Charlotte Lucas had yet to recover from that peculiar malaise that had been haunting her for the past year. Her friends would have been surprised to know that her unhappiness had not begun on the way to Norfolk where she had hired on as a governess, rather, on her return to Lucas Lodge where she had already spent six and twenty years of her life and knew very well what lay before her. She was not fool enough to expect to find what she was searching for in Norfolk though hope dies hard, but if there was any chance of finding happiness it would not be in Hertfordshire where there was no hope at all. To be sure there were four and twenty families living in the area but all the men were either married, too young, or in their dotage.

She had to finally accept a fate worse than death. She had become that despised creature, a spinster, and it was universally acknowledged that a plain woman with little to recommend her, must be a ridiculous, disagreeable old maid, and she had become all of that. She had refused Elizabeth's kind invitation to join her in London and had gone to Surrey instead, just so she would not be able to attend the weddings. Instead of enjoying a wonderful month in Town, then seeing two dear friends married to men they loved she'd opted to spend a month in the company of a much despised sister-in-law who whined constantly about her health and the child she was carrying. Her brother's wife had flitted continuously between complaints of being put upon, and stuffing her mouth with anything she could lay her hands on. She was now grossly fat and Charlotte's brother feared his wife would give birth to a water buffalo. That marriage was doomed to failure for her brother had chosen a bride who was adorable, flighty and ignorant of just what marriage entailed. Charlotte wondered where the poor deluded girl thought babies came from? She hazarded a guess that storks played some part, that is if she had ever read a German folk tale or had ever opened a book, for that matter.

Her stay in Surrey had been an ordeal made worse by the knowledge that she had no one to blame but herself. It wasn't that she begrudged Elizabeth and Jane's good fortune for she was delighted to see her friends so happily situated. It was her constrained spirits that had brought her so low and made her so unwilling to be in her friend's company. She had been able to mask her low spirits through the ordeal of Lydia's defection and Mrs. Bennet's death for it was perfectly acceptable for a good friend of the family to be teary eyed over the misfortunes of good friends. It was unlikely that the townspeople would be so charitable if she seemed to be weeping at the happiness of two such deserving young women.

Then too, there was the matter of Peter Postlewaite and the possibility that she might see him again in London. She simply wasn't up to it. Her mother was as bad as Mrs. Bennet had been when it came to marrying her children off. Of course, with a seven and twenty year old daughter still on her hands she had every reason to be anxious, but her constant mention of that young man and what a shame it was that he had left the area, didn't help Charlotte's mood. Her mother simply wouldn't accept the fact that a handsome young man with a large estate and an income of six thousand pounds might be in want of a wife but it was unreasonable to think that the wife he would choose would be plain Charlotte Lucas who had nothing to offer in return.

She had spent so many months with a mind full of turmoil thinking of the friends who had left her behind to begin a new chapter in their lives while she continued to read the same old pages of her own life. By early spring she began to realize that she had fallen into a trap of feeling sorry for herself and it angered her for it showed a weakness of character that she despised in others. She grew determined to throw off this mantle of gloom she'd be wearing for the past year and get on with her life. Once she reached that decision she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She was, after all, not without friends. She need not remain in Hertfordshire for the rest of her life. She had excellent references that were sure to procure employment as a governess. And better still, she had always been good friends with the Gardiners and they had promised to find her employment whenever she chose that course and assured her that in Town she would always be under their protection.

Now she had received another invitation from Elizabeth, this time to join her at Pemberley for the summer. From Kitty, she knew that her friend was deliriously happy yet her letters to Charlotte were almost detached when referring to her marriage. Charlotte knew Elizabeth well enough to sense the restraint in her friend's words describing her six month marriage and she knew very well that she was the cause of it. It was a delicate task to express happiness and not appear to gloat. She was thoroughly ashamed to think she was depriving her dearest friend of being open and honest about her joy. She would have to go to Pemberley or risk losing Elizabeth's friendship and that was unimaginable.

For the first time in many months she left the confines of Lucas Lodge in a cheery mood welcoming the bright sunshine of a May day feeling her spirits lift as she contemplated spending so many weeks with Elizabeth. She found her favorite tree and leaned against it munching on a pear as she perused this last letter seeing Pemberley through Elizabeth's eyes. Marriage had not dampened Elizabeth's enthusiasm or wit as she described still needing a road map to get around the great house or how she had gotten lost only twice while clambering around the peaks that surround Pemberley. She declared it a rumor that Darcy had locked her in her room while he hastily drew another map so he wouldn't have to send out a hunting party every time she left the house.

She was so engrossed and smiling so broadly at Elizabeth's silliness that she only vaguely heard the rider approaching and didn't bother to look up. It took her several moments before she became aware that the rider had not continued past. When she finally did look up she was shocked to see Peter Postlewaite sitting astride his horse in his usual relaxed posture staring at her with that wry smile that was so endearing. Despite her best effort she felt her heart quicken seeing him after so many months. Handsome enough to make a maiden weep was the refrain that crossed her mind as she offered him one of her own wry smiles. "And what brings you so far away from Sherwood Forest? I've imagined you and Robin getting up to all kinds of mischief in Nottinghamshire."

He laughed softly, "I'm afraid Robin and his merry men no longer have time for me or perhaps it's the other way around. They have all settled down to lead exemplary lives."

"They have exchanged merriment for marriage, perhaps."

"I would not have you think so, Miss Lucas. I'm inclined to think that they sought marriage as an addition to their merriment which is why I've traveled south. I've come to seek an addition to my merriment."

"Forgive me, Mr. Postlewaite, but you have never struck me as a very merry man. In any case, if you hope to find a companion who will give you some liveliness, I fear you have traveled down the wrong road. This path leads to Lucas Lodge and it's a dead end."

If he heard the bitterness in her voice, he didn't allow it to show. He dismounted and approached her. "Is your father home?"

"My father?"

"Yes, Miss Lucas. Your father. Your sire. The man of the house."

Charlotte eyed him with amusement, "I know who my father is, Mr. Postlewaite, though if it's really a companion you seek, you might think twice about choosing my father unless you wish an introduction to St. James's Court. Peter returned her smile and waited in silence. When it appeared he was not inclined to speak further, she was puzzled. She could not imagine why he would wish to speak with her father for no one with a modicum of sense ever sought an audience with her father unless he was a lover of absurdities. "You really want to see my father?"

"I do."

"But Mr. Postlewaite, must I remind you that he is a knight of the realm and a very important person in his own mind. It might take weeks before he could fit you into his busy schedule."

Peter's smile broadened, "I've missed your company, Miss Lucas, but I must insist on speaking to your father. If I'm to court you I must seek his permission first." In the deafening silence that greeted this statement Charlotte frowned and felt a momentary anger that he would tease her in this manner. Her second reaction was that he had taken leave of his senses. He shifted uneasily, "do you object, Miss Lucas?"

"Nothing much surprises me anymore, Mr. Postlewaite, but I must admit that you've caught me off balance." He seemed perfectly serious, but still, after his sudden departure the previous August she had tried to put him out of her mind determined to think of him as just a common and indifferent acquaintance though her heart had said otherwise. And here he was after so many months requesting permission to court her. She was at a loss for words.

"Have I displeased you?"

Charlotte hesitated for a moment, "No, you haven't displeased me."

Peter took a step towards her, "are you angry with me?" When she didn't respond, he spoke quickly, "I know I should have spoken to you before I left last August, but my life was in utter chaos. It wouldn't have been fair to you. I...I'm so sorry, Charlotte."

"Good grief, Peter! I am neither angry or displeased with you so please stop apologizing. Do you think me so empty headed that I mistook four dances and some lively conversation as anything but good social skills?"

"It was always more than that, Charlotte."

"Well, I commend you for keeping your thoughts to yourself."

They stood facing each other in silence until he reached out and took both her hands in his, "you are too generous to trifle with me. Tell me so at once. May I court you?"

"If you like," she managed, before realizing her response had been slightly ungracious. "I mean...that is to say..." She lapsed into silence until she saw the twinkle in his eye. "Oh, Peter," she sighed, lapsing into further silence stunned and in wonder that the course of her life could change it's direction with just a few words.

"I must speak with your father."

"That won't be necessary. I'm old enough to make my own decisions."

"Understood. But nevertheless, it's the proper thing to do."

"And do you always do the proper thing?"

"Yes." He pulled her into his arms, "until otherwise provoked."

He moved so fast that she had no time to react before she felt his mouth on hers. Charlotte's senses reeled as she received her first lover's kiss. When he finally released her he continued to hold her in a close embrace staring into her eyes. With difficulty she returned his gaze, trying desperately to make light of the situation, "we are on a pubic road, Mr. Postlewaite. The neighbors will be scandalized."

He did his best to suppress a smile and failed miserably, "We've wasted enough time, Charlotte. Besides, a scandal might cut our courtship in half."

She regarded him with some solemnity, "indeed it might. Father might even leave his easy chair and hunt you down."

"Then we should save him the trouble and seek him out first."

Fully expecting that she was still asleep and this was only a very pleasant dream she watched him tuck her hand in his arm and together they walked slowly up the hill towards her home.

During their trip north Mr. Bennet further instructed Kitty on how to deport herself at the various hotels they stopped at. He had found that strangers who had no expectation of ever seeing you again had a propensity to divulge personal secrets which they would never do to well known acquaintances. Why this should be Mr. Bennet had not a clue but he despised this proclivity and as a rule shunned his fellow travelers. Kitty was to be deliberately vague about her family, where their estate lay, and under no circumstances was she to mention her sister Lydia. "Just remember, Kitty, that you need not be rude, but just show some circumspection when speaking with strangers."

"Father, will you ever forgive Lydia?"

The look he gave his daughter was not without understanding, "Kitty, your sister brought humiliation and misery upon her family, not once but twice. Except for our reputation, the Bennets of Longbourn have little enough to recommend us. From what I can gather, both your sisters had already fallen in love. Can you imagine what they must have been going through knowing that few men would be willing to marry into a family who's youngest sister had brought such ruin and disgrace upon them? If Darcy and Bingley hadn't been the men they are, your sisters would now be suffering the greatest sorrow. And too, we would not now be traveling in this fine coach on our way to Edinburgh. Lydia's actions were a reflection on us all and might have changed the course of all out lives. Keep that in mind, Kitty, and save your sympathy for someone more worthy than your sister Lydia."

"Then you can never forgive her."

Her father sighed, "she will always be my child, Kitty. That will never change. Now read your book or take a nap and I will do the same."

In the comfort of their carriage the Bennets made the journey at an unhurried pace stopping as frequently as their weariness dictated for there was no urgency. Darcy had sent one of his under-stewards to aid in any problems that might arise at Longbourn and though it was left unspoken, there was little to draw him back to Hertfordshire. He had only one daughter left and at the age of eighteen she would be leaving next. The thought gave him little pleasure which surprised him. In recent months he had grown rather fond of Kitty for she had proved not to be as empty-headed as he had always imagined. Indeed, in recent months he came to suspect that she actually had a brain though she tended to use it in a sporadic fashion.

Dusk was upon them when they finally reached their destination and climbed down to gaze up at their home for the next four weeks. The hotel was on a grand scale but far from ornate. It exuded good taste and comfort and Mr. Bennet was pleased in his expectations of a pleasant month in what some were calling the Athens of the North. Kitty was even more than pleased as they approached the front desk and she laid eyes on the young man who stood behind the desk. She thought that she could stand there and stare at him for the rest of her life for he was tall and handsome, just what a young man ought to be. Unfortunately, the minute her father gave his name the young man disappeared behind some curtains and too quickly was replaced by a handsome woman who introduced herself as Mrs. Nederfeldt, the owner of the establishment. It was now Mr. Bennet's turn to stare in admiration for he thought she was everything desirable to a mere mortal man.

As he and Kitty followed her up the stairs to the second floor she spoke in a gentle voice with a faint American accent as she ushered them into large airy rooms that overlooked the city. "I do hope you find these accommodations to your liking, Mr. Bennet. These rooms are where Mr. Darcy stays when he visits. If there's anything you require, please don't hesitate to ask. We have an excellent restaurant which will be open at six for the dinner service."

"No haggis, I hope," said Mr. Bennet, regretting his lame joke immediately.

Mrs. Nederfeldt turned an amused eye on him, "I fear the hunting season for haggis is long past, however we do have other amusements. Every night we hold a guest-only dance in the east wing." And with that, Mrs. Nederfeldt left the room leaving behind a scent of wild flowers and a very bemused Mr. Bennet.

Most of the women of his acquaintance who were of a certain age were loud and if not loud, exceptionally stupid. It was one of the reasons he had never even considered straying from his vows. That he would find himself instantly attracted to a woman he did not know was interesting. He thought prurience was well behind him but it seemed that it was still alive and well and the thought brought an amused smile to his face.

"What kind of animal is a haggis?"

"If I remember correctly Kitty, it's oatmeal and offal boiled in a stomach."

"They have a hunting season for that?"

Mr. Bennet sighed heavily, "go rest your brain of a while and if you're a good girl I'll take you to the dance after dinner."

After a short nap followed by an excellent dinner father and daughter were in good spirits. Mr. Bennet was really not in the mood to attend a dance fearing it would be a raucous affair much like the affairs at Meryton, but this was to be as much of a vacation for Kitty as himself so he acquiesced to Kitty's silent plea.

As they advanced down a long hall soft sounds of a string quartet could be heard. They entered a mid-sized, beautifully appointed room and were immediately approached by the young man who they had met briefly at the front desk, "My mother asks if you would care to join us at our table," he said.

"Your mother?"

"Permit me to introduce myself, Mr. Bennet. My name is Jonathon Nederfeldt. My mother owns this establishment."

Mr. Bennet was not overly flattered by the invitation for he assumed that it was part of the service if one happened to be the father-in-law of Fitzwilliam Darcy, but he was perfectly willing to take advantage of the connection. "We'd be honored, sir."

The evening proved to be pleasant and entertaining for both Bennets. Jonathon introduced Kitty to some close friends of his who were staying for a month. David Sutcliff was another young man of pleasant visage and his sisters, Reine and Clair, were eager to be friends. All four young people seemed to be both intelligent and amiable and Mr. Bennet had no qualms in allowing Kitty to join them at their own table though he still kept an eagle eye on his daughter.

"Your daughter is in very good hands, Mr. Bennet. The Sutcliffs are a very respectable family and my son will see that no harm comes to her. Mr. Darcy would never forgive him if it did."

"You've known Mr. Darcy for long?"

"About fifteen years. A quiet and shy little lad and for some strange reason my son who is quite the opposite in temperament, attached himself to him though he was but eight years of age. Jonathon had never met a thirteen year old boy who was so quiet and a complete gentleman before."

"And how did Mr. Darcy respond?"

Mrs. Nederfeldt laughed softly, remembering, "Young Master Darcy regarded Jonathon with perplexity. He had a way of frowning which I thought was disapprobation, but soon realized it was just his way of trying to decipher a puzzle. I suppose he couldn't understand why Jonathon would decide they were best friends and follow him around like a puppy dog."

"And he allowed it? That's quite remarkable."

"What was remarkable was that within a month Jonathon received a letter from Mr. Darcy describing the trip back to Derbyshire and his feelings upon seeing his home again after being away for so long. Jonathon allowed me to read that first letter. Mr. Darcy showed a wisdom beyond his tender years but what most impressed me was his love for his ancestral home. He didn't take Pemberley for granted and voiced his concerns about the responsibilities he would shoulder one day. Of course he thought he would have plenty of time before that day would come. I was very saddened to hear that his father had died just after he left Cambridge."

"What of his mother?

Mrs. Nederfeldt couldn't mask her surprise, "she died two years earlier when he was just eleven which made the untimely death of his father so poignant. Anyway, Jonathon was quick to respond and their letters continue even today. Mr. Darcy returned to Edinburgh twice during the next few years and each time encouraged Jonathon to study hard and read anything he could get his hands on. Eventually letters from Cambridge began to arrive describing in minute detail the life of a college man. It didn't take long before my son had made up his mind to study at Cambridge though there is an excellent college here in Edinburgh. Have you been to Pemberley, Mr. Bennet?"

"No, not yet. Kitty and I plan to spend a few weeks there when we leave here."

It sounds like paradise on earth. I'm sure you'll enjoy your visit."

Mr. Bennet's reaction to this tale was surprise with a touch of shame. This woman knew more about his son-in-law than he did. Unwilling to continue a conversation that would reveal his own deficiencies, he abruptly changed the subject. "So, tell me about this beautiful city, Mrs. Nederfeldt and what must I see to merit this long journey from the comfort of my study."

That evening was the first of many that Mr. Bennet enjoyed in the company of Mrs. Nederfeldt while Kitty began a new chapter in her life. As young people will, she had made fast friends with the Sutcliffe girls particularly with the youngest one, Reine, who reminded Mr. Bennet of his own Jane. She was gentle and sweet, and Mr. Bennet could not ask for a better companion for his daughter. As for Clair Sutcliffe, she reminded him of Elizabeth with her lively disposition and inquiring mind. Instead of prowling the streets for a sight of a redcoat, the three girls had headed straight for Arthur's Seat to enjoy a spectacular view of the city. Picnicking on an extinct volcano was the most exciting adventure they had ever had and all three of the girls were eager to share the experience with Mr. Bennet. To his delight the three girls invariably joined him at tea time for some lively discussions and to his secret amusement Kitty seemed perplexed that her new friends would find the company of her father so enjoyable. To his further amusement he sometimes caught his daughter eying him with interest. He sincerely hoped she would now consider finding a husband who had a brains and wit and didn't wear a redcoat.

Within a week he began to join Mrs. Nederfeldt for an early breakfast which became one of the highlights of his day. It was always with regret when she had to leave his company to attend the task of running a successful business, however he had a beautiful city to explore and he made the most of it. He spent long hours walking through the medieval streets searching out the myriad bookstores and art galleries, often spending time at a small cafe and sitting on it's outside terrace watching the world go by. In Hertfordshire one day slid into another with a sameness that was mind-numbing. Here in Scotland three weeks had passed so quickly he wondered how on earth he had gotten to this place in time and how he could return to Longbourn and pick up where he had left off. Secluding himself in his study no longer held the appeal it once had. He had never thought of himself as a lonely man but these weeks past had proved otherwise.

Evening brought the best part of the day. He'd forgotten the joy of dining with an intelligent and very beautiful woman who had the ability to make him laugh. With one week to go before returning to England Mr. Bennet began to think about extending his leave from Longbourn. He thought he might broach the subject to Mrs. Nederfeldt that evening and try to gauge her reaction. If she showed some enthusiasm...if she received this news with one of her enchanting smiles, he might extend his holiday for a week...maybe even a month.

When he entered the dining room with girded loins, so to speak, he felt a mild disappointment not to see her at their table. Instead, he was met by Jonathon who extended his mother's regret that she wouldn't be able to join him for dinner but hoped to see him at the dance later that evening.

"She is not ill, I trust."

"Not at all. She's been busy with her advocate and property agent ironing out the final details."

"The final details?"

"Yes, Mr. Bennet. Mother has sold the hotel. She signed the final papers this afternoon. She's hosting a celebratory dinner in her quarters."

An old Scottish proverb kept running through his head as he tried to enjoy his meal: "Egotism is an alphabet of one letter". She was so interested in him that she had failed to mention she was selling the hotel; so interested that she hadn't bothered to invite him to this celebratory dinner. For all he knew she was planning to return to America. There was another proverb known in any language: "There's no fool like an old fool". There would be no delaying their trip back to England. It would probably be better if he left early...like tonight. He finished the bottle of wine and returned to his room where he consumed several brandies before dropping onto the bed to snore the night away.

He rose late the following morning feeling like a fool; an infatuated old fool. He was besotted, enamored and suffering from the worst hangover he'd ever had in his life. He'd already missed breakfast so he decided to spend the entire day in his room trying to concentrate on a book while trying not to sulk. Unfortunately thoughts of Margaret Nederfeldt kept intruding. He kept asking himself what possible difference could it make that she had sold the hotel but the answer was always the same. He knew next to nothing about her or where she might go. His instruction to Kitty came back to haunt him. Never speak of the personal to a stranger. He had adhered to his own advice and found that Margaret was even better at staying on neutral ground. He knew only that she was an American and a widow and he had learned that from Darcy.

After his bath and while the hotel barber tried to make him look human he considered the situation. He must retain his dignity at all costs. He was heartened by the fact that he hadn't made any overtures that would have been rebuffed. Though he was sure she recognized his admiration he was also quite sure she was used to men appreciating her beauty and treated it as her due and nothing more. She was beautiful with those copper tresses framing a perfect oval face; her sweet and gentle laughter; her dainty figure; her white shoulders. He commanded his thoughts not to go any lower than her shoulders. The more he thought on it, the more he understood just how ridiculous his aspirations had been. It was not love he felt, but simple lust.

That settled, his course was clear. He would be cool but not distant, nonchalant but not sullen, interested but not overly so. He just hoped she hadn't noticed that he had not joined her for the dance the night before. That is, of course, if she had deigned to bother with a simple dance considering how busy she was with her celebratory dinners with old friends.

"I missed our dance last night," said she as he took his place at their table that evening.

"I'm afraid I got so engrossed in my book I let time get away from me." The perfect tone! "Besides, I knew you were busy and probably wouldn't miss me." Stupid! Petulant schoolboy!

She eyed him with some amusement, "I didn't until I was half- way through the dance and realized I was missing a partner."

Oh, but she was charming, damn her! "I suppose it would be scandalous if we made up for it by dancing twice this evening?" He held his breath.

"You surprise me, Mr. Bennet. I did not think you a dancing man."

Teasing woman! "I would much prefer to talk as I think you know."

"Then what shall we talk about? Kitty tells me you live near a village called Merrietown? Is it very merrie?

He laughed hardily, "it's Meryton. I think it was named after one of our queens, but no one knows for sure."

"Surely not the bloody one. I've heard you English have a quaint sense of irony but naming a village after a mass murderess is surely most indelicate."

He knew he was grinning broadly but couldn't help himself. "You remind me of my daughter, Elizabeth. She could always make me laugh."

"And does she make Mr. Darcy laugh?"

"Occasionally. But mostly he smiles a lot."

"Then they will be very happy."

"And were you happy in your marriage?"

He could have bitten his tongue for the audacity of such a personal question but her only reaction was a slight shrug, "In the beginning, yes. I came to Europe with my parents and a younger sister. We stayed in London which was where I met Fredrick Nederfeldt and instantly fell in love." She allowed a faint smile, remembering. "He was five and thirty and the handsomest man I had ever seen. Mind you, at the age of eighteen I had little experience with men but knew in my heart that I could not live without him. Fredrick was heir to a small estate in England and was expected to live out his life as a gentleman farmer, but there was no challenge in that kind of life so on a whim he bought this hotel which was about a third the size it is now. He kept buying property and expanding until it was as you see today. He had something to prove to his father, you see."

"And was his father impressed?"

"He was disappointed, but very proud of his son. So was I. It was so exciting in the beginning. We were madly in love and working side by side to build the finest hotel in Edinburgh. It didn't matter that I had gained my father's disapproval and broke my mother's heart for they had much loftier plans for me. I was to marry a rich man and become a grande dame of New York society. Instead, there I was working in Scotland, married to a tradesman."

"There are class distinctions in the Americas?"

She eyed him with a wry smile, "we humans must always find a reason to feel superior whether it's upstairs or down."

"That's true. But tell me, how did your fairytale end?"

Once more she shrugged those beautiful shoulders, "with obsession. He had no time for me or Jonathon, only with this property and further expansions. There was never any time to enjoy the fruits of our labor; no time to take Jonathon to Cambridge and see him settled in. That was left to Mr. Darcy who found suitable quarters for him, saw him through admission's week and encouraged him to make the most of it. For that I will always be grateful to him."

"You must have been very unhappy."

"I was more unhappy for him. It seemed like a wasted life. We were wealthy and the hotel had gained a wonderful reputation. I wanted to see London, Paris and Rome. I wanted to bring back the passion that we'd felt in the beginning. And then he grew ill and died. End of story."

"Perhaps a new beginning."

"Perhaps. I tend to think only of the past as its remembrance gives me pleasure so I will never forget the past but I won't let it dictate my future. For the first time in five and twenty years I'm an independent woman in charge of my life and as soon as I get used to it, I'm going to love it."

"Will you go back to America?"

By way of answer she said, "I have several options open to me. Returning to America is one or them, I suppose." That said, she glanced around the room with fondness nodding at several diners, "I will miss this life, I confess. I've met some wonderful people and made many friends along the way. My life is about to change drastically. I'll have to get used to living a quiet life. And you? Where do you go from here?"

She had been more open with him in the last few minutes than the last month but now he sensed her withdrawal and he responded with an answer as evasive as hers had been. Two days later he and Kitty headed south then east towards Derbyshire where they planned to spend a further few week. He was inclined to think that he would have been better off if he had never laid eyes on Margaret Nederfeldt.