A/N:

Thank you again for reading and reviewing. I was worried that you might find Elizabeth too ridiculous to need over 4000 words to be convinced to take a job. But no one has complained so far. If you do think the chapter drags, I would like to know about it. I am spending an inordinate amount of time shortening the chapters. If you think it is not necessary to shorten, then I won't!

I just finished the first draft of the epilogue. So the likelihood of the entire story being posted eventually looks pretty good.

Finally, a chapter note about the White Rose of the House of York: This has to do with the Wars of the Roses in the 1400s, a series of civil wars in which Mr. Darcy's ancestors lost everything. It was a complicated and bloody mess. The fighting factions (called cadet branches) were the Yorkist (white rose) and the Lancastrian (red rose). Henry Tudor (the red and white Tudor rose) won in the end and united the country. He pacified the Yorkist by marrying their heiress, Elizabeth of York. The explanation here is strictly FYI and not required for following the story.

The estimates for the value of the books given here are based on the prices of actual book collections sold during this time period. For the readers who feel that Mr. Bennet was a lazy bum, who did not save for his daughters, the sale price of the books is equivalent to putting 3000 pounds in the funds at 4% for 28 years. The copy of the first-edition Canterbury Tales, if kept till the present day, could fetch at least $10 million, figuring in inflation as a similar copy was auctioned off in 1998 for 4.6 million pounds. So Mr. Bennet was quite a savvy investor without knowing it, as he claimed himself.

One last thing: in this chapter, a job is mentioned for the Colonel that is worse than that of a chambermaid, In my opinion.

Chapter 8

Mr. Gardiner was all smiles when he came out of the office where he and Mr. Peters had been haggling over pricing.

As soon as the visitors had left, Mr. Gardiner said exuberantly to Elizabeth, "Lizzy, Mrs. Trumbull has purchased the entire collection for nine thousand pounds! That is at least a thousand pounds more than the auctioneers' estimates, and because this was a direct sale with no middlemen involved, I have also saved on the commission. You girls will have much more than I had thought for your future!"

"Oh, Uncle Gardiner, this is good news indeed! Why do you think she paid so much more than what the auction houses predicted?"

"Items like rare books do not have an actual intrinsic value. It depends on what the purchaser thinks the books are worth to them. Auction houses have more experience with doing an evaluation like this, but even they told me the proceeds could come in much higher or lower than the six-to-eight-thousand-pound range. As soon as we had entered my office, Mr. Peters asked me outright what return I expected from the auction. I took a risk and told him what I believed it would gross. That was when he offered nine thousand pounds if I canceled the auction. I could hardly maintain the stoical face I have perfected for negotiations. He then drew up all the papers for me to sign and handed me a bank draft for the entire amount! The rumor of Mrs. Trumbull having sold her late husband's businesses for half a million pounds must be close to the mark; and even with that much wealth, she would not have spent such a large sum unless there was something in the collection she desperately wanted."

"Perhaps I could ask her myself…" said Elizabeth thoughtfully. She paused, realizing that, in her own mind, she had already accepted Mrs. Trumbull's offer to be her companion.

Before he could ask questions, she explained, "Uncle Gardiner, Mrs. Trumbull offered to me the position of companion. I told her I had to discuss with you because papa…"

After taking a deep breath to suppress the all too familiar urge to weep, Elizabeth recounted her conversation with the rich heiress.

Mr. Gardiner looked at Elizabeth in awe and exclaimed, "Lizzy, this is an extraordinary opportunity! The Trumbulls' gatherings were renowned in the city for attracting distinguished artists and the best minds in Tory politics. The late Prime Minister, Mr. Spencer Perceval, General Wellesley, and the famous painter, Mr. Thomas Lawrence, were regulars.

"If Mrs. Trumbull thinks you are the ideal person to help her manage her soirees, then you will have made your father proud! I am certain he would have encouraged you to accept. If you must honor your father's last wish to the letter, you could refuse the monetary compensation. The extra one thousand pounds she for the book collection is a more than fair compensation for your assistance to her."

The incredible privilege of entering elevated circles finally sank in. However, she remembered the reason for her reservation.

"What about Lydia? Mrs. Trumbull could not possibly be willing to have her name tarnished by associating with me."

"Lizzy, you are not important enough to cause any harm to Mrs. Trumbull's reputation. Besides, you are by no means obligated to tell her anything about Lydia. For all we know, Lydia could have gone on a holiday without telling her family. If she left Brighton with a man, no one witnessed that event. There might also have been a chaperone. We must not think the worst of her until we know more.

"Even if such a scandal was proven, you need not tell anyone about it. In a small village like Meryton, what happened to Lydia was noteworthy and caused people to gossip because they have nothing better to do. Here in London, people are too busy to notice an ordinary little girl running away from home. I am not being cold-hearted or facetious. It is the truth. Even the Prince Regent's scandalous antics do not always cause a sensation. Did you not just tell me Mrs. Trumbull herself had eloped? I cannot say I heard anything about it because it did not happen in London, and the Trumbulls were not as prominent as they are now. I wager even among your own acquaintances, there are secrets that could erupt into scandals if they became known."

Mr. Gardiner's comments made Elizabeth think of Miss Darcy. It became instantly clear that her uncle was right. She also saw for the first time that Lydia's shame was Lydia's alone, and should not hang over her sisters like a gallows. She solemnly vowed she would look for her wayward sister the rest of her life, and she would forgive Lydia's actions, but she would not allow this to taint herself or her other sisters.

"Uncle Gardiner, if you think my family can do without the extra hundred pounds yearly, I think I should honor papa's wish by not taking compensation. I am indeed very excited about meeting the great minds of our time at Mrs. Trumbull's home, and I am humbled she thinks me worthy of this position. Could you send a note to Mrs. Trumbull informing her of the terms for my acceptance of her kind offer?"

"Of course, Lizzy! I am happy for you. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to see the world without having to travel."

"Uncle, what about my mourning?"

"Why don't we suggest to Mrs. Trumbull you begin your tenure with her when you enter half-mourning in a month? Meanwhile, Mr. Peters said his employer is staying at her country house with her three daughters. Brixton Park is just three miles from your cottage. Whether you are in London or her country house, you will not be far from family."

"'Tis a good plan, Uncle Gardiner. I shall do as you wish."

~.~

Meanwhile, in Salamanca, Colonel Fitzwilliam had gained enough strength that the cousins were preparing to travel in order for the Colonel to submit his request for leave to his commanding office, General Lord Wellington.

However, just as they were ready to set out, the General unexpectedly came to them.

The siege of Burgos had turned out badly. General Wellington ordered the army to retreat to Portugal via Salamanca. Fighting against a French army 80,000 strong with his own 65,000 was decidedly to his disadvantage. He refused to waste any English lives unnecessarily.

The pursuing French caught up with the British at Salamanca.

Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy went up to high grounds to watch the incredible sight of two enormous armies facing off in the same open fields where Colonel Fitzwilliam had been so grievously injured three months earlier. While the Colonel could not recall any military confrontation of this scale, Mr. Darcy was astounded how many men were willing, at the sound of the bugle call, to charge the opposing army and kill as many of their opponents as they were able. It was a sobering scene.

Fortunately, the French army chose not to attack, and General Wellington did not waste any time ordering the evacuation of Salamanca.

The cousins loaded the few remaining recovering soldiers into their small caravan and moved with the army to Portugal, where General Wellington intended to winter.

The allies' retreat to Portugal was arduous and fraught with danger. Mr. Darcy's group narrowly escaped capture by the pursuing French calvary. General Paget, General Wellesley's second-in-command, was a family friend of the Fitzwilliams and the Darcys. He rode over to their small contingent and urged them to make haste, as the French were coming fast. The next day, they discovered General Paget had been taken prisoner, along with many in his command.

Mr. Darcy, instead of feeling repulsed by the fighting or frightened by their narrow escape, experienced a kind of exhilaration he had never known. He felt useful and connected to what he believed to be an important moment in history. Back in England, viewing Bonaparte from afar, he had felt admiration for the military ruler, who had conquered a large part of Europe seemingly without effort and implemented a sensible code of law where there had been none. Having now seen the utter destruction of life and property in places where battles raged, he changed his mind about his erstwhile hero—Bonaparte was nothing but just another self-aggrandizing usurper with no regard for humanity.

Mr. Darcy felt energized that he was contributing to the eventual downfall of this ruthless tyrant.

Once the army had reached safety inside Portugal, Mr. Darcy helped his cousin with the logistics of the army's encampment. He offered everything in his possession to the troops—his physician, his men from Pemberley, his carriages and horses, and his money, which he loaned to the army until official funds arrived via the long and winding parliamentary process. With his ready cash, he organized food and fodder purchases from the surrounding countryside to feed the hungry soldiers and tired horses, and hired locals to carry out the essential services. He even went into the surgery ward to assist his physician in caring for the wounded.

When life at camp had calmed down sufficiently, Colonel Fitzwilliam asked to see the Commander-in-Chief about resigning his commission. He had had some doubts about yielding to Darcy's advice to give up his army career for good. However, since the retreat from Salamanca, he had to admit he could no longer physically shoulder the demand of a high-ranking military officer. Without Darcy's help, he would have been lost and unable to fulfill his assignment of matériel procurement.

"Colonel, let me commend you for your valor and outstanding tactics in the battle of Salamanca. Your leadership of the brigade after Le Marchant's fall was brilliant!" General Wellington was always generous in giving credit where credit was due.

"Sir, thank you. It is a pity I do not remember any of my own actions during that battle. As it happens, I lost five years' worth of memory when I fell from my horse."

"Shame! I have lost le Marchant, Beresford and Paget already. You would have been a strong candidate to fill le Merchant's position. This war is far from over."

"It has been an honor to serve directly under you, sir, but I am afraid my military days are over. I have come here to submit my resignation from the army."

"Resignation? I read reports that you have been laudable in speedily settling the troops and the animals for encampment. If we had had this kind of competence during the retreat, it would not have turned into such a disaster.

"I understand you would not be able to wield your saber in battle any time soon, but the army needs your organizational ability. I will recommend you to be head of battlefield logistics and make sure your contribution to the victory at Salamanca will count substantially toward your next promotion."

Colonel Fitzwilliam was proud that the General, who never doled out undeserved praises, wanted him to continue serving in his command despite his disabilities. He did not want to deceive the General, however.

"Sir, my cousin, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire, has been assisting me. Without his help, both physical and financial, matters here would not have gone so smoothly."

"Is that right? You lured Darcy the Pacifist to the battlefield, and he even involved himself in the business of fighting! Is he here? I need properly to meet the scion of the most peace-loving family in the entire Kingdom."

"Darcy is outside, sir." The Colonel was worried about the sarcastic tone in the General's speech. There was, however, nothing he could do to mitigate the impending clash between two outsized personalities: the most illustrious general in the land, accustomed to being revered, and his intensely proud cousin, who would stand up to any challenge to the honor of the Darcy name. His cousin had accompanied him because they thought the interview with the General would be brief, and they could then go on their way to secure conveyance for a pleasure trip through Portugal. How he now regretted this decision!

Instead of asking the Colonel to send for his cousin, General Lord Wellington walked out of the room himself to meet Darcy.

"Ah, Mr. Darcy of Pemberley!" called the General in his booming voice.

Mr. Darcy was watching with interest the hustle and bustle inside headquarters and did not expect to be called upon by the head of the army like an errand boy. He had met the General briefly for the first time soon after they arrived in the border town inside Portugal. However, things were chaotic then, and the General was in a melancholic mood because of the enormous losses during their retreat. In addition to a large number of casualties, thousands of troops remained unaccounted for. Many who made it back to camp were in poor physical condition because they had marched four full days through cold, pouring rain without food. For the first time in his life, Darcy experienced true hunger and intense cold. He was very worried about his cousin's well-being. Fortunately, the Colonel, though newly recovered from severe injuries, had built up his physical resilience through years of harsh military marches.

"Sir!" Mr. Darcy answered, lifting his arm as if in a salute but dropping it self-consciously. The only salutes he had ever executed were when he had played in boyhood war games.

Colonel Fitzwilliam relaxed when he saw the General walking up to Darcy and shaking his cousin's hand cordially. Even though the General was not large of stature, he had a larger-than-life presence.

"Mr. Darcy, I beg your pardon for not thanking you promptly on account of all you have done for the troops since we have arrived. They have high praise for the swiftly supplied food and provisions for both men and horses. I must commend you on your excellent organizational skills. Now that your cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam proclaims himself out of commission, could I persuade you to take his place serving in His Majesty's army? I understand your distaste for battles, but we need all the good men we can get to aid us in vanquishing Bonaparte!"

Mr. Darcy was unprepared for this sudden—without preamble—offer of a position. He worried about declining the offer, as he had heard the reputation of General Wellesley's fondness for having his way, always. Then he noticed the crinkled corners of the General's laughing eyes and hoped to disarm the ferocious warrior with some levity.

"Sir, my paltry attempt at easing the suffering of our brave troops is unworthy of your generous praise. Thankfully, the years of managing my estate have taught me some skills useful at this critical juncture. As for your allusion to the Darcys' aversion toward fighting in wars, that has not been the case for the last two generations. We simply have not had enough males in the family. We have had to make do with farming our lands as profitably as possible to pay into the government coffers to fund the war efforts. I have learned to be content basking in the glory brought home to England by warriors like your Lordship. I wonder how your Lordship's own eldest brother, Lord Mornington, endures watching the entire nation pinning their hopes on you, sir, to save us from the deranged ambitions of Bonaparte."

General Wellesley looked at Mr. Darcy with narrowed eyes, but Darcy stood his ground. Then the general burst out laughing.

"Darcy of Pemberley, I usually detest flattery, but I find no fault in yours! Well played!"

He then turned to the Colonel and said, "Fitzwilliam! Fortune favors us younger sons! And speak nothing of the balls we soldiers are privileged to enjoy between battles!"

The Colonel breathed a sigh of relief and just smiled and nodded in agreement.

"Incidentally, Colonel, your request for resignation is denied. I received a dispatch from Whitehall this morning—you have been reassigned to equerry duty for His Majesty beginning in March next year. You have also been given leave until you report for duty at Windsor. If you wish to squabble about this assignment, take it to Whitehall yourself. I am no longer your commanding officer. Dismissed!"

The General walked away, still chuckling.

The Colonel turned to his cousin, looked at him suspiciously, and asked, "Did you have a hand in this?"

Mr. Darcy put up both hands and shook his head. "Not at all, on my honor! I simply reported your physical condition to your father after I found you. However, before I left for this journey, I did hear your parents discussing positions suitable for keeping you safe in England."

"I wager you suggested posting me as an equerry during the discussions!"

Mr. Darcy again put up his hands to deny he had anything to do with the new assignment, but the Colonel put up his own hands to cover both eyes. He exclaimed, "I wish I were completely blind! I cannot bear having to wipe the royal arse!"

"Don't flatter yourself. You will be His Majesty's equerry, not his Groom of the Stool."

"Thank God for small mercies!"

The cousins left the camp three days later, foregoing the ball that was to be held in a week.

Ladies arrived from London, including the Duchess of Richmond and Lady Caroline Lamb. They would follow the army and did not waste any time organizing balls and dinners to make the warriors' lives gay and festive until the next battle.

In the middle of January, the cousins departed for England with cases of excellent port and art by notable Spanish and Portuguese painters. The Colonel's health had improved significantly. The new injuries incurred during the arduous retreat from Salamanca had healed completely. Although his memory of the previous five years and normal vision in his left eye had not returned, the vertigo and headaches had become scarce. He could also again maintain his balance while riding. He greatly exerted himself in this last endeavor because his cousin constantly teased him that His Majesty, known for his kind heart before he turned mad, would surely promote the horse-averse equerry to be a Gentleman of the Bedchamber.