If not for the timely and prodigious help of Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, it would have been nigh unto impossible to ensure that Mr. Darcy and his injury remained unknown to all but those entrusted with that information. They had struggled, on bringing Mr. Darcy back furtively to Netherfield, to not only assist the gentleman to his rooms with none the wiser but also to concoct a plausible excuse for his being indisposed. Mr. Hurst it was who invented the favored explanation and without whose clandestine help and arrangements the tall gentleman would never have attained his own bed.

Mrs. Bennet had, at one point, informed her daughter that Mr. Hurst's sympathies lay with the Watchmen and Elizabeth now was thankful for that knowledge as, without him, there would have been no end of trouble. Mr. Darcy could not have stayed at Longbourn, for not only would Mr. Bingley have wondered but, far worse, Mr. Collins was currently in residence there and would assuredly have been dangerously curious about the whys and wherefores of the injured fellow.

What they were to advertise to any who would ask was that Mrs. Hurst had been walking outside early and Mr. Darcy had been exercising his horse at the same time. On his return, he had been surprised by her sudden emergence from between two hedges; sadly, both parties were now worse for the experience and needed mending, which meant bedrest and confinement to their respective apartments.

As Mrs. Hurst was the sole female situated at Netherfield in light of her sister's elopement, it therefore came as no great surprise when a note arrived at Longbourn requesting the presence of as many of the ladies of the house as could be spared. Mrs. Bennet fluttered and fussed in her arranging for Jane and Elizabeth to visit Netherfield this day and made certain that her other daughters were ready to do their duty on ensuing days. She also ensured that they were carrying sufficient diversions for the invalid and gave permission for the sisters to remain at Netherfield until evening. Jane, she further proclaimed, might stay overnight if so wished.

Elizabeth could not but feel entirely responsible for Mr. Darcy's current infirmity and quizzed both her sisters and Mrs. Hurst frequently on their most current information of his circumstances. She was unable to be present at Netherfield as often as she might have otherwise liked - there was much to be done - and the weight of guilt hung heavy on her. A proper apology and any possible making of amends would have to wait until the gentleman was well enough to exit his apartment.

Never had Elizabeth been more grateful for Jane and Mary; they were quite knowledgeable and experienced in aiding those in need of healing. Around one and a half years past, Mrs. Bennet had deemed both of the sisters knowledgeable enough to participate in aiding the Watchmen, which necessitated the true tale of their cousin's demise to be explained. Poor Jane was woefully unable, for a time, to countenance so much evil existing in the world but she came to understand and, eventually, to accept. Mary was shocked and greatly saddened afresh by Rachel's loss - while moralizing to any who might listen. Both young ladies were grateful to their mother for entrusting them not only with the delicate particulars but also the knowledge, to be kept in confidence, of the Watchmen and the truth of that organization.

Both sisters advised the appropriate parties in the usage of this concoction and that poultice for the injured gentleman's leg, which had sustained a nasty laceration. It was none too deep but worrisome still, as it sat cross-ways upon the side and top of his upper leg and ran most of the length of his thigh; in addition, the wound had an unpleasant habit of opening and bleeding whenever said appendage was used. From the appearance of the edges of the wound, whomever had inflicted this upon Mr. Darcy had not sharpened their blade properly in some time, which was causing some delay in the closing of the cut.

.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Most of the Bennet family was seated at dinner, along with Mr. Collins, when that fellow started, 'My dear Mr. Bennet, I would have you know that I shall do my utmost to be an able manager for this cozy home once you are gone. It is certainly not that I am anxious for your demise but such things must be discussed and planned for in advance -'

Mrs. Bennet interrupted him then, with loud complaints on the unfairness of entails and predictions on how she and her daughters would be ill-used by Mr. Collins, unscrupulously thrown out of their own house.

Lydia and Kitty began to try and distract their mother, fearing yet another protracted conversation on this particular topic would cause an extended wait until the dessert course. This had the immediate result of Mrs. Bennet turning her attention upon her youngest daughters and she began examining them about all manner of things - had they seen thus-and-so's daughter, was there any interesting gossip to be known from Meryton or their Aunt Phillips, were they being careful with their spending money - and at that last subject, she turned her discourse back to the hated entail.

After another short while in this vein, Mr. Bennet requested his wife to kindly refrain from consigning his body to the graveyard until he was no longer breathing and to please speak on less morbid matters. Mr. Collins took the hint, as did that good lady, and their discussion touched upon far less fascinating subjects.

That evening, Mrs. Bennet wished a brief stroll in the garden to 'take some air' and asked Elizabeth to attend her. When the elder woman deemed them far enough from the house not to be heard, she informed her second eldest that it might be best if she were to remain safely within the bounds of Longbourn and that she would not be traveling anywhere for the foreseeable future

'I have had intelligence that there will be a rather sizable change and soon; whether they will be leaving or adding more to their numbers is not certain. Therefore, you must maintain a constant vigilance and do not discount any odd noise or strange occurrence you might encounter, even in or about our house, for I expect there to be some trouble.' Mrs. Bennet waved her hands about as she spoke, as if quite excited, for she was in the habit of doing thus. 'There have been several attempts on your father's life that could be seen as accidents during the duration of Mr. Collins' tenure in our home; it appears he would wish to take Longbourn rather sooner than later. If he and his compatriots are abandoning our neighborhood for greener, easier pastures, they will likely make one final endeavor at making this property theirs. Be prepared.'

This being the first that Elizabeth had heard of danger directed at Mr. Bennet, it was some minutes before she could find her voice. She was aware of some of her father's former activities and that he had deliberately and often placed himself in positions of peril in service to the Crown - prior to Longbourn, of course - but to hear of such things occurring in her home was entirely different. She found herself becoming exceedingly angry at those who would threaten her father, for she was well acquainted with human frailty in even the strongest and wiliest of people. To protect her family was now her sole purpose.

To find the murderer of his baby sister, he had dedicated all of his time and energy. It took three long years before he discovered, at long last, some small hint of the beast's whereabouts. Without much forethought, he hurried to follow the trail before it disappeared. He found the monster, the surrounding folk believing him to be betrothed to the daughter of the house, situated in comfort on a small estate but twenty short miles from his own. The black rage that had propelled him thus far, bade him attack the ruthless brute without any thought for his own safety or future. Ah, if only he had paid more mind to his fisticuffs practice . . . .

He had fought with all the passion of a heart-broken brother bent on revenge but that had not been enough. To battle this devil, it would require great strength, along with the necessary skill, a familiarity with combat that was lacking outside of His Majesty's military. Without that fortuitous, surprising cry of a nearby - but unseen - person, there is every likelihood that his ill-considered journey would have come to a most morbid end, as evidenced by the growled words thrown after him, as he escaped.

'Next time, I will kill you.'

Several nights later, Elizabeth returned from her now-routine examination of the immediate property and was beginning to circle the exterior of the building in which her family should have felt safe to sleep without fear of attack. As she approached one corner, there was a quiet grunt, as if someone had discovered the painful solidity of stone. She slowed her steps and crept with all caution toward the source of the disturbance, grateful for clouds covering the quarter moon. Tension mounted inside of her - this was what her mother had been speaking of.

There. Below her parents' window, was a ladder and the silhouette of a large man ascending its rungs. She glanced upward, thinking of her father above in his rooms, unaware of the danger approaching, and reminded herself that anger was her most powerful ally. It was her responsibility to safeguard her loved ones and her home.

She could see no sentry and hoped that she was correct, for he was almost high enough now to grasp the windowsill; now was the time to act. Focusing all of her attention on the climbing man, she rapidly made her way up the ladder and slashed at the tendon of his ankle with her short, curved blade. Jumping backward, her weapon at the ready, she waited

The man looked down and threw himself off of the ladder toward her. She ran backward several steps in preparation but when he made contact with the ground, he immediately collapsed face-forward, growling in pain and unable to use the injured limb. She leapt at him, punching and stabbing, furious with fear for her loved ones, not allowing him an inch, despite his increasingly desperate attempts to stop her.

In short order, she stepped back, panting, and scrutinized the still fellow for any further peril. Certain that he did not stir, and believing that he had breathed his last, she turned her attention to her parents and was about to ascend the ladder to check their room for more intruders, when there came from above a stifled cry, followed by a body flying out of the open window, to smash into the cold ground with great force. Frightened, she rushed over to the person - was this her father?

To her profound - and slightly tearful - relief, it was not Mr. Bennet but was, instead, some man she knew not. Like his comrade, his eyes were shut and the only movement was that of his breathing. But she had to be assured of this.

As she leaned over his body, he suddenly reached up and grabbed her neck with a powerful, strangling grip. There was no other choice but for her to use all of her strength and drive her dagger under his ribs, into his heart. His body spasmed and then his hands fell limply to the ground.

Elizabeth backed away, horrified. Not by the sight of death, for in time a person can become accustomed to well-nigh anything, but by her failure. Again. Firstly, Darcy was injured while under her guardianship and now these men had infiltrated the confines of her home.

Perhaps she required further drilling. Her concentration in recent weeks was not what it had been and any lack, the most miniscule loss of attention could - and often did - spell misery. Charlotte would be willing to assist her in this.

Or perhaps she should no longer be a Watcher, as she seemed lately to be more hindrance than help.

A whispered, 'Elizabeth!' came directly prior to a gentle arm circling her shoulders and pulling her into a comforting embrace. 'Mama,' was all she could say before the dreaded tears ensued.