It was with great indignation that Rukia was brought to the manor house and tended to by a servant. Mr. Kurosaki remained steadfast despite the complaints she uttered, her comments primarily that of his responsibility for the situation, that he should have known better than to envoke such shock upon an unknowing person, and for the present challenge at large. She was brought to a sofa where she could recline without trouble. When questioned as to her ghastly state, which was most unfitting for a distinguished lady, Mr. Kurosaki swiftly replied that she had taken a fall while walking, and that he happened upon her sometime after. To this, Rukia did not object, for her tendency of climbing trees had long been a cause of complaint amongst nannies and servants alike. The lead housemaid inspected her ankle and sent away for the physician. Rukia dismissed all manners of concern, for it was a mere sprain, and not worth their trouble.

Mr. Kurosaki's traveling companions were equally mortified. Rukia learned they were distant relatives of Mr. Kurosaki; Mr. and . In response, Rukia assured them they were not at fault, with the family indeed planning to return for not another day, and her own actions to the contrary could not have been predicted. She regarded them with a frankness that was yet polite; the location of her beloved home easily dispensing of formalities. It was not long before she conversed with the couple most favorably. She asked their opinion of the house and grounds, and took delight in their praise for it. Her attitude was reassuring. Soon, they took seats of their own within the room, and engaged in pleasant chatter as if she were a longtime friend.

Mr. Kurosaki sat far against a wall, as if he wished to become one with it, and that the world would reject him if he ignored it with enough purpose. Rukia soundly ignored him, for he was not worth the effort; and if she did not acknowledge her feelings for him, perhaps they would similarly disappear.

The physician arrived in due time, and pronounced her to have limited movement for a few days, but her recovery was otherwise assured. With that, Rukia continued to host most amicably despite her restriction.

Pemberley was host to the finest collection of furniture, draperies, portraits, and artifacts not seen for many miles. It was also home to a gallery of a vast collection of statues from antiquity. The marble figures came from across the Mediterranean, but primarily Rome and Greece. The collection was of great interest to esteemed visitors of the manor.

After a conversation at length regarding art, Rukia inquired if the Williamsons had viewed the art on display, and if their opinions of it were favorable.

"Indeed," Mrs. Williamson said excitedly. "We were most impressed!"

"I know our Ichigo certainly was," Mr. Williamson said while regarding their nephew. "How amazed he was at such an exotic collection! From Rome, I believe?"

"That is not what I mean. Did you see the portrait gallery beyond that, the one adorned with the yellow curtains? The windows face east," Rukia said.

Mr. Kurosaki frowned in thought, and said, "The one with the strange sketches in charcoal?"

"Yes, that is the one. That is the gallery of work created by myself and my elder brother."

"Did you draw them when you were a child?"

Rukia shot him a most unamused glare across the room. With careful skill she ensured the Williamsons saw none of it, and instead they praised her skills as an artist freely and honestly.

"I thank you. I have studied the arts for a very long time. My brother is happy to oblige me and feature my works for visitors," Rukia said confidently.

"You truly have a talent, Miss Rotwood," Mr. Williamson said in earnest.

"Most certainly," Mrs. Williamson said.

Rukia thanked them with a pleased smile, and noted Mr. Kurosaki's scowl with amusement.


After a great deal of pleasant company, the Williamsons declared the need to depart, for they had felt they had imposed upon Miss Rotwood's hospitality for too long, and wished for her an abbreviated recovery. Rukia thanked them for their company, and, after learning that they were currently residing at Lambton inn, encouraged them to meet her brother the next day. To this they were all in agreement; so long as Mr. Kurosaki was not considered.

Mr. Rotwood was surprised to find his estate host to company upon his arrival. Rukia could not fault him for it, as it was indeed a rare occurrence for her, as well. Despite it, he received them politely enough, if outwardly stoic, but Rukia knew his true nature as far more caring than he appeared. The Williamsons and their nephew arrived as discussed. Easily did Mr. Williamson engage in discussion with Mr. Rotwood on the fine woods surrounding Pemberley, and the prospect of hunting there. To Rukia's surprise, Mr. Rotwood agreed, and the men left to do so the very next morning. Rukia herself continued to engage with Mrs. Williamson's animated conversation. The library of books at Pemberley was fascinating to her. Rukia easily encouraged her to peruse it as necessary. Throughout all of this Mr. Kurosaki grew to accept events, for the situation was so very clearly out of his control, or understanding, that he resigned to observe from the background. To this, Rukia paid no heed. She found his actions amusing, if somewhat childlike, and absolved her from further awkward confrontation.

Her solace did not last long. It was some days before Mr. Kurosaki approached her as she lounged in a sitting room. Her condition had still limited her movements somewhat, and there was little she could do upon his request to speak.

"Is something the matter?" she asked, watching him with concern.

"I apologize for disturbing you. I wanted you to know that I received your letter and acted upon its contents. My family has had no connection with Mr. Abarai since I learned of your story, and he will have no further contact hence."

"I am thankful to hear it," she said, though was unsure of their conversation, and feared it might devolve into pettiness. "On that account… I must reiterate my words, in that I owed no insult towards you or your family. I must apologize for my behavior."

He shook his head. "You are not the only one who owes an apology. My own behavior…" he paused to wince, "was uncalled for."

"I must admit, your reasons were sound; there is no reason for apology. I have accepted that, now."

"My words conveyed meaning, but the barbs were uncalled for. I know a lady deserves better treatment."

She dismissed his concern with ease, not in a condescending way; and remarked they could both be considered at fault for a most unfortunate event.

"The subject is once I have great care for. I lost my temper because of it. My mother… She and my father married for love. From a young age, she impressed upon me the importance of marriages formed out of love, and acting in accordance with one's heart. Above all else, she taught me to be steadfast in acting this way. No matter the objections of the world."

With this Rukia wholeheartedly could accept, and she listened to him with the utmost attentiveness. "I can find no fault in that. No… I have learned this lesson, as well. My brother married for love, against objections from our family. She was a dearest sister to me. I have only respect for anyone who acts according to their heart. It is entirely too rare to find such a pledge."

Their gazes met with sober understanding. Awkwardness has long given way to it. Then, as if remembering where he was and his original purpose, he thanked her again for her warnings against Mr. Abarai, and excused himself from the room.


A letter arrived at Pemberley with great urgency. Curiously, the letter was for Mr. Kurosaki, but upon learning from the inn they could be found at Pemberley, had proceeded there without haste. Quickly did Mr. Kurosaki read the letter with haste. Then, he announced he had to leave at once for Longbourn. Any protests from his relatives were immediately dismissed in his worry. He announced that his sister had fallen ill, having taken an alarming turn, and it was requested he return at once. He called for their coach and made to depart immediately.

Rukia rushed outside to follow him, and ordered her own coach to be ready for departure. Upon his questioning gaze, she simply replied she had greater experience in such matters than he, and that she would also send word for their own physician. His objections faded immediately. Without preamble she entered her own coach, and they set off with haste.

Rukia's arrival at Longbourn was markedly different from before. As she approached, she spied figures rushing to receive them upon the drive, which turned out to be a servant, one of the sisters- Yuzu, she realized- and Mr. Ishida.

They received Mr. Kurosaki readily and found some measure of relief in his arrival, but could hardly spare their surprise at noticing Rukia.

What lingering hesitation was brief and gave way to desperation. Mr. Ishida led them upstairs into a modest bedroom where Karin was laid in bed, her complexion flushed and coated in sweat. Her father and housemaid were tending to her closely. Upon their intrusion, Rukia gave them no time for protest. She rushed to the bedside and appraised the girl's condition quickly.

"How long has she had fever?"

"It has come and gone for several days. She has felt like this for the past three." Mr. Ishida said.

"When did she last eat?"

"She's eaten little in a fortnight, I'm afraid," the servant said.

Rukia asked for a cloth and fresh bowl of water. "Doctor Thorne will arrive before long. I have no doubt of his abilities."

"We have already called a physician," Mr. Ishida said.

"She will need more than a county physician," Rukia said as she placed a hand against Karin's forehead. "I am not inexperienced in such matters."

"Miss Rotwood-"

"If it is debt that concerns you, perish the thought; for I promise you will owe nothing." She took the seat next to the bed before any Kurosaki could protest. Any objection to it was quickly replaced by their worry for young Karin. Rukia could see plainly enough the utmost concern in the family's eyes. Ichigo Kurosaki was no exception.

When the servant returned with the water, Rukia placed the damp cloth carefully on Karin's forehead and face, dabbing gently with the greatest care. The younger Mr. Kurosaki sat opposite the bed, offering whatever he could in aid. They banished the elder Kurosaki to the hallway, for he had little to offer in such a time. Yuzu and Mr. Ishida waited dutifully for the doctor's arrival downstairs.

"I do not understand why you help us," Mr. Kurosaki said, after some time had passed. "Nothing requires you to act this way."

"What good are matters of status and lineage in the face of health? Sickness does not care for such things. It does not respect the lines drawn in society." Rukia removed the cloth from Karin and rinsed it in the porcelain bowl. "I cared for my sister-in-law for years during her illness. I have become quite skilled in the matter because of it."

Ichigo watched her as she carefully returned the cloth to Karin's brow. "I would think you would have servants for that," he said, though not unkindly.

"Indeed we did. However, that was not enough to keep me from my sister's bedside."


The physician arrived with due haste and attended to Karin's condition. He appraised it as a minor fever and offered what treatments they could. At Rukia's request, he continued to stay and monitor the young girl's condition. Then, after many hours, her fever finally broke and her disposition improved. The doctor excused himself after offering advice of continued bed rest and simple foods to appease the humors. Windows were opened to bring fresh air into the room, and it was only then did everyone allow a sigh of relief.

As soon as Karin's peril was confirmed to be over, Rukia left for the drawing-room so the family could tend to girl themselves. She allowed herself to sink into a chair in a most undignified way, a consequence of her own fatigue and lack of rest over a great many hours. Then, young Mr. Kurosaki appeared in the doorway, causing her to quickly right herself into proper posture.

"My apologies," he said calmly. "I did not mean to startle you… again."

"You are skilled at it, surely. But there is no need to apologize. I am a visitor within your home. You are within rights to do as you wish."

He scoffed, but his expression had softened in the most unusual way, which Rukia could not find memory of.

"What is it?" she finally asked, with little regard to the directness in her tone of voice.

His expression changed little, only allowing for a faint smile to become evident. "Thank you."

"Oh…" She strove to collect herself. "No, I have done nothing more than can be expected."

"I would not discount tending to my sister as 'little'." He offered a slight smile, a sight very unusual to Rukia, though not unpleasantly so.

"Pray, remember that I did not act with any regards to you. My actions were solely the result of common decency towards a neighbor in distress. Therefore, if you were to suppose my behavior was the result of any affections towards you, I assure you the idea is a false one. You did not so much as enter conscious thought from the moment I learned of your sister's distress."

His mouth teased a knowing smile. "No. I knew better than to assume that."

She averted her gaze from him. "Good. I am glad we are in agreement."

She rose from her seat without further preamble and asked to take her leave. With hesitancy did he agree; and he led her out a side passage which exited into a garden. It was there Rukia saw what meager plants were there, and the remnants of statues. But most important of all was the stone urn and pedestal which were striking in their familiarity. But a moment passed before the recognition came, the sculpture precisely matching what Orihime had attempted to portray in her art.

It was only when Mr. Kurosaki led her to the coach did Rukia understand the full implications of it. For her driver had seemed most familiar with Longbourn and the drive there, and greeted the servants easily. But all doubt was promptly banished as Yuzu scurried outside to see her go, thanking earnestly Rukia for her aid, and wishing that Miss Inoue would visit again soon, being unusually long since they had received her last in the spring.

With as carefully a concealed expression as Rukia could muster, she allowed herself a single glance towards Mr. Kurosaki. Her gaze lingered despite her resolve. "Thank you for allowing me to assist. Now, Mr. Kurosaki, I will trouble you no further."

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but she turned away, signaling the coach forward before any chance of his reply.


Upon her return to Pemberley, Rukia sought comfort in the expansive woods, where she might be free of scrutiny; for it allowed her feelings to go truly expressed without burdening others. So, too, did surprise fill her as she contemplated the events of the past year. How foolish she was not to realize the subject of Orihime's affections! How hypocritical of her to endure her own heartbreak and affection for Mr. Kurosaki, all while harboring it as secret, and passing judgment on her friend's own affairs. Yet, there was nothing to be done, for every aspect of it was settled within the past, and events already in motion to severe them from it.

Knowing this rationality did not stop her from dwelling on Mr. Kurosaki and the emptiness now felt at Pemberley. Her only respite, as miserable as it was, was the notion that some hope may yet exist for her dear friend; for it was with Rukia alone he held quarrel with, and surely returned Orihime's affections, so sweet a creature she was. To the match, Rukia could not object; for the matter of love was to be held above any barriers of society.

If they were to wed, Rukia could endure. She would have no other choice than to remain at Pemberley, or in London, to further shield herself from further anguish. Yet, she would only wish them every happiness in the world; even if it were something she could never partake. By nightfall, she was certain of this, and had resigned to planning her next course of action at another time. Her heart felt heavy, and she longed for a full night's sleep. Indeed, the matter of Orihime's happiness could wait another day.

Her brother did not comment on her behavior; a gentle understanding greeted her during their mealtimes together. The evenings were quiet and respectful, as he knew of the signs of heartbreak, having become very familiar with it himself two years ago. It was a quiet conversation after dinner when the truth of her mourning was exposed. Although she did not name him outright, or admit to her feelings, Mr. Rotwood supposed the details of her affection by the manner to which she answered his queries, and the way she refused confirmation when he veered too close to the truth.

It was with great suspicion that Rukia learn her brother had taken leave for a visit on short notice, and the direction of his coach led her to question his intentions. She paced about the rooms, so driven by concern and worry that her brother was acting rashly in response to her foolhardy affections. Her imagination offered no solace, providing scenes of confrontation at Longbourn, of accusations thrown at Ichigo and his family; treatment they did not deserve, and she would be the instigator of! She could not abide by it.

Mr. Rotwood had not arrived at the manor for longer than a minute when Rukia rushed towards him, urgently, in demand of answers; driven by worry and frustrated at the prospect of it. Her brother regarded her with the utmost calm, which bordered on disinterest, and replied simply that he had asked Ichigo Kurosaki if he had any intention of proposing marriage.

Her embarrassment was all-encompassing. But before she could collect herself to admonish him for his actions, he calmly related what he had learned: That Ichigo Kurosaki refused to promise he had any intentions of proposing marriage to Rukia. However, he had also refused to promise the contrary.

To this, Rukia was unsure of her response; for it brought about the rapid turns of shock and disbelief as well as the daring prospect of hope. A light feeling she had not beheld in some time, and she took several moments to fully accept it. She repeated the fact and asked her brother to confirm it. He did so without preamble and excused himself to his study.

Rukia struggled to comprehend it all. What could it mean, for Mr. Kurosaki to withhold making such a promise? If he abhorred her as she thought he did, what would he have to gain from it? Surely, if one held such disdain for another, they would not resist confirming a proposal would never take place. And Mr. Kurosaki was not one to say that which he did not mean; nor would he allow falsehoods of his intentions. And he respected the role of an elder brother, besides, and would certainly never abuse such a connection against another family.

She could scarcely breathe evenly, so quickly did excitement overcome her. But she could not allow herself more than that; her mind admonishing her heart that hope was dangerous when it lacked information. With stark realization did she remember Orihime, and her own affections for him. What of her delicate heart? So sensitive her dear friend was in matters of love! Yes, Rukia needed to know for certain what it meant. Her heart demanded it above all; a confirmation one way or the other, as to the state of her affections.

With haste she took a coach for Longbourn. It had grown late into the evening by then, but the house as a whole appeared to be wide awake. They directed her to a sitting room where Mr. Kurosaki appeared distracted and very shocked to see her appear.

"Miss Rotwood…!"

"My brother-" she started, almost out of breath, so quickly did she rush to him. "I know he has called upon you, and that he questioned your intentions towards me." She could not meet his eyes, embarrassment claiming her and her complexion. "I must apologize. I had never meant for my opinions of you to draw you under scrutiny. It would never be my intention to cause you or your family any form of hardship. I humbly ask that you accept my apology."

"Miss Rotwood, please, do no such thing. You have no reason to apologize."

She could not risk looking upon him directly lest hope claim her, or to add solidity to the kind tone he had employed. "There is no reason to deny it; I know it will cause unnecessary concern amongst your family. I am also aware that you said… That you would not deny the prospect of proposing to me."

His reply was not prompt, and she antagonized in silence until it was heard. "I did not deny it."

She regarded him with incredulousness. Her heart beat quickly in her chest, though from excitement or fear, she did not know. "You admit this freely? For what purpose?"

"It should be of no surprise to you. I would not say what I did not mean."

He looked at her directly, her gaze enraptured by his unequivocally; her very existence hanging upon his every word. "What do you convey by this? Do not jest with me-"

"I make no such jest. Shall I speak plainer?"

She made every effort to ignore the small smile of amusement that accompanied his query; to little success. "Yes. Do not taunt me any further."

His smile softened, as did the rest of his look, as his gaze captured her. "I have had a change in opinion of you since you visited this past spring. Is that plain enough for you?"

"A… Change?"

"If I were to describe it, I would no longer consider you with distrust, or coldness towards others. The word 'detestment' no longer comes to mind when I regard you. Your company is no longer avoided; and I have come to look upon our time together without complaint. Your nature is markedly different when amongst those you care about. Even your appearance I now admit to be handsome, your deficiency of height seen as a positive quality. And you care little for rigid rules of society when they are in conflict with your compassion."

She allowed a small snort. "You are truly Shakespeare in your compliments."

He took a single step towards her and gently touched her chin, to tilt her face so she would look upon him, and see that he was smiling. "I speak sincerely; in that my view of you; of your character, of your spirit and heart, has improved in every way; I have realized my feelings are the opposite of what I claimed last spring, and in the deepest ways beyond what I can convey through mere words."

All breath was lost upon her, his declaration fully impressed upon her on its significance, and she lacked the words for reply. This continued only for a moment; her awe turned to indignation within an instant, and she stepped on his foot.

He cried out in shock and pain. "Miss Rotwood-"

"I had thought you to be a man of- of honor and loyalty- yet you will betray Orihime in such a manner? What of her feelings?!" She huffed, so taken aback by his actions, her words tumbling out of her quickly and with little need for thought.

"Miss Inoue?"

"Yes; of course I speak of Miss Inoue. How can she be absent in such a discussion, to learn that your affections have so changed? You have betrayed her most heinously. You expect me to- to accept your declaration despite it?"

"Miss Rotwood-"

"I cannot condone it," she said, her eyes glaring into his, impossible as it was for her to look away. "I cannot believe my opinion of you to be so in error-"

"Please- Allow me to speak!" he said, exasperated and yet amused. She could only stare in reply.

"You draw rash conclusions too easily. I have no inclinations towards Miss Inoue. I never have, and I ask to dissuade the thought from you entirely."

The temptation to believe him wholeheartedly was strong, but Rukia clung to resistance despite it. "You cannot conceal the truth from me- I know she has been calling upon your home, and that the subject of her affections is here at Longbourn."

Mr. Kurosaki watched her, most amused, and smiled knowingly. "Yes. She has taken upon visiting my cousin Uryu for some time now."

Rukia could all but feel the color drain from her face; then, a heartbeat later, the warmth rushing to her cheeks and ears. "She has been calling upon… your cousin? Mr. Ishida?"

His eyes gleamed in amusement. "Yes. She has."

She looked away in the vain hope he could not see her flushed state. "O-oh," she muttered. "I see."

A soberness overtook him as he said, "Have your affections changed?"

It was with the greatest care that she gazed directly upon him, and said, "Yes; they are not the same as they once were."

His flinched; but before disappointment could overcome him, she continued to smile in amusement and say, "My affections have changed; for, despite my most ardent efforts, they have grown beyond my earlier admirations. I fear I could not feel for you differently now, or at any point in the future."

Her meaning was well understood and received with joy. "Then we should be burdened by love together?"

"Indeed," she said with a knowing smile of her own, pleased at his expression of utter contentment; one she wished to see often repeated. "I would want nothing more." So caught by her own happiness that all thought of propriety was for a moment forgotten, and she drew near him in the briefest kiss. His surprise was equally short-lived, and he repeated the action of his own accord, the gentlest and tenderest of kisses.

Fortune smiled upon them. For no sooner did they separate did the doorway stir, opening to reveal the entirety of the Kurosaki family spilling into the room. The young twins cried freely for their new sister as they rushed towards Rukia with open arms. The men offered their own restrained forms of congratulations.

"I had always thought you to be a perfect match," the elder Mr. Kurosaki laughed. He disregarded the look given him by Mr. Ishida, who knew better of the matter.


"You are mistaken in our wedding," Rukia said lightly as she and Mr. Kurosaki continued their walk around the Pemberley grounds. "For it will not be a single couple that is to be joined."

"Oh?"

"There is the match of Miss Orihime and your cousin. It has taken them far too long, and their union is inevitable."

"You believe they harbor feelings for each other? I must wonder if they have moved on."

"They have not. I assure you, after our respective encouragements, Mr. Ishida will ask for her hand, to which she will readily accept." She turned to face him where they stood, open before the sunlight and meadows, but hidden from the eyes of any human soul. "I will recall her party to Netherfield, and it will unfold easily enough." Then, upon further consideration for their hearing, she added, "You must prepare yourself for serenades."

He smiled, finding her confidence pleasing, as he had learned to do. "Oh? I am told their family has a concerning reputation. I thought anyone of right mind would avoid associating with them."

She regarded him with the warmest amusement, beset by a subtle deviousness seen only by a gleam in her eyes. "I admittedly harbor some. I am told his cousin is terribly compassionate and caring; his family unable to escape his affections, and his future wife even moreso hopelessly enamoured."

Mr. Kurosaki allowed himself to tempt fate and indulged in a tender kiss, from which he found no complaint. A lifetime of such moments awaited them; and for Rukia, the knowledge of it, and the prospect of their future together, gave no end to her happiness.