A/N: For those of you that aren't old enough or obscure enough or American enough or country enough to get the words in the last chapter, go to YouTube and listen to A Boy Named Sue by Johnny Cash. I don't know if I'm bragging or holding my head in shame, but I do have all of those lyrics in my head and did not have to consult a reference. I did it mostly because a reviewer said something about it, and in the end, I just couldn't resist.

There are a few questions about things in the story that don't make sense, so let me make a blanket explanation. You're lucky anything in this story makes sense. It's not quite as downright farcical as Seven Brandies, but it is intended to be more humor than anything else.

Mr. Darcy seemed quite relieved by the express rider at the door. In fact, he looked just about like a drowning man who suddenly sees a dozen men with soft nets ready to save him, standing next an inn with a comely serving lass holding out a fluffy towel in front of a warm fire, along with a bowl of beef stew a flagon of ale, and access to a quiet room that is entirely lacking in the voice of Miss Anne de Bourgh. Yes, he was quite relieved to leave the company of his teasing cousin, although, to the best of my knowledge, Mr. Darcy was entirely impervious to comely lasses; or perhaps, neither I nor anybody I knew fit the description. Yes, that was it. I was tolerable, but not comely. It all made sense.

Perhaps my flights of fancy take me a bit too far, but I had recently concluded that Anne was either a mad genius or a bit disingenuous. She went from a complete novice in the arts of teasing to a master of sufficient qualifications that I was beginning to wonder if it would be unseemly to sit at her feet and gaze at her adoringly; or she already knew all about teasing before she even arrived, and was just baiting me at the beginning of the conversation. Either way, she had certainly tied Mr. Darcy up in knots.

Yes, Mr. Darcy was indeed looking supremely relieved, and most vexed, and, and heartily annoyed, and mostly confused, and fearsomely handsome, and… I gasped in surprise, and hoped I had not said that aloud. It was bad enough to think it, but to say it? Miss de Bourgh would never let something like that go. I reckoned myself lucky that I had barely escaped with my life, and was glad I would never have such an unorthodox thought again.

I did have to admit that Mr. Darcy was more than a bit confusing. For example, why was he here? The amiable bumbling colonel was easy enough to understand, but why Mr. Darcy? He certainly had no reason to actually be checking on my condition, so what was he really here for, other than making a good target for Anne's impertinence; although you would have to admit he served that particular purpose admirably.

I saw Anne slide forward in her chair as soon as he got even moderately out of earshot, and she hissed at her other cousin, "All right, Periwinkle! Time to come clean! Explain to me why Darcy needs money! Why is he hunting an heiress?"

To tell the truth, I was beginning to wonder that as well. I mean, why the colonel needed money was fairly obvious; but why would Mr. Darcy need funding? And even more curious, how was Anne privy to his private business affairs? I knew she was aware of the colonel's monetary requirements for I had just told her that not twenty minutes past, but Mr. Darcy was another story. What was her source of intelligence on the gentleman? How did she know about his finances? Why was he so abominably handsome? Oops! My traitorous mind had obviously been exposed to an overabundance of Miss de Bourgh's impertinence and had slipped a cog or two.

Anne was just in the act of starting to grille the colonel mercilessly, when she stopped talking mid-sentence, and he looked relieved that he would not have to explain Mr. Darcy's financial affairs. Anne just sat there staring open mouthed at the tall-dark-handsome-drink-of-water that was in the entry hall talking to Mr. Darcy. The man was at least as tall as a giant, and if he was an express rider I imagined he either ran faster than a horse (the mostly likely explanation), or he was the worst express rider in Kent, and possibly the worst in England. I had no idea how a horse could carry the man all the way to town with his feet dragging on the ground, but that was beside the point. Anne was practically drooling in her tea, and while staring at someone was fairly common; and in fact, an activity that Mr. Darcy regularly engaged in, I thought ladies really should draw the line at drooling.

Come to think of it, why did a lady staring at a man while practically swooning with desire make me think of Mr. Darcy, the least likely swooning candidate in modern history? This was a most perplexing man.

I saw him point to Rosings, which I took to mean he was sending his giant there for supper. The rider nodded, and said a few words, while longingly looking the other way towards the village. I reckoned when Anne dragged me off to find a rope and hunt him down, we would have better luck at the tavern in the village than anywhere else, and there was little doubt she would be hunting the poor man down soon enough. In fact, I was surprised she was still here. She had somehow turned into a fierce creature. My mother would even be afraid of her… well, let me retract that, as to the best of my knowledge my mother was afraid of nobody. It was to be an interesting trip to Pemberley Anne had cooked up.

Then, I had the thoroughly odd thought, why had Mr. Darcy gone along with the scheme? I knew full well he could slap down an impertinent question and shut the offender up instantly. Just listen to what he said to Mr. Bingley back at that first assembly. He had said just exactly the right words to send the insufferable man away to leave him in peace and… EGADS! My head nearly fell off my shoulders with the next thought. He had not said those words to me. He no doubt thought I could not hear. He said them to Mr. Bingley! Perhaps he was just trying to shut Mr. Bingley up, an understandable enough desire! Perhaps I was not completely out of range for the title of comely lass.

Those confusing thoughts nearly had me completely ignoring Anne's bizarre behavior, and the colonel was as usual taking it all in stride.

Mr. Darcy came back a few moments later, and did the most extraordinary thing I could imagine. He smiled… at me!

In that very moment, almost as if I had hit by a bolt of cliché from the sky, I began to wonder about Mr. Darcy and I got an idea! An awful idea! Yes, Elizabeth Bennet got a wonderful, awful idea!

This idea was so unlikely, so breathtaking in its scope, so monumental I might have taken an hour to explain it to Anne, although the only way I could get the new Anne to remain silent for a minute let alone an hour would be to plunk her tall express rider onto the table in front of her, which would probably make it hard to get her attention, and he was so tall it would be nearly impossible to talk around him, so I would probably just keep the idea to myself.

So what was this mad idea that would no doubt change history for at least a century, perhaps two? I decided that for the rest of the visit, until we parted company, I would give Mr. Darcy the benefit of the doubt! Yes, this was a unique idea for certain, but I all of a sudden understood him so much better, and this was the natural consequence. I then understood him perfectly, in all his particulars and I was far more charitable toward him than I had ever been.

Mr. Darcy did not have the look of a rake or a gambler, and he also did not have the look of a man who wasted money. I had to trust Anne with her mother's connections and her other sources of family knowledge to know her own cousin better than I, so I had to believe his estate was in serious trouble. Perhaps his father was a drunkard or a gambler or left him with huge debts. Perhaps years of drought or locusts had decimated his crops and herds. Perhaps… well, I would never know the details, but if he had to marry an heiress, he was exactly the same as me! He had dependents just like my sisters, except he must have hundreds. He had people that would suffer if he did not get his financial house back in order. If he needed an heiress, it would explain just about all of his behavior in Hertfordshire. He was rude to us to keep us at a distance, since he was clearly resting up for an assault on the ladies of the first circles, or perhaps he was girding his loins for a life with someone like Caroline Bingley, but worse. Yes, I had thoroughly misjudged the man. He had a difficult, nearly Herculean task in front of him. Until that very moment, I never understood him.

Once I understood his destitution, it made his treatment of me, if not necessarily amiable, at least understandable and I could well appreciate his position, being indistinguishable from mine.

So, for the remainder of his visit, I vowed I would give him the benefit of the doubt. If he said he came to check on me, I would take him at his word and assume he said it in earnest. If he said he could afford a dozen visitors to Pemberley, I would not embarrass him by challenging his ability. It must hurt an honorable master of such an estate immensely to not be able to afford the basics of life or to offer hospitality that even Longbourn could afford, so I would be kind and generous to him as I would to any other unfortunate. If he asked a question, I would not tease him. I had Anne for that anyway and she was far worse than I ever was, so I would answer him with the kindest and most positive answer I was capable of, regardless of the question. Yes, for one day, I would agree to anything he asked of me. It was the least I could do. For just one day, I was going to pretend I was my sister Jane, and I was going to be as nice and understanding as it was possible to be with the poor man, and do my very best not to make things worse for him.

This newfound resolve filled me with a sense of righteous peace, and so I did something I had never done in our entire history. I hoped his financial woes were not compounded by any particular physical maladies, as I doubted he would expect the insane thing I did next, but fortunately I thought he might likely survive it.

Yes, you guessed it. I returned his smile.

I suspect he was just trying to wrap his head around my radical new deportment, when we once again heard the bell ring.