Elizabeth

Dawn broke and despite having been up until the wee hours, Elizabeth always rose with the sun. Knowing no one else would be up yet, she determined to dress quickly and make her way to Oakham Mount. However, this morning something felt... different. It took her a moment to realize she was not in her room. "Oh my goodness! Where am I? How did I get here?" Panicked, she wanted to scream but quickly thought better of it. What if she had been kidnapped? She didn't want to draw attention to herself. Quietly rising from the very plush bed - far better than her's at home - she decided to look around.

The room was very masculine, mostly dark wood paneling and forest green linens of very high quality. Then she saw them, men's clothing laid out as if the owner were to come in any moment to dress. She spun around to make sure she was alone. It would not do to be in a man's room alone, much less in only her night shift. 'Wait? This is not my night shift, this is a man's nightshirt. Why am I in men's clothing. Her head was pounding. What was going on? Did I drink too much wine last night? I only had one glass of wine with dinner. Perhaps someone spiked the punch?'

Deciding that she needed more sleep, Elizabeth crawled back into the large, exquisite bed. Reaching for the covers to pull over her head, she stopped. Her hands looked wrong, manly even. She felt her face... stubble. Her hair was shorter, only just to her collar. She ran to the mirror, saw his reflection, screamed, and - for the first time in her life - fainted.

She awoke again surrounded by Mr. Bingley, a man Bingley referred to as Davies, and a footman. "Darcy! What happened? Are you alright?" Bingley asked with the utmost concern. "Shall we call the doctor?"

Elizabeth sat up, utterly confused. 'How has this happened? WHY had this happened?'

"Mr. Darcy, Sir, I don't think you ought to get up." Davies protested as Elizabeth pulled herself off the ground.

"No, No. I am... fine. I am not sure what happened. I.. I ..."

"You screamed like a woman and then we found you out cold on the ground!" Bingley said with a small chuckle seeing that his old friend was going to be alright.

Trying to cover up her rising panic and not let on that she was in fact a she, Elizabeth merely grumbled, "I did not scream like a woman. I slipped and must have hit my head." Why did doing anything 'like a woman' have to be an insult? I bet they couldn't have a baby 'like a woman!' she thought to herself.

"Well, then I will leave you with Davies to get dressed." Bingley said turning toward the door. "I'll see you downstairs for breakfast. Now that I am up so early, we should go for a ride before the others wake up."

Deathly afraid of horses Elizabeth tried to think fast, "Um, I'm not sure I should with my headache. Another time?" It sounded weak even to her but Bingley took her at her word.

"Yes, of course." And with that she was left alone with Davies who was apparently Mr. Darcy's valet. Despite knowing that Davies only saw Mr. Darcy when he looked at her, she could not help being self-conscious. She turned her back to the mirror to avoid seeing more of Mr. Darcy's nakedness than was absolutely necessary and refused to look down while getting dressed.

However hard she tried to preserve Mr. Darcy's modestly as well as her own, the fates had conspired against her for it was not but a few minutes before she realized she had to use the bathroom. Excusing herself, she made her way into the privy and stood there for a few minutes, trying to decide what to do. "Do I take off the pants entirely and have to redress? Do I open the front flap of his breeches and thereby have to touch... him?" She decided on removing the pants. That way she could avoid touching any private areas directly by sitting and then redressing with care.

Once that was done, she straightened her clothing with a some help from a disapproving Davies, and headed down to breakfast.

"Ah, there you are! Feeling better? You look a bit out of sorts." Bingley said looking concerned but nevertheless filling his plate with what appeared to be a second helping of most everything.

Trying to act as Darcy would (how would he act when it was just he and Mr. Bingley?), she walked to the sideboard and began to fill her plate. Taking twice what she normally would, she sat down across from Bingley. "I feel much better, Mr... uh, Charles, thank you." Quickly changing the subject, she added, "You appeared to enjoy yourself last night."

Judging by the surprised look on his face, she had clearly caught Bingley off guard with the statement. Perhaps men did not talk about these things like women did. How odd. Before she thought much more of it, Bingley began, "Darcy, she is an Angel! I know you tire of hearing it but I mean it this time. Jane Bennet is all that is good and lovely!'

Tire of hearing it? Why would he tire of hearing it? Jane is good and lovely. Ooohhhh, realizing suddenly that Bingley must speak of Jane in these terms quite often, she sighed happily.

However, Bingley mistook her happy sigh for one of resignation at best and so added, "Now I know you say you cannot tell whether or not she truly likes me or is just following her Mrs. Bennet's orders, but I tend to disagree. I think I detect a real preference." Quietly adding, "At least, I think I do."

Anger burned within Elizabeth! How could Mr. Darcy say such ridiculous things? OF COURSE Jane truly preferred Mr. Bingley! She is shy! However, she could not come right out and say that. How on Earth would Mr. Darcy explain this sudden change of heart and better understanding of the feelings of a woman he did not really know very well? No matter, she must endeavor to reassure Mr. Bingley of Jane's affections as best she could under the circumstances.

"Charles, I watched the two of you last night and I think I can now say that Miss Bennet may have true affection for you that is merely covered by an innate shyness. She may - in fact - be guarding her heart as young ladies are taught to do as well." Seeing the smile grow spread across Bingley's face, she knew her words were having the desired effect.

"You know, Darce, I think you may be correct. Jane does have a certain shyness about her until she is truly comfortable around someone. In that regard, you two are alike."

Before she could respond, Caroline walked in and all conversation about Jane Bennet abruptly ceased.