Good morning! I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's certainly a critical one! Please let me know what you think of it, and have a fantastic weekend!

The riot, of course, was the talk of the Gardiner household. After seeing that Elizabeth and Jules were properly cared for, examined for injuries, and made to sit and rest, the family insisted on hearing every particular of their ordeal. No detail was too trivial. Nobody could believe what had happened, and nobody could praise Darcy too highly or speak warmly enough of him. In the conversation that followed, Elizabeth soon learned the answer to one of her questions, namely, how had Darcy known where she was?

"Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley came to call shortly after you left," Mrs. Gardiner told her. "They had been here less than ten minutes when a messenger arrived to tell your uncle that one of his warehouses was in danger. That was the first we heard about the disturbance. Such a panic it caused! The house was in an uproar! Your uncle wanted to go after you at once, knowing you were walking in that general direction, but Darcy would not hear of it. He insisted on taking that responsibility for himself, rather than allowing your uncle to place himself in danger.'

"So that is how he knew where I would be! But what of Mr. Bingley? Where is he?"

Gardiner spoke. "He went to the warehouse to try to protect it from the mob."

How very odd, Elizabeth thought. She would have thought Bingley would remain inside, preferring to stay out of harm's way. Gardiner saw the look on her face. "The warehouse contained some valuable items pertaining to our shared business interests. There was no other reason for such recklessness."

"Reckless indeed! Material goods can be replaced; human life is a much more valuable commodity."

"His mind was quite made up. He would have it all his own way." So much for Bingley blindly following Darcy's commands, Elizabeth thought.

"Do you think he is safe, uncle?" Jane asked anxiously. "Was the warehouse attacked?"

"We do not know yet, and we will not know until we receive a message. We will have to wait until then." Gardiner saw the look on Jane's face and added, in compassionate tones, "But I have every confidence in both of those men, Jane. Rest assured Bingley can handle himself in the middle of a disturbance just as well as Darcy can. You will see for yourself that I am right."

Though they spent an anxious night their uncle's prediction came true. Early the next morning Gardiner received a message from his overseer informing him that his warehouse was safe. Bingley had arrived at the building just ahead of the rioters and directed its defenses, though the message did not state exactly how. The buildings around it had been damaged, but Gardiner's warehouse had scarcely been touched. Considering what might have been lost, the Gardiners counted themselves very fortunate indeed..

According to rumors coming in through the servants, soldiers had succeeded in quieting the streets and life was now returning to normal in the parts of Paris that had been most affected. Mr. Gardiner wanted to go out to see for himself, but Mrs. Gardiner would not hear of it. She would much rather he stay in, and for his wife's sake, Gardiner agreed.

Later in the morning the family was sitting in the parlor when a knock came on the door. Their uncle waved a servant away and went to open it himself. After a moment there came familiar sounds: Bingley's eager, earnest voice and Darcy's lower, more serious tones. Mr. Gardiner led them into the study and shut the door.

"They must be giving your uncle a report on his business holdings," Mrs. Gardiner said, putting down the purse she was netting. "I should send in some refreshments to them." She left the room.

Elizabeth barely heard her aunt. Her mind was fixed on the gentleman in the study, and on one gentleman in particular. Why had Darcy come back to the Gardiner's home? Surely it had nothing to do with her; he must have wanted to share information with her uncle himself. And yet Bingley alone could have given her uncle whatever information he wanted.

It was nearly half an hour later when they heard the door of the study open. Jane and Elizabeth waited anxiously. Would the gentlemen come into the parlor, or would they make an excuse and leave?

Their questions were soon answered. Darcy and Bingley entered the room together.

Elizabeth performed her part in the greetings mechanically, willing herself to be as calm as possible. Darcy looked untouched by the drama the day before, his appearance restored to its usual state. He greeted Mrs. Gardiner and Jane and nodded at Elizabeth soberly, but he had nothing in particular to say. When they all sat down he took a seat on the other side of the room, as far from her as he could be. Then he remained nearly silent. The conversation was carried on principally between Mrs. Gardiner and Bingley.

Mrs. Gardiner started by thanking both gentlemen for what they had done for the Gardiner family the day before. Her appreciation was heartfelt and though both Darcy and Bingley insisted they had done no more than their duty, it was obvious that they were touched by her sincerity, especially by the tears of gratitude that stood in her eyes as she spoke. Jane and Elizabeth concurred more quietly but with just as much sincerity.

From there Mrs. Gardiner and Bingley spoke at length about the events of the day before, which Bingley had more information about than what the ladies had heard. Lives had been lost, and some businesses were damaged beyond repair. Bingley was afraid that the unrest would continue for the foreseeable future, and that it might even become worse before the revolution finally ran its course. He gave no opinion about the wisdom of the revolution itself but expressed sympathy for the poorest of the poor, those who had been most affected by the violence yesterday and would likely be affected again.

After several minutes of this, Mrs. Gardiner was called from the room by a servant. That left the two couples by themselves, and an uncomfortable pause ensued. Bingley took the opportunity to move to a seat next to Jane and the two were soon speaking together easily.

Elizabeth felt all the awkwardness of the situation and thought that Mr. Darcy must as well. She wondered why he had bothered coming to the Gardiner house at all. Surely any information he wanted to pass on to Gardiner could have been relayed by Bingley. She kept her head down and focused on her sewing with unusual diligence.

At last she heard Darcy's voice address her directly. "Miss Elizabeth, are you quite recovered from yesterday's events?"

She nearly dropped her needle in surprise and answered him with some confusion. "I am entirely recovered, thank you. I trust you are none the worse for your experiences either."

He answered in the same style and another silence fell. Elizabeth resumed her sewing. Then Darcy said, "Your uncle mentioned that you were on an errand for your aunt when the disturbance began."

"That is true. I was on my way to buy flowers for the dinner table. We have a garden here but it does not support the sort of blooms she prefers."

"May I see the garden? That is, would you show it to me?'

Confused by his request, Elizabeth looked at Jane, but there was no assistance there. Deep in conversation, she and Bingley barely even glanced at the other couple. Then it struck her: perhaps Darcy was doing his friend a favor, trying to give him time alone with Jane.

"You wish to see the garden?"

"If it is not too much trouble."

She saw no reason to object, so she led the way through the house and out to the little courtyard behind. The smallish area of grass and plants was enclosed on every side by the brick walls of the buildings around it. Only the windows of the Gardiner house looked down into it. In the summer perhaps Jules would use the area for play, but at this time of year the yard was comparatively empty.

There was a small bench, covered with morning dew, which made it an unfavorable place to sit. That was a relief, as Elizabeth thought it would be less awkward to be up and moving. At least if she and Darcy walked around the courtyard she could look down at the ground and not have to meet his eyes. They fell in together by unspoken consent and began making an uneasy stroll around the perimeter.

The silence between them was exceedingly uncomfortable. But Elizabeth had had time overnight to think about the events of the day before. She had considered what she would say to Darcy if she had a chance, and now, with this unexpected opportunity, she was determined to pay the debt she owed. Darcy might not accept her apology but she had to speak and at least try to right the wrong she had done to this man.

"Mr. Darcy," she began without preamble, "I am a selfish creature, and for the sake of relieving my own feelings I do not fear that I may disturb yours. I have something to say and I hope that you will listen to me and accept it in the spirit with which I offer it."

"You need say nothing," Darcy answered immediately, his voice heavy. "I am keenly aware of my failings. I do not deserve your pardon, but I offer you my heartfelt apology regardless."

Elizabeth could scarcely believe her ears. She looked at him in amazement. "You misunderstand me entirely. What do you imagine you have done, to require my forgiveness?"

"When I left Paris I went without a word of explanation, and gave you reason to doubt my affection for you. My behavior was unpardonable."

His apology was so unexpected that for a moment she did not know what to say. Finally she managed to exclaim, "As if you owed me any explanation! As if I were entitled to know your affairs, to be made aware of your comings and goings!"

"You are entitled," Darcy responded heavily, "if I ever hope to convince you that my feelings are sincere." He sounded despondent.

Elizabeth's heart gave a pang of sympathy. "Whatever doubt may have been in my mind was entirely removed by your actions yesterday."

"Then you forgive me?"

This would never do. "Please, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth stopped walking and faced Darcy, willing herself to meet his gaze. "I will not allow you to carry out such an injustice against yourself. You did nothing wrong. The truth is that I allowed Wickham's words to work on my wounded pride. I spoke to you in a way that I had no business and accused you of less than gentlemanly behavior when I knew only half the story. I am the one who must ask for your pardon."

Darcy's eyes searched her face. "Are you in earnest? Do you really mean it?"

"Though I occasionally profess opinions which are not my own, in this case you may trust my sincerity."

The corners of Darcy's mouth pulled up. "Then I suppose it was all worth it. Thank you, Miss Bennet." He reached out to her, bending his elbow as he silently offered her his arm to lean on. She slipped her hand into the crook and he immediately covered it with his own, taking a half step closer to her as he did so. For a moment they gazed at each other silently, with Darcy's dark eyes gazing into hers. She wondered if he was going to take her into his arms again the way he had the day before. But then he turned to face forward and the moment was gone. They resumed walking together, more slowly this time.

Elizabeth was not entirely comfortable; that would have been impossible under the circumstances. But she was pleased and relieved that this noble man had chosen to overlook her faults. "I should not have jumped to conclusions when you and Mr. Bingley stopped calling so abruptly."

"I do not blame you, but your fears were needless. Bingley and I were in a different city, involved in complex business negotiations with a demanding client. One of the requirements for these negotiations was to maintain absolute secrecy. We were not permitted to reveal our location to anyone."

She had never heard of such an arrangement but she supposed such things were possible. "Even my uncle was concerned for your welfare."

"As I would expect him to be."

"I was certain that both of you had decided to drop our acquaintance entirely."

"I cannot speak for Bingley, but you mistook me entirely. If there is any dropping to be done, it will have to be done by you, not by me." He gave Elizabeth such a look of frank admiration that she looked away in embarrassment. "But you were not wrong about your assessment of my character. I am used to having my own way. I do sometimes arrange things as I like, without properly considering the effects on those around me. It is a fault I have long recognized in myself."

Elizabeth frowned. "Are you saying that Mr. Wickham's accusations were true after all?"

Darcy hesitated before answering. "I do not believe so, despite what I have just told you. I have always, I think, behaved as a gentleman where Wickham is concerned. But I shall let you be the judge. I am willing to set out the entirety of my history with that man for your examination, and if you find it wanting, I will accept your verdict. Your opinion is the only one that matters to me."

With the current understanding between them Elizabeth was ready to accept whatever Darcy said. "I am no judge, but I would like to hear what you think I should know."

Darcy acknowledged her with a slight bow of his head. Then he paused to order his thoughts, his eyes focused on some distant point as he began to speak.

"Wickham is the son of a very respectable man who for years had the management of the Pemberley estates. My father was very fond of both the father and the son, and when the father died he took on Wickham's support, wanting to complete his education in the most gentlemanly way possible. Wickham was thus sent to Cambridge so that he could be ordained and make his living in the church. My father's affection for Wickham was steady to the last, and in his will he left him a valuable family living that would become his once the living became vacant."

"Mr. Wickham told me all this. He said that your father left him a valuable living, and that you somehow prevented him from receiving it."

Darcy made a scoffing noise in his throat. "Did he also tell you that he voluntarily renounced any claim to the living, and accepted a monetary settlement instead?"

She shook her head.

"Wickham's pleasing manners beguiled my father, but he could not hide his faults from me, someone his own age, who saw him in his unguarded moments. His character was dissolute, his behavior unpardonable. At university, instead of studying he spent most of his time drinking and keeping company with men-and women- of low reputation. After my father died he declined the living left to him. I agreed. I knew that Wickham should not be a clergyman. He accepted a settlement of three thousand pounds instead and I thought that was the end of the matter."

"Three thousand pounds!" Elizabeth repeated, faintly. It was a small fortune.

"But when the incumbent of the living died a year or so later, Wickham approached me again. He had changed his mind, he said, and was now determined to take orders. He was sure that I would grant him the living since, he said, I knew it was what my father wanted. I hope you will not blame me for refusing him. When I said no he became furious and we parted in anger."

Elizabeth was silent, taking in the new information. So much of what Darcy and Wickham said matched exactly. Yet there was just this one missing part that, if true, shed a whole new light on the subject.

"If you do not believe me," Darcy said, as if reading her mind, "you may apply directly to Bingley for the particulars. He was aware of events as they were happening."

"That will not be necessary," Elizabeth replied, feeling a new wave of guilt wash over her. How had her judgment become so clouded? "I think I begin to understand more, now."

"There is more to the story, however. Nobody outside the family knows what I am about to tell you, not even Bingley. I have never spoken of it to anyone, for reasons that will become plain."

Elizabeth glanced up at Darcy. The look on his face was so determined, so full of painful resolve, that she knew instinctively that whatever he said next would be momentous indeed. She stopped walking and faced him fully.

"Last summer my sister was taken from our home in Derbyshire and set up in her own establishment at Ramsgate. I engaged a companion for her and thought all was well, but I was deceived. Wickham made his way there and prevailed on my sister to believe herself in love. She consented to an elopement. If I had not joined her unexpectedly, they would have been off to Scotland the next day."

"Mr. Darcy, you do not need to tell me any of this," Elizabeth interrupted, distressed. Darcy continued as if he had not heard her.

"His object was undoubtedly my sister's fortune, which is thirty thousand pounds, but his motive was revenge on me. Had he succeeded, his revenge would have been complete indeed."

"I do not know what to say." Elizabeth nearly whispered the words, her eyes fastened on Darcy's cravat. "I wish I had never listened to Wickham. I begin to wish I had never met him."

Darcy's hand on her's tightened. "You must not blame yourself. Wickham is a practiced deceiver."

"I have learnt my lesson. Never again will I leap to another person's defense without thoroughly questioning their story first."

At that Darcy chuckled. It was such an unexpected sound that she looked up at him in surprise.

"No, Miss Bennet, that is . . . . Elizabeth." He waited to see if she would object to his use of her first name. When she nodded at him he continued. "I hope this experience does not change that part of your character."

"Which part?"

"The daring, fearless part that is ready to leap to others' defense at a moment's notice. It was one of the first things that drew me to you, along with your wit and your natural beauty, of course. You are quite the most entrancing woman I have ever met."

"Mr. Darcy, I-"

"Do not say anything." Darcy shook his head. "I know you do not yet have the feelings for me that I do for you. I can wait. I will wait as long as it takes, and do whatever I must, to convince you to accept my hand."

His boldness took her breath away, and again she looked away in embarrassment. "But we need not speak of that now," he went on, in a lighter tone. "May I ask under what circumstances Wickham spoke to you about me? Did he share his tale of woe on the dance floor?"

Elizabeth was glad for the retreat to safer ground. "As a matter of fact we met unexpectedly in the park one day while I had Jules with me."

"He followed you to the park?" Darcy was incredulous.

"I do not believe so. I think he was passing by and happened to see me there." But as soon as the words left her mouth she doubted the truth of them. Why had she never before questioned how Wickham had come upon her just then?

"I am not a great believer in coincidence," Darcy declared, almost as though he had read her mind. "He was probably aware of your daily habits and waited for an opportunity to speak with you alone. He is a very dangerous man. Is your uncle aware of your meeting?"

"I was embarrassed to tell him. He warned me to avoid him, but when Wickham approached me in the park I did not feel that I should give him the cut direct."

"It may have been better if you had, yet I understand your dilemma. You were in a difficult position." Darcy's brow furrowed. "Can you tell me everything he said? And everything you said to him?"

"If you think it wise. But what do you mean by Wickham being dangerous? He seems rather satisfied with himself and his importance in the world, and now I know that he tried to elope with your sister. But surely he is not dangerous to me. I have no fortune."

Darcy looked down at her carefully. "Has your uncle told you nothing of how Wickham makes his living?"

"No. I know that he is a dealer in some sort of rare item but I do not know what that may be."

"Rare item," Darcy repeated flatly. "Yes, I suppose that may be one way of putting it. Wickham deals in very rare items, Miss . . . that is, Elizabeth. He deals in information. He sells secrets to people who are willing to pay for them."

"Sells them to whom? What kind of secrets?" Her curiosity was now thoroughly aroused.

"Wickham is a great friend of the revolution." Darcy spoke carefully, weighing his words.

"He has made that plain."

"And he is an even greater friend to Robespierre himself."

"Dear heavens!" Elizabeth stopped in her tracks, aghast. "You cannot mean it! He knows Robespierre? The man behind the entire revolution?"

"I do not mean that they have a familiar relationship. But Robespierre has many agents working on his behalf throughout the city, and Wickham is one of them. They meet from time to time."

"How do you know this? Are you certain, quite certain, of what you are saying?"

"It is well known in certain circles. And for confirmation I have only to look at the man's circumstances. He recently changed quarters from one of the meaner establishments in the city to one of the finer addresses, and he has begun to employ others to work on his behalf. Surely you must have noticed a difference in his manner of speaking, in the way he carries himself. He feels that he is untouchable now."

Elizabeth's mind flashed back to her conversation with Wickham, where he had boasted of the new patron he had acquired and the new wealth he could claim. "He is a man of great importance in the city," Wickham had said, but had declined to give his name. "My circumstances have changed, my star is on the rise . . . I will soon be in a position to take a wife."

"Good God," was all she could say, weakly. There was no denying the truth laid out so plainly before her. She had been bewitched and beguiled by someone who had the ear of the most dangerous man in Paris.

So, the drama of the story has just ramped up a bit! How will Elizabeth react to this new piece of information? And how will her relationship with Darcy change as a result? You'll have to read the next chapter to find out! In the meantime, please leave a comment and let me know what you thought of this chapter. I read and treasure every comment made! See you again in three weeks! -Elaine