Again thank you all so much, I'm glad you still seem to enjoy this story. And as always, special thanks to Shey72 for proofreading. Also thank you Irina, for pointing out that Cholera wasn't known in England at that time, I changed it to Typhus as you have suggested.

Love

Nic

Chapter 36

It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Truth be told, Darcy was not much surprised to see his friend arrive early the very next day after Mr Bennet had paid him a call, but thankfully he was on horseback and without his youngest sister in tow. That was something to be thankful for, for though Bingley had already said too much and Mr Bennet now knew his true identity, as long as he could avoid Caroline, he would be safe. Or at least so he hoped unless Bingley somehow inadvertently gave him away. He really should have taken into account how open a person Bingley was; he was simply incapable of deceit and on top of that, he was chatty, not in the negative sense, but Charles Bingley liked to converse and there were no two ways about it.

And there he was now, just as Darcy had finished raking just half the driveway, a work that became more tiresome with every passing day. Where first it had been quite relaxing, satisfying even, it had now turned into a never-ending task repeated daily. At least Prickler was there again, once more curled up beneath a bush close by.

"Good morning," Bingley greeted cheerfully, though seemingly without recognising him, at least for the time being that was, for there was little to do but go over and take care of the horse. It needed tethering and perhaps some water and hay. Actually, Darcy could not suppress a small smile as he stepped closer and took the reins, careful to keep his head down to keep his disguise just a little longer.

"'Morning, Sir," Darcy greeted back bowing slightly, though a small smirk had crept onto his face. "Will your horse require water? I could go and bring over a bucket, Sir."

"Oh, that..." Bingley replied then halted abruptly;there it was, the moment of recognition. Ha, it had been faster than anticipated, but then again, Bingley knew he was here, he must have expected to lay eyes on him some way or another. Yet, the expression of astonishment was still priceless. It seemed as if Bingley, despite knowing he worked as a gardener, had still had some trouble picturing him in ragged work clothes. Quite honestly, he himself had not had them even two months ago when he had first decided to go on this rather unusual journey.

"Da... - Darcy?! Dear me, I did not recognise you at first!"

"I know and yes, it is I. And I guess I have to thank you for Mr Bennet finding me out..."

"Dear me! I am so sorry."

"Surprisingly enough I am allowed to stay nonetheless, so it is of little matter, Bingley. But perhaps it might be wise to be a little less open about how you came to take Netherfield in the future..."

Again there was this odd feeling of being watched and carefully searching the windows from beneath the brim of his hat he was little surprised to see the Miss Bennets assembled on one of the upper windows glancing down at their new neighbour with various expressions on their faces. The two youngest seemed excited, Miss Bennet was smiling serenely, Miss Mary was half-frowning, and Miss Elizabeth caught his eye with a questioningly raised eyebrow.

"What is it?" Bingley at least.

"The ladies are watching us already, or rather you," Darcy chuckled slightly forced. "You seem to have made quite an impact already."

"Well, they are very pleasant ladies are they not?"

"Yes, and Miss Bennet is also very beautiful..."

"Darcy, she is an angel... - Darn! William, I mean, of course."

"I think you should better go in, and at any rate, I need to get on with my work. There is much to do at this time of year. - If you want me to, I'll look at the hind leg, Sir. Your poor horse might have stepped onto a thorn or a pebble," he quickly fell back into his role as he perceived the door being opened, revealing Mr Hill, normally working without gloves or a wig, standing there in all his glory as a butler.

But this could only go wrong.

"Are you idling away, William?" John's voice piped up behind him, grinning sneakily.

He was carrying a basket with various parcels, some slightly stained, indicating that he had just run an errand for cook seemingly getting some extras she had not included in her order the previous day. A fairly frequent occurrence, not so much cook's fault as Mrs Bennet's who was prone to change the menu at the last possible moment if the fancy caught her. Not that she was inconsiderate, it more stemmed from a desire to please any guests that might come by, and unlike the more formal social environment in London, a family dinner could easily end up being a party of several friends. As for the sudden change in today's menu, Darcy had the slight suspicion that it had been done in the hopes that Bingley would be persuaded to join them. It was hard to suppress a smirk.

"No, I merely offered my assistance to the gentleman who's just arrived and whose horse seems to have trodden onto something."

"Always putting yourself forward then," the boy replied gruffly.

"It is called common courtesy and should be quite natural to offer one's assistance."

"I know who you are, William. – A liar! I tried to warn Peters about you, and also suggested to Mr Hill to go and tell Mr Bennet about you having dallied with none other than Miss Darcy. Sister? Ha! You shouldn't have given us lessons, William if you intended to keep your secret. Darcy is not such a difficult name to make out."

"I guess it is not. But pray, what exactly is it that bothers you so much about me, John?" Darcy asked calmly, ignoring the boy's accusation regarding the 'affair'.

As irritated as the boy's behaviour made him on one hand, there was also something that seemed to reach deeper than mere jealousy.

"What it is that bothers me you ask? Well, ever thought of the consequences your actions might have brought about?"

"Consequences?" Darcy did have an inkling where this was going, but still part of his mind refused to go there.

"Aye, consequences. For a man it is easy, whether rich or poor, but for a woman it is not and also not for any children that came out of such a relationship."

"Children?" Darcy stammered, wondering where this conversation was going and moreover, what had caused it.

While he quite agreed with John, that men got out of such affairs comparatively easy, that some even made a disgusting sport out of it, there was an underlying passion about the boy as he now stood before him that was a bit disturbing. Well, perhaps passion was not even the right word or it. Hate, perhaps? Anger? Desperation? It was hard to make out. On the one hand the boy was abrasive to a point where one just wanted to put him in his place, and on the other, thinking back on his own youth and the time his mother had passed away, seeing this seething lad in front of him was like looking into a mirror and seeing his own younger self.

"John," Darcy hesitantly started, "I can assure you that nothing untoward has been going on between Miss Darcy and myself. Ever. But you are correct, I have written to her..."

Perhaps it was just as well that John did not let him finish his sentence, as he just walked away, seeing that Darcy had no idea how he would have finished it but one thing was clear, his time here had come to an end. It definitely was time to leave.