A/N

Hi everyone! Here is the next chapter. If I re-edit this one more time I may, in fact, go insane.

On the topic of editing, I have an exciting announcement. I do now have a Beta, the lovely Dr-Lizzy who is going to be helping me with the previous chapters. I think I'm in luck, already having covered the first chapter, she's helped immensely. Many many thanks to her.

So just giving you all a heads up if you get any updates with the early chapters being switched in.

Once again a huge thank you for all those who have reviewed, they mean the absolute world to me. It is the best feeling in the world to know people are reading my work and love it so much. I absolutely adore when people have taken the time to write detailed reviews, the debates and conflicts people are picking up and discussing are absolutely fascinating to me! I am trying to respond to reviews (I have a few to go back to), but if you have a guest account I can't respond, but some of them are so lovely, I really do appreciate it.

One question I did get- How long is this going to be? I think I'm about a third of the way in, so we're heading for about 120k?

I know, I know, I too wish I had a full book already written. Believe me.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Chapter 11

Meryton Town

Mr. Darcy was standing in the doorway of her favourite bookshop.

She hadn't noticed him at first, the lively bustle of the town and the familiar company was an experience she was trying to savour. With time running short, it was unlikely she would be walking into town again in the remaining days.

It was perhaps regretful that the Bennet sisters were joined again by Mr. Henton that late morning. His local farrier was ill, and he wanted to get his filly reshod in Meryton before the roads turned. He also claimed, while stopping off at Longbourn, that he was dearly coveting the company of lively friends and conversation, beyond the talk of his over-eager steward and the ghastly topic of irrigation. His dramatic good-natured beseeching for such company brought much-needed amusement to all of the sisters and succeeded in securing their company to venture as a merry group into Meryton.

It was quite ill-timed that he had once again charmed laughs out of both Elizabeth and Jane with his observations of the busy town folk at that precise moment. Elizabeth would have suspected habit, not instinct, if she hadn't hesitated slightly before she'd looked towards her favourite shop, good humour still alight in her face.

Mr. Darcy was staring at her, unabashed at being caught, with that intensity Elizabeth was becoming accustomed to. Narrowed eyes ran over the walking triplet, dismissing her sister for a more thorough study of their male companion with evident distaste. They settled back on herself and even at this distance she could see his jaw tensed forward.

Elizabeth raised her chin high, even as her cheeks tinged in silent indignation. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Mr. Henton was a gentleman and she had no reason, nor desire, to cut his friendship. Even beyond that, to end the connection would bring more questions than they could afford, and any sort of truthful explanation was too much of a risk to their family. As such Mr. Darcy had no right to look at her that way, a simple walk into town along with her equally attended sisters was no reason for any such evident display of disapproval.

Mr. Darcy evidently disagreed.

Having received the attention he was after, although probably not the reaction, Mr. Darcy scowled once more pointedly at Elizabeth's male companion and then back to her, indicating sharply to the store behind him. Having given such clear instruction, with seemingly little thought to the possible consequences to Elizabeth's reputation, he disappeared inside.

Elizabeth stiffened, her steps becoming stilted. She had given no indication of agreement and desperately wanted to ignore him, pretend a misunderstanding of such obvious instructions. Arranging a public meeting certainly matched the level of arrogance she had come to expect of him, but that character flaw did nothing to negate the risk to her, the risk to her family. And yet, she could not afford to ostracise Mr. Darcy, between risking her reputation and vanquishing it as he could very well threaten to do, there was not much of a choice. Something that was becoming a grim pattern in this whole affair.

It had been three days since their exchange in the brambles. Mr. Darcy had laid out her future like some pitifully weathered map, tearing away at the fold lines, showing her what remained was left solely in his hands. It was full of arrogance, layer after layer of opportunistic pragmatism that had served its ill purpose.

Elizabeth had forced out her agreement.

This less than enthusiastic utterance was all Mr. Darcy required. He gave a barely-there nod to her compliance, a far cry from his visual and vocal anger at her initial resistance. A reaction more telling of his foregone conclusion that she would agree to his offer, no matter her personal objections.

And that, her agreement, seemed to be enough to change his attitude going forward. Gone were the thinly veiled threats and pointed comments about the inevitability of it all. Mr. Darcy took on a business-like manner that Elizabeth struggled to stomach. The returned gentleman act cast a sour contrast as he proceeded to lay out the details surrounding her fragile future.

She was not so naive to the world that she could not appreciate the material value Mr. Darcy was offering. As much as she found the costs to herself repugnant, as long as Mr. Darcy would honour his word, her family would truly be taken care of. They would remain at Longbourn and be provided with a small income from the estate's profits to cover the living cost. Her family would not have the luxuries that were available to them before, but appearance-wise, little would be affected or, more importantly, noticed.

Despite his early words he didn't seem to expect any expression of gratitude from her, at least he gave her little opportunity to do so once he had started on his tirade. It was an uncomfortable feeling that the man could possibly have more to him than the clearly self-serving nature of his intentions. Not that this financial generosity changed anything to Elizabeth's own opinions, it should come as no surprise that a man like Mr. Darcy would simply pay away his sins. But it was, it was extravagantly generous, and she resented her unspoken gratitude and insurmountable relief that she felt for her family.

She had held her tongue more successfully throughout his extensive listings, knowing it was time to concede rather than to continue to antagonize. After all, her decision to accept had been decided the moment she'd spoken to her father that day in his office. Hot-tempered and defiant as she had been to Mr. Darcy himself, she was not an irrational creature. She would have reacted with fewer ignitions to the man's approach had he expressed the courtesy of patience, of empathy, giving her to time to absorb and process the situation and her options.

Somewhere in their more considered exchanges, she suspected he too had come to this conclusion. Which she believes had led to Mr. Darcy granting this small leeway to delay departure for a week further, on the accordance that he had her agreement and compliance going forward. It would, he had justified, give him some time to send for his own carriage and make further, more time-sensitive, arrangements.

"Miss Elizabeth, are you well?" Their companion broke her away from her thoughts.

"I.. yes. Yes I'm fine Mr. Henton. Would you excuse me, there are some new volumes I am hoping that Mr. Jackson has gotten in," she looked over at Jane catching her sister scrutinising her, knowing this was likely a lie, "I won't be long if -."

"Well I'm sure we can escort you, I don't mind a bookshop-"

"No that is to say, please do not trouble-"

"What my sister is too polite to say, Sir," Jane cut over Elizabeth softly, placing a hand on her younger sister's arm, "is that she can be especially diligent when choosing her next read, and prefers to browse alone. Go ahead Lizzie, we won't be far, just catch up to us with the others by the pond just there. We won't venture further."

Elizabeth once again blessed the heavens for Jane. As children, they had shared all their secrets under the protective barrier of a well-placed duvet. To Jane's credit, she hadn't even acted surprised when Elizabeth had lain down on their bed three nights ago and gripped her hand in the way she always did when she had something painful to confess. Jane had waited patiently, soothingly, as sobs took over her younger sister body before Elizabeth could even bring herself to utter a word. And when she finally did, she wasn't the only one struggling with tears.

They had talked over everything, with more depth and truth and pain than Elizabeth could have even hoped to do with either one of her parents. But with little means and no time, no solutions were found. Elizabeth had woken up exhausted and resigned, and Jane had known to not start speaking about it again. Jane would do what she could to help, as she always would.

She heard Jane asking about Mr. Henton's filly, distracting the man as her sister purposely started striding away from Elizabeth and whatever awaited her.

The store appeared empty as the little bell above chimed her entrance. Even the owner usually in his staple position at the front counter was scarce. It wasn't a particularly large store by any means, but it was deceptive. Once you stepped beyond the front with the large windows and neatly aligned favourites, the light became absorbed by the many illogically placed wall tall stacks, creating a winding shop of dark small crevices. It was a shop she was familiar with, but not one she had ever been comfortable to venture beyond the front unaccompanied before. She had barely managed more than a few steps into the first turning when Mr. Darcy was in front of her, griping her upper arm.

"Come. Over here."

She couldn't believe he actually had the gall to put his hands on her in a public store, in fact, to even place his hands on her at all was such a breach. Taken aback, she didn't even resist at first when he started to pull her towards him. Furious, she barely stopped herself from verbalising her outrage, only her fear of drawing attention to them kept her tongue. She tried to pull her arm away, taking a step back towards the entrance, but his grip firmed.

"Elizabeth be sensible. I think we'd both prefer not to speak near such a window." At least he had the ounce of sense to keep his voice low, even as his actions were absurd. Acting on his visible frustration at her lack of compliance he increased his strength, pulling her further into the first narrow row. Elizabeth's resistance was hurting her, and really what choice did she have, they couldn't stand or speak so close to the entrance where anyone could just look in. Especially not like this, with his hand pulling at her. The thought of being witnessed was mortifying.

And he was still pulling her, drawing them deeper into the stalls, turning them around so she was set into a small little nook, a bookcase inches from her back, and he was stood, visibly angered, blocking her off from the main row. Even now that they were positioned out of sight, he made no move to release her. He seemed to just consider her with his typical displeased frown. Now they were stationary, Elizabeth twisted to the side, attempting to move away from his hand, but the man only seemed to track the movement and go with it.

"Mr. Darcy, unhand me," said Elizabeth, decided on a more direct approach, taking care to keep her voice low and considered, even as she felt her concern rise. Mr. Darcy had her essentially trapped. His grip did not budge, instead, he moved closer until he towered over her, mirroring his hand with his other keeping her set in place. If she had felt concerned before, that was minimal to the seeping panic that was triggered by his movement. She attempted a shuffle back feeling the shelves behind her, forced to bend her neck back uncomfortably to look at him, "Sir, what are-"

"I was under the impression," he spoke finally, brown eyes lacking any warmth that the colour would suggest, "that when you requested time with your family, that you were not referring to Mr. Henton."

"Sir, let go of me," she managed to keep her demand to a whisper, dropping her eyes in mortification at the hold he had on her, how close he was to her and how intimidated she was by the man standing over her. She wasn't Elizabeth Bennet; she was a young woman whose closest interaction with an unrelated man, until this day, was a distanced dance in a public ballroom. Now, she was trapped, and he was hurting her.

Mr. Darcy ignored her again, too intent in using his close contact to force her attention, "Elizabeth, answer me."

Elizabeth closed her eyes and swallowed her pride, "Sir, please…you are hurting me." With some surprise, the hands fell away instantly. She could feel movement in front of her and opened her eyes to a somewhat more comfortable distance between them. Her arms hurt, but as did her pride so she resisted the instinctive need to soothe where his grip had been.

"You haven't even asked me anything," Elizabeth spoke curtly, feeling stronger now she wasn't basically pressed up against a wall, "you have made unfounded-"

"-Don't play the fool, you know what I'm asking." He may have removed himself further away, but the anger in the man was evident in his every word, the tightness he held in his body.

Elizabeth took a forced steady breath, "If you are implying a connection between me and Mr. Henton, you are mistaken. Mr. Henton is a friend of the family; my interactions with him are-"

"-your interactions with him should not exist!" Mr. Darcy stepped closer again in his passion, but Elizabeth's responding flinch was enough to still his movement. It seemed to take the man some significant effort to keep a distance between them. "Stop that Elizabeth, you know I'm not going to hurt you," he snapped at her while frowning at her further unconscious flinch. She narrowed her eye at his false words; even now she could feel the lingering impressions from his fingers indented in her skin. But greater damage could be done this day, more than a few bruises to her arms if their interaction would be discovered.

"Sir your voice!" Elizabeth whispered, feeling the surrounding silence strongly. She hadn't heard or seen anyone else in the store, but she had barely put a foot through the door before she had found herself manoeuvred into this nook. She would hope Mr. Darcy had some forethought to check out the place first, but he wasn't exactly taking the time to reassure her, and right now Elizabeth doubted his ability to consider such threats rationally.

"Mr Henton," Mr. Darcy demanded.

"He is just a friend, would you have-"

"A friend?" he scoffed, "Unmarried women are not- Do not lie to me, Elizabeth. I know you. You've considered him," he searched her out, looking for more than her words, "I saw you dance together. I've heard you speak to him."

"Sir that is not your concern-"

"Everything to do with you is now my concern Elizabeth. Just three days ago you agreed to be mine. I did not think it had to be said that you should not be…" he screwed his face up, looking her up and down "soliciting other gentlemen."

"How dare you!" Her whole body shook with a need to lash back. He was practically calling her a whore, which considering what he had set in motion was sickening. She dug her nails dug into her own palms grounding her.

"Maybe I misjudged you," he continued, "thinking you had come to reason. Was this your plan? To beg a week off me, hoping to hoodwink some unsuspecting gentleman into a marriage with a daughter of a pauper?" he raised his eyebrow cruelly, "Why, that is a plan your mother would certainly approve of."

"Stop it." His cruelty was suffocating, she just wanted it to end.

"Your father is unlikely to object, if he's able to trade you to me, a sham marriage is surely less objectable. Would be a shame about your sisters, I doubt your Mr. Henton has the finances to take care of them too."

"You disgust me," Elizabeth's voice shook, layered with anger and hurt, "I'm not going to stand here and let you assassinate my character," taking her own words as her que, she went to move past him, and was surprised when he stepped back and out of her way, making no move to stop her. She barely made it a metre when he spoke to her back.

"If you leave now, I walk away too Elizabeth. From all of it."

Elizabeth hated him. In that moment, beyond all other emotions of helplessness, anger, fear and frustration she felt hate. She forced herself to stop, to turn around. It should have been impossible for her hate to increase and yet catching the triumph in his expression as she turned did just that.

"Not going to count on Mr. Henton after all? Good decision. I suspect, should he be informed of your change in circumstances, your fine Mr. Henton would be rather less available to attend such enjoyable familiar outings, don't you think?"

"Just stop it!" finally raising her own voice to match his.

"Then answer me!"

"Answer you? All I have done is…What exactly is it that you want to hear Mr. Darcy?" she lashed back at him, "That I would prefer him? That I would prefer to be under the care of someone kind and gentle? Someone I care for, respect, could one day even love?" her voice cutting over that pitiful last word while his eyes flashed dangerously in response to her blatantly clear admissions, "As it has been stated at me time and time again, Mr. Darcy, it matters very little what I want."

"This time was supposed to assist your adjustment, to allow you to take time with your family," his hands curling into tight fists, so tight in fact that Elizabeth wondered if he was envisioning holding her arms again, "not to allow you time to hoodwink a gentleman into gaining a connection that is now below his standing."

"I have done no such thing. There is nothing between myself and Mr. Henton. Something I expect behind all this irrationality, you know full well sir."

"I do know. Or at least I shall, I will simply take away the temptation. We will leave tomorrow, Miss Bennet, make your goodbyes, even to your Mr. Henton if you must," he spat out mockingly, "but tomorrow, you and I will be on a carriage."

"No, you said I'd have a week," she tried to reason with him, "a week with my family. You said a week."

Mr Darcy just shook his head, "Not anymore."

"Mr. Darcy, I am basing my entire agreement on the belief that you will keep to your word. Why should I even take the risk, when you break your word whenever the weather suits? What if I talk to a groomsman next, am I expected to find my family cast out a mere week later?"

"You don't get to disparage my word Elizabeth; I merely stated a week would allow me to make further arrangements. It is your actions to continue on with a potential suiter that have made me reconsider them unnecessary. You shall trust my word because you and your family have no choice but to do so," he looked away from her, "Do not think you have been discreet in making yourself clear that you would have little to do with me otherwise."

He seemed to collect himself, reining in his emotions in the face of her rising distress, "I, however, have no intention of not holding up my end of the arrangement, whatever you may think of me, I am a man of my word," he looked back over to her, taking in her less than assured stand and clear distaste at his presence, "What remains to be seen, Elizabeth, is if you can settle yourself to yours."

Frustration and panic were welling up in Elizabeth, she could feel tears threatening her. She had her pride, but the idea of having so little time to say goodbye to her loved ones, to the life she had always known was overwhelming. She closed her eyes and swallowed, "Please, it's not – I haven't had enough time with my family. I'm asking you to reconsider."

He stared at her, letting silence fill between them.

"Mr Darcy ple-"

"-Prove to me you mean to keep your agreement," he finally said, cutting her off softly. His tone such a conflict to every other word spoken from him that day took her back with equal confusion as his words.

"I have given…I do give you my agreement. I will leave with you, I will do as you wish, I don't know-"

"-Prove it to me Elizabeth," he stepped forward, closer, almost as close as before. And in case his demand wasn't clear enough, "kiss me."

The demand was so shocking, Elizabeth just stared at him, eyes unwillingly flicking to his lips but then ahead to his necktie trying to correct herself, before he could see.

"Sir, we are in a public bookshop," she clung to society rules, anything that would give her some protection from this act.

"I am aware of that Elizabeth" Mr. Darcy spoke with a slight tone of humour.

"It would ruin me, my sisters," she could feel her eyes sting, "You said they would be protected from scandal."

"And they shall. I paid off the shopkeep before you even stepped foot in here, we are alone. Alone until that bell rings," he spoke calmly, soothingly, edging closer to her, placing his hands on her arms again so gently, that if they hadn't been in the exact spots he'd hurt earlier, her body probably wouldn't even have noticed them, "Just kiss me, Elizabeth."

She wanted that time. She wanted to curl up in her safe haven with her sister, she wanted to listen to her sister's squabble over ribbons and the pianoforte. She wanted to play chess with her father, and even embroider in the front room with her mother. But her body physically repelled at the thought of kissing this man that in the span of minutes had made her feel so weak, helpless, and had physically hurt her, all while standing in a bookshop she had only ever loved.

It was foolish, inconsequential to what was to come with the man, what she would have to bring herself to do as per her own word. Yet right there, right at that moment, it was something she couldn't give him. Not if he was actually giving her a choice.

"No, I cannot. No." She was going to cry, she could feel it break away from her, and she closed her lids to try and hide it. He removed his hands from her arms, but this time he did not step away.

"Elizabeth," her name was warm against her cheek, but all she did was shake her head slightly. He could take from her if he wished, there was little she could do to stop him, but she would not breach this gap.

The back of a finger stroked away the first tears, the act causing her instinctively flinch her face away from the unexpected touch until it wasn't there anymore.

Neither of them moved. She dare not open her eyes especially as more tears fell. She dare not breathe as his seemed to deepen and surround her.

"Fine," he ground out, stepping back once again, "The carriage will arrive just after dawn."

"Take these, they have been paid for," he abruptly pushed a duo of books into her hands, causing Elizabeth to open her eyes to avoid fumbling them. "For the journey," he clarified bluntly as he turned and left, going deeper into the store exiting through the back.

A/N

Thank you for reading xxx

Let me know what you think! I know I haven't got some of the dialogue descriptions quite right on this one, but I will just have to face it another day. Our Mr Darcy is definitely skating over a few lines!