin the ladies; an invitation Mr. Darcy readily accepted as he too finished the rest of his drink.

Arriving in the drawing room, Mr. Darcy at once sought his wife, but was quite displeased to discover that she was absent from the ladies gathered. Inquiring after her whereabouts, his displeasure grew intensely so as Jane informed him that she had just returned abovestairs for a moment to retrieve a shawl from her chamber.

His mind turning quickly as he struggled to maintain his mask of calm collectedness, he expressed the desire to check upon the well-being of his wife, withdrawing from the room before any other had the opportunity to respond. Making his way along the hall, his ears were perked for any sounds which may indicate she was nearby, but hearing none, quickly mounted the grand staircase two steps at a time until he reached the landing. Dissatisfied to find the hall empty there as well, he walked briskly along the corridor, listening for any sounds of movement within the chambers nearby.

As he neared the end of the hallway, his attention was at last seized by the sound of a door opening, quickly identifying it as that of his wife's chamber. He was filled with an intense surge of relief as she stepped from the room, adjusting a fine cream shawl about her shoulders as she noticed his approach. Inquiring after the cause for such an unexpected appearance, she grew alarmed as he explained the disappearance of Mr. Collins.

"Having discovered you were parted from the ladies, I wished to ensure he had not caught you unawares," he explained, shifting a bit embarrassedly in his stance as the reality of his overreaction began to dawn upon him.

Shaking her head, she declared that she had not seen him since the ladies withdrew from the dining room. Though now appearing a bit unsettled herself, she expressed her desire to return to drawing room, settling her hand upon his arm in a subtle request for him to accompany her, a request to which he most readily acceded. Though saying little as they returned to their host, their concerns were apparent to them both.

When at last arriving in the drawing room, they were surprised to discover Mr. Collins had during their absence rejoined the group, seated quietly beside his wife as those chatted about him. Doing their best to mask the uneasiness of the previous few minutes, the Darcys assumed a place closer to the windows and far from the man in question, listening in silence as Mary indulged in the performance of one of her concertos for those who cared to listen.

If one thing was for certain, neither Mr. Darcy nor Elizabeth would find a moment of peace until the presence of Mr. Collins was firmly removed from Netherfield.