Hello my dears! Sorry this chapter took so long to get to you. Of late I have gotten myself a new puppy and come down with a cold, and some life issues also interfered. Hopefully everything is settling down, and I can get over this cold quickly, because I am behind on my writing and fear not meeting my self-imposed deadline. Send all the positive energy my way that you can spare, as I try to integrate puppy training with writing, so I can get more writing done and get this book published in December like I promised!

Thank you to everyone who has commented. I am sorry if I missed replying to any of you. FFN is still having issues with their servers, because I know for a fact I added the automated email address to my Contacts list, and I still am not receiving email notifications.

Chapter Eleven

Darcy sighed.

"I am," he confessed. "I had resolved on never having her because your too bloody charming uncle made that likelihood impossible. So, I did my best to move on, and I do believe Marian and I were happy together. I might even have learned to truly love her as I had once believed myself in love with Elizabeth, had God not chosen to call her home to Him."

Darcy then groaned and tipped his head back. "I swear, I have not thought of her in that way since before I married Marian," said he. "Yet on Friday, when I saw Elizabeth for the first time in four years, looking more beautiful than I remembered … it all came rushing back to me. How taken I was with her fine eyes, her saucy smile—even her pert opinions. I remembered how envious I was of Henry to have been able to charm her, when all I could seem to do was offend her. I also remembered how foolish and ashamed I had felt of my opinion of her family, when he had even more reasons to avoid the connection—according to society—than I did, and simply did not care!"

Fitzwilliam chuckled. "Henry once told me that when Mr. Bennet confronted him about his attentions to Elizabeth and what the ton would have to say about a match between them, that he'd replied he was 'a rich as sin marquess' and could therefore do as he liked."

"That forwardness, I imagine, was just what she liked about him and could never see in me," Darcy muttered.

He sighed again and turned his gaze to his cousin. "I spent hours in her company on Friday and a good five-and-forty minutes yesterday. From our conversations on both occasions, I believe I can accurately surmise that she is not ready to move on from your uncle. Her focus now is her children, as it should be."

"Then just offer her friendship, Will," said Fitzwilliam. "Be a friend, and the rest will sort itself out if it's meant to be."

After a moment of staring at his cousin, Darcy scoffed and shook his head. "You know, I really do hate it when you make so much sense."

Fitzwilliam laughed. "Now, if you'd just listen to what I have to say, you'd not make yourself so miserable."

He clapped his hands then and stood. "Now, about Squire's—have you an interest in joining us?"

"You know, I think I shall," Darcy said as he rose. "Just give me a moment to speak to Clara."

When he met his daughter in the schoolroom and told her he was going out, Clara made Fitzwilliam laugh when she asked if she could go as well.

"Dearest, I'm afraid Squire's does not accept young ladies as students," Darcy informed her.

"Can you teach me, Papa?" Clara persisted. "Maybe if knew fencing, and Anthony teases me again, I can bloody his nose myself!"

Fitzwilliam guffawed immediately, even though she spoke of bloodying his son's nose. Darcy had to admit that the expression she wore and her enthusiasm for the idea was amusing.

"Clara, fencing will not teach you to bloody anyone's nose, and you should not wish to do harm to your cousin—or anyone else," Darcy admonished softly.

"But Papa! What if Anthony teases me again and Lord Harry isn't there to bloody his nose for me?"

Darcy scowled briefly at Fitzwilliam when he sniggered again. "Don't know why you're laughing, it's your son she speaks of beating up," the former muttered.

"Besides," Clara continued, placing her hands on her hips. "If a lady has not a gentleman to defend her, she must defend herself."

This time Darcy glanced at Mrs. Annesley, whose eyes widened a little as she lifted her shoulders and shook her head.

Squatting down before his daughter, Darcy asked, "Wherever did you hear a thing like that, Clara?"

"From Aunt Gigi."

Of course, he mused. Just like his sister to instill ideas of feminine independence in his daughter. But then, he and Fitzwilliam had taught Georgiana some amount of self-defense themselves after the unfortunate affair in Ramsgate.

"Aunt Gigi should know better than to say such things to little girls," Darcy said softly. "You are but six years old, dearest, or near to it—you should not be worried about defending yourself, for there will always be a gentleman close to defend you. However, if you are certain that you should like to learn fencing—"

"And archery!" cried Clara. "Cousin Charlotte said it's for girls as well as boys."

"Lady Charlotte is correct; girls can also learn archery," Darcy agreed. "If you are certain you wish to learn, I will see about hiring a master to teach you."

"Can't you or Cousin Theo teach me?" Clara asked.

"We could," spoke up Fitzwilliam. "Your father and I will have to discuss how we might fit your lessons into our schedules and yours."

Clara's countenance brightened with joyful hope. "Do you promise?"

Darcy nodded as he stood. "Yes, dearest. Your cousin and I will discuss it while we are gone. Now, I should not be away more than an hour or so. You know to mind Mrs. Annesley, correct?"

Clara nodded. "Yes, Papa."

He bent and kissed her brow. "There's my good girl. Go on back to your lessons, and I shall see you again soon."

When the two men were in Fitzwilliam's carriage about five minutes later and on their way back to the colonel's home to collect his son, he said to Darcy, "Did we really just allow ourselves to be talked into giving fencing and archery lessons to a six-year-old girl by that same six-year-old girl?"

Darcy chuckled. "It would seem so. Precocious little minx, isn't she?"

Fitzwilliam snorted softly. "She gets it from you, you know," said he. "That artful way of talking others into doing exactly what you want? You did that a lot when we were boys."

"I did no such thing!" cried Darcy.

"That's it right there!" returned Fitzwilliam. "I wish I had a mirror, for your daughter had the very same look on her face not ten minutes ago that you did just now."

"What look?"

Fitzwilliam laughed. "That one," he said, pointing with his forefinger. "That innocent, 'I don't know what you're talking about' expression. You're a master at it."

Darcy scowled at his cousin, which only made him laugh harder. "I have never used artifice to achieve my goals, Theodore. I have used intelligence and convincing arguments."

"I didn't say you used artifice, Will. I said 'artful.' And you've just proved my point—convincing other people, especially stubborn old coots who are set in their ways, is an art form," said Fitzwilliam. "And maybe it is unconsciously done now, as a grown man, but you must own that from the time you were about three until the age of 13, you would purposely set your features into an expression of innocence so as to achieve exactly the outcome you wished."

He's not wrong, Darcy mused silently, strenuously resisting the urge to smile as he was unwilling to admit the truth of his cousin's words aloud. He had his dignity and reputation to preserve, after all.

Clearing his throat as he straightened his posture, Darcy looked Fitzwilliam in the eye and said, "I shall not own to that which I have never done. A gentleman does not need to use arts and allurements to achieve his ends, Theodore."

Fitzwilliam threw his hands up. "Fine, don't admit it! But I can tell. Clara is clearly more observant than you give her credit for. I maintain that she gets it from you."

"She could as easily get it from her mother as me. Marian was a very observant woman," Darcy said with a pointed look.

His cousin snorted. "She'd have had to be, to put up with you."

"As Antoinette must be mad to put up with you," Darcy retorted, to which Fitzwilliam only grinned.

The hour Darcy and his cousins were at Squire's was well spent. Anthony, after they observed a match in progress for some minutes prior to introducing the boy to a fencing master, was keen to be taught how to use a foil. He was only mildly disappointed that he did not get to learn much more than how to hold the weapon and salute with it.

"The etiquette of swordsmanship is just as important as knowing how to use the sword itself, young master," said the teacher.

As they were preparing to depart for home, Darcy took a moment to speak to the teacher about acquiring practice equipment that was proper for a child.

"Do you wish me to gift-wrap the items for your young cousin, sir?"

Darcy shook his head. "Nay, the items are for my daughter. She expressed an interest in the sport, and as I cannot bring her here to learn, I must teach her at home."

The fencing master, whose name was Niles, inclined his head. "I may be of a minority, sir, but I must own to being pleased to hear Miss Darcy wishes to learn fencing—it is a most elegant sport, and quite suitable as exercise for a lady. If I may be so bold as to offer my services, I do give private lessons to a few select members of the club."

Darcy arched one eyebrow in surprise. "Have you ever taught a lady before, Mr. Niles?"

"Both of my daughters, Mr. Darcy," Niles replied. "In fact, if you would prefer a lady to teach your daughter, my Rachel is qualified. She actually hopes to open a fencing club for ladies one day, if she can find enough of them that are interested."

Fitzwilliam and Anthony stepped up to the pair as Niles spoke. The colonel grinned at Darcy, then said to the teacher, "I think we could supply your daughter with a number of members for her ladies' club just from our own family."

"If you and Miss Niles are free on Friday," said Darcy, "I would welcome you at Darcy House at one to meet with Clara."

Niles bowed. "I am sure I can speak for my daughter and say we shall be delighted to attend you, Mr. Darcy."

When they were in the carriage again and on the way to Darcy House, Anthony asked, "Are you really going to teach Clara fencing, Cousin Darcy?"

"Yes," Darcy replied. "She will also have lessons with Mr. Niles' daughter, if our meeting on Friday goes well."

"You could have just asked Mamma," said the boy. "She's really good with a sword."

Fitzwilliam smacked his forehead. "Whyever did I not think of that?!" he cried. "Thunder and turf, that's how I met her—do you remember me telling you, Will?"

Darcy nodded. "Yes, something about her brandishing a sabre briquet to fend off men with unsavory intentions."

"What are 'unsavory intentions?'" Anthony asked.

Darcy flashed an apologetic look at his cousin; Fitzwilliam looked for a moment as if he would pass the responsibility of answering to him, but cleared his throat and said, "It means they intended harm to your mamma in a very ungentlemanly manner."

"But isn't all harm ungentlemanly?"

"It is indeed," his father replied, "which is why you should not have been teasing your cousin Clara so. As it was, I happened upon the scene of your mamma brandishing that French sword with some of my fellow soldiers, and we gave those ruffians what-for."

Anthony grinned. "And that's when you and Mamma fell in love?" he asked.

Darcy only arched an eyebrow at his cousin when he glanced at him. Fitzwilliam rubbed the back of his neck as he replied, "Well, not exactly, my boy. Your mamma was rather vexed with us for depriving her of the pleasure of giving them what-for herself."

He glanced at Darcy again. "Do you know, we have that sword hanging on the wall in the north gallery at Rosings. Antoinette insisted on bringing it with her when I had at last convinced her to marry me and come to England to live."

"It is only natural that a Frenchwoman would desire to have a French armament in her home," Darcy observed. He then looked to Anthony and asked him when he had chanced to see his mother using a sword.

"I saw her and Papa practicing in the garden after Mrs. Spencer yelled at them to 'take that nonsense outside'," Anthony replied.

Fitzwilliam laughed. "You heard that, did you?"

Darcy chuckled. "You actually had the audacity to try fencing in the house with your formidable housekeeper so near?"

"She does have an incredible devotion to preserving that house, as though our not breaking anything somehow preserves Anne's memory," Fitzwilliam mused.

In only a few minutes more, the carriage arrived at Darcy House, and the cousins parted ways. After checking in on Clara and finding that Mrs. Annesley had just tucked her into bed for a nap, he retired to his study once more to finally attend to the business that had been put off by his wandering mind and his excursion to Squire's. When he had finished, he ensured he had no other correspondence to see to before sitting back in his chair and allowing his mind to wander again.

Elizabeth was to have attended a luncheon with Lady Cowper. He wondered how she had fared—had the countess bombarded her with questions or tried to take her mind off her loss? Had there been other ladies present? He genuinely hoped she had not been too distressed by stepping out into the world before she was ready, or by impertinent questions about subjects which were no one's concern but hers.

Upon realizing the direction of his thoughts, Darcy laughed quietly to himself. Just face it, old boy, he chided himself. One look after four years, and you're as besotted a fool as you were a decade ago.

All right, I own it, he thought. I am attracted to Elizabeth. Now what do I do?

His cousin's words flashed across his consciousness: Be a friend and the rest will sort itself out if it's meant to be.

A sigh escaped him, and Darcy tipped his head back. He could be her friend—she even seemed to welcome the idea herself, having said she was looking forward to spending more time in his company. But for how long would he be content to simply be a friend to Elizabeth when he wanted to be so much more?

-…-

Lord Disley was somewhat surprised to receive a note from his second son in he middle of the day, and it was with no small amount of curiosity that he opened the missive.

Father,

I do not think we shall have to prod Darcy much on that matter we spoke of at dinner on Friday last—he confessed to me this afternoon that his interest in the lady is already renewed. I advised him to offer her friendship and let nature take its course. Hopefully he listens, as you and I both know that sometimes my perfect cousin can sabotage his own efforts when he pushes himself too hard. Will's already frightened she will reject him because she's not ready to move on, so let us hope dear E is as charmed by my cousin as she was by my uncle.

Your son,

Theodore

Yes, thought Lord Disley. Let us hope.