AUTHOR'S NOTES: I am truly humbled by the amount of feedback I received for the last chapter. I know I always express my gratitude for my readers and reviews in the begining of every chapter, but w o w. Humbled is the best word. I'm at a loss. I'm almost 29. I first read Jane Austen at 11. I wrote my first fanfiction that I posted on this site (under a different pen name) at 13. It was pretty bad, to say the least. Being an insecure thirteen year old, I had a hard time reconciling that I wasn't this mind blowing author I was in my head.

The busy years of adolescence pulled me away from creative writing for a long time. It was only in my mind 20's that I found myself hit by a muse, and wanting to write again. Having such a fantastic response to this story truly makes me feel I have something to offer. I may never publish anything, but I am so grateful for this experience and the encouragement that I've been offered.

Thank you.

PS: This chapter contains references to sexual violence and abuse. No descriptive content of either.

"Miss Bernard? Madam?"

It was a gentle question which reached Elizabeth's ears, plaintive and coaxing. She knew that Parker, her lady's maid, and all the other staff who remained in her employ were becoming increasingly worried for their mistress. Intelligent and intuitive as she was, she could hear all the thoughts that Paulson would leave unspoken out of deference. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Lizzy appreciated her respect, but it only served to highlight the magnitude of her loss. She had no one left to chide her to eat, to scold her into resting, no shoulder she could cry on without thoroughly disrupting the social order of her household.

Darling Forelli had been buried that morning. First a quick Anglican service, and then his body had been transferred to a Catholic church so the Italian could have a proper Papist's funeral. It had been a strange affair for Elizabeth, who had never before attended a Catholic mass, and only had a smattering of Latin. Forelli had been far from devote in his faith, in fact he was rather more irreverent than not, but Lizzy knew how much pride the old man had taken in his Italian heritage - and his Catholic faith was intrinsically tied to that lineage. So a Catholic funeral had commenced.

As if in mockery of her own weary spirits, the sun had chosen this day, of all days, to finally emerge, burning away the clouds that had kept all of southern England captured in gloom. Though she was no relation of his, she was his heir apparent, and had donned a costume of full black to show the world how fully she would mourn this wonderful man. There had been few women in attendance at the service, but Lady Matlock had dared the approbation of Forelli's more conservative admirers to support her favorite pet. Elizabeth knew she was grateful for it, grateful to all who had paid their respects to the kind and brilliant man who had taken her in and given her the opportunity to thrive. In truth the day had passed in such a sun hazed blur that she hardly had a moment to register that gratitude before she was alone again.

Paulson, raised in the country herself, had almost as hearty a constitution for walking as Elizabeth. The early morning hours had been spent trudging the muddied grounds of Hyde Park, with the lady's maid and most stout footman in tow. They had travelled at a brisk pace, toes cold from mud and shoulders warm from the powerful autumn sun. She had been hoping - indeed, they had all been hoping - that such vigorous exertion would lead to a restful afternoon after the services in the fashionable hour of the day. She had not managed much sleep in the nights since Forelli's quiet passing. Elizabeth was consumed by a grief that allowed for no outlet, friendless and alone as she was in her mask of Adelaide Bernard. So she carried her pain close to her breast, letting bitterness numb her vivacious character.

"Miss Bernard?"

Came the gentle inquiry once lay in the darkness of her bed chamber, her favorite old muslin day dress dark as her mood. She knew that she could not go on ignoring her most devoted servant forever, no matter how much she desired solitude. "Yes?" She asked with a worrisome weariness.

Paulson entered, her sweet round faced marred with lines of anxiety. "I hate to disturb you, madam, but there is caller that demands an audience with you immediately."

The mistress's head snapped from her satin pillow with a sharp annoyance. "Have you lost leave of your senses? I am in mourning Paulson. I am certainly not at home to any callers."

The maid flinched at the tone of her mistress, but did not back down from the task at hand. "I apologize Madam. He was refused at the door, but began to cause such a scene on the street that we felt he must be admitted entrance if only to quiet him. Mr. Jeffries brought him to the drawing room and interviewed him. The gentleman insisted that he is a relation of yours and that you would be glad to see him, if only we would present his card."

A dizzying wave of fear rushed through Elizabeth, and blood rushed to her ears. A relation —- a relation? How could this be? Who could it be? How could she possibly have been discovered? Darcy was in Hertfordshire, he stayed in Netherfield, and so must have some contact with her family, but could he have possibly discerned so much? Was everything she had ever feared coming to fruition, and on this day of all the days of her sad little life? No, no, it was too soon, she had not yet reached her majority, and she was only a few short months away! She could not be revealed today of all days! Everything she had worked to gain would be taken from her, those she loved would be in danger again, and any attempt to protect them would be thwarted. It could not come to this after all of these years! Not today of all days… no, no, no….it could not be…it was impossible…this must be the trick of a cad intent on claiming some of Forelli's estate for himself…

She attempted to rise from the bed, but her legs crumpled beneath her and she gasped, falling to the plush carpet at her feet. Paulson was instantly beside her, lifting her mistress into a sitting position and tutting at her with gentle soothing words. Elizabeth could hear her familiar voice, soothing and gentle, but the words were lost behind the cacophony of panicked thoughts in her mind. Suddenly a small crystal decanter was being pressed into her hand, and her own lavender perfume intoxicated her senses.

The scent roused her somewhat, and her startling eyes peered into Paulson's doe brown with an intensity that discomposed her more than any fainting spell from her mistress could. "I am dreadfully sorry, Miss Bernard. I should have never importuned you. Is there anything I can fetch for you for your present relief? A glass of wine? A cup of tea? Truly, I did not mean to upset you. We will cast the gentleman out immediately!"

Elizabeth dismissed Paulson's worries with a wave of her slender hand. "Parker - the gentleman? You saw him?" She asked with powerful gravitas.

Paulson frowned. "Indeed Madam."

"Describe him to me."

With skilled hands, she removed the decanter from the hands of her mistress, and placed it on the bed side table. "Well Madam, he certainly looked the gentleman. Well dressed, but not garishly so. He wears a black arm band, which I can only assume is for Signore Forelli. He is middle aged, and tall, with dark, thinning hair."

Her heart pounded in her chest. No. It could not be him. He could not have found her, not today of all days.

Allowing Paulson to help her stand, Elizabeth grasped onto her arm with unusual fervor. "Paulson, this is very important to me. Did you have a good luck at the gentleman's face?"

"Certainly Madam, for a I stood only a few feet away as he explained himself to Mr. Jeffries. He claims to be an Uncle to you, Miss Bernard."

Her heart beat louder still. An Uncle? Could it possibly be that one of her relations had truly found her? An imposter attempting to importune a single woman living alone? Or her true fear…a cruel trick by her guardian in order to bring her downstairs and into harm's way. Tall…middle aged…dark hair…

She squeezed her eyes shut tight, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs of her near faint. The vision of Collins from her nightmare some weeks prior loomed before her mind's eye, sneering at her. "You ran because you are a coward. You return because you are a fool." Then Jane's voice followed, frightened and pleading. "Lizzy, please! I need you Lizzy!"

With a steadying breath, she opened them again. "My courage rises with every attempt to intimidate me." She repeated the mantra in her mind, willing it to be true. "I am not a child any longer. I must be brave - brave for Papa, for Jane, for all my sisters. For Forelli."

Looking to her faithful companion, she asked with the same grave, voice. " I can not stress the importance of this question enough. Was there anything remarkable about his face, Paulson? His eyes in particular?"

"Why no, Miss Bernard. He was rather average looking, though perhaps he was more handsome in his youth. His eyes were light…I was not close enough to make out the particular shade, though I think they were rather more green than blue."

The wash of relief which Elizabeth experienced with Paulson's intelligence was something she had never experienced before. A nervous laugh bubbled up her throat and hands raised to her wild curls, irretrievably mussed from lying abed. "Thank you, Paulson," She said, her voice unnaturally light. "Will you give me the card please?"

Paulson met her mistress's eyes with a skeptical look. "Are you sure that you want it at this moment, Madam? You do not seem yourself - we can tell the gentleman to call again tomorrow when you are more composed. It was very poor form for me to ask it of you on this day."

Past the initial shock and fear, Elizabeth's curiosity and anxiety could no longer wait another moment to be sated. "Paulson. Hand it over at once." She snapped.

The sweet faced woman gave a heavy frown, but did as asked, extending the card to her mistress without another word. It was a fine quality card stock with a neatly embossed name and address.

It read:

Mr. Edward Gardiner

Gardiner & Grange Import Exports

_ Cheapside, London

Tall. Middle Aged. Dark, thinning, hair.

Light eyes.

"Paulson, put me to rights as best as you can. And please ring to let the footman know that I will see Mr. Gardiner shortly."

"Very good Ma'm." Paulson replied primly.

Elizabeth's mind was in such confusion, her spirits so agitated, that she hardly noticed her maid's deft work of primping her mistress into a fresh and respectable mourning costume. Before she could fully comprehend it, she was standing in the hall outside her drawing her, trembling with powerful emotion. She could not be sure that it was safe or wise to see her Uncle Gardiner after so long, but to ignore him in her own home was impossible. She had spent so much of her time in London longing for her family, for the life left behind in Hertfordshire before tragedy had stricken the Bennet clan, and now family had found her. She had wanted to wait for her majority before she made any moves against her guardian and to reconnect with any of them…for her own safety as well as their own. Fate had other plans. Could she deny the hand of Providence at work?

The door was opened and she was being announced. Her feet were rooted in the doorway. There stood her Uncle Gardiner, almost exactly as she remembered him. Six long years! He was staring at her, mouth slightly agape, and did not bow, his shock and agitation were evident.

A rustle in the hall revived her from her stupor. Her footman shifted uncomfortably next to the door. "You may leave us, thank you." She said shakily.

She moved from the door frame stepping into the room, and the servant bowed and left them quite alone. She closed the door behind him.

"Can this be?" Uncle Gardiner whispered hoarsely. "Does a ghost appear before me?"

And as simply as that, all of Elizabeth's resolve crumbled. Even her skills on the stage could not repress the onslaught of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. The long anticipated tears rose to her eyes with all the ferocity of a river bursting through a dam. Heaving sobs racked her lithe frame. Her uncle stepped toward her, pressing a handkerchief into her hand, and lead her toward the sofa.

She could not be sure how long they sat like that, her sobbing and him gently patting her back and murmuring soft words of assurances. All she knew is that when she finally stopped long enough to meet his soft green eyes once more, he looked at her kindly and softly said. "I received an alarming letter two days ago, from the attorney of an old business associate. Should you like to read it?"

Elizabeth nodded vigorously, the knowledge dawning on her how such a meeting must have come to be before she even opened it.

It Read:

My Dear Sir,

If you are in receipt of this letter, I am sorry to inform you that I have left my mortal coil for the fields of Elysian. I am afraid that after you read this missive, you will have more questions than answers, and I will be no help to you in this regard. This is my deathbed confession, and as I promised to keep this secret to my grave, it could only be revealed to you after I have died.

You may recall that in the years of _ through _, we did a good deal of business together in the purchase of fabrics, specifically fine silks and satins. I was very busy during this time working on my final (and dare I say my finest) series of paintings - The Many Moods of Venus. Prior to our business together during that time, I had made one small purchase from you for a private commission, and made the acquaintance of your young niece, one Miss Elizabeth Bennet, whom I was most desirous to sketch for a study, as she had remarkably fine and expressive eyes.

My confession is this - that some months after our initial acquaintance, your niece, Miss Elizabeth, appeared on my door step in quite a bedraggled state, and asked, no, demanded, to model for me. I accepted her as my model, and she has lived with me, unmarried, since that time. In the event of my death, she has been named my sole heir, everything I rightly possess shall pass to her..

I am sure that reading this outrages you, and you have many questions. I shall answer any in my power, but there are many answers that belong to Elizabeth alone.

When she arrived in _, she denied me her true name, and gave one of Adelaide Bernard, insistent that I must have misremembered her. I knew that I had not, but could not understand her reason for secrecy. Aside from paying her for modeling, I also fed her and offered her a place to spend the night, knowing the streets of London are no place for a young girl. Finally, she offered me some sort of vague story, telling me that she was ruined, and that to work for me was her last resort before she began to look for work as scullery maid, young and unskilled as she was.

I am a soft-hearted man, Mr. Gardiner. I could not deny her. And I was very desirous to paint her - she had become something of a muse for me since we parted and this was an opportunity to truly challenge my artistic expression in capturing the essence of so fiery and formidable an English rose. I initially had meant to paint her over the course of a few days, seek out her family, and return her to them with my promise of secrecy in the matter. I even thought of a few candidates in my acquaintance who could have been prevailed upon to marry her should her family require so permanent a solution as that.

I did not anticipate that my Adelaide would so quickly wrap me around her finger. She was guileless in many ways, yet deeply secretive, even haunted. She did not trust me, nor any of my staff, yet put herself into my power knowing she was a lamb that may well be headed to slaughter. As regal as any queen, as bright eyed as a babe. How could a gentleman's daughter, some country nobody, a child, be so haunted, so mysterious and wise? Perhaps, I thought, she truly was ruined…ruined by an authority figure in her life.

Living alone for many years, and suddenly finding myself as something of a parent and companion to a lonely, frightened, tenacious young woman was fascinating for me, and my art flourished with her in the house. I grew increasingly fond of her, to the point of finding myself hiring masters to better educate her, and quite forgetting any plan to return her to the family that she had run away from. I allowed her to believe that I had completely forgotten the name Elizabeth Bennet for many years. I wanted to forget that she was anything other than my own dear child. The rest perhaps you may know from the papers, of the great success of my series, and of the model, Miss Bernard, being launched into society and onto the stage of Covent Garden. She had made a name for herself in her own right, her own money as well, though actress's are paid a pittance.

That is my great sin - out of selfishness, I kept a child from her own family, and her family from any knowledge of her. I looked at her as gift for my own life, without allowing myself to think who may be hurting, wondering whatever became of her…and without helping or aiding her to heal. I was an old man, and a darling girl arrived on my door step at the loneliest stage of my life and made me want to live again. I beg that you would forgive it of me.

What even she is unaware of, is that while I hid any knowledge of the family she left behind from her, I spent a great deal of time, energy, and funds into knowing everything I could about them for own sake. A few pieces of coin pressed in the correct directions yields all sorts of results. At first I thought to find the Uncle she had run from to be the worst sort of scoundrel, so I continued to do business with you to learn what I could personally, as well as investigating you thoroughly…every piece of information I gleaned of you only lead me closer and closer to the revelation that you are a very good sort of man - precisely the trustworthy and steady sort to whom I could leave as trustee to Elizabeth's small fortune should the event of my demise occur before she reached her majority.

My attorney will go over all the details of the trust with you, and the many ways I have endeavored to protect Elizabeth's inheritance from the maddening crowd - but that is not why I write, this letter.

If her uncle in London is a good, respectable, family man, than who was it that our Elizabeth had run from? And why had she run? Why could she not go to that very uncle for protection?
It was very easy to learn of you and your family once the channels of inquiry had been opened. I quickly learned that you originally hailed from Hertfordshire, that your sisters both remained in that area of the country, having married locally. One had become a Bennet. Elizabeth's own family. It was then I learned that both mother and father had died within eighteen months of one another, the mother in childbirth, and the father…most unexpectedly. Perhaps, even, suspiciously.

Where did the Bennet children go after the parents died and the heir took control of Longbourn? Why the eldest married the heir, the next eldest stayed to live with her, and the youngest of them sent away to school.

It became a quick conclusion that Elizabeth must have either run from her estate, and therefore the heir and her sister, or run from school. However the assessments of her tudors told me that while she was certainly bright and curious, she had not received much of a formal education. School seemed unlikely with this knowledge. So with the passage of time, coinage, and many more letters…I began to learn a bit of history of the heir of Longbourn estate.

William Collins is his name, and he would have been close to fifty at the time my charge ran from his guardianship. There are records of him scattered through out the country. His father was an attorney, died when he was a very young boy and left the mother (formerly a Bennet) in some degree of financial distress. He is lost from any records that I could obtain from the age of seven until he is one-and-twenty, and marries a tenant farmer's daughter in _ county. He works as a foreman in a mill, and is reported to generally be the worst sort of boss one can have - a brutal task master that relishes in his role, constantly incapacitated with drink, and something of a harasser of women. The couple remain childless until her death some six years later. He is remarried in the same year, and there are records of the birth of a son some seven months later. Records drop for some years until the son is sent away to Eton, later than usual, and only in attendance due to the father receiving some small inheritance from the death of his maternal grandfather. He continues in the mill until it burns down in _, and then lives a life of squalor, working as a field hand in the summer months and spending much of the winter largely unemployed, but by all accounts, frequently drunk. At some point the wife must have either left him, or died, I can not be certain for there is no record of her death that I have discovered. I pray that when he came into his inheritance his wife was indeed dead, for he certainly felt himself at liberty to marry your niece, miss Jane Bennet, only sixteen years old and reportedly a local beauty.

From all discernible accounts, the marriage was a very rushed, patched up affair while the Bennet girls had only just entered half-mourning. There was some confusion when the banns were read, as it had been widely reported that Miss Jane Bennet had been affianced to William Collins son, William Collins II, who was by this time studying in order to receive his ordination. I am not a fool. I know a fee entail is incredibly difficult and costly to challenge, and reports of man's drunken and licentious behavior can not disinherit him from an estate that lawfully belongs to him. However I can not help but wonder why a man such as yourself, with so many credible character references, would place the daughters of his sister into the power of a man so wholly opposite to himself? Surely you could not have gone through the pains that I have taken to uncover just what sort of person William Collins is and still allowed the marriage to take place in good conscience.

As I have stated previously, I am sure that this letter will give you rather more questions of the past several years than it has answers - and in truth, I have many questions I would yet ask of you, man to man, were it still in my power to do so. Alas, it is not, so I will pass from this world never knowing the full story of why Elizabeth Bennet, my little dove, God's greatest treasure to me, arrived on my door step and named herself Adelaide Bernard.

In the last few weeks, I have managed to finally convince Elizabeth (Lizzy as she prefers her family to call her) to reveal to me her true identity. I claimed to need it for legal purposes, and while true, did not need to press her for it as I have always known her real name. In truth, I was merely pressing her to confide in someone, in anyone who she can love and trust. She carries the burden of what has happened to her every day. She has never told me, or I believe anyone, what occurred to drive her from her home and to fear discovery. When I am gone, the world will only known this remarkable young woman by an invented name and a make believe life. I need to know that there are still some out there that love Elizabeth Bennet, that will comfort and protect Elizabeth Bennet, and not just the glamor of Adelaide Bernard.

So today I write to you, revealing all that I know of the matter, and hoping that I am not greatly mistaken in confiding the story to you. If Elizabeth has any misgivings about the trust, she need only speak to my attorney, who's direction she has, and he will reveal all the protections that have gone into place to make sure that no man may touch it. Elizabeth is a free, independent woman, and I pray will have reached her majority by the time of my leaving this earth so that she is truly released in all ways. She will be beholden to no man in her future.

It is my deepest hope that in reuniting her with her family, she may finally gain peace from the trauma of the past and move toward the future with serenity. I pray that you and your family can give this to her.

Yours in Death -
Benito Forelli

Shaking, Elizabeth laid the letter on the sofa beside her, her eyes staring ahead blankly. Gardiner watched her with caution, afraid to speak first, as if she and the letter would disappear before his very eyes, an elaborate construct of his mind had created from the years of guilt and distress.

"It is very difficult to fathom." She finally whispered, fat tears rolling down porcelain cheeks, "So very difficult to fathom all of this."

"God bless the man!" Gardiner cried, picking up the letter and folding it into the pocket of his waist coat. "He has succeeded where I have so spectacularly failed, and I will thank him for it every day."

Elizabeth could not look at him, and seeing her even more shaken than himself, the middle aged man rose from the sofa and kneeled on the carpet before her, grasping her hands. "Lizzy." He said, his deep voice catching on emotion. "Lizzy, I thought you dead."

She stood sharply, still trembling, and pulled her hands from his as if he had burnt her. "I DID die." She spat with vehemence. "I can never be the girl I was again! I am dead! Dead."

Her uncle remained prostrate before her, ready to supplicant himself on his knees for her forgiveness. "I failed you - each and everyone of you, but I failed you most egregiously of all. I did not stop searching for you for nearly three years, until your sister Mary finally begged me to stop when she stayed with us."

Her feet were suddenly restless, the emotion of the day fueling her. She pulled away and paced, angrily. "No, no, it is not me you failed. Why can you not see that? Not me, but Jane! Jane the dearest, sweetest, girl that ever lived and breathed."

He stood, confused at her notion. "I know that Jane's marriage is not ideal. She is a dear girl and she certainly deserved better for a husband, but we could not have known that at the time. It was a most prudential match."

The pacing continued, increasing in rapidity. She set her powerful eyes toward him with a look that spoke of insurmountable pain and grief. "Tell me, Uncle, are you in the business of human imports as well? You speak the way a slaver might!"

She could not have shocked him anymore if she had slapped him. "I beg your pardon?" He sputtered, red in the face.

"You say you fail me, but at least I have had the chance to make my own way in the world. You read Signore Forelli's letter…how did he put it? That with my inheritance I shall never be beholden to any man? I am free!"

"Free and no longer fit for polite society! You ran away from your home, you a gentle born lady, out on the streets of London for who knows how long, exposed to any kind of manner of people of ill repute. Living with an artist for all your formative years, no companion or marriage to grant you respectability! Making your own way by posing for salacious paintings and selling yourself on a stage! Elizabeth, what life is this!?"

" What other path could I possibly have taken? It is the life I could make for myself! I was just shy of five and ten when I left Longbourn. No education, no money, and a family that thought me and my sisters perfectly provided for by possibly the worst man in the Kingdom. I could have sold my body in other ways and made my money much quicker. You are right. I was exposed to all sorts of people of ill repute when I travelled through London. I was so very blessed that Signore Forelli took me in — and no matter how salacious his art, he never attempted to importune me! He treated me as a daughter. I am free, and Jane, a slave to a man with no soul."

Gardiner stood before her, thoroughly stunned. His hands hung limply by his sides, attempting to reconcile the passionate young woman before him with the impish girl he had despaired of ever seeing again. Elizabeth moved toward the window, heavily dressed in black. She leaned her head against the cool glass, attempting to still the wild beating of her heart.

"Surely you must realize I would have chosen another way if I could have? I did not rejoice in leaving my sisters alone in the power of that monster."

"They are not alone." Gardiner said, his voice softening in the face of her distress, "They have their Aunt and Uncle Phillips in Meryton…they have myself and your Aunt Gardiner in London…most importantly, they have one another. …Lizzy, you are the one who is all alone, and with your loss, it is more true now than ever."

She laughed then, a mocking cackle, coarse and sharp. "Oh I find I can bear the solitude very well. And I will not be alone forever. When I reach my majority, I will petition for the guardianship of my sisters, and an annulment of Jane's marriage, if that is her wish. Which I ardently believe it will be."

Lizzy could see her uncle's slack jawed expression in the glass. She turned toward him, feeling more composed now than she had all day. "I know I am not a very respectable creature, unmarried and earning a living for myself in the public eye. It will be very difficult to win. However, my position in life has had me mingle with a great deal of society…and I will use every single one of my charms to gain the public's sympathy. I suspect that it will be much talked of, and probably closely followed in the papers. If you wish to distance yourself from the Bennet family for your own respectability, I will not be offended."

Now it was her uncle who paced, running his hands through his thinning hair. "You may well be able to gain your sisters to your house hold without the public inquiry. Collins has no love for them, and even less for the strain they place on his pocket book. He would especially be glad to be rid of Mary. He will push her into service if she is not married by her majority, and she seems to have no inclination to seek the married state."

Here Elizabeth laughed once more, with feeling. "How can she when she has had such poor examples? Our parents so wholly unsuited to one another as to make them constantly miserable…and Jane's marriage…if Collins has not changed since I resided with them, then it is very bad indeed. I know of no man worse than Jane's husband, and I have tarried in the sordid streets of our capital."

Gardiner paled. "I know he is an unpleasant, taciturn, miserly sort of man, and certainly far too old to have any real affection for Jane, but surely he can not be quite the villain you describe."

"And when have you ever seen him in an unguarded moment Uncle? I lived with him, and it was only his fear that my devious little tongue would begin to bad mouth him in the village that spared Jane any mercy at all. And very little mercy it was. He is the worst sort of brute imaginable. You are a man in the world, you can not be ignorant to how some men treat their wives. In his eyes, and supported by the law, Jane is his property to do with as he wished. I may have retained my maidenhead, but I lost my innocence the first time I heard Jane's screams."

"Jane was young, a virgin, and he cold and unfeeling. It is a task unpleasant for many young women. In many marriages, it improves with time and patience."

"Marquis de Sade was imprisoned for his proclivities. Because William Collins does not publish his for the world to see, his are dismissed. I tell you, he is the worst sort of husband any woman could have."

Gardiner's feet froze in place. He turned toward her. "I hope you have not read Justine, Elizabeth."

"Not thoroughly, Uncle." She answered. "I am aware of it's contents, and of the realities of what some women must endure in their marriage bed, with no recourse in the court of law."

"I can never forgive myself for what I have done to you all." Gardiner said darkly, slipping back to his seat on the sofa.

Seeing the defeat written across his countenance, Lizzy softened. She approached him, and took the seat next to him with a heavy sigh. "Even if you had the allowance of time to make all the inquiries Forelli has done, you could have never been prepared for just how bad a man my sister's husband is. Forelli could not have known, he only inferred that he must have done something to push me out of my own home…to frighten me so very badly. I do not believe he had a true inkling as to the depth of the depravity of his character."

When he still could not meet her eye, Lizzy slipped her hand into his. Softly she said, "Marrying Jane to that monster was badly done, Uncle, badly done indeed. You should have reviewed the marriage contract more closely before signing her away. You should have broken the engagement with the first Banns and allowed him to sue for a breach of contract. But first and foremost, my Father should have provided for his daughters, so that our situation was not so desperate, our respectability so tenuous. You did the best with what you could in an awful situation, and I have long since forgiven you for it. I am only so discomposed due to the surprise of seeing you here today, after all these years…and on this day, of all days."

"Oh Lizzy." Now Uncle Gardiner choked back a sob. "I truly thought you dead, and I never understood what could have possessed you to go. You who were so insistent to leave my household in order to stay with your married sister, because you missed her so."

"I am alive, Uncle, I am here before you and I promise you that I have been well. Tell me, please, of all the news of my sisters, I beg of you…has Jane had any children?"

"None, they say she is barren. Mary lives with them, and Jane has quite devoted herself to educating and caring for her…and she has gotten past the most trying years and grown into a charming young woman, though she can be more severe than most of her sex. Kitty and Lydia spend all year in school, and it has been to their benefit. It is not a very fine school, but it is a respectable establishment for a gentleman's daughter, and they are learning all the usual accomplishments. Kitty begins to chafe at remaining in the schoolhouse when she is seventeen and could be out in society, and Lydia follows her sister in resentment. Mr. Collins insists that he will only have one Bennet daughter out in society at a time however. We will have them with us over the winter holiday, here in London, and Mrs. Gardiner plans to give them a few social outings to stem the tide of malice."

With the last piece of information, Elizabeth's eyes sparkled. "My sisters will be in London for Christmas?" She asked eagerly.

"Indeed they will be," came Gardiner's cautious reply. "We have hosted them every year since you went away."

Elizabeth sank into the cushions of the sofa. "How strange to think they have been so close to me, and both of us unknown to one another. I long to see them. I should hardly recognize Kitty or Lydia. They were little girls when I left Longbourn, and now young women!"

"We can not call on you here, Elizabeth." Came her uncle's stern reply. "This is the home of an actress. They are gentlemen's daughters. It is not a respectable establishment to take young girls."

"Yes, I know." She answered tersely. "I would not presume to bring them here yet, in any case. I am in mourning for my dear Padre. I will still be in full-mourning during the Christmas holiday. I will enter half-mourning with the new year in order to put on a limited production of Romeo and Juliet during the month of January, and then I will stay in the country side until the full year is up. However, with May comes my majority, and I will file my petition. Perhaps next Christmas, all the Bennet sisters will be together once again."

"You will need to hire a companion, and to establish that you have an income which can support three dependents. You will need a litany of character references from very well connected people."

"Four dependents, Uncle. Jane will remove from Longbourn with us, I am sure."

"You have no legal recourse to separate Jane from her husband, and I am sure that her husband will not allow it. You must give up this impossible dream and think logically if you are to take this step, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth squeezed her Uncle's hands with warmth. "I may not be able to seek legal readdress, but I will see her out of that house Uncle. What I can not do within the law, I mean to do outside of it. Leaving Jane behind again is not an option."

He looked her over with that same expression of defeat. "I fear what you will be willing to do, Elizabeth. But I will not stand in your way. I will support you where I can. I owe that to you, to all of you girls."

"Uncle," she said gently, meeting his gaze. "I made a promise the day I escaped Longbourn that I would rescue all my sisters, and place them into my protection. There is nothing that I would not do to see that promise through. Absolutely nothing."

"I believe you, Elizabeth." He replied, "And that is what frightens me."

Lizzy stood with a small smile, and pulled the bell, requesting tea service for herself and her guest. The pair filled the air with busy nothings, discussing so much of what had happened in the past six years outside of their own familial troubles. After the better part of the afternoon had slipped away, Gardiner finally decided it was time to return to his home. There was just one thing left to ask.

"Elizabeth," he said quietly, hat in his hand, "Will you tell me what happened that day? Why you could not seek out your family if Longbourn had become so unbearable to you?"

Lizzy kissed his cheek with warm affection. "I promise you, I will tell you the whole unfettered story. I just can not bring myself to speak of it as easily as you desire…I have never spoken it aloud before. Please, give me some time. I will send you my card when I am ready to reveal all. And before then…Uncle remember, you can not tell anyone of the events of this day. Lizzy Bennet must stay in the shadows for just a bit longer."

"I swear, I will speak to no one of this." He replied gravely.

"Not even my Aunt?" She prodded, as his carriage arrived on the drive.

"Not even your Aunt." He answered solemnly.

As the carriage pulled away, Elizabeth felt a sense of peace and fulfillment that she could not recall having ever before experienced. The late afternoon sat high in the sky, and soon would begin to drift into November twilight. This time next year she would be preparing her house to receive all her sisters in London for the winter holiday.

It had been a trying thing, to bury the man who had cared for her, nurtured her, given her a chance when she lost in the world…rescued her from the streets of London…but in burying him, Elizabeth Bennet knew that she had begun to truly become free. She was beholden to no man. Soon, her sisters would have that same liberation.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

1.) Catholic Funerals. Based on some research, I've seen the catholic services were allowed to be practiced again in Regency England. Being Italian, it would be most natural for Forelli to be a Catholic. Marriages had to first have an Angelican service to legitimize them legally in the country, but Catholic couples could then have a full mass and service following their legal marriage. I could not find anything about Catholic funerals specifically but imagined it would most likely be a similar set up.

There is heated debate about whether women were "allowed" at funerals in this era. It certainly wasn't illegal, however it was likely the men in your life may forbid it, or that you would presume yourself too delicate to attend one as a woman. Lady Matlock attends to support Adelaide, who has no man to stop her. Lady Matlock is high enough in society that she doesn't really care what more conservative people think of her choice. She is also a patron of the arts in my story, so more socially liberal than usual.

2.)Marquis de Sade was a real person, and a quick wikipedia read will explain why Gardiner was not thrilled to hear his gently born (though decidedly fallen) niece reference him. He was in prison several times. The term sadism comes from him.

3.) Petition for Guardianship - the idea of single woman receiving custody of family members in this era is fairly laughable. Elizabeth is counting on her friends, reputation, and using the court of public opinion in the newspaper stories to sway readers to her side so that Collins will give the Bennet girls up to her to avoid further public humiliation.

Several nuggets of important information for resolving this story and the mystery of Mr. Collins and Elizabeth were dropped in this chapter. Let me know if you think you found them.:)

Once again, thanks so much for reading. I am eager for your feedback!