A/N: Hey gang, 4 chapters to go and a sort-of epilogue, so I'm posting them all at once. I will blame any delay on LadyJaeza who published some new chapters to Hidden Stitches which I had to read hot off the press. Wade

Elizabeth woke up at seven as usual on her twenty first birthday.

The three days that had elapsed since what they all euphemistically called 'the first sister incident' in the Blue Parlor had been spent in a tremendous amount of reflection in odd moments between attending her duties. She had to admit that Mr. Darcy, while still quite confusing, seemed to be losing a good deal of his allotment of animosity. Perhaps the hole he had dug himself was down to the size of Netherfield, and their first meeting could even reduce it to the size of Longbourn. She had to sheepishly admit that most of his worst sins were seen by her through a prism of prejudice triggered by one ill‑mannered remark that would have been completely unremarkable in Longbourn.

Elizabeth was beginning to advance a hypothesis that the duties of a mistress would expand to include everything she was willing to accept. She had noticed a lot of things coming to her attention that should really have been settled by someone else. Consequently, she had started deflecting things back downward toward the people that should have dealt with them in the first place. Lady Matlock noticed the change, and she smiled in approval the first time she saw Elizabeth gently chide a footman, telling him that he was an intelligent man, who had been in the house more than a decade longer than her, and he should be able to use a bit of initiative.

Stewart brought her breakfast as usual, and the kitchen now seemed to know just what she wanted on any particular day. Elizabeth had no idea how they pulled it off, since she herself did not know what she wanted when she got out of bed. She imagined she had unconsciously decided on a policy of wanting whatever was on the tray so she would have one decision removed from her purview.

After breakfast, she had her bath as usual, and she had to be fitted for yet another dress as usual. Stewart had tried to suggest a new dress might be the thing, but Elizabeth tamped that idea down as hard as she could. While she was perfectly willing to act as mistress until Mr. Darcy returned, she expected his return any day.

Mr. Breton had told her that, based on the weather, the express rider had likely been delayed by at least two days, and possibly more, and the only thing Mr. Darcy would know about was the Measles. By then however, he should well have caught up with the gentleman wherever Mr. Darcy was, most likely Longbourn, and the master was almost certainly on his way. Breton's best guess was that they were two days from his arrival.

After bathing, and dressing, the mistress was interrupted by a note from one of the builders in Kympton. The man had an opportunity to purchase quite a large store of building material for the villagers from a bankrupt supplier. However, the decision had to be made within the hour, and the materials would have to be paid for in hard coin, which may or may not be recoverable from the villagers. Elizabeth thought this was probably a decision for Lady Matlock, but so far, that lady had steadfastly refused to make any judgements. The infuriating woman would only state that she would fully support any decision Elizabeth made. If they had financial consequences that annoyed her nephew, she would either cover the costs from Matlock's coffers, thump her nephew on the head, or both.

In the beginning, Elizabeth had worried over every pound, and had to think about £10. She had gradually got so an expenditure of £50-100 was fairly ordinary, but this was £1,000. The materials they were purchasing were worth close to two, so it was quite a good opportunity, but she had no idea at what rate the villagers could pay it back, or even if Mr. Darcy would demand repayment.

Elizabeth was thinking furiously about the matter, determined she would finally make Lady Matlock earn her keep, so she rushed out of the room to find her. The lady was probably still in her suite, so Elizabeth turned in that direction, but her progress was interrupted when she ran into a brick wall that had not been there previously. Before she could think, or even understand what was happening, she found herself falling backwards towards what was likely to be a painful and humiliating landing flat on her back.

Much to the lady's surprise, the ignominious fall was arrested in the middle, and she found herself gently restored to her feet. Her thinking was still a touch muddled, as she could feel a pair of strong hands holding her about the waist, and then noticed her hands were atop a pair of shoulders, and final, her eyes traveled up to find she was but a foot from the admittedly very handsome, but worried looking countenance of none other than Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Master of Pemberley.

In that instance, she was assailed with so many sensations, she had no possible way to sort them out. She was vaguely aware that his hands were still grasping her waist, and somewhat surprised to feel that it did not bother her in the least. As her dawning comprehension concentrated on that feeling, she found that his hands were neither grasping tighter than they needed to, nor did the owner seem in any hurry to release her. She felt, right in that moment, that those hands represented a bit of safety… as if Mr. Darcy wanted to insure her wellbeing and nothing else.

Her own hands she found resting on his shoulders, and she very curiously, felt no great need to remove them and restore the distance that propriety and long habit should require.

All of those thoughts circled her head leaving it quite muddled, and there were no convenient ghosts to advise her, so naturally her mouth spit out the very first thought that occurred to her addled mind.

"Mr. Darcy, what are you doing here?"

She was a bit distressed that the first words out of her mouth since the abominable proposal were an impertinent, and mostly irrelevant question, but was surprised to see something both new and unexpected. Mr. Darcy smiled, and in that smile, she saw things she might have recognized before if she had not been so biased against him. She had never seen a real smile from him, but she had seen their smaller cousins sometimes when he stared at her. Something about his countenance seemed… altered. She saw a hint of… what was it… perhaps chagrin… perhaps concern… perhaps impertinence… perhaps… vulnerability?

Before she could get her head reorganized to ask a more sensible question, the gentleman answered with a smile and a completely unexpected chuckle.

"I live here."

Elizabeth laughed at the obviously somewhat ridiculous exchange, but her mouth continued on without any sense whatsoever.

"Yes, sir, I am aware. I just meant… well… what are you doing in this part of the wing?"

Once again, she thought the question idiotic, but the gentleman did not seem to mind, as he flicked his eyes to a door a dozen feet away and replied with a gentle smile.

"That is my room."

Elizabeth looked at the door and found a bit of indignation in her reply.

"Why, that little minx! Georgie assigned me this room on my very first night here. What was she thinking placing me only a dozen feet from your chambers?"

Surprisingly, the gentleman started to laugh, but it was a gentle laugh, completely devoid of censure. It still muddled her thinking considerably. After his laughter died down, he replied.

"What indeed? But I must correct you on one particular. It is true the rooms are but fifteen feet apart, but that is only in the corridor. Inside, they are separated by the thickness of a door."

"She did not!"

Darcy chuckled, and said, "Perhaps my sister was being somewhat presumptuous, but I can assure you that I find no objection to you residing in the Mistress' Suite."

Elizabeth turned beet red in embarrassment. She did not know if she was more embarrassed by the impropriety of staying in that particular suite, or stupidity that she had not worked it out before. Of course, then she wondered if Georgiana had painted her in an even tighter corner than her own actions already had. However, she immediately decided it made little difference in the end. She had already been as presumptuous as it was possible to be, and it was hard to see how the choice of a bedchamber in that circumstance could change anything. It was just another gallon of water under the bridge.

Darcy noticed her consternation, leaned his head closer, and said, "Fear not, Elizabeth. Nobody will read any more into this than you desire. Perhaps Georgiana was just being hopeful. She is young, and a bit impetuous, but I should hope that you are not distressed by it?"

With a sigh, she said, "No, I suppose not. The entire experience has been so odd that it is difficult to know when we passed from unlikely to strange to ridiculous to fantastic."

Darcy chuckled, and said, "I shall, to the very best of my ability, insure that you have your own choices. I would not have you forced to any action by any factor other than your own desires."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I appreciate it."

That said, she did not know what to do. So far, this had been the most peculiar discussion, and not at all how she had expected to resolve their last conversation, if you could call it that, in Hunsford Cottage.

Elizabeth was mostly filled with confusion. She had come to know the real gentleman much better through the reports of his relatives and had come to a much better understanding of him. Of course, that just made her wonder what his interest in her was, and if it had even survived. If he was a man who regretted making an offer, he was certainly not acting like it, but it was difficult to believe a man with even a modicum of pride would still be interested in a woman who ran from him like a frightened rabbit.

Somewhat incongruously, Darcy said, "Jane, Anne and Mary Taylor will be here in a few hours, around ten at the very latest. I rode ahead to arrive last night. I talked to Breton and my aunt for some time, so I am aware of what a wonderful job you have been doing here. I cannot thank you enough for what you have done so far, and I will praise you to the skies, but I have substantial competition in that area."

Somewhat stumped, she said, "Jane?"

"Yes, I am on a given name basis with all of your sisters. They all wrote letters for you. Jane has them. I believe you also know that Jane has forgiven me my officious interference, little though I deserved it. Even Lydia wrote something, although Jane describes it as mostly a diatribe against my general lunkheadedness."

Elizabeth let out an exasperated sigh, and said, "You are the most confusing man!"

He chuckled, and said, "Yes, I know. I apologize, but my purpose here is to let you resolve the confusion, and I hope you like the man that your family has helped me become, better than my evil twin that you knew before."

"Evil twin?"

Darcy laughed, "A term Jane came up with. A bit hyperbolic, but accurate. I quite despise the man."

Even more confused now, Elizabeth felt her mind and her emotions swirling around in a mad dash. One minute she was running from him as fast as she could, and the next she was wishing he would be less gentlemanly with the hands still attached to her waist.

In an attempt to make order from her thoughts, she said, "Mr. Darcy… well… I… we need to…"

Darcy, either wisely or timidly said nothing, but kept looking into her eyes.

Needing something she could resolve, just to prove to herself that she was still capable of resolution, Elizabeth said, "This will sound incongruous, but… but…"

Darcy nodded kindly, and said, "How may I help?"

"I… well, I cannot call you Mr. Darcy. It muddles my thinking, and forgive me for saying this, but it may be some time before I can associate 'Mr. Darcy' with anything other than your evil twin."

Darcy chuckled, a sound Elizabeth was no longer so averse to, and said, "Almost everyone calls me 'Darcy'. Georgiana calls me 'Brother' or occasionally 'William'. Anne usually calls me 'Lunkhead'.'"

"Almost everyone calls me 'Lizzy' or occasionally 'Eliza'. I do not know why, but… I want something of my own – without attaching any more meaning to it."

Darcy smiled, and said, "We could prove ourselves to be radicals, upend all family tradition, and call each other 'Fitzwilliam ' and 'Elizabeth'."

"Yes, I would like that."

"Once again, how may I help you, Elizabeth. I can see you are nervous… as am I."

"We have so much… so much… so much…"

"Confusion? Misunderstanding? Expectations? Desires?"

Elizabeth laughed a bit, and said, "All of those and more. I imagine first things first. Do I have any reputation left? Am I obligated to anything to protect my sisters?"

Fitzwilliam gasped in shock at the very idea, and nearly shouted, "NO! I will not allow it. I have lumbered around like a bull in a china shop for a month, but your family and I have worked diligently and carefully to insure your reputation is sterling. I am resolved that you shall act in that manner, which will, in your own opinion, constitute your happiness, without reference to me, or to any person presently unconnected with you."

Elizabeth looked at him intently, and he gently squeezed her waist, which he was still holding, and said, "I will protect you, Elizabeth, regardless of what you choose. I will protect your choice. I swear this to you."

"Thank you… Fitzwilliam. I… well… I imagine if you are on a given name basis with Jane and Lydia you know how close I came to saying things that could not be unsaid in Hunsford?"

With a chuckle, Darcy replied, "Well, I can tell you that us Darcys are perhaps more resilient than you might think. I have been taken down by several pegs by Anne, Jane, Lady Matlock, Lydia, Mary… well, you get the idea. And yet, here I am."

Quite confusedly, Elizabeth asked, "Jane… my sister, Jane?"

Darcy chuckled again, and said, "I see twenty‑one years were insufficient for you get on her bad side. In general, I do not recommend it."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Jane… Jane Bennet!"

"The same. We have much to discuss about her, but she is happy. She is formidable. She has a new best friend. She has a purpose. You need not concern yourself with Jane."

Elizabeth just stared at him, and said, "Jane!"

Darcy just nodded.

"Is there anything else you wish to tell me about my family."

Darcy laughed, and said, "Oh, a great many things. I like them all tremendously. Your father and I can discuss literature for hours and assures me that you can do the same. Your younger sisters are lively and silly, but not overly so. Mary is less studious than you probably think. Kitty might crawl out from under Lydia's shadow soon. And best of all, your mother is a force to be reckoned with."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Do you ever see ghosts, Fitzwilliam ?"

Darcy smiled, and said, "Yes, I do. I discussed this very topic with Jane, not long after she made me cry… me!... a man grown. She theorizes that you listened to your mother, and that was what kept you from rejecting me outright."

Blushing beet red and stared at the floor, Elizabeth said, "She was right, although I do not wish to repeat what she said."

"As I said. Your mother gave me a chance. It is something I did not deserve, but I will accept it all the same. I like your mother very much."