Dancing On Hedgerows

by mrnon

Regency AU. When Mr. Bingley leases Netherfield Hall, he and his friend Darcy are embroiled in a mystery involving a beautiful married woman, a beguiling actress, a timid reverend, a bluestocking, a blackhearted landowner, and a neighboring estate entailed away from the female line. HEA, but a suspenseful journey. Rated T for allusions to domestic violence & adult relations.

25. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

I know many people can be sensitive about the way this holiday centers around the love between couples. I personally think that the way America commercializes holidays makes them all a bit corny, but I think it's great to celebrate love! After all, the ability to love is possibly man kind's best attributes.

This chapter has plenty of love in it, in a variety of forms and examples. It was also a labor of love - the longest continuous chapter I've ever written, of anything, period, and all one continuous scene with changing POVs.

As much love as there is in this chapter, it is also dark. Elizabeth has to tell her whole story, and it is a story surrounding domestic abuse. I will never write out a graphic scene of violence against women, but my characters will certainly allude to violent incidents that occurred in their past. From the start, I have promised my characters a HEA, and I do promise I will deliver that.

Thank you guys for the wonderful feedback and sense of community you have created in me. This scene is a big one...one of the pivotal moments that I imagined when I fist conceptualized this idea for a novel. It was so rewarding to finally write it out, and I hope you enjoy Part II of Elizabeth's story. Your encouragement has been the push I needed to see this story through to this moment.

BTW: The readers who mentioned rat squeals of excitement had me cracking up.

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Constable Gantry's eye were bright as he looked over the assembled party. The guest suite was a touch small to host a party of their number, but the intimacy of the space was certainly conducive to the sharing of secrets – no one need raise their voice to be heard. The gentlemen, serving as little more than witnesses this evening, kept to the periphery of the room. In a pair of wingback chairs sat Colonel Fitzwilliam and their host, Mr. Bingley. The Colonel leaned back in his chair, his gaze cool and assessing. The younger of the pair shifted in his seat, his bright blue eyes drifting to various persons about the room, lingering on some more than others. Darcy stood behind them, arms stiffly by his sides, and would have been imposing had he not been looking at Miss Elizabeth with such warmth in his gaze.

Across from the gentleman was a small settee, where some of the loveliest women in the countryside sat clustered together. Mrs. Collins and Mary were pressed together, their gloved hands clutching one another desperately in their laps. Miss Elizabeth knelt before them, grabbing onto her sisters' hands with own and was speaking aloud, her voice full of quiet determination, "Very, well. I suppose I ought to start at the beginning."

Shaken from his musings of their party by her words, Gantry stepped forward, offering her a deep bow. "Miss Bernard, I thank you for attending us here this evening. We are all quite interested in hearing what you have to say, but as the gentleman can only remain with us so long without offending our hostess, I must beg your indulgence and ask you to allow me to lead the dialogue this evening. If you would oblige me in answering some of my questions, I would be greatly in your debt."

Lizzy turned to the speaker, rising as he spoke. A look close to relief passed her countenance. "I am agreeable to such a plan, sir. I rarely am at a loss for words, but now that I am here, I find I hardly know where to begin. You must be Mr. Gantry, the Bow Street Runner Mr. Darcy hired on my cousin's behalf." She dipped in a small curtesy, sending a slightly amused glance toward the gentlemen who had neglected to introduce her to her inquisitor.

"Indeed, you are correct Madam." Gantry replied, bowing low and taking energetic steps toward her, "And I am quite at your service."

Elizabeth smiled with a hint of her typical playfulness. "It rather seems to me that you are at Mr. Darcy's service, being in his employ…" Her fine eyes caught Darcy's from across the room, and the depth of feeling he projected toward her when their eyes met softened her. She looked toward Gantry again, "but as I know he is a most honorable gentleman with uncommon good sense, and I trust I am in excellent hands."

Gantry gestured toward the last unoccupied seat, centerstage in the tableau the sisters presented. "Will you not sit, madam?"

"You are very kind," Elizabeth responded politely, "but I have spent many hours of this day in repose, and I find in this moment that my nerves will not allow me to sit still."

The wiry Londoner smiled charmingly at her. "Then allow me to offer you my arm, and we shall take a turn about the room together. I am sure you have much you wish to say to both your sisters, as well as your friends, but right now you need only worry about speaking to me." Glancing toward the others assembled about them, Gantry added, "Our audience shall only speak when they are given express permission, am I understood?" Seeing their nods of acquiescence, (though some were given reluctantly), Gantry turned back to the actress. "Shall we, Miss Bernard? I assure you; it is quite refreshing."

Elizabeth was uncertain, but the Bow Street Runner was looking at her with kind, reassuring eyes. It was much more comfortable in that moment to meet the sympathetic gaze of a stranger than the anger of her sister of the warmth of Darcy's regard, and Elizabeth took his arm, allowing him to lead her in a circle around the crowded room.

When Gantry had interviewed Collins Sr, he had delivered his interrogation with speed and deadly precision. With Elizabeth, he took a rather different approach. He started simply, in a calm, even voice, asking, "May I enquire as to where you have been making your home, the circumstances of your living conditions, and how long you have resided at your present address?"

Lizzy frowned slightly, surprised how the Constable's questions had begun, but she answered him easily enough. "I have been residing on _ St, in London, and have made my home at that address for six, quite nearly seven, years. The home is a rented townhouse that was leased to Signore Benito Forelli and has been transferred to me as his heir. I intend to quit the residence at the end of the lease."

"Did you reside at any other address between quitting Longbourn and joining the Forelli household?"

The actress could not repress the wry twist of her lips. "I can no longer recall the addresses of the residences where I stayed before reaching Signore's home, but I did not reside in any of them. I merely slept in several stables in the city as I made my way to Signore's address."

"Would I be correct in assuming that when you left Longborn, you were planning to travel to Mr. Forelli's residence? That you were following a premediated plan?"

Lizzy sighed slightly, happy that her back was currently turned to her sisters. "Yes, you are correct."

Gantry nodded encouragingly, "You had a prior acquaintance with the gentleman?"

"A very trifling one. Signore Forelli was a customer of my Uncle Gardiner, a tradesman and importer who specializes in fabric. After the death of my father, I lived in the care of my Aunt and Uncle for a short while. I was at my Uncle's warehouse in the company of my Aunt while Signore was selecting wares. He said I had fine eyes and wished to do a study of them. After much conversation, my Aunt consented to the scheme. He sketched me for an afternoon, and we had some conversation. He was very frustrated and felt that he could not do my expression justice. He left unsatisfied."

"And did you keep up an acquaintance with the gentleman?"

"Of course not!" Lizzy replied with surprised, turning her head to look at the Runner in astonishment, "I was little more than a child. Once I had regaled my friends with the story of the silly old Italian, I hardly thought of him again. It took me several days from when I determined that I must leave Longborn to arrive at the scheme."

"What was it that made you think traveling by yourself to London and calling on a man you did not know would be a sensible decision when running away from home?"

She paused, and then said thickly, "Why…I believe it was what I felt was my total lack of alternatives."

Out of the corner of his eye, Gantry looked toward the audience, trying to gauge their reactions, especially those of Elizabeth's sisters. If his gaze lingered too long on the younger of the pair, it was only because she was typically too stoic to read…or so the constable told himself. "A lack of alternatives?" He asked gently, "Was your London family not an option for you?"

"No." came the firm reply. "My only motive in leaving Longborn was removing myself from the power of my guardian for the protection of myself and my sisters, and at the time I believed that the Gardiners would be swayed by Mr. Collins and return me to Hertfordshire."

Their steps were leading them back toward the group. Gantry did his best to keep Elizabeth's eyes on his own, but the pull of Darcy's gaze could not be ignored. He was soft and sad and impossibly handsome. She could hardly bare his pity yet found comfort in it all the same. She had always despised being an object of pity, but Darcy had known his own suffering.

"When I determined I had no choice but to leave Longborn, I realized swiftly that my journey to London would be the easiest part of my new life. Since I could not rely on my Aunt and Uncle, I would have to support myself. Yet, what did I know of supporting myself? What could I possibly do for work when I reached Town? I had spent most of my childhood being told I was remarkably clever, but I knew almost nothing that would be of any use to me when seeking employment. I knew it would dangerous, as well and that I was most likely ill prepared for the realities of navigating the streets of town, as well. Earning a living and finding safe lodging were my paramount concerns. Since Signore Forelli had been so interested in sketching me, and dissatisfied with the results of that first session, I thought to offer myself as a model in the hopes I could earn some extra coin until I found more sustainable employment. I brought some funds with me to Town, but I knew I would have to quickly supplement what little money I had if I didn't want to starve."

"So, you made your way to the Forelli residence, presented yourself as a model, Forelli accepted you, and soon enough you were living at the residence."

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, her tone become infused with familial warmth. "Dear Forelli. I think at first, he indulged my demands to work for him because my tenacity amused him, but he very soon realized I had nowhere safe to go and pitied me. He was already an old man then, with no family of his own, and was very good to me. I did not dare give him my Christian name in case my family was searching for me, and so Elizabeth Bennet became Adelaide Bernard. If not for Mr. Darcy visiting this neighborhood and recognizing my likeness to the Bennet family, I might have remained her still."

"Yes, every account I have of Mr. Forelli is that he was a very good man. I believe all assembled persons know enough of Adelaide Bernard's rise to fame that we need not recount how you spent the following years, as our time together is limited."

"Very well," Elizabeth replied gently, the warmth dropping. "What would you ask of me next?"

"Pardon me," came the gravelly voice of the Colonel, "May I ask for a point of clarification before we continue?"

Gantry's steps faltered in their promenade. He and the fair lady had reached the point of passing the seats where their host, Mr. Bingley, sat with Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of the actress's most generous patrons, and Gantry's social superior. He bristled to be interrupted but knew he ought to allow the Colonel his say. He had asked politely, when in truth, he could have decided to take over as the leader of the investigation and Gantry would have been obligated to step down. Miss Bernard was not the only one living by the generosity of the Matlock family. The Fitzwilliam's contributed generously to Bow Street, which was ever in need of funds.

However, he could still curse the man in his mind. Miss Bernard was beginning to become comfortable in her recitation of her story, answering Gantry's questions with a frank, open manner he had not anticipated. Despite the many good accounts, he had of Miss Adelaide Bernard from people of varying social classes, Gantry had been fully prepared to meet with a practiced deceiver. After all, here was a woman who had changed her identity and created a whole new life for herself, and then made her living playing at even more roles. Gantry was strong study and found himself catching the lies of others quite quickly, but he had never questioned a professional before. However, Miss Bernard …. or would she prefer Bennet? …spoke as if she was relieved to be able to tell her story, like she was unburdening herself of a weight that was truly impossible to carry alone. She wanted to talk. He had not expected that.

Truthfully, he was thankful that Miss Bennet seemed to possess an energetic nature somewhat like his own. He was glad to be able to offer her his arm, for there was no fathomable way he could have brought himself to be still in such a moment. Every instinct was speaking to him clearly, and with conviction. There was no doubt in his mind that this was it. Elizabeth Bennet's testimony would be the missing link that would explain to the Constable why a father would want to see his only heir dead. While he had finally pieced together who had assaulted Reverend Collins, he still did not understand why, and Gantry needed desperately to understand. While he understood how Elizabeth Bennet had runaway and then how she had managed to live in London, more than anything he needed to know why she had chosen to leave. Somehow, he knew it was all connected…and that it would lead to something…more.

She had been speaking so naturally, and then the Colonel, all military bluntness, had decided to interject.

The constable dipped his head toward Colonel Fitzwilliam. "You may, sir."

The Colonel turned his direction toward the actress. While he did not look at her unkindly, he did not meet her gaze with any particular warmth. They had been friends once, and he had thought well of her for many years, but he could not like the sway she still held over his besotted cousin. She had rejected the head of the Darcy family, not once, but now twice! Yet still, Fitzwilliam chased her! Similarly, his own mother doted on her, far more than he could recall her doing with the other artists or causes she favors. The fact that she had required he escort his cousin and Miss Bernard to Hertfordshire was a remarkable sign of her favor all on its own. He could not help his skepticism.

"I wonder, madam," he questioned, his tone firm, "how you came to acquire Signore Forelli's address if you had only met the gentleman on one occasion and in the company of chaperones?"

While she could not help some sadness of the manner in which her former friend addressed her, Elizabeth was not concerned with the Colonel's question. If they were truly in search of the truth, they should question her. There was so much to the story they simply did not know. "Oh that!" She laughed lightly, courage rising at his attempt to intimidate her. "It was such a singular afternoon that my Uncle Gardiner allowed me to keep Signore Forelli's card as a keepsake. He had given it to my Uncle, of course. My day of modeling to an eccentric Italian was a very amusing tale to tell my friends in Hertfordshire at the time. Having his card gave me proof when I told my stories to my friends…I am sure that Charlotte Lucas…" she suddenly paused, her eyes swiveling to her sisters, "dear me! Is Charlotte – is she still in the neighborhood?"

"Yes," Mary replied rapidly, immediately sensing Elizabeth's distress, "Miss Lucas is still at home with her family."

"Dear Charlotte," Elizabeth said, relief washing across her countenance. "I am pleased to hear that she is well."

Gantry felt his ire build. He needed to hear Elizabeth's entire confession. She would have hours with her sisters to catch up on all the births, deaths, and marriages of the neighborhood. His lips parted, an interjection on his tongue, but Mrs. Collins' was quicker.

Seven years of separation was no trifling matter. Elizabeth had run away from Longborn in the earliest days of her burgeoning womanhood and had returned to Hertfordshire a seasoned lady of Town. But Jane had been young as well, and her journey from child to adult had been both harsh and abrupt; the gentle days of her girlhood ending in tragedy. In essentials, she would always be gentle Jane Bennet, with a kind word of encouragement for anyone she met – her capacity for love was inherent in her nature, it simply could not be helped. However, such a loving heart coming to age in such a cold reality; Mrs. Jane Collins had grown into a sharp observer and a fierce protector. She had lived an existence of constant vigilance, placating the moods of a tyrant to keep those under her protection in a safe and peaceful home. That love…that fierce, primal love, still extended to Elizabeth, perhaps even more powerfully because of the great pain of having lost her once. Yet love was not enough to dismiss the hurt of abandonment and the many hours spent tormented in the agony of not knowing what had happened to her, grief filled days that no tears could satisfy, her sister's fate unknown.

Jane was angry, and the anger washed over in powerful waves, her shoulders shaking with the force of it. Her voice, thankfully, remained steady, devoid of bitterness, but forceful enough to draw the attention of the entire room. Her cornflower eyes shined in the candlelight, but for all their unshed tears they held a steely resolve. "What I want to know, Mr. Gantry, is why my sister left Longborn, and I should like to hear an answer, directly."

Elizabeth's speaking eyes, the eyes that had made her muse to an artist, the eyes that spellbound audiences, the eyes that had seared the soul of Fitzwilliam Darcy, locked on the bright resolute gaze of her elder sisters'…of Jane's…Jane who Elizabeth had thought of every day, Jane for who Elizabeth had made her life's vow to rescue, Jane for whom she had left her life behind to protect, little more than a child. Could she say all that there was to say of the purest love that had motivated her and the difficult sacrifices she had made…did her stormy hazel orbs, speak of all her regret at having left, even knowing she had no other choice, did they tell her of her need for Jane's forgiveness, did they show Jane her own pride at having come this far on her own?

Whatever those eyes spoke, their message was for Jane alone. Cornflower pools welled with hot tears that slid down Jane's porcelain cheeks in thick streaks. Absentmindedly her hand rose, gently patting at her face with Mr. Bingley's handkerchief. Though she had addressed Mr. Gantry, as he had requested, she looked nowhere but at Elizabeth.

On his arm, Elizabeth trembled violently. He swallowed, combating his need to comfort a distressed young woman with the necessity of remaining the consummate professional investigator, cold and impartial. The small Londoner sought Mr. Darcy's eye, but his gaze was as fixed on Elizabeth as her elder sister's was.

"Miss Bernard," he murmured gently, modulating his volume to be for her benefit alone, "You have told us that your choice to travel to London was premediated, and you have stated that you left Longborn to protect yourself and your sisters. You have claimed you had no alternative but to make your way independently, because you could not allow yourself to be returned to the care of your guardian, Mr. Collins. Can you please explain what lead you to these decisions?"

He spoke quietly and calmly, but her trembling only grew with each word, until she was swaying lightly. Gantry only realized the actress was about to swoon when Mr. Darcy, who had not taken his eyes off Elizabeth's face for a moment, made a dramatic lunge toward them, barking the Constable's name.

It was only instinct which allowed him to brace for Elizabeth's weight collapsing into his wiry frame. He was able to respond admirably, reflexively releasing her arm to catch her at the waist before she slumped, but Darcy was faster. One arm caught Elizabeth's back across the shoulders and the other tucked under her knees, lifting her to be fully ensconced in his arms, before gently depositing her in the settee vacated by her sisters. Jane had already rushed into the adjoining room where Reverend Collins slept, returning with smelling salts and a cool damp cloth. She immediately knelt next to her estranged sister, pressing the cloth against Elizabeth's brow.

Darcy turned toward the others, who had all stood, wearing varied expressions of worry and concern on the faces. "For as long as I have known her, Miss Elizabeth has been an intensely private person. Whatever her story she has to tell us, it is clearly one which must be traumatic for her, to be so overcome. Her discovery as Elizabeth Bennet and reunion with her sisters has happened at an incredibly rapid pace as well, she must be incredibly overwhelmed. Who would not be?"

Gantry's eyes drifted toward the clock. "You are correct of course, Darcy. The troubles of Longborn clearly have a long and dark history. We must allow Miss Bernard some time to recover before we can continue our inquiry. However, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst will be quite put out if we all are to remain above stairs the remainder of the evening."

Mr. Bingley, who had been ringing his hands in worry, looked to the clock as well. "You are quite correct, we can not afford to be rude to my sister, poor Caroline has had the limits of her hospitality stretched, and I should show my appreciation for her forbearance. Perhaps Mrs. Collins and Miss Bennet can remain with Miss Bernard while she recuperates, and our party can return downstairs before retiring early for the evening and reconvening here?"

The constable stole a look at his employer, who wore a deep expression of concern. "Mr. Darcy ought to stay upstairs as well. I do not think he would be able to sufficiently mask his distraction from Miss Bingley's notice. You rather look like you have a headache, sir."

The Derbyshire man's lips were pressed into a thin line. "I confess, I do not feel equal to the evening's entertainments at present, please make my apologies to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst."

Mary, who stood behind the settee where Elizabeth stirred lightly, interjected the men's conversation to say, "With Mrs. Collins present, there can be nothing improper in Mr. Darcy and Miss Bernard joining us in sitting vigil for my cousin." Her intelligent, icy gaze assessed the gentlemen in attendance. "Mr. Gantry, perhaps you ought to mingle below stairs for the course of an hour, and then wait upon us here. I believe Mr. Darcy is right…it must be incredibly difficult for Miss Bernard, who has been hiding her identity for so long, to reveal her deepest secrets to a room of strangers. I think in the interest of this first recitation of her story, perhaps we could be better served by asking Miss Bernard to perform to a more intimate audience."

Darcy was looking toward the enigmatic Miss Bennet with a frank appreciation. She had shown herself to be a clever young woman several times, but she was also a kind and considerate one. He nodded in approval saying, "In the interest of serving the law, it is absolutely necessary that Constable Gantry be present for Miss Elizabeth's first account of her story, and subsequent retellings. However, my presence is entirely superfluous, as is the audience of the Colonel and Mr. Bingley. The only ones who are owed Miss Elizabeth's story is her family, and the law. When Gantry returns for his interview, I shall quit the room, unless Elizabeth requests my presence."

"And when you are finished for the evening, whatever time that should be, you will meet me in the Billiard Room, where I will be waiting for a full accounting of all you have learned this night." The Colonel said gruffly, clicking his heels together and dropping into a bow. "Good Evening."

While the Colonel was agitated by his dismissal, their host was more generous. He felt for Miss Bernard, and understood the need for some family privacy, but he was loath to leave his Jane alone in her feelings. She had claimed Elizabeth left her – abandoned her, and Bingley did not want to be the sort of man who would walk away from Jane when she needed him most. He would never abandon her. He would remain a fixture to rely on. She was a pillar of strength, yet as delicate as any flower. He looked at her with anxiety, unsure of what she would wish of him, how best he could serve her in such a moment, but she did not look up from Elizabeth's wan expression. Left with no direction, he fell back on his good breeding, bowing to those who would remain. "If I can be of assistance in any way, please, ring for me." He said with heart, his eyes locked on Jane's dipped head.

Gantry bowed as well, and his eager eyes burned brightly. "I will only stay as long as is necessary for politeness sake. I would prefer to above stairs again as soon as Miss Elizabeth awakens, it would not serve us well if it is believed you had an opportunity to conspire before together before my interview with the good lady. Please do not allow Miss Bernard to speak on this topic until I have returned." He directed this message to the group at large, but the half-twisted smile on his lips was Mary's alone. "Until then." He added, bowing to the group.

Wasting no time after the other gentleman had quit the room, Mary turned toward the Master of Pemberley, and gestured toward one of the vacated wingbacks. "Will you not, sit, Mr. Darcy?" She asked, her tone touched with a vague amusement, recalling the first conversation she had ever shared with the Derbyshire gentleman, at the Meryton assembly, in what felt like months, but was merely a few weeks, past.

On this occasion, he did not attempt to dismiss her invitation. He sat but looked toward Elizabeth and Jane with a deep longing plain in his eyes. Mary took the chair the Colonel had recently occupied, and spoke in her usual dry fashion, saying, "I do not care to be idle, but there is no sense in crowding a woman who has just fainted. She will recover much more easily with a little space and Jane's ministrations."

"You are correct of course." Darcy replied blandly, watching the pair of sisters uneasily. Elizabeth had looked toward Jane with such an unfathomable pain in her eyes before she had fainted…he shuddered, his mind racing with possibilities of the horrors that could have befallen her at the hands of her guardian.

Mrs. Collins looked up then, the shock of Elizabeth's collapse having dried her tears, though her eyes remained red-rimmed. She was looking at Darcy with an inscrutable expression, clearly assessing him in a way she had not bothered to do before this moment but revealing nothing of what she found in him. "Perhaps, while Elizabeth is indisposed, you might care to explain to me the nature of your relationship with my sister." She said, her tone polite but belying a certain firmness which clearly would brook no opposition.

Darcy merely smiled in response to her unstated challenge. Before he had met Adelaide Bernard, and been properly humbled by her, he might have taken offense to a country wife of little standing addressing him in such a fashion and making demands of him, but instead he only saw a sister's protective nature. He admired the way she guarded those she loved…in fact, it was a quality he thought that they shared. He could only hope to convince her of it.

"I love her." He said simply, his whole face softening with his words. He could not find a reason to dissemble, surely Elizabeth's sisters would learn the truth soon enough. He felt his feelings must be obvious to anyone with two eyes – he had allowed himself to succumb to the thrall of being in love with her rather than stupidly fighting against his feelings. They could both see his attachment to Elizabeth, but he would have to assure them of his honor. If he realized if he truly wished to make these women his family, it was best to begin with complete honesty. He continued. "I would have married her already if she would have me, but she believes that the disparity of our stations is too wide to create a successful union. More importantly, she has priorities outside of marriage that are much more important to her. She will tell you of them herself shortly."

Jane blinked at him owlishly, her jaw slackening slightly in surprise. Beside him, Mary smiled slyly. "You have made Elizabeth an offer of marriage?" Mrs. Collins asked, incredulous.

"This is a dreadful beginning." Darcy stated, huffing slightly to himself. "I had believed that if anyone could understand my loving Elizabeth, it would surely be her sisters."

"We certainly understand loving her, Mr. Darcy." Came the cool voice of the younger sister, "I have suspected as much since you told Mr. Bingley that you were writing Miss Bernard a letter of condolence. What is surprising is a man of your position seeking out Elizabeth as wife, rather than a mistress. Whatever or whomever else she may be, she is an actress Mr. Darcy."

He could only laugh, knowing the futility of arguing the point, having done it so frequently over the course of the last several days. "Whatever or whomever she may have been, she is a woman, Miss Bennet, and I am a man. The bonds of love will not be dictated by the boundaries man has created between the classes. And I would no sooner dishonor the woman that I love than I would cut off my own hand. Yes, I have made your sister an offer of marriage, madam. In fact, I have made her more than one."

Jane was fully gaping at him now. She had thought many things about Mr. Darcy over their brief acquaintance, at times he had been aloof and superior, and at other times, considerate and generous far beyond the usual fashion. What she had not imagined was the beneath the serious mien he presented to the world, beat the heart of a true romantic. Elizabeth had captured the heart of a man who loved her just as she was – despite the enormous gulf which existed between his world and the one she had made her home in, a truly honorable man who made her an honest offer…and her sister had spurned such a match? Her sister had priorities more important to her than the security that marriage to a man of Darcy's vast wealth and considerable character could bring?

On the settee Elizabeth stirred beneath her Jane's hands, beginning to regain wakefulness. Jane looked down at the sister she had believed lost to her forever, her heart welling with all the love she had been locking away for seven long years. Unconscious, the time slipped away from Elizabeth's face. She looked young and pale, hardly a haughty actress of London any longer. Jane could begin to see traces of the girl who had left…her long thin nose, upturned slightly on the end, was the same, and her lips, wide and plump, split into the same mischievous smile that had been burned in Jane's memory.

One slender hand rest against Elizabeth's wild chestnut curls, petting them softly. "Tell me, Mr. Darcy…" she asked softly, her voice cracking slightly, "what is she like? What sort of young woman did my sister become without us?"

Darcy leaned forward in his seat, locking eyes with the eldest Bennet orphan. His expression was full of warmth and tender affection, and when he spoke, his deep voice was rich with feeling. "Warm." He answered. "Until I met Elizabeth, I had never known a woman could be so warm – she was always kind and welcoming, but not in the common way young ladies present themselves. There is nothing artificial in her air, she shows a genuine interest in anyone who has the benefit of her conversation, and converses easily with anyone from any class. Her wit is quick, quicker than most, and can certainly be sharp…but she is never intentionally cruel or capricious. Rather, it is more that she is always ready to laugh and prefers laughing at herself best of all."

He paused thoughtfully, both sisters listening to him in rapt fascination. "Yet for all her humor and her playful manners, there has always been an aura of sadness that seemed to follow in her wake. She always deflected questions about herself and her past with ease, but her eyes would give away that such questions pained her…creating a sense of mystery around her that drew admirers to her like a moth to a flame…As warm as she was, she was equally guarded. All of London knew her, but her heart was known to no one."

Mary nodded. "The papers have written of her with increasing frequency these past two years, and certainly made her sound mysterious. I have seen her described as enigmatic, coy, teasing…evening haunting."

"Haunting." Repeated Darcy, turning the word over on his tongue thoughtfully. "A fitting descriptor. She has haunted my mind and my heart since the first day I deigned to take true notice of her, and what a fool I was to have taken so long to do so!"

"True notice?" Mary asked, curiosity rising, "Tell us, how did you come to be acquainted with our sister?"

A self-mocking smile danced across Darcy's lips. "We met Adelaide Bernard the same way, Miss Bennet." He answered her, "Before I knew her, I met her as Venus. The Colonel, being my elder, and far more social than I, had a knack for convincing me to attend events I had no interest in. I had been henpecked into accompanying him to the opening of 'The Many Moods of Venus', at the Duke _ townhome. I was in a quite a sour mood, though I hardly remember why. I was made even more unhappy when upon my arrival, I learned there would be dancing. The Colonel abandoned me quickly to pay court to the young ladies, and when an acquaintance who I did not particularly care for, saw me standing about unaccompanied and without purpose, he attempted to introduce me to Miss Bernard. I declined, not wishing to make the acquaintance an actress that I was sure was in attendance to hunt for a protector. In doing so, I…insulted her person, not realizing that she was close enough to hear me plainly."

A stunned silence followed his confession, causing Darcy to flush in embarrassment. He began to speak again, to explain to the sisters he had long since realized what an untrue, as well as a cruel and ungentlemanly thing that was to say when suddenly he realized…the Bennet sisters were not silent any longer, they were laughing. In fact, they were laughing at him. The giggle bubbled up between the women, one's amusement feeding off the other until their mirth boiled over into full blown laughter, from deep in the gut.

It was this merriment which pulled the stirring Elizabeth into true wakefulness. Her hazel eyes opened to the sight of Jane's pretty face looming above hers, her pink lips broken into a wide smile. She pushed herself up on her elbows, feeling groggy and weak, the laughter dying on their lips with her movements.

Jane was instantly beside her, helping Elizabeth into a sitting position. Lizzy blinked, looking around the room with some small confusion. Jane passed a cup of tea into her hands, crooning at her sister to take a sip, then another.

"Where did the others go?" She asked, teacup at her lips.

"They are attending Miss Bingley and will not rejoin us again this evening. When you are sufficiently recovered, it is important that you continue your interview with Constable Gantry – but you need not speak with him in front of a crowd. He will return shortly, and if you are ready, we will continue your interview this evening. Miss Bennet thought you might be more comfortable in confiding in us in more intimate and familiar numbers."

Elizabeth let out a small sigh with Darcy's words. "I confess…I am relieved. I do not normally suffer from stage fright, but I was finding it difficult to find my words with so many eyes upon my person."

As if summoned by Darcy's words, an energetic knock was heard on the door. The Constable opened the door without waiting for a response, crossing the threshold and shutting it firmly behind him. He crossed the length of the room, not hesitating in his step when he offered the assembled group his bow.

"Ah, Miss Bernard – I am glad to see you are up and there is some color returning to your cheeks. I must apologize that I did not notice your distress sooner. Do you feel well enough to continue this interview, madam?"

Elizabeth smiled wanly. "Yes, I wish to continue…though I do believe I will remain seated for this portion of our conversation."

Darcy, who had risen with Gantry's entrance, lowered himself into a bow. "I shall leave you now." Having spoken so openly of his own heart, he could hardly stop himself from reaching for Elizabeth's hand, to kiss it. However, before he could bring her small palm to his lips, he felt her fingers grasp his in a delicate, yet desperate grip.

"Will you not stay?" Elizabeth asked softly, looking up at him from her seat on settee through dark glistening lashes.

Darcy's dark eyes bore into hers, his hand returning the hold she had on his. "If you wish me to stay Elizabeth, I shall not be moved from your side."

Not releasing her hold on him, she took in a deep, shuddering breath. "You love me." She said, ignoring her sisters' scandalized expressions for speaking so plainly, "You have told me that you want me as your wife – and perhaps you were ready to face the scandal of marrying Adelaide Bernard, but you must also be ready to face the scandal of marrying Elizabeth Bennet, which could be far, far, worse. I love you – I have loved you so long now that I hardly know when it began. And my feelings…they have threatened my resolve against your offer many times. But I could never forgive myself if I selfishly took your name without you knowing the full truth of what you have married into. I owe you the whole unvarnished truth as much as I owe it to my sisters."

Darcy raised the hand he held to his lips, placing a reverent kiss upon it. He returned to his seat in the chairs facing the small sofa, saying, "I will hear you if this is your wish, but I do not believe anything you reveal to me will change the wishes of my heart. I only love you more deeply now, for finding the courage to share your story with us."

Mary rose from her seat beside Darcy, crossed the space to take the seat to Elizabeth's right, and grasped the hand Darcy had only just released. Jane settled herself to Elizabeth's left, repeating the younger Bennet's actions. Ensconced safely between her sisters, with Darcy holding her eyes on his, she knew that is she could not speak her story then and there, she would never be able to say it loud. And so, with one last deep breath, she began.

"Before I fainted, my sister Jane asked to know what had prompted me to decide to run away from Longborn." She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, finding her resolve. "The real trouble began in September '04. Jane will attest that I was often at odds with my guardian. There was a mutual dislike between us almost from the start." She stole a glance at Jane, but her head was turned toward the wallpaper to her left, though the tilt of her head indicated she was listening to Elizabeth intently. "I hope I will not offend my sister when I say that I found her husband to be petty and vindicative, a small-minded bully of a man. I used what little influence I had within Meryton to temper his cruel nature. He knew his rights," she spat the word out bitterly, "as Jane's husband, but he was keen enough to realize if there were rumors in Meryton that he exercised his rights on sweet Jane Bennet excessively, he would lose standing in the community. He also was clever enough to realize that such tales of brutality originated with me, but he had yet to find proof enough to punish me, let alone a way he could silence me on the subject permanently."

The gentlemen heard this account with darkening countenances. Darcy was near to glowering, his mind eye calling Collins Sr before him. A small-minded bully of a man was too kind a description from Darcy's brief acquaintance with the villain. The man, (Darcy would no longer deign to call the man a gentleman, even in his thoughts), was perhaps the most bitter hearted and twisted Darcy had had the displeasure of meeting. He had not only publicly humiliated his son at Netherfield but had knowingly ejected him from the family carriage while he was unwell and forced him to walk home from the call in a November rainstorm. Darcy was not privy to all Gantry's thoughts at present, but he knew that evidence was mounting to show that same bully had beaten his son prior to this humiliation…had whipped him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the Constable. "Miss Bernard – I must ask you to be explicit. When you refer to Mr. Collins," he glanced quickly at the notes he begun to take, ""rights as her husband" which rights, exactly do you mean?"

Elizabeth felt her left side tense. Without being conscious of her actions, Jane's grip on her sisters' hand had gradually increased with intensity as she spoke. Though her eyes remained on the wall, Jane's body had gone rigid. Elizabeth gave Jane's hand a gentle squeeze, asking her permission to continue on. There was a moment's hesitation, then a return squeeze from Jane, and her vice-like grip relaxed. The simplicity of the gesture between sisters, of speaking without words after so many years of silence between them, made Elizabeth's eyes water with grateful tears. However, she had a story to tell, so sniffing her tears back, she answered him plainly. "All of them, but he was especially fond of his right to beat her. Whatever his frustrations of the day, Jane was there to provide him with the relief he sought. He is a man of little education, and was ill prepared to run the estate, but too proud to admit his failings and too cheap to hire a steward to assist him in Longborn's management. As you might imagine…he was often frustrated."

Gantry nodded deeply, scratching furiously into a notebook.

She continued, "I must correct myself. Our mutual dislike went quite deeper than that. I detested the man for everything that he was, and he despised me for tying his hands with my wits alone. It chafed at him painfully to be outwitted by what he considered a child, and a little girl at that. Yet there was nothing he could do – he would have to reign in his treatment of Jane lest he give credence to all sorts of vile acts he had been accused of in Meryton. For months we lived in an unspoken power struggle, each waiting for the other to act."

Gantry raised his head from the pages of his leather-bound journal. "And in September 04', something happened…something that tipped the scales of power in Collins' favor."

"Yes." Elizabeth replied hoarsely, her throat drying. Beside her, Jane's tension was building once more. At first hearing September 1804 had meant little to her, but memories best left forgotten were flooding to the surface. Seven years of marriage had given Jane ample opportunity to learn her volatile husband's eccentricities. It had been several years since her husband had hit her beyond a quick and humiliating slap, but the early years of her marriage had been a difficult learning experience. She only had one memory where her husband had been truly violent – and it had occurred on a picturesque September afternoon.

The rich dark pools of Darcy's eyes locked on Elizabeth's. They were eyes imploring her, encouraging her to go on, a look directing all his strength to her. If she just looked at him, kept her eyes on his, Lizzy knew she could get through this telling, for she would not have to tell it alone. She didn't look away when she continued, "It was a remarkably fine day. The kind of day you wait for all year. I was born a country girl, and at heart I am one still. Being confined indoors has always made me restless, and on a day as fine as that one, I was positively irritable. Knowing my nature, Jane – who was overseeing my education at this time, dismissed me from my lessons early to allow me to enjoy the sunshine."

"My guardian had restricted my walks to the grounds of Longbourn. When I tired of rambling the small park, I had made of habit of visiting the stables – I was very fond of our barn cats. However, on this visit I stumbled across more than I had bargained for. I heard voices, men's voices…arguing."

Elizabeth squeezed her sisters' hands tightly. "It took only a moment to determine that one of the voices belonged to my sister's husband, and the other a stranger. He had a northern accent, and spoke with rough grammar, clearly from the lower classes."

"When you heard the gentleman arguing, how did you respond Miss Bernard?" Gantry asked, trying in vain to suppress the eagerness in his voice.

The actress flushed lightly. "I should have turned back to toward the house, but I confess, such a prudent and proper notion never crossed my mind. Instinctively, I ducked behind a hay bale and strained my ears to listen to the conversation. I was curious." She trailed off, embarrassed to confess to her childish behavior, though she could not repine what she had learned.

"Please, Miss Bernard…what did you overhear?" Gantry asked, prodding her softly.

Lizzy's eyes broke from Darcy to turn toward the sisters on either side of her. Palms sweating, she pulled her hands from their intertwined grip, ringing them anxiously. Both sisters turned toward their sibling, their expressions a mixture of concern, fear, and curiosity. "It's alright, Lizzy." Mary said, calm and patient. "We are ready to hear whatever it is you will tell us."

Elizabeth nodded, willing her courage to rise. Would they believe her?

"It was a heated conversation. The stranger…Mr. Collins called him Malvern, was making financial demands of my guardian. Nothing short of blackmail in truth. When I began to listen, Mr. Collins was attempting to deny this Malvern his demands, he was threatening to bring Malvern before the magistrate for trespassing on his estate. However, Mr. Malvern was not intimidated and accused Mr. Collins of making idle threats, as reporting Malvern for extortion would only implicate Mr. Collins in a crime. He then said the words I will never forget." She paused, taking a deep breath, her fine eyes momentarily closing. With her exhale, they flew open once more, sparkling with a simmering rage that was bubbling to the surface. "Mr. Malvern said, "An estate of your own is no trifling inheritance. This land was worth killing for, and that," she hesitated, embarrassed to repeat such words before her sisters, "ripe piece of fruit you're tupping is worth dying for, I wager."

Mrs. Collins gasped – but shocking as such knowledge of her husband must be – Gantry would not allow for an interruption of Elizabeth's story, not now. "Do you mean to imply that Mr. Malvern was accusing Mr. Collins of killing in order to receive his inheritance." He asked, bright and sharp.

"It is no implication," Elizabeth cried, "for Mr. Collins' response was to argue that he had already paid Mr. Malvern more than enough to buy the man's silence!"

"Lizzy…" Jane asked weakly, her pretty face drained, "could you have been mistaken?"

The actress twisted violently in her seat, facing her elder sister. "What I would give to have been mistaken Jane! For nearly a decade, I alone have carried the burden of knowing my father was murdered…and that my entire family had been placed into the care of his murderer! Would you like to know what happened next!?" She spat, her voice taking on an edge of hysteria.

"Indeed, I would, Miss Bennet!" Gantry replied, matching her energy with his own, "Tell us what was said between them next."

"Mr. Malvern, he argued that Mr. Collins had not paid nearly enough for 'the cost to his immortal soul'. He said, and I can hear him clearly even now… "I helped you kill a man. I confess it. I placed that laudanum into your hands knowing full well what you intended to do with it."

"And then – Miss Bennet, what next?"

"They continued to argue, but Mr. Collins was caving…Malvern presented himself as a man of little fear and with little to lose, while Collins was in a position where he had finally achieved a real measure of success. Their conversation ending, they began to move in my direction. I had been so overwhelmed by all that I heard that I did not notice their movements until they had already moved too close for me to slip away unnoticed. Panic overtook me – I did not know what to do, what I could say, and next thing I knew, darkness consumed me. I fainted into the hay."

Her head dropped, tears of frustration welling in her hazel eyes. Suddenly slender arms wrapped around her, and Elizabeth found herself curled into Jane's embrace. A sob ripped through her, releasing itself into Jane's graceful neck. The older woman ran her hand soothingly down her sisters back, protecting Elizabeth as she wept against her.

"I can continue from here." Jane said softly. With an encouraging nod from Gantry, she continued, her voice gaining strength as she spoke. "After I released Elizabeth from lessons, I removed to the drawing room, and sat for some time with a sewing project, hardly paying attention to the clock. My afternoon was interrupted when Mr. Collins entered the drawing room, angrier than I had ever seen him. He brought me to the study, where a disoriented and frightened Elizabeth was cowering in the corner, hay caught in her hair. He was extremely angry. I…" She swallowed, memories of her powerful, imposing husband coming before her – his dark eyes crackling with intensity, his normally expressionless face flushed red, veins throbbing… "I did not understand what had happened, but my efforts at soothing his temper only incited his ire further. He told us that I had agreed to make Elizabeth my responsibility...and because of this, all her transgressions were my transgressions, and I would be punished for her misbehavior."

"What happened then, Mrs. Collins?" came a sympathetic whisper.

Jane shut her eyes, pulling the crying Elizabeth closer against her. Mary stared at her sisters, icy eyes wide with wonder and dismay, not knowing until this moment how bad things had once been for them all. Gantry was leaning forward, notebook momentarily gotten, watching the sisters with the same gentle wariness one would use to approach an anxious colt.

In the chair next to him, Darcy sat erect, his body stiffening with the anger that coursed through his blood hearing Elizabeth's story in detail. Seeing her so affected, he could not help being beset by self-recrimination. Only two days prior, Darcy had called upon his beloved, enticing her to meet with him by conveying that he brought tidings from Hertfordshire. Before that day, they had not met for nearly two years prior, when she had rejected his offer of marriage and severed the ties of their acquaintance. Had he acted correctly in reopening these old wounds? He had no claim on her – he loved her, loved her with a rare sort of constancy, but he had no right to her. He had imposed on her, first in writing to her after the death of Signore Forelli, and then in forcing her to face the trauma she fled by quitting Longborn.

In these past days, Darcy had seen his Adelaide shed more tears than in all the years he had known her. Each time she cried, her tears acted as a dagger to his heart, every sniffle a twist of the blade. Had he not learnt anything from her reproofs? Why had he become so obsessed with uncovering her possible connection to the Bennet family at all – was he still so selfish? She had left her family and created a new life, had rejected the life he offered her…and yet he pushed both her family and his suit on her despite her own feelings. He thought he had overcome his "selfish disdain for the feelings of others" but it seemed his wishes were as paramount to him as ever. What had he done?

"Forgive me." Jane spoke after a moment's pause. She met both Gantry's looks of sympathy, and Darcy's combination of shame and righteous fury with a steadying calm. While she spoke, her hands never faltered in the motherly strokes she laid against her sister's back. "I do not care to recall the precise details of that day. It was a terrible day, perhaps one of the most trying days of my life, and I had buried both my parents by five-and-ten." She inclined her head slightly in Gantry's direction. "If at the end of Elizabeth's testimony, the Constable feels knowing the exact details of Mr. Collins' punishment is necessary to the case he builds, I am willing to prepare a written account of the event. I am not," she faltered for a moment, but swallowed back her hesitation. "I am not…at peace enough at present to speak of such a personal event, nor will I expose Mary to the telling of it, as she was not present the day these events took place and had no knowledge of the incident until this evening."

"Jane!" Mary croaked in protest, hardly knowing what she meant to say.

"No!" Jane turned her direction to her sister, pretty lips twisted into a scowl. "No, Mary." She repeated, softening in the face of her stoic little sister's pain. "We have our secrets, you and me. You have been my shoulder for many years. But I will not let you share this burden with me. You carry enough without this weight, Mary."

The eldest Bennet returned her attention to the investigator. "What I can say now, is that on that afternoon, Mr. Collins exerted his power over my person in an unusually aggressive display, a level of aggression that has never been repeated, and that Elizabeth was made to bear witness to it." She frowned heavily, looking down at the chestnut curls nestled into her shoulder. "It was not just that he made her watch the punishment he gave me. He told her I was receiving his blows because of her actions – he made her acknowledge it aloud, asking her questions to make it clear she understood that whenever he was displeased with her, he would show his displeasure to me."

The anger that had been building inside Darcy was becoming impossible to contain. He found himself shooting from his seat with Mrs. Collins' words, his feet leading him to the hearth. He stared into the fire, his mind racing and his heart pounding. How had Elizabeth described him? A small-minded bully? Too kind, too kind by half! This man was a loathsome wretch, the most pathetic representation of their gender – more an insult to manhood than man himself. Murderous, lecherous, and worse still the sort of inept, weak, and miserable creature that had to terrorize schoolgirls to assert his power over others.

A deep sniffle sounded from the folds of Jane's dress, and Elizabeth raised her tear-stained face. She adjusted herself into an upright position, smoothing her skirts with an apologetic half smile. "I beg your pardon," she said with a watery laugh, "I would assure you I am well, but I am afraid there are limits to my talents. I do not believe I could give a convincing performance of equanimity this evening, and I should hate to be poorly reviewed. I think we all must accept that I might succumb to more tears at any given moment." She paused for a beat, then her famous eyes widened comically. "My goodness, I do hope that the inspector came prepared with extra handkerchiefs!"

The fire of rage that had been steadily growing stronger and hotter was suddenly extinguished. He pulled his eyes from the fire to take in the vision of his beloved. There she sat, dark curls floating about her lovely tear-stained face in a wispy sort of chaos, her pert lips pulling themselves into a winsome sort of smile. That she could laugh in such a moment, oh how it thrilled him! He had always admired her good humor, envied it even, but now he saw it for it what it truly was. Her humor was her strength. Where a moment before he had been full of nothing but anger, he now only felt the pleasant glow of love filling his breast, knowing his adoration only deepened with her display.

Gantry returned her small smile with a broad, friendly one of his own. "As it happens, Miss Bennet, I make a habit of carrying several with me at all times." Reaching into the pocket of his waist coat, he removed a fresh handkerchief, handing it to her as she let out pleasant peal of laughter.

Patting at her cheeks, Elizabeth addressed the group. "I too, would not prefer to discuss what I witnessed that afternoon out loud in mixed company. I would be willing, as my sister is, to write it for Constable Gantry's benefit – but I must discuss what happened later that evening."

"That evening!?" Jane asked, sweet voice sharp with surprise and worry.

Elizabeth nodded to her sister, and shifted, attempting to shake away the last vestiges of her nerves. The rest of her story needed to be told, for all their sakes.

"Yes." She finally said, "After the household was abed, Mr. Collins visited my bedroom. You see – that afternoon, Mr. Collins, and presumably, his companion, discovered me quite unconscious. He had no way of knowing how long I had been at the hay bale, whether I was truly asleep or pretending, or if I had overheard any of his conversation. He told me Jane was being punished for my choosing to nap in the hay like a common field hand, but I knew why he was punishing Jane…and why he made me watch. He was afraid of what I could know, and he wanted to remind me of his power…he was clever enough to realize that bringing injury to Jane would be more painful for me than anything he could inflict upon my person. His treatment of Jane was a threat of what could happen if I spoke against him. When he finally released her from his discipline and left us, I could tell he was not satisfied, he looked at me with such black hatred in his eyes."

"Oh Lizzy…" Jane whispered, tortured, reaching for her sister with desperate hands. "What did he do?"

Rather than turning inward at the frightening memory, Elizabeth grinned wickedly. "I had seen that his anger was still hot, and I was terrified. I was sure in that moment that he must know that I had overheard him, and I wanted to run that very day. Yet I could not bare the idea of leaving my sisters unprotected, nor did I have a plan or any money. The best I could for the moment was to protect myself – I knew if my sister's husband wished to harm or threaten me, he would have to wait for the household to retire, to avoid any witnesses. He would make sure that any complaint would be an argument of my word against his."

Her smile reached her eyes with the memory, sparkling with amusement. "I did not have much to protect myself with…but I did have a small hand mirror and a sewing basket. I assumed, rightly, that should my guardian wish to sneak into my bedroom undetected, he would do so barefooted to muffle his steps. I cracked the mirror, scattering pieces of broken glass from the path of my doorway to my bed. Then I took all the pins in my sewing basket, pushing them through the seam of my thickest blanket, so that they all faced outward but would hardly be noticeable in the darkness. I kept my sewing scissors in my hand."

"He did, eventually enter – it must have been well after midnight. I lay on my side, facing away from the door, my weaponized blanket pulled tightly to my chin, scissors clutched in my hand, my heart pounding. He was barefoot and shuffled in quietly. He did not carry a candle. With each step I prayed a piece of glass would catch him in an exposed toe...but he made his way over to my bedside." She paused, her eyes bright, "he reached across me, grabbing at the edge of the blanket to pull it from my body at my shoulder…only to receive a handful of pins pressed deeply into his palm."

Her smile dropped at the serious mien of her audience. "I spun around quite violently, swiping at him with the open blade of my scissors. He jumped back in surprise, so I only grazed his forearm, but I did have the satisfaction of seeing him step directly into a particularly nasty shard of my mirror. My heart was racing. I hissed at him to get out, that I was about to scream, that I would tell the whole household he had forced himself upon me. That the shame would ruin our family forever."

"Elizabeth…" Darcy murmured, staring at her in wonder. This evening at Netherfield she had appeared to him as delicate as the most precious porcelain. But for all her tender heart and fragile feelings, Elizabeth was a fighter. To imagine her then, younger than his own dear sister was today, fighting off the advances of her guardian with her wits and what weapons a thirteen year old could gather from a woman's work basket…he couldn't be sure in that moment whether he felt more anger that his Elizabeth, and all the Bennet daughters, had been so poorly protected from such a villain…or more in awe of her wild, reckless courage, and resourceful nature.

She smiled gently at him, her speaking eyes coaxing Darcy to accept what he heard. She had warned him that Elizabeth's story was worse than Adelaide's. She just had admitted before an officer of the law that she had been compromised by her brother-in-law and as well as the fact she had assaulted a gentleman. After all, Elizabeth's clever methods of self-dense had prevented Collins from harming her, if that had been his intention. He could very well claim he only entered his ward's bedroom to discuss the events of the day with her privately, perhaps to be sure she had learned her lesson. After all, he was a gentleman of property, and Elizabeth was a runaway orphan turned model and actress. Whose story would a court favor? Could they understand why she had acted as she had?

Jane still to her sisters left hand side, was staring at the storyteller with ever increasing comprehension. "I remember." She said painfully. "He sliced his left foot clear across the center of his arch. He blamed it on a garden tool carelessly left out overnight. He claimed to have walked out for fresh air before dawn and stepped on it without his boots. He fired the Granville boy two days later."

Lizzy's face pursed, remembering as well. "Yes, he was waylaid for several days, the cut could not heal properly if walked on, as the stiches would tear and reopen the wound. Then, you might recall, he began walking about days sooner than Mr. Jones had advised, and just has he warned, the stiches ripped, and the cut festered! The infection kept him sick for nearly a fortnight and there was talk at one point that he might lose his foot. I admit, I alternated between praying that the fever would kill him, and begging the Lord it would not, because I was terrified, I would go to Hell as a murderer if he died then."

"I must assume, at some point during Mr. Collins illness, you came to determine that Longborn would no longer be a safe home for you." Gantry said, his expression pensive.

"I decided that the very night I ejected my brother-in-law from my bedroom. After my nerves had cooled, I was able to think more logically about the situation I found myself in. I realized in being so well prepared for Mr. Collins' visit, I had given away the game. If he had suspicions of my having overheard his conversation with his coconspirator, my defensive behavior only served as proof. I could perhaps attribute my defenses to his punishment of Jane that afternoon, if I were given the chance to speak, but it seemed highly unlikely he would be inclined to listen to any argument from me. Whatever had gone unspoken between us before this day was now openly acknowledged, and I had drawn first blood. There was no way I could remain. If anything, Mr. Collins being bedridden, and then fevered only delayed my leaving. After all, if he died, my problems would be solved, and I could stay with Jane at Longborn forever."

"You are not the only one who prayed he would succumb to that injury." Jane murmured beside her; her tone touched with bitterness.

"If you were sure you had no choice but to leave, Mr. Collins illness must have been a boon to you." Gantry said.

"It was." She replied, smiling slightly. "It gave me time to plan and prepare. Jane was so occupied in tending to her husband that my studies were quite neglected. I had plenty of free hours during those weeks. I raided the attic and cellars for anything of use for traveling, or anything of value I could sell or trade that might go unnoticed. I also stole nearly a pound by shortchanging the housekeeper every time I returned from assisting with errands in the village. It worried me that Hill might be accused if the discrepancy was ever noticed, but I hoped that Jane would have the good sense to place the blame on me as I would have already been gone some weeks by the time my theft was discovered." She glanced at her elder sister, apology across her face. "If you have taken inventory of mama's chest in recent years, you might have noticed that half the French lace has disappeared. It would be ill advised to place the blame on a chambermaid."

"The French lace!" Jane cried, agitated. "I have been saving that for Mary's trousseau."

"I rather wish you had stolen it all, Lizzy." Mary interjected flatly.

Elizabeth grinned at the younger girl. Looking back to the Constable she said, "Most importantly, during that time, I took over the post duties while Jane was preoccupied. I could not be positive that Malvern would write to my guardian so soon after they had met face to face, but I rather prayed I could get my hands on his address if nothing else. I made it a point to have our mail delivered directly to my hands – not even letting Hill catch a glimpse until I had reviewed all the arrivals. I lingered, watching for signs of my guardian's recovery, while anxiously waiting for some shred of proof of my story to arrive."

"The very day Mr. Collins was declared to be out of danger by Mr. Jones, my diligence was rewarded. Malvern had written to Collins after all." She leaned forward, reaching toward the sofa table where her reticule sat, forgotten until this moment. She pulled the small bag open, removing a weathered envelope, addressed to William Collins of Longborn. She stretched the letter toward Darcy. "I believe it would be easier to read the letter aloud than summarize its contents. Would you be so kind to oblige me Darcy? You are already familiar with the contents."

Darcy squared his shoulders, taking the missive from her hands. He had accompanied her to Bow Street only two days past, when Elizabeth had revealed to him that her father had been murdered, and that she had proof of the conspiracy to kill him. As they had traveled to Netherfield to reunite the Bennet sisters, Bow Street Runners had set out from London, searching for Robert Malvern. He was not eager to read these words aloud, but he could hardly blame Elizabeth for being unequal to the task. He cleared his throat and began:

"Collins –

Your troubles with that little bitch are no concern of mine. You could have met me in your study and demanded your privacy, like a proper master. Instead, I was treated worse than you do your dogs, all because of your own cheapness. I did warn you that the stables were too open and busy a place to discuss our business, but I was not good enough company to be seen with the master of Longborn. I told you to silence her then! That very moment you could have snapped her neck and claim she tripped and fell – or we could have taken our turns beating the chit until she would not have a memory left except your first. Have you forgotten who you are? I know the hole you drug yourself from to live amongst your betters. So concerned to play the gentleman that you've let your household slip from your control – if you are incapable of frightening the girl into silence, then you will have to silence her yourself. You told me she is constantly wandering about outdoors? Allow her to wander further and in more dangerous areas, and be sure to see she encounters danger there. Has a little girl made a fool of you? Fought off with scissors and broken glass? You beg my assistance to help you...with a child. I beg your pardon, your Lordship, but such work is beneath an honest lowlife such as myself.

The scullery maid at the Hare & Hound has located me at my new address and is threatening to talk. She lives in the protection of an elder brother who I am not inclined to cross. The fees associated with the service we provided for you in April '03 have now increased by 50 pounds.

-M

Elizabeth allowed but a moment for the assembled group to absorb the gravity of Malvern's letter, and all that it had implied. "This letter provided me with more than a mere address, it corroborated my story. I was elated, dizzy with the knowledge that I could prove my father had been killed. But with that happiness came a more sinister revelation. This letter also confirmed my worst fears, that there was now a direct threat against my life because of what I had heard. I knew that my guardian was recovering, and when he was fully healed, he would waste no time in seeking not only to silence me, but to revenge himself against the cut I had given him. I knew I could not linger any longer, and I was prepared as I could have been. As much as it pained me to do, I left Longborn that very night."

"You were smart to take it with you, Miss Bennet." Gantry said gravely, taking the letter from Darcy's outstretched hand, and eyeing it with interest.

"Without it, I'm afraid I have no other proof – I have no better understanding of how my father was killed or how the conspiracy formed than I did seven years ago. Without that letter, my journey is nothing more than a fantastic tale."

"Not quite Lizzy." Came a soft voice from her left. "This accusation against my husband…it pains me in a way I can't properly put into words in this moment…I feel…I am ashamed. I am bound to this man by the will of God, but I have no defense for him. I do not want to believe him capable of an act so heinous…but I know he is not a man who puts much stock in upholding his Christian values…yes…it is quite possible than he is far worse a man than I could have ever fathomed."

She paused, her cornflower eyes turning to Gantry with an eager brightness. "I can not speak regarding any plot my husband may have formed against my father; I was wholly ignorant of such an idea until this evening. However, I can lend credence to Elizabeth's story…the slippers he claimed he had been wearing the day he cut his foot…I kept them."

"You kept them, Mrs. Collins!" Gantry exclaimed, almost leaping out of his seat.

"Yes." She replied demurely, blushing at his excitement. "I had been told to dispose of the set, but the rip in the slipper was not beyond my skills in mending. I knew my husband would be annoyed to see them again so soon after the pair had offended him, but I thought he might be appreciative my economy at a later time. I fixed the injury and stored them in the attic, where they've spent the last seven years, gathering dust. Only after I had packed them away, did I begin to become curious about them. After several rounds of redressing my husband's wound, it occurred to me that the rip in his slipper did not match the direction of the cut in his skin…and as I contemplated them with more consideration, I realized there had been no blood in the shoe, despite his needing stitches to the close the wound. But what was I to make of it? I hardly felt I could question him. I was more frightened of him then than I had ever been. I devoted myself to nursing him to health, as a good wife should, and eventually put the slippers out of my mind."

They looked between one another other, mind's whirling with possibilities throughout the small sitting room. A long, heavy moment stretched out between the sisters and the investigators as they each realized just how important these slippers could be. Their collective mulling was interrupted by Mary, who first broke from the group with an exasperated sigh.

"There is nothing for it, I suppose." She said pointedly, looking toward the gentleman, "One of us must go to Longborn."

The direction of the entire room turned toward her, and Mary felt herself flush at the rapid and pointed attention in her direction. However, she knew she was right. "If everything Elizabeth has told us tonight is true, then finding those slippers could prove essential to building her case against our cousin Collins. They must be retrieved from the house. We all must accept this immediately. In truth, my only question is…which one of you gentleman will be so good as to escort me to Longborn tomorrow?" Her icy stare swiveled toward the pair of men, but they merely grazed by Darcy before settling on Gantry's bright eager gaze.

Elizabeth, Jane, and Darcy found themselves protesting the plan at once, speaking over one another due to the fervor and vehemence of their objections. Mary allowed their voices to pass by her, their doubts heard but unheeded. Her quick mind had already left Netherfield's doors and wandered the halls of Longborn, devising the cleverest scheme she could to root through their little used attic without arousing her guardian's suspicion.

Across from her, Constable Gantry grinned. "What time should we head out, do you think?"

Mary's plump lips tilted into a pleased smirk.

"Early." She replied, decisively. "Far too early."

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Author's Notes: Thank you for reading! This chapter was a doozy to write, and there is a lot of unpack emotionally, big and small clues dropped, and plot pushed forward. I can't wait to hear all your thoughts!