A/N: Thanks for reading, favoriting, following, and (especially) reviewing!
So it seems like there are differences between browser and app settings on notifications, and also that FF can be inconsistent (or have difficulty?) with making sure notifications work. Looks like the consensus is that it would be appreciated if I note changes done on a chapter within an author note, and also mention if the changes are minor or more major. So that's what I'll be doing. It was interesting to read everyone's take on it. I *had* only been updating previous chapters at the same time as I posted a new one to make sure that excessive notifications weren't bothering people. Given the various answers, I think I'll stick to that also.
There are no changes to previous chapters this time around.
We are so (so!) close to Darcy and Elizabeth's first actual interaction here, but at just over 5,000 words and a great natural stopping point, this chapter does not include that. Regardless, it's been a lot of fun to write.
Enjoy! -Cognisance
Fate and Folly
By Cognisance
Chapter 6
"There is a wide variation in how the first meetings go in those who are marked. Most infrequent are those who upon seeing their match, are immediately assured that this is the one who bears the same mark that is upon them. Almost as rare are the cases where one (or both) of the marked upon initially seeing each other have no indication that this is their soul mate." – On Soulmarks by Manuel Kant
Tuesday, October 15th, 1811
At the Meryton Assembly
Mrs. Bennet had chivvied everyone out the door early. Not even Lydia got an extra minute. Not that she needed it tonight. With Jane and Sarah caring for her clothing and hair, all her usual last minute switching of ribbons or attempting to take someone else's gloves or shoe roses did not happen. Elizabeth was quite pleased as they all got into their outerwear and headed out to the carriage. She had to admit that Lydia did look very well. Jane had achieved just the right balance of the girlishness that Lydia's age required and the sophistication that her personality desired. Elizabeth sacrificed for Mary's sake upon entering the carriage and took the seat next to Mr. Collins who politely handed the ladies in before clambering in himself. There was a bit of a fuss when Mr. Bennet did not appear, but as Elizabeth had already explained he would not be attending, Jane was able to soothe Mrs. Bennet's nerves with very little trouble. While Elizabeth, Jane, and Mary were feeling a slight trepidation about how the evening would go, it was still a cheerful ride over, even if the conversation tended to ridiculousness.
Mr. Collins offered his arm to Mrs. Bennet and Jane after they had all disembarked, but released them soon after escorting them in, as Mrs. Bennet immediately moved to engage Lady Lucas in whatever gossip she could, and Jane trailed along to keep an eye on her. Elizabeth got Mr. Collin's attention before he could focus on Mary again, it was time to start her next campaign. And Mary, having been briefed ahead of time, took the opportunity to slip after Lydia and Kitty. "Mr. Collins," Elizabeth said as he turned to look at her.
"Yes, Cousin Elizabeth?"
"Perhaps we could step over this way to discuss something for a moment?" She gestured towards the wall by the card room. Their mother had done such an excellent job at hurrying everyone that not even a single game was going yet, and the hall was truly still quite bare. Musicians were just trailing in with their instruments, and servers were covering the table that would soon hold the refreshments.
"Of course, lead the way, Cousin Elizabeth."
Elizabeth began again as soon as they were far enough away from prying ears. "I know that Lady Catherine de Bourgh is truly a paragon, and I am not denigrating her knowledge at all. But I have been thinking about it seriously this past week. Were you aware, Sir, that my father was a fellow at Oxford?"
Mr. Collins shook his head, "No, I thought that he had always been the heir of the estate."
"No, no, his older brother was the master of Longbourn. Alas, and as happens at times, my uncle and his match passed shortly after his father, and before any children were born." Elizabeth held up a hand here to stay Mr. Collins condolences. "I say this only to bring up the pertinent point. You realize that Oxford has within its library the most comprehensive book collection on Soulmarks in England, and quite possibly the world."
Mr. Collin's brow furrowed, and he nodded his head slowly. "Yes, I do believe that I have heard that, although as that is not my Alma Mater I have not seen it for myself.
"So you see, when my father said that he had researched the unusual phenomenon of his having a third and then a fourth child receive a soulmark, he had access to a vast amount of tomes."
Mr. Collin's nodded again.
"Mr. Collins, Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a women with much knowledge of the world, I am sure. But if she had never heard of this happening before, how would she have looked into it and read of the possibility in the countless dry and dusty works? Would she have even cared if not for the fact that it may affect your marital status?"
"I think that I may see your point, Cousin Elizabeth."
"And also, Sir, you have been around my family this past week, you have seen how exemplary my sister Mary's behaviour is. Do you not see also how anathema to her it would be to pretend to have a soulmark which she does not in actuality possess?"
Mr. Collins head dropped, and Elizabeth pressed one last time, risking a bit of vulgarity, "As a final point, I also assure you that she does indeed have one. While Mary feels it would be improper to wear a dress immodest enough to show it off," Elizabeth curved her fingers around her shoulder and upper arm to blatantly hint at where Mary's mark was, "I have seen it. Not only have I seen it, but we celebrated the day the first outline appeared."
Mr. Collins looked resigned yet troubled at the same time, "Cousin Elizabeth, I thank you for taking the time to so fully discuss this with me. I do think that you have, in the manner of elegant females, expressed yourself very clearly yet stayed within the appropriate bounds of delicacy. However, Lady Catherine has told me that it is right for a rector of my status to set a good example for the parish and to marry. She sent me here in the hopes of easing your mother's and younger sister's burdens (as I have mentioned she does not feel that an entail is a fair thing to the females of a gentleman's family), to wit, by finding a wife. If Mary is not available for me to wed, what am I to do?"
Elizabeth mentally cheered, leading him had been easier than she thought it would be. She had expected him to make some comment on letting his understanding guide her as she was of the weaker sex or some such and it was a relief that they had reached this point so quickly.
"Well, Mr. Collins," she gave him a small smile, "While some days it might feel like our house contains all the females in Meryton, that is certainly not the case. As you have stated before, you are looking for a woman who does not mind serving others or being economical, one who can run your house efficiently and will get along well with Lady Catherine. I may know just the person you seek. If you will give me until the end of the first dance, I shall acquaint you with her before our set, and if you so choose, you may ask her to take my place on the floor."
Mr. Collin's relief was evident at these words, and he bowed quite low and spoke for a few minutes more to her. By the end of his garrulity, she rather thought that she ranked just below Anne de Bourgh in his estimation and was hopeful that this would bode well for the match she hoped him to make. At an opportune break she shooed him off to speak to Sir Lucas so that she could finish her next task in time to keep an eye on Lydia during the dancing.
_-F&F-_
While watching for her next target, Elizabeth took a moment to check on Mary. She was standing by Kitty and Lydia. She was looking primly proper and perhaps a bit disapproving of the way Lydia was speaking to the Goulding boys. Kitty, Elizabeth noted, looked more subdued than was normal, she was closer to Mary than Lydia or the boys, and while she had a smile on her face it did not seem like she was engaging much with them. Elizabeth wondered if this was still backlash from the ribbon episode earlier that day, or if there was more going on in Kitty's mind since the advent of the militia and their cousin. Perhaps all my younger sisters have depths unfamiliar to me. She had been so wrapped up in her own concerns and in viewing them as her father did that she had surely missed many chances to foster true regard among them instead of just a (slightly pained) familial loyalty. Her mind flitted back through remembered interactions with her three younger sisters over the past years and she was dismayed at how dismissive she had been in those memories. A chill overtook her and she absently rubbed at her arms. Perhaps- She was startled out of her contemplation when the woman she had originally been looking for stepped in front of her, patting a strand of hair into place.
"Eliza! I must say I was hoping you would be early, we have not had a chance to see each other yet this week and I was missing you."
"Charlotte!" Elizabeth smiled, tucking her melancholy away for the time. "How nice to see you this evening. This week has seemed to last an age! Is that a new gown you are wearing as well?"
Charlotte smiled back. "It is a new gown." She looked self-consciously down at it, before laughing. "Truthfully it was almost done when mother heard that there would be new gentlemen here, and she marched back into Mrs. Bell's to change the trim and add some nicer lace."
"You look very well in it."
"Thank you, Eliza. And you, you look beautiful tonight. But that is not a new gown, so who was the 'as well' for?"
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows and laughed. "Must you even ask? Jane and Lydia are both in the newest fashion that we have heard of from our aunt. Mary, Kitty, and I are to wait until after the New Year."
"Of course, I should have guessed as much. But, Eliza," Charlotte looking in confusion at Elizabeth's neck, "Where is your pearl? It goes so well with your cream and yellow gown, the chain did not break or some such?"
Elizabeth scowled, "No. I am just not allowed to wear it tonight. That was my punishment for getting too clever with Lydia. The devious little so and so." She pressed a hand to her side to keep from scratching at her mark. It had been slightly bothersome most of the day but would flare with a brief intense itchiness occasionally.
Charlotte grinned, "This sounds like you have a tale to tell, do not keep me in suspense!"
Elizabeth had just opened her mouth when the sound of the instruments being tuned and warming up intruded. "Oh, Charlotte, I would, but I have something of more importance to discuss."
"All right, but I will hear the story later?"
"Of course, you will like how neatly Lydia turned the tables on me when I thought I was being so clever. But here, let us sit and move onto other matters." Elizabeth said, gesturing to the still empty chairs where the matrons usually congregated once the dancing commenced.
Once they were settled she began, "You had heard of course that our cousin is in town. I know you were unable to make it to my aunt Phillips party, but surely you have heard the gossip."
Charlotte nodded, "In fact, we saw him briefly yesterday when he visited my father with yours. They were in my father's study, we were not introduced, but I did see him. He has a living in Kent?"
"Yes, and he is the heir presumptive to Longbourn. Your father is speaking to him now." Elizabeth gestured towards Mr. Collins and Sir William, who had been joined by the younger Mr. Lucas as well. Charlotte studied him as Elizabeth continued. "Well, he has come to Meryton to look for a wife."
Charlotte's eyebrows went up at this and she turned back to her friend. Elizabeth nodded meaningfully at her. "Yes, and I think he has finally accepted that my parent's daughters are all marked."
"Which means. . ." Charlotte's voice trailed off speculatively,
"Which means he is looking for a practical, pragmatic, and patient woman who can put up with him…and his patroness."
"Eliza." Charlotte said in a slightly scolding tone. "If you must tease, please do not do so alliteratively. You know I despise that in writing and poetry. I am not a five year old you are trying to teach the alphabet to."
Elizabeth grinned at her, "It was only the truth and put as clearly, concisely, and conscientiously as I could. Well?"
Charlotte glared even as she laughed, "You think I would have a chance?"
"I told him that I would introduce him to just the type of woman he sought."
A Charlotte's face grew serious a hopeful look blooming, "Oh, Eliza, it would be wonderful if. . ."
"I do not want to cause you distress, but he is a bit of a fool." Elizabeth said, also turning serious, wanting her friend to have the full picture. "He talks overly much. He almost venerates his patroness. He is not the most graceful." Elizabeth wished that Mr. Collins were more even as a stray thought passed through wondering just how he would dance, given how clumsy he seemed. She brushed it away as inconsequential, but as that thought left, a feeling of guilt took its place; it almost felt as if she were throwing Charlotte the leftovers from the table. After all, just because she was not marked did not mean she did not deserve to marry for love.
"Eliza, you know, for we have oft spoken of it, that I only want a secure home. I am not marked. I have no need for a grand love match. A comfortable home and respectable husband will do for me. My eyes are open and I think that if I had a twelve month to get to know my future husband (whether Mr. Collins or anyone else) our chance of happiness would be no greater than if we only had a week to get to know each other."
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, "That is not sound in most cases. You know that is not sound, Charlotte. However, with Mr. Collins. . ." she sighed, "I fear very much that what you see is all that you will get. He is attentive and not heartless. There is an odd mixture of servility mixed with pride in his manner, but having such a sensible wife as you would likely help to smooth out those edges. Especially if you could siphon some of the devotion he has towards Lady Catherine and direct it towards yourself instead."
Charlotte nodded before adding, "And while he may not have the most picturesque of male forms, the worst that can be said of him is the same as the worst that is said of me. He is plain. But at least it looks like he cares for his clothes and person." She stopped abruptly to eye Elizabeth. "He does bathe and wear clean clothes, does he not?"
"Yes, he is almost a bit fussy about it. He asked for his shirts to be pressed again as one was not quite to his liking the other day."
"Then I foresee that we would be not unlike my own parents in the years to come. It is not a bad picture. They are happy together- despite father's awe of St. James and court."
"It is decided then, Charlotte. I will introduce you to him, and you may feel free to attach him if you so choose. And on behalf of our family, I thank you. I believe that if you do suit, he will be able to depart with as much goodwill towards our family as he may have. Now, though, it looks as though the first set will be commencing shortly, and I must find Lydia."
_-F&F-_
Elizabeth spotted Lydia a few minutes later, she was with Mr. Denny already on the floor, and despite the triumphant smirk Lydia presented Elizabeth with when their eyes met, Elizabeth was grateful for the chance to sit out the first dance. If she needed to set Lydia down later in the evening, perhaps it would be better if Lydia had this small taste of victory to help keep her focused rather than giving up. Kitty was dancing with one of the Goulding boys-James- Elizabeth thought-although the two were alike enough in looks, age, and manners that it was difficult to tell from this distance- and not too far away from Lydia. Elizabeth wanted to collapse onto a chair in a truly unladylike manner, the evening had barely started and she was already feeling tired, but she forced herself to stay upright, greeting acquaintances and friends and filling her dance card. She had briefly considered joining Mary and her mother, but it looked like all was well in hand there. Mrs. Bennet was still speaking with Lady Lucas, the two of them had positioned themselves relatively near the door, and were frequently glancing at it in obvious anticipation of the arrival of the Netherfield party. Until they showed up, it was unlikely her mother would be moving or speaking of anything else. Jane was dancing with Mr. Collins and Elizabeth shuddered at the spectacle he was making. Perhaps her consideration of his dancing prowess was not as inconsequential as it first appeared. It seemed likely that if he danced all the dances he was engaged already for, one of the Bennet sisters (or Charlotte) would be going home injured. Perhaps Charlotte would be better off sitting and talking rather than getting to know of him while dancing. The first dance finished, and as promised Elizabeth introduced Charlotte to Mr. Collins. Elizabeth was very happy to see that Mr. Collins evinced no sign of dissatisfaction with Charlotte's lack of striking beauty, and in fact seemed to eye her with some appreciation, before asking her for a dance. Elizabeth hid her wince as Charlotte agreed and Mr. Collins offered her his arm before leading her into place as the next dance was about to begin. Elizabeth had missed her chance to catch Lydia in between the sets, but she found Lydia again on the dance floor. This time, Lieutenant Wickham was leading her into place. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at the couple. There was something about the man that made her uneasy. Her mark flared again briefly, and she clenched her hands until her fingernails had imprinted in her palms to restrain herself from itching at it. What is wrong with me today?
_-F&F-_
Tuesday, October 15th, 1811
On the road to the Meryton Assembly
Caroline Bingley's voice was going to pierce his skull. They would find him dead in the morning: He was sure of it. Between the headache from her voice, the hacking cough he was forcibly holding back from the chill he had received, being in these close quarters with her perfume, and the constant aggravation from his mark, he thought he might even prefer it. He would miss Georgiana and Richard. And it would be sad to never ride his horses again. Never to see Pemberley, nor read a book from his magnificent library. Never even have the chance to meet his soul mate. Darcy grinned in the dark at the melodramatic turn of phrase, well that last was not such a loss, was it? You could not miss what you had never had. The thought sent a fierce twinge down his side and he clapped a hand over it, wishing he was back in his warm room where he could be out of these uncomfortable clothes. He had checked earlier, when he had changed for the dance, and despite the constant discomfort, the mark looked no different than normal.
"But Charles!" came Miss Bingley's outraged voice rose again out of the darkness, and Darcy winced. "We have only been here a day. Mr. Darcy has only been here hours. I still say that if you had consulted the wishes of your party we would yet be at Netherfield. Or better -"
"Enough, Caroline. We are here. You have already delayed us enough that you should be pleased about how little time we will have left to dance. I am sure the first will be well past. You had best turn the rest of the evening to your advantage as you may, instead of complaining so excessively about it." Miss Bingley fell silent and Darcy shivered as he could feel the wheels in her mind spin. Surely, she was now contemplating standing up with him, and showing 'the country mushrooms' (as she so enjoyed labeling the locals) what true fashion was like.
Darcy started as Bingley jabbed an elbow into his side, then leaned over to mutter in his ear. "I'll do what I can to keep Caroline off you tonight. But I apologize in advance, for I am afraid that she is scheming again, and I do not know how successful I shall be."
Darcy shrugged and said self-deprecatingly back in a hoarse whisper, "Do not worry about me over much. You know how good I am at maneuvering away from women and propping up walls."
Bingley barked out a laugh, "That you are. Perhaps then, instead of keeping Caroline away, I shall leave that to you and instead try to help expand your view on dancing with the local beauties tonight!"
Darcy shuddered at that thought, "Do not you dare, Bingley."
The carriage jolted to a stop and Darcy exited before Bingley and Hurst then waited for the both of them to hand out the women. The night air was frigid and he took shallow breaths to try to avoid the pain it was causing his lungs. He sidestepped and clasped his hands behind his back when Miss Bingley eyed his arm, making it clear that her brother would be escorting her in. She made a moue of displeasure before reluctantly taking her brother's arm.
The horses moved restively behind them as the driver waited for them to move a safe distance before taking the carriage around. "How tedious this night shall be. I do hope, Charles, that you shall not leave Mr. Darcy or I to fend for ourselves while you gad about with the local barbarians." Her disapproving voice carried through the stillness of the evening. Theirs was the only carriage in front of the hall, and it was clear that their entrance had indeed moved beyond fashionably late and into just late. Darcy absently noticed one of the footmen at the door glancing at Miss Bingley with distaste, before remembering himself and forcing his features back into a more neutral expression. As they ascended the stairs the doors swung open and Darcy was hit with a blast of heat, noise, and light. His headache, which had been hovering between uncomfortable and throbbing, suddenly doubled and he blinked back against the sudden watering of his eyes. Reactively he raised his hand against the sudden onslaught and took a deep breath. The night, which he had already been dreading, now loomed ahead like he was facing the Inquisition. If Richard had been here, he would have grinned at Darcy's discomfort and said his favorite old maxim upon an occasion such as this, 'Once more into the breach, old fellow?' He would have followed that up with an elbow into Darcy's side. Darcy whispered the saying, but forbore trying to recreate the elbow, as he moved into the main room behind Bingley and Miss Bingley, Hurst and Mrs. Hurst, after being divested of his outerwear. One step, then another, a seam of pain suddenly ran down his side and he stumbled slightly, gritting his teeth together against the desire to grab at his mark and double over on the ground. What is wrong with the blasted thing?
_-F&F-_
Tuesday, October 15th, 1811
At the Meryton Assembly
George Wickham froze as he spotted his archnemesis walking in through the door. With an inaudible curse, he pretended to stumble while dancing and with an apology to Miss Lydia led her off the floor and into the crowd away from the man.
"Are you all right, Mr. Wickham?" She asked as he led her towards an empty darkened corner.
"Of course, Miss Lydia, I am afraid that I turned my ankle a bit and must rest, but only for a moment or two." He gestured towards a chair, and she sat gracefully, a winsome smile on her face, that he thought must have been well practiced. He should know, he had his own version.
"While I would much prefer to be dancing with you," she fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly, "I would also rather be sitting out with you than dancing with any of the other gentlemen here." Wickham concealed his smirk at her blatant flattery, the little chit was falling so neatly into his plans. He seated himself beside her, not bothering to favour his foot as he did so.
"The last time we happened upon each other in Meryton, as you were on your way to visit your aunt," he gave her a sly wink here and she giggled in response, "I had made a request for your assistance. Have you considered it anymore?"
"I have to admit, I am a bit confused. You are saying that you would pay me to put a mark upon your wrist?"
Wickham smiled and glanced around conspiratorially (although in truth checking to make sure he was still invisible to Darcy), "Now, Miss Lydia, a gentleman such as myself would never put a lady such as you in a position that might inadvertently compromise you. You could do this small thing for me as a friend, and I would be grateful. Then at some point in the near future, you may happen to find a sum of money on your estate, which would clearly belong to no one and so you could quietly claim it as your own."
Lydia giggled again, "Of course. What would you wish me to draw?"
"Oh, a trifling mark, not too difficult at all. I could bring you a drawing of it later." He leaned in closer to her, "Although it would be better if you could draw it upon my calf, instead of my wrist?"
The girl flushed and raised slightly scandalized eyes to meet his own. He smiled his most boyishly rakish smile, the one that he had practiced in front the mirror. She still looked a trifle uncertain. "We shall have to see, Mr. Wickham. It would be much more difficu-" She stopped mid-sentence as a loud commotion was heard by the entrance. Miss Elizabeth stepped up beside them at the same time, although instead of saying anything she too was attempting to peer over heads to see what was taking place.
"Oh, how I wish I was taller." He heard her murmur, but had no intention of possibly drawing attention to himself by helping her solve the puzzle. Lydia had risen and was standing on her tip-toes next to her sister. I only needed another moment or two. I am so close to achieving what I had thought was an impossibility! He frowned not wanting to wait, but knowing that any further conversation with Lydia was likely to be impossible this evening. Why the devil is Darcy here anyway? And does this mean Georgiana shall be coming. That thought made him smile. What had been a long and unprofitable summer and fall would be looking up if that was the case. In the earl's household, Wickham, unfortunately, had no chance to further his and Mrs. Younge's previously foiled scheme. But now, now I will not need to fake anything, and I will not need to share any of my glorious profits. And if Georgiana comes to Meryton, I shall not need to risk catching the attention of the earl's guards. An unholy glee bubbled up, he would truly have the winning hand then. He would stay at the far, far, edges of the dance tonight to catch what gossip he could while avoiding Darcy's notice. After all, no need to set the man on guard before Wickham could strike.
Wickham stood also and stepped to Lydia's side, "Miss Lydia, while it has been a pleasure this evening, I am afraid my foot is paining me enough that I shall not dance anymore. Perhaps I shall see you soon." He put a bit of extra inflection upon 'soon', and lifting her hand, took the chance to bestow a quick kiss upon the inside of her wrist.
Lydia had turned her eyes upon him at his first murmur, and while a pout began to form, it changed into a bright blush before her hand had been released. "I am sure you shall, Mr. Wickham." He smiled again at her before turning to go. The last thing he noted as he moved off was Miss Elizabeth staring at him with narrowed eyes. It would probably be a good idea to avoid her also. There was no sense in stirring up a protective older sister before necessary either.
_-F&F-_
Mr. Bingley felt a strange tingling sensation just above his heart as he stepped into the Meryton Assembly Hall. Startled by it he looked down and rubbed at his mark before looking up and straight into the eyes of an angel. He was stunned speechless, and it appeared she was the same for her blue eyes were wide with shock-her hand also pressed just below her collarbone.
He was jostled by his sister, who hadn't stopped when he had, and was now tugging him forward. "Charles!" Her voice was lost on him; he dropped her arm without a thought. He was avidly taking in every bit of the most perfect woman he had ever seen. His eyes swept down her willowy form then back up to focus on the five little specks on her nose.
"She even has the freckles," he choked out before taking a hesitant step forward, and then another, as his angel matched his pace. The last few feet were a blur, he didn't even need to see the mark to know. Suddenly, she was in his arms and he was spinning her around, laughing joyously. At long last he had found her.
Now.
Now his life could begin.
_-F&F-_
A/N: I wish I had time to respond to everyone. But again, thanks especially to all the reviewers.
J.W. Garrett: Lydia is indeed a very loose cannon! I know that I was mixing metaphors, and also that 'house of cards' wasn't a saying yet (according to Google anyway), but it was a fun way to portray her. If I ever do more with this story, perhaps I'll switch that out for something to do with Mt. Vesuvius instead. Good guess on which choice Mr. Bennet was going to make. As for Mrs. Bennet wrangling (or not): Can you imagine Mrs. Bennet's response in the original if she KNEW that Bingley was going to marry Jane? :D
Levenez: Hopefully this chapter makes it clearer that Mr. Darcy's illness and his soulmark bothering him are two different things, but just in case it didn't clear it up enough. They are two different things. There is an excellent story out there (I *think* it was called Sole Mates? But don't quote me on that, it's been awhile since I read it (even if that's not the story, that was a great one too)) where Elizabeth and Darcy were literally stuck together as they danced until they got their act together and worked out their issues. It gave me the idea for having the soulmarks not always be static symbols. In my story, I'm trying to use it as a type of foreshadowing, if they don't have issues to work out, there would be no pain associated with the marks. Darcy's mark is bothering him more than Elizabeth's because. . .well, you get it. (If I can find the story, I'll try to remember to post it in my next author's notes. )
Tnet: Thanks for the reminder that I hadn't put where Lydia going when she went into town alone yet. If I hadn't read that, it probably would have been awhile before I remembered to slip it in, as that was a note I was trying to hold mentally. I'm not great at that. I'm glad the quotes have clarified soulmarks for you. My daughter was laughing at the 'books' I was writing to explain them and then she was also sad that no one would get to read the totality of those.
FineEyesPrettyWoman: I think you've got a good system. I never paid attention to notifications either, which was one reason why I had questions about it.
I really do think the comments really are helping push this story along quicker. I've got a few more stories that I'm trying to get to a more completed state before beginning to post, but I'm thinking especially during the winter when I have a bit more inside time that this is a fun way to kind of force myself to keep moving on a story. And it's good practice for making me write the story chronologically too. Otherwise, my habit is to write scenes that are central to the plot and then start tying them together with the necessary less dramatic parts.
Laina Lee: As you can see, you made some pretty good guesses. 😊 I'm not commenting yet on your last three sentences from your December 14th review.
EmlynMara: Thanks for the comment, I now have two more story prompts where Darcy isn't forced to go to the assembly. :D Someday the story might get written! I'm glad you like the changes.
LoveInTheBattlefield: Mr. Bennet is indeed a terrible father. Have you ever seen the movie Inside Out? This is a moment in Elizabeth's life where her core memories have changed. It's a heartbreaking thing to have happen when those memories aren't just now tinged with melancholy (which I think happens to everyone as we age) but fundamentally altered by seeing them from someone else's perspective and realizing that what you thought was special, wasn't at all to them. It's even worse if they were only manipulating you for their own benefit as happened to Elizabeth.
SamH294: Honestly, I had never thought about doing a chapter from Fate's perspective. I'll have to consider it! Maybe as the epilogue or part of it? I'm really glad you're enjoying the story.
