"Mr. Darcy, sir."

Thomas Bennet looked up curiously at the young man looking pensive in the doorway of his study. Bennet glanced at the clock and saw that it was the beginning of visiting hours… precisely to the minute. With five daughters to marry off, he could not afford to offend any suitors, but his extensive reports of this man from his wife and daughters after the assembly, in no way had prepared him for the likelihood of the gentleman extending a visit at this time, or any time for that matter. Mr. Darcy had danced with nobody outside of his own party, and he had spent most of the evening just stalking the edges of the assembly. Of course, Mr. Bennet thought that behavior perfectly rational, and nearly as good as the much more palatable option of not attending the assembly in the first place.

Mr. Bingley might be expected, but not Mr. Darcy. Reports of the former looked a bit promising for Jane, or at least as promising as a single assembly could. Of course, he knew young men's fancy was subject to whims and change, so would not read too much into it, regardless of his wife's opinion on the subject. Giving his eldest daughter even odds of finding happiness at this point would be optimistic.

Now, Mr. Darcy, well, if the gentleman was here this early in the day, it presaged a very interesting conversation indeed. The young man was obviously first circles, and his presence at Longbourn was completely unexpected. Of course, most of Mr. Bennet's knowledge of both gentlemen came from his overly excitable matchmaking wife, who found Mr. Darcy most disagreeable. Of course, the father thought, anyone that failed to fall at one of his daughters' feet would be considered disagreeable by his wife. And yet, here he was… Mr. Darcy.

"Mr. Darcy, come in, Sir. Come in. I must admit, your presence here is not what I expected this morning."

As Mr. Darcy came into the room, it was obvious he didn't feel his predicament was quite comfortable. The man was reputed to be the master of a very large estate in Derbyshire, yet he could not possibly be even thirty years of age. His responsibility must have weighed heavily on him. Mr. Bennet could have some sympathy for the young man. Bennet was a second son, not expecting to inherit, and he had been quite unprepared for it himself. How much worse for a much younger man with a much larger estate. Darcy took the proffered seat, apparently with some reluctance, after making the bow that courtesy demanded.

"Mr. Bennet, I am pleased to meet you."

Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, and he thought he might indeed find something to amuse here with this Mr. Darcy, but the man looked so serious, Bennet really did not have the heart to trifle with him just yet. Perhaps later, but not yet.

He replied, "Well, I am happy to have you here as well, Mr. Darcy. How may I be of assistance?"

Darcy looked a bit chagrined and thought he might as well just get down to business. Looking a bit unsure of himself, he finally replied.

"Mr. Bennet, I am here to apologize to your daughter. I said some ungentlemanly things last night that I have become aware she heard, and I wish to offer an apology and reparations."

Mr. Bennet nearly chortled in glee, but instead managed to keep a straight face, and replied, "I fear you may need to be more specific, Mr. Darcy. I have five daughters. Which one do I need to keep away from the knives?"

Darcy knew he was being teased, but thought he should take it like a man, so he replied simply, "It pains me to admit it, but I was not even introduced to the lady. I believe it was Miss Elizabeth."

This changed Bennet's face from amusement to perplexity, and he asked with some astonishment, "You insulted my daughter, whom you were not even introduced to?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And you are still standing, and mostly intact?"

"As you see, Sir"

This was a new and unexpected development, so Mr. Bennet rubbed his chin in confusion, "Well, I guess that explains why she is not here at this moment Mr. Darcy. If you wanted to get the chore over with, I am afraid you are in for some disappointment."

Darcy tilted his head in apparent confusion, "What do you mean, Sir?"

Bennet looked carefully at the young man and wondered how much to confide in him. Old enough to have a son of Mr. Darcy's age, Bennet could see a young man struggling and could not fathom the reason why. He made up his mind to ask something only peripherally related.

"Before I elaborate, Mr. Darcy, might I ask what your father would think of this whole episode?"

"I am afraid, Sir, my father has passed these five years, and my mother nearly fifteen years ago. I believe that between them, they would probably draw straws to see who tried to talk sense into me, and who would give me a thrashing."

Bennet gave a good hearty laugh, which seemed to loosen up a small dam in Mr. Darcy, who eventually joined him, though he admitted to himself that it was not quite as much fun being the object of the amusement as it was to be the subject.

After the laughter descended into awkward silence, Darcy finally decided to be uncharacteristically honest.

"I have been master of my estate of around 1,100 acres since the age of two and twenty. I am both father and brother to my sister, presently of fifteen years, and not doing a particularly brilliant job of either. I have been the fox in the marriage hunt most of that time, so I am somewhat… er… uncomfortable in crowds. I offer this as explanation, not as excuse sir. Apologies and excuses discount each other."

Bennet looked carefully at the man and determined that he might actually grow to like him, in the unlikely event of their ever meeting again after he did his penance with Lizzy. Gentlemen of the first circles rarely spent time with simple country squires. Mr. Bennet had seen many such men of all stripes at Cambridge, and though he understood them well enough. The aging father decided there was little harm in enlightening the young man.

"Well said, Sir. I believe you are correct. I will offer the explanation you requested."

"I thank you, Sir."

Bennet looked at the clock and decided it was slightly early for 'refreshments', although a justification for them was sure to be found given the extraordinary circumstances. While tea would ordinarily be the drink of choice, he pulled a bottle of claret off a shelf and gestured to the young man. The offer was accepted, and both gentlemen settled in, comforted by the slight weight of the glass in their hands.

"Mr. Darcy, my daughter Elizabeth likes to walk. She likes to walk very much. She always stops by to tell me when she leaves, which is usually quite early. Elizabeth and Mary are early risers, while my other daughters are not. This morning, despite coming home from the assembly suspiciously early, she still left much later than usual. In fact, if I did not know better, I would believe she chose the timing for her morning's ramble specifically to avoid you, since she left only a quarter hour before visiting hours."

Darcy nodded, and replied, "She showed abundant good sense last night, Sir. She laughed at me until she had her fill and then left. Avoiding me today would just be more of the same."

Bennet thought about that for a moment, but replied, "Well, perhaps… well… Mr. Darcy, how much would you like to know? If you just want to offer your apology and be done, you may take that desk over there and write one. I will see that it is delivered discreetly, and propriety will not be violated if I sit with her as she reads it and burn it after."

Darcy appreciated the gesture, but replied, "I prefer to do my groveling in person, Sir."

Bennet was amused by the turn of word and decided to give the youngster a bit more rope.

"Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth is an unusual young lady… not by any stretch your average young Miss. She has always loved the wilderness, and for most of her life, she walked for hours, nearly every day. In a house full of noise and bluster, it is a good strategy for remaining on this side of the sanity curtain."

"A sensible enough precaution, Mr. Bennet. Does she walk alone?"

Mr. Bennet decided the question showed a concern for safety, more than a concern for propriety or a condescension.

"She used to walk all over hill and dale quite alone for hours at a time, sometimes with a book, and sometimes just wandering. However, she had an accident about four months ago on holiday, and it left her with a bit of a different take on things."

"How so, Sir?"

"Well, it was a simple incident that might have proven fatal. I believe she got a hard lesson in her own vulnerability. She was walking alone near a beach and the path crumbled under her feet. She rolled through several feet of steep sand, and then some shale, which naturally decided to follow her down to the beach. She ended up with mostly cuts and bruises, but quite a lot of both, and lost consciousness for some hours. She recovered physically but is now much more cautious."

The young man shuddered, and replied somewhat shaken, "I hope the injuries were not terrible?"

The honest reaction was exactly what Mr. Bennet both desired and expected. It was enough to trust the young man just a bit more.

"Bad enough, Sir. I believe it gave her a glimpse of how hard life can be, and how little it takes to leave us precariously situated. Ever since then, she has been quite militant about protection. She always had good manners and perfect decorum, as does her elder sister. Since the accident though, she has lost some of the spiritedness she used to have. Now, she studies propriety with a vengeance, and she will not step even an inch outside its boundaries. For a time, I assumed she saw something else on her holiday that distressed her, but now I do not know. I imagine it is possible, but either way, she is the most decorous woman in Meryton now."

Darcy took his own moment to rub his chin in perplexity, and asked, "So, she is diligent about propriety, you say?"

"Yes, that is about it."

Darcy thought about it and replied at some length.

"My sister, who is fifteen now, may also have had something happen last summer. She was coincidentally on holiday at about that time. She has always been shy and timid but was just starting to pull at the traces and chafe at the bit. She always acted like she dreamed of something noteworthy, or perhaps even outrageous, but lacked courage, if you understand what I mean? She of course would never actually do anything indecorous, but it seemed like she dreamed of more excitement in her life."

Bennet laughed, "I have five daughters, Sir. I understand perfectly."

"Indeed; well, I came to visit her in the summer, and she related some issues with her companion. None were particularly worrisome, but they added up to enough for me to replace the woman. Now, she seems to have taken a real shine to the rules of propriety herself. When we are at our estate in Derbyshire, she used to go out by herself quite regularly, but she now seems more timid than before. She has also told me she does not plan to come out until eighteen, where before she seemed to dream about the moment where she would finally take her place in society. The speedy transformation was unexpected."

"I see. Did you get a new companion for her?"

"Yes, I managed to get one within a few weeks."

"Is it possible that is the root cause for the change?"

"Yes, it very well might be. I really cannot tell. Her new companion, Mrs. Annesley, is a very sensible widow of around forty years. Perhaps she has wrought the change."

"Perhaps. At that age, young ladies go through quite a lot of changes irrespective of their individual character. It is a difficult time. Their bodies, their attitudes, their position in society… they are all evolving quickly. Young men do not have to go through quite so many upheavals, and they have trouble understanding the experience. Eventually young men grow into old men like me, and we still do not understand it, but at least are aware of our ignorance."

Both men retreated into their thoughts for a bit, and Mr. Bennet was first to break the silence.

"Mr. Darcy, Lizzy is my second eldest daughter. My third eldest, Mary, has been reading Fordyce for some time, and has also been obsessed with behavior. She always was prone to moralizing sermons and was quite unpopular with her sisters. However, now she and Elizabeth have made a bit of an alliance. They seem to be working together to knock my two least sensible daughters into some semblance of good behavior, with surprisingly positive results. They walk together anytime Lizzy wants a long walk. When they cannot walk together, Lizzy never goes far. I believe she is now reluctant to do so."

Darcy thought this was interesting although hardly relevant, and he raised an eyebrow.

Bennet added, "Mary is here, so Lizzy is almost certainly still within sight of the house. Neither you nor I have the slightest chance of finding her if she does not want to be found, but she knows you are here, and she will know when you leave. I suspect her 'walk' will by some great coincidence, end right after you leave."

Darcy laughed a bit and said, "I must admit, Mr. Bennet, that I find the idea of a young lady avoiding me so assiduously to be somewhat enchanting and quite sensible. It does not happen as often as you might hope."

Bennet had a good laugh at that and paused briefly before delivering his reply.

"If you really want to proffer your apology, you may need to stay to dinner, or perhaps it might be better to return for supper on the morrow. Basic politeness demands my daughter attend dinner. I do not believe she will avoid you forever. She will evade you until the very last minute, but she will be back before the appointed time, as propriety demands. If you would care for a game of chess or backgammon, I will arrange for her to attend me here a few minutes when she eventually returns. She will of course demure to give you a private audience, but she will allow you to have your say in my presence. Basic civility demands it, and my Lizzy is nothing if not polite."

Darcy thought about the offer, and replied, "Well then, Mr. Bennet, I shall be happy to give you your comeuppance on the chessboard and do my best to keep my wits together at a meal in the lively atmosphere you describe. Perhaps your offer of supper on the morrow would be ideal. It would be best if she had a day to prepare before you spring my presence at the table on her."

"You mean so you can gird your loins for battle? There will be six women, five of them unmarried in one room."

Darcy had the good humor to laugh along, feeling an unexpected warmth towards the older man.

Mr. Bennet had thoroughly enjoyed the younger gentleman; wishing to lend a hand on his noble quest for forgiveness, he called for a servant to insure his daughter attended him in his bookroom the moment she appeared, which he knew full well would be at the exact last instance when her propriety collided with her stubbornness. He then sat down, chose white and started the game.

After perhaps a dozen moves, Mr. Bennet made another suggestion.

"Mr. Darcy, my Lizzy plays chess too, quite well I might add. When you apologize, pay attention to how she responds. It may take you a while to fathom it, but I hope, it will make sense eventually."

Darcy looked carefully at the father and avoided comment by making another move.