"Just to clarify," said Lady Matlock "during next year's season, you would like me to assist you in finding a bride amongst those ladies who are out."

"Yes, if you would please" said Mr. Darcy.

"Must she be of noble or gentle birth?"

"No. I would be happy to consider any young woman you might find who has the attributes of Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"So, daughters of clergy, military officers, barristers?" Lady Matlock asked.

"Certainly, if they met the criteria."

"What of a tradesman's daughter?"

Mr. Darcy laughed. "If Miss Bingley had the attributes of Miss Elizabeth, I likely would be married to her by now."

"Are you looking for a connection to any particular family?"

Mr. Darcy laughed. "No, I find that my existing connection to the noble Fitzwilliam family is almost more than I can bear."

Lady Matlock nodded, "Fair enough. How much dowry do you require?"

"None. If there is a dowry, I will settle it on my bride."

"Excellent, if you are willing to consider poor ladies the possible number of candidates increases substantially. What about ladies fallen on hard times; widows, spinsters, governesses, companions and the like?"

"Again, if they met the criteria …"

"And what the situation of the bride's family?" asked Lady Matlock.

"I will judge her for herself" said Mr. Darcy.

"But what if she has been ruined by the actions of someone in her family?"

"I will not visit the sins of her family on her."

"I must say the liberality of what you are saying surprises me given the excessive pride you have exhibited in the past" said Lady Matlock.

"The day of the compromise, I attended on Miss Elizabeth with the intention of proposing to her. I had already debated with myself the necessity of taking a bride who had wealth and connections and decided I had no need to. My decision did not change when I actually debated that question with Lord Matlock and Lady Catherine when they tried to talk me out of proceeding with the wedding. I could, and would, be quite happy with a bride, like Miss Elizabeth, who makes me happy" said Mr. Darcy.

"And what of Georgiana?" asked Lady Matlock.

"I wish the same for her. I would rather see her happily married to a poor man with no connections, than unhappily married to a wealthy man with excellent connections. Keep in mind that she would never be destitute, I control her dowry to such an extent that in any marriage settlement I can ensure that it be used to provide her with an income" said Mr. Darcy.

"Well, as I say, I am surprised, but not in a negative way. I am glad that you are choosing happiness over advantage. I wish more of our kind did."

Internally Mr. Darcy sighed with relief; after the dressing down his aunt had given him, he had been worried that she would not be disposed to help him; but now it appeared that he was still in her good graces. "So, do you have any ladies for me to consider?" he asked. His aunt knew everyone there was to know. This whole process might be easier, and quicker, than he anticipated.

"Do you mean ladies, who are intelligent, able and willing to debate literature, philosophy, politics, history, the four crop rotation and the like; who are young and healthy, at the start of their child bearing years; who, if not beautiful, have light and pleasing figures, and very fine eyes; who are loving, to the extent of walking three miles through mud to care for an ailing sister; who enjoy walking in nature, minding not a little attendant tanning; who enjoy the theatre, museums, concerts of town but prefer country life; who are so confident and brave, some might say impertinent, as to beard the dragon in her den; who enjoy the emotion of music, if not its diligent practice; who are of good humour and like to tease, but without being cruel; who possess a vivacity that perfectly complements the reticence of a certain gentleman; and who constantly improve their minds by extensive reading? Ladies like that?" Lady Matlock asked.

Mr. Darcy laughed. "When you put it like that, I am worried that you may not know any ladies with such attributes."

Lady Matlock held up her hand. "Before he left, Richard told me of your quest and without even putting my mind to it, I thought of at least two dozen young ladies who were like your Miss Elizabeth, as least as far as he perceived her. Now, he did not mention that she was something of a bluestocking, which is not surprising given that he has never been interested in reading a book unless it was about some battle; but I am confident that, after I canvas my friends, I can come up with at least that number of young ladies who are like your Miss Elizabeth, as you perceive her." Lady Matlock held up her hand. "Don't worry, I won't use your name. I'll tell my friends I'm looking for a bride for Richard; he's safe in Spain from any embarrassment that might entail." She laughed "He told me that if I found a lady like Miss Elizabeth with fifty thousand pounds to save her for him. I told him no one was going to wait for him until the war was over, so you're safe from him competing with you, at least until he comes home. No, if you're going to worry, it had better be about this: whether any lady like Miss Elizabeth would willingly choose to accept your hand if it were offered."

Mr. Darcy pushed down the momentary affront he felt – the thought that any lady would dare to turn down Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley – but, after all, Elizabeth had, and there were the rumours that swirled around the reason she jilted him. "Richard and Georgiana told me about the speculation about why Miss Elizabeth jilted me" he said.

"There's that, but let's start at the beginning, shall we." said his aunt. At her nephew's nod she continued "Five years ago you made your debut as the master of Pemberley. You had almost everything going for you: you were handsome, rich, and owned both Pemberley and a townhouse in Mayfair. Best of all, from a potential bride's point of view, you were an orphan – from the minute she married you she would be the absolute mistress of your household free of any mother-in-law's interference. And if you think I'm joking, consider having your Aunt Catherine as your mother-in-law. If you would have had a title you would have been the male Incomparable of that season. But since then, you've frittered away your desirability.

"You attended balls, but seemingly just so you could scowl at the dancers like some Puritan; when you did dance you acted like you were being dosed with cod liver oil; and if you heard a laugh or a giggle, you reacted as if you had smelt something particularly bad. You never called the next day; you never sent flowers; you never took anyone for a drive in Hyde Park; you never flirted; you never complimented; you refused invitations; you refused introductions; you never smiled.

"Have you ever enjoyed yourself at any activity where young ladies were present? Dinners, soirées, card parties, house parties?"

"I did not want to raise expectations" Mr. Darcy huffed.

"Raise expectations? You razed expectations to the ground. But dour as you were, you were still rich, which makes up for a lot of shortcomings. But you didn't act it. You didn't seem to enjoy spending money: you didn't entertain; you didn't follow fashion. What did you spend your money on? And if you wouldn't spend money on yourself would you spend it on your wife? All in all, you perfected the persona of a miserly misanthropic misogynist."

Mr. Darcy threw up his hands. "So, I am undesirable as a husband? I do not see it. Match making mamas are still pushing their daughters at me." He stood up and started to pace.

"Sit down; I don't want to crane my neck to look at you. And as far as those match making mamas go, have you ever considered the quality of the daughters they are pushing on you? Homely, infirm, stupid, young ladies rapidly approaching spinsterhood. They are so desperate they will take anyone. I remind you that Mrs. Bennet was not so desperate as to push a daughter of hers on you. I can tell you right now that the mothers of the young ladies who I think are like your Miss Elizabeth, are not at all desperate."

Mr. Darcy sat down and frowned. It had been a long time since he had been introduced to a diamond of the first water, or even of the second or third water for that matter. "Why didn't anyone warn me I was being so …" his voice trailed off as he saw his aunt staring at her, her mouth frozen in a tight thin-lipped frown. "You did, didn't you."

"I did. Richard did. Henry did. Rebecca did. Repeatedly. Why do you think we approved of your friendship with Mr. Bingley? We all thought some of his amiability might rub off on you. But no, the all knowing, always correct, Fitzwilliam Darcy never listened to us; he adjudged that his rude manner was all that was proper."

"I have always been civil."

Lady Matlock sniffed. "Your cold civility is merely refined rudeness. It is certainly not gentlemanly."

Mr. Darcy needed a drink. Maybe two. "Are you through?" he asked.

"No, not quite. You forget where we started this conversation. There is still the awful, horrible reason why Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the unknown country chit, jilted you. Which is?" Lady Matlock raised at eyebrow at Mr. Darcy.

He held up his hands. "I've already told you everything I know. Wickham poisoned her against me. I hurt her favourite sister, Miss Jane Bennet, when I convinced Bingley to leave Netherfield. Now you have convinced me that, even ignoring those reasons, I am not someone who can be loved."

"Don't start blubbering. I still love you; your family loves you. Well, maybe not Catherine. What I've been telling you is how other people, who don't really know you, see you. And right now, because of this jilting, people are seeing you in a very bad light. They just can't agree on what's wrong with you. The favourite suppositions are: that you are of the molly persuasion …" Lady Matlock stared at Mr. Darcy until he shook his head; "that you are afflicted with the French pox…" Mr. Darcy was shaking his head before she paused, he could feel himself starting to blush, to hear his aunt speaking of such things, so matter of factually, "and, you are violent towards women."

"Never. I have never been violent to anyone; that Wickham still walks the earth is proof of that."

Lady Matlock reached over and patted Mr. Darcy on his arm. "Don't worry, when we do find a young lady who accepts you, I've a glimmer of an idea on how to convince the gossips of the ton that there's nothing wrong with you. But you had better worry about how you are going to charm, and then court, that young lady we find so she does accept you. You told me you were going to help Mr. Bingley learn how to run an estate; maybe he can teach you how to charm young ladies."

Mr. Darcy smiled at his aunt, a small guilty smile. "Certainly, it is time for this old dog to learn some new tricks." If I can find Bingley he thought, why hasn't he replied to my letter? Has he cut me because of what I did to separate him and Miss Bennet?