Elizabeth instantly realised that Roberts was within a hair of telling Anne precisely what had happened. "Excuse me," she said, and took Anne's hand, half-leading, half-pulling her out of the room.

"Miss Elizabeth, what's happening?" Anne wailed. "What's wrong with Aunt Georgiana?"

Elizabeth's head was spinning a little. It was almost impossible -- nothing like the long, drawn-out death of her father -- she had seen her, that very morning. I thought she was a ghost. Elizabeth shivered; yet Georgiana had not been a ghost, she had been distraught and wan, but nothing worse; she certainly had not intended to be killed. And Colonel Fitzwilliam -- Elizabeth had not, frankly, given him much thought, except to consider the woeful lack of perception in his choice of a wife. He was not someone who left a great mark; one enjoyed his presence while it lasted, and forgot him once he was gone. And now, she thought, he is gone.

"Anne," Elizabeth said, "you must be very brave, and very strong."

Anne's lip wobbled a little, then she stood up very straight, lifted her chin, and acquired a stern expression somewhat at odds with her pixyish little face. "Yes, ma'am," she said, then added, "for papa?"

Elizabeth felt her breath catch in her throat, and knelt down. "Yes, for your papa. You see, your aunt -- " Elizabeth swallowed, uncertain how to phrase it -- "your aunt was out riding, and a carriage went towards her too fast. Her horse was surprised, and all of them fell down together."

"Oh, is she hurt?" Anne's blue eyes opened very wide. Elizabeth sighed.

"Yes, Anne. The carriage -- your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, was in the carriage. And they are -- they are both -- " Surely there was a gentler way to phrase it? "They were hurt so badly that they died. Do you understand?"

Anne blinked. "Aunt Georgiana -- and cousin Richard -- they're gone, like mamma?"

Elizabeth shut her eyes briefly, determined not to falter, but feeling a great upwelling of grief. She straightened and said, "Yes, they are."

"Oh no -- papa," Anne cried, and begun tugging at Elizabeth's hand. "Miss Elizabeth, we have to see papa -- and Stephen -- oh, Miss Elizabeth, you will stay and help, won't you?"

"Yes, I shall, as long as I may," Elizabeth promised, and quickened her steps, scooping Anne up in her arms. Darcy was not in his study or in Stephen's room; but a servant said tearfully,

"He is in the library with Lord Westhampton, Miss Bennet," and sniffed. It was clear that the news had already reached here -- Roberts had probably told Darcy first --

She had no thought for anyone but Darcy and Anne when she entered the library; but to see Lord Westhampton's large, tall form shaken by near-silent sobs, his face contorted by grief, was an almost physical pain. Darcy was next to his brother-in-law, at first oblivious to her presence; he was speaking in a low, soothing voice, and seemed perfectly composed. Too composed -- Elizabeth glanced at his hands, which were usually a better sign of his mood than his face; he was slowly and methodically shredding a handkerchief into smaller and smaller pieces. His face was pale, and his eyes rather too bright --

"Papa!" said Anne, and hurled herself at him. The two men took notice of her, and stood up, Westhampton rather slowly and dazedly. Anne wrapped her arms about her father's neck, burrowing against his shoulder; Darcy, with a little sigh, laid his cheek against her hair.

"I have to return to Aincourt," Westhampton said woodenly. "The arrangements -- "

"I can -- " Darcy began.

"No!"Westhampton lowered his voice. "I beg your pardon, Darcy, but I -- I would like to -- to manage it. I wish to do something -- one last thing -- for her."

Darcy looked at him steadily, then inclined his head. "Very well. And what of Stephen?"

A look of such fury entered his eyes at that moment, that Elizabeth took a step backwards. "Keep him out of my sight."

Darcy's eyes flashed, but his voice was calm. "It isn't his fault. Georgiana could never stand to be cooped up -- she was often restless indoors, regardless of what Stephen may or may not have done -- and always a reckless horsewoman."

Westhampton's lips twisted bitterly. "For God's sake, Darcy, she is dead! Have you no delicacy whatsoever? Can you not keep from criticising your relations for one moment?"

Darcy lifted his chin. "Stephen is alive."

"Do what you like with him. I will keep you apprised of how the arrangements are going." He brushed past Elizabeth, slamming the door shut, and Darcy took a deep breath, turning to her with a blank expression. She felt vaguely intrusive, and nearly inquired if she should leave --

With an unsteady sigh, he reached out one hand, and said, in a tone that anyone else would have taken for dispassionate, "Elizabeth. I . . . I am glad you here."

---

Chaos reigned for the next few days; she scarcely saw hide nor hair of the Crawfords, although from time to time, during her nocturnal wanderings, she could hear Mrs Fitzwilliam's lonely weeping. By Jane's persuasion, Lady Elliot returned to Somerset and her husband's estate, although the two ladies still corresponded frequently, Lady Elliot liberally distributing advice on every possible subject. Bingley took his friend aside and directly said that he did not wish to intrude, but whatever Darcy wished, he would do it -- stay, or leave, or anything at all within his power. Darcy was within a hair of asking them to leave, for their own peace of mind; Elizabeth persuaded him out of it. Mr Gardiner had intended to join his wife and children at Pemberley only two weeks hence, before taking them back to London with him; he cut his business short and arrived only five days after the tragedy.

That day, Elizabeth was for the first time introduced to Stephen Deincourt. The little boy sat very upright, pale but composed. He gazed at Elizabeth with clear curiosity, which could not but be a good sign, and she smiled at him in return. He had his uncle's stern good looks, and although his wide eyes were grey rather than blue, in shape and expression they were very much the same.

"Stephen," said Darcy gently, "this is Miss Bennet, who shall be your aunt."

Stephen, clinging to his uncle's hand, bowed politely. "Good morning, Miss Bennet," he said gravely. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Should I call you 'Aunt Elizabeth,' as Jenny does, since you will be my aunt too?"

"You may," said Elizabeth, "if you would like. I have heard a great deal of you from your uncle."

Stephen smiled shyly. "So have I -- about you, that is. Uncle Fitzwilliam likes you a great deal."

"I hope as much as he likes you," Elizabeth returned. Stephen looked up at his uncle hopefully, and seemed somewhat comforted by what he found there. He chewed his lip.

"Shall you stay with us, Aunt Elizabeth?--before you are married -- shall you have to go away?"

"I hope not," said Elizabeth, "although I cannot say for certain. I shall certainly stay once we are married."

"My mamma went away, and she didn't come back," said Stephen, "and my papa has gone away, because he doesn't like me anymore, because he's upset about mamma, and my grandmamma died too -- that's what it's called when you go away and can't come back. Uncle Fitzwilliam, is mamma with grandmamma, since they are both dead?"

Darcy looked briefly perplexed. "I rather doubt it," he said, after a pause.

"I hope not, because grandmamma always made mamma unhappy. Is mamma happy now?"

"Yes, she is," Darcy said firmly, "although I'm sure she misses you."

Stephen blinked. "Can you miss someone and still be happy?"

"Yes," Elizabeth and Darcy chorused, then smiled at each other. Elizabeth knelt down, and continued, "You see, my papa died, and I loved him very much, so I am sorry; but I am glad, because he is happier now. And I am happy because I am going to marry your uncle."

"I am not marrying anyone," Stephen informed her. "Except I think I would like to marry Anne, if I must marry."

Darcy cleared his throat. "You may worry about marriage when you are older."

"As old as you, Uncle Fitzwilliam?"

He flinched. "Perhaps not quite that old."

---

"He is far better than I expected," Elizabeth remarked, as Darcy escorted her to the green parlour.

"Yes, it's been a good day," Darcy said; "that is why I wanted you to meet each other now, before -- well, it varies."

"Lord Westhampton still blames him?"

"Undoubtedly." His fingers tightened against hers, and Elizabeth gently stroked his hand.

"People always want to blame someone, I believe. It is perfectly natural."

"His own child?" Darcy glanced at her sharply, then looked away. "I am sorry, Elizabeth, I should not speak so to you."

"At the funeral, will they -- "

"If Westhampton says anything to Stephen," Darcy said fiercely, then stopped -- "Still, it is in a way fortunate that Stephen shall not have to go to Aincourt again; I do not think I could bear to send him away, knowing how unwell he is."

Elizabeth did not think he could bear it either.

---

Lukia: Georgiana is dead. It is not a tragedy in that the central characters make it all right, but certainly has tragic elements. Thank you!

Eowyn: I'm glad you're enjoying it. An evil cliffhanger -- and then I took so long to update! I'm evil, truly.

elen: Thanks. Yep... another six months. You're welcome.

Mizzy: That bad, eh? Yeah, just a bit. LOL! His cat was grey, actually, but whatever. Thanks.