Written all over his face

Lizzie Bennet first toured Pemberley when she was seventeen. At the time the budding young authoress had been stuck on a portion of her tale, but after viewing a certain portrait in Pemberley's gallery the words just seemed to flow. Little did she know that her novel would become wildly popular, or that her description of one particular character would be read by her muse himself.

Courage Rises

"... and this is the newest addition to our gallery, our current Master of Pemberley, Fitzwilliam Darcy." There was obvious pride and no little possessiveness in the elderly but distinguished housekeeper's tone. This was not unexpected, since she had been extolling the virtues of her young master since they began their tour of the great estate house of Pemberley.

As Elizabeth Bennet paused before the painting, her aunt asked, "Am I correct in thinking that the portrait artist was Thomas Lawrence?" Elizabeth only glanced back for a moment. She had met the man at a party hosted by her aunt. She and her husband, Elizabeth's favorite uncle, were of the tradesman class but kept a very notable and interesting circle of friends. This time, however, she felt her eyes and interest pulled back to the young man's portrait.

By his pose and bearing, I would think him the standard arrogant aristocrat. Yet there is something in those eyes... a sadness, almost broken, yet still determined to weather all storms and do his duty to the very best of his ability. What an interesting character!

Beside her an older voice said, "Do you think him handsome, Miss Bennet?" There was that slight teasing tone that older people adopt when enjoying the poorly concealed thoughts of younger people. Undaunted but still blushing slightly, Elizabeth answered, "Yes, very handsome indeed. And sad... but never broken. His expression reminds me of one of my own favorite sayings: My courage rises at every attempt to intimidate me."

This caused the housekeeper's eyes to widen somewhat. She regarded the young lady with newfound respect. "You have just described my young master to a fault. He has lost so much, born so much, and yet he does not falter. He is wealthy beyond most imaginings and owner of several great properties, and yet he does not indulge in the usual behaviors of his peers."

Elizabeth regarded the lady. At first she had assumed that her praise of her master was obligatory. Now she knew that it was genuine. "Then you and all those who serve or call him friend should be proud. Thank you for showing me such a character."

Agnes Reynolds did not exactly understand the meaning behind the young lady's words. Perhaps if she had attended more to the ink stains on the young woman's fingers she might have understood. Still, it pleased her to see her master appreciated for his true qualities and not just for his fine income, house, properties, and carriages. If only she were of the first circles. This young woman would be a wonderful mate for our young master.

That same night in her temporary room at the Rose and Crown, Elizabeth Bennet pulled out a fresh sheet of paper from her traveling desk, opened her inkwell, dipped her pen, and began to record her impressions of all she had seen and heard that day. If she paid particular attention to the young handsome man she had only met on canvas, few could truly blame her.

Words come to life

"I am serious, Richard! Tell me that these words do not describe my brother:

"Tall, handsome, and unbending, Liam was everything that a man of his standing should be. Having lost so much, he yet persisted in doing his duty to the best of his ability. Sadly, because of his great property, wealth, and name he was pursued relentlessly by every match-making mother and marriage-minded young woman at his level of society. So he added to his fierce determination to do right and equally harsh determination to rebuff all female attention except that of his own family.

"And so he put on a mask of stone, hiding any and all human feelings from the world and from those who sought to draw close to him. To the rest of the world he remained inscrutable, even perhaps heartless, but inside there beat the heart of a young boy who just wanted to be loved for himself, not his wealth."

The colonel laughed, "Well, Georgie, I don't know how well your brother would like to be thought of as a 'young boy,' but the description certainly describes old stone-face to perfection. I wonder who the author is and who he met like our Darcy?"

"The author is a woman, Richard. She only gives the name 'The Story Lady.' Her book is titled 'Courage Rises,' and is the most popular contribution to literature this year. It is already in its third printing and has only been out for ten months! Oh, and Richard, it is such a good story. The characters and the events are believable, the conversations so real, and the main characters are so heartwarming."

"Then I shall have to read it. Could you lend me your copy or shall I go and purchase my own?"

"You may borrow mine, cousin... only be sure to return it. It will go on my shelves as a favorite to keep for all time."

"Strong praise indeed! Perhaps I will purchase my own copy. I truly don't lean towards novels, but as this convalescence stretches out I find the need for distration."

"How are your wounds healing, Richard," Georgiana asked with great concern. Her cousin had been returned to England just three months ago, severely wounded and still in danger. At the time Georgiana had been preparing for a summer at Ramsgate, but instead she and her brother had continued on to Portsmouth. Then they traveled by another ship up the Thames to London.

The unexpected deviation had turned out to be a blessing in more ways than one. First, her brother Fitzwilliam Darcy had finally broken himself out of the rut of working himself into the ground. Second, the journey together and their mutual concern for their cousin had restored something that was gradually becoming lost as they grew apart. And third and perhaps most important, the deviation had exposed the plot of Georgiana's then-companion, Abigail Younge. In a drunken moment of rage the woman had railed at the siblings for destroying the plan that she and her lover George Wickham had worked so hard to hatch!

George Wickham had been the son of the steward of Pemberley for many years. Being of the same age as Fitzwilliam, they had been childhood friends. Fitzwilliam and Georgiana's father had even been the boy's godfather and later supporter when the boy's parents passed away. The boy had turned out to be quite a deviant as he grew older, however, drinking, gambling, womanizing, and forever blaming others for his own misdeeds.

Darcy had known all of this but he had concealed it from his dying father lest it speed the man's demise. He had never even thought to warn his little sister since he was unaware of any association. Now that he knew of the plan, he did expose George Wickham's true nature to Georgiana. She, in turn, admitted to having greatly liked and esteemed the boy in her younger years. So both realized that the scheme might very well have worked had a disappointed Mrs. Younge not gotten drunk and exposed the truth.

Now the siblings and their cousin were in Darcy House, their London townhome. It was the height of the summer, however, and not a time that any of them would usually choose to remain in the great smelly metropolis. Unfortunately the doctors that Richard needed to see every two weeks were in this locale, so here they remained.

That all changed when Fitzwilliam Darcy returned to his home that day. With a pleased smile on his face, he explained what he had been doing on the previous day. "I took a ride north with Charles Bingley to help him to look over potential estates for him to buy lease."

"Lease?" Richard prompted, "Why not purchase. He is certainly flush with the funds for it."

"It was my suggestion. His father was the one who wanted him to become a landed gentleman. I am not confident that it is actually a dream that Charles shares. So I suggested he lease first, try his hand at running an estate, then decide."

"That actually makes good sense. I myself am an officer and cavalry man. My parents gifted me with a small estate in the hopes that I would abandon my commission, but I am not certain if it would be the life for me. So how went the search?"

"Good for both of us," Darcy smiled slightly, the equivalent of a beaming grin on any other person. "Charles found a small property with six tenant farms near St. Albans, and I found a property for us by the name of Netherfield near a small market town called Meryton."

Both sister and cousin looked surprised, but Georgiana spoke first, "For us? But why?"

"Because the air in London at this time of year is poisonous, and because Richard would do much better with fresh air and a place to walk and ride. It is near enough to Town that we can make trips to the doctor every two weeks. Who knows, as much as Dr. Rutherford enjoys the birds we might entice him to come to us instead. And it is near enough to Bingley's property that I can advise him, while being far enough removed that I... we... will not have to deal with his sisters."

Richard grinned, "That actually does have some appeal. What say you, Georgie? Ready for some country air?"

The fifteen year old rose quickly out of her seat, "I am. I'll let Mrs. Annesley know and then have my maid help me to begin packing."

Unexpected Encounter!

Elizabeth Bennet met Fitzwilliam Darcy for the second time (or the first time in-person) atop Oakham Mount one warm summer morning. She had just enjoyed the dawn on the horizon and was then sitting down to ponder a particularly troublesome section of her second book when her huge pup Cerberus suddenly stopped chewing on a flower and suddenly stood.

She heard the hoofbeats a moment later and laid a controlling hand on her four legged friend and protector, "Steady, Cerb. Don't frighten some poor person's horse." The handsome dog regarded her intelligently and then turned his head back toward the oncoming visitor.

A moment later Elizabeth was shocked as a face that she had only seen on canvas and in her dreams crested the hill and entered into the clearing on a tall black stallion. She stood frozen for a moment until her dog's slight growl shook her out of her surprise. "Steady Cerberus."

The tall man tipped his tophat and said, "I apologize. I wanted to see the view from the crest and simply followed the obvious trail. I did not mean to startle you."

Elizabeth smiled at the handsome man, "You have nothing to apologize for, but I am afraid that you've just missed the dawn. It is quite spectacular on a foggy morning such as this. Now that you know the trail, sir, you should make the attempt again on the next such morning. I shall absent myself then so that you may enjoy it undisturbed."

"You need not on my account. You are obviously local to this area and therefore have first-claim. And I would never dare to challenge your very handsome and stalwart escort." He looked at the huge English mastiff with appreciation. "I beg your pardon, but if your chaperon will allow it, I will introduce myself?"

Elizabeth was tempted to tell the man that there was no need... that she knew his face much better than she should... but she wisely refrained and instead said, "Although it is not entirely proper, I think in this instance and in this setting we may look past certain restrictions. My name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, of Longbourn, which as the fog is clearing you may now see clearly there off to the west."

The tall man dismounted slowly, so as not to alarm the great beast of a dog, and then bowed slightly, "I am pleased to meet you, Miss Bennet. I am Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, in Derbyshire, and more recently the tenant of Netherfield Park... which I believe is..." he stepped toward the cliff to seek out his new temporary home.

"It it there, Mr. Darcy, to the East and three miles removed from my father's estate. It is also the most recent and modern manor, whereas Longbourn and Longbourn Village date back to well before the start of the Norman Conquest."

Darcy regarded her with interest at this information and suddenly realized that she was a remarkably attractive young woman, with the most fascinating figure and almost hypnotic eyes. He shook himself and looked toward the estate she described instead. "Ah, so the buildings arranged just so... was there once a surrounding wall and a motte and bailey at one time?"

"Yes, precisely. Our Norman ancestor took down the walls and razed the motte. The stone was used to form low boundary walls instead. It was his son who commissioned the building of the church you see there. They once controlled this entire valley for as far as the eye can see, but wars, conflicts, years of want and a few less than savory ancestors within the family line lost or sold portions until we are now only the second largest estate in the area." She did not have the heart to say that the estate would be lost to the Bennets forever when her father passed due to the entail.

Darcy nodded, "I understand the frustrations in that. My ancestor once owned a vast property and a title, but he made the wrong choice during the Cromwell years and lost his head as well. The family established again in Derbyshire, stayed away from politics and titles, and managed to rebuild through honest hard work and sheer Darcy stubbornness."

Elizabeth had to be honest then, "I have seen your house and property, Mr. Darcy. When I was seven and ten I made the journey to Derbyshire with my aunt and uncle and we made a tour. I have never seen a place where has done more, or where natural beauty has been so little contradicted by awkward taste. Your ancestors are to be commended."

This surprised Darcy, though he supposed that it should not have. Many, many people had taken the tour of his home. He did not like it, but it was the current trend. Yet the nature of this young woman's praise was different. It was all things complimentary, but not gushing or silly. In fact she had put into words precisely what he had always felt about Pemberley. "Thank you. You have a gift for words which I shall remember." He was pleased and intrigued to see the young lady blush. Very pretty. "Now, I am afraid that I have imposed on propriety as much as I dare at this time. We would not wish to offend your most benevolent chaperon. Perhaps we will meet again in a more acceptable setting when I, my sister, and cousin commence our visits." He bowed.

Elizabeth smiled, happy at the prospect of seeing this handsome and very fascinating man again soon. She returned his bow with a curtsy, then watched as he effortlessly mounted, turned, and rode away. Then she turned to Cerberus, "Most fascinating indeed. He did not seem anywhere near as stone-faced as I first assumed. Perhaps I shall have to make a new sketch of his character."

A new sketch

Elizabeth chose discretion upon her return to Longbourn that morning. When her father greated her with a wave from his study, she merely smiled and returned the gesture. When the others awoke one by one and stumbled in to break their fast, she maintained her silence.

But when she adjourned to her room that day, she put pen to paper and created a new verbal sketch of the man whose sudden but very vibrant presence had created such an impact on her senses. Six months later, when her second book appeared in book stores all over the island nation, some would remark that the main male protagonist was somewhat like the her first story, only kinder and gentler. Those that fell in love with the first story fell even more deeply for the second, and those who either had not read or had not liked the first story felt inexorably drawn into the second tale.

Prior to all of this, however, Elizabeth Bennet and the entirety of greater Meryton came to know the Darcy siblings and their wounded cousin. The presence of said affable cousin and a shy sister forced Mr. Darcy to come out of his carefully constructed shell and to be more sociable. There was also the draw, of course, of one particular one lady, Elizabeth Bennet.

It was Georgiana Darcy who first locked onto the truth of Elizabeth's other identity. She had not missed the fact that Elizabeth fingers, when not concealed in gloves, were noticeably ink-stained. As this was much more than just what might be seen from a proficient letter writer, Georgiana concluded that the young woman whom she had befriended had a literary bent. Georgiana and Richard also noted that Fitzwilliam Darcy was quite taken with the intelligent beauty.

It was a chance statement during a pleasant walk. After a discussion on past unpleasant events in both of their lives, Elizabeth quipped, "I always say that we should remember the past only as it give us pleasure."

Georgiana stopped in her tracks and gleefully declared, "That's from Courage Rises! I also love that book! It is my favorite novel."

Elizabeth, unable to control her sudden blush or the smile that her young friend's declaration caused, turned her head away. Georgiana, was taller, however, and she immediately noted both. Being also clever, she immediately reached the correct conclusion, "You're the Story Lady! Tell me you are! I knew it when so many of your unusual turns of phrase seemed so familiar!"

Elizabeth reluctantly confessed that she was, in fact, the author of her friend's favorite novel. She was afraid that Mr. Darcy's sister would press further, but just then other friends walked up. Elizabeth quickly asked for and was promised Georgiana's silence on the matter.

Later that day, however, Georgiana unwittingly broke her promise when her cousin caught her reading Courage Rises once again. "Georgie, I will admit that it is a very good novel, but do you truly wish to read it for the tenth time."

Before she could stop herself, the young woman quipped, "Now that I know the author, the story means so much more..." then she raised her head in alarm and pleaded, "Richard! Please forget anything that I just said? Please?"

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was himself very clever, though. In an instant a hundred small clues fell into place. With a grin he asked, "Is is Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

"Yes! But I promised not to say anything and now I've already broken my promise. Please, Richard, don't tell a soul?"

Richard laid a gentle hand on his distraught young cousin's shoulder, "You have my promise, Little One... but it does make me remember that you once insisted the the character Liam Coursey was just like your brother."

The pair then spoke quietly about the book and that particular character and how much it matched their taciturn brother/cousin.

You knew me before you knew me

Darcy, who had been approaching the music room, had paused suddenly outside of the door at his sister's strident, almost pleading tone. Not intending to eavesdrop but anxious for his sister's distress, he then overheard the entire conversation.

Later that evening he noted where the novel had been placed. Once everyone else had gone to bed, he quietly made his way down to the music room, collected the abandoned novel, and took himself to his Netherfield study. There he quickly scanned the pages until he found the character that his sister and cousin had referenced. He remembered at their first meeting on the hill that Miss Elizabeth had visited his estate, so he had to wonder.

Being a private man, he was angry at first to have his privacy so invaded, yet as he continued to read he realized that if this was, in fact, a description of him then she understood him far better even than he understood himself. In fact, though the description was not entirely flattering, it revealed the sides of him that he had tried to hide... and suggested a depth of feeling in the author for the character that made his heart leap.

On the following morning when he again "accidentally" encountered Elizabeth on her favorite hill, he could tell that she was both agitated and embarrassed by his arrival. Wanting to quell her obvious discomfort, he stepped forward and took her hands. Cerberus had grown quite used to Darcy by that point, so he only gave the slightest chuff in warning, saying This I will allow, but no more.

"Elizabeth, what has you so agitated?" He asked, though he thought he knew the answer.

Elizabeth looked up into his eyes, "I do not wish you to be angry at me. I needed a character, then I saw the portrait. There was such a depth of feeling and emotion in those eyes that they just spoke to me. That same day I took pen to paper and the character just came to life. Please do not be angry at me? You know, do you not? I can see it in your eyes and expression."

"My sister did not break her promise, but I overheard her by accident. Then I read your novel myself."

"Are you angry? I meant no harm. Truly, I did not."

Darcy raised one hand to touch Elizabeth's cheek and Cerberus chuffed again, but Elizabeth's agitation stilled. Then he said, "You knew me before you knew me. I think, perhaps, you knew me better than I knew myself. Why should I be angry? You were incredibly kind in your description, in fact. But now you must answer a question in penance."

"A question?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth steeled herself, then said, "Ask your question."

"Is this how you truly see me. Am I the romantic hero in your thoughts? Do you... do you care for me?"

"That was three questions."

"Answer them please, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth."

"That is not fair. How else should I respond when you say something so beautiful."

"Will you not answer my questions?"

"I will. Yes. That was how I saw the man in the portrait, but now he is so much more. Yes, you are the romantic hero in all of my imaginings... and Yes, I care for you very deeply."

"Then you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you as well. Just as you knew me before you knew me, I have long known that there had to be someone out there who was fashioned for me, just as I was fashioned for her. From the moment I met you on this hill that first day months ago you have been the only woman that I have ever wanted for a wife. Will you marry me?"

Elizabeth Bennet, authoress and gifted wordsmith, could only nod with tear-filled eyes. When Darcy pulled her into a passionate kiss, Cerberus chuffed for a third time then gave up and went to chew on some flowers.

On a sidenote...

As hoped, Dr. Albus Rutherford was enticed to visit Netherfield and join in the hunting, as were several other friends. The "large party" never materialized, but over the course of four months several bachelors circulated through Netherfield and participated in local gatherings.

As a result several other pairings took place: Thirty-five year old Albus Rutherford was quite impressed with Charlotte Lucas and began to court her. Within six months they were married and she was installed in his large home in Greenwich.

The colonel himself took an immediate and very particular shine to Miss Jane Bennet. This prompted him to speed his recovery because he wanted to claim as many of her dances as possible. He eventually claimed her heart. He sold his commission after that and they took up the running of his estate in the north. Having learned much about estates and farming from his cousin, he and Jane did very well for themselves.

With the very obvious absence of Darcy from the home of Charles Bingley, Caroline Bingley and the Hursts never took up residence. He and Darcy exchanged many visits (which he concealed from his sisters) and therefore he met the people around Meryton. He was first interested in Jane Bennet, but quickly saw that the colonel had stolen the march on him. Then he turned his attentions on Louisa Long, beginning a courtship that would eventually end in a happy marriage.

As much as the Darcys and their cousin cherished Netherfield for what it gave to each of them, they resolved not to continue the lease after that first season... it was just too close to Longbourn and a certain mother. Since Charles Bingley found fulfillment in running an estate but found too many problems with the other estate, he took over the lease and eventually purchased the estate... a situation that pleased Mrs. Long and left Mrs. Bennet quite put out.

George Wickham never entered the neighborhood. In the conversation in London where Lieutenant Denny attempted to recruit him, Denny happened to mention that Colonel Fitzwilliam was also in the neighborhood. That was enough to frighten the scoundrel away. He lingered in London a few weeks too long and one of the less than savory debt collectors captured him. There is no further history available from that point.

Between the two elder sisters and their husbands they managed to introduce future husbands to each of the three remaining Bennet daughters, even high-strung Lydia. Mrs. Bennet should have been grateful but she often bemoaned the fact that all five of her children were settled quite far away from Longbourn. The girls and their husbands were quite pleased with the that particular fact, however.

"The Story Lady" went on to write five more novels after the first two, with various levels of popularity. Those who knew the truth could find themselves in some of the novels, a fact that thrilled them since the author was complimentary of those particular characters (it should be noted that Lydia never knew the true author of those books). One particular character, with various facets featured of course, made his appearance in every novel. Of course who could blame the author, since that character also held the most prominent place in the author's heart and her daily life.

The portrait done in Darcy's twenties was eventually replaced with another by the same famous artist. In this second one he stands behind and slightly to the side of a beautiful woman, surrounded by four handsome and beautiful children. The notable difference in this portrait of the man is that there is no sadness in those eyes in fact the man in the second portrait seems quite content with how his life played out.

AN: Due to some reviews and PMs on my last story I have gone back and added an addendum. That is all that I will say on that matter, so please do not ask.