Chapter 100

No black buggies disturb their walk the next day, which is in a way a disappointment to Nick, since he took the trouble to bring his slapjack along. He is quite certain his master won't approve of the two of them walking out after what happened yesterday, but Nick hasn't asked for permission. Miss de Bourgh wants to go out and Nick has been ordered to accompany her wherever she goes. It's a risk, but a slight one, Nick thinks he has scared the fellow off, and even if the man turns up anyway Nick is ready for him, a supple leather club weighed with lead hidden beneath his livery.

Nick has the agility and the muscle to give it a devastating efficiency, and he knows how to wield the tricky weapon, a legacy of growing up in a lesser neighbourhood in London without real supervision by attentive parents. The broken ribs will hinder him, but not so much that an assailant would notice.

She smiles at him, slightly worried, his face must reflect his aggressive thoughts. He cannot really afford to scowl in such a beautiful woman's presence, he's not that handsome himself, and where his charms usually make up for his lack of beauty, even they cannot improve his current black look. But seeing his mistress' beautiful face changes his face instantly anyway, from aggression barely contained to something that must approach infatuation.

The great charmer has taken a fall at last, and of course he had to make it as deep as possible. A fitting punishment for seducing and discarding dozens of women over his years of adulthood. How long will it take to get over a crush like this? Some of his conquests may be able to tell him. At least he has an excellent taste in women, it wouldn't do to break one's heart over anyone less deserving. Miss de Bourgh is rich, of an impeccable family, connected, beautiful, kind, and as if that is not enough, she is incredibly perceptive and very intelligent. Ergo, way out of his league. But before she leaves him to nurse his broken heart, she will give him the most precious gift in the world: herself. Tonight, or the night after, she's very determined. Which gives him just enough time to teach her a few warning signs, how to recognise fellows like himself, who are only interested in conquest, how to avoid pregnancy, venereal disease, exposure, betrayal. Call it a thank you for what he is about to receive, though part of him still feels inclined to refuse it. Will she cherish the memory for years, or will the shame he will cause her sour the moment as well as the memory?

Isn't it better to suffer a hopeless love as it should be, from afar? Won't indulging her, making love to her, spoil it? Well, it's too late anyway, they haven't coupled but they've done everything else. At least she will leave him knowing what love can be like. For despite suffering some serious doubts over his own place in life, he is very much convinced of his prowess in making love, even with the handicap of broken ribs.

'You're very quiet, Nick, are you sorry to have gone out? Do you think there is danger?'

So little time left together, better make the most of what is left, two, three days?

'I don't, Miss. Just a few regrets. Come, let us use the time we have left together well.'

And he proceeds to tell her things that make them both blush hotly, things that he hopes will keep her safe when he no longer can. And when after lunch she keeps him company during his hour of rest, he tells her even more. The very sight of her makes him feel happy and intensely sad at the same time. When he first saw her, maybe a fortnight ago, she was fagged and skinny, pretty, but in a rather fragile way. She didn't say much, but drank in everything that happened around her. And look at her now, not yet strapping, but glowing with health, fattening up, and bursting at the seams with confidence.

It's that Manners fellow! He did that on purpose, he planted her with a bunch of naughty girls to bring some life back into her. But even he must be surprised how quickly she improved in everything, looks, spirit, health. Maybe the man is good enough for her, though the very idea of Miss Anne falling into the hands of a philanderer offends Nick. Despite being one himself. But at least he knows he isn't good enough for her.

'Take heart, Nick. Tonight we can dance together, and then we'll have the best night of our lives. If I miss you too much, can I come visit? As one of your ladies?'

She must not find out what hold she has on his heart, she'll feel bad. It's not her fault after all.

'I'd be honoured, Miss.'

Their two days on the road so far have been magnificent. Their nights in little inns even more so, Darcy is reminded of their honeymoon all the time, except this is better. They know each other so well by now, have proven they are indeed a perfect match. Darcy's heady adulation for his new wife's beauty and wit has been augmented with a deep respect for her strong, stable nature. Her ability to give him what he needs most, even if it may not always be quite what she had in mind, makes him intensely thankful, and of course eager to give her everything he has the power to give her in return.

And right now that is relief of something that has been bothering her for some days now. It's not very apparent, she is as happy to be on the road as he is, drinking in the sight of nature and country life all around them, relishing the picturesque lodgings he has taken care to choose for them, exactly as he did for their first trip together. She is attentive and even forward physically, but whenever they have a moment of contemplation it is clear her mind is not pleasantly engaged, her beautiful face shows Darcy her thoughts are uncomfortable, painful even. Is it what happened between the two of them and Manners? It did clear the air, and Manners has been almost relieved since then. But Darcy has heard women don't just let things go like most men do. Generally it's Darcy who tends to be resentful and Elizabeth who convinces him to let go, but those cases mostly involved people they didn't care about doing something supremely annoying or even downright evil, anger the prevalent emotion involved.

It's the involvement of someone Elizabeth turned out to love more than she expected that makes it hard for her to show her usual detachment, Darcy is sure. If she were a man, she'd resemble her indolent father more than a little, she really doesn't care that much about things that can set Darcy aflame with rage, like her obnoxious small-minded cousin trying to sully her reputation. Her feminine emotions may be the only thing saving her from being as uncaring and sarcastic as her father, making her the admirable woman she is, and not just to Darcy, to a lot of others besides.

But now, Darcy bets those feminine feelings that temper her usual detachment are nagging her, making her a little less than happy. Time to address them, before they reach Pemberley just in time for dinner. They will be busy the rest of the evening, talking to Mrs Reynolds, and Nathan, and Darcy supposes, whoever of the staff want to have a chat with Elizabeth, she is not going to rebuff them. And tomorrow after church he will take his beloved on a long ramble through the woods, she has ridden a horse daily in London to please him, now he will please her by rambling with her, not just here, in Newcastle as well.

'Will you tell me about it, my dearest Elizabeth?'

He takes her in his arms, and she settles in his embrace almost bonelessly. They have become so close, he always has such an overwhelming sense of oneness when they seem to fit together so perfectly physically as well as mentally. But emotionally, Darcy still has to ask, or wait for his beloved to talk, in some ways women will always be different from men.

'I wasn't trying to keep something from you, my love. I didn't talk about it yet because I'm still trying to sort out my own feelings.'

'Won't you tell me anyway, and maybe we can sort them out together?'

'That is the problem: I can't put them into words. I haven't found those yet. But I'll try, I don't feel bad, just confused. First there is Frederick. I know I'm not in love with him, I love you and thus I know what being in love feels like. But when I realised I could no longer be friends with him I felt a despair deeper than I've ever known before in my life. What do I feel for him, my love? You're not jealous of him, so it cannot be romantic love. I've never had a brother, do you think love for a brother feels more like romantic love than love for a sister? I want him to hold me, but I don't want to kiss him or be intimate with him. I admire him, but I still don't like the way he seems to manipulate people, like he does Anne. What if she falls in love with him?'

Is he really not jealous of his beloved's feelings for Manners, now she is defining them so accurately? No, and he can easily tell her why.

'I think you are right, Elizabeth, I don't have a brother either, but I am a brother, and before she got engaged to Fielding Georgie relished holding me and sitting on my lap. She does it a lot less now, though.'

Which means Darcy really needs to get over his jealousy, it makes him weak, forcing his beloved into the arms of another. He needs to be there for her, that is his responsibility as her husband.

'And I think Manners will improve himself yet, he seems stuck in some sort of habit, but he has had a shock as much as you and me, and I think Georgie and Fielding as well. He will adapt, but slowly.'

She nods, she believes him. But it's not all there is, fortunately he doesn't have to insist.

'And besides having my feelings shaken by Frederick, I'm very confused by Jane's getting with child so soon after her marriage. I still don't want a baby, not yet, but what if I can never have one? Jane, Lydia, Charlotte, they all conceived so quickly. What if I am to be left behind, and leave you without an heir?'

To Darcy, this sounds totally ridiculous, but he can see Elizabeth is seriously worried. Women certainly are different from men, very much so. He will not tell her she will have a baby in due time, hopefully not before she wants one, for one can never be sure, so it would be a lie. He will not lie to his beloved. But he assures her of what he does know for certain.

'I will always love you, my dearest Elizabeth, whether you will give me an heir or not. The only thing that matters to me is that you are happy, and I will do whatever lies in my power to make you happy.'

It's the right thing to say, she relaxes in his arms and snuggles even closer against him.

'Why don't we arrange for you to talk to that midwife, love? She has seen hundreds of babies born, she will know how long it usually takes before a woman finds herself with child. Please don't worry even more, you used to be afraid to conceive, please do not be afraid to not conceive as well. It will make your life very difficult, and to no avail whatsoever.'

'I know, love, I know. I've never meant to worry about things I cannot influence, but somehow it just happened. But I was going to talk with you, as soon as I had found the right words.'

Still sitting together they reach their own lands, a mere half hour away from Pemberley, the surroundings already familiar to Elizabeth.

'Didn't we ride there once?' she asks.

'We did, and in a few weeks we will do so again. I hope we'll get there before dark, I'd like to set eyes on the house again. I'm glad it's Sunday tomorrow, Elizabeth, I'm looking forward to a long ramble through our own park. The horses can use a good rest, and I suppose Bob can't wait to show off his Fanny to the others. Do we worry about his meeting Bruce again? With Hugo still in London?'

Every hint of uncertainty is gone from his beloved's demeanour. This is her house as much as his, now, she knows everyone and has gained an immense amount of confidence in London.

'No we don't, my love. This is Pemberley, not London, this is Bob's original territory, and Bruce has been thoroughly chastened. Besides, Bob has Fanny by his side. She is very sweet but she will defend him to the death by now. Don't forget she was just a hired maid then. All will be fine.'

And she is proven right. When they do arrive, Peter takes charge of the horses, but not until he has drawn Bob straight off the box into a bear hug. He even takes the time to shake Fanny's hand. When Peter is done greeting his colleagues and walks to the lead horse to take its rein, Bruce appears from that exact spot to approach Bob very hesitantly. In the process of handing his beloved out of the carriage, Darcy cannot hear what they are saying, but he can see Bruce's penitent attitude, and Bob's easy greeting to his former tormentor. They shake hands and Fanny also greets Bruce. Of course, she knows him, she was already working for them as a hired maid before Darcy took things in hand. Peter must have insisted on Bruce greeting Bob before anyone else, smart fellow. Darcy hopes he will not spill the news of the new horse to Elizabeth, better talk to him for a second. Leaving Elizabeth to greet the butler and Mrs Reynolds, Darcy quickly says, 'Please excuse me for one moment, my love,' then practically runs towards Peter, who is already leading the carriage away. Like every horseman worth his salt, Peter is keeping a constant eye on his environment, and when he sees Darcy, he halts.

'Mr Darcy, did you forget something inside?'

'Hello Peter, good to see you again. How's the missus, and the baby?'

'Fine, sir, both fine. The missus is very busy, and not just with the baby, though he's a handful. Red-headed and a temper to match.'

'Good to hear it, Peter, that they're fine. I guess a baby with a temper is very tiring for both parents. Peter, please don't tell Mrs Darcy about the new horse, and let the other stablehands keep their peace, too. It's a surprise for when we move back here for summer.'

'Certainly, sir, I'll make sure no-one talks. And I'll keep an eye on Bruce, Bob will be perfectly safe.'

'I saw them meet, it looked promising.'

'Mr Hugo suggested it that way, sir. Told me to make sure they met first thing. He's a hard master but fair, sir. Taught me a lot this winter and allowed me to teach Bruce some. My missus likes Bruce and she's a fair judge of character.'

'I'll keep that in mind, Peter. Will you give her my compliments? We'll meet her again, I'm sure, but not today or tomorrow. See you around, Peter.'

Back to greeting Mrs Reynolds, she looks tired and old. Hugo was right, she needs to stop working for a few months, until her colour improves and she makes up for all the weight she has lost. But just look at Elizabeth, Darcy is sure the housekeeper will not recognise the shy, countrified girl that arrived here as new bride in this dignified, confident woman standing before her. If only Elizabeth doesn't stop being impertinent, for he loves it so.

'Mrs Darcy,' Mrs Reynolds says, almost energetically, 'I would not have known you again if it weren't for your beautiful coat that you had made here. You are so much a London lady in your bearing and your hair and all. I truly cannot see you have been travelling all day. But you have, and I will let you seek a little warmth and comfort inside. I'm so pleased to see you again.'

Elizabeth doesn't merely shake the old housekeeper's hand, she gives her a sincere hug, then observes, 'Thank you for your compliments, Mrs Reynolds. I'm very sorry to see you have been ill, I wish you would let others stand outside in the cold and stay in a warm, comfortable room yourself until you are a lot better.'

Outspoken, even blunt, still Elizabeth fortunately. And Mrs Reynolds needs it. Darcy suddenly feels inclined to hug the old lady as well, and he does, to her surprise. But he cannot help showing his worry by being rather severe.

'Mrs Reynolds, you have not been honest in your letters. I had to hear from Hugo that you have been very ill this winter, and I have promised him to forbid you to do any kind of work except maybe some needlework, until you stop coughing altogether and have gained twenty pounds. That is an order, Mrs Reynolds, and I expect to be obeyed. I will make sure there is a comfortable chair in the common room for you, so you cannot get bored or lonely.

Nathan?'

The steward approaches.

'You will find someone to take over Mrs Reynolds' duties, and you will help her replacement get started. Promote one of the maids if there is one who will do the job to Mrs Reynolds' satisfaction. Starting today, Mrs Reynolds is forbidden to work, or we will lose her to pneumonia before spring.'

Nathan looks glad, and Mrs Reynolds actually more relieved than anything else.

'I've someone in mind already, sir, I was just waiting for you to give the order. Shall I send someone to fetch the lady in question? It's Mr Eliot's mother, she lives with him now because she is getting on a bit, but she used to keep house for a rich relative somewhere down south. It's just for a few months, and she needn't do any actual work, just give directions. I'll keep the household accounts. Mr Eliot told me in church last Sunday that his mother is a bit starved for company, she'll be glad to be among people again.'

'Perfect, Nathan, please see to it. Unless you thoroughly dislike Mrs Eliot, Mrs Reynolds?'

'I don't sir. She's elderly, but I'm sure she can still run a household, and she is very dignified. I like that in a housekeeper. Had I known she was lonely I'd have asked her over before.'

'But you have been too unwell to go to church for weeks, Mrs Reynolds,' his steward comments, 'you couldn't have known.'

And he doesn't patronise the housekeeper by saying she can sit back and enjoy her free time, but does try to reassure her.

'I know it will be very hard for you, trusting another to do your work, but we are going to see to it that you obey Mr Darcy's orders. We all love you too much to just let you work yourself to death.'

Darcy will give him orders not to let her retreat to her private room all the time, but to invite her into their midst pretty often, and that will have to do.

Nathan helps Mrs Reynolds back inside, and Darcy and Elizabeth go upstairs to dress for dinner, finding everything in perfect order once again, Fanny truly takes her job seriously. But tonight she will finally meet all the Pemberley colleagues and undoubtedly have a good time with them, and tomorrow she and Bob will have a day off to spend some time together after church.

She is a fine dancer, Miss Anne, and though she's still devastatingly pretty in the sturdy linen frock and with two braids instead of her hair done up, she looks a lot less like a lady and much more like the sweet, innocent girl she is, despite being a woman in her real age. She seems to have thrown off the distinction of her rank even more totally than Miss Sophie and Miss Angelina and their two friends, taking in the shabby establishment with curiosity and distinct pleasure.

Her joy in being here is infectious, and when the music starts Nick asks her to dance before any other man can. His master did order him to stay close to her. The dance is a lively one, and within minutes her braids are loose and her cheeks are blushing with the exertion, and she compliments him outrageously.

'You look fine in livery, Nick, but seeing you in a shirt I'm tempted to take you to the back to skip a round.'

He has warned her that a proposal to skip a round together means kissing in the back of the room and sometimes even more, outside in a narrow alley or in one of the outhouses. They dance several rounds together, including a few much slower ones her own class would never tolerate for unmarried couples. Clinging together, Nick can see Anne is trying her hardest not to kiss him. But he must not monopolise her, she wants to get over her shame, and this is the perfect place to practise. He can keep an eye on her from the side, he needs a little rest anyway, breathing is hard with broken ribs.

'I can use a little rest right now, Nick. What do you say we skip a few rounds?'

Cheeky, cheeky, but she means it! A little alarmed, he lets her pull him to the back of the room, where she kisses him without a single sign of shame, until his knees buckle. This is not going to help him find his breath back.

Maria and Leonora are still dancing with their own retainers and the twins, known as Sophie and Angel here, have switched to local men, large boys, actually. They don't need a breather, and Nick decides to ignore their skipping rounds tonight, as long as they do it inside.

A local man, a handsome fellow with a black ponytail, asks Anne to dance with him, and she looks slightly put out. But this is what she wants, and Nick encourages her with a gesture, he will watch her to make sure she's safe. So Anne dances with another, and Nick watches all the girls in their turns, but mostly Anne. When they all gather for a drink, she appears shocked to see her friends drinking ale, unwatered ale. Nick and the other retainers have theirs well-watered, but the girls often return from these excursions slightly intoxicated. And since Anne has told him what his master never did, that Miss Sophie and Miss Angelina have until their twenty-first birthday to find a husband they can love, and after that will have to settle for a man of their father's choosing, he thinks they have a right to make merry now. Though he has a hard time believing the master will really do it, he dotes on those girls and he would hate to see them unhappy. He may get them a husband like Manners, though, boring but solid. Though if Anne is right her suitor is a lot less boring than he looks. Besides, Nick has gained a new respect for the gentleman when they talked in the carriage last night, he has a very well-informed mind and seems to have connections and influence everywhere.

'I've never had ale, Nick, I suppose I'd like to try it, but well-watered, like you take it.'

The ponytail man is gone, good, Nick didn't like the looks of him. But even before their little break is done another man wants to dance with Anne, and she accepts. This one is very young, not even twenty Nick guesses, and a veritable giant compared to Anne and even to Nick himself. Still he's nimble enough, Nick can't fault his dancing, though he dislikes the way the fellow holds Anne just a little too close, and touches her face and neck while passing her during the dance.

'Will you dance with me, Nick?'

It's Sophie, and usually he does dance with her most of the time, but he dare not let Anne out of his sight. What if the huge fellow tries to take her outside?

'I'm sorry, Sophie, I dare not get distracted, your father ordered me to keep an eye on Anne. Will you forgive me? I'll make it up to you next time.'

'Sure, Nick, I'll dance with John, he's nice, too. I guess you still have trouble breathing anyway.'

She is nice, and bit in love with him, but that'll fade once she starts to see rank. He wouldn't so much as kiss her, she's like a younger sister to him. Wait, where did Anne go? Scanning the crowd is easy, that fellow is so tall he spots him instantly, moving towards the back of the room. No! Anne! He wrings himself through the crowd and remembers just in time she may want to kiss this fellow. From his new vantage point he can see this is the case, he is not forcing her to do anything, they are kissing with passion and they look so good together! Damn. It is as he feared then, she doesn't love him at all, she's just exploring making love.

Anne has forced herself to dance with another man, if she wants to marry Frederick she will have to find her love elsewhere. She has never seen a man like this, shabby on purpose, his hair is long and unkempt, merely bound back into a tail, and he needs a wash badly. His odour is masculine all right, but overpoweringly so. Most people would consider him handsome, his features are perfectly regular, and there is a certain animal-like charm about him. But to Anne, he feels dangerous. Suddenly she realises that even servants stick to certain rules of cleanliness, but that normal people decide for themselves. Apparently, this man has decided to be more than a little grubby.

'I haven't seen you before, have I? You're a pretty little thing, I would have remembered. My friends call me Harry. What's your name?'

The man just freaks her out, this is not the place to find love, not for her.

'I'm Anne.'

'Well Anne, I'm very pleased to meet you. Can I offer you a beer? And then maybe we can skip a round, or two? Saw you making out with a plain kind of fellow just now and thought you might do better.'

With him? Drink beer? And kiss this, this... gypsy? That is what he reminds her of, a gypsy from a childhood tale of woe. Well, skipping a round with him will certainly give her woe, the thought alone of how he will smell from up close is enough to make her gag.

'I'm sorry, Harry, I think I need to join my friends, they're gathering over there. Thanks for the dance!'

Saved. There is Nick, handing out cups, good, she's thirsty. He's not looking too happy, he must still be in pain. Or no, of course he wants to dance, but he has to guard Anne. Well, one more chap, a better smelling one, and then she'll have to take a breather anyway and Nick can dance a little. Still, it's a lot harder than she thought to conquer shame, and if most men are like this she will not marry Frederick. She'll prefer to find a plain, good-smelling man to keep for herself.

'There you are, Anne, do you want beer?'

'Beer? I've never had beer, and I don't think I want to. Do you drink beer?'

'I like it, but we never drink on the job. I take mine very well-watered, drinking water in a place like this is plain suicide, and they don't serve tea.'

He seems to find the very thought hilarious. Well then, 'I'll have mine well-watered, too. Maybe I'll like it.'

And it's not too bad, bitter, but kind of pleasant. She is thirsty and drinks about half the cup in one go, and then the rest. The other girls are sipping, but they are drinking it unwatered.

Before she can talk to Nick, tell him about the grubby fellow, another man addresses her.

'Would you do me the honour of dancing with me, miss?'

Well, that is what she came to do. He is huge, and really very young, not a day older than nineteen she'd guess, but he looks clean and he is polite. She accepts his hand and follows him to the dance floor, where she finds him a good dancer but a bit pushy. He smells good, though, and he has no beer on his breath. His surreptitious touches make her feel flustered, or is it the beer? It was watered, wasn't it? Never mind, he leads well, and his strength is very interesting, very heady.

The dance is finished, and the big boy, who hasn't even told her his name, leads her to the back of the room, intent on kissing her no doubt. Well, some things are inevitable, and she doesn't feel threatened by a kid his age, no matter his size. So she lets him kiss her, and even kisses him back, but it's a big disappointment. It's not a bad kiss, or a disgusting one, and he has plenty of ardour, but there is no feeling in it, not for her. So far, casual love seems a great big disappointment. Except Nick. But he has told her he has been with a lot of ladies, maybe he is more experienced than most. Whatever, for now she's done with men she doesn't know.

Taking leave of this guy in a hurry, too, she quickly finds Nick, he's watching her, well, he is supposed to. And since they are friends here, she indulges herself by falling on his neck, taking care not to hurt his ribs. He smells like heaven, and his rather tight embrace feels safe.

'I can't do it, Nick, loving different men, it's gross. The first one stank, and he frightened me, and the other one though he could just do with me as he wished. He didn't even give me his name, and I felt nothing when he kissed me.'

He holds her like no-one else in the world and kisses her gently, she loves it when he does that, those tiny kisses filled with tenderness, not passion. She wants to cry, but he laughs merrily instead.

'You can't expect to like just any man, Anne, you have to choose carefully, only pick the best ones. Of course there are a lot of dirty, boring or downright nasty men. Women, too. Do you think I just invite anyone to my little hideout?'

In fact, Anne has been trying not to think of other women in Nick's hideout. Or his arms, or his bed. But she merely answers his question honestly.

'I have never thought about that, Nick. But it sounds right. I'm glad, I don't want to do that again, not ever. Well, I'm not going to dance with anyone else but you tonight. If you want to dance with another girl, I'll sit out a few dances where you can see me.'

'You can dance with John, or one of the other retainers. At least they're clean, and sober, and they are not going to ask you to skip a round. They know who you are.'

He seems eager to throw her at other men, but she's not going to fall for it.

'I'd rather not. You go dance with whomever you fancy, I'll be fine.'

'Well, there is a girl I'd like to dance with. I'm afraid she is a bit out of my league, but if I don't take a chance I will never win her.'

Brazen, that he is. And charming. She's jealous, though she can't think of a girl in this establishment being out of his league. He offers her his hand and says, 'Will you dance with me, Anne? Until we both need a break?'

The rest of that glorious night of dancing they are the only people in the world. Anne just shuts off the knowledge that Sophie and Angelina and their friends can see her dance with Nick, hold him, kiss him openly. She has never been on one of these outings, she doesn't know he is usually rather serious, keeping an eye on everything and anyone. As far as Anne is concerned it's likely he chooses a girl each time to snuggle with.

Whenever they tire, they watch the others together until they're up to another round of dancing, when they are thirsty they share a well-watered beer until Anne is past caring about anything but Nick. She has never seen him so familiar, not with anyone, not even under the influence of those pills. Rank is no longer an issue, they are a man and a woman intensely attracted to each other, and when the music calms down altogether and all the other couples start to dance very intimately, they relish the last half hour in each other's arms.

And then it's time to leave. Nick is back to his professional guise, and Anne finds herself very useful to support Angelina, who has drunk too much unwatered beer. Sophie stays close, walking slightly unsteadily, as do the other girls, apparently leaving this place in the middle of the night is not particularly safe. All five retainers have their eyes on a designated part of the surroundings, so there will be no surprises. Nick has one hand under his coat, Anne knows he keeps a nasty weapon hidden there, a kind of leather club weighted with lead. It's nearly invisible beneath any kind of shirt or coat, and it gives the carrier a distinct advantage over an unarmed man. A man armed with a slapjack equals at least three men unarmed, and anyone out for trouble will most likely be intoxicated as well as unarmed.

The carriage is waiting at the end of the alley, and the retainers stay alert while Anne helps the girls enter one by one. When it's her turn to squeeze in, Nick offers her the support of his hand. She's no longer merely Anne, they're back to the usual formality. He surprises her by squeezing himself in between two sleeping girls and gesturing her to sit on his lap.

'The others will ride on the outside, but I was told to not let you out of my sight. This is the only way we'll all fit.'

'You've let Angelina and Maria drink too much, Nick,' Sophie says, 'and I saw them kiss men, and not just our own.'

'I did notice, Miss Sophie,' Nick says respectfully, 'I thought they deserved to be naughty before they have to get married.'

'Is Anne getting married, then? I saw you kiss her, and not just once but all evening. You never kiss me.'

'She may be, yes, Miss Sophie.' Then he relents, and asks kindly, 'Did you mind very much, Miss Sophie? Did you want it to be you?'

Sophie has had more beer than she should, and it's making her very honest.

'A bit, yes. I never minded the other ladies, but Anne's my friend. But I know you don't love me, Nick, and papa would never let us get married anyway. I think I've met a nice man, one papa liked. He's pretty old, but I thought he was very sweet. Even though he's in the army. Do you think an army man can be sweet, Nick?'

He does not pry, or comment, he just answers the question. He may not be as sweet as Fitzwilliam, but he is a very kind brother to Sophie.

'Sure, Miss Sophie. Officers don't have to do their own killing, so they can be very sweet. Though I suppose they also have to be very brave.'

'I don't think he loves me, I suppose he thinks I'm just a girl.'

Nick laughs, but not in a mean way.

'You áre just a girl to him, Miss Sophie. You need to get him to notice you. Most men like books, and music. Sing for him, next time you meet. You have a beautiful voice. And don't try to be smart, you're sweet, so you should act sweet.'

Nick has no idea how right he is. No mere girl can ever compare to Elizabeth in pertness, especially not Sophie. But the complete opposite may have a chance to win Fitzwilliam. Then she remembers Elizabeth is at most a year older than Sophie, and she starts to doubt her friend's chances all over again.

Nick has had the night of his life, but it has also brought him a world of trouble. Three of the girls are completely wasted, they'll be sick as dogs tomorrow. A fourth has been watching him making sheep's eyes at Miss Anne all night, and the fifth... His stomach churns. The fifth is going to leave him. Oh, they will meet again, at concerts, even at the Blackwoods' mansion. But she will be engaged, then fall in love with her faithless husband, then get with child.

Well, first things first. The girls all sleep in the same room, and Nick will be careful to keep the necessary items handy: buckets, clean water, painkillers, plenty of clean bedding and wash-cloths. He will very probably sleep right next door to them in Miss Anne's room, and he'll keep a set of comfortable clothes handy in case he needs to nurse someone through the night.

But what goes around, comes around. Since the other retainers have been taken back to their homes or masters' houses, Miss Sophie and Miss Anne help him bring in the other young ladies. Everyone inside should be asleep, but they aren't: Felicity and Dora, the ladies' maids, are waiting for them in the hall.

'You must be dead tired, Nick,' Felicity offers. 'We'll help the young ladies to bed, you turn in straight away, you're still hurt.'

'You were so brave with that awful butler, now let us help you, please.' Dora is cute and not of this household, normally he'd have tumbled her within the week, but somehow she seems to lack a little ginger now.

'I'm staggered you'd do that for me, but they're intoxicated. They may be sick tonight, I'm afraid I allowed them a little too much beer. I can't let you make up for my mistakes.'

By now they have the girls in their bedroom, Miss Anne is helping Miss Angelina to undress, the two maids help their visitors, and Miss Sophie manages really well on her own.

'You must turn around until we have our nightgowns on, Nick,' she says imperiously.

'With your permission, Dora and Felicity, I'll fetch some things I may need tonight.'

'Yes, please, Nick,' Felicity replies, 'a bucket, painkillers and clean water. And maybe some extra bedding and a few cloths. And then you really can leave them to me, I've nursed the mistress through quite a lot of hangovers. I'll get my magic medicine when they are all in bed and sleeping. Maybe you can bring an extra pallet from the room next door? I'll sleep in here in case someone needs me. Trust me, I'll have them at the breakfast table tired but sober. Miss de Bourgh, you seem quite all right. You may want to sleep in your own room, tonight.'

'I think I'll also sleep in my own room tonight, Felicity,' Miss Sophie offers. 'Then you can take my bed. I don't think there will be much chatting tonight.'

Nick cannot take a closer look at her to see whether she is not too drunk to stay by herself, since she's in the process of undressing, so he merely fetches the things they need. When he returns, everyone is relatively decent, the intoxicated young ladies are fast asleep, Miss Sophie and Miss Anne are gone from the room, and Felicity addresses him, 'I've everything under control, you seek your bed. Miss Sophie is sober enough, she can sleep by herself, as can Miss de Bourgh. Good night, Nick!'

Officially, Felicity indeed outranks Nick, though she would never make an issue of it. But Nick is aching to be with Miss Anne for what may be their last night together, so he salutes and says, 'Aye, mistress. Thank you, Felicity, I owe you one.'

'No you don't. You got rid of that beast. You know he pinched me and prodded me? I swear he would have forced himself on either myself or Dora within the month. Why don't you visit me sometimes, Nick? I could thank you more fittingly. Dora, too, she has quite a fancy for you.'

They're both cute, but, 'I'm sorry Felicity, I don't do that with my colleagues. And if I don't do it with you, then I won't do it with Dora either, even though she's not actually of this household. Fair is fair. Believe me, it's more trouble than it's worth, having to work together once something goes wrong. But thank you for the offer, you're both really attractive.'

'Too bad, Nick, but I understand. Now off with you!'