Hi everyone. I want to apologize for yet another delay and also for the shortness of this chapter, but school is as busy as ever. Term papers are a drag. I hope you can make do with this one. Hope you like it!

Chapter 15: Pemberley Gates Closed

Miss Mary Bennet,

I have written these lines in the hope that you shall not dismiss them the moment you see the letter. I truly hope you can pursue them till the very end and make an opinion of them. Not of their handsomeness for sure, but of their staunchness to my feelings of considerable remorse.

A remorse not at all indebted to my acts of lustfulness, as you may call them, but to my encouraging poor Miss de Bourgh in her whimsical attempts to have me show affection to her.

You might as well inquire how I came to be such a companion to her, but you can well remember my staying at Rosings in the summer. I did not expect to find any warm considerations or proofs of kin. I also did not expect to become the immediate friend and confidant of Anne. She is a charming, shy, rather spirited girl, yet an ignoramus and far too tasteless, vulgar and conceited for my likes. Yet it was a glint of hope in that grey situation. We both despised her mother. You must not condemn me for so shocking a declaration. It is but the truth and I think you would prefer it that way.

After a period of time I realised that my affection was misguided and misleading and I suffered her let me be. Yet she would not, she would threaten to tell Lady Catherine of our bond, an issue I did not want to be let out in the open. It was only a petite affair.

Then you came into my sight, Mary Bennet and such a contrast you were to her pestilence that I quickly understood you were perfectly fit for my character. I directed most of my attentions to you and I desired to inspire certain feelings, stir your heart as perverse as it may sound. With a bit of encouragement love would not be so far away. I am being quite forward, for the situation calls for bluntness, yet I can assure you I always meant to treat you with the highest regard and care.

The misfortune took place in her following me desperately to my home in Derbyshire. Anne missed me terribly, poor girl was in love and I received her warmly, believing I can perhaps alleviate her pain. As any man I am very flattered when a woman professes eternal love to me. She almost knelt at my feet. I considered calling a hackney couch to take her to town, but seeing as miserable as she was I bade her stay for tea. It was not so much trouble of me and it was the least I could do…after causing her such distress. I told her she can ask anything of me in return for her pain. I offered fortune, jewellery, hyacinths, for Goodness Sake, the moon! I cannot stand a woman crying, believe me, it's a wretched sight. She wanted nothing of such things. I was tormented, I knew not what else I could offer. She murmured "a kiss". I obeyed…from thereon she became mistress of me and it happened so that I lost my will and power to think rationally. This may seem a very petty, if not foolish excuse, but it is the truth, nonetheless.

The look you gave me while standing at the door made me realise I deserved to be perhaps taken to the gallows. I suppose nothing else would be fit. Suffice it to say, all night and day I thought about no one but you. I did not worry about Anne or her journey home, I recoiled from her skin and shut myself up, trying to write to you. I am not a sentimental man, I cannot create pretty lines for milkmaids, I am not the lonely troubadour, yet all I could consider in those moments was that I might have lost you eternally. I will not say more on account of my feelings, they are easily understood.

If there is one thing I deeply request of you, humble kind girl, is that you show this letter to no one else. Let it be that what came to pass remain between our souls. I do not hope for your forgiveness, but I do hope that such affairs will not be let out in the open for all to hear. It would pain you and I. More pain is not something I wish to cause you, even though the proof of such pain shows you are not entirely indifferent to me.

I do not dare to ask for your reply, but I do wish that after some time you could write to me, as sign of your kindness, as sign that your torment has passed and that you might bear to see me again.

I will not come out of this study, I shall remain here with my guilt and foolishness, not sleep, not eat, only think, meditate; the rightful activity of any engaged mind, especially that of a young man with no ruling head.. Reflection shall cost me my sweat charmingly for the sake of redemption.

Harold Fowler

Mary reread the letter four times, her hands trembling slightly. Her perusal was so fast that she was sure she might have misread some words. Yet all was as she had suspected. She gave a great sigh as she sat on her bed. Georgiana sat still in the middle of the room, looking at her anxiously.

'Well?' she murmured at length.

Mary kept her face down, breathing slowly.

Remorse? Was it just a feeble flirt between him and Anne? He will leave his study soon I suppose. He could not possibly care about me. The entire point of this letter is to keep me quiet about his affairs. Is it not?

These thoughts swarmed in her head like bees and she could not make them go away as reflections such as these she turned into issues of conscience.

With a sudden movement, she tore up the letter in two.

'What are you doing?' Georgiana almost yelled.

Mary, not seeming to hear her, continued to tear it in four, eight…dozens of parts, until nothing was left of it, but a small pile on the floor. It resembled a tattered ship after the harrowing doings of a tragic tempest.

'Mary, why did you do that?'

She lifted her head and cleared her throat.

'So that no one else can read it.'

'Why should…'

'It was his request and I intend to respect it.'

Georgiana sighed and went to sit by her, not sure of what she should say or do.

'At least tell me he wrote a charming letter, presenting you with very reasonable excuses that make him as innocent as the unborn child.'

'I would not say so…but he has tried to give reasons for his behaviour towards Anne. They were not so artful as I predicted.'

'Not knowing more is a great disadvantage, pray tell me more, Mary.'

'I'm afraid I cannot…'

'I told you of Theodore, it is only fair…'

'You told me of him after I came across his unfortunate existence…'

'It does not matter…'

'Please, when the time comes, you shall be the first to know.'

Perhaps such countenance is not the rightful one for our heroine, considering her lack of experience in such matter. It could be said, dear reader, that she was rather naïve to conceal the truth and not entrust in the kindness of friends and family, but it must be understood that such pleasant companions might have troubled Mary more, rather than set her mind clear and at rest.

Georgiana, however, was a sensible creature who could wait, in patience, for Miss Bennet to make up her mind.

'It is not looking exactly well, is it? The bare facts remain…not even noble Adam Smith could help you disentangle this one, dear Sir.'

'I see…' Darcy frowned slightly as he sipped from his brandy.

'Worry not, however, I shall try my best to…'

'I already have a solicitor and two barristers dealing with the papers, but I thank you kindly, Mr. Prowler. You needn't trouble yourself.'

'It is no trouble at all. For a friend of Charles' I would gladly take the bother.'

'Trust him at his word, Darcy, it's quite his thing and the chap can do wonders,' Charles smiled complacently as he sat across the desk.

Darcy got up and without even noticing, started pacing the room slowly taking out a letter from one of his drawers; document which had clearly been read fifty times, at least.

'I have mentioned the situation to you Sir and I do not suppose you can give me a better answer than my fellow lawyers.'

Mr. Prowler paused and turned his chair towards Darcy's figure as he saw him standing near a ceremonious sculpture which was a clever likeness of Richard Bentley's bust.

'You own properties and land in London…that town is my breast-pocket, I know it quite better than anyone else and I can certify that when dealing with legal papers in London, you do not get out of it spick and span. You cannot…there are too many mutual interests to deal with. But…if you insist that the property is rightfully yours…then we shall see if that gentleman cooperates.'

'Just as I though then…the same reply given by all the other. No actions, only words. Then again, such is the pace in London.'

'Diplomacy is our best coin, at the moment, I am departing for London in two days, if you wish me to look into the issue, tell me so and I'd be more than happy to oblige.'

'Come now, Darcy, he is one of the best and there's nothing to lose. Your lawyers do not even dwell in ol' London,' Charles spoke with mirth. 'They might not know all the ins and outs…'

'Yes…now I am assured,' he added cynically. 'Very well then…'

Jane was in much better spirits, she had truly recovered and was quite ready to depart at any given time. Charles was still slightly uneasy and confused by the inability to find an answer, or at least some clue as to his wife's illness. The more he looked into it, the less he understood how liquor could have found its way to his wife's lips. Mr. Bennet, however, was quite alarmed by this event, though he showed this to no one. His anxiety enclosed his fear for his daughter's and the child's safety, but also his torment that there might be someone in their vicinity willing to harm Jane.

Meanwhile, the other sisters occupied their time as they found fit, awaiting the inevitable departure. Lizzie spent most of her day aiding the eldest sister with difficult tasks and keeping her entertained. However, she spared some afternoons for Kitty, as they discussed affairs of the approaching wedding. Such meetings were always "chaired" by Mrs. Bennet, who professed to be connoisseur in all matters of marriage and dowry.

'But mama, surely, he will not expect a substantial dowry. My Colonel cherishes me enough to consider me his treasure.'

'Pshaw! Naïve woman you are my dear! All men can love, goodness knows, even your father can "cherish" things. Why, he cherishes his chickens a great deal, did not you know?'

'Mother, stop putting such ideas into Kitty's head. My husband asked for no dowry at all,' Lizzie interrupted.

'Because he is in clover, my dear, it would have been a shame for him to ask for such a thing with ten thousand a year! But the Colonel…heaven knows, as decent a man as he is, he is no wealthy crafty fellow. He earned his bread fairly and gained his penny.'

'His fortune is enough to support us, mama,' Kitty spoke in bored tones as she played with the folds of her dress.

'You speak so now, but let me see you in twenty years when you have five daughters and…'

'And we shall be as efficient as you mama, in securing handsome and most agreeable partners to our reckless, innocent victims called daughters,' Lizzie spoke, trying to end the matter.

'Pah! You greet my words with laughter, well…'

'No one is laughing, mama,' Kitty added.

'Very well then, but irony is of no use here, I did secure you all great gentlemen. Now all I have left is Lydia to take care of, poor girl…'

'And Mary, mama, do not leave her out of your schemes.'

'Oh, I needn't worry about her…' she spoke wily.

'Why not?' Kitty asked interested.

'Well, for Pete's sake, she cannot simply refuse a man like Mr. Fowler. For sure, she has stirred his heart and a proposal might be on its way. I do not believe that small incident is to be given any consideration at all. For just a kiss…a man must be forgiven…and one does not know if that wicked Anne did not force the poor man…'

'Mama, this has already been discussed countless times.'

'What I meant to say was that Mary shall come to her senses soon and realise no better offer will ever be made to her in her life. I am certain of it and I am also certain Mr. Fowler will prove his superiority as partner by winning her attention and affection. For one thing she should be grateful…no other man would go to such lengths for as plain a figure as hers.'

Both ladies remained quiet as her mother mumbled such things to herself half-angry, half-pleased. Neither knew what to talk of so they returned to idling away their time.

'But as I mentioned, my poor Lydia will not be able to survive alone with a child. We could offer her all the support needed and I am sure all would love that bundle of joy, but the child needs a father. My, I wonder how you would have turned out without Mr. Bennet by my side.'

Lizzie raised her eyebrow. 'Is it so?'

'The influence of a man is paramount. In any case…where is my Lydia? I haven't seen her all day.'

'She's visiting Mrs. Woble again,' Lizzie intoned cynically. 'I think she has found her long lost twin sister.'

'Mrs. Woble?'

'You should be acquainted with her, mama, she came to dinner last Wednesday, unaccompanied by her husband and stuck to Lydia's arm and breast as if they were two peas in a pod. For the entire evening, they were completely immersed in their own prattle. Quite troublesome…' Kitty spoke rather annoyed.

'Oh, it's simply so that Mrs. Woble adores Lydia and agrees with everything she says. It seems as of late, she has taken all her advice and word for granted and now they both look quite vulgar in those long neck dresses and heavy purses in which they keep three pennies.'

'Lizzie!'

'Pardon me for my bluntness, I was raised to be outspoken, mama,' she smiled amused.

The day after Mr. Prowler left for London, the Bennets decided it was finally time to return to their quiet home. Some might expect a new event to have stopped their journey, a new adventure or tragedy to have rendered them incapable of leaving. Yet, nothing of the sort happened. In fact, the tedious affair was as interesting as reading a literary essay by Sir Richard Steele at midnight, at the light of a feeble candle.

Jane and Charles arranged their departure the day afterwards and the preparations did not take long since everything had been already prepared for their initial leave.

Mary was relieved to return home at last, yet she felt pained that she had to say goodbye to Georgiana, who had become a valuable friend. They promised to write to each other regularly, though Mary was not so sure she could deliver any interesting news from Longbourn.

Our heroine would be far away form Mr. Fowler and such thought made her look forward to arriving in Hertfordshire as soon as possible. What was in her heart exactly no one can describe, but she missed her solitude, her room and her quiet ventures into the land of old books.

Lizzie was sad to see them go, but quite tired from all the efforts she had made to be a presentable and honourable mistress of Pemberley. She wanted to run through the fields again, lie in the sun and go down by the river to wet her feet. Such schemes her mother knew nothing of and it was preferable they remained a secret.

No one could have been more distressed than Lydia, however. She called on Mrs. Woble and bade her write to her whenever it was convenient for her, or whenever there was gossip to be breached. Such care between the two made even Mary address a few cynical remarks to her sister. Lydia was deaf to them. Mrs. Woble was her staunch follower.

Mrs. Bennet was not at all in pain as she expected a wedding soon where she would see all her family reunited once more, an opportunity she would not miss. Her mind was fully occupied and shedding tears, embracing daughters, bidding adieus, were all too much for her.

No one asked of Mr. Prowler. Few people knew he had left the day before, but Mary wondered briefly, as the carriage pulled away and the gates were closed firmly, whether he was still in the meadows hunting for hares. She waved back at Lizzie who stood on the doorstep, smiling warmly.