The public house was dark when they entered, and Elizabeth needed a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim candle lighting after being outside. But what she couldn't see, she could hear—the rumbling of male voices in spirited conversation and the clinking of steins on the bar. Surprisingly, the pub was full of men. Several uniformed regimentals sat together in a group at a back table, while at the bar several of Meryton's men sat. She nearly gasped at the sight. Many of the men had removed their jackets, loosened their cravats, and sat disheveled in their seats, in only their great shirts and suspenders to hold up their pants. It was all quite shocking. She recognized several of Meryton's respectable gentlemen in their midst. Another table of strangers played cards nearby as a buxom serving-girl Elizabeth did not know served them.

"This is a house of ill repute!" Elizabeth gasped, almost involuntarily.

Bingley chuckled at her reaction. "Ha! No, just a country pub. But what a prude you are, Darcy! It's no worse than one of the private clubs at Almacks, just less rich. Relax, we can take in the local color for a few hours. No one will bother us as two gentlemen from town. It would be rude not to socialize."

Elizabeth bristled at the suggestion but followed Bingley to an empty table. She sat and instantly wished she had Jane to confide in, though her sister would never believe this tale. A moment later, Elizabeth felt a hand rake through her hair as the serving woman–if one could kindly call her that–came to their table to take their order.

"What fine company do we have here tonight? I'll wager some gentlemen from town. What might you be wanting?" After she ruffled Elizabeth's hair, she turned her eyes (and her bosom) towards Bingley, who turned very red.

Elizabeth shivered at her caress. She wondered if this was the kind of place a man could put down money and pay to have a "lady" like this do any number of untold things. Did Darcy regularly frequent venues such as this? She wondered if he was the type. He did not seem to be, as such a diffident person, but then perhaps even gentlemen were less picky about where they dipped their wicks, as she heard her Lydia say once to Kitty. She blushed at the nature of her thoughts.

She turned to her companion. Did Bingley enjoy places such as this? His red, flushed face made her think he was not accustomed to them either.

"Two pints," Bingley spoke, struggling to keep his eyes upon the woman's face. "Please."

The server smiled a knowing smile and returned with their pints, set on the counter before them. Her expression sharpened as she waited for payment. Elizabeth sat still, waiting for Bingley to offer up his coin.

"Bingley, you must pay the man," Elizabeth said lowly, elbowing her companion.

Bingley tsked and grasped his tankard. "Darcy, how many times have you chided me for my spending? You have my purse and you know it."

Elizabeth watched the server woman's eyes narrow as Bingley took his first sip. So Darcy carried Bingley's money too? She slipped her hands into the jacket on her back. Her hands found a felt-lined pouch that held heavy coin. Thank God. She breathed a quick sigh of relief and pulled it out.

She set down several coins and quickly added more for the woman, whose face relaxed into an expected smile. "Thank you kindly, Gentlemen."

"And you chide me for my spending! You gave her double the payment for the pints," Bingley said lowly. Elizabeth watched the woman head to the backroom.

"Yes, well, she certainly earns her wages, does she not?" Elizabeth said. In truth, she had not been sure of the price of two pints and simply set down what she hoped was enough. Clearly, she had overestimated the amount.

"Yes, but it's my money with which you are overly generous!"

Bingley took a long drink, and Elizabeth too realized she was parched from the road. She was no fan of lager, however, and wondered if she might get some lemonade or even sherry, but glanced around and realized that was exceedingly unlikely.

She eyed the sweating tankard, her throat growing drier. Finally, she lifted it and the hoppy, sour flavor filled her throat. She made a face without realizing it.

"Oh, it's not that bad," Bingley said, grinning. "We drunk far worse."

Though strong, it settled in her stomach comfortably, Elizabeth had to admit. She took another sip. Her stomach growled accordingly. She had an appetite too. She found Mr. Darcy's body was constantly famished.

"Now that we are alone, I did wish to broach the topic of Miss Jane Bennet. You know I rely on your good opinion, particularly in delicate matters such as this."

Elizabeth struggled to mask her expression with another sip.

"I am quite taken with her, and I wish to hear your opinion of her," Bingley said.

Here Elizabeth smiled. This was not difficult. "I think the world of Jane Bennet."

Bingley's brow furrowed. "You do? That has not been your opinion before."

Elizabeth's eyebrows raised with surprise "And what do you recall I said?"

Bingley looked flustered. "You said she seemed a sweet-natured girl, of course, but you were not convinced of the strength of her affections. And you found her family lacking in propriety, which may be so, but…"

Elizabeth spoke up, interrupting Bingley. "Lacking in propriety? In what sense?"

"Not Miss Bennet, nor her sister, Miss Elizabeth. But you said you found the rest lacking in common sense. I believe you used many colorful words to describe Mrs. Bennet."

Heat flushed Elizabeth's face. But she could hardly counter the accusations made her of her Mama.

"Well, perhaps I was mistaken," Elizabeth said, annoyed. "Am I not allowed to amend my previous opinion?" She took another sip of beer. "I mean, yes, the youngest girls are silly and indulged, but really, what young daughters are not? And, yes, the Mama is too concerned with marrying them off, but I do believe she means well. And Mr. Bennet is a kindly, intelligent man."

"Kindly? You said you thought him an indulgent fool!"

"What? Did I say that? I was mistaken, clearly." Elizabeth took another pull of lager to hide her annoyance. "You know sometimes, Bingley, I fear I am a pompous ass myself who speaks absolute twaddle! I do not think you could find a kinder wife than Jane Bennet."

Bingley's eyebrows rose in surprise, a smile broke across his face. "You surprise me greatly today, Darcy."

"Perhaps you should interrogate my opinions more closely."

"Perhaps I will." Bingley laughed, and he and Darcy smiled at each other for a moment. Elizabeth wondered if Bingley was beginning to like the new Darcy. Certainly, she was better company than the previous one, she thought.

Elizabeth turned as more men walked in and a pleasant fuzziness bubbled up in her chest. Somehow, everything was terribly amusing. She was here! In a public house! Jane would die if she knew. What must Darcy be doing in her body? The fizziness blurred her thoughts, making her feel light and silly, and she fancied she could feel her blood thrumming through her veins. Was this how drunk felt?

Elizabeth felt a rush of affection for Bingley. He was a nice man, she was sure he would treat Jane well.

"So you really fancy Jane, do you? Miss Jane Bennet?"

Bingley's face grew serious and he set his hand to his chest. "Fancy her? She is an angel!"

This pleased Elizabeth greatly. "I'm quite pleased to hear you say so."

Bingley's face grew serious and he eyed his pint carefully. "Do you think she might have me, Darcy?"

Elizabeth's heart brimmed. "I suspect she would." If only Jane knew!

Bingley's face changed into a look of blissfulness. "Would that I might have her. What could I not do with her by my side?"

Elizabeth smiled, happy that her sister might have made such an eligible match and that Jane had found a man who endeavored to deserve her. Elizabeth's head buzzed pleasantly, and she finally understood why it was that men drank spirits. She and her sisters had only drunk watered-done wine on occasion.

"I do believe you are smiling more than I have seen in a month's time," Bingley said, which caused Elizabeth's smile to broaden. If only you knew.

Just then something unexpected touched Elizabeth's neck. She turned to see the serving woman standing nearby, playing with a curling lock of Darcy's hair. "What can I get you, love?" Elizabeth nearly leaped out of her seat, she was so taken aback.

"Oh! Did I scare you, love? I'll not bite. Unless you ask nicely." She grinned wickedly.

Bingley laughed at Darcy's reaction. "What a nelly you are!" Bingley nodded and gestured for another two pints, and the woman smiled and nodded. "There is one piece of business that distracts me. The gamekeeper's assistant for Netherfield has hurt his leg and must be bed-bound for a few weeks. And I was to offer a hunt the day after the ball."

The serving woman set the drinks in front of them. "Anything I can get you, love?" As she spoke, she pressed a hand up to Darcy's neck. Elizabeth flinched again, though her hand was warm and soft. Something strange happened to Elizabeth. She felt her face as a warm sensation snaked up her legs. Her lap felt hot and her face flushed, and she realized a part of her–well, Darcy's–body responded to the woman's touch. Dear Lord! She realized a part of Darcy's body was becoming aroused and bigger–and it was not an unpleasurable sensation! She quickly shifted her weight and crossed a leg, hoping her reaction was not visible. Bingley was still going on about needing a gamekeeper's assistant. Elizabeth stared ahead and prayed the feeling might…go down. Thankfully, after a few moments, she felt her face cool, her heart settle, and her body return to normal. Finally she realized Bingley had asked her a question.

"Are you listening to a word I say, Darcy?"

Elizabeth snapped to attention. "Yes, Absolutely! I'm sorry, I'm–er, my mind is elsewhere." How on earth did men get anything done all day with this thing between their legs?

"Indeed, Darcy. You haven't heard a word I've said," Bingley huffed, but Elizabeth could tell he had too mild a constitution to be angry with his friend for more than a few moments. "Are you thinking of the ball? Caroline is up in arms because she wishes the orchestra to play a new waltz. But no one here will be familiar with it."

As Bingley spoke, Elizabeth saw outside the window that Meryton townfolk passed by. She saw a familiar tall shape: one very tall and one quite short. It was awkward Thomas Wiley and his mother, so dislike in height it was comical. For a moment, her heart squeezed painfully, so achingly did she wish to help them. Then a flash came over Elizabeth.

"Charles, you say the gamekeeper needs assistance for the hunt?"

"Yes. See you are not listening. Someone will need to collect the game."

Elizabeth stood, and realized she was uneasy on her feet. The lager.

"I may have a solution," she said slowly, making sure she pronounced each word, not wishing to appear inebriated. "Forgive me, I shall return shortly."

Elizabeth strode out of the pub and onto the street, surprised again at how quickly and easily Darcy's tall body moved when bidden to. She was out the door and nearly upon the Wileys before she realized it. She called out to the boy and his mother before she remembered she was a stranger to them–and one they were not likely to view favorably. She stood back and smiled. "Hello, there!"

Thomas's eyes widened with fear when he saw Darcy approaching them. He grew agitated, swaying from side to side. Elizabeth recognized his agitation and immediately sought to calm the boy.

"Excuse me, I am very sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you might welcome a business proposition?"

Mrs. Wiley recognized Darcy and her lips thinned till they were nearly invisible as she pulled Thomas closer to herself.

"What do you want? We are not bothering you."

"No, indeed." Elizabeth smiled kindly. "In fact, I feel I must offer an apology for my behavior the other night. It was unforgivable, and I'm sorry. And I am in the odd position of asking you for a favor."

Her eyes narrowed. "What favor might you need from us?"

Elizabeth bent her head so she was not so much taller than Mrs. Wiley. "I–and my good friend, Mr. Bingley," she gestured to him inside the pub window, "were wondering if your son might wish to desire some employment. Mr. Bingley will be having a hunt at Netherfield next week. And it seems his gamekeeper has been injured. We were wondering if Thomas might wish to collect game? He would be rewarded well, of course."

Mrs. Wiley looked at him carefully, clear she still did not trust him, which Elizabeth could well understand. "I wish to make up for my rudeness the other evening at the assembly. I did not wish for either of you to be embarrassed."

Thomas still swayed back and forth, but his stance calmed when Elizabeth mentioned the job. His gaze went eagerly from his mother to the man in front of them both.

"You wish me to work for Mr. Bingley?" he said slowly.

Elizabeth smiled widely at the boy's astonishment. "If you are so willing. Yes."

Thomas's mother's face still did not relax. "Why are you asking my son to do so? Cannot you find other hands to accommodate you?"

Elizabeth held Darcy's hat in front of her. "Well, yes, probably. But I wished to make it up to you both for the..incident at the assembly. I felt as though I owed you. Both of you."

Thomas smiled and nodded, clearly eager for the work. He turned and bent his head down to his Mama. "May I, Mother?"

Mrs. Wiley frowned, realizing she could not fight both the boy's wishes and her desire for money. She nodded reluctantly. "I suppose if you really wish to." She turned back to Darcy. "But if he has any problems or is hurt, I'll hold you personally responsible. And you won't like it."

Elizabeth saw the fierceness in Mrs. Wiley's eyes and nodded. "Yes, of course. Mr. Bingley and I will personally see to your son's safety ourselves."

Mrs. Wiley blinked and nodded at this. "Very well, then. Come along, Thomas, we must be on our way."

Elizabeth watched the mother and son head down the street away from her, her heart still in her throat. She was doing the right thing for Thomas Wiley, wasn't she? She certainly hoped so. The boy had seemed pleased about the opportunity to work, and she would endeavor to make sure he was treated fairly. It was the least Darcy could do, could he not, she reasoned. Elizabeth felt a pinprick of pride in her actions. At least she was using the situation to her advantage. She walked back to the public house, now feeling the woozy fatigue in her legs. The lager had made her tired and she wished to lie down. Being a gentleman was tiring business indeed!