Hello my dears! I've been sitting on this completed chapter for sometime now, hoping my Muse would push me to write more but... I guess with the recent release of Why I Kissed You on Amazon, she's taking a darn break. Ugh, I hate when she does that! Anyhoo, hopefully soon I can either write some more for this book or start another one, because to keep writing as my sole income, of course I need to write more books!

As mentioned above, Why I Kissed You is now available for purchase on Amazon in eBook, paperback, and hardcover. It is also available to read free for KU subscribers! If you enjoyed that story, please consider giving it another read, and maybe rate it and leave a review on Amazon. I would appreciate your continued support so very much.

And now, a little progress for our poor girls...

Chapter Nine

"Lizzy, you have shoes!"

Elizabeth chuckled over the cup of tepid tea she was drinking as her friend emerged, yawning, from the bedroom. "What a thing for you to notice, Maria," said she as she kicked out a slipper-clad foot. "But yes. Mr. Darcy was generous enough to purchase a pair of shoes as I requested. In fact, he…"

She paused and looked over to where the shoebox lay, the half boots still inside. Her cheeks began to warm as she remembered the note and considered the thoughtfulness behind the purchase. Darcy had never really struck her as thoughtful before.

"He what, Lizzy?" Maria prompted.

Standing, Elizabeth gestured for Maria to follow, then led her over to the table where the parcels had remained since they were brought in. "Mr. Darcy and his sister have purchased some items with which we might fill the hours of our seclusion until our fathers arrive. Miss Darcy said that she thought we might like to have something more to do than read, and that normal activities such as trimming a hat might help us feel better."

Her voice fell off as she noticed Maria's silent tears. Her friend sniffled as she reached to lift the lid off the top hatbox. "Oh Lizzy, look at this!"

Maria lifted a plain, but pretty, straw bonnet out of the box; already Elizabeth could imagine what it would look like with a ribbon around it, and perhaps a few false flowers.

"It is yours," said she. "I will take the other."

Maria looked at her. "Is it not unbelievable that Mr. Darcy would be so kind to us? He always seemed so…so proud and disagreeable when he came to Hertfordshire."

Elizabeth nodded as she moved the first hatbox aside and opened the other; it contained another straw bonnet, though this one had a wider brim than the first. "And when we saw him in Kent, he hardly spoke a word," she mused.

Well, except when he had proposed to her. Then he had said quite a lot, and most of it unpleasant.

They quickly opened the rest of the packages together. One of the boxes held sewing needles, thread, pins and pin cushions, and probably a dozen ribbons of various colors; there was also at least three yards of lace trim. Another box held what looked to be another dozen large squares of fabric, half of which were cotton and the other half muslin; these were clearly handkerchiefs just waiting to be decorated. The third box contained the sketch pads and drawing pencils, the fourth a dozen samplers with patterns marked for embroidery along with frames. The fifth box held a deck of cards and a backgammon set.

"Oh, Lizzy," said Maria. "This is too much. How will we ever repay him?"

"I suspect, Maria, that Mr. Darcy has no idea of being repaid," Elizabeth replied. "He is actually being kind to us simply because it is the right thing to do."

"Hmm…" Maria mused as she picked up the ribbons and began to examine them. "Do you not think it odd? He is being so kind to us, and yet he was so very unkind to Mr. Wickham."

Elizabeth drew a breath. She'd never told Maria what Darcy had revealed about his old friend in the letter—there'd never seemed a time to talk of it, especially when all her thoughts had been geared toward survival.

"Maria, I never had a moment to tell you that Mr. Wickham was not the gentleman—or injured party—that he claimed to be," she began slowly. "During one of our few conversations before he and Colonel Fitzwilliam took their leave, Mr. Darcy and I spoke of Mr. Wickham. I had long wanted to know why he disliked a man that all of Meryton thought so charming. He told me that the living Mr. Wickham spoke of was denied him because he had already given it up, stating he had no intention of ever taking orders as his godfather had hoped. He was even compensated for it with a large sum of money. I was also told he has a predilection for gambling and that he even tried to elope with a young lady for her fortune."

Maria's eyes widened. "Oh, that cannot be! He was so charming—I recall there was such an appearance of goodness in his countenance. When did you hear this?"

"It was a day or so, perhaps, before we left ourselves," Elizabeth replied, which was not so far from the truth. "Mr. Darcy also said that Colonel Fitzwilliam could verify it. I do not think he would invoke the colonel's name without confidence of the claims being supported."

"Well… Upon my word," said Maria. She selected one of the embroidery samplers, the thread and needle she would need, and the frame to stretch it, then went around to sit before the fireplace. Elizabeth watched her set the sampler into the frame, then sit and stare at it for a full minute without moving.

She started around the sofa. "Maria? Are you well?"

Maria started as though just noticing her presence. "Oh, Lizzy… I am quite well. I was just a little confused for a moment. I was thinking of what you just told me of Mr. Wickham, and as I had tightened my frame I…I suddenly forgot how to start. I…I can't seem to remember what I am supposed to do."

"Oh, is that all?" said Elizabeth with a laugh; she hoped it sounded more cheerful to Maria's ears than it did to her own. "I shouldn't wonder, it's been a whole year since you've taken up your needle. Really, Miss Lucas, you know what Lady Catherine de Bourgh says about practice!"

Maria looked at her with mild astonishment that quickly gave way to a quiet fit of giggles. Elizabeth smiled, relieved to see her feeling better, and in the next moment she sat beside her and helped her to get started. When the repetitive movements had reminded her friend of her own skill, she thanked Elizabeth and said that she ought to do well enough on her own for a while.

After patting Maria on the shoulder and offering a smile of encouragement, Elizabeth rose and went back to the table of gifts, looking for something with which to entertain herself. Her eyes fell on the sketch pads and drawing pencils, and though she really hadn't been inclined to draw before, she inexplicably felt the urge then to try. She took the items to the small table before the windows and sat down, then glanced outside to watch the birds in the reflecting pool. No, she mused. Too complicated for a beginner. Her eyes roamed the picturesque scene before her, and she found herself amused when of all things, the ivy that clung to the edge of the very window she looked out of caught her eye. Studying the way a particular part of the vine curled, she picked up a pencil and began to lightly sketch it.

The end result was not an exact match—and she had made prodigious use of the eraser she'd taken from the box—but she was impressed by how close she had come. Elizabeth decided to try again, drawing the vine and its leaves curling at different angles. Maria, after having risen to use the chamber pot in the bedroom, came to her side to have a look at what she was doing.

"That's actually very nice, Lizzy. And to think you never used to draw before," she said.

Elizabeth nodded. "You're right—I was never inclined to be artistic after it was determined that my skill at drawing people and animals was nonexistent. But I never really tried to draw plants, or inanimate objects like teapots."

Maria nodded as well, then her expression lit up a little as she gasped softly. "Oh, Lizzy—do not you think that a teapot with an ivy vine around it would look very pretty?"

An examination of both her drawings and the vine outside, then picturing different images in her mind, brought a smile to Elizabeth's countenance. "Actually yes, I think that would be lovely."

Her thoughts then turned contemplative, and she looked out the window again. "I was never inclined to draw," she said, "but being free again after the last year has made me realize that I took far too much for granted. Like the beauty of nature, or the ability to capture it with a pencil. I find myself thinking I do not wish to be the idle creature I was before."

Maria went over to the sofa and collected her embroidery, and she sat opposite Elizabeth at the table as she said, "I know what you mean. Besides feeling as though I really should find some way of repaying Mr. Darcy's kindness, I know I don't want to be just running about and laughing and flirting like I did before… Not that I'll have much chance of any of that when this little one comes along."

Thinking this might be the opportunity she was hoping for, Elizabeth put down the drawing pencil in her hand and held her hands together in her lap. "Maria, have you given any thought to going home? I mean, what it will be like for us."

Maria blinked, and color filled her cheeks. "A little."

"As have I. And I have been thinking… Do you remember how they always lamented not being allowed to bring slaves into England?" Elizabeth asked.

Her friend nodded. "Yes. They always talked of how a slave could be made to do anything, and they weren't allowed to fight back or complain like we did."

Elizabeth scoffed. "You mean like I did," she said. "The reason I ask is because… Well, I've been wondering what we might tell people when they ask—and it is inevitable there will be questions—what we were doing all the time we were gone. I… I had thought, perhaps, we might just say that we were made only to cook and clean, but then realized that won't do."

Maria looked down at her stomach. "Because of the baby."

"Yes," Elizabeth replied. "Have you… Have you considered that it might be more prudent for you to give it up? You'll have a much better chance of marrying—"

"Marrying?" cried Maria. "I'm not going to marry, Lizzy. Neither of us will ever be married now!"

Elizabeth rose and moved to Maria's side of the table. Kneeling before her, she grabbed the younger woman's hands and held them. "You're right—no man will want either of us if the truth is known for certain, which is inescapable if your parents allow you to bring your child home to Lucas Lodge. But if you give it up and return to Meryton without it, all our neighbors can do is speculate as to what happened to us. There would still be talk, of course, and I agree that even then the chances of either of us marrying are practically non-existent, but dearest, without the baby—"

Maria heaved an aggravated sigh. "It's all right, I understand you, Lizzy. With the baby I have no chance at all. Without it, I at least have a very slim chance. Though I cannot imagine who in Meryton would want me. And what about the scars? I haven't as many as you, but a husband would surely notice scars."

"The scars on your body, and how you received them, are between you and your husband and your physician—and if they are decent gentlemen, neither of them would discuss those scars with anyone else," said Elizabeth.

With her own sigh, she stood. "By no means do I intend to unduly pressure you, dearest. I only mean that you should take careful consideration of what is best for both of you."

A tear slipped down Maria's cheek and she hastily wiped it away. "I know you are right, Lizzy," said she. "It's just that… Now I've gotten used to the idea of being a mother, I don't know how I'll ever be able to give the babe away."

Elizabeth offered a sympathetic smile. "I cannot pretend to know how difficult a decision it is for you to make," she began. "I have also just recalled Mr. Darcy's promise to you, that he would see to it you had a home. So, I think your decisions now are whether you wish to remain here in Derbyshire with the little one, where there is less chance of being judged as no one here knows you; or if you really want to return home to Meryton with your father, without the baby you've come to love so much."

Maria looked at her with teary eyes. "Lizzy, I don't know what to do!" she cried softly.

Kneeling again and taking Maria's hands in hers once more, Elizabeth pressed them warmly. "Pray forgive me, Maria, it was not my intention to distress you. I only thought to make you think about your future, and whether or not this child absolutely must be a part of it."

Maria sniffled and raised a hand to blot her eyes with her sleeve. Elizabeth stood and went over to the box full of handkerchiefs; snatching one off the top of the pile, she hurried back to her friend and held it out to her. Maria took it and dried her tears and nose, before saying in a shaky voice,

"I have a very momentous decision before me, haven't I?"

Elizabeth nodded. "You do. But at least you've time to make it—Dr. Jones did say he believed you had six more weeks to carry the little one."

"Will whatever decision I make affect you?"

With a sigh and a nod, Elizabeth said, "I think it will. I am sorry to pain you or make things more difficult, but I do believe it will be the best for both of us that you leave the child behind if you wish to go home again. I think that our only chance of keeping the talk to a minimum."

Maria had just drawn a breath when there came a knock at the door; she looked up at Elizabeth with a startled expression at the sound.

"Who is there?" Elizabeth called out.

"Mrs. Reynolds," came the answer.

Suppressing a sigh, Elizabeth went over to the door; she unlocked and opened it with a questioning gaze at Darcy's housekeeper. "Yes, Mrs. Reynolds?"

"Mr. Darcy wishes to know if you and Miss Lucas feel up to joining him, Miss Darcy, and Dr. Jones for luncheon," Mrs. Reynolds replied.

"I…" Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at Maria, whose eyes were wide with alarm. Walking away from the door, she stopped before the younger woman and pulled her to her feet.

"Maria, I know it will be difficult for you, especially after your nightmare last night," Elizabeth said softly. "But I think we must begin to accustom ourselves to the presence of men. After all, our fathers are coming to Derbyshire, and I think it likely my uncle Mr. Gardiner as well. How are we to meet our relations with equanimity if we cannot even spend the length of a meal in the same room as our host?"

Maria bit her lip. "You are right, Lizzy. I know you are right, but I just feel so…"

"Maria, has Mr. Darcy tried to harm us since we came here?" Elizabeth asked. "Has he paid us—or tried to—the same vile attentions as the monster and his friends?"

"No, indeed. M-Mr. Darcy has been extraordinarily kind," Maria replied.

"I think it is important that we remember that. I think it important that we remember not only his kindness to us, but also the risk he is taking."

At this Maria frowned. "The risk, Lizzy? I do not understand."

"There is great risk to the reputations of both Mr. Darcy and his sister," Elizabeth explained. "After all, we are ruined in the eyes of society, and his sister is still a maiden. He would certainly face censure from the ton if they should learn we are here—no doubt our presence is already frowned upon by the servants."

"Begging your pardon, Miss Bennet," said Mrs. Reynolds from the doorway. Elizabeth turned to her, and she stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her. "I should like to put your mind at ease about the staff. The maids and footmen have been told that you are friends of Mr. Darcy who are in great need, and that is all—only Mr. Reynolds and I know the full truth, as my husband and I have been well aware of our master's aid in the search for you both almost from the day he learned you had disappeared. I will own to you as I did Mr. Darcy that I had my reservations when young Starnes brought you back from the cabin, but when I saw you last night…"

When she saw our bodies, Elizabeth mused as the housekeeper's voice died off. At the look of horror that flashed through the older woman's eyes, she felt a shudder go down her back. Indeed, who would have questioned them after seeing the hard evidence for themselves?

"I thank you for your candor, ma'am," said Elizabeth after a moment. "But do you not think that addressing my friend as Miss Lucas, given her condition, will raise some questions?"

Mrs. Reynolds nodded. "It may. But perhaps that is something Mr. Darcy will wish to discuss with you over the meal."

Elizabeth looked back to Maria. "What say you? I will go down regardless, as it is my duty as a guest to pay my respects to our host, but if you are truly not ready, then I will give Mr. Darcy your regrets."

Maria drew a deep breath, then looked over Elizabeth's shoulder at Mrs. Reynolds. "Will there be any footmen in the room? I-I think I may be able to withstand Mr. Darcy and Dr. Jones, but no more than they at present."

"Luncheon is served on a sideboard, same as breakfast," said Mrs. Reynolds. "There are usually a couple of maids or footmen to assist, but I will see to it that it will be two of the girls."

"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds, for your understanding," said Elizabeth.

Maria nodded her agreement. "Yes, thank you. I-I do feel that I shall be able to grow accustomed to being in the presence of good men if we start with just the two."

Mrs. Reynolds smiled a little. "Very good, miss. I will go and inform my master that you will both be joining him. Wait a couple of minutes after I have gone before you come down, that way I can ensure only Mr. Darcy and Dr. Jones will be there."

Elizabeth and Maria both acknowledged with a nod, and after explaining to them how to find the breakfast room, Mrs. Reynolds departed. When she had gone, Elizabeth went over to the desk and picked up the list of their injuries she had written in the early hours of the morning. She folded it into a square, then turned to Maria.

"I think I shall ring for a maid to come and clear the chamber pot," she said absently, even as she was turning away toward the nearest bellpull. When her hand reached for it, she saw that it was shaking.

"I had better go again before she comes," said Maria. "I'm so very nervous!"

"So am I," Elizabeth whispered as her friend hurried into the bedroom.

When a maid arrived, Elizabeth gave her a few simple instructions, then hooked her arm about Maria's and led her out of their suite. It took them some minutes more to get down two flights of stairs, but they at last made it to the breakfast room. When they arrived, Miss Darcy was at the sideboard, where two maids—Clara and Phoebe—stood ready to assist. Mr. Darcy and Dr. Jones were seated at one end of the table, and both men stood to bow upon their entrance.

"Ladies," said Darcy with a smile. "Welcome. Please, help yourselves to whatever you wish."