A/N: Hey Gang, hope there's not too much confusion or consternation on the multiple threads. The idea comes from the movie "Sliding Doors", although it's been done many times before. I have no idea if I'll be able to make them end in the same number of chapters, as Green feels a lot shorter, but we'll see. I might have to make an outline, and you all know I'm lazy and don't like to do that kind of prep ;(

If you don't like the multiple threads, you can just skip every other chapter. I should be able to give you at least one chapter per thread every week.

Wade


"If you send me to Pemberley as the obviously unwanted wife, clear to everyone from the lowest scullery maid to the most powerful neighbor, penniless and powerless, a subject of ridicule and derision, expected to just sit and await your pleasure …"

Elizabeth could see the man staring at her more and more intensely, and wondered if the look was presaging unpleasantness, or even violence, sucked up her courage and continued.

"I will not be there when you return!"


GREEN

Darcy stared at her. "What do you mean?"

Elizabeth leaned forward. "It was plain English, sir! You will return to your estate and find it to be lacking a mistress, entirely wife-free, devoid of Darcy females, populated only by servants, and so forth. You will be free to start over at your leisure with a bride of your own choosing – after having me declared suitably dead or having the marriage annulled, – whichever is more convenient."

Darcy wanted to yell, or curse, but instead he just stared, and started rubbing his temples. He knew intellectually that wives occasionally ran away, either from disagreeable husbands or because they found someone that they liked better – but not Darcy wives. The very thought had never occurred to him. Desperately trying to work out why anyone would achieve the status of Mistress of Pemberley, and then throw it all away, he threw out the first thought that came into his head. "How?"

Happy to have escaped the first sentence mostly unscathed, she replied, "I will take whatever resources I can acquire without stealing, and just – leave – vanish – exactly as I tried to do twice since our betrothal."

Completely stunned, Darcy abruptly sat up straight and snapped, "Repeat that!"

Undaunted, Elizabeth said, "You heard me! You need to get it into your thick head that I do not want this marriage any more than you do, and I did everything in my power to prevent it. My family has been browbeating, bribing, and threatening me ever since the night of that infernal ball, and your behavior was no better."

She paused to ensure his attention and continued apace, "My father, in my entire life has been both energetic and lucky simultaneously only once, much to my despair. He found out that I ran at the exact time when a man was in Meryton with the skills to hunt me down and return me to my fate – twice. I am entirely estranged from my family, as every single member thought I made a very nice sacrificial lamb but disdained the honor themselves. If I disappear, I will not even miss most of them."

His head pounding in both pain and confusion, Darcy sat staring at her, trying to form her sentences into some semblance of his understanding of the world.

Elizabeth just sat waiting for him to make his move.

Feeling the weight of the long delay, Darcy finally found the big questions to be entirely too big, so in desperation, he arbitrarily asked, "How far did you make it?"

Elizabeth blew out a breath, happy that he was at least not yelling or cursing. "The first time, Lambton. It is a nice little village, and Mr. Bartlet's bookstore is wonderful. I was trying for Manchester with a valise and £25. I could live simply in a boarding house for a year on that, which would be plenty of time to gain employment as a tutor, governess, or maybe shopkeeper – or worst case, in the mills. Unfortunately, a man named Mr. Baker found out from one my former best friend where I was likely to go and intercepted me at the Rose and Crown."

By that time, Darcy was just shaking his head back and forth and mumbling, so Elizabeth gave him a minute to absorb it.

In confusion, he eventually asked, "Was that Noah Baker?"

Wondering at the turn of the question, and correctly guessing that her husband was just buying time to understand, she replied, "I have no idea. Why do you ask?"

"He is a bit of a legend. He is mostly a thief catcher, but he seems to have some sort of sixth sense. He is very good, according to his reputation."

Thinking the conversation was becoming odder and odder by the moment, Elizabeth just said, "He caught me twice, so his reputation seems to be intact."

Darcy nodded. "Excuse my interruption – pray, continue."

Elizabeth drew a deep breath, thought furiously, and finally said, "The next part is embarrassing, and this from someone accustomed to my mother, so do not take it lightly. My father took all my money, locked me in my room, roped the door shut and nailed the windows. However, he did not think about the hinges, so I removed the pins with a file I found in the garden using an old book as a hammer, took down the door and walked to London. That time all I could take was a bag of apples and onions, so it was not quite as enjoyable."

His mouth hanging open, Darcy simply repeated dumbly. "Walked!... To London!... From Longbourn!... On Foot!"

"Yes, yes – do not look so shocked. It is uncommon for ladies to do anything out of the ordinary, but hardly difficult. It is but 24 miles, and you would hardly be impressed if a servant or farmer made the journey. I already knew how fast I walked because in my first attempt, I walked from Longbourn to this very inn over the course of a single night. That is when I heard that dog, so I was looking at him out of curiosity since I only knew his bark."

Elizabeth paused to gauge his reaction. He seemed to be staring at her in shock, so she continued, "I broke my fast in the common room right on the other side of that door early in the morning and took the first coach North. I can walk about three miles per hour in daylight, slower at night, so it is but eight to twelve hours of walking, which I accomplished in a few nights, and then any number of hours finding my way around London without going into any dangerous areas, which is time consuming."

Furiously rubbing his head, Darcy started to speak, but Elizabeth interrupted him.

"Mr. Darcy, why do you keep rubbing your temples? My story is not that difficult to comprehend, once you wrap your mind around the idea that not every woman in the world wants to be Mistress of Pemberley, nor does any self-respecting woman want a husband who disdains and despises her."

Darcy winced at the accusatory tone, partly because it was unpleasant, and partly because he could not dispute her assertion. To avoid diving into that particular topic, he simply answered her question. "Because my head aches abominably. It has for hours – since before the wedding."

Much to his surprise, his wife reached across the table to touch his forehead, and snapped, "Men!".

Then she got up from her chair and walked to the door, muttering things he could not quite understand, although 'idiot', 'lunkhead', and 'babies' seemed to be lion's share of her tirade.

She walked out the door into the common room and came back a perhaps five minutes later, saying, "Do not take this the wrong way, Mr. Darcy, but you seem to be about as pig-headed as most men of my acquaintance."

Darcy chuckled, but said nothing as she did not appear to be awaiting or expecting a reply. He reckoned she was simply stating a fact that was obvious to anyone, and he had to admit, she probably had a point. His cousin Richard had made the same observation many times, and since said cousin was now an honored guest of the French, perhaps he was right.

Mrs. Darcy said, "I have ordered willow bark tea, which will help the fever and might help the headache. Most apothecaries have poultices that are supposedly good for them, but I find most of them ineffective. I also suggest a bit of brandy with just a touch of laudanum, but not too much. Now is not the time for muddled thinking, and yours seems to be barely adequate when sober."

She tried adding a small chuckle to the jest, but her husband seemed unimpressed, (although he did not seem angry either), so she sighed and said, "It will be here in five minutes or so, along with the meal we ordered. I asked about an apothecary, and he could be here in an hour if you so choose. There are no physicians or surgeons within easy distance."

Darcy nodded. "Thank you! You are very kind. No doubt kinder than I deserve."

Elizabeth thought carefully about what she wanted to say, and finally said, "I agree with the last half of that statement, but I must dispute the first."

Darcy scrunched his head trying to follow the convoluted logic which was beyond him, and Elizabeth clarified. "I am not particularly kind – I am dutiful. While I despise nearly everything my mother has done recently, she did mostly teach me the duties of a wife, although the lion's share of the instruction fell to my Aunt – who hails from Lambton by the way. I would do the same for anyone, but mostly out of habit rather than inclination. I have always served as the nurse for our family."

"All the same, I appreciate your kindness and will dispute your assessment. You did not have to notice, or take action without being asked, but perhaps we need not belabor the point."

"I suppose not," Elizabeth said, wondering what in the world was happening, but then continued, "I believe we are all capable of just about the same things; but we are taught the skills for our positions in life and expected to master them. If I were born as something other than the daughter of a country squire, I would know very different things. As it is, I know how to be the mistress of an estate and taking care of guests is part of that."

"All the same, my behavior has not been very admirable, so I do appreciate it."

Elizabeth just nodded, already fatigued with that topic, and wondering why her husband seemed to be surprised by very ordinary skills. Maybe all the women chasing him all these years lacked them?

Darcy, still curious, and sensibly afraid of many potential topics, decided to just do something practical and less controversial. He carefully asked, "Where were you bound in London? Did you have relatives who might help you make an escape?"

Elizabeth sighed. "You really do not know me at all if you think I would drag my relatives into this mess. There would be consequences for helping me, and I am not entirely certain my uncle would disagree with the prescribed remedy anyway."

"So where were you bound, then – Darcy house?"

"Good Heavens, no! Nothing about your demeanor in our previous meeting had indicated any willingness to compromise, or even listen to sense; and if my father happened to have Mr. Baker available, it would take him all of five minutes to work out that destination. I was certain someone would be watching the house. I would be lucky to make it to the stables, let alone the house."

"So where?"

Elizabeth squeezed her fists a few times for courage. "I thought that I needed someone powerful, who understood that I would be willing to make some sort of substantial accommodation. I, probably foolishly, believed that someone with real status who was made aware that I would accept some alternative arrangement without throwing a fuss could work out a better option."

Frowning fiercely, Darcy asked, "What do you mean, 'alternative arrangement'?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "How should I know? The key point was my willingness to be flexible and do it quietly enough to prevent damage to your reputation. Perhaps he could find me a husband who was less disagreeable, or send me to the Americas or – well, I have no idea, but I had to try."

Darcy was by then just shaking his head in confusion, and finally asked, "An audacious plan, to be sure. I had no idea how badly you did not want to be Mrs. Darcy."

Elizabeth thought for some time, weighing all possibilities, and eventually decided on blunt honesty.

"It is not that I did not want to be Mrs. Darcy – more like I did not want to be your wife; nor did I want both of our entire lives ruined by my mother."

Darcy thought she said the phrase 'your wife' with about the same enthusiasm she would use to describe being shot, and he was starting to get a real appreciation of just how badly this whole affair had been handled. He would need to think about it, so he thought to distract for a few moments to buy time.

"Who was this august personage you tried to approach, if I may ask?"

Elizabeth wondered at the wisdom of answering but thought she had gone this far and there was no turning back.

"I tried to approach your uncle, the Earl of Matlock. I got within hailing distance when Mr. Baker found me and bodily dragged me away, at which point your uncle did – precisely nothing."

Darcy's mouth was then hanging open, finally said, "So that was you! My uncle mentioned it, but I had no idea it was you."

Elizabeth looked carefully. "What did he say. I presume he sees young girls abducted routinely, since he did not react at all."

"Mrs. Darcy, I would like to offer you a bargain, if you are willing. If you will assume the second or third worst thing you can imagine about the members of my family, or on a good day, the fourth; instead of the very worst, then I will do the same for yours."

Elizabeth wondered if he was joking, showing some sense of humor, ridiculing her or making an honest offer; but she saw no point in trying to work it out there and then, so she said, "It is a bargain, Mr. Darcy."

Much to her surprise, he held his hand out vertically. Not quite sure what to do, she shook it like gentlemen did when making an agreement. It felt extremely odd, but nothing about the conversation could pass for ordinary. Both had discarded their gloves, so it was the first time they ever touched skin to skin, but the conversation was so fraught with tension that neither really noticed.

"My uncle told me about the encounter – said that it took him some time to get his wits about him. He is not as quick or as clever as he once was. By the time he thought to send his footmen to investigate, you were gone."

Elizabeth sighed. "I suppose it would not have mattered. Mr. Baker is quite good at his trade. He pretended to be my father and sounded convincing enough that I might have believed it myself. I doubt your uncle's footman would have done more than briefly inconvenience him."

Darcy closed his eyes for a moment, recalling the conversation.

"He mentioned it the same day, so I suppose if I'd known where you were, we could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble by speaking. I asked him to describe you. It was an interesting anecdote in an otherwise dismal month, so I thought it might be amusing."

Curiously, Elizabeth asked, "What did he say?"

Darcy thought about it a moment. "I suppose this would be my opportunity to show that I have a marginally adequate memory. I believe it was something like, 'She was dressed as a lady, but not first circles. She had a very particular shade of brunette hair, quite lovely and somewhat distinctive. Not very tall, and otherwise unremarkable. She was wearing a muslin walking dress that had seen better days, and a man's overcoat. It was most peculiar', or something like that. The overcoat and state of your dress make sense now."

Elizabeth just sighed, and asked, "I suppose it is gratifying that someone finds me somewhat handsome. Let me ask you this – had Mr. Baker been five minutes later, would your uncle have helped me?"

Darcy thought about it a minute. "I doubt he would have been keen to prevent the marriage, as it has some significant impact on his family as well as mine; but I do believe he might have made some steps to improve our beginning. The wagon was already in motion, but he could have given us a better start. It is unfortunate, both that you were interrupted, and that I was so pig‑headed, as you so aptly put it. It was the perfect opportunity to show that one of us had some sense. I certainly did not."

"What do you mean?"

Darcy sighed. "Your story changes everything."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Not really. We are still two people who can barely tolerate each other, bound together for eternity. I suppose, if we work at it, we can avoid fifty years of acrimony, so I imagine that is an improvement, but it is hardly what I had hoped for from marriage."

Darcy asked softly. "What did you hope for?"

Elizabeth stared down at the table, unable to meet his eyes. "I entertained the girlish fantasy of having a husband who loved and respected me, like my aunt and uncle. I know such things seem quite rare, but I had hoped to be one of the lucky ones – but it is too late now, so I suppose I will do as my friend Charlotte suggests – put my childish things away, and try to make the best of a bad situation."

Darcy's answer was interrupted by a knock on the door, which he thought was probably for the best as the next few minutes of conversation might be critically important to any hope of a brighter future.

He called to enter, and a serving maid brought a tray with a cup of tea, a glass of brandy and a small bottle of laudanum, as well as the food, a bottle of wine and pitcher of water. While she was busy setting out the food and drink, Elizabeth put a small dose of laudanum to the brandy and handed it to him. "Drink this and have the willow bark tea with the meal."

Darcy did as direct, and she then said, "Drink a glass of water as well. Sometimes headaches are simply a lack of food or drink, although the fever makes that seem unlikely to be the problem."

Darcy did as she directed while the serving woman curtsied and left the room.

When the door closed, Darcy said, "Whether it is from duty, habit or inclination, or more likely, your caring nature – I do appreciate your efforts, Madam."

Elizabeth said, "Yes, well – let us eat."

The whole conversation had been confusing and unsettling, but at that moment, she felt slightly better about the future, but only slightly.

Darcy nodded, and they both tucked in, thinking they both needed some rest and nourishment before continuing what was likely to be a difficult conversation.