A/N: This is a repost of an old fic. I completed 10 chapters before I took my long hiatus from fandom. As with my other WIPs, I do plan to continue this one! I will be tackling one fic at a time, however. So if you don't see updates for a while on this one, don't fear. I will get to it!

So, a little background for this tale: I love all things Jane Austen, but it was not Pride and Prejudice that was the original inspiration of this tale. Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell has that honor. While this is Regency inspired, I've created a whole new world here. I attempted to create the classical feel of that era, but this is far, far from a perfect imitation of it. And finally, there are a lot of original characters here, but I endeavored to stay true to the characterization of Sarah, Jareth, et al.

Special thanks to my original betas, cu-kid and nexttosomething!

CHAPTER ONE
Fate's Capricious Nature

"I have heard that Lord Kingston is to retire to the country in less than a year's time," Aunt Mary said, breaking the evening silence as she pulled a stitch out of her embroidery, her face bathed in the flickering firelight of the hearth.

Sarah afforded her aunt the barest glance before returning to her reading. She had little interest in idle gossip.

She had been visiting the Ingleby residence, her father's sister and family, for the last month as Mr. Williams was himself in the South on business. He had felt uncomfortable leaving Sarah home alone in his absence, and she needed no excuse to see her beloved cousin and enjoy a respite for society in Laborintus.

"Indeed?" Elizabeth, Sarah's cousin, looked up from her needlework. "He has ruled over the Labyrinth for as long as anyone can remember—some say more than five centuries. Does he have an heir? Who is to inherit?"

Aunt Mary smiled. "Lord Kingston has two sons and a daughter, in fact. They have all three been at court in Aulderon for these many years." She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "The eldest, who will inherit, is said to be quite handsome, though his manner is less than pleasing. The younger brother is the more affable of the two. Both are unattached. I have heard little of the daughter aside from her unsurpassable beauty."

Elizabeth squealed with delight. "Do you think they will hold a ball? I have never attended one put on by immortals before." She placed a hand on Sarah's arm. "You have, though, cousin. What was it like?"

Sarah stifled a sigh. She recalled the Masque she had attended three years before when she had come out into society. The music, the laughter, and gaiety had been overwhelming. She had not a moment's peace during the ordeal. Each time she made as if to sit and rest, a masked immortal would implore her to dance. Her father had said it was because she was beautiful—that the Fae liked pretty things. Sarah had disliked being treated as though she were a trinket to be passed around rather than a young woman of eighteen years with tired feet.

"It was rather lively," she replied, fingering the page of her book.

Elizabeth clapped her hands, her laughter shaking her blonde ringlets. "Oh, Sarah! How you understate everything! I'm certain it was thrilling. I'm quite jealous of you, you know. You have such connections!"

Sarah gave her cousin a patient smile. "Perhaps you shall have to call upon us when Lord Kingston has another ball. Though, I daresay you might discover the experience to be very different from what you imagine—and not for the better."

Aunt Mary shook her head. "How is your poor father to marry you off well when you speak so, dear niece? One would believe you have no intention of accepting a good match at all. Why, if Mr. Ingleby had half of the connections your father has, I would have seen Elizabeth settled immediately."

"I'm certain Father would have made a proper match for me long ago had there been one." Sarah tucked her legs beneath her on the divan, growing tired of the conversation. "As to his connections, I am certain he would be willing to lend you some. They do me no good. I am of the opinion that I would be happier running away with some poor farmer—or perhaps I might live out my life alone as a novelist. Both are far more romantic notions than being courted for my dowry."

Elizabeth gasped. "How can you say such things? You would have no less than thirty suitors—even among the Fae—if you could hold your tongue."

Aunt Mary offered her daughter a comforting hand. "I am afraid it cannot be helped, Elizabeth. What can be expected of a young woman who has had no mother? Sarah has only the presence of men in her upbringing, and their coarseness has made her speech scandalous." She turned to Sarah. "I do wish your father would remarry. You need the gentle touch of a woman to polish you to a shine."

Sarah bit back a retort, clenching her jaw at her aunt's words. Why did everyone act as though Sarah were not enough as she was? She felt complete and saw no need to upset the pleasant life she shared with her father.

"But I have you, dear aunt." She gave Aunt Mary's hand a gentle squeeze. "Your tutelage has been more than sufficient."

Aunt Mary made a derisive sound. "I'm afraid my influence has been of little benefit to you. Your manners are ruined beyond repair." She sighed. "At least you have your beauty. There might be a man of good standing yet who can tolerate an outspoken woman if she has alluring features. I still have hope for you, my dear."

Sarah turned back to her book, choosing not to reply. She ignored her aunt and cousin as they continued to prattle on about what it would be like to attend a ball put on by immortals. At times Sarah wished she had been born to a humble farmer or a clergyman. Then she wouldn't have to concern herself with society or care about pleasing her family with a marriage to a man of rank and fortune. The poor could marry for love—or not marry at all. It was a beautiful dream.

Unfortunately, fate had not seen fit to give her that kind of freedom. She was born to as much privilege as a mortal could hope for. In fact, her mother had been half-Fae. Sarah could reasonably expect to outlive many other mortals her age—her cousin included—and she'd been told by one of her governesses that she might have a little magic as well. Sarah had seen no manifestation of special powers as of yet.

The combination of her father's rank, her mother's lineage, and her large dowry made Sarah more than an excellent match for any human suitor and an acceptable one for any of the lower Fae nobles. Most mortal women would rejoice to be gifted with such circumstances. Sarah, however, counted it a burden. She was still a young woman, and until her father demanded she settle, she would continue to rebuff all enticements to wed.

"Sarah," Elizabeth said, interrupting her musings, "have you spent time at the castle? What is it like? Are the goblins as hideous as they say? What is Lord Kingston like? Is it true that he looks not a day over five and thirty?"

"I can hardly answer if you do not pause for breath!" Sarah laughed at her cousin's exuberance, holding up a hand to stave off further questioning. "I have not had the misfortune of visiting the Labyrinth or the castle at its center. I cannot tell you what goblins are like. However, I have met his Lordship and the rumors are, in fact, true. If he were mortal, I would have guessed his age to be that of a young man rather than one who has lived for several hundred years—all of the Fae are so."

"Have you seen him work magic? Have you met his children?" Elizabeth set aside her embroidery and leaned on her elbows. "Oh, don't leave out any details, Sarah! You must give your poor country cousin this gift."

Sarah shook her head, wondering what glorious delusions were frittering about in lovely Elizabeth's head. Surely the truth would fail to live up to those elevated expectations.

"Perhaps I can prevail upon Father to let you visit for the Equinox two months hence? Then you may have all your questions answered. Lord Kingston is sure to hold a celebration." Sarah closed her book. "I think I shall retire for the evening."

She was not the least tired and would have preferred to finish her book, but she knew Elizabeth would not be satisfied with only a promise of a visit. Sarah dearly loved her energetic cousin, but she did not want to spend the rest of the evening answering questions about the Fae.

Tomorrow her father would come to collect her, and she could return home to quiet solitude.

Sarah walked a path down the countryside, neglecting to keep the hems of her dress and cloak out of the snow. Her aunt would fuss over her carelessness when she returned, but for the moment, Sarah reveled in the fresh air—even if it was chill. She paused at a copse of trees, their limbs laden with fluffy, white powder, and pulled out the letter from her father that had arrived that morning, rereading the words which had sliced her heart.

My dear Sarah,

I hope this message finds you in good spirits. I know you have always enjoyed your visits with your aunt and cousin, and I expect this time has been no different.

I am sure it is apparent by now I will be late in retrieving you. I fear business has gone slower than planned. Lord Kingston is quite adamant that all his affairs are in order before he passes the rule of the Labyrinth to his heir. No doubt such rumor has reached even the countryside by now, and I can confirm the truth of it. Lord Kingston's children are set to arrive at Laborintus by the Equinox, and I shall meet my new employer then. I can only hope, for our sake, Lord Jareth Kingston will be as generous as his father.

I hesitate to share the other reason for my delay, as I know such news may not be to your liking. As much as my heart wishes you to rejoice for my good fortune, I know the adjustment will be great. I have and will always love your mother, but after decades spent as a widower, I have decided it is time to remarry. I have met someone who has stirred my long dormant affection, and I hope you will embrace her as your new mother. She is a good woman, widowed herself but a few years ago. I believe she will offer you the benefit of motherly love, something you have lacked in your upbringing.

She also has a young son, Tobias, who is but six years in age. I know of your affection for children and hope you shall adore your new brother.

Please forgive me for making a swift decision without your counsel, but you are a young woman now. I doubt it will be long before you make your own home with a worthy man.

I will come before the Equinox, after Karen and Tobias are settled at home. Please convey my gratitude to your aunt for allowing an extended stay.

Yours always, Robert Williams

Sarah folded the letter and held it against her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. She felt a tumult of emotions churning within her—disappointment the most prevalent. Why had Father changed everything? Hadn't he been as happy as she? Apparently not.

And what of this widow who had captured her father's heart? The letter gave little information on her other than Father's apparent affection for her. Sarah had been used to being the lady of the Williams estate, and now another woman was usurping the role. In a mere few words, Sarah's world had turned upside-down.

A distant sound of horse hooves pulled her from her melancholy thoughts. Sarah hastily wiped away her tears as two men rode to a halt near her.

"Ho!" called the first, dismounting when the horse settled. As he strode closer, leaving the other man to tend the horses, Sarah surmised he was an immortal. He had dark, wavy hair, pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and pale green eyes. His handsome face had an aura about it no human could imitate.

Sarah gave him a deep curtsey when he approached. "I apologize if I interrupted your ride, milord."

"What a beautiful interruption it is," he said, smiling. "Please refrain from apologies. My horse would thank you for the break." He held out his hand. "I am Edmund Locksley of Aulderon. Who might you be?"

Sarah blushed as he kissed the top of her hand. "Sarah Williams of Laborintus."

He raised a brow. "Might you be the daughter of Robert Williams?"

Sarah nodded. "I am, indeed."

"You are far from home, Miss Williams." He glanced about. "And without a companion, I believe."

Sarah felt a nervous flutter in her heart as she recalled her father's warnings over the years about being alone in the countryside. His association with Lord Kingston had given her freedom to walk the hills near her home without fear of being snatched by an immortal who might favor her dark hair and emerald eyes. Too stricken by her father's news, she had forgotten she had no such protection in her aunt's country.

"Please, sir," she said, her voice quivering, "my aunt will be waiting for me."

Edmund laughed. "Fear not, Miss Williams. Kingston would have my head if I were to spirit away with you—pretty thing, though you are."

Sarah let out a breath of relief. "You know his Lordship?"

"The ruler of the Labyrinth?" He shook his head. "I have not yet made his acquaintance. I refer to his son who is a dear friend of mine."

Sarah frowned. "But I only learned yesterday Lord Kingston has offspring. How is it his son knows of me?"

"Allow me to escort you to your aunt's home, and I shall reveal the mystery." Edmund turned to his companion, waving him off. In a heartbeat, the other man and both horses faded out of existence as though they had been only specters. The sudden disappearance would have been startling if Sarah hadn't been exposed much of her life to Fae magic.

"Shall we?" Edmund asked, offering his arm to her.

Sarah took it, letting him set a leisurely pace.

"As I am sure you are aware, Lord Kingston holds your father in high regard." At Sarah's nod, Edmund continued, "I do not think he sends a single letter without mentioning Robert Williams in some form. And he also speaks well of you."

"Me? I have met him but few times in my short life." Sarah found the revelation surprising.

"Your encounters must have been memorable, then." Edmund shrugged. "He says you are unlike other mortal women. You do not refrain from speaking your mind, nor do you play games to ensnare the affections of a Fae lord to increase your standing in society." He grinned. "I'm pleased to be the first to test the veracity of these claims—though Kingston will be put out that I laid eyes on you before he did."

Sarah's cheeks reddened with both embarrassment and indignation. "Am I a curiosity, then? A spectacle to be toyed with until you all grow tired of me?" She felt, in this moment, the same sense of being put on display as she had experienced at the Masque years before.

Edmund tossed his head back, laughing. "Every word is true, I see. How refreshing you are, Miss Williams." He winked at her. "Though, I will warn that the new Lord Kingston might not enjoy your candor quite so well."

Sarah released his arm when the house was in view. "Then I shall have to avoid making his acquaintance." She gave Edmund a curtsey. "You have my thanks for seeing me safely home."

He bowed. "The pleasure was mine, Miss Williams. I shall look forward to our next encounter with bated breath." He vanished as soon as the words left his mouth.

Elizabeth came running to Sarah's side. "He was one of them! Oh, Sarah, how I wish you had beseeched him to stay for dinner! Who was he?"

Sarah linked her arm with her cousin's. "A friend of one of Lord Kingston's sons, it seems. We crossed paths by happenstance."

"Which son?"

"He never said." Sarah led Elizabeth to the house. "I assume the younger as he warned me of the elder."

Elizabeth sighed. "You have the most exciting life, Sarah. How can you be so unmoved by it?"

"Overexposure, I suppose." Sarah patted Elizabeth's hand. "If I could take your place and give you mine, I would do so without hesitation, dear cousin."

Elizabeth laughed. "Come," she said, pulling Sarah through the front doors. "You must tell me everything he said!"

Sarah followed her cousin, lightened by her companionship. She would brood over her father's letter and Edmund's words later, but for now, she would revel in the cheerful company of family.

A/N: Thank you for taking a chance on this tale. I'd love to hear your thoughts if you have a minute!