A/N: I'd like to give a little shout-out to my latest protégé, and by that I mean someone who sent me a beta story and I liked it and I contributed absolutely nothing. Take a look for Family Traditions by igordon and welcome a new writer to the fold.

Also, one of the reviewers threw down the gauntlet this morning, or more likely threw down the calfskin kid gloves with white stitching and seed pearls, but you get my drift. You will see I am not a man to be intimidated by challenges, so here is my response.

The bell was fairly annoying, but I suspect that was because I knew I was about to get a tongue lashing. I had endured more than one in my life to date, and expected to endure more than one in my future, starting with this next delivery. I had never felt like I had much luck in life. My papa left home when I was three, and did not leave much for mama and me. His empty bottle of booze was nowhere near as useful for a three year old as you might surmise, and even now at sixteen, I still found its utility limited.

The maid of all work looked me up and down with a critical eye, but mostly she just looked annoyed with the quality of her day. I was just the latest challenge, so I assumed the master or mistress of the house was being difficult, or perhaps they had visitors. Actually, I knew for a fact that they had visitors, since my express was for one of those selfsame chuckleheads.

After giving her the name of my delivery, she bade me wait in the entry hall and entered the parlor with the same look I imagine she would use to enter a pit of snakes, and spoke to a group of ladies and gentlemen I saw sitting around a small table.

"Mr. Darcy, you have an express, sir."

A tall man got up from the table, with what I imagined was a relieved look, so perhaps the two women or the other gentleman were what constituted the snake pit; although to be honest, he could just as well have been the snake and the rest of them were mongooses.

"You have a message?"

The man was certainly tall, and I imagine with his fine clothes, obvious wealth, and gentlemanly manners he probably would have the ladies falling all over themselves over him for a century… maybe even two. He could certainly look down on any man of lesser worth with the greatest of ease.

Unfortunately for his ease, I was as tall as a mountain and I looked down on him from a height sufficient to be able to comment on the small bald spot forming on the very top of his head if I so chose, but I was in enough trouble as it was.

"Mr. Darcy, I have a reply for you, but I must make a confession."

At this point, he said the oddest thing.

"My good man, you have rescued me from the most uncomfortable quarter hour of my life, so unless you plan to tell me you just burned down that great estate a half mile up the lane, you have nothing to fear. Even that might be forgivable if my aunt was inside when it went up. Did you burn down Rosings?"

I probably should have been startled by such a statement, but my father's booze bottle had not in fact been empty when I was three, and I may have had a few difficulties growing up. Some girls would giggle over my great height or awkward manner and I would get red. Some boys would laugh, so I would bust their heads. Sometimes, it seemed I would have to fight my whole life through. This man was saying things that made not the slightest sense, but a man such as me rarely encountered anything that made sense, so I was not alarmed. When it came right down to it, the regular mail was nearly as fast as an express rider, so anybody who hired me was already at a disadvantage when it came to sensibility, but I accepted their rush, since life is not easy for a boy such as myself.

In the end, I decided I had better come clean while he was clearly in a good mood.

"No sir, I did not burn down the estate but I am at your service if that is your desire."

He just chuckled, and said, "Ah well, probably for the best if we leave it standing. My valet would be vexed with me if I allowed all my clothes to burn."

I thought I had best get on with my true confession.

"Mr. Darcy, I must confess that my horse spooked on the way into town with your last letter and dumped me off a bridge and into a stream. I am afraid your letter may have been damaged. I delivered it as instructed anyway. The gentleman seemed excited but not perturbed, so perhaps it was not badly damaged, but I thought I must come clean. Here is the reply."

I just stood waiting for the man to explode, but he simply grunted as if this was only the last in a series of unfortunate events, or perhaps he was quite accustomed to his letters going into the stream. For all I knew, his fortunes may have changed and he might be glad his friend could not read the letter.

I thought I should get all of the bad news out at once, so I added, "Also sir, on the return journey, I threw a shoe so I have been delayed by around four or five hours."

He just grunted noncommittally; as if this were such a minor setback it was of no note, and tore open the envelope. He then said, "Did you fall in the stream with this letter, or mine?"

I said, "Yours, sir. This one was written that way to start with."

He just shrugged his shoulders and gave me a coin, saying, "I thank you sir. You have at least saved me from that room for a few minutes, so I am in your debt."

Then he turned back to return to the snake pit, and said, "Go to the kitchen at Rosings and tell them I asked you be fed, and return in a few hours. We shall see if you can manage to get the next note to its recipient in one piece, shall we?"

"Yes, sir"

"And, probably best if you did not burn it down, regardless of the temptation."

"Yes, sir"

It was the strangest setdown of my life, but I had no reason to question my good fortune. I thought I might take him up on his offer of supper, but first I would go to the tavern and get myself a brew. Life ain't easy for a boy like me.