"Do you truly think I should kiss you?" Eyelashes flipping, Elizabeth opened her eyes and stared at the gentleman's in confusion. Blushing a bit she nodded. Therefore he brushed his lips against hers and grabbing her by the waist, he pulled her against his body. "There. This is the first lesson. In two or three more, I shall make a woman of you."

Rosings Park, A month before.

Mr Collins, his newly wedded wife and her best friend were sitting in the French parlour at Rosings Park. Collins' noble patroness, Lady Catherine De Bourgh, had felt suddenly indisposed and their visit had been abruptly called off. Still, the faithful parson had decided to wait in the French parlour, should the great Lady's daughter, Anne De Bourgh, chuse to come downstairs to speak with his wife, her sole entertainment.

"You must wait here, my love. Miss De Bourgh might change her mind and come down to speak to you. Meantime, I shall go to the parsonage to entertain your excellent guests and come for you before tea time." He sent an affectionate look towards Mrs Collins' friend.

Mrs Collins shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The idea to spend the core of the day in Anne De Bourgh's company while her sister and best friends were calling for the first time since her nuptial a month ago was anything but appealing, but to spend it in absolute idleness all alone would be intolerable.

"May I stay, Mr Collins? I should not like to lose the opportunity to have a look at the beautiful sights at Rosings. Everything seems to be just as you have told us, countless times!" said Mrs Collins' friend in noticing her uneasiness.

"Of course, dear lady. You may stay with Mrs Collins." Then turning to his wife he said, " Would you like that, my sweet?"

"Aye, sir. I am most pleased. I thank you." She tried to use the same condescending tone she had so often heard her husband use with his superiors, and thought that perchance if she imitated him, he might be more inclined to please her. Not that she considered him her superior, or that she would need to persuade him into pleasing her in everything. Not at all. She would be content to be left on her own, even if it was only to entertain the capricious Miss De Bourgh as long as she was given something to do along with the task. Her good friend's company made the whole affair delightful.

Ever since Mr Collins had arrived back at Hunsford with his new wife, Mrs Collins had become Anne De Bourgh's unpaid little pet. For Mrs Collins and her friend were well bred young ladies from Hertfordshire, full of life and health, qualities absolutely non existent in the sickly thirty-year-old lady whose whimsicalities and anxieties had deprived her of the willing company of friends or suitors and could only count on the company of those who were paid for, or, as in Mrs Collins's case, were compelled through shear gratitude for her mother's favours.

Miss De Bourgh, in truth, did not like to be in anyone's company, regardless of the lively spirits. She was a timid creature and absolutely non gregarious. In that she was very much like her cousin Darcy. Only in that, for Fitzwilliam Edward Darcy was, above all, healthy and extremely good looking, but nonetheless proud and haughty. Miss De Bourgh was nothing of the kind. Her timidity stemmed on lack of self-esteem to insurmountable proportions. An ugly duckling, she was not exactly the picture of health. Albeit she had poor prospect of life, Anne Marie De Bourgh, was, to many, the future Mistress of Rosings and Pemberley, heir to title, money and heritage. Even so, Miss De Bourgh would prefer her sombre bedchamber to a ball room full of joy.

When she was apprised of Mr and Mrs Collins's presence at Rosings, she had given instructions to tell the callers that she was tired and would only descend after noon time. If she knew the parson, he would insist in seeing her, so she locked herself in her apartment and refused to receive them.

Not long before breakfasting in her apartment Miss De Bourgh inquired after her cousin.

"Do you know if Mr Darcy has arrived, Dorothy?"

"Aye, Miss Anne. Both Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived very late yesterday, Madam. But neither have been seen up yet."

"I thank you, Dorothy. Pray, come and tell me at once when Mr Darcy is seen downstairs."

"Aye, Miss."

"And Dorothy? "

"Aye, Miss."

"Has Mr and Mrs Collins left?"

"Mr Collins left early this morning. Mrs Collins is still here, Madam. She and another lady are waiting for you in the French parlour, in case you wished to see her."

"Will you tell her that I am not to see her today? Nor I am seeing her the rest of the week. Mr Darcy is here now. I shall be sufficiently entertained."

"Very well, Madam."

The maid servant quitted the bedchamber and hurriedly went in search for the parson's wife. In lieu, she found Colonel Fitzwilliam, standing erect in the French parlour looking intently out into the garden.

"I beg your pardon, sir. I thought Mrs Collins would be here."

"Mrs Collins? Would that be that lady over there?" he pointed at Charlotte who was standing by the young figure of a girlish lady , whose back was all that was offered to them.

"Indeed, sir. That must be her. I thank you."

"Dorothy. Is this young lady the parson's wife?"

"Aye, sir. I believe she is."

"What do you want her for?"

"I have a message for her, sir. Miss Anne says she can be dismissed."

"Dismissed?"

"Aye, sir. She says she is not coming downstairs today."

"She is not?"

"Nay sir."

"Very well. I shall go and tell Mrs Collins, myself. You can go now."

At long last someone worth talking to in this miserable place. I hope her friend is as amiable as she looks attractive.

Therefore, with a quick pace, the colonel approached the ladies. On arriving to their spot, however, he noticed Charlotte was leaving. He then resolved to talk to the younger lady, who was absentmindedly admiring the flowers in the garden.

"Good morning."

A bit startled, Elizabeth turned around. She was surrounded by a bed of red roses, and they made a most lovely background setting for her flushed complexion in the heat of the summer sun. Beautiful chestnut curls peeked from under her bonnet, making the whole picture of her face an enticing invitation for the colonel's eyes.

"Good morning, sir," she answered quickly. She immediately recognised her interlocutor as Miss De Bourgh's cousin, for though they had never been introduced, she had been told about him countless times by Mr Collins and knew he was expected to visit with Mr Darcy at Rosings. "You must be..."

"Colonel Fitzwilliam. Delighted to make your acquaintance, Madam."

She made a short courtesy and smiled. "I am ..."

"The most beautiful lady I have had the pleasure to make the acquaintance in a good decade," replied he gallantly.

Elizabeth smiled and blushed.

" I am delighted to make your acquaintance at last, sir."

"At last, madam?"

"Yes. I have heard of you many times."

"I am sorry about that. I can readily believe that reports may vary greatly depending on the person who bestows it. I wish that you were not to sketch my character without making sure it is of my likeness," he said in jest.

"Oh you must not worry. There is no reason for you to fear that the performance will not reflect any credit on either, Colonel"

"Pray, I hope you will not object in calling me Richard. All my old acquaintances call me by my Christian name, and since you have heard from me since long..."

"Very, well," she answered merrily. " Then, you must call me Elizabeth."

"Are you originally from Kent, Elizabeth?"

" No, I am not, Richard. I am from Hertfordshire."

"Is that not where Meryton lies?"

"Indeed, sir. My father's home is not far from there. Have you been in that village yourself?"

"No, but my cousin has. Are you acquainted with my cousin, Mr Darcy? I believe he has mentioned he was acquainted with a lady called Elizabeth Bennet, from Hertfordshire."

Elizabeth looked a bit puzzled. Mr Darcy has made mention of me? "Indeed. I am the very one. I do know him, sir, but I fear his opinion of me is not a very good one. He and I are not the best of friends."

"Oh. This is quite a surprise! Darcy has done nothing but talk praise of you."

"Oh! That I refuse to believe. He is my most severe critic."

"I assure you! And I can see he has not been exaggerating! I am sure your little misunderstanding is nothing of consequence! I hope we shall see you frequently at Rosings. I'm fond of lively conversation."

"This you do not find at Rosings Park?"

"My aunt does talk a great deal, but seldom requires a response. Darcy speaks hardly a word when he comes into Kent, though he's lively in other places. Nobody plays, nobody sings. I believe you play and sing?"

"A little, and very ill. I wouldn't wish to excite your anticipation."

" I'm sure you're too modest. Any relief would be profoundly welcome."

"I shall be honoured to sing for you one of these days, Colonel."

"That would be lovely, Madam." He then looked behind from his shoulder and flashing her a dazzling smile thus invited her. " 'Tis a lovely morning. Since you are already here ... Would you like to take a turn in the garden? I was about to go on my yearly inspection."

"I thank you. You are very kind. But I am afraid I will have to decline your offer. I cannot go too far from the house... My friend has gone to the parsonage for our needle works...Miss De Bourgh might..."

"Oh! My cousin Anne has sent word she is not coming downstairs today. We can walk the path towards the parsonage and catch up with your friend. So you see? You are free to do as you chuse."

"Oh. Well then. I shall be delighted to go with you, Richard." he offered her his arm and she dipped her hand in the small crook of his arm. The walked contentedly around the main garden and talked about all sort of things. Soon they discovered they had many things in common.

"Do you often walk hither?" asked she.

"I generally tour the park once or twice every year and usually I close it with a visit at the parsonage. I am fonder to riding than walking, I confess."

"So you come to Rosings often?"

"I am at Darcy's disposal. I travel with him and he arranges the business as he pleases."

Elizabeth chuckled. " And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least great pleasure in the power of choice. I do not know anybody who seems to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr Darcy." "You seem to know him very well!" "Oh not very well! Sufficient to comprehend his tendency to self gratification."

Colonel Fitzwilliam eyed her suspiciously. A man of the world, he knew a lady's disposition to think ill of a man who had done some wrong to them. Those words surely stemmed from a bitter heart. What had Darcy done to the girl? She was obviously angry with him, which led the colonel to suspect that she might be or have been attached to Darcy.

"He likes to have his own way very well," replied the colonel. "But we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it than many others, because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speak feelingly. A younger son of an earl, you know, must be inured to self denial and dependence."

"Denial and dependence, sir? What do you mean? You do not look in need or want of anything, sir. Now, seriously, what have you ever known of self denial and dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going wherever you chose , or procuring anything you had a fancy for?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. This lady was impertinence itself in large doses. But he liked her. "You give your opinion very decidedly for so young a person! But I can take your offensive. You are right. Perhaps I cannot say that I have experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greater weight, I may suffer from want of money."

" In my opinion a younger son of a rich man as an earl has little if not no hardships."

"You are mistaken, Madam. I have suffered many."

"Which, if I am not too impertinent to ask, were those?"

"Younger sons cannot marry where they like."

She stopt and was pensive for a moment. Then she flashed him a sheepish smiled and said "Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very often do."

He could not avoid laughing. She was so direct and fearless in her responses, Fitzwilliam soon found himself trapped in her lively eyes and witty conversation.

"Not me. Nothing but the deepest love will induce me to matrimony."

"Are you ready to forget the many advantages that your connections afford you for the love of a woman?"

"I concede that our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not many in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to money."

Sending a meaningful look at his clothes, Elizabeth answered cheekily: "I can imagine, sir. And pray, what is the usual price of an earl's younger son?"

"Are you thinking in making an offer, Madam?"

"Oh, no Colonel. Even if I were free to do so, my father is in no way in position to contribute more than a thousand for any of his daughters. I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds, unless the elder brother is very sickly."

Colonel Fitzwilliam coloured. "I wish, Madam ... I wish I could merely find a lady who would not mind the life of a soldier's wife. If she can offer unrelenting love and loyalty and I could offer her the same in return, no dowry could replace that."

Elizabeth smiled. Those were pleasing words, indeed. She felt not a little embarrassed for the implications of her speech and dropped the subject. To interrupt a subject that might make him fancy her affected her with what had passed, she soon afterwards said,

"I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of having somebody at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure a lasting convenience of that kind. But perhaps, his sister does as well for the present, and she is under his sole care, he may do what he likes with her."

"No," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, "That is an advantage which he must divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy."

"Are you indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you make? Does your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes difficult to manage, and if she has the true Darcy spirit, she may like to have her own way."

Colonel Fitzwilliam went intriguingly silent and pale. Elizabeth quickly discerned she had hit right on target. Was Miss Darcy the kind of girl to give her guardians any uneasiness? Her curiosity was piqued.

"Tell me, what sort of girl is Miss Darcy?"

"She is not seventeen. A bit shy. She is affectionate and pleasing, and very fond of me. I've devoted hours to her amusement, and I am sure she is growing very much like her brother. Very..."

"Proud?"

There we go again. She seems pretty interested in discussing my cousin's character. "I was going to say honourable,"

"I wish I could call him at least amiable, but I cannot."

"Oh, Darcy is not wholly bad when he is amongst his family and friends. He and his sister are simply very shy. But when they are at ease they are really amiable and agreeable. Darcy can be even congenial ..."

(gasp) "I have never seen him thus!"

"You seem to have a strong dislike for my cousin. Pray, tell me. What has arisen such prejudice?"

"Prejudice, sir?"

"Indeed. You sound even bitter. You're careful, aren't you, in allowing resentment to be created?"

"I am." she answered rather put out.

"And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?"

" I hope not. May I ask to what these questions tend?"

"I am surprised a person that has always been so well admired by Darcy would have such low opinion of him."

"I have never desired his good opinion, and he has certainly bestowed it most unwillingly."

"Well. I am indeed surprised!"

"Why should you be? I always believe in first impressions and although I have tried once to make out his character, I did not like what I found out."

"You did not? Pray, tell me. What was your success?"

"I didn't get on at all. I heard such different accounts of him as to puzzle exceedingly."

"Then you should consider get to know him better. I assure you there is no other of my acquaintance superior to his mind and judgement. I concur with you he is not that sociable sort of person one can easily converse with at a ballroom. But he is most amiable among his close acquaintances and the best of friends."

"So I have heard."

"Perhaps he can improve in your opinion during the duration of the holidays?"

"Maybe, although I sincerely doubt it. It is just as he said once 'My good opinion once lost, it is lost for ever.'"

"Darcy said that?"

She nodded emphatically.

"We shall have to remedy that. Let us go back to the house. He is in there. I would like you to repeat this to his face and see how he defends himself!"

"I thank you, sir. But I would much rather return to the parsonage. My friend must be wondering of my whereabouts. Some other time perhaps. If you will excuse me."

"Of course."

"Good day, sir." She then ran off, in the direction of the parsonage. Colonel Fitzwilliam watched her figure disappear in the grove.

"I say, Darcy. How long is it since you saw Miss Elizabeth Bennet last?"

"Venice?"

"Bennet. With a "t" at the end."

"What sort of question is that?"

"One that requires your answering. Is that so difficult?"

"I left Hertfordshire in November, and I have not seen her or known of her ever since. Why d'you ask?"

"How would you like to see her?"

Mr Darcy's eyes twinkled and he unconsciously sat erect on the couch, his full attention on his cousin. "What do you mean?"

"She is here. I have just seen her in the gardens."

Mr Darcy rose from his seat and darted towards the exit.

"Hey, hey , hey. Not so hasty! She is already gone!"

"Gone? Is this some kind of joke, Fitzwilliam?"

"No, it is not. I did see her. I introduced myself to whom I thought it was the available parson's wife's friend, but turned out being your beloved lady."

"She is not my beloved lady," he corrected him.

"Oh, come on, Darcy. Do not think you can fool me so easily! Look at yourself! I merely mentioned her name and you leapt on your feet and rushed blindly on her quest. If she is not your beloved she will soon be!"

"Are you sure it was Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

"Aye. What kind of idiot do you think I am. I dare say she corresponds with your description, cousin. I must congratulate you on your good taste!"

"But you say she is gone? What was she doing at Rosings?"

"She is staying at Hunsford, at the parsonage. She must be friends with Mrs Collins. You know. The new parson's bride."

"Indeed." Darcy remained pensive for a moment, fighting a terrible impulse to run towards the parsonage.

Fitzwilliam could almost read his mind, Hence he spoke thusly."I am sorry, Darcy. It would be uncivil to call on the parsonage at this hour. Miss Elizabeth left Rosings gardens in a rush. I suppose it would not be advisable to call on her until later. Tomorrow may be. Pray, tell me. Will I wish you joy soon?"

"Will you not go and drown yourself?"

Fitzwilliam laughed. "You must know cousin, she is quite taken with you."

"Is she? How do you know? Did she mention me?

"Did she mention you? She hardly talked about anything else!"

"Oh yes, of course. You are teasing me again."

"Indeed I am not. However, she seemed to have grown a bit resentful towards your person. I wonder how you behaved among her friends, Darcy. She was pretty angry with you."

"Angry?"

"She said she and you were not the best of friends. That you were her severest critic, and that you were proud and not amiable. What did you do to her to deserve such fierce enemy?"

"She said as much?"

"She did. Yet she could not avoid making references to you, over and over. That can only mean one thing. You made quite an impression on her."

"So much for an impression!"

"Oh, you do not know ladies. If she were indifferent she would not be so eager to talk of you in this manner. Believe me, Darcy. This lady is quite taken with you. Only she does not know yet."

"Since when you have become so proficient in reading ladies' hearts?"

"By all means. There is no way I can be mistaken. She loves you. She could hardly say two words than she would inevitably return to the topic of your character or your family or your..."

"My..."

"Your elusive predisposition towards marriage... That spoke volumes of where her heart lies."

"That is exactly my point. I have every reason to think her mother has sent her after me for mercenary purposes."

"Her mother? What a notion! This is not sound, Darcy. You know it is not."

"Oh, but you don't know Mrs Bennet! The most ill bred woman I have been force to wait on in my entire life. She is capable of the unthinkable in order to ensure her dowry-deprived daughters with rich husbands. Even to endanger their lives. I must confess Miss Elizabeth did soon become an object of interest in my eyes. She is... uncommonly beautiful ... her figure is ... so pleasing and ... light."

Fitzwilliam chuckled. Indeed, he had noticed her figure, only he had not thought it pleasing and light, but nothing short than sensual and gorgeous.

"Her eyes. Have you noticed the beautiful expression of her eyes?"

"I have not," said Fitzwilliam exceedingly diverted with Darcy's uncommon demeanour. "Pray, what colour are they?" he said in mockery.

Darcy failed to notice his cousin's jest hence he answered thus, "Brown," he said almost in a sigh becoming visibly uncomfortable. " Dark brown. Most intelligent eyes."

"Intelligent?"

"Miss Elizabeth is incredibly intelligent. She is a challenge to my own brain."

"Impertinent she is."

"And that renders her even more appealing."

"You are quite smitten, Darcy."

"Indeed I am. That is why I was compelled to quit her company and I flee to London in November."

"You quitted* her company when you realised you were..."

"...in a real danger, cousin. Indeed I was. I could not think clearly. I even thought of ... but then I came into the intelligence of her mother's machinations. Eventually, I witnessed both eldest daughters, possibly forced by their mother, to encourage eligible men's attentions."

"Goodness, Darcy. That is positively despicable of them!"

"Shameful, inconceivable. Yet, even though I was aware of all this I could not avoid been helplessly drawn to those fine eyes! That is why I made up my mind, and left. Who would have thought I would ... that she would follow me."

"Follow you? Your conjecture is totally wrong!, I assure you. That young lady..."

"I did not mean that she did it purposely, for God's sake. But indeed she has followed me."

"I am all astonishment, Darcy. What are you going to do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

Mrs Collins was deeply pleased with her family and best friends calling on her. She was not at all reconciled with her new appellation (her reluctance to wear the marriage cap had caused great astonishment and not little gossip) and having them around her in her new home made her feel she was still single, safe at home in Hertfordshire, her spirit rising with the young voices of the ladies in waiting.

Her marriage vows unfulfilled, her bedchamber safely locking her husband away, she wondered what her life would have been had she been able to marry for love and not for the convenience of her family. For she had made it quite clear, that much as she consented in entering into the wedlock with the abhorrent parson, she would never, ever, allow him into her bed.

Mr Collins, in all his proud stupidity, thinking such prerogative stemmed from the general nervousness and innocence of his would be bride, accepted the preposterous condition. After a whole month of celibate matrimony, however, he was beginning to lose patience.

Fortunately, the visit of her family and friends afforded the reluctant bride with enough distraction. Mr Collins, in turn, took every opportunity to express his concern as regards his bride's chaste disposition to her father. The four ladies sat comfortably at Mrs Collins's small parlour while her husband and her father took the longest turns in the gardens. Here, leading the way through every walk and cross walk, and scarcely allowing the older man an interval to utter the praises he asked for, Mr Collins proudly paraded while every view was pointed out with a minuteness which left beauty entirely behind, entwined with fervent comments on the necessity for the old man to call his daughter to reason. Mrs Collins and her female guests, meanwhile, spent the rest of the afternoon and evening, chiefly talking over Hertfordshire news and then telling again what had already been written.

Since the visits to Rosing were thus cut off, Mrs Collins had plenty of time at her leisure. This of course was no evil to her, and upon the whole she spent her time comfortably enough, since her husband still walked to the mansion on daily basis and spent there the core of the day. The rest of his time was passed by him either at work in the garden, or reading or writing, and looking out of the window in his own book-room, which fronted the road. The room in which the ladies sat was backwards but as the weather was so fine, they had often great enjoyment out of the door.

Both Elizabeth and Jane were having a wonderful time with their good friends while Maria kept the elder girls quite diverted with her rather exuberant views of the intriguing members of Rosing family.

About the middle of the next day, as Elizabeth was in her room, getting ready for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to speak the whole house in confusion; and after listening a moment, she heard somebody running upstairs in a violent hurry, and calling loudly after her. She opened the door and met Maria in the landingplace, who breathless with agitation, cried out.

"Oh, my dear Eliza! Pray, make haste and come into the dining room, for there is a phaeton with two distinguished ladies at the door."

Elizabeth followed her friend, and they were in turned joined by both Charlotte and Jane, who ran into the dinning room fronting the lane. Indeed, there were two ladies stopping in a low phaeton at the garden gate and Mr Collins was talking to them. They saw a maidservant being sent to the house. She had a word for Mrs Collins, but confronted with the four ladies, the maidservant seemed unsure who was who. Hence, she spoke to all of them,

"Mrs Collins. My mistress wishes you to know that she will be too busy to receive you at Rosings for the rest of the month until a week past Easters."

"I thank you," was Mrs Collins succinct answer, and the maidservant, having nothing further to say, was immediately gone.

"And is this all?" cried Maria. "Did she need to come down all the way and not bother to walk to the house to talk to you?"

"She is abominably rude to send a servant instead of talking to you personally," added Jane. "Why does she not come in?"

"She hardly ever does," was Mrs Collins answer.

"Is the other lady her mother?"

"No. That is Mrs Jenkinson, who lives with them. The younger is Miss De Bourgh of course."

"Only look at her." Maria exclaimed. "She looks so thin and small!"

"She also looks sick and cross," said Charlotte.

"I like her appearance," said Elizabeth, smiling mischievously. "She will do for him very well."

"Him?" asked Charlotte.

"Mr Darcy," answered Jane smiling sheepishly. "It is widely said he is her intended."

" He is not!" exclaimed Maria.

"At least Mr Wickham says so. They will probably be engaged soon. I dare say she will make him a very proper wife."

"Poor Mr Darcy!" sighed Jane. "He surely deserves better than that!"

Having Darcy promised to visit with her the year before, Lady Catherine adhered to the idea that her nephew had finally accepted the universally acknowledged truth that a man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife, and took his visit as substantial evidence of his increasing attachment to Rosing Park. The next step was to secure said attachment to the future mistress of Rosings park. A daunting exertion.

Ever since their arrival, the two cousins have eagerly engaged themselves in as many pursuits as were available (not many, unfortunately, kept them outdoors with sufficient excuse, scarce society and the hunting season not yet started) But somehow, they managed to keep themselves rather busy and away from their unnerving cousin, the girls staying at the nearby parsonage offering enticing entertainment and invigorating sport (at least two of them were keen walkers).

More often than not, the young but sickly Anne would wonder about her favourite cousin whereabouts.

Where is Darcy? He should be somewhere in the library as usual, and yet he is nowhere to be found.

To her misfortune, both her cousins had found great diversion outside the library and billiards room. For Darcy, the alluring vision of Miss Bennet's glowing bosom (yes, ladies' bosoms did not perspire, but glowed, mind you) and flushed cheeks after her morning walk was much more inviting than any of Pope's master pieces, and the only games Mr Darcy could envision in Elizabeth's presence were not precisely "played" in a billiards room, but, indeed, in fancying himself thus entertained with the fair lady, he was provided with great distraction. Therefore, he would inevitably find, though poor, an excuse to walk in the direction of her path every single morning.

Unfortunately, Darcy seldom found the courage to provide her with company during her walks. Rather, he watched her delicious saunter amidst the trees and wilderness of the grove at a safe distance, either from his mount or from a secluded spot from which, ever so rarely, he would come out to greet her and exchange a brief conversation, before she inexorably would offer him an excuse and walk away.

But that left Darcy satisfied enough. The notion that he would invariably meet her, alone, in the grove, the intimacy of it all, made him feel that he was, in fact, wooing her with her consent. The exhilarating feelings that gripped his heart with every new encounter was his only dose of happiness that would suffice him until he saw her again in the company of others later that day.

How many times he had restrained the urging impulse to pounce on her and kiss those alluring lips while pinning her luscious body to one tree with his whole weight, unleashing quivering emotions for so long pent up within his foolish pride! How long he would be able to hold up these shameful feelings, he scarcely conceived.

Miss De Bourgh was growing increasingly concerned. The steps leading to her engagement being announced in the papers were more and more uncertain. Perchance her mother had been in the wrong. It must be so. Anne had envisioned a week full of Darcy's company and attention. Albeit her cousin's taciturn demeanour would scarcely become any source of amusement for her, his presence at Rosings had certainly provided her with the tantalising promise of a welcome change in her life. Darcy was the man who, to her mother's musings and her own fantasies, would make a woman of her; perchance a mother with some luck. And the moment had been, in Lady Catherine's own estimation, hastily making its arrival, even if heaving with the exertion, the time of her nuptial to her gorgeous cousin was finally approaching. Were it true, she could hardly wait for the moment to come.

For Darcy was a man of the world. And exceedingly handsome. Everywhere he went he soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and the report of superior understanding and excellency in judgement. To all this one should add he was most becomingly endowed with the most sensual pair of chestnut eyes, that simple pierce a woman with one look.

Needless to say, Anne was deeply enamoured of her cousin. Who of the fair sex would not be?

Elizabeth would invariably wake up earlier than the rest of the girls and left for the grove before anyone had descended for breakfast, to be able to enjoy her favourite walk. Every so often, she met Mr Darcy in her path. He was frequently riding his horse and on seeing her he would halt it, many a time looking rather confused. Elizabeth merely curtseyed, without saying a word. He, in turn, would purse his lips, gulp unconsciously and spur his horse on, most of the times looking hastily away.

What the source of his implacable hatred towards her was, Elizabeth could not discern. She was, of course, well aware of her sister's superiority in looks, but Elizabeth was perfectly conscious she was a repute beauty too, and she was proud to have known of many a fine gentleman's partiality towards her (pity none of them proposed). Yet, Mr Darcy had bluntly expressed his abhorrence to merely stand in front of her for a short reel at a dance ball. On those various occasions in which they had been thrown in mutual company, his comportment had been that of a gentleman, she reckoned. Still, his stony staring, she constantly felt upon her as to puzzle her exceedingly.

Yet, during her daily walks, many a time Mr Darcy would suddenly appear out of the blue from behind a bush in the grove , leaving the poor girl rather flabbergasted with surprise. On those occasions, he would talk briefly to her, and then, seemingly at a loss for words, remain silent. Elizabeth would then, curtsey politely and quit his company.

More often than not, Elizabeth met Colonel Fizwilliam either in the grove or in her path, sometimes on foot sometimes riding. But, unlike his cousin, he would consistently feel a duty to talk to her and spend the rest of his time in her company, entering into easy conversation directly with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly of London and Derbyshire, of travelling and his commission in Spain, of new books and music, that Elizabeth really looked forward for their serendipitous encounters.

But Mr Darcy, she never found good company, nor did she find him amiable in the least.

One morning, however, to the great surprise of the whole party, shortly after Mr Collins had returned from Rosing, the two cousins called on the ladies at the parsonage on their own accord.

"He must be in love with you, Jane, for Mr Darcy would never pay such a compliment on me!" exclaimed Mrs Collins.

"In Love? With Jane? Surely you do not mean it. Have you not said Mr Darcy has always admired Elizabeth, Charlotte?" asked Maria.

"I have. I have more than once caught him staring at you, Eliza. But you must have noticed of course!"

"He used to look at me only to find some blemish!" retorted the latter.

"And why do you think he might be in love with Jane, now?" asked an incredulous Maria.

"Since Jane is the most beautiful of us all, it is not a great difficult endeavour to suspect as much!"

Jane added politely to her naive young sister, "Maybe you are wrong."

Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had scarcely reached the door and their arrival announced by the door bell, when the phaeton that usually carried Miss De Bourgh was spotted just crossing the garden gate. Contrary to all expectations, the two gentlemen immediately stepped into the lounge and hastily made their entrance to the parsonage. They spied the phaeton through the window and from this position they spotted Mr Collins, who compleatly unaware of the gentlemen calling, rushed to attend her.

Colonel Fitzwilliam, who led the way, abandoned the window and greeted Elizabeth with great camaraderie while Mr Darcy, looking visibly discomfited, paid his compliments with his usual reserve to Charlotte, Jane and Maria, scarcely bowed to Elizabeth, but kept sending quick glances to the phaeton stopt outside, through the windowpane.

Was he trying to avoid Miss De Bourgh?

Elizabeth, endeavouring to hide her astonishment at Mr Darcy's strange demeanour, made an effort to change the tension, thus she politely introduced the Colonel to the girls.

"Delighted to make your acquaintance, Madam!" exclaimed he, smiling meaningfully to Jane.

"The pleasure is mine." smiled Jane. "My sister has been saying nothing but praises of you, Colonel."

"Richard. Pray, call me Richard. 'Colonel' just makes me feel too old."

Darcy rolled his eyes. His cousin's cheeky forwardness utterly embarrassed him.

"Will you not sit down?" invited Elizabeth.

"May I offer some refreshments?" inquired Charlotte.

"Would you care to have breakfast with us?" added Maria. "We have not had any yet."

"Oh no! I thank you," answered Fitzwilliam. "We have just both had breakfast." The food thus refused, Fitzwilliam accepted the offered seat. However, Mr Darcy remained on sentry duty, zealously watching his female cousin's activities at a distance.

Colonel Fitzwilliam soon entered conversation with the girls and his manners were very much admired by the Parsonage visitors, while his cousin, after having uttered a slight observation on the house and garden, and in noticing Miss De Bourgh's carriage abandoning the premises, sat for some time without speaking to anybody, though occasionally was caught staring at Elizabeth by this latter, who immediately averted her eyes.

Charlotte's words came back to Elizabeth's mind, her surprisingly accurate observations ringing in her ears. He certainly does look at me a great deal.

Eventually, after a brief visit, in which little of talking was done from the part of Mr Darcy, and a great deal of staring and peering through the window occurred, the two gentlemen went away. They seemed to have been waiting for Miss De Bourgh's carriage to disappear on the road before venturing out again.

On leaving the parsonage, Mr Darcy looked profoundly relieved and more at ease. Elizabeth could not help teasing him.

"What a pity you have missed Miss De Bourgh, Mr Darcy! Was it not her carriage here a few moments ago?" she said feigning innocence.

Mr Darcy blushed a little, his tension noticeable in the clenching of his jaws. But he smiled and managed a polite answer.

"Fitzwilliam and I had different plans other than visiting ladies' shops and the seamstress."

"I should assume, then, you will be unwilling to accompany your betrothed or your wife, for that matter, to such little outings?"

Darcy just loved Elizabeth's challenging conversation. Nothing would delight him more than having a tête à tête of sparkling verbal interchanges with her, regardless of the tone of the conversation. Hence, he quickly answered, "I must confess I have never given the matter much thought. I suppose a man in love is bound to make many a stupid thing for the sake of his lady. Since I am not such, I cannot tell."

"We will be delighted to accompany you, ladies, to go in any of such pursuits, though, I assure you. Will we not, Darcy?"

"You will, will you not?" said Darcy with impertinence.

"As a matter of fact we were thinking of walking into the village, later in the afternoon," said Maria enthusiastically.

"I shall be honoured to offer my company to you. Are you all going?"

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

"Yes!" 'Twas their perfectly isochronous answer.

"That is settled then," Richard's grin covered his face. "I will be collecting you in the afternoon.

And collected them he did. All of them. His cousin, reluctantly tagging along. After they walked into town and spent a whole afternoon in their company, the girls decided Colonel Fitzwilliam was very different from Mr Darcy and pronounced this latter as proud as he had shewed to have been in Hertfordshire. They were pretty much diverted by the colonel and grew extremely fond of him. They wished they could see more of him in the following weeks. To their mutual chagrin and profound pain, this would not happen so often.

Lady Catherine announced her party had been all invited to a ball to be held by the Grantleys, their neighbours. She was confident it would be the perfect occasion for Anne to be shewn in company of her would be suitor.

To secure Darcy's attentions to be concentrated solely on Anne, Lady Catherine understood she had to persuade Colonel Fitzwilliam to remain indoors. Hence, she had the following conversation with her nephew.

"Fitzwilliam. Must you inspect Rosings gardens every morning? Can you not stay indoors for a while? I am most displeased by your indifference for the feelings of others. Can you not see you are drawing your cousin along with you? Anne is getting increasingly upset!"

"Your Ladyship must forgive me. I have never asked my cousin Darcy to follow me. In any case I believe him old enough to ..."

"Yes, yes, yes. This is all very vexing. Indeed, you are drawing him along with you. This must be stopt! I will not have it!"

"Lady Catherine I..."

"You have said enough, young man. You have had your fair share of lesser society already, I am certain. I demand your staying within Rosings Park until the ball. And this is not a request. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Madam."

Why a man of Colonel Fitzwilliam's station, a man used to issue orders and charge on the enemy, a war hero, would so humbly submit to an old woman's whimsicalities, one cannot so easily infer. The truth was that Lady Catherine's influence not only stemmed in the whiteness of her hair but also in the brightness of her gold. Colonel Fitzwilliam knew there were great prospects in his becoming the heir of Rosing Park (much in the same fashion Mr Collins would, in time, inherit Longbourn), should Lady Catherine fail to marry Anne to Darcy(or any other gentleman for that matter).

For Richard Fitzwilliam had been Sir Lewis De Bourgh's favourite nephew, the son God had denied him. Upon his death, he remembered him in his will and left him a conditional legacy. Entailments through the male line were not thought necessary in Sir Lewis De Bourgh's Family. However, Anne should be wedded to receive the whole inheritance. If she remained out of the wedlock, Fitzwilliam became the heir of it all, while a comfortable living was assured for the unmarried daughter.

Hence, Colonel Fitzwilliam relented.

"'It might well rain the whole week, Darcy. I am afraid we are housebound until the ball."

"And that is because..."

"Apparently I am leading you into straying too far from Rosings. Pray tell me. When are you planning to let our aunt clearly know that you are not marring Anne? She seems to be expecting your proposal at any minute now."

"I refuse to discuss my private life with anyone. If she chuses to believe me partial to Anne, it is none of my business to persuade her otherwise. I have never done anything to inspire such expectations. There is nothing of my daily interaction with Anne that might have spurred any such feelings in her."

"You should tell all this to Aunt Catherine, Darcy. Not me."

"I shall not."

"Then, pray, tell me. Why do you not simply leave? What is it that keeps you here?"

Darcy sighed and shrugged.

The days passed much as the day before had done. Confined to the company of Anne and Lady Catherine, soon both cousins were bored to the excess. To Darcy's chagrin, Fitzwilliam's admonishing words became a shocking truth. Soon he became the object of Anne's undivided attention. He, however, suffered the distressing situation with quixotic pride.

Anne, tragically convinced that Darcy's staying indoors was a definite symptom of his growing partiality for her, sought his company at all hours. She became a rather grotesque shadow, emerging from the most preposterous places and when she was less wanted.

Once, Darcy was writing a letter to Georgiana, while Colonel Fitzwilliam was playing a solitary card game. Anne came into the small parlour and, standing erect behind Darcy, much in a Miss Bingley's manner, watched him write along. Her perpetual commendations, either on his handwriting, or in the evenness of his lines, or in the length of his letter, and the perfect unconcern with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and Fitzwilliam took great diversion in witnessing it.

"Oh, how delighted will Georgiana be in receiving your letter, Darcy. I wish one day you wrote such length to me!"

He made no answer.

"Pray, tell me. How do you contrive to write so evenly with that pen? Pray, allow me to mend it for you. I am remarkably good at it!"

"I thank you, Anne. But always mend my own."

She was silent for a moment, her brain in frantic search for a topic. In not finding any, she resumed her saying praises over Darcy's writing style.

"You write uncommonly fast."

This time Darcy raised his head and contemplated her, then blinked twice and opened his mouth so as to say something but then thought better of it. He had the daunting sensation he had already held this conversation sometime ago.

"Pray tell me. How many letters do you often write? They must be so many! How tedious it must be to be force to write to so many people!"

He said nothing.

"Pray, tell dear Georgiana I miss her immensely. And that I am delighted to know she is joining us for Easter!"

"I will."

"Oh, Look at this! This is simply perfect! Are all your capital letters so magnificently drawn? Pray, you must write a piece for me so that I can learn to copy these!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know. Perhaps you can copy a sonnet or a poem in your own handwriting! I would cherish it with all my heart!"

He grew red in the face and visibly disconcerted for such pledge from the part of his, up to then, distant cousin, he answered thus, "What you ask is no sacrifice. I shall be pleased to indulge you. Only that I am presently in the necessity to finish my letter. If you will excuse me." That said, he took his writing paper and quitted the room abruptly.

Fitzwilliam chuckled from his own spot. Whether he did so in response to Darcy's blunt withdrawal, or his table game, I leave the reader to decide.

One morning, a great change took place. The footman announced Mrs Collins and her friends. Lady Catherine attended to them in the small parlour but did not invite them to come into the presence of the gentlemen. However, after they had been dismissed, Colonel Fitzwilliam rushed to meet the visitors.

"You must excuse my aunt's uncivil comportment," he apologised.

The girls smiled.

"Pray tell me. To what do we have the honour of your visit?"

"Mr Collins has had a little accident. I came to apprise her Ladyship that he will not be able to come to her today." Elizabeth answered.

Fitzwilliam sent a quizzical look at her. Why was it that Elizabeth and not Charlotte answered to his question? But he, of course made no comments of it. Instead, he directed his next interjection to Mrs Collins herself and said,

"I am sorry to hear that. I hope he is not too ill."

Charlotte merely smiled, but it was Elizabeth that answered again. "Oh, it is nothing. He merely sprang his ankle while trying to mount a mule. I assure you he will be up again in no time." And then she added conspiratorially, "Unfortunately." All the girls giggled.

Fitzwilliam's puzzlement reached paramount proportions. Perhaps Mrs Collins is simply shy. He made an inner note to be more careful when addressing Mrs Collins. The last thing he wished to do was to make the young wife of the parson feel uncomfortable.

While they were thus entertained in amiable conversation, they spotted the open phaeton being drawn to the main door.

"It seems my aunt is planning to go out."

"So it seems," said Jane sending a sheepish smile to Richard. He caught her meaning directly. Thereupon, he walked with the ladies purposely out of the occupants of the phaeton's direct eye span, and made a point to show Jane and the rest of the ladies a new variety of roses that was being grown in the gardens. These were conveniently on the opposite extreme of the shrubbery behind the gazebo. In noticing that Lady Catherine's carriage disappeared behind the gates, Fitzwilliam sighed and with a big grin he thus invited the ladies.

"Will you not come in?"

They gladly accepted the invitation. Mr Darcy, after being apprised of the ladies' presence, promptly joined them, explaining with a stern demeanour that the three ladies of the house had gone in an errand that would have them in town until tea time. Fitzwilliam was delighted. Conditions could not be more conveniently settled had it all been planned. Blessed serendipity!

After refreshments were offered, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having promised to sing for him. She sat directly at the instrument and performed a song or two most beautifully.

Darcy stationed himself as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance. His position also afforded him a most admirable view of her exuberant bosom. His eyes would inevitably strayed thither with the constancy of the sun rising in the east. Elizabeth saw what he was doing and smiled inwardly. So serious, and yet, so naughty! Evidently he did not find her all that plain as she had suspected before. At the first convenient pause between one song and another, she turned on him with an arch smile, and said, teasingly,

"You mean to frighten me, Mr Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed though you might have heard much better performances. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me."

Tearing his eyes from her enticing décolletage, Mr Darcy's eyes abandoned the area of her stomacher and glanced at her fair features. He was confronted by the liveliness of her dark eyes. "I shall not say that you are mistaken," he replied, "because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own."

Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was standing next to Darcy, "Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a place I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr Darcy, it is very ungenerous of you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire, and , give me leave to say, very impolitic too, for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out as will shock your relation to hear."

"I am not afraid of you," said he smilingly, the sparkle of his eyes betraying his excitement. Her wit conversation made his young blood boil. With the rapidity of a wishing star, Darcy's façade was falling apart, and he... he was falling madly in love with her, again.

"Pray, let me hear what you have to accuse him of," cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. "I should like to know how he behaves among strangers."

"You shall hear then, but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seen him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was a ball. And at this ball what do you think he did? He danced only four dances! I am sorry to pain you, but so it was. He danced only four dances though gentlemen were scarce and, to my certain knowledge, more than one lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr Darcy, you cannot deny the fact."

"I had not at the time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own partner."

"True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ballroom. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers await your instructions."

"Perhaps," said Darcy," I should have judged better and sought an introduction; but I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers."

"Shall we ask your cousin the reason for this? said Elizabeth, still addressing the Colonel. "Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?" her question both spirited and witty.

"I can answer that question," said Fitzwilliam, "without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble."

"I certainly have not the talent that some people possess," said Darcy, very much enjoying his exchange with her, "of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns as I often see done."

"My fingers," said Elizabeth, "do not always give the right note in the masterly manner which I have seen many women's do. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault, because I would not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my own fingers as capable as any other's women's superior performance."

Darcy smiled and said. "You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you can think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers." This last sentence silenced Elizabeth. For those who had witnessed their interaction, it was pretty obvious that Mr Darcy was very much attracted to her.

"You will have a chance to make up for that Darcy, at the ball next week." Then turning to Jane who was sitting next to Charlotte and Maria a few steps from the pianoforte he inquired "By the way, Jane. May I be so bold to ask for the pleasure of the first two dances?" Fitzwilliam's cheeky usage of her Christian name both embarrassed and delighted Jane.

Hence, in the face of his request for a dance, Jane's countenance shone with sheer delight. "You may, sir."

Darcy frowned. He was not at all resolute to ask Elizabeth's hand for a dance, yet. Still, he could not make the same request because he was already compromised with Anne for the first two dances. Neither could he remain silent in the face of Fitzwilliam untimely request of Jane's hand.

"If you are not otherwise engaged I should very much like to partner you for the third and the fourth," he said almost in a whisper.

Both Elizabeth's and Jane's countenances blushed. Jane, in noticing her sister's embarrassment, and Elizabeth in compleat befuddlement after his petition. She intently looked both at Jane and Mr Darcy while making an effort to answer Darcy's request for a dance.

"Sir, I ... Why I... had not... I thank you. Yes."

When the ladies left the grand house, they , but Charlotte, had all been requested a dance.

" 'Tis so very vexing," complained Charlotte. "They could at least have asked out of politeness!"

"Indeed. 'Tis so very strange!" exclaimed Maria.

"Aye! The Colonel asked both Maria and Elizabeth, too. Why did he not ask me? Am I so abhorrent?"

"I can understand Mr Darcy's reticence, for he rarely dances unless he is in intimate terms with the lady." Commented Lizzy-

"Is he in intimate terms with you, Lizzy?" asked Charlotte in mockery.

"I suppose she has seen a great deal of him while she stayed at Netherfield looking after me," giggled Jane.

"He had seen a great deal of you too, Jane, for that matter. Yet, he only sought Elizabeth." they all laughed at Charlotte's shameful implication.

"I guess that settles it. He is still very much in love with you, Lizzy," sentenced Charlotte, laughing heartily. "What a notion! In love with me!"

"He looks at you a great deal," she added more serious, " he seeks your attention with wit conversation, I have noticed the gleam in his eyes when looking at you, you little hypocrite, he singles you out for a dance..."

"I have a perfect explanation for this," retorted Lizzy.

"What is it?"

"Mr Darcy does not want to raise any expectations in illegible ladies outside his own circle. Therefore, he reduces his attentions to those in the female lines which are either in his own circle or unavailable."

"You have not answered my question, Lizzy."

" I am not in intimate terms with Mr Darcy, Charlotte, if that is what you want me to say. I am simply the only unavailable lady of his near acquaintance, that is all."

Mr Darcy filled a glass with brandy, and lit a cigar. He rarely smoke. But after such a disturbing day in the presence of Elizabeth, and a whole evening avoiding his cousin Anne's insinuations, he was at the edge of reason.

"I have been thinking..." he began to say to his cousin.

"Yes?"

" This must be stopt."

"I agree."

"You do?"

"Hmm. You must marry her."

"I know."

"Will you do something about it?"

"I will."

The next morning Elizabeth was sitting by herself, and writing a letter to her sisters, while the rest of the party had gone into the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, and under that apprehension was putting away her half-finished letter that it might escape all impertinent questions, when the door opened and, to her very great surprise, Mr Darcy, and Mr Darcy only, entered the room.

He did not seem surprised at finding her alone, but anyway apologised for his intrusion. As a matter of fact, he had overheard the others' intention for their trip the day before, and Elizabeth's declining the invitation. On seeing the injured Mr Collins at Rosings, bearing a most painful countenance, it was easy to surmise she would be either at home or in the grove. He had followed the path in the grove and having no success finding her there, he made his way to the parsonage. The question he intended to ask needed all the intimacy he could afford.

They then sat down, and when her inquires after Rosings were made, seemed in danger of sinking in total silence. Yet, she remembered the odd conversation she and Charlotte had had while returning to Hunsford and realised it was absolutely necessary to think of something, and in this emergence recollecting when she had last seen him in Hertfordshire, she asked the first thing that came to her mind,

"How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr Darcy! Mr Bingley and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left them?"

Blast! I should have started the conversation. Now she is in control. What was that she asked? Ah yes ... Bingley. "Perfectly well, I thank you."

She found that he was not to say a word on the subject, and after a short pause, added,

"I think I have understood that Mr Bingley has not much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?"

I wish she would stop talking about Bingley. "I have never heard him say so, but it is probable that he may spend very little of his time there in the future. He has many friends, and he is at a time in life when friends and engagements are continually increasing."Think of something ...Think, think...

On seeing she did not intend to drop the subject, he began to get desperate.

Will she not be quiet for a minute? How can a man be supposed to propose to her in this manner? "If he means to be very little at Netherfield, it would be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then a family might settle there. But, perhaps, Mr Bingley did not take the house for the convenience of its neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to keep or to quit it on the same principle."

Houses... neighbourhood...family...marriage...that is it. "I should not be surprised if he were to give it up as soon as any eligible purchase offers."

Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of his friend, and having nothing else to say, was now determined to leave the trouble of finding a subject to him.

Good God! At long last she is quiet. That was precisely what he wanted. To be in charge of the tone of the conversation so that he could turn it at his will. If only she remained quiet for a bit more, all would go well.

He, very decidedly, took the reins of the conversation and soon began with, "This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great to it when Mr Collins first came to Hunsford."

"I believe she did, and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object."

"Mr Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of bride."

She stared at him uncomprehendingly.

Oblivious to her rather apparent disgust on the choice of subject, he continued unabated, "It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy distance of her own family and friends."

"An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles!"

"And what is fifty miles of a good road? Little more than half a day's journey. Yes I call it a very easy distance."

"I should never have thought the distance as one of the advantages of a marriage," cried Elizabeth. "I should never considered living at Hunsford as settled at an easy distance from my family!"

"It is a proof of you own attachment to Hertfordshire. Anything beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far."

As he spoke there was a sort of smile which Elizabeth could not understand. Mr Darcy was thinking of the not so easy distance to Derbyshire, the various carriages in his possession and even imagined Elizabeth, travelling in one of them, to visit her parents. The smile could not be helped.

"I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family," Elizabeth fired back. The tone of the conversation vexed her, for she thought he was talking about Jane and Mr Bingley. "The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expenses of travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But this is not the case here."

Mr Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, "On the contrary. 'Tis exactly the case. Surely you do not worry much about that. Though you cannot have been always at Longbourn, surely you must know you will not have that kind of trouble."

Elizabeth could not look more surprised, but chose not to answer. Her distress and amazement were such that this time Mr Darcy could not forgo it. The gentleman experienced some change of feeling. Obviously it would not be wise to propose to her in the face of her hurt sensibilities; he drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and glancing over it, said in a colder voice,

"Are you pleased with Kent?"

A short dialogue on the subject of the county ensued, on either side calm and concise, and soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte, Maria and Jane, just returned from their walk. The tête-a-tête surprised them. Mr Darcy sat a few minutes longer without saying much to anyone, until he went away.

"What can be the meaning of this?" said Charlotte when he was gone. "Yesterday he was the picture of amiability, today, he is back into his shell again. And what was he doing here at this hour! Alone! Pray, tell us. What did he speak of?"

"Oh, nothing in particular." Merely marriage and connubial happiness.

"Do you think he is in love with you?" asked Maria.

"Maria!" her sister scolded her.

"What! He must be, or he would never have called in this familiar way."

"He is merely too idle. 'Tis so difficult for a gentleman to find something to do at Rosings!" answered Elizabeth.

"Aye. All field sports are over. Within doors there is Lady Catherine and Miss De Bourgh, books and a billiard table," pointed out Jane.

"Precisely," cried Elizabeth.

But Elizabeth's heart was not so easily deceived as her mind. Mr Darcy's uncommon behaviour at Rosings spoke volumes. Why! She had caught him spying her bosom. His eyes, now she knew, were not looking at her in contempt. His gaze he had held in such a way... so close to her ... as to trigger emotions unknown to her till then.

And now, the very next day he appears at her door, alone.

In truth, Mr Darcy had battled fiercely against his own emotions. He had battled and lost. After pondering the irremediable of his situation, Mr Darcy realised there was only one way for him to find peace again.

He should marry Elizabeth Bennet.

Therefore, he had made up his mind to propose to Elizabeth directly. After apprising his cousin of his intentions, this latter becoming greatly excited by the prospect and even made up his mind to, at least, get to know Miss Jane Bennet better, Darcy's and Fitzwilliam's walk in grove becoming quite frequent. They rambled about at various times of the morning, sometimes separately, sometimes together. But Mr Darcy, albeit he came so often into the company of the ladies, seldom appeared really animated. He walked with her beloved side by side, his earnest, steadfast gaze on her countenance, but ten minutes would pass without his opening his lips, and when they did he merely made a fleeting comment on the weather or answer very inarticulately, to a question. Elizabeth knew not what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam's occasionally laughing at his stupidity proved that he was generally different, the change of his demeanour, Fitzwilliam knew, the effect of love, and the object of that love, Fitzwilliam noticed, compleatly oblivious to Darcy's infatuation.

"You must put a stop to this stupidity, Darcy. Have you not made up your mind to marry her? You must tell her. Stop this senseless beating about the bushes."

"That is easier said than done. She is seldom without company. You have been most useful with Miss Jane Bennet, but the other two are relentless, always around, never giving me a second on my own with her."

"I did suggest a stroll further into the fields. You should have hinted to her to stay back."

"She would not have. Where is that stupid toad of Collins all day long? Why does he not take care of his wife and sister for a while?"

"Why do you not ask to talk to her privately?"

"No. I want to catch her unprepared."

"Unprepared?" Fitzwilliam squinted at Darcy, a mischievous smiled blossomed. "I see. So that you can pounce on her!"

"Oh, no. I have merely a kiss in mind. What say you?"

Fitzwilliam shrugged. "A kiss will do. Have you been rehearsing lately?" he teased him.

"Go hang yourself."

"Well, Darcy. If a kiss is what you have in mind, then I say the grove if the perfect setting for your musing. She walks every morning, before prayer hours, and you know her favourite path. Tomorrow will be it. I shall go to parsonage early and manage to entertain her friends. I promise. What will you do for me in exchange?"

"Keep the information of your past affairs to myself instead of telling Miss Bennet. Is that agreeable, cousin?"

"We have a deal," he said smiling.

More than once had Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park, unexpectedly met Mr Darcy. Each time Darcy endeavoured to gather courage and propose to her. With that purpose in mind he had set out every morning from Rosings towards her favourite path. Of course, contrary to her expectations, he would not turn around when seeing her. He actually felt it necessary to change his own path and continue his walk with her. He never said too much. The day in which Fitzwilliam finally managed to keep the other ladies entertained at home, it was their third rencontre. In the course of it, it struck her that he was asking her some odd, unconnected questions, about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks. But the oddest of all was his asking her, her opinion about Mr Collins's happiness in marriage.

Elizabeth felt terribly vexed. Such an intimate question, even in the third person, was not what one could expect from a true gentleman,

"Happiness in marriage is relative, sir." she managed to answered civilly. "'Tis obvious that this one in particular was not built on love but on family interest. Therefore little happiness could be expected from the match."

"Mr Collins is a very peculiar man, I admit. Still his wife must find something appealing in him, don't you agree?"

"Upon my word, sir. I could not find anything appealing in Mr Collins save his constancy in visiting Rosings!"

He laughed at her remark. "So you think it important to find one's partner in life appealing?"

What sort of question was that? What was his intention? Her heartbeat began to quicken and she shivered lightly. To regain composure, she paused for a while in order to answer as impertinently as she was asked.

"I think it is important to be pleased by one's partner's general demeanour and manners. If one is in love, which I assure you this is not the case, surely many an imperfection will be excused. If one is to find real felicity in marriage, an element of passion is necessary."

"Passion?"

"Indeed, sir. Not everyone believes that the right connections, a good dowry and relative distance from the bride's home will suffice."

Darcy felt her uneasiness and discomfort. Again he was losing ground. Why was it that every time he was about to pop the question, she would react affronted and vexed?

"A misconstruction of my words, Ma'am. I never meant to sound so simplistic. Marriage, you must know, is the ultimate goal one has in one's life. I confess I had never thought it possible to marry beneath my station, though a dowry is of no consequence to me, but it seems it cannot be helped."

"It cannot?"

He turned to her and, visibly disturbed, he came very close and said in an agitated manner,

"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how..."

"Mr Darcy!" The voice of the parson shrieking from the path to the parsonage cut him short. In cases such as this, it is unlikely that the spell of the moment would be sustained long enough to allow the gentleman to finish his discourse. This time was no different. If Darcy wanted Elizabeth to answer in the affirmative he must make of the moment of his proposal a very special one. More so now that he knew Elizabeth found passion an important ingredient of the perfect combination for marital felicity. He would soon find that Mr Collins' untimely interruption, however, could not be more timely.

Mr Collins, hopping in a most awkward manner towards them, was shouting all sorts of appellations to call their attention.

"Sir! Mr Darcy! Elizabeth! Pray!"

At length, and very much out of breath, the fat vicar reached their position, and with no little struggle, managed to explain his rush. Or so he tried.

"Oh, dearest Elizabeth. At last I found you. You must excuse me, Mr Darcy. But 'tis a matter of urgency that I deprive you of my wife's company this morning." Then turning to Elizabeth, he said. "My sweet, there is a matter of urgency that needs your attention in the parsonage. Make haste! I shall follow you directly."

He then grabbed Elizabeth by her arm and led her along the path towards the Parsonage, incessantly giving his wife explanations as to what had happened in the house.

Darcy's state of mind was beyond words or expression. His whole world had fallen precipitously in front of him. Mrs Collins was not Charlotte, but Elizabeth. His Elizabeth! Of all preposterous notions, he had never dreamed a nightmare such as this could befall him. But there it was. Elizabeth Bennet had relinquished her maiden name for that of Mrs Collins. She was no longer available. He would never make her his. She was married. And worst of all, she was certainly unhappy.

Helplessly, he gawked at Mr Collins disappearing amidst the trees with his Elizabeth's elbow firmly grasped in his hands, decidedly taking her away from him, and there was nothing, no, nothing, he could do about it.

From a sleepless night Mr Darcy woke up with the same headache and anguish with which he had retired. Still not reconciled with the notion of Elizabeth wedded to the toady parson, Darcy had grown exceedingly angry. He was angry with Collins for having taken what was his in its own right. He was angry with himself for had not taken the decision to marry Miss Elizabeth before. But most of all, he was vexed with Miss Elizabeth. Her Marriage with Collins was a blatant proof of the mercenary nature of her intentions.

I should be relieved for I almost fell for it!

After his brief toilet, he descended the stairs. The breakfast table was ready, his family already gathered to partake the meal.

"Georgiana is arriving in a sen'night, Fitzwilliam. What are you plans for her? " asked Lady Catherine. She seldom addressed Darcy by his Christian name, hence both her nephews rose their heads when hearing the appellation. Colonel Fitzwilliam dropped his knife and looked at Darcy inquisitively.

Darcy was taking a bit of baked potato when his aunt came up with the question. It took him a little while to answer. "I beg your pardon, Madam. Plans?"

"There is a ball in preparation, nephew. Are you planning to take Georgiana to it?"

"No Madam. As a matter of fact I am not."

"She turns seventeen next week, Darcy. Surely you must remember your sister's birthday?"

"Of course." In truth, he had forgotten all about it, his mind most distracted with Elizabeth Collins.

"I have already sent cards to the Earl and purchased a present. Have you already thought about the manner of celebration? I take it we cannot count on her immediate coming out?"

Coming out? No. Georgiana was too young to come out. He would not have her wedded yet. He had already decided to wait another season.

"No, madam. Not this season. Georgiana may be seventeen, but she is still far too young for balls."

"Very well, then. No ball. A dinner party, then."

"I was thinking we could have a picnic in the gardens, with a small orchestra and a few games. Georgiana will love that!" Fitzwilliam suggested.

"A picnic? For a birthday party?" asked an astounded Lady Catherine.

"Why of course! Excellent idea!" finished Darcy.

"But nephew. It is most..."

"Delightful, " added Anne. "I just love it, cousin. I am sure a picnic will be just what Georgiana would like most,. You must allow me to help you arrange everything."

"I thank you, Anne," said Darcy.

" I will ask Mrs Collins to help me. She and her sisters belong to a large family and had several younger sisters. I am sure she will be acquainted with fashionable country games."

"Yes. She is a lively girl. Most certainly she will be able to help you." Admitted Lady Catherine. "However, you must make certain the games are appropriate for ladies of your station."

"Mrs Collins is a gentleman's daughter, Lady Catherine. Anything she suggests would be suitable." answered Darcy a bit affronted.

After breakfast Darcy's torment was evident in his temper. His mood matched the weather, for ever since his last walk with Mrs Collins, a heavy rain began to fall, and the gentlemen were compelled to be housebound. Darcy spent the whole day in a miserable mood, distant and unwilling to partake the minimal conversation. In the evening, Fitzwilliam gathered the galls to approach him in the billiard room.

"Well then?"

Darcy sent a ball to the wrong direction. He rose from the billiard table, and applying chalk to his cue, he assumed a languid posture. "You will not believe this."

"Judging for your face, she must have refused you."

"No" he answered laconically

"So?"

"Even worst."

"Worst?...Mmm. Let me see... She is already engaged."

"You will never guess, I had better tell you." Looking blankly into the air, his jaws firmly clenched he said, " She is married."

"Married?"

"She is Mrs Collins."

The whole society of Kent was invited to the festivities prepared to celebrate Miss Darcy's seventeenth birthday, and the party from Rosings consisted, of course, of the most important guests. A picnic had been set outside, near the shrubbery; Lady Catherine had procured an orchestra, as was her custom for these type of celebrations; the best of food was served in large tables attended by an outrageous number of servants. Many games had been planned for the enjoyment of young and old alike.

The children's favourite was the treasure hunt, for which several trinkets had been carefully hidden in the gardens surrounding the shrubbery.

Her Ladyship, of course, surveyed the whole event from the shade, where she sat with the Fitzwilliams, her daughter and Mrs Jenkinson, and she was in fact almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, more than any other person in her party.

Colonel Fitzwilliam, however, was simply delighted with the games and eagerly participated in the treasure hunt with the little ones, helping those too young to find the priceless gifts amidst the bushes in the garden. Anything was a welcome relief to him at Rosings, and Miss Elizabeth's beautiful sister had taken his fancy very much. So he readily engaged in every game Jane would be herself engaged in. In this manner he suddenly found himself with a piece of silk tucked into the back of his breeches and surrounded by both children and not so young girls, in the centre of the garden, to the delight of Miss Darcy.

This latter, however, had not failed to notice Darcy's dejection and ill temper. Albeit her brother was universally known as taciturn and quiet, she was certain his detached demeanour was the result of a broken heart.

She had also noticed his intense gaze upon the parson's wife. Was her brother enamoured of a married woman? That was pretty outrageous, but incredibly exciting at the same time!

Mr Darcy contemplated Fitzwilliam playing from a safe distance, in truth envying his cousin's natural easy manners and unrestrained demeanour. His eyes had soon and repeatedly turned towards Elizabeth with yearning and longing while this one played and conversed with Fitzwilliam and Georgiana with so much spirit and flow as to make Darcy extremely jealous of his cousin's fortune.

Georgiana whispered something into Colonel Fitzwilliam's ear. He nodded and smiled in complaisance.

"Hey, Darcy!" his cousin suddenly called out. "'Tis your turn now!"

Darcy shifted uncomfortably in his place. He hated to be the centre of attention. Ever so hastily he was surrounded by a herd of children who gently but eagerly pulled him by his clothes and limbs towards the centre of the garden where the games were being played.

"I do not... I ..."

"Come, come, brother. You will not disappoint me, will you?" whined Georgiana with a pout.

"Aye, Darcy. 'Tis for a good cause. After all it's Georgie's birthday, today."

"And you will be rewarded with a kiss!" added his sister enthusiastically.

Before he could protest again, the silk cloth was fastened to his tailcoat.

"What is this?"

"You are a wolf," explained Fitzwilliam, hardly containing his mirth. "These here are the lambs. They have selected a colour. You must say..."

"I know, I know..."

This is ridiculous.

But then he remembered Elizabeth was witnessing the game. He had noticed her enjoyment and thought that she would not improve her opinion of him if he refused to play.

Why he wished to improve her opinion of him, he was not in a position to tell. But such was his feeling at the moment and so he played on.

The children shouted merrily and the young ladies endeavoured to select the colour of his choice, eyeing his clothes to be able to guess it. But Darcy would not make a fool of himself. He had made up his mind to trap a child as soon as possible so that he could come out of the preposterous situation with Georgiana's approbation.

Therefore, the "wolf" got ready for the game. The other people lined up next to each other, with Darcy facing them. Everyone in line picked a coloured ribbon, and the game began.

"Knock-knock," cried a delighted Georgiana.

The line of participants answered, "Who's there?".

Extremely diverted, Colonel Fitzwilliam replied, "A big bad wolf with curly hair". Everybody laughed at his jest. Darcy rolled up his eyes in discomfort.

The children in the line cried, exceedingly excited, "What do you want?"

Darcy, spurred by his unexpected success, poised a wolfy voice and answered: "Coloured ribbons."

The children yelled almost hysterically, "What colour?"

Darcy had spied a little girl holding a yellow ribbon. She could not have been more than five years old. That would be it. The 'wolf', then, said yellow.

Little did he know that the girl had swapped ribbons with Elizabeth, who had serendipitously picked the girl's favourite.

Of course, Elizabeth in turn had not expected to find herself prey of such a predator. On the contrary, she thought herself quite safe, convinced as she was of the gentleman's correctness, she gathered he would politely refuse to chase her. Hence, she merrily showed him that she was in possession of the chosen colour. But, alas! She soon found out that Mr Darcy was quite excited by the discovery, his dark eyes sparkling in wonderment.

A girl of great discernment, she soon surmised it was his intention to chase her. So off she went in a mad intent to get away from him, and ran as fast as she could.

She should not have. She should have stayed standing where she was, and the game would have been over.

For the sight of the object of his most intimate musings, running wildly away from him was more than Darcy could swallow at once. 'Twas a dream come true. An erotic dream, for that matter. Many a time, he had awakened, exceedingly aroused, with the clear sensation of having been running after her, playing hide and seek in the woods of his home, as two lovers would. Once he caught her, they would fall on the lawn and roll on the grass, until they found themselves secluded by the intimate shelter provided by tall trees where he finally made her his.

This time, the real thing, would not offer such an option. Still, Elizabeth was tempting enough. Therefore, Darcy, savouring a sure victory in advance, afforded her a few seconds and when she was at a good distance, he went after her. In vain did she struggle to hide from him. He would invariably catch her (for no doubt he surpassed her in speed and strength). But he chose not to do it so soon. On he chased her until, in a desperate attempt to get rid of him, she sought refuge behind some bushes in the nearest wilderness. Darcy followed her like a wolf in rut that had smelled the female's heat, avoiding skilfully all others' attempts to catch his attention and send him in search of her elsewhere. Eventually, he caught her by her hand.

Her small hand that trembled at his touch.

"I caught you," he whispered without paying much attention to the party that was witnessing their interaction from the other side of the garden. Panting and gasping for air, she tripped over her own foot and almost fell, after the exhaustion of the chase. In noticing her knees buckling, Darcy, most chivalrously (and conveniently in mockery of his dreams), caught her in his arms, and let them both drop their weight on the lawn.

Elizabeth did not know what to make of it. Had Mr Darcy purposely embraced her? Indeed he had. What was more, he could have easily caught her straightaway. But instead he had chosen to run playfully after her. What for? What sort of torture was that, to play this game, designed for children and lovers with a married person who was no allowable to him? ...a man in love is bound to do many a stupid thing for the sake of his lady. Those had been his very words. Could Charlotte have been in the right? Was it possible that Mr Darcy was in love with her?

But the most unsettling thing of all was the mad race her pulse had suddenly taken after Mr Darcy touched her hand.

What is this? Goodness, I am trembling!

Darcy was in no need of guessing the feelings of his captive. He could read her glowing face. She looked so fetching, her hair in frank disarray, her generous bosom heaving up and down in veritable exhaustion. Albeit he knew she was a most respectable lady, the temptation to touch her beloved ... features was too much for his lovesick soul. For a moment he folded his reserve and serious demeanour and enjoyed the tantalising feeling of her closeness and his right, in the ardour of the game, to touch her. Hence, against his own better judgement, he proceeded.

Very tentatively, his hand reached her cheeks. Her soft skin sent delicious shivers to his body. "Are you well?" Ever so softly, his thumb drew the perfect line of her full lips. Elizabeth gasped.

"Did he trap her?" cried Georgiana to Fitzwilliam, exceedingly excited.

"For better or worse, I think he did."

Georgiana looked askance at her cousin. "What do you know?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all," he said innocently.

Enveloped in his own reverie, Darcy bent his face closer still until he was but a few inches from hers. Inhaling lightly, he let her know how much her scented closeness was to his liking. "What shall I do with you, now?" he asked with a twinkle of triumph in his voice.

Elizabeth stared back at him in utter befuddlement. She hardly comprehended her feelings, and was having a terrible fight with a wild impulse to drown in his mouth in a kiss. Slightly trembling, she caught his hand and put a stop to the liberties he had taken over her.

"Wolf!" one of the little ones cried. "Wolf!" All the children quickly surrounded them again, skipping and laughing and shouting, urging them to rise and follow the game.

He looked at Elizabeth facing him, a frown on her visage, an intriguing look in her dark eyes. Have I offended her? Goodness, What was I thinking? But then, to his amazement, she smiled. It was a small, yet promising smile. He was immediately relieved and most unconsciously, a sigh escaped him and a smug smile blossomed. His heart was galloping wildly. Darcy had never been so bewitched by any other lady in his life and this girl had him compleatly under her spell. Elizabeth noticed he was smiling at her, his hand still clasping hers, unwilling to let go.

"Did he tag her?" asked the children impatiently. "Will he kiss her?"

"He will not," declared she with a coquettish gesture, and, rising with a decided jump, ran gaily off, rejoicing in the children's laughter, as she rambled about.

"Wolf! Wolf!" chanted the children. Just then, a horn was blown and the children ran towards a table where pastries and candy were offered to them, and thus the game was indefinitely interrupted. They all followed the group around the table and Darcy, ashamed of his own behaviour, his dignity abused, readily detached himself, not a little frustrated by Elizabeth's hasty detachment from his arms.

For now that he had held her, his empty arms were desperately in want of her. He felt an unknown yearning, a dire need to hold her again, to caress her face with his eyes, to kiss her full lips. This impulse he made a point to fight, yet he found her presence almost unbearable. He paced about the garden in an agitated manner, unable to control himself.

"Nephew!" his aunt's shrieking call brought him back to his senses. "What does this running about mean? Have you lost your wits? Is this behaviour in accordance with your station? Leave the rambling about to the lesser. Call your cousin and approach our party. And pray, stop making a spectacle of yourselves!"

When the games were over, and the lanterns were lit, and the orchestra played some lively music for the folks to dance, everybody got ready to enjoy themselves.

Everyone, except Darcy. He was the most pitiful sight ever beheld by Miss Darcy. Hence, Georgiana came up to her brother and kissed him on one cheek.

"Thank you," she said warmly. "This has been the most beautiful birthday party."

"You are most welcome, loveliest. I wish I could do more."

"Tell me. Did you kiss her when you caught her?" she whispered into his ear.

"Who?" he asked in surprise.

"The parson's wife. She looked as if you had kissed her."

"I will not allow you, young girl. This is not the language of a lady."

She giggled. "I am teasing you, brother. Still, Mrs Collins looked rather compromised when you returned. You must kiss her next time. I am sure she will enjoy it."

And she ruffled his hair with her hand as if she were caressing her younger brother.

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