As soon as the coach was in motion, Elizabeth took the £15 Mr. Baker reckoned could be removed from her funds without her father accusing him of negligence and handed it to Molly, saying, "Molly, you are too polite to say it, but you must be aware that I am being returned to my father's authority after an attempted escape. I would like you to have this."

Molly gasped in surprise, never having seen such a large amount of money in one place. "It is too much, ma'am. That is so much I – I – I …"

She ran out of words, so Elizabeth tried to explain.

"It is not quite so much as you think. It is about as much as a scullery maid makes in a year, or my pin money for a quarter. I will lose it regardless, but I am choosing to do something admirable with it, instead of just handing it over to my father. I depend on you to make good use of it."

"I cannot take it, ma'am."

"Yes, my dear – you will. I insist. There are only a few conditions I will attach."

Molly just stared with her mouth open and nodded, so Elizabeth continued.

"First off, this is your money, to do as you will. You will have to keep it secret. It is most definitely not your father's, not your brothers', not your employers, not even your future husband's, unless you wish it so, for your own reasons. My life's choices are being stripped away from me one by one, but I should like you to salvage something from it. If you ask Mr. Bartlet in the bookstore to help you, I am certain he will keep it safe for you and guide you. Use it to pay for reading, sewing or other lessons; better clothing or anything else to make your life better. If you have a sweetheart, or you manage to acquire one you would like to marry, you might make it part of a dowry, but only if it suits you."

Molly just kept shaking her head, but Elizabeth did not have all day to convince her, so she just wrapped the money up in a small bag and forced it into the young girl's hand. As the area was becoming familiar, Elizabeth knew she would be in Meryton in only a few minutes, so she decided to try one more tack.

"Molly, I feel I can trust you. Is my trust misplaced?"

Molly startled. "Of course, not, ma'am. I cannot read, or write, or dress a lady or do anything fancy, but I know right from wrong."

Elizabeth sighed. "That is good, Molly, although I can tell you from recent bitter experience that it is not always easy to tell right from wrong. Sometimes there is no 'right' or 'wrong', but only 'more right' or 'less wrong', but I take your meaning."

Molly looked confused, having not yet encountered any true ambiguity in her life, but Elizabeth thought it was not necessary to explain herself.

Elizabeth finally said, "Are you still set on entering service, Molly?"

"Yes, ma'am. Do you think this money will help?"

Elizabeth thought. "Do not make a big scene with the money. If you suddenly start spending wildly, people will think you stole it, or acquired it through improper means."

Molly nodded. "Yes, ma'am. That much everyone knows if they have any sense."

Elizabeth nodded, thought another moment. "What do you think of working at Pemberley?"

Molly nodded. "It would be good. The master is considered a fair and liberal man, and he does not let his guests or groomsmen trifle with the maids. That is as good as it gets for girls like me."

Elizabeth sighed. "If you can get on there, it would be a good thing. I do not know …"

She thought a few more minutes. "I would give you a recommendation, but I suspect it might hurt you more than help."

Molly startled. "Do you know Mrs. Reynolds?"

"No."

"Mrs. Mason, or Mrs. Sanderson?"

Elizabeth laughed. "No, I do not know a single member of the staff at Pemberley, and I do not know that they would esteem me if I did."

Looking confused, Molly asked, "So how are you connected?"

Elizabeth sighed. "I am not, presently, but if …", she paused a moment, and continued, "… I cannot work out a way to avoid my fate, I will return within a short while as its mistress."

Molly gasped. "You mean I have been traveling all this way with Mrs. Darcy?"

Elizabeth gave a grim chuckle. "Not Mrs. Darcy yet, and ideally, never; but yes, I am betrothed to Mr. Darcy, due to be wed on the twenty-third."

Molly stared. "I never."

The young girl thought about it a moment, then gasped. "I take it running away by yourself before your wedding is not something the quality usually does?"

Elizabeth laughed. "I always hated that phrase, 'the quality'. We are not that, or at least I am not. I am marginally acceptable goods at best," and she sighed. "but you are right, it is not part of the usual betrothal ritual."

Molly tried to imagine what would make someone not be the mistress of Pemberley, but the idea was too foreign for her to even contemplate, let alone think about in depth.

She said, "So, if I mention that I know Mrs. Darcy, you do not know if it will help or hurt?"

"Correct."

Molly thought about it a moment. "I will try to get a position there without mentioning you, Mrs. Darcy."

Elizabeth laughed at the name. "If you do not get it, please let Mr. Bartlet know how I can find you. I suggest you let him take charge of your education. He cannot teach you himself of course, but he can take care of the business of hiring you a tutor. There are always girls who know how to read that want to earn a little coin. He can find them and advise you how much to pay them."

Molly nodded. "I will do as you suggest. If you do come back to Derbyshire, depending on how it goes, I will pretend I do not know you, until you show me otherwise."

Elizabeth nodded. "Probably for the best. We need to say our goodbyes now, Molly."

With a quick hug, and a couple of tears that had to be hastily wiped away, the two separated and soon looked to all the world like lady and maid.


As Elizabeth rode through Meryton, she turned her head to avoid being recognized when she saw her mother with all her sisters entering her Aunt Philips' home. Mr. Baker had not bothered sending an express rider all the way from Lambton since his coach was just about as fast, but he had engaged one that morning so Mr. Bennet would have some advance notice to, as he put it, 'clear the decks'. Elizabeth asked what that meant, but he just shrugged.

As expected, when they pulled into the drive at Longbourn, Mr. Bennet, and only Mr. Bennet was standing on the front porch.

Mr. Baker dismounted and walked over to open the door and offer Elizabeth a hand down. The maid was not to spend any time at Longbourn, as he reckoned the less time she had to acquire or distribute gossip, the better. He had his horse, so the coachman was to turn around and return to Lambton straightaway, stopping to spend the night back in Hatfield.

Bennet said, "I thank you, Mr. Baker. Was she any trouble?"

"No, sir. Quiet as a mouse."

Bennet snorted in response, but handed Baker a small leather bag, which Elizabeth assumed held is fee.

Baker touched his hat. "Good day, Miss Bennet. I wish you good fortune," before mounting his horse and riding off to Meryton. He planned to stay a day or two in the inn. His work was sporadic, and he would have to notify the people that brokered many of his jobs where he was, but there was no particular hurry. A town like this offered him amusements enough so there was little reason to rush off to some other village which was indistinguishable.

Bennet said, "Lizzy, you led us a merry chase. Are you proud of yourself?" with the smirking haughtiness he used whenever ridiculing their neighbors. He did not necessarily expect his daughter to participate, but the attitude was such an engrained part of his personality that he did not even notice when he did it. Even if he did notice, the gentleman would feel no need to correct it.

"No, Father, I am not proud of myself. Had I escaped – then I would be proud of myself. At the moment, I have no room for any emotions besides frustration and hatred."

"Come, come, now, Lizzy. You are overreacting."

"Elizabeth!"

"I beg your pardon."

"You really should beg my pardon literally instead of the hackneyed phrase you bandy about, but I know you will not. I meant, that I will no longer be addressed as 'Lizzy'. Call me 'Elizabeth' or better yet 'Miss Elizabeth' if you expect an answer."

Bennet moved closer and stared at his offspring with what he hoped was a menacing expression. "I am master in this house, and I shall address any member of this household as I choose."

Elizabeth ignored him. "Yes, I understand that, Mr. Bennet. You have laid down how you intend to behave, and I have laid down how I shall. We now understand each other. If you wish a response, you know how to get it."

With a growl, Bennet snapped, "Miss High and Mighty Bennet', since your elder and more sensible sister is not presently here, you will attend me in my library."

Elizabeth nodded, not really paying any attention to the fact that he was offering no time to refresh herself after a coach ride. She did not especially need it since it had only been an hour or so since Hatfield. She preceded him into the library and sat down in a chair facing his desk to prepare for the assault that was sure to come. She idly wondered how much time she would be required to sit in this chair and be yelled at. She assumed today's assault would be unpleasant and imagined another intense session when her letter arrived in a week or so from Lambton, thinking, 'that should be fun'.

"Elizabeth, if you are not proud of your success, at least you can boast of some enormous expense and frustration. Our family's reputation was already suspect, and it has been nearly impossible to keep a lid on this debacle. You cost me well over £200 and several sleepless nights, so I suppose you can be proud of that."

"Let us dispense with any discussion of my pride, as I see little point, Mr. Bennet, and £200 is slightly less than the amount just Jane and Lydia alone overspend their allowances every year. It will hardly cripple you."

Losing his temper, Bennet slammed his hand down on his desk. "Well then, shall we move onto selfishness. Do you have any idea of what effect your actions would have on your sisters' lives if you succeeded?"

Not to be out-angered, Elizabeth slapped her own hand down, and yelled, "It would have not the slightest effect, other than causing you some minor inconvenience."

"You really think they will find good husbands with a fallen sister?"

Elizabeth gasped, and yelled, "Fallen!", then sat with fists curled hard enough for her nails to dig into her palm. "Fallen? I cannot believe you would use such a term even in private. Do you want to know your real issue?"

Bennet matched her shout for shout, yelling, "At the moment, it is a stubborn and selfish daughter!"

Leaning forward in her chair, Elizabeth growled. "You just love your adjectives. Well, you are welcome to use any or all of 'selfish', 'stubborn', 'willful', 'obstinate', 'disobedient', 'pig-headed' or any of the other terms you love to use on any female who does not share enough attributes with a sheep; but I would kindly request you refrain from insinuating that I am 'stupid' or that I have 'no understanding' of the world. I understand it perfectly. Once again …"

Feeling a need for motion, she jumped up from her chair, grabbed a pencil that was laying on the desk and marched over to a large map of England on the wall. The map is somewhat expensive, but otherwise not much to look at, and she needed something to burn her anger out on.

While Bennet stared in horror, she drew a small circle the size of her thumb, and then rapidly drew another about a foot and a half in diameter.

Bennet yelled, "What are you doing", and started to get up from his chair, but Elizabeth spun around, dropped the pencil on the floor, and replied with her finger on the smaller circle.

"The problem, Mr. Bennet, is that you are lazy. This is the circle where you allow your daughters to look for husbands."

The small circle basically went around Meryton, and included Netherfield and the outlying estates, but stopped well short of Hatfield and the other villages that were within a dozen miles.

She pointed at the larger circle that went through Cambridge, Oxford, Brighton and Kent, with London near its center. Somewhat satisfied with the result, she said, "This is the range you could afford to search but are too lazy. You have connections from Cambridge you could have kept up. You have connections through Uncle Gardiner to dozens or hundreds of families in town. You have connections through Uncle Philips business to men in Brighton and even some in town. You know, or could if you were not so lazy, all the tradesmen in Meryton, and you could easily have them point out their own connections. There are a hundred ways you could be promoting your children that would be more effective than sitting around waiting to see if the only vacant estate in the neighborhood gets leased by a suitable man who happens to be single and likes one of your daughters. There are millions of people in this area, and it is all within a one‑day carriage ride. My 'reputation' would be forgotten within the year, and if not, it would not extend beyond Hatfield."

"You forget that your reputation will be tied to Mr. Darcy's reputation, which has a much longer reach than your own."

"Mr. Darcy dug his own grave."

By that point, the two were shouting at each other. Mr. Bennet replied, "None of this changes the material fact that Both of you are compromised, whether you deserve to be or not. I can assure you that if there was a way to wiggle out of it, he would not have been here offering for you. Why do you think it took him a week to return?"

"That is not my problem!"

By then, Bennet had exhausted his meager store of energy. "Go to your room until you can be reasonable, Miss Bennet. It goes without saying that you will not leave the house unaccompanied – nay, you will not leave the house at all unless you are accompanied by Nathaniel or myself. You will not likely escape either of us. I should also mention that your room will be locked at night."

Elizabeth just turned without a word and stomped from the room, up her stairs and into her bedroom. She saw Jane's bed and decided she just could not stand another night in her sister's company, since she hardly recognized her anyway. With a huff, she took the valise she already had, got a slightly bigger trunk, threw the rest of her clothing into it, and moved it all down the hall into the guest room, most recently occupied by Mr. Collins.

She thought it entirely appropriate that the room was reserved for the stupidest people in the house.