Author's Note: Apologies on the lack in updating the past few days. I normally hate long pauses between chapters because I don't want anyone to forget the story is there. A family member of mine had to have surgery and was just released from the hospital yesterday. Now that I am back at home, I intend to keep the updating fairly regular once more. I hope that everyone is still interested and can't thank all of you who have reviewed enough! Thank you SO VERY MUCH! Great and wonderful wishes to all. Please R&R!

Fitzwilliam Darcy…

The ballroom behind Darcy haunted him now as he followed his aunt through the house towards a sitting room he had come to view as her 'study.' If Ann had ever been whipped a day in her sickly life, then Darcy was convinced that Auntie Catherine had done it here. He straightened up as Catherine DeBourgh turned toward him suddenly.

"Fraternization doesn't become you, nephew." Catherine remarked as she perused him with an expression that almost denoted disgust. Will cringed. The woman couldn't be that arrogant! Was that the way everyone viewed him as well? Belatedly, he realized that it probably was. Darcy shrugged.

"Fraternization, auntie?" He asked smoothly in a tone that brooked no argument. He had long ago outgrown her need to lecture anyone her junior, especially those she felt needed the little 'nagging' sessions. He had too much on his plate right now to try and swallow down whatever bitter medicine she had in store. She looked him over pointedly.

"Don't patronize me, Fitzwilliam!" She cried out as he lifted a brow at her sardonically. Fitzwilliam, huh? He knew what using his name meant and he braced himself for the onslaught. She stalked toward him and poked him decidedly in the chest before pacing back toward an antique desk.

"She's American and the daughter of two flagrant people who refuse to work for God's sake!" His aunt cried out as Darcy sighed. He might as well let her get it out of her system.

"Caroline talks too much." Darcy remarked before leaning back casually against the wall behind him near the door. It seemed impossible for the woman to insult him for something he hadn't even done. She made dancing seem like a crime, a vulgar act. Maybe, in their case, it had been.

"It was the waltz, auntie. I wasn't using your house for 'fraternization.'" Darcy pointed out as Catherine 'hrruummmphed' underneath her breath.

"Whatever that was or whatever it started out as, nephew, that was, by no means, the waltz! You cannot possibly be attracted to that sort of woman." She exclaimed as Darcy covered his mouth to keep from chuckling. That sort of woman? For some reason, he could envision Ms. Elizabeth Bennet cramming the fact that they no longer lived in the day of Hawthorne's Scarlett Letter down his aunt's throat. And that thought almost made him chuckle. It was an inappropriate thought at that. As for the waltz, well he had to admit that the steps of the dance and the dance itself had changed as they had argued. He seemed to be losing his sense of decorum. Maybe his aunt was right. He did need this talk after all in order to put things into perspective. What the hell was he doing? He nodded.

"I'm not attracted to her, auntie. I apologize if it seemed to be anything but a professional need to help someone out. You're right, I need to watch how I pursue my ambitions." Will admitted as he shifted into a position that denoted his intention to leave the room. He was done discussing this matter with his aunt. Catherine seemed reluctant to leave the conversation at that but one look at her nephew's face and she knew that continuing it was pointless. She waved him out the door, stopping him only a moment with her hand as she looked up at him arrogantly.

"Just remember who you are, nephew. Remember the people that depend on you. Remember your family." She whispered as Will looked down at the hand that now lay on his arm in a firm gesture that seemed to convey her fears. Darcy's eyes narrowed.

"Did what you walked in on in that ballroom really seem that inappropriate, auntie? Do you really feel such a need to conjure up familial obligation because of one woman?" He asked her suddenly with conviction as she peered up at him with a certainty that almost shocked him.

"You have no idea." She muttered as she brushed past him into the hallway. Darcy watched her go silently before walking over to the stairs. It was bad enough that he would be facing Wickham the next morning, the very man who had threatened his corporation, who had abused his father's generosity and hospitality. Enough was enough. And now, he had Elizabeth Bennet sleeping just down the hall from him and for some reason that disturbed him and his dreams. He didn't need these complications. Maybe it was time he considered taking a high society wife. Caroline was more than willing despite his reluctance to even think about her in that capacity. His ex-girlfriend was also in town and she would be going back to Britain by the end of the week as well. Stephanie. She was a perfect choice for a bride—demure, poised, and demanding when the need arose. She was also quite good in other areas as well. Why then could Darcy not get that blasted brown-headed hellion Ms. Bennet out of his head? Yes, it was definitely time he paid a visit to Stephanie.

Walking now past the bedroom inhabited by Ms. Bennet and Ms. Houston, he tapped on the door firmly.

"We leave for work first thing in the morning. Seven o' clock sharp. Do not be late!" He commanded at the closed wood before walking away. He stopped as Elizabeth's voice floated through the material, and he let himself smile slightly. He was pretty sure she had just referred to him as a 'big buffoon!.'