A/N: Boy, I'm having tremendous fun with all the guessing. I'm reminded of the classic movie "Big" (1988) where Tom Hanks' character suggests a comic book where the readers can pick a different storyline and see what happens. There have been lots and lots of suggestions that are all great, so keep them coming. I think we all enjoy the guessing. Maybe someday I'll have a contest where I write a few chapters, and then my readers must write the next ones.

At any rate, nobody has really guessed what's going to happen (or even close). Most of the Darcy POV stuff I've added was not in the original story plan, and I have chopped this part of the story down by a chapter or two, because it was a bit too much angst and suffering (of course, there's still quite a bit to go), and added some Darcy stuff.

These chapters are running longish, so this one is about double my average size.

Wade

[Update – when I wrote this, I expected about a dozen more chapters. You can tell I overshot the mark by quite a bit.]


Thu, Dec 17, 1811 – Darcy House, London
Musical Accompaniment: Something That We Do Clint Black
(don't listen til after the chapter)


"Bingley, Anne – welcome!"

"Darcy, good to see you, old man."

"Fitzwilliam, what does the man who won the fight look like?"

Darcy raised his eyebrows in surprise at the quip, so Anne continued, "Are you surprised a sense of humor survived my mother's upbringing?"

Darcy chuckled. "I am surprised anything good survived at Rosings. Rats and cockroaches: yes – sense of humor: no."

Much to his surprise, Anne laughed openly. It was the first time she had seen her do that in some time, so he just looked at her in astonishment.

Anne continued, "You know how it was, Fitzwilliam. Mother was like a jackal, just sitting there waiting for you to make a mistake. You could just as well have ended up obliged to me as to Miss Bennet – who I pity, by the way."

Darcy growled. "Pity? – Pity?"

Anne was quite unperturbed. After five and twenty years of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, nothing Fitzwilliam Darcy could say was likely to make her even blink, let alone gasp. She continued, "Yes, pity. I can tell you from bitter experience that no amount of money or fine houses makes up for a disagreeable life companion."

Darcy growled. "She should have thought of that before she compromised me."

Bingley asked, "Are you certain she was involved, Darcy? Her mother I would have no trouble believing. Her father would just go along with whatever happened around him. Her sisters – well, I would not have thought it of the eldest, but the rest of them seemed game enough – but Miss Elizabeth?"

Darcy watched Bingley flinch slightly at the mention of the eldest, but now was probably not the time to delve into that particular conversation. He had a strict limit of one disagreeable subject per minute. Instead he asked, "Let us examine the idea critically, shall we. You observed Miss Elizabeth over, what was it, six weeks?"

Bingley thought a moment. "That seems right. We arrived on Michaelmas, the 29th of September, and started receiving visits from the neighborhood."

"You mean the vendors, trying to get first crack at displaying their wares."

Bingley frowned at the level of cynicism he was seeing from his friend, although Darcy was always such a serious fellow it was not as abrupt of a change as it would be for someone more lighthearted.

Bingley replied, "Let us see – I think that first assembly was the 15th of October. It was a Monday, and you were in fine fettle."

"Yes, and you were insufferably chirpy and manipulative. Did you not try to get me to dance with Miss Elizabeth?"

Bingley might have entirely forgotten the initial slight, since Darcy did something like that about once a quarter, so he thought back, and finally said, "Yes, I think you are right. I wonder if she heard you?"

Anne asked, "What did you say, Fitzwilliam?"

Much to Darcy's surprise, Bingley took his new wife's (for all of a whole week) hand and kissed it without any apparent embarrassment.

"Oh, Anne. I would ordinarily preface it by saying 'you will not believe this', but having known this gentleman man and boy, I imagine you will without effort."

Anne giggled, which made Darcy's head swim a bit. "Pray tell, what did the dragon utter?"

Bingley looked to Darcy to see if he felt like repeating, but he just said, "It is your story, Bingley. Have at it."

Bingley laughed. "I tried to get him to dance, since we were attending – well, you know – a ball. Said something about 'not standing about in this stupid manner'."

Darcy was surprised to see Anne laugh gaily, which made him momentarily quite happy. It was the first bit of levity he had experienced since the Netherfield Ball, and he suspected, maybe the last.

Bingley continued, "Darcy looked right at her – I hoped she could not hear, and said …"

With that, Bingley jumped up, stood up as tall as he could, pushed his chest out several inches, turned his nose in the air so far he might be mistaken for his younger sister, and said in an artificially low, rumbling voice. "She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."

Anne gasped, then to Darcy's surprise, she laughed again. "He did not!"

Bingley laughed, kissed his wife's hand again, which surprised Darcy to no end. "I swear it on my life, my love."

Anne was just shaking her head. "Do you think she heard you?"

Both looked to Darcy, who shrugged and said, "I have no way to know, but I suspect not. Any lady who did hear that would have reacted differently."

Bingley nodded, unable to find any flaw in the logic.

Darcy asked, "So back to the question of whether she was involved in my downfall or not. What is your opinion?"

"I have wondered how you were found in that corner."

Darcy frowned, stared at the floor. "She goaded me into it, although I must say the venue was my own fault. I actually led her there, but I was not thinking straight."

"How so?" Bingley asked, at the same time Anne said, "How did she 'goad' you Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy sat back in his chair and decided to think about the question. He waved to a brandy decanter, and Bingley poured brandy for the two of them, and a glass of sherry for his wife.

At length, Darcy said, "Bingley, in the scant attention you were paying to Miss Elizabeth, how would you describe her interactions with me?"

Bingley took his turn thinking deeply about the response, finally saying, "She is an unconventional woman, much smarter than most, so not so easy to read, but all in all I would say – well …"

He paused a moment. "Actually, I think she was flirting with you. If she hated you, she would have avoided you. Any sensible person would. In fact, I would if I could get away with it. If she liked you, she would have been nicer to you. She was always teasing and challenging you though, which makes me think …"

He paused, and Darcy just waited for him to continue.

"Let us make two hypotheses and give it the old Platonic Debate treatment. Let us suppose she heard that first slight and disliked you. What would she do?"

"Avoid me. She is very social, always in demand. She could have ignored me altogether with nary a thought for months or years at a time."

"My thinking exactly! Now you will have to admit that she is cleverer than the average huntress, agreed?"

Darcy nodded.

"Now let us suppose that both her and her sister were hunting husbands – not that I think there is anything wrong with that, so long as they do not resort to cunning."

Darcy nodded. "Their father's estate is entailed on your new rector – who you need to put on a tight leash, by the way. Mr. Bennet has wasted most of his income and has no dowries at all. Think of it, Cousins. Pemberley's new mistress brings not a single new connection, and most of those she does have are in trade. For a dowry, one thousand pounds in the four per cents, which will not be hers till after her mother's decease, is all that she will ever be entitled to."

Bingley gasped, glad he had avoided the Bennet trap, more by luck than skill. "Yes, I will keep an eye on him – but the dowry – that makes no sense. Longbourn's income must be £2,000 per annum. How is it possible that nothing has been set aside for their betterment? A few hundred a year in the four percents would have done wonders."

"You tell me!"

Bingley shook his head in dismay. "Well – back to the point. What did the Bennet sisters know about us, that could be discerned easily?"

Darcy thought about it a while. "They could both observe your sister applying the standard tonnish arts and allurements without effect. She is about as subtle as a blacksmith."

Bingley nodded. "Yes, it would be obvious to a keen studier of character, as Miss Elizabeth claims to be. Besides that, simple arithmetic would suggest if we have been friends for years, and my sister is no closer to being Mrs. Darcy than she is to being Queen of England. It is no great stretch to imagine that strategy is ineffective. I doubt the eldest Miss Bennet would have worked that out, but Miss Elizabeth certainly would have."

"Agreed. So, if she hated me, she would avoid me. If she liked me, she would be nicer to me. If she was looking for a husband, she would spend her time sharpening her knives, trying out different tactics to see what works and what does not. She was in a position of extreme weakness, so would have to work out some sort of leverage."

Anne said, "Fitzwilliam Darcy, that is the most unforgiving and cynical speech I have ever heard, and this is someone raised by Catherine de Bourgh."

Darcy looked at her, and blandly asked, "Are you disputing my facts or my conclusions, Mrs. Bingley?"

Anne thought a moment. "I do not know the ladies in question, so I cannot dispute it. However, I am of the opinion that the best expert on the capabilities of a pack of horses and hounds is a fox – at least while it's alive, so I suppose I must defer to your judgment."

Both gentlemen chuckled and took another sip of brandy.

Anne said, "I cannot say I have spent that much time in society as the two of you, but I have been around. I cannot say that your description of your betrothed …"

Anne watched Darcy carefully and saw him grimace, but not with quite the expression she expected.

She paused a moment, shook her head in confusion, decided to circle back later. "… I cannot say she is as you describe, but I can say she could be. My new sister in law makes a good case in point."

Darcy growled. "I am certain."

"Return to my husband's question. How did you end up in such a vulnerable place? Think!"

"Why?" Darcy growled. "They won Anne. I am obliged. The game is over. I lost."

Anne frowned. "Fitzwilliam, do you mind if I visit Pemberley. I have not been there for years."

Darcy blinked at the question. "You know you are always welcome, Anne. You always have been, and always will be. Why bring it up now though?"

"I want to go to the graveyard and see if I can raise the spirits of your father, or some of your other ancestors, or perhaps read some of their journals. I am curious to see at what point Darcy men became whiney quitters."

Darcy snapped back up in his seat, and started to answer sharply, but Anne did not flinch or look away, and he was left feeling foolish.

Anne gently said, "Will, whether she trapped you or not – whether she was in on the scheme or not – whether she deserves it or not – whether she is basically a good person in a desperate position, a fortune hunting vulture, or as much a victim as you – none of that matters. In less than a week, she will be your wife! You will begin a journey that will last forty or fifty years. Do you plan on spending the whole time in acrimony?"

Darcy was astounded at the suggestion, but it was just too much. The stress and strain of carrying the entire family's defects on his own shoulders, plus the strain of making sure his estate was safe and secure for the next half‑year, including making certain his new wife was under control and not attempting to bankrupt him; plus the thought of the sea voyage necessary to get where he was going, which was coincidentally in the middle of a war, was wearing him down to nothing.

Anne and Bingley waited patiently, and Darcy noticed they both kept rubbing each other's hands and arms affectionately, but subtly, and wondered at the speed of their attachment.

Finally, he said, "No, we cannot exist the entire time in acrimony. I – well, sooner or later, I will have to swallow my pride and find a way to coexist with the woman."

Neither Bingley nor Anne liked the tone he applied to 'the woman', but they both thought there was little point in trying to sway Darcy just yet. He would get along with his wife or he would make them both miserable, but it seemed unlikely he was quite ready to listen to reason. Bingley decided he would try to intercede about the time Darcy came back to England. He even thought about visiting Mrs. Darcy during Darcy's absence, but that seemed like a suicide mission that he wanted no part of. With two estates under his control when he had exactly eight weeks of instruction on estate management in his life, the gentleman decided he had his own issues to deal with.

Suddenly remembering the earlier confusing look, Anne said, "Fitzwilliam, you still have not told us how you ended up in that position."

Darcy nodded. "I asked her to dance …"

Anne gasped, and started to speak, but Darcy cut her off, saying, "Yes, yes, yes, I know. I stuck my own foot into the bear trap, and so on and so forth. I did ask her to dance, and …"

Anne and Bingley leaned forward expectantly, so Darcy sighed. "… and we quarreled. Wickham was there spreading his poison, and Miss Elizabeth asked me about him. She …"

He stopped and thought about it. "I am too close to it to know if she was goading me, genuinely credulous of his story, curious or …"

He shook his head. "I suppose I will just never know, but I am convinced she was working me. She was attacking my honor, at my weakest point. I gently took her arm and pulled her over to a perfectly public but quiet corner to set her straight and – well, the rest is history. Her mother came along right on schedule, then her father. She had all night to maneuver me somewhere vulnerable, and they definitely struck while the iron was hot."

Anne shook nervously at the strain in his voice, but seeing little profit in discussing the actual compromise, she gently asked, "Why did you ask her to dance, Will? You almost never do that?"

Darcy looked chagrinned. "Whatever arts and allurements she may or may not have been practicing were working, at least somewhat. I must admit that I was enjoying a mild flirtation with her, a bit of an infatuation. I thought to indulge myself for once, since I was planning to leave within the week."

Anne leaned back, thinking that her cousin was the absolute, undisputed king of self‑delusion, so she had some slim hope that he might do the right thing, after he had exhausted all other possibilities – or at least, he might have, before the Bennets dug their own hole. She thought she might speculate on the matter later. Darcy would obviously never have considered Miss Bennet seriously, no matter how strong his flirtation and infatuation had been, so the Bennets had played the hand as well as they could.

Shaking herself loose from her thoughts, Anne said, "Fitzwilliam, you will have to either live with her or put her aside and make other arrangements."

Darcy shook his head. "I will never do that, Anne."

She nodded, happy to see that there was some honor left in her family. It was too little and too late, but they would have to take what they could get.

Darcy heaved a great sigh, and continued, "She will be my wife, and she will birth my heir. Beyond that – well – I will do my best, I suppose.

Anne said, "You will have to get along with her. I can tell you from experience you do not want to spend decades with a discontented partner in life. Maybe – well – perhaps – just – try to be kind to her and see where that gets you."

Darcy nodded. "The wedding is going to be acrimonious. I cannot imagine I will be in a mood for that."

"Good mood or not, Will, that first day will set the tone for your entire life. You need to make an effort – a serious effort."

Darcy nodded. "I will do my best, Anne."

They all sat in silence listening to the fire crackle for a few minutes, and Darcy sat up, thumped the table a bit. "Enough!"

The Bingleys startled a bit, and Darcy asked, "Explain to me how a simple introduction ended up with a marriage in less than a fortnight? Did you set your own traps, Anne?"

Anne and Bingley just laughed. "No, not as such. Can I presume you are not stupid – well actually, that is optimistic, since I have seen rocks that could have avoided Miss Elizabeth? Can I at presume you at least worked out the mutual advantageousness of this match, in terms of situation, in terms of fortune, in terms of synchronicity of goals and personalities?"

Darcy laughed. "Yes – I explained that in some detail to your mother. I cannot say it was taken well."

Anne snorted. "She has made my life miserable long enough. It is my turn."

Darcy looked startled, and Anne quickly said, "I do not mean I will make her miserable. On the contrary, we are not shipping her off to the Colonies, or the Dower House, or anywhere unpleasant. We are simply wresting control of the estate from her. She will keep her old room, and her favorite sycophants – err – servants, and spend much of her time as she did before. I just will not allow her to bankrupt my birthright."

Darcy nodded. "It is a wonder I did not see it before, but it seems like you two are happy, and surprisingly affectionate. How did that come about?"

Anne said, "What were we to do, Fitzwilliam? Dance at an assembly, then have Charles call for tea, and take walks in the garden and so forth for three months before he worked up his nerve?"

Darcy sighed. "It sounds impossible. Is it a practical match?"

Darcy did not actually have any objection to a practical match if that was what they had decided. Such things were done all the time, and he just wished he had the sense to make one himself, but he had been ridiculously holding out for love and affection – more the fool, him.

Anne gave her new husband a look that belied the entire idea of practicality. "Perhaps there is just a little of that, but there is more than enough affection to go around, and it grows every day. I can only hope you manage to pull your head out of your arse long enough to find it before it's too late."

Darcy gasped at the language, but then laughed. It had been years since he had laughed with his cousin, and he never knew how much he missed it. His aunt had a lot to answer for.

Bingley said, "I have to admit something, Darcy. Anne and I are in love – would you not agree, my wife?"

Anne surprised Darcy by jumping to the edge of the chair she was sitting in, pulling her husband over, and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Bingley continued, "I must admit that I came to Rosings with a bit of a bitter and cynical spirit. I really thought the eldest Bennet sister was true, and I basically gave up on love altogether."

"Understandable enough. I can sympathize."

Bingley smiled. "By pure good fortune, I saw my favorite uncle in town. He seldom leaves Scarborough, but there he was, right when I needed him."

Darcy felt just a bit jealous that Bingley had a favorite uncle. His uncle the Earl was someone that he could go to for practical advice, but nobody had ever called him a 'favorite uncle' by any stretch of the imagination, and half of his advice was terrible.

Bingley continued, "He sat me down and set me straight. I will never forget his advice."

Darcy waited patiently.

Bingley continued, "He told me, 'love isn't something that we find, or something that we have, or something that we are – it's something that we do'. He said that all of us young bucks are hopelessly confused. We experience infatuation, affection, excitement, lust …"

He blushed and glanced at Anne, who surprised both men by saying, "Do not discount the value of lust, Husband."

Darcy wanted to go find a rock and crawl under it, but Anne just laughed and told Bingley to continue.

Her husband chuckled. "I can assure you that I did not discuss that subject with my uncle in any depth. He is into his eightieth summer."

"And?"

"He said that love is what you do, day after day, week after week, month after month. You show and experience love with a hundred good and bad things both you and your spouse do. All the songs, and books, and rumors deal with a couple of months out of a thirty or forty year experience. He said so long as you do not start out too badly, that if two people are of good character, and hold a bit of kindness in their hearts, love will come along naturally – so long as you do not strangle it at birth."

Darcy stared at his friend, wondering if life could possibly be that simple.

Anne said, "It is not that simple, Fitzwilliam. Charles and I have already had a couple of vicious rows …"

Darcy looked at his amiable friend in complete surprise, but Anne continued.

"… but we made up, and we have quite decided that we will just be in love."

Darcy asked, "Is it that simple?"

"No, it is not. As our uncle said, it is a long process that plays out over years. Charles and I are in the first few weeks."

Darcy nodded a few times.

"My uncle said he has seen everything from couples who could barely stand each other to couples that could not bear to sleep a night apart after forty years. Unfortunately, there are more of the former than the latter."

"Do you think that applies in my situation?"

Both Bingleys thought a few minutes, and then Charles answered for them.

"It is hard to say, Darcy. Anne and I are so different that we fit together like two adjacent puzzle pieces. You and Miss Elizabeth …"

Darcy finished the thought for him, saying emphatically, "… are not that."

Bingley said, "Perhaps you can still salvage it, Darcy. You have to try."

He sighed. "I will, but …", and he paused and said, "… after I return from France."

Bingley said, "Do not wait too long Darcy. Sometimes the ship sails without you."