Thank you for all the lovely reviews for the last chapter. It is a rarity when I get such a large number of reviews and I treasure that. You are the best!

You can find the article that Ms. Berry mentions to Darcy in this chapter by Googling "The Understudied Female Sexual Predator." I was not expecting the way this chapter would turn out. I know where things are going with G.G., but quick poll question, are you okay with there being no Lydia (and perhaps not any other Bennet sisters besides Jane, Elizabeth and possibly Mary), because this G.G. is Lydia-like enough on her own? Also, any guesses as to what G.G. is up to?

8.

Ms. Berry's first words when she saw me the next day for my counseling appointment were, "Oh Bill, what happened to you?" She extended her mahogany hand with its lighter palm toward my face, but did not actually touch me.

In the interim from Bingley's punch to my jaw, what had at first looked like nothing too bad, had swelled up. By Sunday evening it had hurt a lot worse, and I was only able to handle soups and soft food as it had hurt to chew; it also hurt to a lesser extent when I talked. Amazingly, I had slept alright on Sunday night after taking ibuprofen; perhaps given my tiredness from my previous tormented sleep that was not so surprising.

On Monday morning when I got up, I knew right away in looking at my face that I couldn't go to work that day, so had done what I could from home instead. However, given all that had happened was not about to cancel on Ms. Berry. I needed her help to process everything.

"I took a punch. That is part of what I want to talk to you about today."

As her infuser puffed away, spreading its soothing scents, I took a deep breath and then related what had happened over the weekend. I covered the phone call with Bingley and then Caroline, how I had reacted, about how lunch had gone and what had caused Bingley to punch me.

That came all out rather quickly, but then I got more introspective. I explained, "When Bingley talked about me taking advantage of Caroline, it was about using her feelings about me against her to get her into bed, something in the order of manipulation, rather than me doing anything to her against her will. When I told him about what really happened, I used the same words, that she had taken advantage of me, but explained what they meant in my case, even if I never used the 'r' word. He got so angry, calling me a liar and comparing me to George Wickham.

"I guess I understand that Bingley was wholly unprepared to hear the truth about his sister, or to recognize that it was the truth when he heard it, but I could have taken all that better if he did not compare me to a child molester afterwards. I guess I thought our friendship was more important to him than it was. It makes sense, I guess, that it meant more to me than him.

"Bingley never met a stranger, makes friends so easily, but we have spent a lot of time together over the years. I . . . I am awkward and off-putting sometimes. As far as close friends go, it was always pretty much my cousin, Rick, and then in college, Bingley."

I stopped speaking then and looked over at Ms. Berry. Today she was wearing a black cardigan sweater (it was a little cold in the office), over a flowing purple dress. Her legs were crossed, her hands were overlapping each other on her raised knee and she was looking at me intently. I waited to hear what my therapist would say.

Of course, rather than give me an opinion, she turned it back on me. "Bill, I hear some regret and sadness in your voice about the potential loss of a long-standing friend, but otherwise how do you feel about the whole thing? If you could erase what happened yesterday, would you?"

I looked down on my pants, jeans since I had not been to work that day, and spotted a slight stain near my right knee (maybe a coffee droplet?) that I had not seen before. I scratched at it as I thought.

"Well, while I would have preferred not to take a punch and get my head whacked, too, on the floor (and maybe I could have prevented that if I knew it was coming), I'm glad I told Bingley what happened, even given how he reacted. I feel . . . " I searched for an appropriate word, "I don't know if 'relieved' is quite right, but I had it in my mind that Bingley might be able to prevent Caroline from doing this to someone else, and it had bothered me that he was walking around in ignorance. Also, this was such a big thing that if I hadn't ever told him, there would have been this huge chasm between us, which would have caused a strain, at least on my part. I don't like pretending with someone."

I looked up at Ms. Berry then, searching for approval perhaps. Her face was relaxed, her warm brown eyes soft, and she was gently nodding.

"So, no. I would not erase it, even if I wish it had ended differently."

Ms. Berry uncrossed her legs and then leaned forward toward me a little before she said, earnestly, "It seems to me, that yesterday, you took some of your power back."

"Yes. I suppose that's true," I acknowledged. "By telling him what happened, I did not let Caroline's big lie stand unchallenged. Is it wrong, though, that I am not at all ready to confront her about what she did, never want to even be in the same room with her again?"

"No, not at all. And I doubt from everything you have told me that she would ever be open to seeing and acknowledging what she did was wrong. I am certainly not going to try and diagnose someone I have never met, but it sounds like she makes life all about her, what benefits her, rather than giving more than lip service to the feelings of others, is happy enough to manipulate, to make herself the victim to garner sympathy and gain allies when it suits her.

"Don't make the mistake of imagining that she did not fully understand what she was doing in telling her own version of what happened when you were no longer around to potentially contradict her. No, it is not wrong to want to stay away from her. I wouldn't want to be anywhere near someone like that, either."

I felt myself relax in hearing Ms. Berry's response and then decided to get her take on something else. "It almost surprises me how Chuck Bingley just believed her over me, given their history. Caroline hasn't always exactly been a kind sister to him. He's forgiven her for a lot over the years."

"That doesn't surprise me at all," Ms. Berry replied. "He loves and cares about her, like a normal human being would about his sister. I think she is playing by a whole other set of rules, and knows how to play him like a fiddle, uses his caring against him, likely sprinkles in apologies when needed, says the right things without meaning any of it, knows all his weaknesses and how to best manipulate him. But again, this is just supposition, not knowing her personally."

Ms. Berry glanced at the clock then and said, "We just have ten more minutes. Is there anything else you needed to talk about? I know you've been considering whether to bring G.G. back for the summer."

I recalled then my list of pros and cons that I had left at home. "Can we do that next time instead?"

"Of course. From what I recall, you still have some time to make that decision."

"There is one other thing on my mind. Partly why I told Chuck was in the hope that he could stop his sister from doing something like this again. Do you think I should have, perhaps still should, report what Caroline did to the police? I've been thinking that if there was something on her, even though they wouldn't do anything, that it might help the next guy, if there is one, out. I know that nothing would happen from it regarding what she did to me. Do I have a moral responsibility to do that?"

As I suspected she would, Ms. Berry turned it back on me. "That's something only you can answer for yourself. You could go to the police station in the city (or county if it is unincorporated) where it happened and fill out a report. Then that particular jurisdiction would have a record. Hopefully whomever you would deal with, would be very professional about it, but then that would probably be the end of it.

"You see, unless this Caroline Bingley happened to commit the same crime in the same jurisdiction, and that person reported it, and whatever police officer was handling it took it seriously enough to see if any other reports had been filed against her, it wouldn't have any impact. Let's say she did to this to another man. It is pretty unlikely that he would report it. Statistics vary, but less than a third of rapes are reported, fewer than one in ten male-on-male rapes is reported, and of course there is a lot less data on female-on-male rape.

"I did some research after you first told me what happened and came across an interesting article for lay readers that I have been meaning to give you. You really aren't as alone as you think. I'll fetch you a copy from my files just after this session.

"But let's get back to the efficacy of reporting this. Let's put the low rate of the likelihood that another male victim would report aside, assume that you report what happened and a subsequent victim does, too. Those two reports will not be potentially compared unless you both report in the same jurisdiction. Unlike an arrest record, which is a public record, or a conviction record which all law enforcement across the state would have access to, police reports just stay in that single jurisdiction and are not routinely shared with other law enforcement entities. The United States just does it that way. I think other countries handle that differently, perhaps."

I had known this, but hadn't really thought it through or how it applied to me. "That isn't good."

"I agree, but that's how it is," Ms. Berry replied firmly. "Let me ask you, you said it happened on vacation, in a house her brother was renting. Is Caroline likely to be spending any substantive amount of time in that jurisdiction again?"

I thought about it. "It was in Meryton, which I believe is unincorporated as it is a pretty small town. That is where Bingley met his fiancee, Jane, but he doesn't normally live there, he was just temporarily renting a vacation home. I know they aren't planning on living there, after, and the wedding isn't being held there, either. Caroline was always complaining about how boring Maryton was, so I doubt she'll be back there without good reason."

I considered everything Ms. Berry had told me. "So you don't think there is a point in me reporting it?"

"That is a question only you can answer, for yourself. If it makes you feel better, if it empowers you, I am all for it. But realistically, it is unlikely to have the impact you are hoping for, that it might help a potential, subsequent victim.

"You know, if you are going to report something, you could report Mr. Bingley hitting you. That's a physical assault and it isn't okay."

"Nah, I don't want to do that," I responded, even as became more aware of the aching pain in my jaw that I had been trying to ignore. I considered whether my ibuprofen was wearing off and then remembered I had taken it with lunch, so I couldn't have another dose for at least an hour.

"I know it isn't a legal excuse anymore, but really how can I blame him for reacting that way over my 'fighting words'? Bingley didn't mean it, is normally not a violent person at all, and I bet his hand is hurting right now at least as much as my jaw. That's enough."

"Have you had it seen?" Ms. Berry asked. "The swelling to your face seems significant enough that an X-ray, CAT-scan or something else might be in order."

"No, but I doubt it is anything serious. It is not like Bingley is a professional boxer or something."

"Still, people can hit harder than you would think when they are angry. I would advise you to have it looked at, now when it is early enough in the day that you don't have to go to an ER. You might need some prescription pain meds at least."

"I'll consider it," I replied, even though I had no intention of having it seen. I didn't really want to explain to some stranger how I had gotten hurt.

As had been planned, I drove from counseling to go see Rick as we had made plans that evening. Rick took one look at my face when I arrived at his place and said "Darcy, your face is a mess. It looks worse than when I saw you last. Have you been to the doctor yet?"

I recalled telling him I planned to do just that before he left my place Saturday evening. When I shook my head "no" he grabbed me by the arm and marched me back out the way I had come and to his car.

"Get in the car, and then you can pick, urgent care or the ER."

"Urgent care," I replied. I never went to an actual hospital if I could avoid it. There were too many memories that associated hospitals and my parents' deaths. It wasn't a flat out phobia, but a strong aversion.

Rick drove and it was just past six when we arrived at an urgent care that had a lab and diagnostics attached. I checked in and then we waited. There were a couple of coughing kids with their dad (fortunately on the other end of the waiting room), an older woman with her arm wrapped in gauze and a younger woman whom I could not see anything obviously needing a doctor's attention. I wondered if the older woman needed stitches or perhaps had a bad burn, and what invisible condition the other woman had. They were all seen before me, as were a couple of others that came after me.

An hour and a half later, I had been weighted, measured, had my blood pressure taken, and been questioned about what had happened. I kept my answer short to that, saying merely "Yesterday, a friend got mad at me and punched me; he hit hard enough that I hit my head on the floor."

I spent another half an hour in the exam room alone, waiting for the doctor. During that time I read all the signs posted on the wall. This included a picture sign of a cartoon cell phone with the red circle and diagonal slash that signals "not allowed" with the order "Turn off your cell phones now." That one I wasn't going to follow, although I did turn my phone to vibrate.

There was also a more disturbing sign with a list: "Itching? Burning? Sores? Discharge? Discoloration? Pain when peeing? Get an STD test today." Of course that made me think of what Caroline had done to me and how glad I was that I had worn a condom. Still, I pondered whether I should get an STD test, just in case.

Finally, the doctor came in and introduced herself before getting down to the plan. Dr. Sharma looked too young to be a doctor but attempting to conceal that fact by having her hair pulled back in a bun and wearing black framed glasses.

I was sent over to diagnostics to get an x-ray of my jaw and a CT of my head, even though the doctor said it was rather late to worry about a possible concussion and brain bleed. Diagnostics was just getting ready to close up, but the tech agreed to scan me so I didn't have to get sent over to the hospital instead.

Although this urgent care was supposed to close at 8:30 pm, at 9:10 I was still waiting back in the first exam room for Dr. Sharma to come back and tell me if there was anything wrong with me besides the bruising, when my phone vibrated. I pulled the phone out of my back pocket and rather than seeing Rick's name and number flash on the screen (for that was whom I expected to call, asking about what was going on), it was a longer, foreign number.

The country code looked familiar, though the name of her school hadn't flashed up, so I answered right away. I had barely gotten out a "Hello," when a woman with an English accent burst out "Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes?"

"I have some bad news, I am afraid. Miss Darcy has gone missing. One of the girls woke up and found her gone."

"What?" I roared forcefully, immediately regretting my vigorous response for it made my jaw hurt worse.

Of course it was at that moment that I heard a knock on the door and Dr. Sharma walked in. She tapped at the "No cell phones allowed sign" and gave me a look when I did not say goodbye and put my phone away.

"Hold on," I said to the caller.

"Hang up and call them back later," Dr. Sharma said, crossing her arms in her white lab coat. "We've got a no cell phone policy for a reason and right now you are wasting my time. You're my last patient and I want to get home!" She said the last a bit more petulantly, with her tone reminding me of G.G.

"This is an emergency," I told Dr. Sharma. "Come back later." Then I turned my back to her.

I really didn't care what her response would be. I would have left right then if she had tried to deny me, and perhaps she could see that in my eyes, for her response was measured.

"What I have to tell you is important, too," the doctor complained but then she added more pleasantly, "but it will keep for a bit." Then Dr. Sharma did walk out and close the door.

"What happened?" I asked the caller and then rather than waiting for an explanation complained, "We are paying a lot for you to keep her safe. Who is this, anyway?"

"I'm her therapist, Mrs. Annesley. I should have said that before. She was accounted for at lights out and they are allowed to use the loo at night. The property is being searched and all the young women are being questioned. The police have also been contacted. I am hopeful we will find her quickly.

"We have reason to believe Miss Darcy stole a phone. Hopefully, she is just hiding out somewhere using it."

"She has a phone? A phone! I thought they were never to have any access to cell phones whatsoever."

"That is the policy, and the staff's phones are all password protected, but it seems that one of the girls (who had been doing quite well, who had earned a weekend visit with her family), brought it in."

I tugged at my hair, using the pain to ground me. I started to clench my jaw but that hurt way too much. "Don't you search them?"

"We do, but not like would be done in a prison. She got it past us somehow, that is if another young woman's word is to be believed."

"Please tell me that G.G. doesn't have money or her passport and that she can't get out of the country." I was desperate for any positive news.

"She doesn't have money or her passport, but I won't lie to you. That doesn't mean she might not find a way to leave. If that's what she wants . . . where there's a will, there's a way and Miss Darcy is a very strong-willed individual, who has been very clear in telling us all that she is right and we are wrong."

"I'm coming out there!" I declared, already thinking about how long it might take to get my uncle's private plane arranged or whether it would be better to get a commercial flight to England instead.

"You'd be welcome to come, of course, but I am hopefully she will turn up before you would have even arrived. They usually do."

"You've had kids just leave before? That wasn't on your brochures."

"It's been five years since anyone made it off the grounds," she rejoined, "none since our new security system. Oh, that video is being reviewed now, too, but the alarms did not sound. I suppose I should have mentioned, it has been storming most of the night and the power was off for a few minutes, but the security systems came back up right away. It is likely only this confluence of events that has kept her from being caught sooner."

"You should have generators, this shouldn't happen!"

"No system is ever fool proof," Mrs. Annesley replied. "But the power was only off for ten minutes or so."

Something occurred to me then. "Has anyone checked the stables? She likes to ride, hell it is about the only thing she has written me about."

"Yes, someone should be out there now. If I find out something more, are you okay with me calling while it is night for you?"

"Of course. It's not like I'll be able to sleep at all tonight."

"Very well, then. I'm to call Mr. Fitzwilliam next. Mr Darcy, please try not to worry. I will call you right away with any updates, but if there's nothing new it won't be until evening here as much of my day will be filled with the usual sessions and additionally having to speak with the other young women. Naturally, many of them are distressed and worried about Miss Darcy."

I wanted to yell and rage, but really I felt worn out and sad. "Please do keep me updated."

We had a few more exchanges and then I put the phone away. Naturally, Dr. Sharma was not quick about returning. I opened the door and left it open and a few minutes later she came in with her laptop.

"Mr. Darcy, do I have your undivided attention now? The radiologist hasn't read your scans yet, but it's clear enough to me from looking at the x-ray and CT that your jaw is broken."