Dear Sunday friends, thank you for the review. I love reading them. Your comments help make the story more interesting.

I've angst warning here for this chapter. Still, I hope you will soldier on and send me your thoughts. Cheers Enid

Chapter Eight

1809

Just as life seemed to flourish for Mrs. Bennet, her contentment vanished in an instant.

Mrs. Bennet, Lydia and James, accompanied by his nursemaid, picnicked at the Pemberley Pond on a sunny afternoon. After a time, Mrs. Bennet was called away to attend to Lord Radbourne, leaving little James in care of his sister and the nursemaid. In the middle of Mrs. Bennet's flirtation with the elderly lord, Lydia rushed in, yelling that James was missing.

"What?" Mrs. Bennet cried. "Where is he?" She rushed out of the house. Her screams alerted Elizabeth and Jane, as well as most of the staff. Elizabeth and the others followed her down the path to the pond, where Mrs. Bennet screeched at the tearful nursemaid.

"Why weren't you watching him?" Mrs. Bennet spit at the girl.

"Ma'am, I was, I swear it! Miss Lydia, she—" the nursemaid stammered.

"Do not bring my daughter into this!" Mrs. Bennet bellowed.

Darcy had been trying to find his cousin Richard in the woodland, decided to go off for a walk on his own. Instead he found the chaos, and immediately began to help with the search. The Bennet family and staff who followed the commotion searched for the little boy for what seemed like hours, and all the while Mrs. Bennet screamed for her poor boy. Lord Radbourne had returned to the main house.

It was Darcy who found James—his small, cold body floating in the pond. He locked eyes with Elizabeth, who had been watching his search in the water from across the clearing and nodded to her in confirmation. Elizabeth set her shoulders and found her mother, who was still scolding the nursemaid.

"Mother," Elizabeth said carefully. "James was found… in the pond…on the other side."

Mrs. Bennet whirled, facing Elizabeth with bloodshot eyes. "No! Surely that is a mistake!"

It was not a mistake. As Mrs. Bennet panted her way to the other side, she saw his little body dragged out of the water by Darcy. He held the little boy to him, looking shocked.

"Get away from him!" Mrs. Bennet yelled, running to grab James out of Darcy's arms and into her own.

"Mrs. Bennet, it was too late," Darcy said woefully. Mrs. Bennet screams had brought nearly all of searchers to the pond, gathering around to watch her.

Mrs. Bennet ignored him, wailing, "My boy, my boy!" Her anguish for her son, the one who had brought her a better life and connections, was apparent.

The onlookers watched the horrible scene, hesitant to leave. Elizabeth wiped her tears and went over to the Dowager House's housekeeper, Mrs. Hill, who was among the search-party and instructed her on what to do further.

"We shall need someone to collect the body and another to make arrangements for a funeral service," Elizabeth said quietly.

"Yes, Miss Lizzy, right away," Mrs. Hill said, wiping her tears. They all adored the sweet little boy, despite his mother's behaviour.

Then Elizabeth went to her mother, who was hugging her other favourite child, Jane. Elizabeth also felt sadness for her own loss of James, though she was largely kept from him. She knelt down to place her hand on her mother's shoulder, which was immediately shrugged off. "James, my lovely James, your father has cursed us from the grave!" Mrs. Bennet cried.

"Mother, I am sure the late Mr. Darcy would do no such thing," Elizabeth said. Her mother's ravings were growing louder and more confusing by the minute.

"Not George Darcy! His real father, Thomas Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet sobbed.

The crowd drew a collective gasp. Elizabeth looked at Darcy with shocked eyes. He staggered forward, asking "Whatever do you mean, madam?"

"I mean that Mr. Bennet was the true father of James! I was desperate for a better place to live and a fortune—and you, you never appreciated your inheritance! Now Thomas haunts me, taking away my means of happiness," Mrs. Bennet revealed through angered sobs.

Darcy stepped back in dismay. Mrs. Bennet was lying about her affairs with Father. I should have listened to Elizabeth! Could that mean that she was lying about my parentage as well? Of course, Mrs. Bennet did. I am such a fool! Darcy thought to himself. Now was not the time for such rumination, however. He put on his best voice and declared "Please return back to the house, give the Bennets some peace." All of the staff from the Dowager House and even some staff from Pemberley, left to go back to their duties, murmuring to each other.

Richard stepped forward from the trees where he had been observing. Wickham also came forward, joining the crowd that watched Mrs. Bennet in her distress, waiting for someone to collect the body.

"Mother, shh!" Jane tried to stop her mother's rambling.

"Your father was a horrible husband, leaving us with barely any money to our name," Mrs. Bennet would not stop. "I needed to do something, and I despised the Darcys, especially George," Mrs. Bennet said, seething.

"The late Mr. Darcy was never anything but a gentleman," Elizabeth said with a sidelong glance at Darcy.

"He might have been a gentleman with me, but he corrupted your father! Influencing him with his cavalier thoughts about fortune. He made it seem as though he was but a farmer, instead he covered up these immense estate and wealth. It made sense to have a slice of his fortune for my own, especially with another mouth to feed," Mrs. Bennet said, eyes ablaze.

Darcy felt numb. He could scarcely hear Mrs. Bennet's voice admonishing her dead husband. He could not believe that Mrs. Bennet's allegation was nothing but a lie. It was especially shocking that the little boy he told himself to resent but couldn't stop finding him adorable was now dead, even though James lay just in front of him. It was all too much and he left the pond, just as servants came to take the boy away.

As he quickly walked back to the main house, Richard trailed behind him, whispering, "You are safe from scandals now."

Darcy was not sure about anything anymore. He needed to ask for forgiveness from his late Father and perhaps Elizabeth.

The next morning Darcy awoke to the sound of his own mother's rages. He dressed quickly and went down to the breakfast parlour, where he found her fuming, speaking with Lady Matlock about the revelations of Mrs. Bennet. Richard silently took his breakfast, all the while listening to Lady Anne's shouts.

"I knew that the social climber was perpetuating falsehoods! She truly would stop at nothing, save death, apparently!" Lady Anne said. When she noticed Darcy enter, she put on a motherly façade. "How dreadful is this, Fitzwilliam? All of those lies about the poor boy, God rest his soul."

"Mother," Darcy greeted the two ladies, "Aunt." Lady Matlock and her father Lord Radbourne came to visit Richard and Darcy a few days before. Lady Matlock did not get on well with Darcy's mother but would often come to stay when Richard came to visit. Lady Matlock had an absent-minded look on her face. Why were both ladies so cold? A little boy's life was cut short just yesterday.

"What will you do, Fitzwilliam?" Lady Matlock asked.

"Kick the Bennets off Pemberley. That is what I will do. They have no right to stay on our grounds," Lady Anne replied sternly.

"They have barely had time to bury James. Perhaps I might arrange a meeting of Mr. Kingsway first," Darcy offered.

"Fitzwilliam, how can you be so soft! That grasping woman has admitted to her attempts to usurp your fortune! You cannot allow them to remain in Pemberley," his mother insisted.

"But mother, I am not so certain that they have another home to go to," Darcy said, pausing. He had thought of Elizabeth throughout the entirety of the evening before. He was beginning to regret his animosity toward Elizabeth and did not want to cause her to be without a home. "I have had enough of the money-hungry Bennets myself, but I believe it would be proper to wait at least until they have secured another home."

His mother interrupted his words. "Why in heaven's name are we to be concerned with that?" she asked. "They have been draining us for years!"

Lady Matlock piped up, suggesting to Darcy, "That Mrs. Bennet must have submitted a forged will to Mr. Kingsway. She plotted to remove you from your father's will entirely, Fitzwilliam. You can have her hanged. Asking her to leave instead is already very lenient for her."

Lady Anne nodded, agreeing with her sister-in-law. "Indeed, Fitzwilliam! You ought to remember that. If we allow them to stay, it is entirely possible that the Bennet widow will concoct another plan to drain us of more money!"

Darcy was annoyed. He hated his mother's continued assumptions of control regarding the estate. He could understand her point; there was no telling what Mrs. Bennet would do next. However, he remained uncertain. "I am not so convinced, Mother. Let it be."

His mother was equally annoyed with her son. "Fitzwilliam! I will hear no more of this! The Bennets will be evicted. I will oblige them only enough time until after the boy has been buried. After which point, they and all of their belongings will be removed from the Dowager House," Lady Anne said without hesitation. She pulled the bell and asked for Mrs. Reynolds. "Please send word to the Bennets at once."

"No, Mother, you cannot do that…,"

Without waiting for Darcy to finish his sentence, Lady Anne dismissed Mrs. Reynolds. "Mother, this is my property. You cannot give an instruction like that," Darcy said.

"You forget that you are not yet in full control of Pemberley. Lord Metcalf may be your guardian, but do not forget that it is I who has kept this home running in his absence and yours whilst you have been away at University," Lady Anne said.

"Yet I have not asked you to," Fitzwilliam retorted. His mother had, in essence, refused to leave, despite all of his suggestions. Lady Matlock looked onto mother and son's argument with a faraway look. Richard continued his breakfast.

"Fitzwilliam, it is truly settled. It shall be for the best to send the Bennets out on their own. There is so much to look forward to, once they have left," Anne said with a wicked grin. "To be sure, those girls will no longer bother you on your walks."

Darcy thought about the times he had run into Elizabeth out in the woodland that separated the forest. Most of their brief meetings had been nothing but arguments, which he admitted was his own fault, but he was unsure that he wanted those meetings to cease entirely. He had lost the appetite for breakfast. He turned and left the room.

~P&P~P&P~P&P~

Elizabeth walked the woodland path for what could possibly be the final time, planning on laying a small posy of flowers at the spot where James was found. She received word yesterday that Lady Anne was evicting them after James's burial service which would be three days hence. She understood—the truth about her mother's claims had upset her, so she could only imagine how incensed Lady Anne must be. But where will we go? Elizabeth asked herself.

"Mad Elizabeth! I thought I might find you out here, traipsing about. Are you sad about leaving your ill-begotten home?" George Wickham said, chuckling to himself.

Elizabeth was startled at the appearance of the man. She could not stand him and hated the thought of being alone with him, especially after the fright he gave her last time. "I have no business speaking to you," she said firmly.

"Ah, you must be properly upset," Wickham said.

"I understand Lady Anne's decision," Elizabeth said coolly.

"Lady Anne? You must be mistaken. It's Darcy who wants you lot gone," Wickham said with a grin. Wickham had overheard the conversation that took place between Lady Anne and Darcy and knew the truth—but he could not resist upsetting Elizabeth Bennet once more. He still sought revenge on her from the harsh rebuke from Darcy and threat of removal she caused him. The look on her face now satisfied him immensely.

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked him.

Wickham could not stop his grin. "I mean to say that Lady Anne was not the one who wanted you all to depart Pemberley. She thought you all ought to stay, at least until your mother re-married. But it was Darcy who insisted you all leave at once. 'I have had enough of the money-hungry Bennets,' he said," Wickham informed, using Fitzwilliam's words against her.

Elizabeth's face was bright red. She expected this from Lady Anne, but not Fitzwilliam. He understood their predicament and yet wanted them gone at once, despite the fact that they had nowhere to go. He truly hates us, she thought.

"Come now, don't be so upset," Wickham said, goading her. "I'm sure mummy will find another man to exploit."

Elizabeth walked past him, too hurt to answer. Wickham did not follow her, but she heard his laughter as she walked away. At the pond, she laid the flowers down at the edge where James had been pulled out, sank onto her knees and wept. She wept for James, of course, but also for her father, whom she missed intensely during these moments. Elizabeth also wept for the relationship she once had with Fitzwilliam, her tears turning from sadness to anger. She stayed there for nearly half an hour.

"Elizabeth?" Darcy said, surprised to find her here. "Are you well?"

"You," she said, turning to him with narrowed eyes.

"Yes, me. Do you weep for James? I admit I myself feel—"

"Do not pretend that you care at all for me, or James!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Elizabeth, I must speak to you about that. I do care—"

Elizabeth interrupted him again, this time standing to face him. "You do not care about anyone but yourself! You understand our predicament and yet you want to send us off immediately, while James's body is barely in the ground!"

"I do not know what you speak of, Elizabeth, my mother—"

"Yes, your mother! I expected this from Lady Anne, but not you, Fitzwilliam! Where are we to go? How could you send us away so abruptly?"

Darcy was confounded. Why did she think this was his decision? "Elizabeth, you are mistaken. It was not my decision, but my mother's."

"Do not lie to me, Fitzwilliam. Did you not say you had enough of the money-hungry Bennets?" Elizabeth retorted.

Darcy was aghast that his words about Mrs. Bennet were recounted to Elizabeth. "Well, yes, but that is not precisely what I meant—"

"I know well what you meant, Master Darcy. I have put up with your bully for years and I hate you for it! Surely even the poorhouse would be more bearable than spending another moment close to you!" Elizabeth shouted at him.

"Elizabeth," Darcy said, his heart ached on seeing her distress. He wasn't sure how to get her to believe him. He wanted to say so much, but his words fell woefully short. "You hate me?" he asked simply.

"Yes! I hate you so much that I would scream it if I thought anyone could hear!" Elizabeth shouted.

"You misunderstand—I never meant—my mother—" Fitzwilliam stammered. He never truly understood the toll that the years of taunting her, a lifetime of neglect from her mother, and the death of her father took on Elizabeth, until now. Now she hated him. He wanted to apologise, but he could not find the words.

Elizabeth watched Darcy's face twist with despair at her words. She felt a sense of relief, now that all of her years of trying to get him to understand, to be her friend were coming to an end. And rightfully so—her life would be so much easier without Fitzwilliam Darcy in it.

"I rue the day that we met." And then she marched away from Darcy, without a backward glance.

The next day, Elizabeth lay in her bed, exhausted. There was a knock at the door. "Miss," a servant said on the other side. "There is a letter for you from Mr. Kingsway." Elizabeth leapt from her bed, taking the letter from the servant's hand with brief thanks. The promise of more information from Mr. Kingsway was enough to excite her from her bed after hours spent feeling woeful and melancholic. The lead with the servant at the closest carriage stop ended shortly after she knew about it. The man left his job and disappeared without a trace. Elizabeth hoped Mr. Kingsway had better news. Ripping it open, she was pleased to see Kingsway's fine penmanship.

Dear Miss Bennet,

I shall begin with my condolences to your family, regarding the passing of young James. I just received an express notifying me of the accident with Master James from Master Darcy. I have been making arrangement accordingly. It is a most terrible tragedy. I am currently nearby in Sheffield, and I shall make way to Derbyshire at once to assist your family with the logistics of relocation.

Additionally, it has been some time since we have spoken regarding the carriage accident. I have news—after slowly making rounds to question local farmers of the area, I found one who reported a man driving his carriage like a hellion away from the woodland where the accident took place. He recalled that his farm was perpendicular to the carriage road, and that the man was in a hurry. He even thought that the man had blood on him, Miss Bennet, I believe we now have some proof that this accident was indeed not such—it was likely a murder.

I shall continue to question to discover what else we might find about this man.

Your servant,

D. Kingsway

Elizabeth wiped tears away as she finished the letter. Finally, she thought, I knew that there was more to this accident. Elizabeth was so pleased to have proof of the accident and proof of her sanity, no matter how little it was. She was also heartbroken again at the thought of her loving father being killed.

"The culprit must be brought to justice," she said aloud to herself. Elizabeth wished that she had someone to tell. She did not want to tell any of her sisters—she could not trust Jane or her two youngest sister and did not want to burden Mary's mind further. She could not tell Fitzwilliam either, lest she be rebuked for "madness" again.

Fury at him renewed once more, Elizabeth got up, pacing in her room. His pained face from yesterday haunted her, but she drove it out of her mind.

"I hate you, Fitzwilliam Darcy."