Disclaimer: I don't own Pride & Prejudice.

"How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world."
~ Anne Frank

Part III Chapter I

The figure stood concealed in the shadows the house cast over the street. His gaze wandered over the way, peering into the open window, watching her with her family. They were at dinner and she was laughing at something, making her nose crinkle in that cute way of hers. Gaining a moment of courage, he took a step forward, but then stopped. He imagined her look of delight fading as soon as she saw him standing in her doorway. He couldn't do it - not yet, not after his actions. Scuffing his shoes against the pavement, he lingered a little longer hoping for some miracle that would posses him to just walk up to her door and make everything right. He just wanted to make it right. To have everything return to how it was, how it used to be - how it should be.

No such inspiration claimed him and he remained on the opposite side of the street just staring at the once welcoming house-hold. Her absence from his side made her shine all the more to him and her bright eyes appeared to hold a torch within, incapable of fading; no matter what challenged them. He could see that they had finished their meal and that she was helping her mum clear the table and wash up. How badly he wanted to just sit at the table and have the pleasure of watching her perform this simple task up close; so long as he was up close.

The sky darkened and evening was passing into night; soon he would have to tuck in for the night. He stayed for a few minutes more until the family drew their curtains and he could see no more than the dark fabric. Sighing, he resigned himself to being cowardly and slunk away into the night, completely dissatisfied with himself.

Two Years Later

The snow fell lazily yet steadily to the ever increasing layer of white frost that covered the ground. Decorating the windows were frozen flakes, and icicles that hung from every open surface. The stairs and walkway of the Bennet house were slick with ice creating a very difficult environment for Mr. Bennet and Mary as they tried to shovel a path to the car and out to the street. There were no snowploughs that came to St. Abbs so the residents had to take care of the traffic ways themselves, designating shovel time throughout the families that had permanent residencies in the village.

Lizzy watched from her room as her Da and sister struggled in the snow; it came at least to above Mr. Bennet's knee. The two outside were hard at work concentrating on clearing the way and Lizzy was almost envious of them. Not of having to shovel, but of knowing exactly what to do next. In front of her was a piece of paper that had only Chapter Three written on it. Her first two chapters lay in the side drawer of her desk, currently meeting her satisfaction, but she couldn't be sure. At some later date she might change it completely.

Her first novel had been quite successful under the guidance of Mr. Bainswick, the editor that had first been intrigued by her from Rory's words. Once she had finished the book she set an appointment with him and traveled down to London with her mum. He had read her manuscript of 700 words in less than a day and agreed to sign her on. Lizzy was convinced that the only reason she had struck such gold was because Mr. Bainswick couldn't resist anything relating to the sea. However, after the first week of her book being published the sales had soared through the roof and convinced even herself that she had written a good story.

Now though, she couldn't get a single sensible thought down on paper. And the more she thought of it, the more the first two chapters were sounding unusable. Dropping her pen in frustration she rested her head in her hands, rubbing her temples.

"Everything alright, dear?"

Lizzy turned and saw her mum entering her room, carrying a laundry basket tucked under one arm as she opened the door with the other. She sighed and turned her attention back to the window.

"Fine. Just a little writer's block." Mrs. Bennet set the basket down and began taking out the newly washed clothes and folding them. She placed them on Lizzy's bed to be later put away in drawers or hung up in the closet.

"I wouldnae worry, love. Ye've always gotten past these little hiccups, but speaking of writing - Mr. Bainswick is waiting on the landline. I put the phone down on the table next to the couch."

Lizzy groaned when she heard that. She had a feeling she knew what he was phoning about and she wasn't at all anxious to hear it. Grudgingly, she rose from her desk and went to her mum, giving her a peck on the cheek as thanks for the laundry. Mrs. Bennet smiled at the endearment and puckered her lips to give her daughter an air kiss from the side of her mouth.

The living room was empty except for Abbey, the white Cocker-Spaniel that was one amongst three other dogs that the Bennet's had rescued. She was lounging luxuriously on the couch with her paws crossed in front of her and her head resting delicately atop. When she saw Lizzy walk in she perked her ears up and gave her tail a wag. Her round button-eyes watched as Lizzy approached the table, entreating the human to come over and perhaps pet her tummy. This, however, was not what the human had in mind; the phone was waiting exactly where Mrs. Bennet said she left it, almost innocently. Lizzy stared at the device before taking a breath and bringing the phone to her ear.

"Mr. Bainswick, sorry to keep ye waiting."

"Not to worry Lizzy, not to worry. I just wanted to check in on the little authoress; how's our heroine coming along?" He asked, business like. Lizzy hesitated, but decided to relate a little white lie.

"Er...working on it. In fact ye caught me in the middle of writing a pretty good scene."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she could tell, even through the phone, that he was nodding his head and chewing at his bottom lip. "You have writer's block, don't you." Mr. Bainswick didn't even bother to pose his sentence as a question - he knew. Lizzy rolled her eyes. How well her publisher knew when she was fibbing. No point in continuing the lie, she conceded that she was having difficulty in progressing with the book.

"I don't want to have to be harsh," Mr. Bainswick said, already sounding stern. "But I'm going to need the first draft of your manuscript by June 23rd."

"June 23rd?" Lizzy spluttered, panicking. "But that's only four months away."

"Yes," he acknowledged, "but the quarter is coming up."

"Is there anyway it can be past that date?" She tried to negotiate.

"June 23rd." The line ended and only the dial tone played in her ears.

"Damn it." Punching the button to end the line, Lizzy put the phone back in it's receiver just as her Da and sister came in through the front door, traipsing in liberal amounts of snow and slush. They were nearly completely bundled up, hidden under layers and layers of clothes. They had their scarves covering up their mouths and noses and their hats came down well past their brows. Only their eyes and the skin around their eyes showed and were frost bitten.

"Ye finished?" Lizzy asked, shocked to see them in. They had only just been under her window the last time she saw them. Mr. Bennet pulled off his hat and tore his gloves off with his teeth, exposing his chapped lips.

"No. It's the post." He pulled the mail out of one of his coat pockets and held out a particular envelope. "It's from Jane." He smiled.

"Ooh! Let me get mum and the girls." Lizzy spun around and ran back down the hall, exciting Abbey who jumped off the couch and followed after her giving out little yips. Lizzy called to her sisters to come to the living room, knocking on their doors and the bathroom as well - she wasn't sure where they all were. She found her mum still in her room folding the clothes and piling them on her bed.

"Mum, come on! It's a letter from Jane!"

"I'll be right there." Mrs. Bennet beamed.

Jane had gone off to that art college, Leith School of Art, about six months ago and generally sent her family letters. She'd phone occasionally, but usually she wanted to enclose a small painting or show off her acquiring calligraphy skills. She was studying painting and pottery, and from her weekly post, guaranteeing a weekly painting, her family could see her rapid improvement.

Kitty and Lydia appeared from their room and the kitchen, respectively, and the dogs, as well, came to investigate what the commotion was about. Moochkie, the husky, came from the end of the hall looking a little groggy, no doubt he was woken from taking a nap on the master bed. Following Lydia from the kitchen were two labs, one chocolate, named Jock - the other vanilla, named Donald; both wagging their tails furiously and nudging the girl with their noses in hopes that she'd drop whatever she was eating. Kitty came from her room holding Shona, a small black and white Pomeranian that sat easily tucked in her arms. Abbey by this time had returned to the living room and was barking up at everybody, wanting to play now that she had been so woken up.

"What does the letter say?" Mrs. Bennet asked her husband. The women gathered around the man, watching him open the envelope and pull out the letter. A small parchment fell out and Mary picked it up before one of the dogs could get to it.

"Oh look." Mary's eyes roamed wondrously across the paper she held before turning it so her family could see. "It's our garden." She told them. And indeed it was. Every detail seemed to be remembered and the colouring was very impressive, the shading looked nearly real.

"Right, well let's see here." Mr. Bennet peered into the envelope. "There's something else here. Ah, another letter. Only, this one is addressed to ye." He held out the enclosed note and handed it to Lizzy. She took it and tucked it into one of her pockets - she'd save it for later.

"'My dearest family,'" Mr. Bennet read aloud, "'I can't even begin to tell you how much I miss all of you. I know I wrote only a week ago, but the time that has since past feels like ages when I think that I have not seen you in a few months. This next term I am going to try and visit more, but these last months I've been extremely busy and couldn't find the time to slip away. I hope you like the painting of the garden; I sketched it up before going to bed and then painted it during lunch. In pottery we've been working with kaolin clay, a very pure mineral that is tricky to work with. Kaolin is used for porcelain and has a very light colouring; not always white, but can be a grey or off-white. My room, though, is cluttered with pots and earthenware. It sort of looks like one of Lizzy's old picture books of witches with their cauldrons and bottles of spells. Mary, I've made a friend who I think you would like. She plays the piano almost as beautifully as you and can match your passion for music. Kitty and Lydia, I thank the heavens everyday that the two of you are not yet old enough for campus boys. I think at last the pair of you would have a run for your money. Lizzy, if only you were here with me I'd feel less homesick and have my constant partner in crime. I hope your book is coming along and I can't wait to read it when it's finished. Mum and Da I miss and love you both so much and I can't wait until I can see you again. I love you all and hope that everything is well at home. Oh and tell Moochkie, Abbey, Jock, Donald, and Shona that I say 'hi' and send them a bunch of kisses and tummy rubs.
Love Jane'
Well that's lovely." Mr. Bennet finished. He handed the letter to his wife and their daughters crowded around their mother and read over her shoulder. Lizzy crouched down on the floor and called all the dogs to her, distributing the kisses and tummy rubs that her sister had sent through the note. They all circled around her, licking her face and nearly knocking her back on her bum. Shona and Abbey, the smaller ones, tried jumping into her lap, but Jock nudged Lizzy's chest so forcefully that she eventually did fall back and the dogs took that as their cue to run and lay all over her. Only Moochkie was more subdued and tried to help Lizzy up by keeping the others at bay.

"I hope she writes more about her friend and what type of music she likes to play." Mary said after she read the letter for herself.

"The piano, obviously." Lydia said matter-of-factly.

"Obviously," Mary rolled her eyes. "I meant, what genre."

"Well, what I want to know," Kitty interrupted, "is what do the campus boys look like?"

. . .

Once Mrs. Bennet hung the latest letter up on the fridge, her husband and Mary returned to the ice box that was outside and the rest of her girls dispersed throughout the house. Lizzy returned to her room and sat herself down on her bed, careful not to upset the pile of clothes that she would put away in a few minutes. But first she wanted to read her letter. She pulled it out from her pocket and opened the seal, revealing a much shorter letter than the families. It read:

Dear Lizzy,
I've contemplated writing this for a while now, but if I don't tell you I think I'll burst. It's just that I feel a little guilty and I know that you'd say I shouldn't feel guilty, but I can't help it.

Lizzy shook her head at her sister's writing style; she hadn't even written what it was that was bothering her yet.

The thing is, is that I've sort of met someone. We're not dating, but we eat together and he's the one I always am around when I'm not in a class. And I can't deny that I do have something akin to feelings for him, but I don't know. I'm so confused.
Yours Stupidly, Jane

Lizzy snorted when she reached the end and read the way her sister signed off. It was just like Jane to feel guilty about getting over Charlie and find other men interesting. She was shocked, though, that Jane was spending all her free time with this mystery man that she had neglected to name. Perhaps they had met in the beginning of the year and it had taken all this time for her to finally mention him. That seemed the most likely scenario.

Placing the folded letter into her bedside drawer, Lizzy hung up her clothes and then sat back at her desk, staring at the annoyingly blank paper. Her new book was to be about a girl disguised as a boy to escape to the sea. She was so trying not to write a copy-cat version of the story that her mind wasn't letting her come up with anything. Annoyed at the lack of progress, she decided to make a timeline of the events that she wanted to happen in the story. From there, she figured it'd be easier to mould out the interiour of the story.

1799 was the date she decided would be the start of her story and her heroine would be around fourteen years of age. In the end, Lizzy realized that if she was ever going to get past her writer's block and get anything worth reading down on that paper, it would have to be something that she herself would pick out from a book shop and get lost in.

From that point of view she was able to think up some ideas that she eagerly wrote down. She wrote and thought until she heard her mother call for dinner. She glanced up at her window and saw that the sun had fallen behind the horizon and that the light she was working in was hardly good for her eyes. Somewhat satisfied, she piled her papers together, closed her curtains, and went to the kitchen where most of her family was already seated. Only Mary was needed but she was in the loo. Aunt Phillips was there as well, having made it a regularity to join her family for dinner. Many times Mr. and Mrs. Bennet had offered Mrs. Phillips to move into their spare bedroom so that she wouldn't be alone in the house, but she always refused the offer in the kindest of ways, stating that if she left her home where she had shared it with her husband she'd feel that she'd lose the last bit of him. No one argued with her on that.

Once everything was spread out on the table and the family were in their usual spots eating away at the delicious meal Mrs. Bennet had made, the conversation and tittle-tattle of the day passed from mouth to ear. Aunt Phillips had the honour of having Jane's latest letter read to her by Lydia, and commented on how proud she was of her niece.

The dogs sat around the table, their tails never ceasing to wag, whether they were aware of it or not. Lizzy found it hard not to look at them, but once she did she felt guilty and would slip them a little something off her plate.

"What was it that Mr. Bainswick wanted?" Mrs. Bennet asked, inadvertently interrupting her daughter's attempt of handing a piece of chicken to Jock. Afraid that she had been caught, Lizzy straightened up and put her hand in her lap.

"Sorry?" She asked.

"Mr. Bainswick. What did he say?" Mrs. Bennet repeated.

"Oh," Lizzy relaxed and slyly dropped the piece of chicken to the floor where Jock swallowed it without even bothering to chew. "He just phoned to give me the due date of the first draft."

"When's that?" Her Da inquired, as he was ladling out peas from a bowl and onto his plate.

"The 23rd of June." Lizzy slightly groaned.

"Cheer up lass." Mrs. Bennet encouraged. "Ye have the date in mind and everyday ye'll work on it."

"Aye, that's true." Lizzy agreed. She looked down and saw Jock staring, expectantly, up at her. 'No more.' She mouthed, but that only made him wag his tail faster. She tried ignoring the chocolate lab, but he started whining and soon small yips were escaping his muzzle which she knew would turn into full on barking in a few seconds. Not wanting him to be punished for what she did, Lizzy continued to slip him pieces of her dinner.

"What I don't understand," Lydia began to say to Lizzy, "is why don't ye find a place of yer own?" She didn't mean it as harshly as it came out and realized that she could have worded her query better only after she said it.

"Ye that anxious to get rid of me?" Lizzy teased.

"No, of course not, but I mean ye have money of yer own now and yer twenty-one. Don't most people leave home by yer age?" This was not a new topic; Lydia often wondered why her older sister was still living in the small village when she knew that she had enough money to get a flat in the city or perhaps put down money on a house.

"I suppose so, but I'd miss ye too much and I don't know if I'm ready to live alone." Lizzy explained.

"Aye," aunt Phillips joined in, "besides, Lizzy's needed in this village. Without her everything would go to pot."

Lydia was answered but she would no doubt ask again, because if it was her that had made all that money, she would get her own place faster than a racing bullet. One thing that Lizzy did not want her younger sisters finding out was how much she actually had made. She knew that Kitty and Lydia would never stop pestering her for new shoes or new outfits; Mary she didn't believe would be like that, but she was sure that she might accidentally let something slip to the other two. Her mother and father knew what she had earned, but only her Da knew that she spent a good portion of it for Jane's tuition. He had fought it at first, but when he saw that he didn't have enough to cover the funds and that Lizzy was willing he grudgingly allowed her to help.

"I spoke to Charlotte today." Mrs. Bennet's announcement was met with 'awes' and questions of how the family was. "Laura was asking for her auntie Lizzy and Charlotte said that she'd send us a picture through text. One of ye will have to fiddle with that," she said to her daughters, "I don't have the foggiest how that device works. But the family is doing well and she told me to send ye all her love."

"That little Laura has grown fast." Mr. Bennet commented. "I remember her first visit when we had to make sure she didn't pull on Shona's tail."

"Or ears." Mrs. Phillips added. "Aye, but it's true," she smiled. "She's gone from tugging at tails to picking her nose and tasting her boogies."

"Please," Lydia coughed, miming a choke. "We are still eating."

"Och, don't be so prudish." Her mother chastised.

The dinner wound down soon after and once everything was cleaned and put away the adults lingered around the table to have a last cup of coffee whilst the girls retreated to Lizzy's room since nothing was of interest on the telly. Kitty and Lydia claimed the head of her bed, crawling under the sheets, leaving the foot of the bed for Mary. She too situated herself under the covers, wrapping the sheets nice and snug around her. Lizzy went to her desk hoping to get some writing in before bed. The chances of that, however, were growing slimmer by the second. Her three younger sisters held her attention, despite her best efforts, and more often than not she found herself fighting to keep a straight face at whatever had just been said. If she had been in a more spiky mood, she wouldn't have even let her sisters into her room in the first place, but since she had made some headway before dinner, she didn't mind their company. That all changed though, when Lydia gave one of her more annoying giggles, tipping Lizzy that some mischief was up.

"What?" Lizzy asked, guarded; sure that whatever it was, had to do with her.

"Oh nothing." Came Lydia's impish reply. "Just found a text from that lad of yers."

"And what lad would that be?" Lizzy continued in her uninterested way. She had her back still turned towards the bed knowing that any fast movements on her part would alert the young predators.

"Oh, ye know...Rory."

Lizzy calmly turned in her chair to face three grinning idiots; her mobile was in Lydia's hands. All three seemed to expect some outburst from their older sister, but all they got was a steady response.

"As I've told ye on many occasions - Rory is a friend. Nothing more."

"Maybe to ye," kitty wheedled, "but he definitely fancies ye, and more than just friendship."

"Och, please." Lizzy rolled her eyes to the heavens and stood from her chair. "It's time we got ready for bed." Trying to change the subject made little difference to her three meddlesome sisters, but eventually she was able to kick them out of her room and the four of them took their turns washing up for bed. Lizzy was the last and when she finished nearly everyone was tucked in. The night was cold and all the family had taken extra blankets from the hall cupboard; most of the fluffy ones were gone by the time that Lizzy reached the cozy stash. She was still able to find one left, though, and spread it over herself and her comforter. Under her sheets she reached for her mobile and rang Jane.

"Hello?" Jane's groggy voice answered.

"Sorry, it's Lizzy. Did I wake ye?"

"No no. I'm still up." She assured, obviously lying.

"I'll make it quick."

"No need. How are ye?" Jane's voice became clearer after she had cleared her throat.

"We're all good. We got yer letter today and it was read about a hundred times; I think I even heard mum say that she was going to pin it up at the post office." Jane laughed, but became silent for a second giving Lizzy the opportunity to broach the subject she was phoning about.

"What's his name?"

A beat more of silence, then - "Anthony."

"What's he like?" She decided she would keep it to simple questions. They didn't need to go over the anticipated inquiries of 'will he treat you better than Charlie' or strands of that nature. If Jane felt more than just friendliness for Anthony, Lizzy wasn't going to put up unnecessary barriers that would compare to Charlie...or contradict him.

"He's really sweet. I just - I don't know." Jane trailed off.

"Ye can tell me anything." Lizzy said softly. She heard a sigh come through the line and wondered what it was that was troubling her sister so much. Perhaps he was involved with another girl - in the letter Jane had said that she was feeling slightly guilty, maybe it was that.

"I know yer going to say I'm stupid and...and crazy," her voice was muffled, most likely she was burrowing under her sheets, attempting to, in some way, hide from telling her sister the truth. "And I just can't. Not yet. Send my love to the family - I've got to go, school tomorrow."

"Jane, hold on." It was too late. Jane had hung up, utterly stumping Lizzy. What on earth could be so bad that she wouldn't even tell her sister. Before Lizzy could phone her again, her mobile lit up and she saw that it was from Westerham. The only people she knew there were the Collins's, those at Rosings, and Ted and his family. But then she remembered that Georgie was staying with her aunt - the great lady who took her in out of the kindness of her heart. More like forced her to come down and live with the old hag in the lonely Rosings Park. Her curiosity was too much and she answered.

"Hello?" She asked hesitantly.

"Lizzy?"

"Georgie? Why are ye crying?" Lizzy sat up in bed, alerted at the younger girl's distressed tones and hiccuping sobs. "Where are ye calling from?"

"I don't know." Georgie sniffled. "I got out. Aunt Catharine watches all my calls; she's forbidden me from contacting Will. I've barely spoken to him and I haven't seen him in two years -"

"Wait, ye havenae seen Will in two years? She hasnae let ye visit him?" Lizzy inquired, trying to make sense of the situation.

"No, I haven't." Georgie hiccuped. "I've only been able to e-mail him sometimes and phone him when I visit the Collins's. Aunt Catharine had told him that he can't come back until he finishes college, but I think he means to come back soon. He's twenty-one now and no longer forced to listen to aunt Catharine."

"So ye'll soon be out of Rosings." Lizzy reasoned. "Surely once Will comes back to England he'll see to ye first thing. I see no reason to fret Georgie." Lizzy smiled into her mobile, feeling hopeful for her friend.

"Yes, but I can't help worrying that even though Will is twenty-one and can do as he likes, I'm still a minor and aunt Catharine might try to keep her grip on me." Georgie subsided somewhat in her tears, but her voice still held a sad note.

"Out of curiosity," Lizzy began asking, "if yer aunt has such a tight leash on ye how is it that yer phoning me now?"

"She hosted a party tonight and some important figure in the art community came and he wanted a tour of the gallery. She offered to guide him and I was able to slip away." Georgie explained. "I couldn't use the Collins's phone because they're at the party as well and I didn't have a mind to smash a window when there was a perfectly good phone on the corner of the street." She mildly joked.

"So, then Georgie," Lizzy furrowed her brow as she started her sentence. "I don't mean to sound crass, but what exactly did ye ring me for?" She heard the younger girl take a breath and Lizzy bit her lip hoping that she hadn't offended her friend.

"I just am feeling lonely. I don't know when Will will be back, aunt Catharine is hardly sociable and the Collins's are either absorbed in sermon making or little Laura." She said, referring to their baby. "I suppose I was wondering if you could - "

"Georgie?" Lizzy questioned when the girl had stopped short suddenly. "What is it?"

"I have to go." Georgie whispered, ending the line.

"Wait. Georgie." Lizzy checked her mobile and saw that the line, indeed, had ended. "Ugh." She grunted in frustration. Her curiosity grew not only at what Georgie was going to say, but what had made her end the call. She couldn't even phone her back; she didn't know any of her numbers. She could give Charlotte a ring and see if she could give her Georgie's number. With nothing left for it, she relaxed back into her bed and thought over what Georgie had said. She wondered who was taking care of Pemberly now that both residents were away. She supposed that Richard might check in from time to time, but in truth she had no idea if that was the case at all. It was truly disheartening to hear her friend in such anguish and Lizzy debated if she should somehow contact William. If it was to save his little sister, then she was big enough to push her pride aside and ring him up and tell him about her talk with Georgie. But then she remembered she didn't know his new number. Once again the thought of ringing up Charlotte sprung to mind. If she had allowed Georgie all those private call between the siblings, surely she would know his number.

"Bullocks." She rolled over on her side and rested her cheek on her hand. If she did get hold of Will's number then nothing was excusing her from not calling. She had just told herself that she could push past her pride and ring him for Georgie's sake, but thinking it was much different (and easier) then acting upon it. Pulling her covers up over her head, she buried her face in her pillow - hiding from the chill of the night as well as the prospect of contacting Will. She would think more on the matter when her mind was clearer and when she wasn't trying to piece together Jane's dilemma. She wiggled down into her blankets a bit more and soon sleep found her.

The events of the following week copied each other for the most part - not much changed in the small fishing village except for reports of baby Laura's adventures in the garden or the Lucas boys finding new ways to tease and taunt the Bennet girls. Lizzy determinedly kept at her book, not wasting a moment when she had one. She doubled up her research with her writing and sometimes would stay up, working at her desk until three in the morning. The morning after she had heard from Georgie she had phoned Charlotte and asked for Will's number, explaining her reason. With his new number tucked away in a drawer in her desk, Lizzy fought herself everyday, procrastinating the time that she would ring him and tell him to start thinking of a date to get his sister. She knew it was the right thing to do, but in spite of herself she argued that perhaps Georgie had reached him and had already sorted it all out.

For Kitty and Lydia not much excitement was to be had and only Mr. Bennet dared the roads every morning to make his commute to Netherfield Academy, much to his youngest daughters' chagrin. They had to occupy their minds in other ways and that mostly meant watching the telly, being on the internet, or annoying Mary. All in all the week had been an average one, that is until on a Saturday afternoon they received a knock on the door.

"Mary, love," Mrs. Bennet called from the kitchen, "could ye let the pour soul in. It's probably Lady Lucas."

Mary stood from her piano bench and crossed the room. Kitty and Lydia sat uninterested on the couch, seeing what they could watch and Lizzy had just come down the hall to get herself a snack. Mary unlocked the latch allowing the door to swing wide open causing Lizzy to give a silent gasp when she saw who was standing on the threshold. Never in a million years did she expect to see this person again. Her intake of breath caught her sisters' attention and they too turned to see who was calling on them.

"Well, are you going to invite me in or let me freeze to my death?" The cold voice held no humour in it and Lizzy narrowed her eyes.

"Of course Lady Catharine, come in and warm yourself by the fire."

A/N: I have sectioned it off and I think there will be about sixteen more chapters until the end.

On a separate note - I send my prayers to the families who are dealing with the losses in Denmark as well as the young American girl killed by ISIS. I just find it confusing that Europe isn't following these terrorist attacks with protests, much like how the rest of the world is dealing with other affairs.