A/N: Lots of interesting reviews so far. There are a tremendous number of good ideas in there. You could write a dozen stories by simply mining the reviews for plot bunnies. Interestingly enough, the level of hate for Red Darcy is really‑really strong. I think I could probably have him kidnapped by pirates, tortured for six months, sold into slavery for twenty years and finally burned at the stake and I'd get some thumbs up. Not gonna do that, but it would be fun ;)

It does however make me think I should go back and write the split a bit more clearly, because Red Darcy and Green Darcy are the same person. The only difference between the two storylines in the beginning is that Red Darcy's coachman got his coach moving faster. He was just far enough away to not hear the "Fair Warning" shout, and everything diverged from there. Food for thought. I rarely try to explain the story thinking it should explain itself, but I don't think that part was clear enough. I'll edit it so the people who are not reading the 'bleeding edge without a filter' version won't be confused. I'll introduce some event to delay Green Darcy's coach by 30 seconds.

On a Sausage Making note (don't read if you hate spoilerish things), I have officially abandoned all pretensions of guessing at story length. I'm actively considering two different strategies on Red, one of which would be a bit compressed over the other. They are both the same story (which is almost identical to my original idea), but different ways of telling it. The way I have it in my head is probably too long. Green is even more ambiguous. I only had a vague idea when I made the split, but all of you have very helpfully given me at least a dozen good ideas, so I'm working my way to a storyline that will work, but I only have the next couple chapters worked out so far.

A belated credit to Gianna Thomas. The idea for £40 pin money comes from Darcy vs. Bingley. In fact, pretty much everything Dastardly Red Darcy did to Lizzy is close to something he threatened in that book.

I've had a couple of people ask how much that £40 of pin money really was in that time, and I have to say it depends hugely on context. It would be enough to be adequate to her needs, but so low as to be a slap in the face for Mrs. Darcy. Based on some comments near the end of Canon, it is generally believed the Bennet girls each had pin money of £50. Imagine trying to dress like Caroline Bingley on less money than Elizabeth Bennet, and you get the idea.

Wade


While she was busy setting out the food and drink, Elizabeth put a small dose of laudanum to the brandy, 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.

Reflections - Green


GREEN

Elizabeth ate with more appetite than she might have expected, given the day's anxiety level, while Darcy started out well, but after a few bites, slowed down and mostly picked at his food. She noticed that he did not seem to dislike it, but instead, he just did not seem to be very hungry.

Darcy said, "I remember you once telling Hurst you preferred a plain dish to a ragout, which I think came close to giving him apoplexy. Do you generally prefer simpler fare, or did you do that just to discompose him?"

Elizabeth recognized what seemed to be a weak, but notable attempt at humor, so decided it would not hurt to join. "Why would I bother injuring poor Mr. Hurst when I had a more suitable victim for my barbs right down the table."

Getting into the spirit, he said, "Interesting – although, to be fair, I rarely noticed you sheathing your claws at Miss Bingley."

Elizabeth could not help herself, so she laughed a little bit, and Darcy laughed along with her. To the best of her knowledge, they had never laughed at anything together – ever.

Feeling slightly better, she said, "To give you a serious answer, which, by the way, I never gave you before, I actually prefer simpler food. If you fed me whatever your servants eat at Pemberley, I would be quite content. I did not know much about Mr. Hurst at the time, so even if I did want to tweak his nose, I would have had no idea how to go about it."

"After you knew him better, what would you have done?" Darcy asked, more out of desperation to delay the next part of the conversation than anything else.

"Watered down the brandy."

Darcy chuckled, but had to admit it was in fact the correct answer. He could not, however credit his wife with any excessive praise for her observational skills on that front since it was obvious.

"Is your head better, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy had wondered if her concern would last, and it seemed to be holding so far. "It is, thank you. To be honest, I feel like I may be somewhat ill."

"Your fever would suggest so. The usual causes of aches, such as over-indulging in drink, or arguing with your wife, do not usually produce that symptom."

"No, I suppose not. If it will set your mind at ease, I did resist the temptation to overindulge last night."

Elizabeth nodded, happy with that response. While Mr. Darcy was certainly a disagreeable man, he at least did not seem, in her limited experience, to be an intemperate man. She thought she might add that to her tiny but not empty list of positive attributes for her husband. If she wanted any hope of success in their marriage, (and she was, at that point, not entirely certain she did), she would have to find a few more and cling to them.

Feeling afraid to move forward, but tired of being stuck in the middle, she somewhat timidly asked, "Shall we finish our conversation, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy nodded, stood up from the table, and offered to pull her chair back. "Perhaps we will be more comfortable on the chairs."

Elizabeth was slightly pleased by the small gallantry, while Darcy thought he was at long last meeting the absolute minimum requirements for the actions of a gentleman. Neither party realized quite how low the other's expectations were, and how very little it would take to improve them.

Elizabeth chose a chair that would allow her husband to sit facing her – not too close, mind you. He assisted her, which was obviously unnecessary, but appreciated nonetheless before taking his own seat.

They had both discarded their headwear upon entry to the parlor, and Elizabeth, somewhat incongruously said, "I suppose I should be wearing a mobcap now. I have one in my trunk that my aunt bought for me. I confess, it will feel odd wearing it indoors, but I suppose I will accustom myself to it just like other wives have."

"I suppose so. It seems odd. Women are expected to wear a ring and change your clothing when you get married, but a married man is indistinguishable from a single one."

"I suppose so. I never thought about it. Most married men I know are old enough that it is not that difficult to work out. Nearly every married person I know has been married so long that it is difficult to even imagine them as youths. It just strains the imagination."

"Yes, I can see that. I believe a part of the difference between men and women is the men tend to keep their social circle, while the women join their husband's. I know quite a number of young men who have married, though none who have done so in quite this manner."

Elizabeth let the quip about their unusual circumstances pass. "I think marriage is a much bigger adjustment for women in general. We leave our father's house to join our husband's, usually take up new duties and responsibilities, start preparing our minds for children, learn all our new relatives and duties, and so forth. A gentleman hardly notices any change at all, aside from having to speak to his wife occasionally."

"Is that all you expect of your husband – to pay the bills and speak to you occasionally?"

Elizabeth wondered if he was being facetious or asking seriously, but she eventually decided that giving him the benefit of the doubt would do no harm.

"It is all I expect, but not all I had hoped for?"

"What had you hoped for?"

"It will sound like a silly girlish fantasy, but I had hoped to have a husband I admired and respected at a minimum, and I really hoped I had one that I loved."

Darcy looked very pensive, while thinking furiously, and finally said, "And you think that is impossible with me?"

Elizabeth sat and stared at him for quite some time, while he waited patiently.

She finally said, "I confess, Mr. Darcy that I have been trying to sketch your character ever since that first night when you disparaged both my appearance and my consequence before you even met me. My thoughts have encompassed every interaction from the moment you walked into that assembly hall, to all appearances disparaging all who met your eye, through your abominable behavior between the compromise and the wedding, right up to the moment I yelled 'Fair Warning'."

She paused a moment, finding herself fidgeting to a level that even Lydia would find bothersome, let alone what Aunt Gardiner would allow in her presence. She found herself momentarily distracted by a loose cuticle that seemed the worst injury in the world, so naturally, she grabbed it and yanked it off. This had the advantage of getting rid of the infuriating thing, but the price of having a painfully bleeding finger hardly seemed like much of an improvement – especially when she had to immediately wrap it in a serviette or risk bleeding all over her white wedding dress.

Finally, injury dealt with, she looked over at her husband.

"To be honest, Mr. Darcy, I have yet to see a single piece of evidence in nearly three months of acquaintance that makes me believe any of the three are possible, let alone all of them."

Darcy stared at her, not knowing what to say, while slowly grinding his teeth to the point where his jaw would join the rest of his head in pain before long.

He finally sighed, his shoulders sagging in distress, and asked, "Do you see no hope at all?"

Elizabeth thought very long and hard about how to answer that. It was an important question, asked in what she thought was a very respectful, and perhaps even hopeful tone.

She finally said, "Where there is life, there is hope, Mr. Darcy. I said I saw no evidence, but neither have I any proof that the situation is irredeemable. I suppose I find myself pessimistic, but not desperate yet. I have no reason to hope aside from my natural affinity towards optimism, but I still would like to think there is some."

What she really wished for was some reduction in ambiguity, since she was apparently both pessimistic and hopeful all in the same breath.

Both sat in silence, staring at each other, and finally Elizabeth added, "I took a big risk yelling out to you, Mr. Darcy, and an even greater one telling you my thoughts and plans. I could have made my escape from Pemberley at my leisure, and I would have felt entirely justified in doing so. You would not have been aware of my departure until you returned from whatever it is you are doing. By staying here, I put myself in your power, at least for the moment. I do not pretend to understand all of my motives, but I do not suppose I would have done that without feeling some small shred of hope."

Elizabeth expected an explosion, but instead, Darcy asked, "You would have treated your vows so lightly?"

Much to her surprise, Elizabeth felt more sad than angry. On the one hand, she felt like screaming at his hypocrisy, but on the other hand, she just did not have the energy to rail at him; nor did she think she had the wherewithal to argue. Instead, she answered honestly.

"Not lightly, no. I do not take them lightly, but since the whole thing was coerced, I would not consider them cast in stone either. I believe I would have given it a fair try at Pemberley. I would have found some way to mitigate the worst of the circumstances and done my best. If I found the situation not entirely hateful, I might have stayed to see what happened. I suppose it would all depend on how I was received by your staff and visitors; how much you told them, and how they reacted. If you had been careful in your conversations, things might have worked out. If you had been indiscreet, it would have been a much worse beginning. I have no idea how the middle or the end would look."

She paused thoughtfully, wondering how in the world she was saying such downright disagreeable things, which could absolutely trigger whatever wild temper her husband had, with such calmness. At some points she thought she should be showing her heritage from her mother more clearly, but for the moment, she was as calm as ice.

She looked at him carefully. "While we are on the subject, do not pretend that I was the only one disregarding vows, Mr. Darcy. You promised to love, honor, comfort, and so forth. I cannot honestly say that I saw the slightest hint of any of those. I did not even see the most basic duties of a gentleman. When you finished the long argument with my father, you could not even stop to discuss it with me, even for a minute. You did not even ask for my hand. A man should at least minimally defend the women in his life, and after that display, I had no reason to think you would do so. Nothing that has happened since then has improved my opinion."

Darcy sat thoughtfully for a moment. "You are correct. I cannot defend myself. I suppose I could try, but disguise is my abhorrence. There is no way to see my actions in a good light and trying to shift the blame would only show me to be even less of a gentleman."

He sank back into thoughtfulness, so Elizabeth said, "I will at least give you that, Mr. Darcy. You are a proud man, and not a very communicative person; but I have at least never observed you lying. You could have improved our situation immeasurably with a few little courtesies, which are small lies, but you refrained from that. I do not know if you were just being honest, or if you were punishing me, but at least it was – accurate."

Darcy sighed. "I do apologize for my unkind words, and I will promise in future to try to be more polite, but I still am mostly honest, and it is not a habit I wish to dispose of."

"Of course not! There are lies and there are lies, Mr. Darcy. Most of the time, the truth is better, but sometimes – well, sometimes a little politeness can go a long way."

Darcy nodded in agreement. "Yes, I suspect my tutor would like to come back from the grave and teach me the things I seem to have missed. I will offer my sincere apologies," and then he chuckled, "with complete honesty."