The carriage ride to Stratsbury Hall proved to be more amusing than Elizabeth had anticipated it would be. And the primary source of her amusement sat across from them, in his military uniform, eyes starry as he regarded Jane.

"I hope you are not too inconvenienced in your role, Miss Bennet," the colonel asked Jane with such focused sincerity that Elizabeth believed she could roll her eyes, laugh loudly, and throw herself out the carriage window with neither of her companions the wiser.

"I shall fare perfectly well," Jane assured prettily. She did everything prettily, after all. Even a maid's uniform could not fully conceal Jane's enchanting beauty. It was clear that the earl's son noticed that little fact as well. "I have always tried to do Elizabeth's hair whenever our maid could not manage to help all of us in one night."

"You are most talented then, Miss Bennet."

"Not at all. I only wish to be helpful."

"An admirable trait in a young woman, undoubtedly."

Jane smiled, and Elizabeth could practically see the confident colonel melting into a helpless, lovestruck puddle. The thought made Elizabeth smile herself, though she wondered if she and Jane could ever aspire to respectable matches after their business spying for the Crown. Perhaps the colonel, being a military man himself, might be more willing to consider a female spy as his lifelong companion?

Elizabeth observed the way her travel companions blushed at each other. She did not know the colonel too well, but she did know that he was considered to be a pleasant, honorable, loyal man. It would be a great comfort, even a source of joy, if Jane ever were to make such a match.

Elizabeth smiled to herself. If heaven allowed it, perhaps someone else might end up affianced to Colonel Fitzwilliam by the end of this house party, and this time for real.

She cleared her throat. "Colonel Fitzwilliam, can you be kind enough to refresh our memory about the members of this house party?"

The man across them looked up abruptly, as if he had forgotten about Elizabeth's existence altogether. The idea of it was amusing, of course, if they had not been tasked with charading as a couple about to be married.

"Right, of course." He righted himself quickly and smiled, at Jane, and then Elizabeth. "My father and mother, the Earl and Countess of Matlock, as well as my brother Frederick shall be present. Freddie's betrothed cannot join us, but the remarkable Lady Harriett has managed to mangle a promise out of my dunderhead of a brother that there shall be no other eligible female present at the house party."

Both Bennet sisters giggled.

"My cousin Darcy shall be there, for my mother always likes to have him join us. And the rest of the guests are composed of the men we are to investigate."

Elizabeth nodded. "There is Mr. Culham, an unmarried gentleman farmer. There is Mr. Onervan, who shall attend without his wife. He is a tradesman in grain. Then there is Sir Tyler Halbright, a baronet, who shall be accompanied by his wife."

"Your memory is strong, Miss Elizabeth."

"I do not think I can take upon such an assignment otherwise."

The colonel nodded with a small smile. There was a respect to his gesture that Elizabeth appreciated. "As for our identities, I shall of course be assuming my own. My father and mother are aware that our engagement is a ruse, but my brother and cousin have been kept in the dark for the sake of protecting your identities. You, Miss Elizabeth, shall not be a Bennet but Miss Elizabeth Merivale - "

"Heir and niece of a childless Scottish earl," Elizabeth finished for him.

He nodded. "And Miss Jane - "

"Is Jane Smith, Elizabeth's lady's maid." Jane smiled at her sister with such sweet affection that one might easily have assumed that she was being honored with a title rather than presented as a servant. She turned towards the colonel. "By what name does Elizabeth's fictional uncle go?"

"By Jove, I don't think Morrison said anything about that." He looked momentarily puzzled. "Thank God for your foresight, Miss Bennet."

Jane, on cue, blushed becomingly once more. "I only wish to make sure I do not commit any mistakes."

"Right. Shall we name this Scottish earl then? The Earl of Highland, perhaps? Or the Earl of Sheep?"

Both sisters chuckled.

"The Earl of Haggis," suggested Elizabeth.

"The Earl of Kilt," said Jane.

All three occupants chuckled and shook their heads at their own total ignorance of the Scottish peerage.

"It would not do to use an actual title, of course," said the colonel, "for any of our suspects might happen to be familiar with the list and hence see through our farce. Shall we not combine our knowledge? The Earl of Kilhaggisheep."

Elizabeth laughed as she shook her head. "Highmore. The Earl of Highmore. Is that good enough?"

Given that no one else had any better of an idea, the merry little group decided that the Earl of Highmore had to do.

"Richard, engaged?" Darcy blinked at his aunt. "I was aware that I have been preoccupied of late, but surely I could not have possibly missed such a development."

"It was all rather sudden, I believe." Aunt Matlock waved her gloved hand as if the news of her second son's impending marriage was nothing unusual. "He and Miss Mary - that is, Miss Merivale - met a month or two ago, to my knowledge."

"Impossible. I have seen Richard a mere fortnight ago, and he has made no mention of such a person."

"He has chosen to be discreet, I believe, perhaps out of respect to the lady."

"I have never heard of Richard being discreet about anything whatsoever."

"Come now, you undermine your cousin. He has ferreted out plenty of secrets for the Crown over the years."

Darcy winced slightly. His aunt was not entirely wrong. Yet such a sudden engagement was more in character for people of the more impulsive sort, not the friendly but steadfast colonel. "I still find the news difficult to believe."

"Yes, but it is happy news, isn't it?"

"Only if he truly wishes for such an alliance."

"How could he not? Miss Merivale is a woman of wit and charm, and her uncle is a Scottish earl. She is his sole heir, I believe, and a woman with quite a fortune waiting for her."

"Which Scottish earl?"

"Which one?" It was Aunt Matlock's turn to blink. "Ah, I seem to have forgotten."

Darcy narrowed his eyes. "Certainly, a mother would know such a pertinent thing."

"Of course I know, silly child." She laughed in a stilted manner. "It's just that with all the guests joining the party, I seem to be momentarily robbed of the name."

"I see." Darcy frowned. He had yet to meet Miss Merivale, and yet he suspected her keenly already. Were the woman's noble ties and promised fortune even real? He chose to be more amiable, for his aunt's sake. "And we are to meet this Miss Merivale this week?"

A sweet smile lit up the countess's face. "This very evening. She shall arrive with Richard this afternoon."

"Traveling together alone? That is hardly proper."

"They are engaged, Darcy. It is a state that you would understand if you had bothered to find yourself a bride all these years. Besides, they travel with her maid, I believe."

Darcy lowered his chin. The thought of his cousin enjoying being engaged was not particularly palatable, especially if the lady in question was not one worthy of him. Had she used her arts and allurements to entrap him then? Darcy could hardly imagine Richard being so impulsively betrothed otherwise.

The sound of horses and wheels rumbled outside, and Aunt Matlock smiled once more. "Ah, I do believe they've arrived. Shall you not join me in welcoming them?"

Darcy agreed begrudgingly, although his curiosity did motivate him somewhat. With his uncle and other cousin busy touring the hunting grounds this morning, Darcy put it upon himself to escort his aunt to the door before standing stiffly beside her in their own minuscule receiving line.

"Darcy! Mother!" Richard hopped out of the carriage first, a bright smile on his face. Darcy glimpsed two women left inside the carriage, although the one dressed as a maid was quick to slip out on her own. The woman stumbled slightly upon landing, and Richard turned to support her by the waist before she muttered something and stepped aside. Darcy hardly had time to judge the woman for having such a fumbling maid before the supposed Miss Merivale was handed down the carriage by Richard in a column of rich, embroidered silk.

Darcy examined the woman, from the tips of her used boots to the flowers in her bonnet, searching for any clue that she might not be the heiress his family seemed to believe her to be. But the moment he focused on her face, her eyes arrested him completely.

Intelligence glimmered in her eyes, her gaze a promise of wit and perception. She smiled lightly and politely, yet a deep warmth emanated from her face that irresistibly drew one in. The tilt of her chin was smart without being prideful, the way she curtsied at Aunt Matlock refined yet without pretense.

There was suddenly a much bigger part of Darcy that understood Richard's sudden betrothal. Miss Merivale was not the sort of woman one wanted out of one's sight once she was within it.

"Miss Elizabeth Merivale," Richard presented after the woman had exchanged her greetings with Aunt Matlock. "Elizabeth, my cousin, Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth - the name suited her, a dozen different iterations in one singular moniker.

"Mr. Darcy." The intriguing woman greeted. "A pleasure to meet you."

Darcy struggled to find his tongue. "Ah, yes, an honor, Miss Eli - Miss Merivale."

Richard grinned, seemingly enjoying Darcy's tongue-tied state. Darcy glared at his cousin, but the bastard only grinned even more smugly than before.

"I believe you are excellent friends with your cousin, Mr. Darcy," Miss Merivale said, completely at ease despite Darcy's unusual fascination. "I look forward to making your acquaintance, and I do hope you shall not be overly worried about our seemingly sudden betrothal. Richard informs me that he has not quite shared the news with everyone before today."

Darcy straightened, taken aback by her perception. He glanced at Richard before turning back to Miss Merivale. "I admit the news has come as a surprise."

"Not a bad one, I should hope." Miss Merivale smiled. "I know I shall be equally concerned if my siblings were to return from a trip to Town with a sudden future bride in tow."

"Siblings, yes - I assume they are sisters, then? I have been informed that you are the sole heiress."

Miss Merivale's smile twitched, and she looked uncertain for one brief, fleeting moment. "Ah, yes, one younger sister, already affianced herself. Pardon me, for I have been so accustomed to alluding to my cousins as my own siblings that I forget how easily such a statement might be misconstrued."

Darcy's eyes narrowed just as Richard exclaimed, "Darcy, shall you stop interrogating my fiancée? Do be a gentleman."

Darcy nodded a single, sharp nod. "Of course, forgive me."

"We should rest." Richard directed his mother and Miss Merivale back towards the entrance to the house. "This way, Elizabeth, I do believe you shall quite enjoy yourself at Stratsbury Hall."

"I am certain I shall." Miss Merivale's smile was back with all its former ease, although Darcy's suspicions had already been aroused. He would have to watch her closely for the coming days, lest his cousin fall for a woman who was not whom she portrayed herself to be.

"Is that poem a favorite of yours, Miss Merivale?" Aunt Matlock inquired sweetly that evening right as Richard's sudden fiancée finished her recitation. "You read with a remarkable passion."

Darcy watched the supposed heiress stifle a grin, as if she had not expected the compliment. Then she fixed her features into an even smile. "You are too kind, Lady Matlock. I only convey whatever passion the original author had managed to place in his words."

"I hardly think such passionate displays appropriate for the niece of a peer, much more an earl." Lady Halbright sniffed derisively across the room. The woman, like her husband Sir Tyler, was all severity - from the lines of their gaunt faces to their caustic, nasal voices. She lifted her chin. "A true lady must exhibit a greater degree of poise and composure."

"I have no doubt you speak wisely, Lady Halbright." Miss Merivale smiled at the baronet's wife. Her eyes, those bewitching eyes, twinkled with wit and perception. "I must strive to learn to act the part of a lady."

"But you are already so very beautiful, Miss Merivale," Mr. Onervan sputtered from his seat near the woman. "Surely, your charms cover for whatever deficiencies the peers of the realm like to pretend you have."

Darcy narrowed his eyes at the old, balding tradesman. Did he not have a wife in London already? Every inch of his outfit boasted of newfound wealth, from the large brass buttons ready to pop off his waistcoat to the gold threads shimmering in the firelight. Darcy had no prejudice against people whose fortunes were wrought in trade, but he did have plenty of objections to uncouth and dishonorable behavior. What could possibly have caused his usually discerning aunt to invite such people to her house party?

It was as baffling as Richard suddenly arriving an engaged man.

"Surely, you exaggerate," Miss Merivale responded graciously to Mr. Onvervan's obvious leering. Darcy frowned. If the woman were his fiancée, he would surely be putting an end to all the inappropriate stares the male guests were bestowing upon her. But Richard stood by Miss Merivale, grinning, as if he found nothing to be offended about. "Every person must seek to better himself or herself regardless of their station. I'm fairly certain that you would not have had the success you enjoy today if you did not possess a great degree of ambition, or perhaps, even ruthlessness."

The cut was unexpected, but Mr. Onervan and Mr. Culham, the two men present who had roots in trade, did not seem to be vexed at all. The former laughed, clearly charmed by the intriguing brunette, while the latter stood where he had stood all evening by the fireplace and merely shrugged his broad shoulders and continued to avert his eyes.

"You are everything correct, Miss Merivale. How oddly refreshing to see a woman understand such things." Mr. Onervan complimented freely when he had stopped laughing. "It is one thing to be born to wealth. It is another thing altogether to be able to foster wealth into existence."

Miss Merivale nodded her head politely. Then it was Richard who spoke, "Mr. Onervan, will you not tell us of the trials you've had to endure to experience your current success? I am certain that I, the privileged second son of an earl, would find such instruction very beneficial."

The pompous man did not have to be asked twice, and Mr. Onervan launched into a long-winded description of his, no doubt exaggerated, trials through the years. Darcy did not believe anything the fool said was worth listening to, but he did notice that Miss Merivale received the story keenly, soaking in every stupid word as if it were of import to her.

Was the supposed heiress attempting to find a wealthier man for whom to throw Richard over? Surely, she must know Mr. Onervan was already married, negligent of a husband though he was. Darcy frowned, puzzled yet intrigued by the woman around whom the whole room seemed to have congregated.

"How tiresome to talk of such things," Lady Halbright interrupted once Mr. Onervan paused to draw breath. She fluttered her fan furiously, almost disdainfully. "Can we not talk of better things? Lady Matlock, I do believe you have planned plenty of entertainments for us this visit?"

Instead of responding as she usually did, Aunt Matlock cast Richard a sharp, inquisitive look. Darcy wondered what the parent and child intended as he watched Richard nod wordlessly to his mother before the hostess of the hour regaled everyone of the hunting and the fishing and the various events planned for the coming days.

Beside Richard, Miss Merivale listened, her eyes and ears absorbing every detail around her.

There was something singular about the mysterious Miss Merivale. Darcy was all in support of women needing to be clever and observant, but Miss Merivale's alertness seemed to extend to something more. If only Darcy could decide what exactly that something more.

A/N: I loved writing lovestruck Richard. Haha. Elizabeth's bemusement was my own. As for Darcy's confusion and suspicion...I hope it doesn't make him too unlikeable!

P.S. The eldest sons of English noblemen would often take on their father's secondary titles socially. Very often, an earl of something would also be a viscount of something, with his son using the latter title. For this story, I chose to skip the viscountcy and just make the next title that of a baron.