A few edits have been made to this chapter, due to some suggestions from kind reviewers.


"Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy breathed, his voice little more than a whisper. Upon seeing her, all thoughts of anything but her vanished from his mind.

Elizabeth blushed, ignoring the use of her Christian name, and greeted Mr. Darcy with a curtsy. "Good morning, Mr. Darcy."

"I was uncertain if you would still come here this morning or not," he said.

"I walk every morning," said Elizabeth with a raised eyebrow. "This is my favourite path."

"Yes. Indeed." Mr. Darcy was somewhat flustered, which was unusual for him. Elizabeth examined him out of the corner of her eye as they walked together.

"Are you well, Mr. Darcy?" she asked.

"I am. That is, I wished to speak with you this morning, originally about something else entirely, but I find myself greatly in need of your calming presence." He slowed his pace so he could look at her while he walked. "I had hoped that today would be a day of great happiness, but I find I am unable to even name all the emotions within me."

Elizabeth blushed under his intense gaze. She was quite certain now of her own feelings towards this man. How strange that before coming to Kent she would have thought him the last man in the world that she could ever be prevailed upon to marry, but now she was quite certain that he was the only man whom she might ever consider marrying. He had changed so much in recent days, or perhaps it was just her perception of him that had altered. Had she reason to hope?

"I am sure I shall be content to speak to you of whatever you need to speak of," was her eventual reply.

Darcy sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I do not even know if I ought to speak of it. It feels far too dreadful."

Without thinking, she reached out and grasped his hand in hers. "Speak, Darcy. You must. I see it troubles you beyond measure, whatever it is."

Her kind words and touch provided him with the encouragement he required. He poured everything out to her. When he told her the actual reason for Lady Catherine's death, she grasped his hand tighter. "How terrible that must have been for you to see," she whispered. "I am so sorry that you had to witness that."

"I am not," he replied. "I'd rather it be me than someone else. We have hushed it up, I think. We have been generous with the servants, so hopefully this will not bring dishonour upon our family. I'm afraid that my sister will eventually find out, though. No matter what, she will be grief-stricken, but if she believes Lady Catherine died of an aneurysm, it will be easier for her."

"Was your sister especially fond of Lady Catherine?"

"Not particularly, but she has a very soft heart. When she was a small child, when we would see an animal injured on the side of the road, she would beg me to stop and care for it. Often, all I could do was put the creature out of its misery, and then she would insist that we bury it. Once or twice we came upon dogs and cats who were not beyond help, and they now live at Pemberley or Brawnstead, growing fat from all the treats that she sneaks them."

"She sounds like a wonderful young lady," said Elizabeth with a smile that mirrored the expression on Darcy's face. "I understand why you would wish her to believe the story instead of the truth, at least while she is still young. When she is older, perhaps, she can be told the truth."

Darcy nodded. "She has suffered enough this year, I think."

Elizabeth agreed. Knowing now more of his sister's character, she found Mr. Wickham's actions even more deplorable. She hated the man for preying on a child so tender-hearted. She hated even more that she had ever believed Mr. Wickham's appearance of goodness. It was a lesson, she supposed, to not be so prejudiced in the future. Pleasant manners did not always mean that a person was trustworthy.

Before they could say anything more, the sound of a carriage drew their attention. They walked quickly towards the noise, finding a very fine vehicle pulling up in front of Rosings.

A distinguished-looking gentleman with grey hair and a well-groomed moustache stepped out of the carriage. He then assisted a lady, who appeared to be his wife due to her age and fine attire, down as well. Immediately, the lady rushed towards Mr. Darcy, without concern for Elizabeth's presence. The lady took up one of his hands and asked anxiously, "Why is the house in mourning? Has Anne…" She tried to finish her sentence, but her emotions overtook her, and she had to stop to compose herself.

"Cousin Anne had a fall, but is recovering. It is not she who has passed, but Lady Catherine. She had an aneurysm yesterday, which resulted in her death," Darcy explained calmly.

A cry sounded from behind the lady, and only then did Elizabeth notice there were several others present. Another gentleman and two ladies — one young and one of middle years — stood by the carriage. The younger lady was blinking back tears.

"Georgiana," said Darcy softly. He dropped his aunt's hand and went forward to his sister, taking her hand.

"I shall be well. It is not suitable to be so emotional in front of others," said Georgiana, as if reciting from a book on manners. She squared her shoulders and looked the picture of the phrase 'a stiff upper lip'.

"Shh," said Darcy. "It is a terrible thing that has happened. You need not stifle your feelings in front of us. We are family."

"But," said Georgiana, looking at Elizabeth.

"That is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, my dear Georgiana," said Darcy. "She is my friend, and shall not judge you for your grief." He ignored the conventions that mandated he pause and make introductions, instead gathering his sister into his arms as she gave way to tears.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, felt the eyes of all of the others turn towards her. Something in the way that Mr. Darcy had said the name of the lady and called her his friend made them all quite curious about who she was. Without Mr. Darcy to make introductions, they all stood quite awkwardly together.

"Well, I am Anderson Fitzwilliam, Viscount Barlow," said Lord Barlow eventually, when the awkwardness became too much for him. "It is very fine to meet you, Miss Bennet. This is my mother and father, the Earl and Countess of Melbridge, and Mrs. Annesley, Georgiana's companion. Georgiana, of course, is Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy's sister."

Curtsies, bows, greetings, and expressions of polite interest were made all around.

The sound of her name made Georgiana pull away from her brother and dry her tears. "I am sorry," she said.

"It is nothing," said Elizabeth kindly. "I am very glad to meet you, Miss Darcy."

"Oh, I am very glad to meet you as well, Miss Elizabeth. Will you not call me Georgiana? I feel as if I know you already. My brother has written so often of you, both recently and in the autumn." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at Darcy when his sister said this, which made him blush slightly. His cousin Andy did not miss the exchange, although his parents did not notice.

"If your brother thinks it is suitable, I will call you Georgiana if you call me Elizabeth." Elizabeth smiled at the young lady, who looked much older than her sixteen years. Much like Lydia, she was tall and had a womanly figure, which made people assume she was at least eighteen or nineteen. Only the immaturity of manner betrayed her actual age.

Darcy gave a nod to the ladies in agreement. "I would like it above all things if you two ladies were to be friends."

"That would be most agreeable, but I fear I should depart now," said Elizabeth. "I should leave you to refresh yourselves." She took leave of everyone, although she would have liked very much to remain.

The short walk back to the parsonage allowed her to clear her mind of a certain gentleman enough not to give herself away to her friend, but he was brought back to her mind when Mr. Collins announced that they were to dine at Rosings that evening.

"Dine at Rosings?" asked Mrs. Collins, incredulously. "They are in deep mourning!"

Mr. Collins did not appreciate the tone his wife held, implying that Miss de Bourgh acted amiss. "It is not a social dinner, my dear," said Mr. Collins. "I am to assist with the arrangements for the funeral and therefore after dinner we will do so."

Elizabeth shared the news of the other visitors at Rosings, and Mrs. Collins expressed her opinion that they ought to inquire if they were still to dine that evening. "Perhaps with so many people in residence and tired from their travels, they might not wish to entertain."

Mr. Collins was certain that his wife was incorrect, which was proven when a note came back from Rosings responding that the arrival of other guests had not negated the invitation.


"Darcy," asked Lord Barlow, "have you an understanding with Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

Darcy nearly spat out his drink at such a direct question from his cousin.

"I must admit to some curiosity there as well," said Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Darcy did not know the answer to that question, as he thought Elizabeth understood what he had been trying to tell her, but nothing was settled. "I think…unofficially, we do," he finally answered.

"You think?" asked Lord Barlow. "If you only think you do, then you do not."

"I do not wish to discuss this with the likes of you," said Darcy. "It is none of your business and I would thank you to stay away from her."

"Darcy," said Lord Barlow in a soothing tone, "do not misunderstand me. I might be a rake, but I do have some standards. I would not poach your lady. I only wished to understand what it was that I witnessed earlier."

Darcy relaxed slightly. "I am sorry. I know you would not. I do not know if I can properly call her my lady yet, but I would like her to be."

"You do know that she has only a thousand pounds?" asked Richard.

"What need have I for a large dowry?" asked Darcy.

"My parents will not be pleased," said Lord Barlow. "You know that they wished you to marry Lord Caron's daughter, or some other scion of nobility."

Darcy shrugged. "That has no bearing on me, any more than Lady Catherine's wish that I marry Anne did. I am my own man. I shall marry where I like."

"Good man!" said Lord Barlow with a laugh. "I am glad for you. To be honest, I had rather feared that Pemberley would pass to one of Georgiana's future children. To think that a country miss succeeded where all the ladies of the ton have failed."

Darcy grumbled a little, before turning the conversation to Lord Barlow's own prospects. He was not keen on settling down soon, although his parents dragged him from ball to ball. "None of them are as interesting as Miss House or the others. At least they have opinions, and do not just parrot back what I say. I am quite sick of proper young ladies."

This Darcy could not argue with, for it was what had drawn him to Elizabeth in the first place. He spent much of the rest of the afternoon with his cousins, speaking of anything and everything and enduring much teasing on the subject of romance.