He awoke surrounded in a strange, but intriguing scent, and when his eyes opened, clear and bright for the first time since before he'd gotten ill, he found himself in a room unlike any other he'd ever been in.

A room, and a bed, and a bedclothes that was most definitely not his own, and he sat up quickly, startling awake a man in the corner, whom he realized was his host, Mr. Gardiner.

Mr. Gardiner who'd clearly been asleep in a leather wing-back chair, dressed in morning clothes rather hastily and looking slightly unkempt.

"Ah, good morning, Mr. Darcy, how nice to see you are well. How do you feel?" He asked, rising and stretching out the kinks of a night spent in an unfortunate sleeping position.

"Very well, and, ah, where am I?" Mr. Darcy felt more than embarrassed, for it seemed not only was he in a room that was not his own, but from the general accoutrements on the dressing table, and rather feminine lines to the furnishings, he had been installed in a lady's bedroom.

"You are, indeed, in one of the guest bedrooms, in fact. When you collapsed in the hallway last night, and we could not bring you downstairs, Mrs. Gardiner suggested it was best not to disturb your rest further by moving you downstairs to my room, or back up to yours."

"Yes, that was wise," Mr. Darcy muttered, and his face heated up. He had collapsed in the hallway?

"Your clothes have dried, but mostly, how are you feeling now? You gave us all quite a scare. We had the doctor called for."

"I am well, no need for concern, it is not the first time I've fallen ill, and certainly not the worst." Mr. Darcy did feel a bit sore in the limbs, and what seemed to be a ghost of a headache throbbed at the base of his neck... but... he did not feel as poorly as he had done yesterday.

"I will inform the doctor," Mr. Gardiner said, nodding, "and I am sure there is breakfast in the morning room, if you can manage it?"

"I think so, but perhaps..."

Mr. Gardiner looked at Mr. Darcy and cleared his throat.

"I will have my valet come up and dress you, and then, perhaps he will see to me as well, I'm afraid I got dressed rather hurriedly last night." He nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Darcy to his perplexing thoughts and foggy memories of the night previous.

What had he done, other than collapse in a hallway? He could remember little after being bathed, and the warm broth and posset, and his dreams, his fever-dreams had been... punctuated by a soft scent, and the gentle touch of-

Oh no.

He froze in place.

He did not... he did not stumble into a young woman's bedroom last night-

But it was returning to him in a flash, the cool air, the window open, the need for coolness. And then-

No, he could not have. He would never. He would never intrude into the personal quarters of a woman, and a respectable young woman at that, he had far more honor than that. He would not compromise her, not... not Elizabeth Bennet.

Although... it was coming back to him in a rush, he had confessed to her his feelings.

How had that happened? Why had that happened? Cursed fever, cursed rain! He had not only made a fool of himself, but he had put Miss Elizabeth into a horrific position, a strange man stumbling into her bedchambers, demanding that she love him?

He could never forgive himself.

She would never forgive him.

A knock came at the door and started him out of his panic, but it was only the valet, who dressed him in his freshly laundered clothes, and instructed him where to go downstairs to find the morning room.

He felt rather like he'd started on the left foot, and was still feeling the effects of his feverish state when he entered the morning room to find Mr. Gardiner already breaking his fast.

"I am just pleased to see you up, Mr. Darcy, and looking well enough that you might find your comfort at home," Mr. Gardiner said. "My nieces have just finished their breakfasts and have gone to the drawing room to write some correspondence, but there is much food, so please, do not think yourself an imposition, for you are not."

Mr. Darcy felt he might as well have been an imposition, for how uncomfortable he was in his skin, and with the events of the last day, but he thanked Mr. Gardiner and did his best to take the older gentleman at his word, and eat with the appearance of enjoying his meal.

He was almost successful, when, just as the cook brought out a tray of eggs, sausage, and kippers, Miss Elizabeth appeared in the doorway, a small smile on her lips, a book tucked under her arm.

Darcy started to his feet immediately, Mr. Gardiner a moment later being older and a touch slower.

Elizabeth was a sight in the day's early light, her curls arranged just so, her eyes sparkling, and the lines of her figure in the simple muslin morning dress most becoming.

She looked fresh, and beautiful, intelligence and with sparkling in her eyes, and he knew at that moment, with every fiber of his being, he was a hopeless case, for he loved her with every ounce of his being,

He was doomed to be bereft and heart-wrenched for the rest of his days, for there was no way someone as lovely and clever as she would accept him, not after what he had done last night, even if it had been in a fit of feverish stupor. He had put her in a most indelicate position, accidentally compromising her, and it was by the grace of God and her both that he had not been thrown out on his ear or challenged to a duel by Mr. Gardiner himself this morning.

"Mr. Darcy, good morning, I am delighted to see you up and about," Elizabeth said, and although she seemed perfectly content, the ease in her voice, and the relaxed line of her shoulders, did not set him at ease. And... did he detect a hidden spark of mirth in her expression? It flickered for a moment. "Uncle, if I would beg your attention for moment? Papa has written and he had some questions, I think, about your last missive and the Dowager's news."

News? Mr. Darcy took his seat as Mr. Gardiner did, Darcy unable to focus on his breakfast and instead looked between the uncle and the niece.

"Ah yes, I will write to him after I am done, but you may leave his letter for me if you please. I am sure he is overset by the news-" Mr. Gardiner cleared his throat, and glanced at Mr. Darcy. "Return to your sister, and I will join you as soon as I am finished here, Lizzy," he said, and Lizzy bowed her head before leaving the room, Mr. Bennet's letter left by his right hand on the table. He cleared his throat and gave Mr. Darcy a brief smile. "I am sure the Ton will be full of it by week's end, as well. Mr. Darcy, there is no delicate way to put this, but I would invite you into our confidence as you are here while we are dealing with the business of it, especially as... I know you to be a man of great wisdom when it comes to matters of finance-"

Mr. Darcy was intrigued. What was Mr. Gardiner getting at? Darcy was just grateful from the distraction that seemed to have brushed aside his own illness and subsequent indescretion. This news was most welcome to him as well.

"You will not have heard yet, but the Dowager Marchioness of Ashford, upon the success of her presentation of my nieces and other... such similar events that have commended my nieces into her good favor, has chosen to gift them each with additional funds for their doweries." Mr. Gardiner drummed his fingers nervously on the edge of the table, as if waiting for Darcy's harsh judgement, or some other verbal cut, but all Mr. Darcy could feel was a general sinking in his chest.

"What... happy news," he managed, "it really does commend them both, that she would see their value, as I'm sure you feel the same."

"Yes, the Dowager has been a great benefactor to myself and my extended family, in fact she has brought us up in the world in ways I could never have imagined. And in this time of their lives, she is providing such opportunity and gift of future happiness to the two girls I hold as close to my heart as my own children," Mr. Gardiner said, the softness in his expression hitting Darcy with a sudden longing for his own parents. "I believe that both of my nieces will be able, if perhaps not able to pick their matches, they will not be hindered in their choice by their family's circumstances."

Darcy cleared his throat.

"There has been some talk of their circumstances," he commented quietly, and Mr. Gardiner's look turned to shadow with irritation.

"I can only imagine. The Ton delights in ridicule and looks for the opportunity to spurn as if it were their sole employment," Mr. Gardiner commented with some heat, born out of the protective feelings he had toward his nieces.

If he had a single inkling of how and when Mr. Darcy had ended up in Elizabeth's bedroom last night... Darcy needed to contrive some quiet moment between him and Miss Elizabeth Bennet so he may make his apology to her, and find out exactly who knew, and how much they knew.

He had dishonored her, even accidentally and unaware of it, and he needed to put it to rights.

He swallowed down his feelings, his throat so painful he wasn't sure he'd be able to manage a bite of the feast set down in front of him.

"If I may be so bold after this, I will wish the ladies the best of luck with their prospects, and that they may find gentlemen worthy of them. There are not many that would be deserving of them, I am sure." Darcy's words were sincere, even if they cracked his chest open and it felt as if his heart would stop beating. He had no wish to see Elizabeth married to any other...

"I hope you are not speaking ill of yourself," Mr. Gardiner said, glancing at him as he took another bite of his egg. "You would make a fine match for any young woman. Had I been less common, I'd suggest a pairing between you and one of my nieces, a better match I do not think I could hope for," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

If he only knew.

Darcy felt the color drain from his face, and the food he'd eaten felt like it would revolt and reappear.

"That is a kind thought," he murmured, "and I will beg your pardon and take my leave, saying goodbye to them, and thanks to your wife for the care I have received under this roof."

Mr. Gardiner waved him off with a nod and Darcy found himself standing outside the doors to the drawing room, hesitating to enter.

It was too much. He was too raw, too close, and the thought that Mr. Gardiner thought him a fit match for either of his nieces was enough to have him wanting to run to the ends of the earth.

He was about to turn arnd walk away, escape this humiliation and simply hire a cab out on the street, when the doors opened, and there, surrounded by a pouring of light, was the object of his every thought and reason that his heart continued to beat.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth's expression was gentle, but a smile tucked into the corner of her mouth. "Do you find yourself rather... better this morning? I'm afraid you were in such a state last night, the whole house barely slept for concern for you."

She spoke kindly, but he could not forget what had happened, what he'd said, and how she must surely despise him.

"Miss Elizabeth, I... I owe you the most profound apology for my actions last night," he managed, his throat thick, his jaw heavy. "I confess-"

"Stop," Elizabeth said, her look turning anxious and she glanced over her shoulder into the drawing room, where Jane sat, far from the doors, concentrating on a letter in her hands. "Please," she said softly, stepping out into the hall. She pressed her lips together, looking around before smiling at him, somewhat pained, and a little sad. "My only concern is for your wellbeing. You were overwrought last night and caught fast in the fever's grip. That you've made such a recovery is good news, and that is all that should matter."

"But-"

"It is all we will speak of," she said forcefully, her eyes searching his face. "I would hate for there to be harsh words, more harsh words," she paused, "between us based on something that was fully out of your control. All that matters is that you were found in the hallway beyond our bedrooms, and were quite ill. My aunt helped me bring you to my bed where you could find rest and recover from your sickness. And that is all... all we ever need to say of it."

He could not reply. She was giving him relief from any claim she had on his personage, on his honor…

Because she had no want of him.

Many a girl would only hope to be in the position to force a gentleman such as him into a hasty marriage, he could name at least five and ten that he knew well to steer clear of (and Miss Bingley was certainly one of them with such machinations).

But not her.

He was a man that had fallen short of the mark, but she would not use it against him, nor would she shame him, not even to have him.

Because she did not want him.

That struck him to his core, shattered the ragged remains of his heart, and it was all he could do to remain upright instead of sinking to his knees.

He took a breath, and stepped backward.

"Of course... your kindness, and that of your aunt's, will not be soon forgotten. If I could beg your pardon, I must-"

He turned, and in a manner most unlike him, he fled the hall, the house, to the street outside, without even so much as a thought to fetching his coat.

I am so pleased to announce that Duty and Desire is now available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple iBooks, and more, just search for 'Nora Kipling - Duty and Desire'! You may purchase it right away or wait for a new chapter to be uploaded here every Thursday. Thank you for all your loving support.

- Nora