Good morning! I suddenly realized last night that I missed a week's posting-this should have gone up last week! I'm sorry! :-( When we left off, Elizabeth had finally figured out her husband's true identity, just as her husband disappeared once again! What is Darcy up to now, and what will Elizabeth do now to repair the breach between the two of them? Let's find out, shall we?

"Darcy! Thank God you are here! We have to leave this place as soon as we can!"

Darcy shook Gardiner's hand more gently than his wont, taking in the man's gaunt face and its pale color. "I thought you were on the mend. Your last message said the wound was healing."

"It has healed more than enough to get me out of this bed! Put me in a carriage, use one of those clever ruses of yours, and get us back to England!"

"I am not sure I agree." Darcy's face was grave as he glanced at the bandaged leg lying outside the covers on the bed.

Mrs. Gardiner stood next to the bed with Jules in front of her, her arms around the boy's neck. "My husband should not be moved! Something has gone wrong with the healing process. A cut should not take this long to heal. It has been weeks!"

"What does the doctor say?"

"We have not seen the doctor, not since the day after this happened. He cleaned the wound out and told us to keep it in the fresh air until it closed. When I saw that it was still festering I sent him a message, but he has disappeared. Nobody knows where he has gone."

"He probably fled the city in order to avoid being pressed into the army."

"I didn't dare try to find another doctor, not without consulting with you." Mrs. Gardiner wrung her hands in a gesture Darcy did not usually associate with her.

Darcy did not have to ask why Mrs. Gardiner was so hesitant to reach out to a new physician. A doctor examining Gardiner for the first time was sure to ask why a foreign gentleman of business would have a wound from a sword on his leg, and why he insisted on staying in an old, nearly empty storehouse. Anything the least bit out of the ordinary was sure to draw unwanted attention. Wickham had spies looking for the Gardiners in every corner of Paris, and these days anyone could buy an informant for a loaf of bread and get a sous in change.

"Courage, madam!" Darcy hated to see fear stamped on every feature of this gracious lady. "We will have your husband back in London before you know it! I am working on a plan."

"Forget your plan!" Gardiner exclaimed. "If you cannot take me, take my wife and Jules and go!"

"Absolutely not! We will not leave you behind." Mrs. Gardiner's voice brooked no argument.

"How far can you walk?" Darcy asked, turning back to Mr. Gardiner.

"As far as you need me to," Gardiner answered, at the same time that Mrs. Gardiner said, "Only a few steps."

"Have you been out of this bed at all?"

"I can make it to the next room and back!" Gardiner said defiantly. "With no help."

"Only once; and then he collapsed in pain," his wife contradicted. "I have been tempted to bind him to the bed to keep him from trying it again."

Darcy considered the couple, looking between them speculatively while he thought. "I have an idea, but I must devise some way to communicate with you. Wickham has put out word for an English man and woman with a son, but he is not looking for a street child out on his own." Mrs. Gardiner considered his words for a moment; then her eyes lit up as comprehension dawned.

Darcy called Jules to his side, then knelt down to be at the boy's level as they spoke. "Jules, do you think you can be very brave?"

"Oui, monsieur!"

"I have a mission for you to carry out."

The boy's eyes widened. "What do you want me to do?"

"Do you remember the place where you first met Monsieur and Madam Gardiner? On the day you came to live with them?"

Jules nodded. "Oui, on the sidewalk by the tea shop."

"You have it right; Monsieur Marait's tea shop. Do you remember how to get there and back here again? I need to send messages to Monsieur and Madam Gardiner. It is becoming too dangerous for me to be seen here. But if I hide a note in a special place near the tea shop, can you retrieve it and bring it back here? Without being noticed?"

"What special place?"

Darcy described a good sized tree that grew just opposite the tea shop, and a small knothole on one side of its base. Jules nodded in recognition. Darcy continued. "You must go by that tree around noon each day and look for a little white paper lodged in the knothole. But do it carefully, mind you! Try to look for it when nobody is paying any attention to you." Darcy was certain this would not be difficult. Street children were common in Paris and they were generally ignored, unless they were caught in the act of theft.

"I understand."

"If there is a message, take the paper out of the knothole, bring it straight back here and give it to the Gardiners. Do not stop for anything or anyone along the way. If there is no message, just walk past and come back here."

"Just as the Fleur de Lys would do!"

"Exactly so; just like the Fleur. Can you do this for your family? Their lives may depend on you!"

"I would do anything for them!"

"There's a brave lad! The Fleur de Lys is very proud of you!"

Mrs. Gardiner clutched Darcy's arm just before he opened the front door of the small storehouse to go out on the street again. "You must help us escape, Darcy. For the sake of my husband and Jules, do not abandon us!"

Darcy pressed her hand reassuringly. "I give you my word, madam: on my love for Elizabeth, you and your family will make it out of France alive!"

"How did I not see it before?" Elizabeth asked herself, scarcely aware that she was speaking out loud. "I could not have been more blind if I had tried!"

"You wanted to see me, Elizabeth?" Bingley stood in the entrance to the drawing room, a letter in his hand. It was early in the morning the day after the Queen Charlotte's ball. "Is there an emergency? Why did you request my presence so urgently?"

"You came!" Elizabeth fairly flew forwards and pulled Bingley into the room. She closed the door behind him.

"Of course I came, after receiving your summons. Though I cannot imagine why you have a sudden need for my presence."

She kept her voice down. "I suspect that you do. In fact, I am morally certain that you know exactly why I need to speak to you!"

Bingley looked puzzled. "Is this something to do with Darcy?"

"You need not play innocent with me any more, Charles. I know it all now!"

"I cannot even guess what you mean. I know nothing about Darcy's business affairs."

"You and my husband have been rescuing victims from the revolution in France!" she accused him.

He gave a short, affected laugh. "I know you like to tease, Lizzy, but there are some things that even you should not make light of! What if someone were to hear you and believe you?"

"I will not be put off by some polite fiction on your part! Now tell me, how long have you and Darcy been carrying out these missions of mercy? When and how did you start?"

"Missions of mercy! I have no idea what you mean. Try to be reasonable, please."

"I do not intend to be the slightest bit reasonable about this. Tell me what I want to know, or I shall be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find out on my own!"

He looked at her curiously. "What do you imagine you could do?"

"Would you like me to tell Jane what I know, and about the danger you put yourself in?"

"No! You must not tell her!" Bingley exclaimed. "If Jane finds out she will not want me to go to Paris again, and I may need-" His eyes widened and he hung his head. "Hang it all! I should have known better than to try to match wits with you!" He sank down onto the nearest chair and put his head in his hands. "How did you find out?"

"I realized it all here, last night, after I returned from the ball. It came into my mind somehow when I was in the library and once I had pieced it all together I could hardly sleep!"

"Darcy was going to tell you. I swear it!"

"When? When was he going to tell me? And why didn't he tell me before?"

"He didn't want you to let something slip that might endanger your aunt and uncle."

"Does he have so little faith in me?"

"It is not a matter of faith in you, or in anyone else. Darcy doesn't tell anyone anything about the Fleur unless they truly need to know it. That is the only reason we have been able to operate undetected for so long. If we are caught, we cannot be tortured into saying things we do not know."

"We! How many of you are there?"

The sound of the front door opening and closing came into the room just then, making Bingley exclaim, "Who is that?"

"I asked the colonel here as well." In another minute Colonel Fitzwilliam came surging into the room, the red tails of his uniform flying out behind him.

"What is this emergency, Mrs. Darcy? Why do you desire my immediate presence? Oh, it is you!" he added, seeing Bingley. Then he stopped and looked at Elizabeth, his thick brows knotted in confusion. "Is this an ambush?"

"An ambush is such an unfair description, colonel. I am only looking for information about my husband, and I believe you and Bingley can supply it."

"I see!" The colonel gave her a long, appraising look. Then he turned and shut the door firmly behind him.

Bingley waited until the door clicked shut before speaking to the colonel in a low, urgent voice. "Elizabeth knows, colonel. She knows!"

The colonel nodded sagely. "I thought it would not be long before she put it all together. What finally gave the game away, Mrs. Darcy?"

"The D'Arcy name, and the locket my husband gave me with the image of a fleur de lys on the back. Once the thought was in my mind I could not get it out, and then suddenly everything made sense. Oh!" she exclaimed, as yet another fact came into her mind. "You are involved as well, are you not, colonel? You must be, if you know all about it! You go on these trips too, do you not?"

"The Fleur de Lys, at your service!" He gave a wide, sweeping bow. "I am glad to finally receive credit for some of the things I do!"

"Wait - you call yourself the Fleur? I thought Darcy was the Fleur!"

"We are all the Fleur," Bingley explained. "Darcy is the mastermind behind it all. He plans out what we are to do and usually takes the lead role. But we all play our part. We are all the Fleur."

"How many men are in this group of yours?" Elizabeth demanded. "Who else is in it?"

Bingley and the colonel exchanged a glance. "We are sworn not to reveal that information," the colonel finally answered. "Not even to you. Believe me, you are better off not knowing. I am sure you have many questions, Mrs. Darcy, and we will do our best to answer what we can. But there are limits, even here in England. In time you will see that it must be so."

"Then perhaps you can answer this for me: when did my husband begin carrying out these rather surprising activities?"

"Perhaps you can answer a question for me, first," the colonel countered. "Why do you need to know?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "I have a confession to make, colonel. I betrayed both you and my husband at the ball last night."

She braced herself for his response, and was deeply puzzled when he answered simply, "Oh, is that all?" He sat down casually on the nearest chair and calmly removed a small snuff box from his jacket pocket.

Elizabeth could scarcely believe what she was seeing. "Did you hear what I said? I betrayed both you and Darcy to Wickham last night!"

"I am aware of that fact," the colonel answered calmly, taking a pinch of snuff as if this was not a matter of the greatest possible importance. "That was a neat trick, by the way, getting Darcy's letter out of my pocket and reading it without me even realizing. You would have made a fine spy!"

"Then you know all about it!" Once again Elizabeth was overswept with surprise. "Can you ever forgive me? Can he?"

"Already done, Mrs. Darcy." The colonel observed her with compassion. "At least for my part, and I am sure on Darcy's part as well. But as I told you last night, you must speak with him! Then he can tell you for himself."

"Well I for one would like to know what is going on!" Bingley exclaimed. "I feel as though I have arrived in the middle of a story half told. I did not have a chance to speak with Darcy alone last night, being with Jane. Clearly there was more going on than I had any idea of!"

"If you have arrived in the middle of a story," Elizabeth retorted, "then I have only just started a lengthy novel. I have so many questions! When did all this start with the Fleur de Lys? How has it been secret for so long? How did he- how did all of you- manage to rescue so many people?"

"All fair questions, and you shall have answers to them, at least as far as we are allowed to give answers." The colonel nodded to the couch opposite him. "You may want to sit down, as this is likely to take some time."

Elizabeth took his advice and seated herself opposite the colonel. Bingley took a seat in the chair next to her, his sober expression a sharp contrast from the genial, light hearted man who had married her sister.

"Darcy began rescuing souls in Paris last spring, a year ago," the colonel began, "after one of his servants- Benson, in fact- was mistaken for a missing aristocrat and arrested. Darcy would not rest until he had rescued the man and smuggled him out of the city. After that he became aware of a priest who needed his help, and then it was a noble family begging for his assistance. Soon he began planning disguises and strategies, and recruiting men he knew to be faithful to the cause of liberty."

"That was why Darcy and I met your uncle at the ball that night, Lizzy, on the night that we first met you and Jane," Bingley explained. "We had been corresponding with him for several months before then and decided it was time to meet face to face."

Another wave of realization broke over Elizabeth. "Oh! The servants my aunt and uncle employed, who came and went so often! They were never servants at all, were they?"

"Did you not find it rather odd, how utterly inept some of them were at their work?" Bingley asked with a broad smile that would have been comical in other circumstances. "It was quite a shock for some of them, having to carry out the kind of menial tasks that had been performed for them all their lives. But it was an excellent disguise! Nobody would think to look for runaway aristos among the servants of an English businessman! Yet your uncle could only hide them for so long, and then he had to find ways to get them out of the city. That was where we came in."

"I feel so foolish! How did I not see what was before me the entire time?"

"When Darcy and Bingley began to court you and your sister," said the colonel, "necessity and pleasure came together. Calling on the two of you made it easy for the gentlemen to collaborate with your uncle without raising anyone's suspicions."

"So my uncle is also the Fleur!"

"Mind you, Darcy and I always wanted your uncle to send you back to England, for your own safety. But you and Jane were so insistent on staying in Paris!" Bingley shook his head in frustration.

Elizabeth was silent for a minute. So many things that had happened in Paris were taking on new significance in light of this information. "The day we married and left Paris," she finally said, slowly. "The carriages Darcy had decorated, and the way he told the soldiers at the gate to examine our bags as much as they wanted. That was all a diversion, wasn't it?"

"They could have searched our bags all day," Bingley confirmed. "It was our servants that they should have looked at!"

"A brilliant bit of improvisation, from everything I heard." The colonel was speaking again. "Throwing the coins into the crowd was a stroke of genius. But improvisation has always been Darcy's strong suit. I wish you could have seen it, Mrs. Darcy, the day he and I nearly came to blows outside the gates of La Forge! I was certain he was about to take his revenge on me for years of me lording it over him!" He gave a great laugh.

"You shall tell me all these details later, colonel. Right now I want to know: what happened to my aunt and uncle after we left Paris? Why didn't they follow us to England? Are they safe?"

"They tried to follow us two days after we left," Bingley told her, "but there was some kind of accident along the way. Your uncle was injured. We- Darcy and I- have been waiting for him to recover before attempting a rescue."

"My poor uncle!" Elizabeth exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand. "And my poor aunt! And Jules! Have they been in hiding this whole time?"

"Well hidden and well protected. They are safe enough for the moment. Their difficulties will come when they try to make their escape again."

"Did Darcy go to get them?"

"He decided it was too dangerous to wait any longer."

Elizabeth felt her heart constrict with fear. What if she never had a chance to speak to her husband in person again? What if he never came back? What if he- but Bingley addressed her.

"Now, tell me what happened last night."

Answering this question took some time, as Elizabeth started by telling of Wickham's first visit to Darcy house and his threats against her aunt and uncle. The two men listened attentively. "Nonsense!" the colonel exclaimed. "Wickham has no idea where the Gardiners are. His threats were empty. Even Bingley and I do not know exactly where to find them. Darcy put them in one of the warehouses that the Gardiner's servants used to hide in."

"What happened after Wickham left the house that day?" Bingley asked. " Did you tell Darcy about his threats?"

"How could I, without endangering my aunt and uncle?"

"And then Darcy found out about Wickham's visit but not what was said," the colonel filled in, "so he did not know what to think."

"Darcy knew that Wickham called on me?" Elizabeth exclaimed. "How did he find out?"

"Benson told him."

"Of course!"

Darcy's sudden withdrawal and troubling silences now made perfect sense. His words in her dressing room days later took on new significance. He had done his best to convince her to confide in him, but she had pushed him away. How had she managed to do so badly, time and time again?

"I am beginning to understand it all now," she said out loud. "No wonder he was so willing to believe what Charlotte told him about me last night." She described their encounter with Charlotte and the count, and both men nodded in sympathy.

"Then Wickham found me a few minutes later. He demanded that I take the letter from you, colonel, and read it. At first I was not going to. I had already decided to tell him no and confess everything to Darcy, but Wickham said he would hurt my uncle and his family if I did not. I did not feel that I had any choice."

"So you stole my letter," the colonel added, in a tone that was half scolding, half admiration, "but then you tricked the trickster. Darcy told me all about it."

"All I did was tell Wickham that your meeting would be at half past midnight instead of exactly on the hour."

"But then you went to the Fleur yourself and warned him about Wickham, putting you and your family at risk. Mrs. Darcy, you have shown a level of courage that would put many a soldier to shame!"

Colonel Fitzwilliam's words brought tears to her eyes. "I have been a coward," she contradicted, swallowing hard. "None of this misunderstanding would have happened if I had stood up to Wickham to begin with. If only I had told Darcy about his threats to my aunt and uncle and Jules . . . " She could not bring herself to finish.

"Is Darcy in danger?" Bingley asked the colonel. "Does Wickham know who he is?"

The colonel shook his head. "He knows that the Fleur sent a message to me so of course I am being watched, but there is no reason to think he has connected the Fleur to Darcy. However, everyone connected to me must be under suspicion. it is safe to assume that Wickham has spies watching you by now, Bingley, and probably searching for Darcy."

"Does Darcy know that Wickham might be looking for him?" Elizabeth wanted to know. "Can you send him a message to warn him?"

"Darcy is well aware of the danger." The colonel's voice was firm. "He chose to go to France anyway, out of love for you. But this is the last time. If Wickham doesn't guess the truth soon he is a bigger fool than I took him for. The play is nearly over, the curtain is about to drop. This rescue mission will be the last act in the story of the Fleur de Lys."

So the stakes just got higher, if such a thing is possible! From here on out expect each chapter to be a nail biter! I hope you like the story and that you will leave plenty of comments to let me know. Thank you, and I'll see you again in three weeks!

***Important note: as stated at the beginning, at some point near the end of this story I will begin posting on a much more rapid basis until the whole book is up and available for reading. But due to piracy concerns it will only be up in its entirety for a short time, and just before commercially publishing it I will have to remove most of it to comply with publishing rules. Please proceed with this understanding in mind.*** Elaine Owen