It only took a little convincing to prompt Bingley to leave the party. As he went to inform his sisters, Bingley politely made his excuses to Lady Lucas. After sending a servant for the carriage, Darcy found Hurst, insisted he quickly finish the glass of punch in his hand and then pulled the inebriated man towards the main door. Bingley and the others joined them before they made it to the entry.

The Bennet women had just finished putting on their wraps and were starting to leave. When Mrs. Bennet saw him, she reacted like a fox that just heard the hounds baying for its blood. Without a word, she pushed her daughters out the door, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth following closely behind. He offered Miss Elizabeth a polite nod and smile as she turned and caught his eye. Her answering smile made his heart leap in his chest.

The moment was spoiled by Miss Bingley, who barely waited until the door closed behind Miss Elizabeth to whine, "What does that brazen hussy have to smile about after such a ridiculous display by her family? Was she actually flirting with you, Mr. Darcy?"

"Not at all. She was responding politely to my silent gesture of farewell. And your name-calling is both unseemly and inaccurate. Miss Elizabeth is perfectly well-mannered and has done nothing to ashamed of."

Miss Bingley sniffed derisively. "Perhaps she has not, but with such a family how can she even imagine herself good enough to be in company with respectable people?"

Darcy looked at her with disapproval although he kept his voice low as he said, "So, by your logic, I should avoid all contact with your brother because he is unfortunate enough to have a sister who makes catty comments and unfounded judgments against others? And because she thinks herself above the company of perfectly respectable people who happen to be her social superiors and behaves rudely towards them? Or perhaps, I should simply cut to the chase and avoid all contact with you, like so many others have done after being subjected to your hateful gossip and unpleasant manner."

Miss Bingley looked at him shock, but her brother chuckled. "He has you there, Caroline," he said. "Perhaps you should just stop talking now, before he makes a break with all of us. You will find it very hard to attend events in the Ton if he does."

Darcy had to hide a smile when her mouth dropped open and she gaped at her brother's comment. The implications of what they had both said were starting to sink in. Fortunately, the servant arrived with their outer garments before she could come up with a cutting, or any other, response. By the time they entered the carriage, she had obviously seen the wisdom of silence. The ride back to Netherfield was the quietest and most pleasant one Darcy had ever had while riding with Miss Bingley.

Over the next few days, Darcy rode out for a few hours each day, viewing the grounds with his friend. As they went, he gave Bingley instruction and an idea of the various tasks and matters for which he would be responsible as an estate owner. As part of this trial lease, Darcy wanted Bingley to understand that estate ownership was not all taking in rents and enjoying parties or sport like shooting. There were people to care for and work to do, at least if you wanted the estate to be profitable.

A few of the local men called on Bingley and Darcy during that time. It seemed word had spread of the set-down Darcy had given Sir William. The visitors shed a little more light on the situation at Longbourn, but Darcy found all of them were very prejudiced against Mrs. Bennet, although none could really say when the feelings against her had begun or point to any behavior beyond her dislike of her stepdaughters. Some tried to convince Darcy his assessment of Sir William was incorrect because he was only trying to help give Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth the recognition that was their due. When Darcy asked those men how forcing the young women into situations they did not want and in which they were very uncomfortable, while doing everything in his power to induce their stepmother to resent them, did anything to improve the two women's lives, they had no answer for him. In fact, most went away looking very thoughtful. It seemed Sir William was so popular that no one had questioned his methods or motives before. They simply believed him and copied whatever he did.

At church on Sunday, Sir William approached to greet the Netherfield party with all the appearance of affability. Darcy was having none of it and gave him the cut direct, while Bingley was just barely civil. It would cause more gossip, Darcy knew, but he stood by his assertion that Sir William was the worst kind of bully, and he would not pretend to politeness with a bully even if Bingley had to as a resident.

Darcy made even more waves when he silently greeted Mrs. Bennet and her daughters with a polite bow. It was clear to him that all the women, except Miss Lydia, were subdued and seemed fearful of the reception they would receive from their neighbors. Even Miss Lydia was quiet, although she seemed to be sulking rather than concerned.

Most people remained distant towards the women while offering simple polite greetings to Mrs. Bennet and the others, much as Darcy had done. A few followed Sir William, who tried to greet Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth while ignoring the rest of their family. To their credit, the young women responded with no more than a polite curtsy to those individuals while remaining close to their sisters. Their response to Sir William was so brief as to nearly constitute a cut. That gave some of the people who were beginning to doubt Sir William even more to think about.

After the service, Darcy even overheard one local matron offer an invitation to Mrs. Bennet to attend a party on the following Wednesday. He knew Bingley had already accepted an invitation to the same party. He was glad to hear Mrs. Bennet accept and impressed that she made certain her hostess knew Miss Lydia would not be part of their group. The relief on the other woman's face at receiving that information was almost comical. The relief on Mrs. Bennet's face as she turned away from the other woman was almost heartbreaking. Darcy still did not like her or approve of her attitude to her stepdaughters, but he suspected she did not deserve all the nastiness she had endured because of Sir William. He could see that others were starting to think in the same way.

Before they left the church, Darcy, Bingley and Hurst received an invitation to dine with the officers the following evening. Bingley accepted on behalf of all three, hoping for a good meal and some congenial company. When she found out Monday morning, Miss Bingley complained about being left with only her sister for company. Darcy thought she might be making one last play for his company, or his sympathy. He did not respond but Bingley told her that if she was feeling lonely, she might invite one of the local women over to build an acquaintance. She pouted, proclaiming her brother to be a heartless man. Bingley just laughed at her, which Darcy thought was an appropriate response.

The food offered by the militia was acceptable, although not of great quality. There was quantity enough for Hurst, who was not overly fastidious about his food or alcohol, while the other two each found a few dishes they liked well enough they would not return home hungry. It was a reasonable dinner.

The men were a mixed bag, generally gentlemen or gentleman's sons. They came from a variety of backgrounds, with most being second or third or fourth sons of minor landowners. A few were the first born or only children of men who were themselves second or third sons. Many considered their time in the militia to be a bit of a lark. They were able to reap the benefits of wearing the uniform while knowing they would not be sent to the Continent where the real fighting was.

Colonel Forster was an older man who had recently married a very young and silly wife who was probably no more than seventeen years of age. Darcy found the man far too ready to gloat over the dowry that he had received and the joys of having a young and energetic girl to warm his bed. The man's attitude as well as his tendency to give far too many private details was distasteful at best to Darcy's way of thinking. He removed himself from that conversation as soon as he could.

A few of the junior officers were better company for him. One of the lieutenants had attended both Eton and Cambridge just two years behind Darcy. They fell into an easy conversation about a class that had turned out to be a favorite for both of them. Two of the other men joined in and made some well-considered comments that carried the topic along.

On his side of the room, Bingley was the subject of a number of questions that centered around his sister. During a lull in his own conversation, Darcy heard one of the officers, Lieutenant Denny, ask about her dowry more than once. Bingley was wary of giving up any information, but when the lieutenant pressed him again, he apparently realized he needed to make some kind of reply to end the topic.

"Why do you want to know? Are you planning to court her?" Bingley asked the lieutenant with a laugh. "Unless you are hiding a title somewhere, I believe you are not her type."

The other men laughed as well and one loudly said, "Did you not know? He is Viscount Penniless."

Another one tried to top that. "Do you not mean, Sir Always in Debt?"

Darcy thought Lieutenant Denny looked ready to kill both men, but he did finally drop his line of questioning. The remainder of the conversation for that evening was more innocuous for both Bingley and Darcy. While Bingley seemed to enjoy the lively company, Darcy was glad when they were finally able to excuse themselves and return to Netherfield.

On Tuesday afternoon, Darcy decided to take a ride on his own over to Longbourn, which was the neighboring estate. Mr. Bennet had not come to church for either of the last two weeks. According to what the local men said when they visited, Mr. Bennet was supposed to be ill, but not entirely bedridden and might welcome a visit. In addition, Darcy thought he could try to understand what might motivate the man to allow his current wife to treat the children of his first wife so poorly.

He took the long way on his ride, not feeling he should cut across another man's fields without at least meeting the owner first. The house appeared to be comfortably sized for the family. It was reasonably well-kept although a little shabby on close inspection. There seemed to be nothing substantially wrong, it had just not been maintained to the standard that Darcy followed with his own properties.

Leaving his horse in the care of a groom in the stable, he presented himself at the front door. When he told the maid who answered that he had come to visit with Mr. Bennet, she looked at him curiously. He offered his card, which she took after telling him he was welcome to wait in the entry. Darcy stepped in, allowing the front door to close behind him as the maid headed off down the hall.

From somewhere in the house he could hear the sounds of a pianoforte being played. Miss Mary, he suspected from the style. It was clear she put in much practice. If she had the advantage of a proper music master to correct her technique, she might even become skilled at the instrument.

It was not long before the maid returned. She offered Darcy a curtsy and then announced the Mr. Bennet was resting and preferred not to accept any visits at the time. He had known all along that was a possible response to his unplanned visit. Darcy accepted his dismissal graciously. He thanked the maid and left without complaint.

"Are you heading back to Netherfield right away, sir?" the groom asked him as he retrieved his horse.

He was not sure why the man was questioning him, but saw no harm in answering. "That is my plan."

"There is a storm rolling in, sir. It will probably catch you if you take the long way down both drives with the road in between. May I suggest you cut across on the more direct route?"

"I had heard there was a path that crossed both estates, but did not feel I had permission to use the portion of it belonging to Longbourn. Will Mr. Bennet mind if I cut across his land?"

The groom laughed. "The master will have no argument with you riding on his land so long as you are not inclined towards poaching. Not that he has done much shooting in recent years, but he does prefer to invite those who do. Just let me set you on your way, sir. Taking this route, you should make it back before the leading edge of rain hits us."

The man showed Darcy a path that he said wound around a stand of woods not far off before running along a hedge towards the border between the two estates. Thanking him for the information, Darcy mounted his horse and headed off.

He took the path at a comfortable pace. It looked well worn, although he could not think why someone would go this way often. The groom had assured him he would not pass by any of the tenant homes, just the outer edges of the fields. He rounded the woods, noticing the odd change between the side composed mostly of deciduous trees - mostly walnut, with some hazel and some some scrub mixed in - now clothed in red and gold, and the stand of spruce trees on the other side. As the path curved beyond the spruce trees, he noticed it was less distinct than before. Struck by that, he stopped his horse and looked back. To his surprise, he saw a woman he recognized as Miss Elizabeth leaving the woods at a point that was far enough around the curve that he would have missed her had he been just a few feet further along.

She quickly disappeared from his sight, taking the path as it curved away in the direction of Longbourn. Darcy let his horse crop at some grass along the edge of the path while his curiosity over what she had been doing in the woods warred with his sense that her privacy should be respected.

Curiosity finally won. Marking the point where she had emerged in his mind, he prompted his horse into a walk until he reached the spot. If one looked closely enough for it, there was evidence of a trail into the spruce trees there. He dismounted and tied his horse's reins to a branch. Carefully following the dim trail, he went to see what he could find out.

The trail petered out near a huge old spruce surrounded by several others. He walked around it, wondering why she would stop there. Examining the trunk carefully to see if perhaps she had somehow climbed it, ridiculous as that sounded, he came across the cleverly hidden panel. Running his fingers around the edges of it, he found both the hinges and the latch. He flicked the latch and was able to pull the panel open to reveal the carefully wound cord.

Darcy could not resist. He released the cord turn by turn until the rope and stave ladder was completely revealed. Going carefully, he made his way up into the branches. Following the spiral tunnel, he found the tiny hut fastened between the boughs and the trunk. He opened the door to reveal the bench that nearly filled the cramped little structure.

At first, he was confused. Why would there be a bench and a row of small windows in this tiny tree house? It might be a nice place to read, especially for a child, but he did not think Miss Elizabeth had been carrying anything as large as a book when he saw her leave. Then, he realized the bench might also serve as storage.

He reached inside, crouching on his knees in the confined space of the doorway, lifted the seat and saw the metal box. When he lifted the box lid, he discovered the lacework in progress. Now, he was truly confused. Why would she come all this way to sit in a tree and work on lace? This was the sort of thing one would normally do in the house, preferably in a place with very good lighting.

Lifting the metal box out of its compartment, he closed the bench and then lifted it to sit there so he could examine the work more closely without disturbing any of it. As he gently ran a finger over the strip of completed lace where it came off the pillow to be wound on the reel, he had a sudden flash of memory.

He had been seven or eight years old, Darcy could not remember exactly which. His mother had a gown that she and her maid had been decorating with strips of lace. The women had left the gown and lace on a table while they both went off to get something or other. Darcy had wondered why they were making such a fuss over the trim and went to examine it. He picked up a length of the lace and was pulling at it trying to see how it was made when his mother returned and took it from his hands.

"Gently, Fitzwilliam," she said. "This is not meant for such violent tugging."

"Why not?" he had asked. "What is so special about it?"

She sat down and spread the strip out across her skirt, flattening and gently rearranging the section he had pulled out of shape. "Lace is something that takes time and skill to make. This strip of lace has a particular pattern to it that is local to this neighborhood. Not only is it beautiful but by purchasing and wearing it, I help some of the less fortunate of our neighbors who must do this work to keep themselves from poverty. Do you see how the arrangement of knots, twists and holes forms a pattern?" She had pointed out what she meant.

Darcy had run his finger gently behind hers, taking note of the features she showed him. She explained, "Every region has its own patterns and if you know them, you can identify the origin of the lace. This pattern from our neighborhood is particularly fine and I enjoy wearing it."

Now, as he examined the pattern in front of him, Darcy realized it was the same as the one caught in his memory. Not just similar – the same. He might not normally pay much attention to lace, but he treasured each memory he had of his mother and this one was clear. He was looking at a Derbyshire lace pattern, and one that originated from the area right around his home. How could that be?

Seeing no answers around him and knowing a storm was on the way, he carefully closed the metal box, replaced it in the bench which he closed. He retreated from the hut, latching the door securely behind him. Once he made his way down to the ground, Darcy pulled up the ladder as he re-wrapped the cord and then latched the panel in place to hide the twist of cord as it had been when he found it.

A few minutes later, he was back on his horse and headed to Netherfield. He made it there just minutes before the storm broke. It was several hours later before he gave up puzzling over his discoveries in the tree for lack of any new information or insights. Solving the mystery would clearly take time or a good long discussion with Miss Elizabeth.