Disclaimer: I don't own Pride and Prejudice, or any of the associated characters. You know the drill...

Summary: See Previous Chapters

For all Mama's stories of having fancied an officer in her youth, before she married Papa, Lydia could not help but find that the militia did not quite live up to expectations.

Perhaps they would redeem themselves when dancing - Mama had extensive anecdotes about the delights of dancing with a man in a red coat - at whatever social event Colonel Forster had edged around committing to host. The bulk of the Milita Regiment would not arrive for another week at least, and Colonel Forster and his senior officers were all older men who spoke of little but the logistics of storage and empty fields to lease for the encampment and training. Besides, they were all married or soon to be so, and spared little more than a paternal smile at the young ladies of Meryton.

The local landowners hemmed and hawed, most voicing concerns about the damage to fallow fields and the effect on crop rotation, but eventually the negotiations were concluded, and everyone else could have their share of conversation.

Thankfully, the Militia would camp on the outskirts of Meryton, in the opposite direction to Netherfield, and thus well out of the Estate's range of influence. Lydia resolved to send Miss Morris, attending on her brother's arm, flowers at the first opportunity, for persuading Colonel Forster away from Netherfield as a usable site. Miss Morris had sited the facts that Mr Bingley was only leasing the estate, and would need to clear sub-leasing with the owner, who currently lived in one of the Colonies. Besides, Mr Bingley would be entertaining, and while Officers might certainly attend balls and dinners, carriages rattling around at all hours was not conducive to well-rested soldiers.

All of those things were true, of course, and excellent arguments for why the estate was unsuitable for the Militia. Better, those were acceptable reasons, that would not see anyone carted away to Bedlam, as telling the truth certainly would have! The real reason, of course, was that an entire regiment of personalities was simply too great a risk to be camped near Netherfield, even if they were the best and most honorable men in England!

Since none of the officers were available for light conversation, Lydia found herself reduced to listening and observing. Jane and Mr Bingley had partnered together for a game of Vingt-un, which they apparently both preferred over Commerce, and Mary was talking to the elder Miss Bond about a music piece they had been practicing lately. Kitty had abandoned the officers for her usual conversation partners, and Lizzy was talking with Charlotte, while Mr Darcy watched them from a distance.

Oh, dear. Mr Darcy was unpleasant to everyone outside his own party, but Lydia did not believe he was in danger of possession, if only because he would doubtless consider it a degradation to have anyone other than himself in control of his actions. That wouldn't save the man from Lizzy's wit or barbed tongue, of course, if she noticed him watching her...

Charlotte was a good friend to Lizzy, but she was also the furthest thing from a restraining influence. At seven-and-twenty, with little but good sense and a Knighted father to recommed her, Charlotte had resigned herself to being on the shelf, and thus enjoyed the freedom of a near-Spinster to speak and act with a frankness that other young ladies would edge around. Coupled with Lizzy's fearlessness, such conversations often led to Lydia's sister speaking very boldly indeed.

Well, if Mr Darcy was to be tonight's target, by the purposeful way he approached the two friends, he had probably earned it.

Bother, Lizzy was too far away to hear whatever she was saying, but Lydia hoped that it gave the prideful man a taste of his own medicine. They did not converse long before Charlotte moved to open the instrument, performing first as was her right as the host's eldest daughter. With no gentleman willing to single Charlotte out for any great notice, Lizzy turned the pages for her. Charlotte would doubtless return the favour when Lizzy took her turn at the pianoforte.

As Charlotte played, Mary made her way over to Lydia. "I found a spell that hides within music notes, and reveals magical influence to the eyes of the one playing only. However, it is easy to get lost in, so I will need to to interrupt me after a time. Demand a jig, if you must, I can play those with my eyes closed."

Lydia nodded, "I will ask the Lucas boys if they fancy dancing, since the officers appear to be a lost cause for such entertainments. If they refuse, we will manage something."

After a lengthly concerto, Lydia and Kitty dutifully interrupted their sister with requests for some Irish and Scottish airs, which were far better received by the guests. Shortly after that, Maria Lucas succeeded her at the instrument, continuing the theme of dancing songs. Lydia rested for a set, graciously giving the other young ladies a chance at the limited number of gentlemen, and used the opportunity to make sure that Mary was well and did not need to return home early.

She had barely opened her mouth to inquire when Kitty started in surprise, exclaiming in a loud whisper "Did Mr Darcy just ask Lizzy to dance?"

Mr Darcy had been talking to Sir William, who never quite stopped being the Master of Ceremonies, especially at events where he acted the host. "I do not know that Sir William left him any polite way to refuse."

Mary lifted her head, exhaustion clear on her features. "I hope Lizzy finds a way to refuse. Mr Darcy is one of those who has an air of magic about him, but I did not have the opportunity to see if it was benign or malevolent."

Lizzy was more than capable of turning down a dance, and the rules governing refusal at a private dinner were different to those at a ball. Indeed, she turned away with an arch glance at the gentleman and was quickly replaced by Miss Bingley. Joining her sisters, Lizzy's arch smile broadened into a wide grin of satisfaction at the trapped expression on Mr Darcy's proud mein. "Well, we reap what we sow, I suppose. I have no doubt Miss Bingley would curb her tongue if she did not think he agreed with her."

Mr Darcy was casting increasingly desperate looks at Mr Bingley, who was finally persuaded to leave Jane's side to rescue his friend. Jane, as a consequence, drifted over to her sisters, neatly maneuvering herself away from one of the younger officers before he could offer her anything. "Did the music work?"

Mary straightened from where she had been subtly leaning against Lydia. "It worked, but it has the drawback that it does not convey the type, or whether is a past or current affectation, or active or passive."

Lizzy raised an eyebrow, pointedly ignoring the gentleman who had resumed watching her. "Past? What do you mean 'passive'?"

Mary looked around, spotting several guests about to draw closer. "Not here. We will talk at home."

They departed not long later, with the excuse of being expected at Church early the next morning. It was mostly true.

Once home, the sisters gathered again in Mary's room, where their sister was already pacing and muttering to herself. "What can you tell us, Mary?"

Mary sighed, "There were many people in attendance at Lucas Lodge who had traces of magic about them. Ourselves and Miss Morris, obviously, but also Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley, Colonel Forster and some of his Officers. Even Mama has a hint of it."

Kitty blinked, "A side effect from birthing us, or meerly from spending so much time in our presence, do you think?"

Mary considered the question, "Likely the latter, which would also explain some of the Officers, as well. However, I do not wish to prejudice ourselves with assumptions. There is also the possibility that they were present during some magical upheaval in the past, and it left a mark, like... like pox scars, for lack of a better comparison."

Lizzy, whose left arm still bore scars from a particularly bad bout of the pox as a child, frowned. "So that is the passive traces you mentioned?"

Jane tilted her head, "I suppose passive magic would also encompass someone who was cursed or under a magical binding, too."

Jane was always subtle in her emotions, but her sisters were particularly attuned to her tells. Under their combined stares, Jane elaborated. "Mr Bingley mentioned that he enjoys travelling to the places he read about in history books, and that he is fortunate to have friends like Mr Darcy willing to travel with him, especially with him being so recently removed from Trade. I believe he meant to hint at whether that would be something I would enjoy, but many of the places mentioned in History books also had Darkness attached to them."

Lizzy patted her gently on the shoulder. "Well, it is too soon to tell. We shall just have to be alert to suspicious behaviours."

This was far too close to deep and meaningful discussions about feelings for Lydia's taste. "Kitty and I are always welcome at Aunt Phillips's, and the Milliner grows concerned if she does not see us at least twice a week. We can keep an eye on the Officers, for Aunt Phillips will surely have them visiting often. If Mr Darcy continues to seek Lizzy out in company, she can observe him then."

Lizzy looked like she had just discovered half a worm in her apple, but nodded resoloutely in agreement. "Jane, you are already often in company with Mr Bingley, and his sisters expressed an interest in continuing your acquaintance. Would you be willing..."

Left unsaid was that Jane was the most likely of them to be invited to visit Netherfield, and by the nature of her powers, had the best defence against it's influence. Jane looked almost as unhappy as Lizzy had, but also agreed.

Kitty and Lydia discharged their duty faithfully, returning from each visit to Meryton with information about the Militia, which they dutifully shared with Mama and whoever was visiting her, in order to garner an exchange of information. Matrons often spoke of things not considered fit for a young lady's ears, but Mama did not always hold those subjects distinct. Even when she did, she would share such intelligence to warn her daughters away from those she considered unsuitable.

Mama was always sure to mention when an eligible man spent too much time visiting Miss Watson, a Spinster some years younger than Mama who owned a house on the outskirts of Meryton, and was seldom short of male visitors. No one would ever tell Lydia why visiting the lady was such an unfavorable passtime, but apparently it was. But Captain Carter and Colonel Forster had stopped visiting so often, and were to be seen more often at Clarke's lending library.

Papa, on the other hand, disapproved of Kitty and Lydia speaking so often of handsome officers, considering it a subject of little sense. Mama protested that admiration of officers was a common habit of the young. "After all, my dear Mr Bennet, I daresay you played with soldiers as a boy, but when our girls are grown to our age, they will think of officers as little as we do! You must be mindful, though, my dears," she said, turning to her daughters, "that very few soldiers are in a position to marry without other means to their name."

Unless one of the Militia Officers had enlisted out of Patriotism or the desire to see some of the Kingdom while waiting to inherit from a still-hale relation, they were unlikely to have more than a few hundred pounds available to them each year. Even a Colonel could not expect much more than eight hundred pounds from his wages alone. There had been a number of complaints in Papa's paper recently about the lowering of standards for a Militia Officer, to the point that a university education was deemed fit to replace land ownership.

Captain Carter, for instance, should have either owned or been heir to land worth at least four hundred pounds a year, while Lieutenant Denny, if he had not earned his rank on merit, would need land worth at least fifty pounds. Yet, both had callouses on their hands that spoke of a working life, and accents that Lydia was more used to hearing among the tenants than in drawing rooms. "Might an officer still keep his rank if he is displaced as heir? If a younger brother enlisted as the heir to holdings of some value, but his older brother later produced an heir of his own, would he be demoted?"

Lizzy looked up from the magazine she was reading, "I do not believe that militia regulations planned for such distinctions. A man owning an acre of good forest or pasture might have the required earnings from leasing his land in one year, without ever owning his own house."

Mama nodded decisively. "Indeed, my dears. If a smart young Colonel, with five or six thousand a year, should want one of my girls, I would welcome him gladly, but I would not have you throw yourselves away on a poor man who could not keep you in comfort."

The subject of officers was quickly set aside when a letter arrived for Jane, an invitation from Miss Bingley to visit her and Mrs Hurst. The gentlemen were to dine with the officers tonight, but such a detail did not matter to Mama. "You had better go on horseback, my dear, for then if it rains, they must invite you to stay the night."

A glance out the window showed darkening clouds, though with none of the ominious extras that signified Netherfield awakening. Lydia wondered if Evil ever did anything without being obvious about it. Of course, Mama's design also presumed that Miss Bingley would actually extend the invitation, rather than sending Jane back in a single-horse curricle or phaeton. Or that Jane was willing to stay the night, Netherfield being what it was. "I had much rather go in the coach."

That, Papa demured himself, as the horses were occupied on the farm, and unavailable to draw the carriage. Thus, Jane was obliged to go on horseback, and it began to rain shortly after her departure.

Mama was as delighted as if she had arranged the weather herself, but her daughters were worried. Jane would not send a rider out at night in a storm without it being an emergency, but for Jane to be at Netherfield alone...

Morning brought a break in the weather, and a missive from Jane before the Bennets had sat down to breakfast. "My dear sisters,"Lizzy read aloud, buttering the side of her plate nearly an inch from where her toast rested, "I find myself very unwell this morning, which I suppose must be due to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of me leaving until I am better - do not be alarmed if you hear of Mr Jones being sent for - but aside from a headache and a sore throat there is not much the matter with me."

Mary plucked the letter from Lizzy's hand. "You had better focus on your breakfast if you intend to go to Netherfield later."

Lizzy cast a rueful glance at her plate,and took a bite of some stewed fruit. Lydia took advantage of the brief silence to read over Mary's shoulder, "Do you think she is really so unaffected?"

Jane's caring nature made her a terrible patient, even worse than Lizzy's loathing of forced inactivity, and the note was unusually blotted, as if it had taken great effort to keep the letters neat and the pen steady. There were none of the coded words that hinted Jane was writing under duress, but Lydia doubted that Mr Bingley's sisters had much practice in nursing. Likely such matters would be left to the servants, who would never dream of acting against Jane's demands to be let out of bed immediately. Lizzy was by far the better option.

Her other three sisters scoffed in unison, and were promptly scolded by Mama for such unladylike behaviour. "After all, people do not die of trifling colds, and you girls will know better than to listen when Jane professes herself well too quickly."

Lizzy finished her breakfast and hurried upstairs to exchange house shoes for walking boots. Mary sighed, spooning the last of her porridge. "There is benevolence in such activity, but exertion should not exceed what is required, especially when there are sleepless nights of nursing ahead."

Kitty and Lydia did not need to look at each other to wish Mary luck in convincing their elder sister of that. "We will walk with Lizzy at least as far as Meryton, Papa. We have errands there in any case."

When Miss Bennet had all but fainted in the drawing room, Darcy had known that it was only a matter of time before at least one of her sisters descended upon Netherfield. The desire to care for an unwell sibling spoke well of them - Darcy knew all too well the protective instincts that an ill loved one bestirred - but he expected a little more time to prepare! Miss Elizabeth's appearance, not half an hour after breakfast, her petticoat six inches deep in mud, had been surprising, to say the least!

Hair windswept despite the best efforts of her bonnet, eyes bright with exertion, the hint of a challenging smile, all but daringhim to comment on any of it... Darcy's cravet suddenly felt much tighter than it had when his valet dressed him only an hour or so earlier. "You will find your sister upstairs, Miss Bennet. Bingley brought her a tray himself, and a maid has been sitting with her."

There, if designs on Bingley's wealth were the Bennet's goal, surely he would see satisfaction in her eyes. Indeed, something flashed across Miss Elizabeth's flushed features, but it looked more like fear than avarice. Why on earth would she fear Bingley, who often put Darcy in mind of a King Charles Spaniel given human form?

So, when Bingley returned to the breakfast room, announcing that Miss Elizabeth would be staying a few days, do inform Cook and have a room prepared just in case, won't you Caroline, Darcy made an excuse about seeing to some correspondence and escaped before Miss Bingley could complain about it.

His reason was not a lie; letters travelled daily between Pemberly and Netherfield, because estate business did not stop merely because the master was not in residence, and Darcy was still waiting on Fitzwilliam's reply. It was merely that the room in which Miss Bennet was staying was directly on the way to his own room and the adjourning study, and no-one could fault him lingering a moment to admire one of the portraits on the wall opposite.

Thus positioned, he could hear the conversation between the sisters. Miss Elizabeth's warm tones, tinged with exasperation, were a sound he would know blindfolded. "Well, Mama will be pleased to be right; you will not die of this cold, but I cannot promise much enjoyment of the next few days. At least you will have the condolence of Mr Bingley's company."

Miss Bennet's voice was hoarse from coughing, but still clear and distinct. "I like Mr Bingley very well, but there are greater considerations to be had. A wife is dependent on the will of her husband. Would I be mistress of my home, or constantly asked to give way to his sisters in order to keep the peace? I do not call attention to their habit of looking down on their social superiors, or their high ambitions, but that does not mean I have not noticed it."

There was the sound of a cloth being wrung out, and a faint hum of agreement. "And Netherfield being what it is, you cannot be too cautious of anyone who takes residence here. Sir Good Riddence appeared likable at first, too, and see how thatturned out!"

A violent bout of coughing interrupted Miss Bennet's initial reaction, and when it subdued, she was the one to sound exasperated. "Between you and Lydia, I almost suspect a competition over who can invent the most absurd appelation for the unfortunate man! Really, I am not so ill as to need all this fussing."

Darcy caught himself smiling at Miss Elizabeth's merry laugh, and he moved closer to the door. "You are a worse patient than I, which is saying a great deal, and cannot be thinking straight if you believe I would leave you in this house alone... wait."

Miss Elizabeth's light tone had hardened in suspicion, not unlike Fitzwilliam's tone and bearing changed when he sensed danger. Darcy hastily removed himself down the hall, settling in to write another letter to Fitzwilliam, stressing the urgency of the situation.

.

.

.

.

A/N: I've just started a new job, and am suffering the effects of hay fever, so don't worry if updates are a little erratic over the next few weeks. The story isn't abandoned, I just may not have the brain-space to write every day.

To make up for that, this chapter is nearly 1000 words longer than usual!

If you're interested in writing memes, teasers and fanfic-related ramblings between chapters, you can follow me on Facebook as Natasja Rose Author (since FanFiction apparently hates links...)