Hello everyone! Thank you for all your feedback, especially on our last chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much! Enjoy the rest of your summer.

Chapter Eighteen

She was in love. She might even be engaged, for a lady who accepted a gentleman's kiss might as well accept the man himself. But there was no telling her family, of course, until Darcy made it official.

Elizabeth went into the house behind Jane and tried to behave naturally, as though nothing momentous had occurred, but she suspected that she was not entirely successful. Most of the play had already disappeared from her mind, except the part she was least willing to share, so when Jane and her aunt asked her opinions she scarcely knew what answers she gave. When Mrs. Gardiner mentioned Florindo's passionate soliloquy in the second act, she blushed and had to look away, earning an amused look from the other two ladies.

The world had changed. She understood at a stroke how Jane could be eager to spend the rest of her life with a man she had only met weeks ago. When she finally went to bed, despite her exhaustion she lay awake for some time, reliving the evening in her mind and dreaming of a hopeful, happy future. She fell asleep with the sound of Darcy's deep voice in her ear, whispering, "Elizabeth . . . Elizabeth."

A sharp knocking at the front door the next morning stirred her from her sleep.

When Elizabeth first heard the sound she was only just beginning to rouse, and the rapping startled her fully awake. The sun's rays were shining strongly around the curtains meant to block them out, and Jane's place next to her was cold. She could hear the creaking of wagons passing on the street and the shouts of hawkers calling out their wares. Footsteps echoed off the cobblestones. Paris was coming to life the way it did every morning, but the loud banging on the door rose above it all.

She lay still, wondering who it might be. It was too early for callers. Not even Darcy or Bingley would arrive so early, unless there were some kind of momentous event.

Darcy. She smiled as her mind went back to the evening before. Darcy had said he would see her as soon as he could, and she expected it to be a momentous day indeed. She rang the bell and waited eagerly, impatiently, to begin to prepare for her day. Jeanette, who had replaced Hortense, came in several minutes later with the usual supply of fresh towels and a pitcher of water. "Good morning, mademoiselle."

Elizabeth accepted a moist towel and began wiping her face and hands. "Good morning, Jeanette. What time is it?"

"Half ten, madam."

It was even later than she had guessed. "So late! I don't know how I managed to sleep for so long."

"Madam Gardiner said to let you rest, mademoiselle. She said you were very tired after your outing last night."

"Not too tired to hear the disturbance at the door just now. Do you know who it was?"

"It was a message for Monsieur Gardiner, mademoiselle. He read it and then he called for madam. They have been in the study ever since."

"How mysterious! Did you recognize the messenger?"

"A Frenchman, by his looks. Perhaps it was something to do with your uncle's business."

"Perhaps." But that explanation was not likely to account for her aunt's involvement. She set the towel aside. The rest of her morning routine could wait. "Please help me with my dress now, and I shall go downstairs directly and find out."

When she arrived on the first floor the door to the study was still shut tight. Jules was nowhere to be seen, but Jane was sitting in the breakfast room, with a plate of fruit in front of her. Elizabeth noticed that the plate was untouched. Jane sat silently, with wide eyes. "Lizzie!" she exclaimed when she saw her sister.

"Jane! What is happening? Is somebody ill? Has there been another riot?"

Jane shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but she was cut off by the appearance of her aunt, who came hastily into the room, with her husband following behind. "My dears, we have had a message from the Lucases. Prepare yourselves; we are going to them at once." At their questioning looks she paused to take a breath before giving them the bad news. "Charlotte needs you. Monsieur Corbin, her fiance, has been arrested and taken away. God bless the poor man! I do not think this will end well for him!"

The Gardiners were in a carriage on their way across town before they could entirely comprehend what had happened. Bingley and Darcy were set aside; even the events of the previous evening disappeared under this momentous event. The only thing that mattered was being with Charlotte. "Do we know exactly what happened?" Elizabeth asked her uncle. "When did they arrest Monsieur Corbin, and where did they take him?"

"The message was very brief," her uncle answered. "They entered his house last night, while we were at the theatre, and took him to Le Forge straightaway."

"On what charge?"

"Sir William did not say."

"What possible charges could anyone bring against Monsieur Corbin?" Jane cried. "What could justify removing him from his home and putting him into prison- or worse?"

"The arrest warrant will give some kind of excuse, but it hardly matters. What matters is not the accusation, but who speaks against him."

"I should think the truth would matter more than anything else," Elizabeth said, but her uncle shook his head.

"The motive for these accusations is quite often money, or the desire for it. If Corbin's accuser is willing to accept a bribe in exchange for saying there was a mistake of some kind, then he might have a chance. But if the motive is revenge for some kind of insult or slight, his prospects are very dim."

"Can't Sir William help him? He is well connected, and has friends throughout the government."

"The English government, you mean. Sir William is in this country on behalf of the king, and kings are not very popular in France these days."

"Who could wish ill against Monsieur Corbin? I only met him once, but it is difficult to imagine him offending anyone. His accuser must be after his property." Elizabeth frowned as she recalled Wickham's questions to Charlotte on the night of the assembly. "Uncle, is it possible that Wickham is his accuser?"

"If Wickham has denounced Corbin," her uncle replied heavily, "then Corbin will have no chance of escape. No chance at all."

At the Lucas household all was in confusion. Servants fluttered everywhere, carrying possets and smelling salts to anyone who needed them. Lady Lucas could be heard loudly weeping upstairs, and Mrs. Gardiner went in that direction at once. Mr. Gardiner and a grim-faced Sir William disappeared into the library. That left Jane and Elizabeth to search out Charlotte on their own. At length they discovered her sitting desolately in the parlor, paler than usual, but smiling bravely when she saw them. She rose and accepted their embraces tearfully. "How good of you to come. I was afraid our friends would avoid us under the circumstances."

Both sisters assured her that such a thought had not crossed their mind. "But what has happened with Monsieur Corbin?" Elizabeth asked. "Has anyone been able to contact him?"

"The last time I heard from Albert was when he sent a message yesterday morning, asking us to dinner, My father had a meeting with his solicitor so we could not accept." Despite her best efforts, Charlotte's bottom lip quivered. "I wish that I had gone by myself!"

"You feel that way now, but you know you could not have done so. You have done nothing wrong." Jane tried to offer comfort.

At that Charlotte nearly broke down. "I can't help feeling that this is our fault somehow! If we had been with him last night, perhaps they would not have taken him!"

Charlotte was more distraught than she first appeared, Elizabeth thought, and not entirely rational. "You had no way of knowing what would happen. Do you know when Monesieur Corbin will be tried? What are the charges against him?"

"Do you not know? Has no one told you?"

Elizabeth exchanged a quick glance with her sister. "Told us what?"

"Monsieur Corbin is not just monsieur. He is the Count de Aubrac." She saw their looks of amazement. "He inherited the title after his cousin passed away three months ago. Until then he was just a poor relation. Nobody thought he would inherit anything, as his cousin was expected to marry and secure the line. But when his cousin was killed, his family told Albert that he must marry again and do what his cousin could not."

Elizabeth's astonishment knew no bounds. Charlotte was to be a countess! How extraordinary, and yet how perfectly fitting! But how much more tragic under these circumstances. "Did you know about his title when you agreed to marry him?"

"Oh yes! Albert told me I should know everything about him so that I could make a rational decision. He wanted me to understand all that I would be taking on."

"My dear Charlotte! And then you must have agreed to keep his title a secret."

"He had affairs to settle before we could wed. His plan was for us to marry here, and then we would go to London, where he could openly assume his title from a safe distance. Miserable mistake! We should have left Paris long ago! Now they are using the concealment of his inheritance as a pretext for treason."

Poor Charlotte! She was grieving for Corbin already, for if what she said was true, he was almost certainly lost. But she also grieved for herself. She had gone from being an object of pity, to the hope of her family, to a source of bitter disappointment. And if Elizabeth was not mistaken, she and the count had been on their way to a happy union. What should have been her happy ending had been cruelly destroyed. There would likely never be another such opportunity for her.

There was nothing anyone could say. Jane and Elizabeth embraced their friend and tried to convince her that all was not lost, but Charlotte scarcely heard them. Their words rang hollow, for everyone knew the likely outcome of this story.

When Mr. Gardiner and Sir William finally emerged Elizabeth thought that she had never seen Sir William look so ill. He had aged what seemed like years in a short time. And when Lady Lucas eventually came downstairs she could barely say a word. She tried to console her daughter but broke down in tears and had to retreat once more.

After several hours the Gardiner party left the Lucases. Charlotte said she was exhausted and wanted to rest, but Elizabeth suspected she simply wanted solitude to allow her emotions free rein. There was nothing more that the Gardiners or their nieces could do in any case, and so they sadly returned home, feeling that their visit had accomplished nothing. Monsieur Corbin's fate was out of their hands. All they could do was assure the family of their support and to express their hopes that the very worst would not come to pass.

At the Gardiner home Jules met them at the door. He flung his arms around Mrs. Gardiner's waist without waiting on ceremony. "You are back! You came back!" he exclaimed.

Mrs. Gardiner knelt down and took Jules into her arms, patting his back soothingly. "My dear child! Did you think we had left you forever?"

"My mama did!" Jules responded, clinging more tightly than ever. "I thought you went away too!"

"We will not leave you that way," Mrs. Gardiner assured him. "You have nothing to fear."

Mr. Gardiner said nothing, but he came alongside his wife and laid his own hand on the child's shoulder. When Jules released Mrs. Gardiner to throw his arms around Gardiner's legs, Gardiner knelt down and scooped the child up in his arms. His wife put her arms around them both and they stood together, all three, in a touching tableau, with Jules' head against Gardiner's shoulder and Mrs. Gardiner's head resting on the child's back. The look on the faces of all three spoke more eloquently than words ever could.

It was such an intimate moment that Elizabeth stepped back, feeling as if she were intruding on sacred ground. As she did so one of the footmen approached her. "If you please, mademoiselle, this arrived for you some time ago." He held out an envelope with her name written in a distinctly masculine hand.

In the drama of the day Elizabeth had temporarily forgotten about Darcy but there was only one likely sender of such a message. Her heart gave a great leap, and she sat down on a chair to read the short missive.

My dearest Elizabeth,

I hoped to call on you as early as possible today and then, perhaps, spend the rest of the day in your sweet presence, but it is not to be. An urgent matter arose which may not be put off for any length of time, and it may be several days before I can return to Paris.

Nothing but the most compelling circumstances in the world would be enough to take me from your side at this time. Until I return, the memory of your sweetness, your liveliness and your beauty will haunt me in every waking moment. May I dare to hope that you will welcome me back as warmly as when we made our adieux? I dare not say more; you know my deepest hope and desire.

Wait for me, my love. I shall return, for I am

Always your devoted servant

Fitzwilliam Darcy

The plot thickens, and the angst will only grow from here. See you in three weeks! -Elaine