Title: Dare to Refuse Such a Man
Rating: K+ (PG) – because I can't think of anything at this point which would constitute a higher rating. Should be sweet and clean.
Disclaimer: Though I write stories based on the novels and characters of Jane Austen, this work belongs to ME and no one else. Unless given express permission, no one besides myself has the right to distribute or profit from my intellectual property. All rights reserved.
Setting: Regency
Summary: It had never occurred to Fitzwilliam Darcy that, once he had chosen a bride, her father might dare to refuse his consent. However, a woman worthy of being pleased is also worth fighting for. DE, Regency, clean romance.
"He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything which he condescended to ask."
Mr Bennet, Pride and Prejudice Volume III, Chapter 17
Chapter Fifteen
Saturday
August 17, 1811
After a day of punishing travel in her father's carriage and another sleepless night spent at an inn, Elizabeth's exhaustion had reached a level which it had never attained before, causing her to sit almost perfectly still as her lethargy weighed her down like a large stone. She stared out of her window at the passing scenery, her eyes glazed over as other images from her memory superimposed upon it, and continued in the same attitude she had taken since leaving Derbyshire: silence.
Her father, sitting across from her on his own bench, she was aware had been made uneasy by her lack of conversation this past day and a half, but she truly had nothing to say to him. Elizabeth's fatigue was so complete that she could not even rouse herself to care much for his comfort in this situation and, in any case, felt that she was the one between the pair of them to be pitied, not he. Had Papa not ripped her away from Derbyshire, from William, he might have saved them both this most agonizing experience.
And why had he done it? Elizabeth still could not fathom why her father would deny her the attentions of a highly eligible man, one who, more importantly, she wished to marry. Papa had never denied her anything she had truly desired before, so why now? Why William? What could he possibly have against a gentleman whom he had yet to meet but who was, by the report of his daughter and trusted brother-in-law, a worthy man?
Elizabeth was missing some key piece of information to make this situation understandable. Her own preference for William aside, Papa should be happy to accept him as a son-in-law because he would be very able and, considering his generous nature, willing to care for her mother and sisters should her father's death leave them homeless. William was wealthy enough to support them all without strain in the event of a sudden change in their circumstances – what other man of their acquaintance could claim that? No, even from a more practical perspective, William was an excellent choice.
And so the question remained – why? No matter how many times she churned the available information around in her brain, Elizabeth could not understand her father's motives. Based on his evasion the night of her sudden retrieval, she doubted that he would be inclined to be forthcoming about them, either.
"If we keep up this pace, I think we shall be home before dinner," Papa commented. Elizabeth could hear his clothes rustling against the worn leather squabs and assumed he must be fidgeting in his seat; it was his habit whenever he was unnerved or faced with a situation he could not tease his way out of.
Elizabeth ignored him even as she recognized her petulance in doing so. It was more like Lydia to deny the existence of one of their parents when upset, but she genuinely had no words to offer at the present moment and so did not bother attempting any.
"I think our next stop will be for luncheon," her father continued to ramble, "and perhaps we could take a walk before getting back in the carriage. What do you think of that, Lizzy?"
As he had posited a question that demanded some sort of response, Elizabeth forced her lips to form a murmur – whether in assent or otherwise even she was not positive.
A heavy sigh from across the carriage alerted Elizabeth to the fact that Papa was growing frustrated with her silence. Very well, let him suffer for his actions for once – Elizabeth did not pity him a jot.
"Lizzy, you must speak to me sometime."
Must she?
"What I have done was for the best. It might not be apparent now, but you will see. Once we arrive home and things go back to the way they should be, you will get over him tolerably well."
This assertion was so arrogant in all of its ignorance that Elizabeth slowly swiveled her head in her father's direction, the muscles in her face clenching into an involuntary array of taut features which displayed her anger clearly. Papa was not immune to this realization and looked, if his raised eyebrows and slackened jaw were to be accounted, rather startled by it.
"Come now, Lizzy!" Papa chided once it became apparent that she was still disinclined for speech. His tone then shifted to one of sly teasing as he continued, "Do not be missish over the loss of one lover. Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and then. It is something to think of, and gives you a sort of distinction amongst your companions. Had I allowed you to remain, I am sure he would have jilted you creditably, but do not persist in this silence simply because I have forced the inevitable conclusion a mite early. You will thank me one day."
At the sight of her father's sardonic smirk, one which invited her to share in his amusement at a situation which caused her nearly intolerable pain, Elizabeth's resolve to maintain her composure snapped like a thread pulled too tightly. "If I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you – but I cannot. You have denied me my one true chance at happiness and I shall never forgive you for it."
Papa reared back as if she had lurched across the floor space between them and physically attacked him, his eyebrows dipping down at the center and his mouth gaping open in offense. "Now, see here, Elizabeth. I will not have you speaking to me in that – "
"And why have you done it, sir?" Elizabeth interrupted him ferociously, ignoring his rebuke. "I know that there is no urgent need for me to return home at the present moment, not when all is well at Longbourn and my trip was meant to last for several weeks yet. Your impetus must have had something to do with my courtship with William – do not bother to deny it!" she cut him off as he was opening his mouth to say something and then he shrank back, confirming that her guess had been accurate. "You specifically came to Derbyshire to dissolve my relationship with William – why? You owe me at least that much explanation."
Papa's expression closed into one of implacable stubbornness, his jaw thrust forward and his eyes narrowed behind his spectacles in her direction. "I owe you no such thing, Elizabeth, and you will lower your voice."
Elizabeth clenched her teeth together to forcibly restrain the words which she longed to assault him with, her longstanding love and respect for her father warring with the anger she felt at his flippant disregard for her feelings currently. Deciding, at length, that it was better to say nothing at all rather than to risk antagonizing the situation further, Elizabeth jerked her head back in the direction of the window and resumed her previous activity of blindly watching the scenery pass.
This, apparently, was not satisfactory to Papa, who sighed in a way that could be understood in no other way than as frustration. "Lizzy," he began, resuming the use of her pet name with weary irritation rather than affection, "I will not continue to tolerate this treatment. I do not understand what you are in such high dudgeon over this – he would not have proposed in the end. Rich men like this Darby fellow – "
"Mr Darcy!" his daughter corrected, hissing at him through her teeth. She squeezed her eyes shut as her emotions began to boil over again.
"His name is not the issue," replied Papa testily. "My point is that I have saved you from a great disappointment and you should be grateful. As I was saying, rich men like your Darcy do not attach themselves to penniless country ladies such as yourself as families like the Bennets are not grand enough for them. He might have led you to believe that he would, but I guarantee you that he would not have followed through. He was trifling with you."
Whipping her head back in her father's direction, Elizabeth automatically denied, "He was not trifling with me! He asked my uncle for a courtship a month ago and has behaved honorably throughout our acquaintance. William would never tarnish a lady's reputation."
"You think that, if it gives you comfort," was Papa's snide, condescending reply, "but I have it on good authority that men of his ilk are not above flirting with a young lady whom they know will be in their company only temporarily. I am sure that he would have flattered you and made love to you until you left the country at the end of your tour and then never seen nor spoken to you again. If it be not the case, why has he not made his offer before now?"
Elizabeth's teeth were beginning to ache with the amount of pressure she was exerting to keep them clamped together. After a soothing exhale, she replied, as calmly as she was capable, "He was about to propose when you came to collect me. He had requested a private audience with me, as I have already told you, and I am certain he meant to make me his offer then. Had you not whisked me away, William would no doubt be asking permission for my hand this moment – if he had not already done so!"
Papa scoffed at this, snorting in his derision for her hypothesis. "I am sure."
"It is true!" exclaimed Elizabeth, her voice rising again to an unladylike pitch. "William cares for me – loves me, I believe, and would have made me his wife if you had not interfered."
"Or," said her father, both eyebrows raised high on his forehead and his mouth set in a grim line that was unfamiliar to his face, "he would have fed you some pretty words and convinced you to compromise your virtue."
Elizabeth gasped, both out of shock and genuine outrage. "Impossible! William would not have – "
"Ha!" Papa barked, his teeth glinting in the sharp afternoon sunlight streaming through the open windows. "That is what men like Mr Darcy do, my dear. They make a pretty, silly girl fall in love with them and then, once they have achieved their true aim," he looked pointedly over his spectacles at her, his inflection heavy, "they abandon them like so much rubbish. Love is for fools, rakes and fairy tales – it does not exist, no matter what novels may tell you, and I had expected you, of all my daughters, to know better. Lydia and Kitty are foolish enough to believe in such nonsense, as carried away as they are by their own silliness, but had thought better of your sense. Apparently, I was mistaken."
The insult to her rationality burned, but she was not to be cowed by her father's speech. Elizabeth had faith in William and what they had shared between them, not doubting for an instant that she had the right of the matter. William did love her; even had he not said so explicitly, – and he most certainly had! – he had shown her in various small ways that had sent her heart racing and her mind whirling. From the way he would shyly brush his fingers over hers while they walked, to how he always considered her comfort above his own, marked a man whose feelings of adoration would not be repressed. And then there was the way he stared at her, so intensely as if he could see none but her in a room full of people…
Let her father think what he would. Elizabeth knew better. "If this is your opinion on the matter, then there is nothing left to say," she croaked as her throat clotted with emotion and her eyes began to sting with moisture. Blinking rapidly to dispel the rising tears, not wishing to show weakness in this moment, she lifted her chin and squared it defiantly as she looked directly into her father's eyes. "But know that what I said before is the absolute truth – I will never forgive you for this."
She thrust her gaze back out the window just as, against her efforts to the contrary, her vision began to blur, tears forcing themselves out of her eyes and down the curve of her cheek in a gushing torrent of anger and grief. Elizabeth did not bother to wipe them away, knowing the futility of such an action when more would just spill forth, and allowed them to drip steadily from the tip of her chin into her lap. The backs of her gloves felt damp where she clenched her skirts within her tightly knotted fists, caught under the waterfall of her irrepressible despair.
The only peace she could derive in this moment was the fact that her father, finally, had given up on conversation. Now that the interior of the carriage was no longer filled with voices, Elizabeth could only hear the sounds of the wheels crunching over gravel, the occasional twitter of birds in the trees beyond the window and the soft rush of late summer wind rustling the landscape. She closed her eyes and allowed the strain of her tears and the exhaustion of two missed nights of sleep to lull her into a doze.
Behind her eyes, all she saw was William.
o0o
Some hours later, Elizabeth's body was relieved to stop in front of her family home even if her heart and mind preferred to be in Derbyshire. They had stopped for luncheon and to change the horses a few times – an expense which was as mysterious as their haste since it was more economical to rest their steeds and take the journey in longer stages – but had otherwise stayed on the road all day in order to reach Hertfordshire before dark. Elizabeth could not guess exactly why her father felt it necessary to complete their trip at such an expeditious pace, but it felt strongly as if they were fleeing from something. Her courtship with William, she suspected, though she had yet to acquire a legitimate reason for why.
Well, she was likely to never know the reason behind her father's sudden and intense desire to split them apart, judging by his stony silence on the subject since he had come to fetch her home. Papa, though espousing many opinions as to the fidelity of William's feelings and Elizabeth's own supposedly silly infatuation, had yet to express his true motives and likely was never going to. Her curiosity begged to be sated, her heart practically demanded an explanation, but Elizabeth would almost certainly be forced to be satisfied with silence and learn to live without ever knowing.
Worse, she would be forced to live without ever seeing William again as, even were he inclined to look for her, Papa had all but refused his suit and it seemed he would not be moved from that point. She had been tempted to give William her direction in the letter she had left him – and even now wondered if her aunt had delivered it and if he had read it – but ultimately had not since her father had seemed so implacable on the issue. It had been better, Elizabeth had felt at the moment of writing, to say her farewells and regrets and encourage him to move forward without her. The irrational part of her mind wished that he might still come seeking her, but then she reminded herself how ridiculous that was in light of the fact that she could have expressly told him to come for her and had not; it was not her way to hint at something when she could say it outright, something William had learned during their brief time together.
Moreover, Elizabeth was no princess in a tower, held against her will by a fire breathing dragon, and William was not a daring adventurer with a sword to slay her captor. It would be better were the situation that simple, a matter of uncontested good against the pettiness of evil, but it was not. They were two people bound by the strictures of society and the unimpeachable authority of parental consent – or lack thereof, in this case. Her father was not a dragon, even if it felt that way presently, and they were both required to submit to his wishes no matter how inconceivable his reasoning.
Elizabeth closed her eyes a moment, collecting the calm she had gathered during the hours of quiet in the carriage, and inhaled deeply. She released her breath and lifted her lids, prepared to face her mother and sisters inside, though hardly looking forward to all their questions about her visit with the Gardiners and how she had liked Derbyshire. She would answer them all with composure, if not good cheer, and then send herself to bed early so that she might indulge in further solitude.
That decided upon, Elizabeth prepared to stand – only to be stopped by a large hand upon her own. Looking up at her father, she questioned him with a look, one which was almost certainly petulant.
Papa ignored the disrespect she was showing him to say, "Lizzy, before we go in I must insist that you not tell anyone about your...your little flirtation over the summer."
"It was not – "
"Yes, yes," Papa cut off impatiently, his lips puckering together in a sharp frown, "I am aware of your opinion on the subject and that is not the issue at hand. I ask you – command you, even, as your father – to refrain from telling anyone about your courtship. It would not do to upset your mother, nor would I wish for rumors to start if your youngest sisters feel the need to gossip about it with our neighbors. Am I understood?"
So, he preferred to pretend that it had never happened? To go on with life as if William had never existed, never loved her?
Though indignant over these uncharitable thoughts of her father, Elizabeth could not deny that to tell Mama and the younger girls about William would only invite strife into their home. She, in her present state of hurt, was not especially concerned about how badly affected Papa would be by the wails and giggles such news would bring to Longbourn, but there was still her own pain and humiliation to consider. Did she want her mother bemoaning the loss of a wealthy son-in-law for the foreseeable future, poking unintentionally and unfeelingly at the open wound in Elizabeth's heart? Did she want Kitty and Lydia undermining the true affection she shared with William by teasing her about him and airing her disappointment to all their acquaintance? No, her father's comfort aside, she preferred to keep the matter to herself as much as possible. If she were to ever come to peace with the loss, to properly grieve, she would need to do so with as much privacy as possible. She could never marry another, of course, but to have the shadow of William looming over her in spinsterhood would make the emptiness of her future life that much more difficult to bear.
However, to keep the secret entirely bottled up inside was almost more unbearable, so she countered, "I wish to tell Jane."
"I do not think it a good idea, Lizzy," cautioned Papa, one wary eyebrow raised.
"Jane will tell no one, Papa," Elizabeth defended, "and I must speak to someone of...of my disappointment. As I think it best to keep it within the family, Jane is the only choice."
Papa sighed and dropped his head, his chin bouncing once against his chest in defeat. "Very well, you may tell Jane. But only Jane, am I understood?"
"Yes, Papa."
With no further entreaties to make, Papa descended from the carriage and held out his hand to assist Elizabeth down. His second daughter ignored the proffered help and alighted from the equipage under her own power, pretending not to see it beyond the rim of her bonnet. He harrumphed to show that he had not been fooled before walking ahead of her into the house.
"Why, Lizzy! What do you do here?" cried Mama upon Elizabeth's entrance into the family parlor, her outerwear already taken upstairs by the maid who happened to be passing in the hall. "I had not expected you home for weeks yet! Is my brother not with you? He surely did not send you post by yourself! Oh, we are all ruined – "
"We are not ruined, Mama," said Elizabeth calmly as she stiffly strode across the floor and bent to kiss her mother upon one cheek. Her muscles were still somewhat pained by the lack of significant movement for the past two days. "Papa came to fetch me and brought me home himself. Did he not tell you?"
The rest of the family party – save for Papa, who had tromped immediately up the stairs to his book room upon entrance to the house – looked at Elizabeth with some shock and wonder as she made this announcement. Had none of them even noticed that their father had been absent for the better part of a week? What kind of habits did he keep in her absence?
"No, and that is just like him," her mother griped, flicking her lacy handkerchief in an irritated fashion. "Leaving the country without telling anyone what he was about! But why did not you inform us of your coming? I expect your father to tell me nothing, but your last letter did not say anything of your returning early from your travels."
Elizabeth settled herself on the settee next to Jane and exchanged a smile with her, though her own was rather weary, before explaining briefly, "At the time of my last letter, I did not yet know that I would be leaving. It was all rather sudden." Truthful, yet not too explicit.
"I do not suppose you came home engaged?" Mama asked, though her scoffing tone clearly indicated that she doubted it very much. Elizabeth felt something deep inside of her clench painfully and reached out her hand to clasp Jane's for support, which had been resting delicately in her sister's lap. Jane, her surprise obvious to Elizabeth, darted a glance toward her younger sister at this desperate motion. "No, of course not! With all your ridiculous notions and pert opinions it will be a miracle if any man will have you! I do not know what I shall do with you when your father is dead, indeed I do not."
As their mother began one of her often heard and rather infamous tirades about starving in the hedgerows, Jane tugged lightly at the hand Elizabeth had pressed upon her and whispered, "Are you well, Lizzy?"
Elizabeth shook her head very slightly so that Mama would not notice and responded, very quietly, "We will speak about it later, dearest."
Jane nodded and they both turned their attention back to Mama who was continuing to wail over the injustice of the entail, the presumably demonic nature of Mr Collins, her unfeeling, unmarried daughters, and so on. "I do not know what is to become of us all!" she finally exclaimed, drawing to a dramatic close with her hand pressed over her reportedly palpitating heart.
Having waited just for this opening, Lydia immediately changed the subject, asking, "What did you bring me from Derbyshire, Lizzy?"
o0o
Later that evening, after suffering through her family's excitable chatter at dinner, Elizabeth was finally alone again as she prepared for bed. She stared at herself in the mirror as she absentmindedly braided her hair, a function she could perform by rote after so many years of binding it that way, and dully contemplated the events of the past weeks in comparison to those of the last couple of days. She had been so happy and now…
A quiet knock at the door indicated the presence of Jane, the only person in their family who either visited Elizabeth after venturing upstairs or would have bothered to request entrance if she did. Her younger sisters could occasionally be found within her bedchamber, but almost invariably after bursting in without invitation. "Come in," Elizabeth called softly.
As the portal opened with a light creak, a symptom that all the hinges in the household shared as they had reached a certain age, Elizabeth's suspicions of the identity of her visitor were confirmed as Jane poked her head through the space between the door and its frame. "Are you amenable to a talk, Lizzy?"
"Yes, dearest," Elizabeth replied, her affection for her sister diminishing the pain of her recent separation slightly.
Jane stepped lightly into the room, her nightgown and robe flaring about her ankles as she turned to close the door behind her, and then took a seat upon the end of Elizabeth's bed. The younger sister tied the end of her hair securely with a bit of lavender ribbon and joined the elder there, tucking her feet beneath the covers as she leaned up against the headboard.
"You seemed distressed when Mama was asking you about your trip," Jane observed.
Elizabeth bent forward to wrap both of her arms around her knees, resting her chin upon the pillar that they created. "Yes," she admitted with a gusty sigh.
"Can you tell me why?" Jane asked, reaching out to rest her hand atop Elizabeth's ankle. She rubbed her thumb lightly against Elizabeth's foot in a show of tactile support and comfort.
Elizabeth buried her face within the pillow of her folded arms, taking a moment to collect the fortitude required to begin this discussion, and then raised it again to look at Jane. "I...met someone."
Jane looked startled, though most people would not recognize her expression as such. Her eyebrows were but slightly raised, her mouth almost imperceptibly slackened, but Elizabeth could recognize the surprise for what it was. "As in, a man?"
"No need to sound so disbelieving," Elizabeth jested, a little bubble of mirth escaping her lips in a short laugh. She sobered quickly, however, and continued, "Yes, a man. I...we...he asked me for a courtship, and I accepted. He was about to...well, I think he was about to ask me to marry him, but then Papa came to take me home."
"Will he come to Hertfordshire, do you think? To speak to Papa?"
Elizabeth shook her head in the negative. "No, he will not. I cannot account for it, but Papa does not approve of the attachment between us. That was made very evident by the fact that he refused to stay and meet William before we left and then further clarified by the opinions he shared on the journey home. He has all but explicitly denied his consent for the match and will not explain why."
Now the look on Jane's face could be misinterpreted by no one, no matter the length of their acquaintance with her; she was shocked. "But why, Lizzy? Was he – pardon, 'William,' was it?"
Elizabeth blushed lightly and chastised herself for referring to William – Mr Darcy – so informally. Now that there could be nothing left between them, she would do well to remember that his Christian name was off limits to her. At least outside the confines of her mind and heart. "Mr Darcy."
"I know that you are not prone to giving your heart away to just anyone," – the "like Kitty and Lydia" was left unsaid but understood by both sisters – "but was Mr Darcy in some way unsuitable? Was he not a gentleman or...or unable to care for you?"
This time Elizabeth's laugh was harsh and angry. She kicked her feet free of the blankets and placed them on the floor, raising her self from the bed so that she might pace about the room. "Mr Darcy is the most eligible man I – or any of us – have ever met! I do not know his true income, nor have I bothered to ask, but by the measure of his estate alone he is by far wealthier than Papa. He would be able to care for me with no strain at all and I am certain he would look after Mama and any of the rest of us who remained unmarried after Papa's passing if it were necessary. More than that, he is a true gentleman from a long established family, one who could marry just about any woman he desired. Why he prefers me to all others I cannot say, but I know that he cared for me – loved me, even. I even told Papa that he was the man of my choice, but he would not hear it! I cannot understand it – is there something I have overlooked?"
"I do not know," Jane said, her eyes trailing after Elizabeth's motion as her younger sister walked back and forth before her vanity, her bare feet pattering against the floorboards. "If Mr Darcy is as eligible as you say, if he is honorable and true, then I cannot account for why Papa would not approve. Perhaps there has been some terrible mistake and he has misunderstood Mr Darcy's intentions?"
Elizabeth snorted. "He said something to that effect, though I am not convinced that he truly believes it. My uncle sent a letter to Papa a month ago in regards to Mr Darcy's courtship, so it makes little sense why he would think that Mr Darcy was trifling with me! If that were the case, why would he ask permission to court me? No – Papa is wrong about Mr Darcy's affections and intentions and I cannot fathom why he might think differently."
Jane chewed on her lip, her hands wringing one another in her lap, as she suggested, "I am sure that Papa has your best interests at heart, though his methods appear misguided. Perhaps there is something we do not know – some missing information which, once better understood, could lead to a happier resolution than we can expect at present. I am sure if you explained about Mr Darcy's honorable nature – "
"I have explained, Jane!" Elizabeth interrupted, her anger against their father rising and taxing her temper to the breaking point. "I have told him as explicitly as I know how that William – Mr Darcy – is genuine in his intentions, but Papa insists that love is nothing but a trick used by rakes to rob young ladies of their virtue and will hear nothing of it!"
Jane pressed her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. "No! Papa could not mean that!"
"I assure you, he did," rebutted Elizabeth, her jaw clenching as the memories of their acrimonious conversation from that morning reached the forefront of her mind. "He said that I was silly to believe in love and that men like Mr Darcy do not marry penniless country ladies. He said that I should be grateful to him for stepping in and sparing me the disappointment of never receiving an offer!"
Elizabeth was struggling to keep her voice to a conversational level, but she longed to burst forth with a scream. She suspected she might feel better if she were allowed to purge this anger, fear, disappointment, regret and despair that churned inside her like a tempest.
"And I was unable to convince him otherwise. He simply will not believe me when I say that William was about to make me an offer! Jane, he asked for a private audience the night that Papa arrived to take me home – had our departure been delayed even by a day, I am sure I would have had an engagement to announce to him. Not that he would have sanctioned it."
"Oh, Lizzy…," Jane seemed to be unable to fathom this behavior of their father's – and, indeed, Elizabeth struggled with the irrationality of it all herself – and so could only offer her sweet sympathy.
"I do not know what I am to do without him, Jane," Elizabeth confessed, the despair rising above all the other emotions warring for dominance within her and bringing forth a choked sob. She covered her face with both of her hands and stopped in the middle of her bedroom, the manic energy she had put into her pacing draining away as the heaviness of her melancholy held her in place.
As Elizabeth's feelings achieved some measure of release, ultimately unsatisfying though it was, Jane rose from the bed and wrapped her arms around her younger sister. Elizabeth turned slightly and allowed Jane to coddle her, burying her face in the muslin at the elder's shoulder.
"What am I to do…?"
Author's Note: I swear, it starts looking up soon.
Fun/stupid/pointless fact: Mr Bennet calls Darcy "Darby" because there's a typo in my edition of Pride and Prejudice. I even circled it because I really can't help myself. XD
Btw, the next chapter marks the end of "Volume I: Derbyshire" and then we move into "Volume II: Hertfordshire" in Chapter 17. It won't be posted separately (kinda like the three volumes of the original novel were ultimately published together) so don't worry if you're following this one. All this really means is that we finally get to see what comes after the assembly in the prologue...
Next Update: March 27, 2020 (End of Volume I)
Expected Completion Date: July 24, 2020
– MrsMarySmythe
