NOTES: Extremely humorous chapter- be wary of second-hand embarrassment! Told mostly from Lizzy's POV, with a bit of Darcy's thrown in. I'm not sure what the next chapter will bring, but whatever it is, it's sure to be a heckuva ride! :)

~Vinny

"We— we do?" Lizzy squeaked. Then, with a jolt of shame, she remembered exactly whose house she was currently sneaking about. "I- I am so sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on y-your property," Lizzy began babbling. "I only want to see Wi— to call on Mr. Darcy, and then the roads were too crowded, and I—"

Tender fingers quickly sealed her lips shut.

"Hush," Mrs. Hurst said with a shake of her head, "You needn't explain yourself to me. Well. Not quite yet. Don't worry— I understand you perfectly."

"Oh.. you do?" Lizzy whispered around Mrs. Hurst's hand, relieved.

"I do," she affirmed. "You know, when Reginald and I were engaged, he would sneak over my father's balcony to see me. Three stories off the ground! It was all very romantic… Incredibly dangerous, but we were swept up in the moment, you know."

Mrs. Hurst let out a dreamy sigh. "Ah yes. Those were the days. Reckless, reckless days."

"It sounds.. lovely?" an uncomfortable Lizzy said, "But Mr. Darcy and I aren't engaged."

"You aren't?" Mrs. Hurst arched an eyebrow, and looked Lizzy up and down with a sly grin playing on her lips. "You could have fooled me."

Lizzy pursed her lips in an awkward half-smile, and began edging away from the woman. This was a bad idea. This had all been a very, very bad idea.

Finally seeming to sense her guest's discomfort, Mrs. Hurst reached out an arm to stop Lizzy's retreat. "Wait!" she cried, then lowered her voice to a whisper. "Wait, please. I'm sorry if I offended you. It was not meant unkindly."

"I.. It's alright," Lizzy forced her face into a wary sort of smile, "But.. I really should be going now."

"No, please don't," Mrs. Hurst pleaded. "Really— my husband told me about you— I really must speak with you! Please."

That.. halted Lizzy for a moment. She turned back to her companion, a worried frown taking control of her features. "Mrs. Hurst, you... you've heard about me?"

"Yes, yes I have," she said, "And please, dear. Call me Lousia. You see, I think we will become great friends one day, from all that I've heard of you."

"What.. have you heard?"

Mrs. Lousia Hurst bit her lip in an attempt to hold back a grin. "Well… you see, my Reginald told me about how your.. How Mr. Darcy went on about you, seeking advice."

"He— he did?" Lizzy asked in a voice much higher than she would have preferred.

"He did," Lousia smiled. "He was asking how he could ever repair the damage between you two, and continue to see (now how did he put it?) the most mesmerizing woman on earth?"

Lizzy could feel her eyes widening. "William said that?" She whispered, forgetting in her shock to call him by his formal name.

"That was a little embellishment," Lousia smirked, waving a hand and making Lizzy's stomach drop. "But you understand the idea. He likes you, dearie!"

"He— Wi— Mr. Darcy—," Lizzy sputtered, red in the face, "Whatever he feels.. or— or doesn't feel— it's none of my business! I just wanted to.. To talk with him. Sort things out." She looked miserably up at the woman beside her, wringing her hands. "Why must feelings be so difficult?"

Softly, Mrs. Hurst stepped towards her. "They really needn't be, you know."

Lizzy groaned quietly. "I know, but… still.. It seems impossible for us to just talk like normal, functioning human beings."

"What's stopping you?"

She didn't know the answer— she had been mulling it over in her brain ever since the night where they were reunited— so instead she just chuckled, and shrugged. "Well, right now, this wall."

Mrs. Hurst turned with a keen eye toward the offending wall. "Is that it?"

"Basically," Lizzy chuckled, again. "I mean, if not for the wall, William and I would be in the same room, forced to communicate somehow, so— what are you doing?"

The plump, mustard-haired woman was now clawing at the window pane, straining with the effort of pushing it up. "I," she grunted, "am breaking down the wall. Figuratively, and," the window crashed upwards into its proper place, leaving an opening of cool air wafting out into the field, "Literally."

She grinned up at Lizzy, clearly proud of herself. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

The younger woman was standing, jaw agape, staring at her. "I— I can't go in there NOW!"

"Whyever not?" Lousia asked cheerily, sticking her head through the window and glancing around. "Hm. Darn. Mr. Darcy must've left while we were chatting."

Lizzy watched in stunned fascination as the prim little lady clambered over the windowsill, and landed in a heap on the carpet inside. Mrs. Hurst looked over at her with a smile as she stood up. "Are you coming, Miss Bennet?"

There are many times in a person's life where they have to make a decision that alters the course of their lives.

Elizabeth Bennet took a deep breath in, let it out, and climbed in through the window.

She stood to attention, shuffled her feet on the rug, and surveyed the scene. She could see, just by looking at it, that this room was one of William's favorites. It would be: it was large and elegant, with oak bookshelves crammed with loose pages and novels spanning every wall. There was a chessboard with a half-finished game setup, a desk with an inkwell, and a damp spot on the back of a couch that marked where William had been not long ago.

To the side, Mrs. Hurst was smiling at her. Hesitantly, Lizzy smiled back. Her stomach was still fluttery and nervous at the scandal of it all, but for some odd reason, her fear had undergone an all-but-completed metamorphosis into excitement.

"Well," she said, softly, "Not exactly how I pictured visiting Netherfield..."

"Quite," giggled Mrs. Hurst.

"..but all in all.. I think this will be a good thing, Lousia. Now, finally, I can have a normal conversation with—"

This time, when she saw him, she did not cry out his name. Lizzy did, however, clamp her mouth shut with such force her teeth rattled like snakes' tails in their sockets.

"LIZZY!" a partially undressed William gasped from the doorway.

His hair was still stained with water, the curls leaving little wet dots on his shirt, which (thankfully) was now buttoned back up. His vest was still undone though, and Lizzy could easily see the pink glow of skin beneath the fabric.

She averted her eyes, silently wishing she was never born.

William, for his part, was screaming on the inside as he quietly clasped his hands behind his back and stared.

Lizzy. Lizzy Bennet was at Netherfield. How..? How! Why was she in the library, and how had she gotten through the house so silently?! Darcy's eyes turned instinctively towards the window, where alabaster curtains now fluttered in the breeze.

She had.. Come in through the window. Huh. Well, Darcy had never been one to look a gift horse in the teeth when such a situation arose, but… Waitaminute, had Lizzy been able to see him the whole time?!

Oh lord, she must think him a slob seeing him in this mortifying state of undress… His top buttons were still undone!

His face burning with shame, Darcy carefully reached up to clasp shut his collar.

"Miss.. Bennet," he said, slowly, trying not to give away how fast his heart beat at his veins, "What are you doing here?"

For her part, Miss Bennet was also screaming on the inside.

She somehow managed to swallow the lump in her throat, and she curtsied prettily. "Hullo, Mr. Darcy," she said, her eyes not quite meeting his.

His heart sank, and the disappointment bled through his features like blood on snow. "Ah." He straightened, adopting that rigid stance he had learned from his father. "Hello."

Lizzy's eyes darted first to Mrs. Hurst, who was visibly cringing at the scene before her, and then to Mr. Darcy.

She saw, with shocking clarity, the boy she had known all those years ago, reflected in the way this man held himself— so stiff, so frightened. Her heart ached, and all of a sudden, all this awkwardness felt silly.

"William," she said with a shy smile, causing Darcy's blush to become even more prominent, "I wanted to see you, and to.. apologize. The situation with my father and your family is… complicated. Ahm. I don't want to push you away. I… William, I want to see you again. I didn't like how I made you run off earlier, and.. I'm sorry."

I love you, Darcy wanted to say. I love you, I love you, I love you so much, my darling Lizzy.

Instead, he said, "Um. Good. Jolly… jolly good."

Lizzy wilted a little. "Oh," she murmured, looking down.

Finally, Mrs. Hurst could stand it no longer. She coughed with the force of a seagull hacking up a bottle cap. Both of the other people in the room jumped at the sound. She smiled at them.

"How about some tea?" Mrs. Hurst asked forcefully, raising her eyebrows at both her guests.

"Sure," said Lizzy.

"Yes, that sounds lovely," said a very relieved Darcy.

"Good." Mrs. Hurst eyed them both suspiciously, as if they were about to individually do something foolish like burn the house down, or propose marriage without her spectating. "Now you two have a nice chat while I get the tea."

Mrs. Hurst then bustled out of the room, as if she didn't have an entire kitchen staff at her disposal, and left the two young lovers in the library, awkward and silent. They stared at each other for a long, long while before either got up the courage to sit down.

Thankfully (or perhaps unfortunately, depending on how you saw it) Mrs. Lousia Hurst knew enough about courtship to know to take her sweet time bringing tea.