Disclaimer: Part of being a noughties fanfic writer is that even though disclaimers went out of fashion, you're never quite willing to leave them out, just in case. Characters not mine, no profit (yet), please don't sue.

Summary: See previous chapters

Chapter Eleven

Mr Collins did, indeed, insist upon reserving one dance with each of his "fair cousins", the moment news of the ball reached him.

Jane was fortunate enough to already have two sets reserved by Mr Bingley, leaving poor Elizabeth to dance the first, and the rest of them in subsequent order. He had initially requested the first two dances with Elizabeth, at which point he had somehow missed her barely-concealed horror, and grudgingly agreed to her hasty point that as there were only so many sets at a ball, multiple dances risked his being monopolized by the Bennets, and it would be selfish of them in the extreme to deprive other young ladies of his company.

For his own sake, Lydia hoped that Mr Collins settled on someone else as suitable to be the mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and a fourth at cards when Lady Catherine desired it. Lizzy's tongue could be as sharp as her sword, and it was doubtful that Mr Collins could withstand it a fraction as well as Mr Darcy had. Doubtless it would be entertaining to watch, but Lydia could not wish Mr Collins's 'studied attentions' on anyone!

Listening to it over dinner, when Mr Collins had to at least pause to chew, was tiresome enough!

Several days of heavy rain, and subsequent potential damage to the roads, delayed the departure from London. On the day the weather finally stopped, a message came from Fitzwilliam's commanding officer, requiring his presence on behalf of the Bureau. Like so many other summons, it was nothing that Fitzwilliam did not already know; Darcy had been very detailed in describing the portents around Netherfield, and his suspicion.

Really, it could have very easily been summarised in a report to be read on the way there, but Fitzwillaim knew better than to say so.

By the time it was over, the day was late enough that even if he and Georgiana departed immediately, they would arrive in the middle of the ball Darcy had mentioned, requiring Bingley to absent himself to welcome them. Instead, Fitzwillaim promised that they would leave at first light, and be at Netherfield by noon.

He only prayed that they would not be too late.

Darcy had not sent any messages asking him to risk travelling anyway, so he didn't believe himself in greater danger than he could manage alone, or he had some kind of back-up planned. Still, Fitzwillaim worried; Balls were fraught situations at the best of times, and not only as the hunting grounds of Matchmaking Mamas...

Mr Wickham was nowhere to be seen as they entered the Netherfield ballroom. Whether this was by the pure chance of assigned Militia duties, or deliberate planning or negligence on the part of either Mr Bingley or Colonel Forster, knowing that there was some sort of conflict between him and Mr Darcy, was anyone's guess.

A number of young ladies appeared greatly dismayed by his absence, but Lydia, who felt no particular regard beyond any other dance partner, and a good deal of wariness beyond that, was happy to accept Captain Carter's offer for the opening set. Her pleasure at dancing was made even greater by the fact that they were far away from Mr Collins, who was possibly the worst dancer Lydia had ever seen. Thinking back, even the Lucas boys, all growing gangliness and desire to be outdoors climbing trees at the time of their first lessons, had possessed more grace and attentiveness to the art than Mr Collins did at five-and-twenty!

As the musicians entered the final flourishes of the set, Mary contrived to be in the way of Mr Hurst, who was holding a habitual wineglass, and found the liquid spilled over her dress. It would barely be noticeable against the dark red fabric, but her apparent distress gave Jane every excuse to accompany her to the powder room, both failing to re-emerge until the next set was well underway. Charlotte had offered to take Jane's place as his partner for the set, so he was not too disappointed. Jane was required to sit out the set as a consequence, but Mary and Lydia, whose partner for the second set had fallen victim to Mr Collins's blundering steps and was currently having a cold compress applied to his foot, were happy to keep her company at a small table on the outskirts of the room.

It was this vantage point that allowed them to see a small, scurrying figure, one they had last seen ten years ago, scurrying into a small antechamber.

Lizzy was dancing with an officer, and with expectations high for a match and Mr Bingley's eyes gravitating toward her, Jane's absence would be even more noted than usual. Mary was a powerful spellcaster, but most of those took time to set up. They could not risk waiting until the dance was over.

Lydia pasted on her brightest and most vapid smile, "I'll go. Follow me as soon as you can."

The bell-like chimes that heralded a transformation - Lydia had talked her slippers down from the previous cacophany of trumpets, too - were lost under the swell of conversation and music, and the lights were likewise concealed by the combined efforts of a large suit of armor, and the candle-filled alcove beside it. Anyone who had not been looking would mistake it for a trick of the light.

Thus prepared, Lydia slipped into the antechamber just in time to see the creature finish sketching symbols on the floor, out of which rose an alter of shadows. It held a knife in one claw, and a struggling rabbit in the other. Blood shed with malicious intent would empower Netherfield without even the need for a vessel to give them a willing opening!

There was a basin near to the side, likely used by the servants to wash their hands after chalking the floor, mostly full of slightly dirty water. Lydia flung it across the room, hitting the creature in the head and smearing the symbols beyond repair. The rabbit lay still in a corner, hopefully only having passed out. They were fragile things, even more prone to nerves and stress than Mama.

The creature snarled and lunged at her, and Lydia parried the first swipe of its claws with her short sword, briefly wishing for the longer range of Lizzy's saber. She retaliated with a strong kick, which sent the creature flying into a footstool. She winced at the loud clatter; the last thing they needed was for someone to hear and investigate.

The fight was quick and brutal, the victor almost pre-determined. Netherfield did not enjoy powerful minions, perhaps seeing them as potential threats, which was all very well for drudgery, but a disadvantage when skilled work needed to be done. Lydia felt no delight in the creature's death, only a vague sorrow that it was necessary to protect the people she cared for.

Before she could drop her transformation, however, the door opened abruptly, and Lydia spun around, finding herself facing Miss Bingley, a few officers, Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley, and her sisters trying to get past them all to reach Lydia's side.

Oh, no! Lydia wished for stronger language appropriate to the situation, but came up short. They had been told that the most important think was that their powers remain a secret! Lydia appeared little different from how she had entered Netherfield earlier that night... if one only discounted the blade in her hand. How was she to explain the situation without being thought mad?

"If you keep only one secret in your life, Lyddie, it must be this one..."

Rescue came from the most unlikely of places. "Do you study the arts of the East, Miss Lydia? I witnessed a similar Hassapikos while on Tour, but never thought to see it performed in Hertfordshire."

Lydia blinked, unsure whether to be more surprised that Mr Darcy knew what a sword-dance was, or that he had stirred himself to protect her – or anyone, really – from public scrutiny. He had never exerted himself so, even at gatherings where he was a guest. Did that lend credence to Lizzy's theory that Mr Darcy would have somethingh to do with Netherfield rising, or disprove it? Perhaps Papa was right and she should spend more time on scientific methods than on trimming bonnets.

Lydia gathered her wits as quickly as possible. "Oh, yes. I do so love to dance, but never had the chance to perform the steps in person before now. I thought the room was empty, you see, and –"

Mr Darcy appeared far more pleasant when he smiled, and Lydia was shocked enough at the sight to forget whatever excuse she was babbling. With this less severe expression, Lydia might even venture so far as to call him handsome, though she still preferred a man in a red coat. "The schoolteacher at Lambton reported several instances of the same, after reading 'One Thousand Nights' to the students."

Lizzy stopped trying to glare a hole in the side of his head long enough to blink and look astonished. Mr Bingley, whose mouth had briefly hung open at the sight, shook himself out of his stupor and back into his usual congenial self. "Well, no harm was done! Shall we return to the ballroom?"

He offered his arm to Jane, who accepted with a smile, though one who knew the eldest Bennet sister well could see a faint tightness of worry around her eyes. The Officers - one of them Lydia's next partner, who likely would not be claiming her hand for the promised set - shrugged and followed them, followed by a very disgruntled Miss Bingley, who as Hostess could not absent herself for long.

Mr Darcy turned back toward Lydia, now surrounded by the rest of her sisters. He appeared ready to commit himself to the even more unprecedented step of escorting someone other than Mrs Hurst or Miss Bingley, but Lizzy swooped in before he could. "Quick, Lydia, there is an alcove near the punch table. Let us go there before Mr Collins can find us again."

Giddy relief and the remnants of terror made Lydia's tongue sharper than usual. "I never thought the day would come when you would hide from any man, Lizzy."

Lizzy scowled fiercely, "Mama has been dropping hints, and I would rather not risk my toes a second time, or bite my tongue against his less than subtle hints about my 'demure maidenly shyness' and how suitable he finds it."

Mr Darcy burst out in incredulous laughter, and just as quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, clearly mortified at himself, as Lizzy turned a narrowed glare upon him. "My apologies, Miss Elizabeth. I merely wondered how the man had spent a week in your company and remained so ignorant."

Ignorance in the face of all attempted enlightenment did seem to be Mr Collins' forte, in Lydia's opinion. Fortunately, he clearly considered her too young to marry, and Lydia was spared his attentions, though not his lectures on proper behaviour. He appeared to have not made his mind up about whether Kitty was a potential bride, or considered too young. (Kitty had been doing her best to decide for him by acting younger than her wont.)

Lizzy relented a little, though her eyes quickly widened in dismay at the sight of their cousin advancing toward them. Once again, Mr Darcy stepped in as a rescuer. "I cannot promise to be a desirable partner for this set, but I am sure I will be a less detested one than your cousin."

Mr Darcy might be overstating his own desirability, and clearly had no idea of the very polite interrogation Lizzy was about to put him through. Lydia grabbed Kitty's hand, and they hurried to find a good vantage point.

It had been foolish of him, to put himself on the spot in such a way.

Yet, in the moment, Miss Lydia had looked so much like Georgiana: wide-eyed and trapped, frozen and scared, uncertain of what to do or say. He'd moved to protect her without even thinking about it. Now, she was safe, but he might not be, for Miss Elizabeth's eyes were blazing with a similar protectiveness as they took their places on the dance floor.

A chill ran down his spine, a mix of appreciation and apprehension, as she smiled at him with too many teeth, her tone brooking no defiance. "I will not ask your motivations here and now, but rest assured I will know them. Lydia said she felt a warning when she danced with Mr Wickham. Why?"

Of all possible questions, why did it have to be that one? It never occurred to him not to answer. "We have yet to gain sufficient proof to prosecute him, but he has a history of stirring up supernatural trouble, and leaving Gifted young ladies to take the blame for his actions. I will not sully your ears by repeating his more mundane misdeeds."

An arched eyebrow that somehow managed to convey entire volumes of sarcastic skepticism. "I am hardly some fainting damsel, Mr Darcy."

How well his name sounded on her lips! "I know, but I find it painful to talk about, and it is not conversation for a ballroom."

They spun away from each other, and Miss Elizabeth wore a contemplative frown as they returned. "Very well, but I expect to be told at some point."

It was not the best of manners, but he doubted that Bingley would mind too much. "Come visit for tea tomorrow. I will tell you everything then, and we can co-ordinate plans, if you do not object to my intrusion."

Fitzwilliam and Georgiana would be here by then, and they could discuss whether to reveal themselves entirely, or merely expose Wickham, for now. The reveal of identities was not something done lightly, but nor should one enter into a marriage with such secrets between them.

Miss Elizabeth nodded, "We will think of an excuse. My sisters wished to congratulate Mr Bingley on a successful ball, perhaps. You say that Mr Wickham targets Gifted young ladies... did you know, then, when you came here?"

Did she mean Wickham's presence in Hertfordshire, or his suspicions of the Bennet sisters? "Unless Wickham is following me, our presence at the same time is co-incidence. I can see through deception, but I only suspected that you were, ah, of a similar kind recently. Bingley… my friend has a tendency to attract supernatural trouble, so Netherfield was not entirely a surprise."

She hummed thoughtfully, and they resumed dancing in silence. For once in his life, Darcy found himself wishing that the music would never end.

Mama had spent much of the night exclaiming over Jane's good fortune at catching Mr Bingley's eye, but upon seeing Mr Darcy dancing with Lizzy, she was struck almost speechless, and remained so long enough for Papa to return to her side, a hint of concern in his bearing at her lack of chatter.

Lydia lingered near her parents, ready to deflect questions and Mr Collins, after speaking briefly - or being spoken to - with Miss Bingley, joined them in short order. Kitty quickly found another partner for the set, when it became clear that Mr Collins would not claim her hand for their dance. He did not notice, so great was his concern over the matter recently brought to his attention. "It is most improper! They should not be dancing!"

Mr Collins was only set to remain at Longbourn one more day, and sleeping late after a ball was a perfect excuse to avoid him for most of it. Lydia bit her tongue, and Papa looked as though he wished to bury his face in his hands. "Whyever not, Mr Collins?"

Whoever had deemed Mr Collins a proper Shepard for the poor souls of Kent, Lydia wanted a very stern word with them. Clearly, they had erred. "I have recently discovered that Mr Darcy is the nephew of my Patroness, and Lady Catherine has all but declared him engaged to her daughter! He should not be dancing with a penniless country girl, especially not one to whom I have been paying attentions!"

Several nearby matrons cringed away, pretending not to have heard. Mama's eyes flashed with temper, not the anxious flutterings when Papa teased her, but genuine anger. "If that is how meanly you think of your fair cousins, Mr Collins, then I shall not see you married to any of my girls! Especially not my Lizzy, not even if it does condemn me to the hedgerows!"

Papa had looked prepared to deliver a biting witticism to Mr Collins for the near-insult to his favourite daughter, but the words died in his mouth, and his gaze was all astonishment as he and half the ballroom turned to stare at Mama.

Lydia could not fault them; Mama's determination to see her daughters married was well-known, so to hear her make such a declaration in public was surely a shock to everyone.

Mr Collins stammered in shock, but collected himself. "That is quite unfair of you, Mrs Bennet! What might my most noble patroness –"

Mama retained much of the beauty of her youth, but now she put Lydia in mind of nothing so much as the statues of avenging angels that topped the church gates. "If your most noble patroness, the honourable and interfering Lady Catherine de Bough, has anything to say about the disposition of my daughters, she may come here and say it to me, and I shall ignore it just as surely as I shall every future word from your mouth, Mr Collins! My daughters are clever and beautiful and good-natured enough to find a husband who respects them, and I shall not settle for less!"

Her face was flushed, her eyes flashing in a manner very similar to Lizzy's right before she drove a blade through someone's heart, and her bearing similar to Jane when she was being firm, or Mary preparing to deliver a lecture on the many and varied ways someone was wrong, but also not unlike Lydia or Kitty's when they were about to proclaim the unfairness of the world. How odd; Lydia knew her own resemblance to Mama, but she had never really seen the reflection of her other sisters before now.

Lydia and Papa were not the only ones astonished, either. Mr Darcy seemed oddly reassured, or at least less disapproving than he usually did, and half of Meryton, who had known Mama all of her life and were well aware of her ambitions, were stunned silent. It seemed that even the quiet darkness that was so pervasive in Netherfield was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

Papa broke the un-natural stillness. "That was an excellent speech, my dear, and I am proud of you for giving it."

Mama turned wide eyes upon him, and Papa shifted awkwardly, never comfortable with being the focus of so many eyes for long. "Rather than give my cousin more notice, perhaps we might join the dancers for the next set?"

The next set was the supper set, Jane's third with Mr Bingley after their unplanned set together after the creature's demise, and three dances was practically a declaration. Papa rarely attended social events at all, and had not danced at one since Lydia made her debut into Society. Hopefully, given such delightful gossip, the assembled guests would have enough to gossip about that Lydia's actions would be quite forgotten by the end of the night.

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A/N: I've had most of this chapter pre-written for months; you have no idea how relieved I am to be able to post it and wait for the reactions!

(Seriously, I want to know how you reacted, whether it was screaming at your computer screen, or deciding that I'm a hack who should never be allowed to write again.)

In other news, I'm almost finished with book one, so expect the final chapters of the Netherfield Confrontation within the week, then a break as I work on book two: "An Officer and A Gentleman".

If you want to read any of my other works in the meantime, or pre-order the complete, edited and revised version of this one, links have been added to my profile, since ff.n eats them whenever I try to put URLs in chapters.

Thanks,

Nat