The end of this installment sees the introduction of another one-off character.

Brigitte is an eccentric antiques dealer. You will see.

This and the next installment are inspired by Anne of the Island (I think- I can't recall which one- will somebody relieve my inquiring mind on this one? Where was the cottage with Gog and Magog? Anyway. On with the story after a couple of important notes:

Thanks to all my betas who contributed in different ways: lovingyouisbest, JD Bell; Joy Booth and Fredrica.

Final tweaking is my own.

Before the strategies Begin

In the ensuing days, consumed with the multitude of tasks, Lizzy forced thoughts of Darcy to the farthest crevices of her awareness. It didn't signify when she inadvertently talked of things referring to him during stitch and bitch sessions at the Costume Shop. Her friends wisely kept silent, seeking to avoid as much tension as possible during the production push.

By this point, Lizzy practically moved in to Maya's to be closer to school and get away from Francesca who was in her usual autumn hysteria about fairs, showing livestock, recordbooks*, and the like. Lizzy found at least some time to be of support in 4-H endeavors earlier in the semester, but was grateful to have a reason to completely escape from her family if only in part. Her mother still called at inconvenient times to keep her updated.

Lizzy, who had hoped, rather than assumed, Darcy might continue to show some affection, had mixed feelings about his singular behavior since that night. His forays into her world of costumes were done with little flirtation but many artistic demands. She had since given up complaining to Maeve, partially due to feeling her Mentor would take his side, and, because she was simply fatigued. Lizzy worked through every last aesthetic and sartorial conundrum as it was handed to her, and Maeve- along with the director, were very satisfied with the resulting costumes.

Other production members also expressed their satisfaction, especially the actors, with how the costume fit their character and situation. In a production with a multitude of scenes and extras, work seemed to never end. One week was all about cravats and waistcoats, the next about slippers and boots, while the quest for the right jewels for this period and style seemed eternal. Certainly accommodations were made for more casual scenes but the balls demanded the most elegance. Extensive resources were needed to obtain just the right look for our main characters of the play.

A similar dilemma was carried out in the props department. While many items were made, taken from stock or rigged together, some needed that patina of use. Both departments were fortunate that Maeve was a woman with vast resources as she had prepared months ago in anticipation of this need. The propsmistress was far too occupied with a now problematic ball scene. She didn't have time for a shopping trip and Bingley, who had his work well in hand, offered to take it for her. She readily agreed.

Such an escape proved to only add fuel to Lizzy's subconscious obsession. She grew ever more irritable around a certain man who was now paying her little attention. How he could first seduce her, then act arrogant, while attempting to seduce her again, then cuddle with her, and then become a theatrical dictator? It was all too infuriating. Because now he seemed to ignore her. Except for the times he was taking over the production. AGAIN.

At least she would get a little reprieve in the task before her tomorrow. Lizzy did love a good road trip and it promised to be relaxing with Bingley along. At least he wouldn't be telling her what choker to get. Bingley was utterly obsessed with Regency props, of which there would be plenty. Lizzy was salivating at the thought of an immense cache of antiques.

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Her reverie was interrupted by a certain parent.

"Lizzy! My nerves, what shall I do? I'm out of chile! Run to the deep freeze to see if there's some out there. Oh! I knew we should have gotten more gunny sacks. If only you'd been here to help bag the chile this year….."Francesca was in typical form, her heels tap-tap-tap-tappinng around as she puttered around the kitchen.

As she retrieved not one but two giant Ziploc bags from half a freezer full of the stuff, Lizzy knew she'd made a mistake: Why did she elect to stay here tonight, instead of staying at Maya's? "Mom! I don't have time for your tirades. I have to prepare for the trip tomorrow."

"Why exactly do you have to go to Ruidoso for clothes? It just doesn't make sense. And it's dangerous this time of year with the avalanches." Her mother said as she busied herself chopping chiles and other vegetables.

"Mom, they've hardly had any, like, ever, and especially not with the low moisture fall now that the drought is on. And it's not Ruidoso, it's near Cloudcroft! Please! I need to finish eating so I can make sure I have everything I need."* Lizzy fell in rhythm with her mother and sauteed meat.

"We've hardly had any sense in this house since your sister went to shack up with that Bingley fellow, and you're living with that…. Lesbian." Francesca's chopping took on a passive aggressive tone.

"MOM!" Lizzy sighed loudly and had started to chastise her mother. She didn't bother correcting her about Maya's orientation. Maya would have laughed, and possibly played it up, acting like Lizzy was her own girlfriend, if Maya were here.

This time, Lizzy's father interrupted her thoughts, "Even Mary's been nearly insufferable with Collins, her boyfriend. He follows her around like a lap dog and they're far too affectionate. He hasn't gotten the hint."

"You mean like Lydon polishing his shotgun?" Lizzy asked.

"He actually made veiled threats and Collins was clueless," Edward chuckled.

Lizzy shook her head. "Unbelievable. I wish I would have seen it."

"Well, you've been busy, Lizzy dear. Don't bother with me, I'll just sit in my library and enjoy the latest McMurtry."* He took the iced tea he'd fixed himself and ambled to his favorite spot.

A green enchilada casserole, pinto beans, and salad was assembled and the family gathered for dinner. Conversation was, on the whole, innocuous, the family who were present caught Lizzy up on goings on. Jane was absent with their new boyfriends. Mary and Collins were called in from tending the garden outside to clean up at the last minute. Kitty and Lydon were at home, as their mother expected them to put in some hours that night with recordbooks.

Wickham, Lydon told them, was at the Younge ranch. Lizzy didn't comment at Lydon's obvious peevishness about the matter. She knew Lydon enjoyed the man's food and he was a great admirer of Wickham. Lizzy resolved to say something to her father about their choice of role models for her brother, later.

Collins, Lizzy was surprised to learn, had no such compunction and took it upon himself to voice similar concerns." I am honored to have learned from a certain," (he dropped his voice) "business associate" (he looked around furtively and continued), "that Wickham was let go due to um, canoodling with certain, um parties who are undisclosed but suffice it to say were I able to tell you more you would find it quite shocking to know why I cannot speak of it. Even though I have been sworn to secrecy as a dear friend of your family, I couldn't keep my silence. I felt it incumbent upon me to voice my concerns as I am honored to be an advisor to this family in farming matters, and that is to say, in family manners" (his eyes shifted to Mary who blushed).

Lydon rolled his eyes, "Geez! Give the guy a break, why don't you! It wasn't his fault she hit on him! He's not even… TRUST me. He didn't like that woman."

Francesca was quick to respond, "Well, he's only been good to this family. You know what they say in most of those cases. It was probably the woman's fault anyway. I'm inclined to believe the Mata Hari seduced him or made it look that way. Dear Wickham, what he's suffered!"

"My boyfriend wouldn't exaggerate or lie! Just because he can't tell you the particulars doesn't mean it's not true!" Mary defended.

"That's right! I have the Rosings Institution to uphold!"

Edwards eyes followed the animated debate. Lizzy couldn't tell if he was irritated or amused. Or, knowing Dad, possibly both. "Well, well, no one questions the uprightness of your Institution. Come, Lydon, you shouldn't get so upset. A young man enjoys learning that his hero has clay feet after all. It's not such a big deal."

Before her father could continue in his dismissal, Kitty interrupted their dinner discussion, "Mama, Lydon took my newest Stetson, the one I wear my tiara with."

"It looks better on me anyway, sis." Lydon said, in between shoveling food into his mouth.

"You'll stretch it out and turn the sides up so you can look like a dork. Give it back!" Kitty threw down her cutlery, the plate clattering. She refused to leave the table, instead clutching her hands at the sides of her chair, her face growing redder by the second.

"Mama tell her it looks better on your baby boy." Lydon stopped eating for a second to grin winningly at his mother.

Kitty had shoved her chair back, tears in her eyes, when her mother jumped up and put her arm around her daughter. "Oh, hang the hat, Lydon, who cares! Kitty is princess after all, she's more important than you. You should have thought about these things when you neglected to enter the fair rodeo this year. If you aren't going to do the work, the priority is on your sister and she gets the new things. "

"HA HA HA!" Kitty's tears disappeared and she flounced down in her seat. Not so much to finish her meal as to continue to gloatingly smile at her brother.

"CHILDREN!" It was the first time Lizzy had heard her father actually roar at her siblings and she stared in disbelief. He turned to her: "I told you there wasn't a bit of sense here now that you and your sister are gone."

"Yeah, he's been a bear lately". Lydon had resumed eating in earnest while talking with his mouth full. He was too hungry to skulk at the moment.|

This would only serve to build up the emotion to a more dramatic climax in the near future, whereby he would decry his mistreatment. Not that Lydon was a schemer, he was completely unaware about what a drama queen he really was. Lizzy looked hard at her brother, knowingly.

She then noticed her father's face was flushed and he continued the uncharacteristic behavior of chastising one of his progeny. "Well, son, if you'd do your chores and buckle down to get better grades…"

"Blah blah blah it's the same every day, now. You never cared before." Lydon had finished his dinner and shot up, leaving the table. Lizzy was waiting for the explosion and was relieved when he left the house entirely, likely newly motivated to spend some time with his recently neglected equine friends.

Meanwhile, Francesca held her head at the family dischord. "My Nerves! Oh I wish Wickham were here. He's such a good fellow and everyone gets along so much better with him around."

Edward clicked his tongue. "Yes, yes, he smirks and simpers and makes love to us all."

"DAD! That's gross!" Kitty looked at her father in disbelief. Collins's eyes bulged and Mary gasped. The couple had finished dinner already. Looking at each other, they silently left the table and removed to the greenhouse.

"If you read a little Kitty, you'd understand the primary definition of that phrase is not what you think…" Edward resumed eating at a leisurely pace.

Lizzy finished dinner, rinsed off her plate and went to her room to review to do lists and get some homework done.

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A couple of hours later, she beckoned 'come in' to a knock on her door. Mary entered and leaned against the door, looking uncomfortable, which Lizzy commented on. "I asked Collins if I could tell you something under confidence and he said I could."

"Ok?" Lizzy furrowed her brow.

"Before I tell you anything else I have to explain. You and Jane haven't been around much. Even though Collins and I spend a lot of time –ahem- in the garden, we see things. Dad and Lydon are not getting along so well. Lydon is slipping in school and ditches 4-H meetings. Dad keeps harping on him to get his grades up and they argue more. Mom looks the other way because usually Wickham shows up to 'sponsor' and she says its fine for him to mentor Lydon one on one. I don't think that's what is going on. Neither does Collins. Here's why:" She took a breath and continued

"He wanted you to know that Wickham could have been convicted of trafficking drugs at Rosings, not to mention running certain um, spa and entertainment operations, if you know what I mean. That is why he got fired. But that wasn't all. It came to light after a man tried to sue Rosings after he caught Hepatitis there. Collins says Catalina was apoplectic and the Foundation could have lost a lot of money and its credibility.

After that Catalina worked hard to resolve the situation with victims who came forward. She put very strict rules in place and worked hard to earn a stellar reputation as a sort of wellness spa. She has the place credentialed now and there is a strict policy forbidding any relationships between staff and clients. In fact, he had to get permission from Catalina to date me, since the Bennet family could be considered a client. We corresponded and she gave him her blessing, saying that since this wasn't happening at the Wellness Foundation, she would allow it." Lizzy could tell that Mary was quite proud for Catalina's approval.

"Why did you think I needed to know this information"?

"I have eyes, you know. I can tell how uncomfortable you are around Wickham and I saw your dance with Darcy." She laughed mirthlessly, "how could I not, Lydon has to ruin things for us. But I saw it, anyway and you and Darcy were about to combust on the dancefloor. There is something between you two. I just think you need to be careful of what Wickham says, is all. Oh, and, maybe you could help deal with Lydon when the dust settles."

"You know what Mary? I agree. Thank you. I won't say a word about Collins's confidence. And I will watch out for Wickham. Lydon may not be saveable, but when the dust settles, we can try, ok"? Mary nodded and the sisters embraced. Mary made her excuses to leave, apologizing for not staying longer. Lizzy reassured her that she had her own work yet to do. They made future plans to go over each other's projects during a break. After Mary left Lizzy wondered at their bond amidst the ongoing currents pulling the siblings on disparate courses.

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As the rest of the theatre was closing up for the night, a lone figure stalked towards the last worker in the building.

"Fuck! You scared me Bingley," yelped Darcy as Bingley put his hand on Darcy's shoulder.

"Dude, you are so preoccupied with your work. And can you play something else besides The Cult? I mean, they have a lot of songs, but I am sick of goth butt rock." Bingley walked to the phone in its speaker dock and picked it up to rummage through the musical selections.

Darcy resumed his painting and started: "Inter-"

"NO INTERPOL either." Charles interrupted

Darcy turned to his friend: "You're a bit testy. You don't look so good."

"Yeah, I feel like shit. I think I'm getting a cold. I wish I hadn't told _ take her place for the trip to Cloudcroft." His sneeze seemed to emphasize his point. "I just want to go home and have Jane play nursie."

"I guess there are advantages to being crossed in love," Darcy mused.

"Yeah, look at you, asshole. You're such a teacher's pet, you're almost done." Charles gestured to the exquisitely painted backdrop. "What WILL you do with all your spare time?"

"Well, speaking of teacher's pets, I found a sub position in the Art Department, you know, to keep me busy around here so I can be available." Darcy's brow wrinkled, concentrating.

"Available for a certain lady?" Charles smirked.

Darcy stopped painting and looked at his friend. "I am SO pathetic."

"You are dude. Totally." Bingley sneezed again.

Darcy continued observing his friends pallor, offering "I'd be happy to help you out and go to Cloudcroft to get those props so you don't have to."

Bingley's voice was getting more nasally by the second. "That would take a load off. I know I can trust you. You're so damn fastidious you probably made a list of the props I need, too."

Darcy walked over to his tablet, "Actually I have an app…"

"Bastard." Charles followed Darcy, pulling out his own phone to review the list with his friend.

"Better stop cursing at me if you want me to go for you tomorrow. Darcy said, as they sat down to review the lists.

Bingley wasn't yet done teasing his friend. "Yeah, You are SO reluctant to help, what with your delectable Miss Bennet going."

"That is an inducement, I admit." Darcy had a faraway look in his eyes.

"Just do her a favor and DON'T play the Cult the whole way up." Bingley suggested.

"She likes it." Darcy's tone was defensive.

"Now I'm beginning to understand…" Charles said, as they started the actual work of going over the prop lists. By the time they finished, Charles was much worse off. He had planned to come in early the next day to coordinate with Darcy and the Lighting Designer before leaving with Lizzy. Darcy offered to do it in his stead several times, but Charles assured his friend he'd meet Darcy and the Lighting designer there at first light to do a dry run before Darcy went to the mountains. Reluctantly Darcy agreed.

He was unsurprised, however, when his friend was not up the next morning. Jane had left Bingley's bedroom briefly to inform Darcy he was not to make the meeting. Darcy told Jane to assure Charles the dry run would be completed this morning, he and the Lighting Designer would take notes for Charles. Darcy hurried to the Theatre, hoping to finish on time.

He was looking very forward to this drive. He'd spent far too long focusing on the production and allowing himself to fear the worst- in the time that he'd missed Wickham may have endeared himself to her, become more to her than Lizzy said said. He knew he'd taken out his fears on her but also was certain she'd forgive him, recalling with relish their two encounters that proved her easy manner.

Darcy hoped to make Lizzy his, once and for all. He had already taken care of one important task- finding a reason to stay which would at least sustain the needed ongoing visibility to his career. He always enjoyed being a guest instructor. He could have certainly used a hiatus but was too used to work and too proud to give in to the appearance that he was hanging around for her. He had already found some spacious houses to buy or rent near the school and was eager to share the news with her. This ride was, of course, foremost about acquiring their last props and costume pieces, but otherwise, he planned to show Lizzy that he was all about her needs.

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*recordbooks- at the end of the year people in 4-H make a scrapbook of each project's accomplishments along with things like the running of their 'business' if they are, for example, raising livestock for the project- IE expenses and revenue. Or for sewing, for example, pictures of clothes made, etc.

*Ruidoso and Cloudcroft are small quaint mountain resort towns in the pines. The roads up are windy and dangerous in places and have been to have avalanches in the past.

*Larry Mc Murtry. Movies made from his work includes The Last Picture Show, Lonesome Dove and he co wrote Brokeback Mountain.

Task 2

In the short space between Lizzy's early morning entrance to the theatre and the present, Darcy had already turned the entire trip upside down. She had arrived on time, only to find Darcy, not the propsmistress or Bingley. And, he insisted that he could not miss a morning meeting which inevitably went an hour over schedule. Or, more accurately, the insufferable man went an hour over schedule with the lighting designer while everyone else had vacated the meeting. He needed to check the progress of his work in conjunction with set and lights in a sort of dry run. Why he needed to do it this morning in particular, Lizzy wasn't sure, but she suspected it was simply to annoy her and show who was boss. Having originally planned to leave much earlier in the day, Lizzy took the news none too well.

In her rush to the Theatre, Lizzy had foregone her morning coffee and was eager to remedy this situation. Since she had to wait on his highness, she might as well go to Desert Spirit. She was surprised to see Lydon and Wickham there. Lydon, generally not a morning person was animatedly bragging about his recent rodeo exploits to some adoring FFA ingenues while Wickham looked on proudly. Something about the situation was off, something besides Lydon's alertness at such an early hour, but Lizzy couldn't put her finger on it. When her brother saw her, he greeted Lizzy with a bear hug, swinging her around, nearly hitting a patron.

"Ooops! Sorry! Here let me get you a coffee." The patron, who had been looking on interestedly, dismissed the rodeo hero.

Lydon turned to his sister, effusing about how Wickham was a hand in the ring and was the reason for his recent win in the roping category. Lizzy congratulated her brother and nodded to Wickham, explaining that she needed to get back to the Theatre as she was going to the mountains for a day to visit a store for some costumes. She rolled her eyes as she said it, which caused her brother to ask the reason for her change of heart. She explained that Darcy would be going on the trip. Lydon teased her about going on a weekend with Mr. Fancy Pants. Lizzy blushed furiously.

"So this is your excuse to jump his bones, huh?" Lydon cackled when his sister turned even redder.

"What? No! I didn't even know he was coming. It was supposed to be someone else." It was all Lizzy could do to keep from squashing the paper coffee cup.

Wickham raised his eyebrows. "He probably planned it this way. I'd watch it if I were you. I've spent weekends with him in the forest myself." His index finger gestured a circle at his temple in the universal sign of madness. "You think he's intense now, just wait when you're a captive audience. He wants everything his way. And I do mean everything. Oh, and watch out for the running around the forest in nothing but underwear and a crazy costume, shooting his bow and arrow aimlessly."

Lizzy's eyes widened. She tersely said goodbyes and left. She was officially done with the whole idea of Darcy going on this trip and it hadn't even begun. Perhaps Wickham was a shady character but he certainly had Darcy pegged about the control issue. What concerned her was being cornered by the man in a cabin in the woods.

But they were on a schedule, accountable to the theatre to procure their pieces. There was accountability. Surely he wouldn't lose his control on her and risk his reputation? What was she thinking? No one cared. The man walked on water as far as the known theatre world was concerned. She gripped the steering wheel, breathing, willing herself to calm down. Lizzy sat in the car, finished her coffee and walked inside, hoping that he was through.

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He was through. However, but to her vast exasperation, that man insisted on taking his Mercedes arguing that it was bigger than her car and could hold more. Of course, that meant that he also would drive, another plan gone awry. She hated being a passenger on the up and downhill winding drive to Cloudcroft- it made her nauseated. And of course, when Lizzy protested citing this reason, Darcy had another solution. He insisted she take a Dramamine that he conveniently kept in the car for his brother, who also got carsick. Lizzy decided she'd rather take it than throw up on his original upholstery.

Now, here she was, mood was blacker than the clouds in the far distance- a dark blot on her horizon as she scanned the panoramic view while coasting in the passenger seat of Darcy's Mercedes. As angry thoughts swirled heavily in her head, the sounds of a relaxing classical playlist from the Georgian Era which Darcy had chosen (another one of his control issues- he insisted it would relax her. Lizzy bored easily of classical music but kept her mouth shut).

She didn't know exactly when she fell asleep, but all Lizzy could recall was the view and then darkness, dream images of Darcy, wearing nothing but a loincloth, moving easily though a pagan countryside and then taking occasional flight. She was a silent observer along for the ride, observing as he pulled arrow after arrow from his quiver and took aim at figures which Lizzy eventually realized to her horror were people.

She tried to look away but couldn't only to find them moaning not in pain but in the agonies of love. As his arrow would hit the mark, people would fall into wrestling masses of lust. She looked to the man and saw he had full on angel wings- or were the wings from some other entity? They were dark and immense and… strangely erotic, not scary at all.

Lizzy did not realize the smile that crept over her face as she dreamed. She missed the sidelong glances frequently stolen by the driver. They wound around moving steeply up the mountainside, surrounded by golden trees and dense groundcover.

She only opened her eyes when she felt the car turn onto a washboard road waking her with its clatters and bumps. The car emerged briefly to the picturesque scene of a Victorian cottage tucked away amidst the magical foliage, reminding Lizzy of something out of Anne of the Island*. She was already under its spell and the two parked and sat in awe.

"I've been here before" Darcy softly stated- almost more of a question in tone. His face bore the inscrutability of dim memories Darcy struggled to bring to the surface. She looked at him questioningly but the reverie was interrupted by the front door bursting open and the sound of a gunshot which seemed to whiz just inches in front of their car.

"And stay out! If you ever come back, you know what you're in for! Now, get out of here!" Lizzy and Darcy sat gaping in shock over a tiny, shotgun-wielding crone who chased a doughy balding man in a suit off her front steps. He scurried to a very new looking oversized red Ford truck. He left in a panicked flash of flying mud and gravel, his tires not deigning to squeal for fear of further instigating the miniature harridan.

Lizzy could hardly take in the juxtaposition of the sight and situation before her. As she sat in a daze, Darcy hurriedly got out his wallet and rummaged through, pulling out what looked to be an old photograph and muttered "I've got this."

Lizzy harrumphed in frustration that again Darcy had to be the one in control, not for once considering that the crone was still wielding a shotgun that hadn't been discharged after it was last cocked. She sat watching, her thoughts vacillating between disbelief and annoyance as Darcy delicately approached the tiny defensive woman, speaking to her and showing her something, then the woman laughed in joy and awkwardly uncocked the shotgun and set it down before she grasped Darcy in a bear hug.

The two went inside briefly and Lizzy didn't know what was more dumbfounding- that he knew this woman or that they forgot her in the car. She was about to open her car door in huff of indignation when she noticed Darcy pop his head out, beckoning, smilingly to her- come on! Lizzy put on her best 'going to visit Grandma' expression and bounded to the door, curiosity building by the second.

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An aesthetically organized clutter of objects and furnishings covered every inch of the tiny cottage parlor.

It was a bestiary, herbary, reliquary- and more- of unbelievable proportions. On the walls and every available space, seeming to observe her, were small taxidermied birds and beasts, antlers and horns of creatures of exotic origin, collections of insects neatly pinned under glass, a large shadowbox of butterflies and pressed flowers.

On one wall, a dead gnarled tree seemed to grow out of the wall and was hung with varied ornamentation and dried herbs. And then there were the statuary and metal pieces- green men, gargoyles, sacred statues, as well as oil lamps and candelabras all covered in various layers of lichen and patina.

Standing guard at an Arts and Crafts style chimney, were two ornate and enormous Foo Dogs. As if that weren't enough, the floor was covered in rugs – magic carpets really- from far flung places.

The furniture too, seemed ancient and exotic- a sumptuous chaise lounge and cushions out of an opium den, an ornate yet sturdy Victorian sofa and finally a number of side tables, captain and wingback chairs heralding from diverse eras. *

Lizzy stared, slack-jawed. "This must be a dream."

Well, what do you think? This part was one of my favorites to write.

If you want any examples of pictures, please let me know and I will post links. That will require some serious reviewing! since so many reviewed last time, if you do want pictures, please let me know- at least 4 more reviews indicating you want pictures, especially if it is something specific you are wondering about. I might just be persuaded to dust off my Pinterest with enough inducement.

Never fear, I will post a second installment tonight or tomorrow. Stay tuned!

Thank you everyone for the reviews. They are so verymuch appreciated.