That night at dinner, it seemed as if everyone in the party save Mr. and Mrs. Hurst had an agenda they wished to put forward. Miss Bingley had the dual goal of ingratiating herself further with Mr. Darcy and ensuring that any idea that her brother might still be entertaining in considering Miss Bennet as a possible marriage partner might be quashed. Contrariwise, Mr. Bingley was determined to advance Miss Bennet as a lady worthy of wooing. Elizabeth hoped merely in some way to maintain her dignity and her appetite amidst several people who apparently had little respect for her and her family. Mr. Hampton aimed to begin to show Miss Elizabeth his interest, which no doubt would assist Mr. Darcy in attending to his focus, which was determining his physician's intentions toward the young lady.

Happily, Mr. Hampton discovered himself seated across from Elizabeth, making for easy conversation as well as an agreeable view. Mr. Darcy had his physician at his left, with Miss Bingley on the right, an arrangement which did not entirely please him, but he knew at least that he would still have no trouble hearing everything Mr. Hampton and Elizabeth said, even if it were sotto voce. Indeed, conversation began almost immediately over the soup course when Elizabeth said,

"Mr. Hampton, have you any notion of when Jane might be allowed to return home? It would seem that now with the threat of a fever gone, she should be able to ride home in a carriage for three miles without danger."

"You are quite right, Miss Elizabeth. I do believe if Miss Bennet stays upstairs for the remainder of the evening, given the greatest opportunity to rest, she could go home as early as tomorrow afternoon. Assuming, of course, that she eats a substantial dinner this evening, a suitable breakfast tomorrow... and that she can assure me that she will not engage in any strenuous activity once she returns home. What say you to that?"

"That would be wonderful, I thank you. It is not that she has not been admirably cared for here," Elizabeth hastened to add. "Indeed, she could have not received better care had she been in the heart of Town, but one always is more comfortable in one's own home."

"So true," said Miss Bingley. "I am certain Jane longs to return to the bosom of her dear family. Life must surely be much more interesting at Longbourn."

It was a seemingly innocent remark, one which could not cause a call for censure. Yet Mr. Hurst snorted and Mrs. Hurst could hardly keep her countenance. Elizabeth hardly knew what to say, but Mr. Hampton was not similarly struck dumb.

"You know, Miss Elizabeth, I for one would be pleased to be included in any party bound for Longbourn. May I be so bold as to ask to accompany you and your sister back home? I think it would be proper for me to see my patient well situated and ensure my instructions are being followed."

Smiling winningly, Elizabeth accepted. "You are too kind, Mr. Hampton. I am certain that my parents will be delighted to have the opportunity to thank you in person for your exemplary care of Jane."

"And you can count upon me to call just as soon as Miss Bennet is well enough to resume her regular schedule," added Mr. Bingley to Elizabeth's further delight and his sister's dismay. "I cannot think of anything more agreeable than becoming acquainted with your family, Miss Elizabeth."

Though he made no outward sign, Mr. Darcy was finding this dinner to be a trial to his patience. He must on the one hand listen to Mr. Hampton flirting - for that could be the only word for it - with Miss Elizabeth, and hear her unmistakably flirting back, and he must on the other accept that none of his warnings about Miss Bennet's unsuitability seem to have made the slightest impression upon his friend. What more must he endure?

He discovered the answer not long afterward when, finding herself thwarted in her attempt at embarrassing Elizabeth, Miss Bingley next turned her attention to Darcy himself and performed the same office, albeit unknowingly.

"I trust everything is arranged on your plate exactly as you like it, Mr. Darcy. Is there anything else you require? May I get you a roll, perhaps?"

Miss Bingley's toadying never failed to rile him, and this time Darcy barely managed to decline in a clipped voice. He despised her having broadcast the intelligence that his food had been cut for him and arranged on his plate for easy management. Small comfort was the realization that conversation had continued in the interim, and he was satisfied that he had not drawn the attention of Miss Elizabeth at this mortifying moment.

This was not entirely true. For while Elizabeth carried on a cheerful conversation with Mr. Hampton, and occasionally Mr. Bingley, out of the corner of her eye she could observe Mr. Darcy eating his dinner. It was a slow process, for first he had to locate a morsel upon his plate, which frequently resulted in an empty fork, and then, when successful, he had to ensure that it did not waver on its journey to his mouth, lest it end ignominiously on his chin or nose. Elizabeth found the procedure painful to watch, but it gave her a greater appreciation of the frustrations he had to deal with on a daily basis.

When at last dinner was done - to the relief of at least two in the room - and the ladies had withdrawn, Mr. Bingley was in his usual high spirits. And that which most interested him was Mr. Hampton's evident attraction to Miss Elizabeth.

"Well, then, Mr. Hampton," began Mr. Bingley with great jocularity, "it would appear that you have made quite a friend in Miss Elizabeth."

Darcy turned his head aside with a scowl.

"Yes, Mr. Bingley," Mr. Hampton said, "I find her company most appealing. She appears to be very forthright, with nothing of artifice about her. I do like that in a person."

"My thoughts exactly! And," Bingley added with no little mischief, "it does not hurt that she is pleasing on the eyes, would you not agree, sir?"

Chuckling, the physician replied, "That she is. Most pleasing."

"Though not as pretty as her sister, am I correct?"

Now Mr. Hampton laughed aloud. "Mr. Bingley, I will allow that Miss Bennet is the handsomest woman of my acquaintance, though I do believe that Miss Elizabeth to be a close second."

In misery, Darcy could do naught but squirm in his seat. He had no way of knowing the relative truth of these statements, but it hurt his pride that he could neither voice his opinion on the topic nor be the man with whom the lovely young lady would flirt. Rather than remark upon it and appear petulant, however, he decided to remain silent.

"She is kind, too, and thoughtful of others," Mr. Hampton added. "She also appears to have an able wit and an eager mind. All in all, a delightful companion."

To this description, Darcy would have assented. In short, if not for all he had heard of her poor connections and unfortunate relations, he might be making the same sort of favourable comments about her. He was growing more irritable by the moment.

"I feel precisely the same way about her sister," said Bingley.

Mr. Darcy could no longer contain himself. "Must I remind you, Bingley, of our conversation yesterday?"

"Not at all, I remember it quite well," his friend replied with no small annoyance. "But you do not know her, Darcy, you cannot know her the way I do."

"Because I cannot see her the way you do?" His voice was rising.

"No, because you have not spent time with her, have not even met her family, yet you are prejudiced against her, and are quick to condemn her relations."

There was truth in this statement, and Darcy was somewhat abashed. The only information which had been confirmed regarding Miss Bennet was that her connections were, admittedly, very low. Of the lady herself, however, he knew nothing first-hand. As to her parents and sisters, his only intelligence - the accusations of vulgar behaviour, of willful ignorance, of fortune hunting - was from Miss Bingley, who must be considered a biased source, as she had great aspirations for her brother and for herself, and made no secret of it. While Darcy would also prefer that Bingley marry more advantageously, how could he denounce the lady outright, knowing truly nothing of her? And, a small voice reminded him, this was Miss Elizabeth's family as well, and she had voiced admirable loyalty toward them, when she thought herself quite alone in the library. Surely that must be worth some consideration. He found himself softening.

"He has a point, Mr. Darcy," said Mr. Hampton quietly, adding force to his patient's internal argument. "Could you not at least endeavour to become acquainted with Miss Bennet? Perhaps, if you are ready to venture into society, you might even consider meeting the lady's family yourself, before you pass judgment."

"A wise speech, Mr. Hampton. I cannot disagree. Very well, Bingley, I will make an effort to engage Miss Bennet in conversation tomorrow before she leaves in the hopes of perceiving some of what you find so intriguing. As to going out in company, however," he grew pensive, "I do not believe I am quite prepared for that."

"Fair enough, Darcy," Bingley said, slapping his friend on the back. "Come, gentlemen, are we ready to join the ladies yet?"

With a grunt, Mr. Hurst acceded, reminding the others that he had, in fact, been in the room, albeit in a state of post-prandial stupor.

Once in the drawing room, Mr. Hampton, as was his habit, saw Mr. Darcy safely seated. This time, however, he left his patient's immediate vicinity to sit beside Elizabeth, a fact which became known to Darcy only after hearing the lady's cheerful greeting. It was his own poor luck that Miss Bingley saw this as the perfect opportunity to attach herself to his side, in the event he found he needed anything at all. He groaned inwardly. He had suffered through dinner, yet here was more of the same.

"This evening, I thought we may have a dramatic reading," Miss Bingley said to all assembled. "Shall we not read from The Vicar of Wakefield*? It is perfectly delightful!"

And so the company - Mr. Darcy excepted, of course - read from Mr. Goldsmith's work. Mr. Hampton read first, and all listened with the same enjoyment that Elizabeth so lately had in the library, for he performed with gusto, and even occasionally at the expense of his dignity. He succeeded most admirably in entertaining the assembled, and in charming the ladies. Darcy, too, enjoyed the reading, but as he had listened to Mr. Hampton's pleasing baritone on many occasions, he was free to concentrate more on the nuances of his physician's performance. Thus his mind took a different turn; Darcy fancied that he could hear in Mr. Hampton's voice a smile, and further, that the smile was directed at Miss Elizabeth. Others soon took over the reading, although the story itself was told in one voice, and while he enjoyed the tale as he had so often in the past when he had read it himself, Darcy could not shake that first impression he had had of something between the physician and Miss Elizabeth, and it irked him not to be able to see it for himself.

The story being too long to recite in one night, the party agreed to continue the next evening, though without Elizabeth, who reminded them that she was for home the next day. The gentlemen remarked politely but accurately that the entertainment would not be the same without her, though the ladies, it should be noted, remained conspicuously silent. When at last the party broke up and Mr. Hampton assisted Mr. Darcy to his rooms, the former said,

"Forgive my impertinence, sir, but tomorrow morning after breakfast, would you like me to suggest to the others a turn in the gardens, so that you might have the opportunity to spend some time alone with Miss Bennet?"

Darcy started. What a remarkable offer! Had he given something away? "Why would I care to do that?" he replied warily.

"Why, so you may fulfill your obligation to our smitten Mr. Bingley, and get to know her a bit. It will be easy: I will insist that Miss Bennet remain seated, for the sake of her fragile health, and you will volunteer to stay with her. And so you will be able to apprise yourself of what you need to know about her family."

Ah! Enlightenment dawned. Miss Jane Bennet! "Of course, that will do nicely, I thank you."

Once safely in his rooms, Darcy sat awake for a long while, thinking of how complicated his life had become. Having to have the simplest tasks performed for him was a source of constant irritation. He worried about his sister Georgiana, who had been told only that he had had an accident, but not the nature or seriousness of it, and had been informed in such soothing terms as not to distress her overmuch. His letters were being penned by Mr. Hampton, and she assumed there was something merely wrong with his writing hand. It troubled him to deceive her, but it could not be helped. Further, Darcy was vexed at the uncomfortable social situation in which had found himself, something he had always endeavoured to avoid. He was now in a position to pass judgment over a would-be bride for Bingley without being able to observe her behaviour, and if he were being honest with himself, he was doubly vexed that he could not see the intriguing Miss Elizabeth - although, he reasoned, it was just as well, for her low social standing made her an inappropriate object of attention for him especially. He sighed. He tended to take a brighter view of his condition than did his physician, and had reason to hope that he would regain his sight sooner or later, at least in one eye. At least, this was his hope, but he dare not voice it to the others. Yawning, he made another attempt to fall asleep.

When he finally approached the bed, she was already there, reposing serenely, her back to him. He chuckled. She was wearing one of those dreadful nightgowns she had brought from home, the ones that covered her from neck to wrist to ankle. No matter. It would not stay on her for long.

He climbed into bed and lay close beside her motionless form. Lifting her heavy plait (another remnant of her previous life - he preferred her to leave her glorious hair loose about her shoulders at night), he kissed her neck and the tender spot just below her ear and whispered, "Elizabeth." He felt her body tremble with delight, and a small sigh escaped her. Happily, he pressed his body full against her back, letting his already substantial arousal speak for him, as he allowed his hands to roam her lush form. Overcome by an urgent need to kiss her sweet lips, he pressed her shoulder down into the downy mattress. A bright beam of moonlight shone across the pillow, and he felt himself draw back in horror, for there were no lips to kiss. Indeed, she had no face at all.

With a cry, Darcy woke himself from this nightmare, drenched in sweat. His heart was pounding, and his breath came in huge gasps. He thought briefly about summoning a servant, or wakening Mr. Hampton, but the ensuing embarrassment would be too much for him. Instead, he walked carefully over to the water basin, and, stripping off his nightshirt (why did he bother with the damned things anyway?), dabbed at the exposed areas of his face, cursing the gauze dressings that Mr. Hampton would surely have to change in the morning. It would be a long time before he was once again able to find slumber.

The next morning, without explanation, Darcy had his physician change his dressings before proceeding to breakfast, where he put on an air of equanimity he little felt. When the others left on their excursion to the gardens, he found himself in the situation Mr. Hampton had described, alone with Jane, and it was an awkward tête-à -tête, to say the least. He felt compelled to begin the conversation:

"Mr. Bingley tells me that you and Miss Elizabeth are among five sisters."

"That is true, sir. I am the eldest, and Elizabeth the second. Our sister Mary is in the middle, followed by Catherine, known as Kitty, and Lydia, who is but 15."

"I have a sister myself, Georgiana, who is Lydia's age. Do you all draw?"

"No, none of us."

"None? That is singular. I have heard Miss Elizabeth play and sing; are the rest of your sisters similarly talented?"

Jane laughed gently. "That depends upon how one takes your meaning, sir! Only Mary also plays and sings, and she is considered the more accomplished on the pianoforte, though hers is still a modest talent. The rest of us do not practice those arts."

"Well, which arts do you practice?" An impertinent question, of course, but one he considered necessary.

"We all dance, of course, and are quite adept at needlework, though Kitty and Lydia have less patience for it, preferring to trim bonnets. We can all ride, though we have varying degrees of enthusiasm for the skill. Lizzy and I speak French, and I believe she has also picked up a little Italian from her singing." She paused. "Surely you cannot be interested in the minutiae of our dull maidenly lives, Mr. Darcy. May I ask to what these questions tend?"

He coloured slightly. This was precisely the sort of inquiry to which he was loath to respond. "My friend Bingley has mentioned you several times, but has given me little actual information about you or your family. We have been under the same roof for several days, yet have had no opportunity to speak. I merely wish to become better acquainted."

"Indeed." Jane guessed that his interest really lay in another member of her family, but did not suspect his true motives. But, being a pleasant and well-mannered sort of young lady, and always wishing to spare an acquaintance any amount of discomfort, she carried her end of the conversation admirably, revealing yet another maidenly talent. She kept him thus entertained for a good twenty minutes, until the rest of the party filed in from their walk. Mr. Hampton pronounced Miss Bennet well enough to make the carriage ride home, and the servants were informed to prepare for an afternoon departure.

Just after luncheon, when all others in the house were occupied with other pursuits, Darcy was determined to find his way to the library on his own, painstakingly counting his paces and listening for cues that would tell him where he was. When finally the heavy wood of the doors as well as the particular smell of the place told him he had reached his destination, he smiled in triumph. But he found another fragrance underneath, and knew immediately to contain his obvious satisfaction.

"Good afternoon, Miss Bennet," said he, succeeding in surprising Elizabeth, who had been deep in her reading. "I would have thought you would be with your sister."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Hampton is with Jane at present, no doubt lecturing her on the proper comportment of a patient while not under the care of her physician. He need not worry, of course, as Jane is completely incapable of disappointing anyone. I was just reading..." She indicated the copy of The Vicar of Wakefield which she held, then realized to her mortification that he could not see it. "I was merely reading The Vicar of Wakefield, continuing from where we left off last evening."

Darcy smiled, and Elizabeth thought it looked well on him. "Well, then," he said, "may I join you?"

"Of course." But as he headed confidently into the room, she found it necessary to cry out to warn him. "Mind the table!" for a small table had been carelessly left in his path by a previous occupant.

Fortunately, he stopped immediately. She hastened to his side and hesitantly touched his arm. "May I?"

"I thank you." Although his reply was appreciative, he did not wish to convey how very happy he was to have her perform this office for him. She steered him around the offending table and led him to a settee across from her own chair.

"Perhaps you would like me to read aloud?" Elizabeth asked, realizing there was not much else for the man to do in the library.

"That would be lovely." And so she did, with an enthusiasm that astonished and delighted him. For though she had been a willing participant the night before, the presence of Miss Bingley and Miss Hurst had dampened her pleasure. In their absence, and in the presence of a man whose enjoyment could come solely from her performance, she was able to demonstrate her natural zeal for the story and the sheer joy of reading.

Darcy could not remember having passed a more enjoyable half-hour since his accident. When at last Elizabeth concluded, Darcy sighed. He was eaten up with curiosity, and she would soon be gone from Netherfield. If he did not say something now, it would soon be too late.

"Miss Bennet..."

"Mr. Darcy?"

"Miss Bennet. I am aware that you are for Longbourn today, and I have a favour to ask of you."

"Yes?"

"I should very much like...to see you before you go."

What an extraordinary request! "Mr. Darcy..."

"I am aware that I appear to speak of impossibilities. And yet, there is a way, if I might be so bold as to ask you: pray let me see your face in the only way I am capable of." He was silent for a moment, but now it was too late to turn back. "Will you? Will you forgive my outrageous impertinence, and allow me to touch your face?"

Elizabeth grew very flushed. "It is a shocking breach of propriety, sir, to allow you to touch me thus when we are alone."

"All too true. And yet, I beg you will permit me this small concession, for there is very little of beauty in my life at this time."

This Elizabeth could not deny. Whatever objections she had to such an unusual appeal faded under the reality that Mr. Darcy had been suffering for the past week, and might continue to suffer for the remainder of his life. So at length she said,

"Very well," and, taking his hands, sat down on the settee beside him. Then, closing her eyes, she placed his hands gingerly at the top of her head.

He touched her hair very lightly, enough to appreciate its texture without disturbing its style, ever aware that to do so would surely draw the attention of others. Next, he skimmed his fingertips over her forehead and finely arched brows, then as gently as a butterfly rested them upon her closed eyes, feeling the length and quality of her lashes. After what to Elizabeth seemed like an aeon, he placed one finger at the bridge of her nose and drew it down its length. Then, once again employing both hands, he stroked his fingers over the height of her cheekbones, across the silken skin to run them leisurely over the curves of her ears and lobes.

Then, leaving his fingers resting just below her ears, he employed his thumb to draw the shape of her slightly parted lips, first the top, slowly, then the bottom, the heat of her breath caressing them. Not content with one pass, he repeated the exercise with the other thumb, the second time even more slowly than the first.

When finally his hands continued on to define her chin, Elizabeth felt an unmistakable sensation that she had been kissed, and quite thoroughly. Wondering at the brief impulse she had had to employ her teeth or her tongue against his thumbs, or even - most shocking! - to draw one into her mouth, she found the feeling unnerving, yet wildly exciting. Further, such unprecedented close proximity allowed her to notice something unexpected: that is, he smelled good - no, he smelled divine. Never in her life had Elizabeth had such an unbearably sensual experience. Her entire body trembled with the force of it.

Darcy drew his hands down to her throat. With his fingertips under the fine hairs on the nape of her neck, his thumbs could feel the pounding of her pulse, and knew she, too, had not been unaffected. He rested his thumbs upon her collarbone, feeling the increased tempo of her breathing. How he longed to proceed lower, to discover those curves which only his imagination had seen! But he dared not; as a gentleman, he could not condone taking such advantage, but more important, she would hate him forever. Reluctantly he returned his hands to his lap, where he gripped them together in a despair of frustrated yearning.

"You are beautiful," he declared hoarsely.

Elizabeth opened her eyes and, blushing, stammered out, "I am nothing of the sort. My sister Jane..."

"Yes, I am aware that your sister Jane is considered the beauty of the family. I have heard as much many times from Bingley. But I know the truth of it. Perhaps, then," he whispered, "it is to be my secret."

"Perhaps," she whispered back, quite unable to think clearly. Then, suddenly regaining her composure, she broke the spell by rising abruptly and saying, "Forgive me, Mr. Darcy, I had better get ready to leave."

Rising as well, Darcy extended his hand, and knowing what was expected of her, Elizabeth placed her own in his much larger, much warmer one. He brought it to his lips as he had done upon the conclusion of their first formal meeting, but this time, he pressed not one, but two kisses upon it, and would not release it until she said, very softly, "Mr. Darcy..." and pulled it gently from his grasp.

Being thus employed with each other, neither knew of the presence of Mr. Hampton, who by the time Elizabeth had opened her eyes, had retreated outside the door. It had not been his intention to eavesdrop on his patient and Miss Elizabeth, but now he felt the danger such an intimacy posed to his plans, and resolved to begin his suit in earnest once the Misses Bennet returned home.

*by Oliver Goldsmith, 1730-1774

A half-hour later, the separation, so agreeable to almost all, took place. While Mr. Bingley was truly sorry to see the sisters go, Miss Bingley's and Mrs. Hurst's heartfelt farewells were all that was insincere. As for Mr. Darcy, none knew of his feelings on the matter, for he said only what was strictly required of him, and his face remained impassive.

Mr. Hampton, as was agreed, accompanied the ladies in the carriage to Longbourn. On the ride back, he spoke to them of Mr. Darcy, and the latter's wish to remain outside the public eye. The sudden acknowledgement of the presence of an infirm gentleman at Netherfield would cause talk in the neighbourhood, which would hamper rather than enhance his recovery, and it was thus settled that they would make no mention of his presence during their stay, awaiting the time when Mr. Darcy would decide for himself his readiness to return to society.

Elizabeth, for her part, was thankful not to have to discuss Mr. Darcy with her family and friends. In the drawing room after dinner the previous night, before the gentleman had joined them, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had given her to understand that Mr. Darcy came from an ancient and wealthy family, and moved in only the highest circles of society. They had further added that his noble bearing, handsome visage and skill at the dance (not to mention his magnificent estate) made him much in demand by the ladies of the ton, and, once he recovered from his grievous injury, it was expected that he would choose a bride from among them. It appeared from their conversation that Miss Bingley's own hopes were high, and Elizabeth sensed that she was being strongly warned away from any possible involvement with the gentleman. It was fortunate then, that, given Mr. Darcy's affluence and supposed good looks, she had not felt any particular regard for him...that is, until their last meeting in the library had so disquieted her, arousing peculiar feelings in her breast that she would rather deny. Now her logic was so at odds with her physical response to his nearness that she no longer knew her own mind.

At Longbourn, the physician was greeted with the utmost civility and gratitude by Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. Once he saw Jane comfortably settled, with strict instructions for avoiding a relapse, he prepared to depart, but was stopped by Mrs. Bennet, who spoke thus:

"Mr. Hampton, will you not allow us to show our appreciation for all you have done for our dear Jane by staying for dinner?"

He was greatly pleased by this invitation, but his first loyalty had to be to his patient. He could not simply abandon Mr. Darcy without notice. So he replied:

"Alas, madam, I cannot this evening. But if you will give me leave to defer your hospitality, I would be glad to accept on another day."

"Then perhaps tomorrow night?"

"You are most kind. I would be delighted."

And so Mr. Hampton, secure in the knowledge that he would see Elizabeth again the following day, was content to take his leave. Before doing so, he gently took her hand and kissed it, saying,

"Until tomorrow, then, dear Miss Elizabeth."

This was all Mrs. Bennet needed to see. She knew nothing of this gentleman, save his meticulous medical care of her eldest daughter, but if he was unmarried, she was willing to consider him an eligible match for her second eldest; for Jane, of course, no one less than Mr. Bingley would do. Immediately after Mr. Hampton's departure, she began:

"Oh! What a delightful gentleman! Truly, Lizzy, you are fortunate to have caught the eye of such a gracious and learned man. He must have something special tomorrow! Do you know what his favourite dishes are? Heavens, I shall go distracted!"

Elizabeth knew not what to say. When Jane had playfully suggested at Netherfield that Mr. Darcy might have an interest in her, Elizabeth had scoffed. For such a great man to be attracted to a young lady he had never seen, and one whose circumstances were so far beneath his own, seemed too much out of the ordinary. Even after their meeting in the library, she deliberately chose to attach no significance to his actions, astonishing though they may have been, insisting to herself that they stemmed from boredom and curiosity. Indeed, she knew it would be for the best that she not read too much into them.

But she had not at all given thought to Mr. Hampton. He was her father's age, after all! And yet, did he not seek out her company at Netherfield? Did he not pay her particular attention? Was this the behaviour of a congenial but lonely older man, or the manner of a lover?

Good Lord! Suddenly she felt she must be alone. Or better yet, she must talk to Jane. Fortunately, her sister was relegated to a seat by the fire, and her mother, who would ordinarily be enquiring minutely about Jane's stay at Netherfield, felt it was more urgent to plan the following night's dinner. The rest of the family, having greeted her warmly after her absence, had already gone about their business.

"Jane," said Elizabeth quietly, "did you notice Mr. Hampton paying me any exceptional attention while I was at Netherfield?"

"Well, Lizzy, you must recall I was rarely with the both of you at the same time, and most often, he was busy looking after me."

"True. But do you think, is it possible, that he regards me as a potential bride?"

"I cannot say. Again, I have not spent enough time with both of you present. Why? Do you think he intends to court you?"

"The thought never occurred to me until now, when Mama implied it. Why, he must be as old as Papa! But Miss Bingley had indicated that he was a widower, so I suppose he might want to marry again. And he has been...very cordial toward me."

"If he was interested in you, Lizzy, would you consider his suit?"

Elizabeth wrung her hands. "I hardly know. To be sure, it would be a fine match. He is a kind man, well-educated, and has an excellent practice in Town." She frowned. "But, Jane, I have always been determined that only the deepest love would persuade me to marry."

"Out of such mutual regard and understanding love often blooms."

"But he is so old."

"Lizzy, let us not jump to conclusions. Perhaps he is just naturally gallant."

Elizabeth, not so convinced, merely said, "Perhaps."

While Mr. Hampton was delivering the ladies to Longbourn, Mr. Darcy chose to return to his rooms rather than face the chatter of Bingley and his sisters. He was completely unsettled; nothing was clear. He had been prepared to detest Jane Bennet, to find her as low as her connections, but instead he found her sensible and soft-spoken, if not a sparkling wit. Still, did she have any feelings for Bingley? Damn! He could hardly determine that without being able to see her behaviour around his friend, since a proper young lady did not declare her affections to the world! The danger lay precisely there, for if she did not have tender feelings for Bingley, then she was acting on purely mercenary motives and must be avoided at all costs. Further, Darcy had not yet encountered this family of which Miss Bingley had spoken in such terms of disgust, but in order to do that, he must leave the sanctuary of Netherfield to venture out into yet another tension-fraught social situation, revealing his circumstances to the world.

And then there was the other Miss Bennet. Unconsciously, he began to play the fingers of one hand against the palm of the other, as if retracing the contours of her face. Her skin - so soft! Her lips - so full! And she had responded so dramatically to his touch. He groaned in frustration and carnal longing. His experiment had proved a huge error in judgment, affecting him far more than he had anticipated, and he was besieged by fantasies of touching her again, of having the right to explore the rest of her in dizzying detail. It was all but consuming him. But what could he do? If he chose, he need never be in her company again. It would be simple enough, for he could easily stay secluded at Netherfield and, once he was well enough to travel, he would return to Pemberley. He would have to at some point, regardless. Is that what he wanted?

Or did he wish to further the acquaintance, even embark on a flirtation, knowing full well that the difference in their circumstances would preclude a more serious involvement? He shook his head. As tempting as she was, it would be ungentlemanly to sport with her feelings, and therefore not an option. He slumped in his chair, his heart low.

Then suddenly, he sat up, pounding his fists onto the arms of his chair. Such agony over a girl you have never seen, have known for less than a week! What foolishness! Come now, man, you must get yourself under regulation. It is not seemly for you to be mooning over her, or what could never be. You are a Darcy, after all, and there is no place for self-pity at Pemberley. Your primary goal right now is to recover from this accident and resume your rightful place. There will be time enough to meet interesting young ladies after your eyes heal. And with that thought, Darcy summoned his valet to help him dress for dinner.

Dinner that evening was a much less strained affair now that the guests were gone. Indeed, Miss Bingley, in a generous mood, did not even feel the need to insult her absent friend or her relations. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley animatedly discussed the possibility of some sport during the week, and Mr. Hampton hummed to himself in contented distraction. Mr. Darcy chatted amiably with all at the table, his determination to forget the pleasurable sensations of a few hours past, and their source, unyielding.

"Mr. Darcy," said Mr. Hampton, "I hope you will forgive me, but I have agreed to dine with Miss Elizabeth and her family tomorrow at Longbourn. Surely you can spare me for an evening?"

Schooling his face into an emotionless mask, Darcy replied pleasantly, "Of course you may leave me for an evening, Mr. Hampton; I appreciate your giving me notice. Should I require assistance, I will merely request it from Bingley or a servant. Enjoy your dinner."

"I thank you, sir. You know," he added in a low voice for Darcy's ears alone, "it will give me the perfect opportunity to investigate the comportment of Miss Bennet's family on your behalf."

"Interesting," Darcy answered in an equally quiet voice, keeping an ear attuned to the uninterrupted conversation of the others. "All right, Mr. Hampton, seeing as I can not perform this function myself, I will deputise you. Please report your findings to me straightaway once you return from Longbourn."

"As you wish."

Mr. Bingley soon sought Darcy's opinion on the subject of horses, and so, his conversation with his patient at an end, Mr. Hampton toyed thoughtfully with the remnants of his meal. A practised observer of the human condition, he had seen no reaction from Mr. Darcy when Miss Elizabeth was mentioned. Nor did his patient attempt to keep him from Longbourn, or even ask to send his regards, and Mr. Hampton was relieved. Mr. Darcy's behaviour with the young lady in the library had given him pause. While it had not been exactly scandalous, and had even been understandable given his unfortunate circumstances, the look on Mr. Darcy's face while he was exploring Miss Elizabeth's had been evidence enough to Mr. Hampton of the alarmingly arousing effect she had on the man. But he was now confident that her removal from Netherfield had allowed Mr. Darcy to regain his senses and his previous disinterested attitude, allowing the doctor to court the lady unimpeded.

Nevertheless, Mr. Hampton determined to speak as little as possible of Miss Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy, to ensure that the gentleman may soon forget her charms. For he had also seen how Miss Elizabeth responded to Mr. Darcy's touch and, while things were progressing so well with his hopes for the future, it would simply not do to have the Master of Pemberley distracting her, or - heaven forbid! - causing her to fall in love with him.

Once the ladies had withdrawn, Mr. Bingley at once pounced upon Mr. Darcy for his opinion on Miss Bennet.

"So, Darcy, now that you have had the chance to speak to her at length, what is your opinion?"

"I would hardly call twenty minutes 'at length,' Bingley. However, I will concede that she appears to be agreeable enough company, a good conversationalist, if a little dull. It was a good enough beginning."

"All right, then, I will settle for that for now. Would you care to join me when I call on the family tomorrow morning?"

"No, Bingley, I think I have been clear about my feelings on the matter: I am not yet prepared to face the gawking of the neighbours." To the surprise of both his friend and his doctor, however, Darcy continued, "But perhaps Mr. Hampton would care to accompany you on your call."

This is indeed an unexpected bonus! thought Mr. Hampton. "To be sure, I would, Mr. Darcy. I thank you," he replied.

And so the following day, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hampton left Mr. Darcy in the care of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst to call on the Bennet family. Bingley was well aware of Mr. Hampton's interest in Miss Elizabeth, having noted the admiring looks the physician had directed at the young lady on several occasions, and thought it very decent of Darcy to assist the doctor in advancing his courtship. Mr. Hampton himself, however, was certain that Mr. Darcy's motive was to allow his proxy to observe Mr. Bingley's behaviour in the company of Miss Bennet and her family.

If Mr. Darcy had another, more selfish object in encouraging Mr. Hampton to go to Longbourn, he kept it to himself. In the meantime, he sat placidly while Miss Bingley read to him, with no great talent or enthusiasm, from the The Times.

When Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hampton arrived at Longbourn, all the residents therein were pleased to see them, but none more so than Mrs. Bennet. Though the gentlemen visited politely with the entire family, it was clear to her that they only had eyes for the two eldest daughters, and she was happy to encourage them. So she sent them out for a walk in the gardens, keeping a keen eye on the couples through the sitting-room window, anxious for signs of growing fondness.

Though Mr. Hampton's manner toward her was just as easy and unaffected it had been at Netherfield, Elizabeth felt awkward for the first time in his presence. The idea that he might be enamoured of her, and might wish her as his bride, made her exceedingly uncomfortable. When he smiled at her, where she had once seen an amiable companion, she now saw a potential suitor of advanced years. Blanching, she wondered if she could ever get past his age to accept him as her husband. Liking him well enough, and there being no other impediments to such a union, she vowed she would try to keep an open mind, and maybe even develop some affection for him. As a first step, she offered him her hand, and with delight he took it, and placed it proudly in the crook of his arm as they strolled the gardens. Within the house, Mrs. Bennet saw it, and rejoiced.

In his delight, Mr. Hampton seemed not to notice Elizabeth's discomfort. "Netherfield has lost all its effervescence since your departure, Miss Bennet. And to think you were there but a few days!"

"That is kind of you to say, Mr. Hampton."

"Are you glad to be back at Longbourn?"

"I must admit that to be true. As tumultuous as it can sometimes be, I missed my own home greatly."

"And yet I must admit that I had grown accustomed to your lively presence, and missed it greatly." He smiled at her warmly.

She blushed in confusion, for such compliments from him had taken on an entirely new significance. Seeking a topic with which to distract him, Elizabeth asked, "Pray, tell me, Mr. Hampton, how does Mr. Darcy do?"

Mr. Hampton tensed, but, upon seeing her face all innocence, he relaxed his guard and said, "As well as I have expected."

"Do you have a better sense yet what will become of his eyesight?"

"No, I believe only more time will tell the tale."

"Poor man," she sighed. "And what of his wounds? How is his skin healing?"

So many questions, and intimate ones in the bargain! Mr. Hampton grew concerned at her interest. So he answered thus: "The wound is healing nicely, though the development of proud flesh concerns me." He peered at Elizabeth. "Are you familiar with the term?"

Nodding, Elizabeth said, "The veterinary surgeon showed me such as had developed on our horse Nellie after she received a cut on her leg." She frowned and bit her lip. "It is very unsightly, is it not?"

"Oh, yes, very. A shame, really." Mr. Hampton shook his head. "It could really ruin a man's looks." There. He had said it. He wondered if she would notice that he was speaking in the conditional only. In truth, there was but a small area of proud flesh on Mr. Darcy's wound, and while there would be scarring, Mr. Jones's poultices had been remarkably effective, and the doctor saw nothing that would make of Mr. Darcy an ogre. But he was so certain now...so certain that he could persuade Elizabeth to help him make his dreams a reality, that he was willing to mislead her if only a tiny bit, to ensure that her natural, ladylike disgust of physical disfigurement would keep her from developing any romantic notions of Mr. Darcy.

As they walked on, Elizabeth mused on the doctor's answer.

Proud flesh. If she had heard the news but the morning before, she might have considered it a poetic irony for such a proud man to be so afflicted. And yet...once he had touched her, so gently, so sensually, she could not be cavalier about his suffering. Nor could she ignore the sensations that went through her whenever she chanced to think about that touch. By comparison, the feeling of Mr. Hampton's hand upon her own could only be found wanting.

When at last the gentlemen returned to Netherfield, both were in an ebullient mood. Bingley was grateful that the doctor had given Miss Bennet leave to take a brief walk, the day being exceptionally fine, and he remarked to Mr. Hampton that the stroll had done as much for him as it had for Miss Bennet, putting roses in the cheeks of both. "Spending a half-hour in the glowing presence of a lovely young lady has been known to have that beneficial effect, eh, Mr. Bingley?" replied Mr. Hampton in an imitation of his professional manner, as they entered the house. The two laughed heartily. Then Mr. Hampton went in search of his patient.

He did not have to go far, for once Mr. Darcy's acute hearing had picked up on their arrival, he requested that Miss Bingley assist him in going forth from the morning room to meet Mr. Hampton. This Miss Bingley was only too happy to do, for not only did it mean being of service to Mr. Darcy - and she did love to be of service to Mr. Darcy - but it also enabled her to walk with her arm intimately tucked into his, as she imagined they might do once they were married. As a consequence, however, Darcy was privy to the lighthearted remark made by Mr. Hampton, and it rankled him. Whether it was for the implication that Mr. Bingley had overmuch enjoyed the companionship of Miss Jane Bennet, or that Mr. Hampton had similarly enjoyed that of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Darcy was not prepared to say.

"Mr. Hampton," Mr. Darcy said upon meeting him in the hallway, "might I have the pleasure of your company? There are some letters I would have you write."

"Of course, Mr. Darcy," replied the doctor. He was a trifle abashed at having been overheard in his praise of the Bennet ladies. About Miss Jane Bennet he had a responsibility to stand neutral until such time as her feelings and the comportment of her family could be determined. And of Miss Elizabeth he had sworn for his own benefit not to speak in front of Mr. Darcy. He bit his lip in consternation, wondering if Mr. Darcy might say something about either lady. But the gentleman said nothing, so Mr. Hampton continued, "Do let us go to the library, then," and sought to take Mr. Darcy by the arm.

"I can find my own way now, Mr. Hampton," said Darcy mildly. "Shall I not take the lead?"

The physician was surprised, though he knew his patient to be a clever and independent man, so he said with genuine approval, "By all means, sir," and walked side by side with Mr. Darcy to the library.

There Darcy dictated a letter to his sister, another to his steward at Pemberley, a third to his banker in London and a fourth to his solicitor. Mr. Hampton marveled once again at the volume of correspondence for which a gentleman was responsible.

Letter writing took up the rest of the morning, and just before they were to join the others for a light luncheon, Mr. Darcy asked,

"How went your visit to Longbourn this morning, Mr. Hampton?"

The doctor attempted to perceive in what spirit the question had been asked. Was Mr. Darcy irritated at his showing approval of Miss Bennet? Was he fishing for news of Miss Elizabeth? Darcy's face held no clues, so Mr. Hampton responded:

"They were very hospitable, Mr. Darcy. Mrs. Bennet is, I grant you, a mite talkative, but I had little interaction with the rest of the family."

"You were gone above an hour. Of what could Mrs. Bennet speak for that length of time?" Darcy had not thought to be so abrupt with Mr. Hampton. His irritation had begun to show, and he chastised himself for so quickly having lost track of his intention to remain dispassionate on the subject of the Bennets. "Forgive me. You do not have to account for your time to me."

"I have nothing to hide, Mr. Darcy. In truth we were in the sitting room for no more than fifteen minutes. The remainder of the time was spent in the gardens. I am pleased to say that Miss Bennet is well enough to take a turn out of doors on a warm day like today." It was a sufficient answer, all true, and he hoped it would enable him to escape mention of Miss Elizabeth.

"I am glad to hear it. And how is her manner around Mr. Bingley?"

Finally, Mr. Hampton was on solid ground. "I observed her closely, Mr. Darcy. She showed every indication of enjoying his attentions, but was properly demure and did not pursue him."

"Would you say that she returns his affections?"

"Difficult to say. It is clear that she likes him a great deal. But with a young lady, it is not easy to know her mind."

"Indeed. Well, thank you for your assistance, Mr. Hampton." The two rose, and Mr. Darcy allowed his doctor to lead him out of the room.

As they walked, Darcy remained silent, for he was deep in thought. Where was his pledge now, to cease thinking of Miss Elizabeth? His object in sending Mr. Hampton with Mr. Bingley to Longbourn this morning had been twofold: to gain intelligence about Miss Bennet's feelings for Bingley, and to persuade himself that he did not care if Miss Elizabeth had an admirer. In one respect he had succeeded, but in the other he had failed miserably. Although his pride would not allow him to bring up Miss Elizabeth's name, he desperately wished to hear Mr. Hampton speak of her, but the doctor remained mute on that subject. Inwardly, Darcy was forced to accept that if he was incapable of keeping his own resolution, Mr. Hampton would obviously keep it for him.

That evening at Longbourn, dinner was a raucous meal, as the younger girls giggled incessantly at the presence of a suitor, refusing to heed Jane's pleas to cease, and the lady of the house barraged Mr. Hampton with impertinent questions about his life in Town. Even Mr. Bennet, seeing in Mr. Hampton a contemporary with whom he could share substantive conversation, could barely get a word in edgewise, though he tried mightily. However, the physician greatly enjoyed being the guest of honor. Mrs. Bennet had seated him next to Elizabeth so that she might have the pleasure of seeing him lavish attention on her daughter. That Elizabeth's colour was high due to embarrassment - both for her family's ill behaviour as well as her own awkward situation - rather than delight was of little consequence to her mother. Elizabeth hardly tasted her food, and when the ladies withdrew, she would have felt relieved, but for her mother's constant comments:

"Why, Lizzy, I daresay you have Mr. Hampton exactly where you want him." At this, Lydia snorted loudly. "If only you would smile more, my dear, then he might even propose this evening. Would it hurt for you to act pleased? Heavens, one would think you did not wish to be married!"

When Mr. Bennet and Mr. Hampton joined the ladies, the latter directed himself to Elizabeth's side. He chatted good-naturedly with her about a new book he had read, and described in amusing detail the last play he had attended in Town. Elizabeth was enjoying his company and had nearly forgotten her unease until he spoke thus in a low voice:

"Miss Elizabeth, you cannot have failed to notice my particular attention upon you whenever we have chanced to be together. You have, in fact, engendered feelings within me, affectionate feelings that I have not experienced in a very long time. I know my own heart, but our acquaintance has been of such short duration that it is too soon, perhaps, for you to have developed similar sentiments for me. I know I am being presumptuous, but is it asking too much to have your permission to court you?"

Elizabeth blushed violently at this, and could not meet his gaze. Mr. Hampton took it as a good sign, and raised her hand to his lips. Delicately withdrawing it, she said,

"It is so very sudden, Mr. Hampton. I cannot say..."

"Promise nothing, and I shall not be disappointed. Tell me only that you are willing to let me call upon you, to try to move you, and that you will keep an open mind."

Incapable of venturing even a nervous smile, Elizabeth hesitantly agreed. Mr. Hampton's countenance was filled with such happiness as could not be missed by Mrs. Bennet. That fine lady said to her husband, "You shall see, Mr. Bennet. Within the next six months, we shall have two daughters married! Ha! What envy the neighbours will have of us then, eh, my dear?"

It was with this great sense of satisfaction that Mrs. Bennet fell quickly to sleep that night, but Elizabeth could not find slumber. Her mind was reeling, her emotions in an uproar. She was doing the sensible thing in encouraging Mr. Hampton's suit, was she not? He was intelligent, not unpleasant to look at, all that was amiable. And it was clear he admired her greatly. If she refused him, would she come to regret having lost an opportunity for a comfortable and contented life, her lack of dowry being a stumbling block to other suitors? On the other hand, would she ever come to love him as she should? Could he make her truly happy? Could she ever look upon him and see a lover, the companion of her life - the father of her children! - and not, say, some favourite uncle or a schoolmate of her father's? The exertion eventually exhausted her, and she fell into a fitful sleep.

She was at a ball, and she was passing from partner to partner until she grew thoroughly dizzy. Finally, she ended paired with Mr. Hampton, and his familiarity and stability gave her great comfort. But as they danced, he grew older and older until he was a wizened creature, barely capable of movement. Elizabeth tried to support him, attempted to keep dancing, but he fell to the ground and before her eyes dissolved into a pile of dust. With a cry, she dropped to her knees and sifted through the powder, trying to will him back, but to no avail.

Then she heard a masculine voice say, "Come. Come to me," and she found herself in a lavish bedchamber, her ball gown replaced by a nightgown, but one such as she had never owned, sheer and white and fit for a bride. She had not a moment to admire her fine surroundings before the room went completely dark before her, as if all the candles had been snuffed out at once, with not even a flicker from the fireplace to light the way. "So it is with me," the voice said, and she felt hands upon her person, masculine hands, warm and loving and unmistakably erotic through the thin silk of her gown.

"But I cannot see," she cried, pushing the man away. "Where am I?"

"Does it matter?" the voice answered, and she felt strangely comforted. She found herself embraced again, caressed by those knowledgeable hands - stroking her neck, her breasts, her hips - and she gave in to the blissful sensations, no longer fearful of the dark. Lips touched her own, gently and exquisitely, and a whisper came in the blackness: "You know all you need to know."

When her eyes flew open, darkness again greeted her, but she was reassured by the glow of the firelight. Still, she could not go back to sleep, for she found herself overheated and panting, aroused beyond anything she had ever experienced before. She was extremely discomfited, mortified that a dream of Mr. Darcy could do such things to her.

But wait - how did she know it had been Mr. Darcy? She had seen no one, after all, and the voice was but a whisper. Perhaps it had been Mr. Hampton? a small voice inside her head asked hopefully. No. No. She knew precious little of Mr. Darcy, but she quite definitely knew his touch, sensual and disturbing, and she was as certain as she was of her own name that it had been him. And he was, quite literally, a man in darkness. Elizabeth lay awake a long while.

The following day, Kitty and Lydia attempted to recruit their elder sisters for a walk to Meryton. Elizabeth and Jane had learned that during their absence, the militia had arrived in town, and that the soldiers would be quartered there through the winter. The youngest girls, both possessed of high animal spirits, were in a swoon over the row upon row of officers they had encountered upon visits to the town, and Mrs. Bennet, only somewhat less so, for she had fond memories of redcoats herself.

Lydia and Kitty were therefore determined to go to Meryton almost daily on the chance of viewing the officers, and their mother did not see fit to discourage them. Mary, of course, thought nothing of the business, and owned that she would rather spend time with a good book. Jane, who had been strictly instructed by Mr. Hampton not to exert herself, naturally declined. Elizabeth, exhausted from a nearly sleepless night and in a great agitation of emotion, would have stayed home with Jane, but her elder sister insisted that she get out into society, having been restricted for several days to the limited company which Netherfield and Longbourn had to offer. And so, reluctantly, she went, with the thought that at least she might be useful in restraining her younger sisters from imprudent displays.

In Meryton, Kitty and Lydia seemed to know precisely how to locate officers, and despite her best efforts to control the girls, they were too headstrong, and Elizabeth found herself introduced to more than half-a-dozen young men while walking along the main thoroughfare. Finally, Lydia squealed,

"Look, Kitty! It is Mr. Wickham! Does he not look especially delicious today?"

So loud was her cry of delight that the object of her scrutiny turned in search of its source and, waving gaily, proceeded toward them. Elizabeth blushed deeply, for the officer was, indeed, the handsomest gentleman she had ever set eyes upon. As her sisters introduced him, Elizabeth decided that Mr. Wickham was blessed with all the best part of beauty - a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. All thoughts of Mr. Hampton, and what there were of Mr. Darcy, fell away under the warm gaze and dazzling smile of Mr. Wickham.

Whilst Elizabeth was making a new acquaintance, Mr. Hampton was being quizzed by Mr. Darcy on the dinner at Longbourn the previous night. "Friendly country manners" is how the doctor described the comportment of the family, hesitant to give full weight to the lack of decorum of the youngest Bennet daughters and the somewhat brazen questioning of the mother. For he was fond of young Mr. Bingley, and also fond of encouraging affection in lovers of any age, and so was hesitant to say anything that could cause Mr. Darcy to intervene in his friend's relationship with Miss Bennet. So "exuberant," he added, and also, "unpretentious."

"I see," said Mr. Darcy. Adept at reading between the lines, he surmised that there was a certain lack of dignity and propriety in the Bennet family that Mr. Hampton was loath to reveal. Like it or not, if he was to determine what was best for his friend, he would have to encounter the family himself. He wondered under what circumstances he could arrange such a thing. Thanking Mr. Hampton, Darcy set about divining a way to gain the sought-after intelligence without putting himself in the bright glare of general notice.

When first George Wickham arrived in Hertfordshire, he thought the neighbourhood held little promise. His decision to enter the militia now quartered at Meryton had been strictly practical; having no particular skills or talents, he needed something on which to live. He had been particularly distressed by the sudden and unpleasant conclusion of his last attempt at securing a substantial fortune via a young miss the preceding summer, and he had few hopes of finding a wealthy bride in these unsophisticated environs. Yet his new friend Denny assured him that there were many attractive girls to be found in Hertfordshire, and Wickham's intention therefore had been to dally with a few of them ere he could locate another heiress to marry. Who, indeed, could resist the favours of a stout country girl!

Denny had called to his particular notice the Bennet girls, for despite their lack of fortune, they were - with the possible exception of Mary, the middle daughter - the prettiest to be found in the neighbourhood. In this Denny required very little assistance: Lydia Bennet had quite brazenly called Wickham's attention to herself, leading him to believe she might be an effortless - and pleasant - first seduction. Then, however, he met her sister Elizabeth, and his goals changed. For where was the thrill in an easy conquest? Elizabeth was far more comely and was at the peak of her beauty, while Lydia had yet to achieve it. So he turned his regard upon the second eldest Bennet girl, who had the further inducement of a quick wit. At least he would not be bored!

That week, Mr. Wickham called upon the Bennet family three times, charming all of the ladies, including the mother. Despite - or perhaps because of - the abundant hints dropped by Mrs. Bennet that Lizzy would soon be engaged to a physician from Town, the lieutenant managed to send ardent gazes Elizabeth's way under the guise of attending to her sister Lydia. This did not escape Lydia's notice.

"But I saw him first!" she complained to Kitty as the two trimmed bonnets indoors whilst their sister and the handsome lieutenant took a brief turn in the shrubbery. "Why should Mr. Wickham take such an interest in Lizzy? She already has a suitor." The two looked at each other, then giggled madly.

"Perhaps she wishes to have a spare," Kitty suggested, "in case in a year or two Mr. Hampton should be unable to walk!"

Both laughed heartily at this conjecture, but Lydia soon recovered and sniffed, "You would never catch me allowing an old man to court me. La! Lizzy is so strange! What appeal could Mr. Hampton possibly hold for girl of twenty? He always wants to speak of books and operas and such. How dull!" She scowled at the bonnet over which she had been labouring all morning, and tossed it aside. "Still, that cannot give her the right to monopolise Mr. Wickham."

"It is he who is pursuing her, Lydia, not the other way around."

"It matters not. All I care is that he does not notice me when Lizzy is around, and it is simply not fair!" She retrieved her bonnet from the floor. "Oh, well, I suppose I will have to flirt with Denny now. But he is not nearly as handsome, nor as tall, as Wickham."

Truth be told, Elizabeth was quite taken with Mr. Wickham. The fairness of his visage made her sigh when she was alone at night, and while she was not so enthralled by his regimentals as were her younger sisters, she had to admit that they fit his broad shoulders magnificently. On the occasions on which he had called upon her family, she had been flattered by his pointed admiration of her, despite some initial misgivings that she was being disloyal to Mr. Hampton. These she had quickly shrugged off, reminding herself that she had only given the doctor her permission to court her, not her promise to marry, and how was she to determine her own heart if she was not permitted to make the acquaintance of other gentlemen? Nevertheless, a nagging modicum of guilt remained, tainting her enjoyment of Mr. Wickham's delightful company.

Of Mr. Wickham's frequent presence at Longbourn, Mr. Hampton knew nothing. His duties to his patient kept him from calling frequently, and when he did, it was never during the hours when the other gentleman was present. Moreover, it was a strict rule of Mrs. Bennet's that the lieutenant's name not be mentioned within the hearing of the physician, for she would have nothing jeopardize Elizabeth's future. Mr. Hampton's own happiness at being with Elizabeth was therefore unalloyed, for he thought that every day that passed brought him closer to that which he most desired.

Mr. Darcy had grown restive. More than a fortnight of enforced seclusion at Netherfield, with its unchanging party - and the ever-more exasperating presence of Miss Bingley - had taken its toll on him. It had been little satisfying to him that the Misses Bennet had honoured his request for silence, for he found himself to his astonishment almost wishing that a slip of the tongue had forced him fully out into society. He finally resolved that there must be some new company at the estate; he would determine if the plan which he had been mulling had merit. So he called upon Mr. Bingley and said carefully,

"Old friend, do you not think it time that you invited the Bennet family to dinner?"

Bingley grinned. "It would certainly be my pleasure. But Darcy, do you intend to join us? I thought that you did not wish to be seen."

"That is still the case, I fear. With your assistance, however, I can still partake of the general gaiety, if not of the conversation."

The next day, Bingley announced to his relations his intention to issue a dinner invitation to the entire Bennet clan. Over his sisters' strenuous objections, he insisted, saying that he had already dined at Longbourn twice at their invitation and therefore was quite in their debt. There was no dissuading him, and the invitation was made, and gratefully accepted.

It was fortunate that the Bennet family was so impressed by the grandeur of Netherfield Park as to be at first intimidated into silence, or they might have started in on their graceless comportment the minute they entered the foyer to greet their hostess. It was not, however, until they were seated in the dining room that Lydia thought to exclaim loudly,

"Lord! What a dreadful large table this is! Mama! Have you ever seen such a table? I know I have not. Why, I do not believe even Sir William has a table this grand. I wager you could seat half of Meryton in here, Miss Bingley!"

Caroline merely turned to the unruly girl with a cold look, unable to manage even an insincere smile on her behalf. Mr. Bennet saw it with delight, for he was greatly amused by all that was ridiculous in human behaviour, even when it was prompted by his own family.

Never one to disappoint Mr. Bennet's expectations, Mrs. Bennet took up the topic. "I am not surprised, Lydia, for here you will find only the very best of everything, I am sure. Oho! Mr. Bingley has become quite an important addition to our neighbourhood, has he not, Jane?"

"Mama!" the eldest daughter responded weakly, but a soft gaze from Mr. Bingley took away much of the sting of her mother's impropriety.

And so it went for the entire meal. Elizabeth had little relief from her mortification, as her father did not see fit to restrain his family, and in fact occasionally added to the hilarity. Though she saw that Mr. Hampton and Mr. Bingley both bore her family's ill-breeding quite cheerfully, and was grateful for it, she could not be happy, for she was all too aware of the barely concealed disgust displayed toward her kin by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.

She also wondered with dismay what Mr. Darcy could be doing whilst the rest of the party enjoyed a fine meal and lively - if ill-mannered - company. Being seated between her mother and Mr. Hurst, however, she could hardly ask after him, yet she thought it would abominably rude not to make an attempt to visit with him while at Netherfield, to break the monotony of his isolation. It was not until after dinner, when the gentlemen had rejoined the ladies, that she had an opportunity to speak to Mr. Hampton.

No one thought aught of it when she drew the physician aside and spoke in a low voice to him, for all assumed the pair would soon be affianced. Yet they were not speaking of personal matters.

"Pray, tell me, Mr. Hampton, where is Mr. Darcy? It troubles me that he has no relief from his loneliness while we are all making merry."

Such a kind soul she is! I have chosen well! "Your concern for others does you great justice, Miss Elizabeth."

She shook off the compliment. "And so what does he do while we all gather to entertain ourselves?" An unpleasant thought struck her. "Surely he does not sit alone in his rooms, or in the library?"

Laughing quietly, Mr. Hampton patted her hand. "No, my dear, he does not. During dinner, in fact, Mr. Darcy took a tray just behind the servants' door in the dining room, and likewise now sits comfortably in the servants' hallway adjacent to this room. He has been able to hear the bulk of the conversation, and will be able to enjoy any music which our hostesses intend to provide."

So he must have heard all that transpired during dinner! Oh, how vulgar he must think us! My family has surely confirmed to him all of Miss Bingley's worst opinions! Elizabeth was horrified, and yet she thought: Is it not very ironic that this grand gentleman must lurk among the servants? He would rather debase himself thus in private than to reveal his disability to the world! Who is low now, Mr. Darcy of Pemberley? Despite her best efforts, however, she could take no satisfaction in this incongruity, for her compassion whispered, Would not most people find it preferable to humble themselves rather than to become objects of public derision or pity? Would not you? Think on what a desolate existence he must be living!

"I see," Elizabeth finally said, glancing toward the service door with a frown. Knowing of Mr. Darcy's lonely presence here and not greeting him would be unpardonable. By-and-by, Mr. Hampton's attention was eagerly called by Mr. Bennet, who had had little opportunity to speak with his contemporary during dinner, and Elizabeth casually strolled over to Jane; with a whisper, she informed her sister of her intentions. Her eyes wide, Jane would have attempted to dissuade her, but she found Lizzy - seeing herself on a mission of mercy - quite determined, and reluctantly agreed to stand guard. She walked stiffly beside Elizabeth, engaged in some trifling conversation, and then stood before the service door attempting to appear casual as Elizabeth poised herself next to it. When at last Miss Bingley sat down at the pianoforte, all eyes turned toward their hostess, and Elizabeth, taking her opportunity, quickly stole out. Even Jane would not have known that she had gone, if not for the breeze that billowed the hem of her gown.

Elizabeth really had no idea what she had planned to do once she arrived in the passage, but she need not have wasted a moment of concern, for just within the doorway on a narrow chair sat Mr. Darcy. It was with a great deal of surprise that he started, clambered to his feet and exclaimed, "Miss Bennet!"

How ever did he know it was me? "Hush! Mr. Darcy! Someone will hear!"

He chuckled with the pleasure of being in her close vicinity, and also with the absurdity of her worry, "Above Miss Bingley's performance? I seriously doubt it." How extraordinary! She takes a great risk to meet me here. Wondering at the purpose of her visit, Darcy sincerely hoped it was not part of some parlour game she was playing.

"Nevertheless, it would not do for someone to come investigate. Jane is prepared to bluff should anyone ask for me, but I would not wish to call undue attention." She was pleased to see that despite his not knowing that he would be receiving a visitor this evening, he was impeccably groomed. In truth, he was looking quite striking indeed! Elizabeth noted that no evidence of proud flesh was visible, but she supposed it could be concealed beneath his bandages, and after all, the lighting in the passage was poor.

"I hope you have you been in good health, Mr. Darcy." Without thinking, she added, "You are looking well."

Immensely gratified by the compliment, he smiled broadly, and she felt an unwonted lurch in her breast. "You are too kind, Miss Bennet. Will you not be seated?" He indicated the sole chair, but she declined.

Awkwardly, she attempted to explain herself, "I felt that I should not leave Netherfield without at least greeting you, but I must not tarry long." As Elizabeth stood near him, she wondered with some alarm why she had been so set on seeing him, for now that she was in his presence, inhaling his clean, masculine scent, she could think of not a single appropriate thing to say. Grasping at straws, she continued,

"Has the Netherfield party yet finished its reading of The Vicar of Wakefield, Mr. Darcy?"

"Indeed we have, the night you left. Though I must admit, Miss Bennet, that I found your reading of it far more entertaining."

She was glad that he could not see how deeply she coloured, thinking of what had transpired between them after her reading; she wondered if his mind tended the same way, and the possibility made her breathless. "And...and have you moved on to other literary works?"

"I fear not," he sighed. "Miss Bingley has been practicing some new pieces on the pianoforte," evidence of which was now pouring through the closed door, "and we have had instead the nightly pleasure of hearing her progress."

Smiling at the picture he created, Elizabeth asked, "Does no one read to you, then, Mr. Darcy?"

"Mr. Hampton has been kind enough to read me the papers, and when he is unavailable, Miss Bingley performs his office, though she finds the material dry. But no one has volunteered to read as you did, Miss Bennet. And I," he grimaced, "do not wish to importune them, as a child might, for a story."

He looked so dreadfully gloomy that Elizabeth could not help but say, softly, "Shall I not come, then, of a morning, on a pretence of calling upon Miss Bingley, and read you something more entertaining, some Shakespeare, perhaps?"

His heart surged with her generosity, though his voice remained matter-of-fact. "That would be a great kindness, Miss Bennet, and I would be forever in your debt." He added tentatively, "You would not tease me, would you? Will you give your word that you will appear as promised?"

"You have my word, sir. I will come tomorrow." Elizabeth was touched by his frank plea, and could not say more.

A light scratching at the door was then heard, Elizabeth's cue to take her leave. "I believe must return to the drawing room, Mr. Darcy, else I shall be missed."

"Of course, Miss Bennet, I thank you for your visit," he said with a bow. "Till tomorrow, then." With Jane standing before the door, Elizabeth slipped out too quickly to allow him the pleasure of kissing her hand. After she departed, his proud bearing sagged, and he added quietly to the emptiness of the hallway, "And yes, it is for certain you will be missed."

Darcy's night was restless. The conflict within him burned, and he found no relief. Over and over again in his mind he heard the high-pitched squeals of the youngest daughters, the absurd yet solemn pronouncements of the girl called Mary, the indiscreet remarks of the mother, and even the sarcasm of the father, who referred to his own offspring as "the silliest girls in all of England." Are you truly surprised at their common behaviour, his hauteur argued silently, given their low connections, their relations in trade?

By the time the evening's entertainment had begun, Darcy had been ready to issue a frank disapproval of Bingley's choice of sweetheart, despite the inoffensive and entirely appropriate comportment of the lady herself, both during dinner and at their previous interview. But he found himself quite prevented from fulfilling his intentions by the unexpected arrival in the hallway of Miss Elizabeth.

Darcy never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger. Truth be told, there had been times, in the solitary hours since her departure from Netherfield, having neither company nor comfort, when he would imagine with a sigh what life could be like with such a woman at his side. He would, at those times, need to remind himself of the difference in their circumstances, repeat it like an incantation, for it was all that stood in the way of his throwing himself at her feet. But even now, even with all he knew about her vulgar family, he felt himself unable to banish her from his thoughts. It had not been too many days since he had sworn that he would not allow her to influence his felicity, yet at the first opportunity, he discovered that he was again rejoicing in her presence. How quickly had the disadvantages of her situation been forgotten when she had suddenly appeared this evening! How gracious and kind he had thought her, visiting him in the hallway, at great risk to her reputation! And how eagerly he anticipated her arrival tomorrow! Yet he could not give full rein to those feelings, for the thoughts of what he owed to his family name, to Pemberley, were always foremost in his mind.

Reluctantly, Darcy forced himself to return to the matter of Miss Bennet. What was he to do? Was he prepared to advise Bingley against this imprudent match, at the risk of causing his friend emotional distress? On the one hand, all that Darcy had heard this evening supported Miss Bingley's claim that the Bennet family would not be a suitable addition to her own. Their lack of fortune and humble connections aside, they behaved with complete disregard to decorum, and Mrs. Bennet's only object appeared to be seeing her daughter well married. On the other hand, about Miss Bennet's attachment to Bingley, Darcy could surmise very little from his own perceptions, or rather, from what had been said between the two of them within his hearing, for that is all that he had at his disposal. After all, if the lady's feelings were truly engaged, one must tread delicately, regardless of the impropriety of the family. But his only other sources of information had been Caroline, who was admittedly prejudiced against the Bennets, and Mr. Hampton, whose unbiased observation had been inconclusive.

He needed an ally, someone to be his eyes. It was indeed fortunate that Darcy, feeling his isolation all the more after the departure of the Misses Bennet, had Mr. Hampton several days ago pen a long-overdue letter to his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, informing him of his misfortune, and requesting his presence. The Colonel was anticipated shortly, his arrival expected at least temporarily to relieve Darcy of the unceasing tedium of his sightless days at Netherfield. And certainly with the Colonel's clever observation a more rational decision about Miss Bennet could be reached. In addition, Darcy thought, perhaps he could begin to rely less on Mr. Hampton, who seemed, rightfully so, to be anxious to move on with his life.

Thoughts of Mr. Hampton quite naturally led Darcy again to think of Miss Elizabeth. With some melancholy, he wondered how their courtship was progressing. For he had it from Bingley, in his friend's typically guileless way, that the physician had received Miss Elizabeth's sanction to court her, and that all that was required was for the lady to make up her mind.

Oblivious to the comfort of his bed, Darcy tossed and turned. It seemed only a matter of time before Miss Elizabeth agreed to the match, for it was the sensible thing to do, and she did not strike him as capricious. The thought of her married to the elderly doctor pained him, but such was the way of the world. Thus spake his sense, but his sensibility cried out for the intelligent and amiable companionship - and yes, the physical comfort - he knew she could provide him, if only circumstances were different. Hushing the latter, he was finally successful in his attempt to fall into a fitful sleep.

He walked up behind her in the servants' passage, and slid his arms about her. "Darcy," she sighed, leaning her head back against his shoulder. "Where have you been? I have been waiting so long."

"Not so very long, surely," he replied, drawing her close and pressing his lips to her neck, inhaling her intoxicating wildflower scent.

"We have not much time," she breathed. "I must go soon."

Pleasantly distracted, he murmured against her ear, "Where? Where are you going?"

"Why, to the church, of course. I cannot be late for my own wedding."

"Your wedding?" he asked stupidly.

She turned towards him, and he had at last the opportunity to admire her fine, long-lashed eyes, her downy cheek, her full, sensual lips. But an appreciative glance at her shapely body quickly revealed her obvious wedding attire. Adjusting his already perfect cravat, she spoke patiently, as if enlightening a dim child: "You know I marry Mr. Hampton today. So make haste, my dear; I cannot keep him at bay for ever."

And with that she took hold of his cravat and pulled him tightly against her, kissing him impatiently on the lips.

There were domestics about, he suddenly realized, but saw too that they were all blind, their heads wrapped in gauze as his had been after his accident, and no one noticed a thing amiss. So he returned her kisses, just as thirsty for her as she was for him, the two of them drunk with the potency of their passion.

Then, just as suddenly it had begun, it was over, as she calmly stepped aside, adjusted the veil on her bonnet, and extended her hand.

With a delighted smile, a man that he took to be Mr. Hampton - for Darcy had never actually seen the physician - then took her hand, and kissed it. Staring straight at Darcy, he recited with an arched brow, "But, O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes!"* And with a curt nod, the two disappeared, leaving him alone in the dim light.

Darcy awoke with a start. His head hurt, and he could not shake the sense of loss that plagued him. Reaching out to the nightstand, he groped for the pocket watch from which, to suit his current purposes, he had had the crystal removed, and feeling the face, found that it was just past five o'clock. All possibility of further sleep was quite impossible. There was naught to do but await the arrival of the morning, and with it, the woman that so delighted and yet tormented him.

When Elizabeth awoke the morning following the Netherfield dinner, she realized that in keeping her word to Mr. Darcy, she would miss a promised call from Mr. Wickham, and in that she was disappointed, but not overwhelmingly so, for she knew the importance to Mr. Darcy of her visit, and her heart was touched by his plight. It was an easy matter to persuade Jane to join her in calling upon Miss Bingley at Netherfield. The gentlemen were to be out shooting, so Jane did not have the additional inducement of seeing Mr. Bingley, but she understood her sister's position and graciously agreed to accompany her.

It was clear that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had not expected them to call, especially since the Bennets had somewhat overstayed their welcome the night before, Mrs. Bennet being loath to remove her daughters from the presence of their admirers. To her credit, however, Caroline put on a pleasant face and welcomed her dear friend and her friend's less-than-dear sister into the morning room and invited them to take a seat.

Observing that Mr. Darcy was not among them, Elizabeth enquired after him and was told in a perfunctory tone that he was in the library, but Miss Bingley knew not why, because Mr. Hampton was calling upon Mr. Jones, leaving his patient quite deserted. She did not add that, oddly, Mr. Darcy had most adamantly declined to join her and Mrs. Hurst in the morning room, preferring to remain by himself amidst the musty old volumes that he could not even read.

Turning aside her head, Elizabeth smiled, for she knew Mr. Darcy's patience must indeed be strained by the constant companionship of these two. She then excused herself, saying that she would stop by the library to offer good morning greetings to Mr. Darcy.

"You might choose to reconsider, Miss Eliza," Miss Bingley said confidently, "for Mr. Darcy has expressed a wish to be left alone, and indeed appears to be in a somewhat disagreeable humour today."

"It is so very kind of you to warn me, Miss Bingley," replied Elizabeth. "But I feel I would be remiss if did not at least convey my good wishes for the day. Since he is such a foul mood, as you say, then I will certainly return here directly."

And with a curtsey, Elizabeth quitted the room, just as Jane asked a question of Miss Bingley about the latest fashions from Town, and the latter was all but forced to engage in a conversation of some duration.

Upon Elizabeth's entrance into the library, Darcy stood up as he had done the previous night. "Miss Bennet," he bowed.

"Am I truly so noisy that you are always well-informed of my arrival in a room, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth laughed. "Perhaps I should take care to muffle my shoes. And how do you know that it I who have arrived, and not, say Miss Bingley?"

"Pray, remember that my senses are far more perceptive now, Miss Bennet." He felt that should suffice. He need not tell her that he had grown to listen for her light step, and to await with enjoyment the wildflower scent that always accompanied her.

"Have you an idea of what you would like for me to read today?" As Elizabeth had found that Mr. Darcy could far too easily upset her equanimity, she hoped to keep her tone businesslike.

"You suggested Shakespeare, and I would agree. One of the comedies, I think, for I would have something cheerful. However, I am quite at a loss to tell you where such a volume might reside, as I have never had the pleasure of seeing this room."

"Quite true. Allow me, then." Elizabeth walked briefly about the room, and huffed with distaste. "I am sorry to tell you, Mr. Darcy, that there appears to be little to interest us in this library. Apparently Miss Bingley's copy of The Vicar of Wakefield has been returned to its owner, and I see naught else but agricultural tracts and sermons. Tsk! I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these! Hm, there is King Lear, but perhaps that is not quite cheerful enough to suit your mood ... Ah, wait! I see a volume of poetry! It seems rather recent, as well. How odd. But it is on a shelf quite out of my reach, and I must first fetch a stool."

"Nonsense, Miss Bennet, I would not have you climbing about on my account. We could endeavour to find another. Or, perhaps, would the book be within my reach?"

Glancing at Darcy and then up at the shelf, Elizabeth quickly took the measure of both the man and the distance and said, "I believe it is. Would you care to make the attempt on my behalf?"

"I would gladly brave the dangers of a bookcase on your behalf, Miss Bennet," he replied gallantly with a smile. I would do much more for you, if only it were within my power.

She blushed. "Well, then. With your permission..." She took his arm and guided him towards the bookcase. As she did so, she stole a glimpse at his face and marveled at the appearance of the new skin on his face. In the light of day, she could see but little damage, certainly no proud flesh. She wondered again if it were hidden by his dressings...or whether perhaps Mr. Hampton had been less than honest with her.

Once they arrived before the bookcase, she instructed, with laughter in her voice, "Raise your arm above your head." Darcy complied, feeling slightly ridiculous and not a little vulnerable, but even Georgiana had never dared to tickle him. "Now move your hand forward to touch the shelf." Aha! Contact! "Do you feel the spines? Good! Now move two volumes to the left, and there you have it!" Elizabeth clapped her hands gaily. "Success!"

Drawing out the book, Darcy held it out toward the sound of Elizabeth's voice, and released it most reluctantly. He wished he were on such terms with her that he might playfully withhold it, obliging her to fly at him in an attempt to wrest it from him physically. He coloured at the thought, and hoped she would not see.

Having assisted Mr. Darcy back to his seat, Elizabeth took another opposite him, and read, "Hours of Idleness, by one George Gordon, Lord Byron." She shrugged. "I have never heard of him."

"I have, Miss Bennet. He is very young indeed, and is only now making a name for himself." Darcy did not choose to add that many had names for Lord Byron that were too scandalous for a lady's ears. Racking his brains for what he had heard of Hours of Idleness, he hoped that there was nothing within which would distress Miss Elizabeth.

Fortunately, Elizabeth seemed pleased to find a trio of poems dedicated "To Caroline," and with wicked delight determined that these would be the first that she would read, since, she explained to him lightly, he had no choice in the matter.

Darcy smiled, acknowledging this to be true, and sat back comfortably in his chair. The poems spoke of ardent love, and the pain of parting, but Caroline Bingley was farthest from his mind.

That is, until a tapping of shoes in the hallway alerted him that that several ladies were approaching the library. With great regret, Darcy murmured to Elizabeth that they were soon to be interrupted, and stood to greet the newcomers. Elizabeth was not truly sorry, for the poems had expressed sentiments very passionate indeed, and she was grateful that Mr. Darcy could not see the flame upon her cheek.

"There you are, Miss Eliza!" exclaimed Miss Bingley. "I hope you have not been disturbing Mr. Darcy."

"She has not disturbed me in the least," Darcy replied, though this was not altogether true: he was in fact, much disturbed by Elizabeth, but pleasantly so.

Miss Bingley pursed her lips; she did not look pleased. "Shall we not all leave this fusty old room and take a stroll through the orangery? It would be so refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude."

"That sounds charming," said Darcy, and before Miss Bingley could offer to assist him, he held out his arm to Elizabeth, who graciously though with some small embarrassment accepted her office as guide. And so the entire party moved to the orangery, where they passed a pleasant quarter hour before the Bennet sisters excused themselves to leave.

At Longbourn, Mr. Wickham had felt no small disappointment in finding Elizabeth not at home; he thought, judging by her demure blushes and smiles, that he had been making slow but steady progress with her. Nevertheless, he was not one to let an opportunity go to waste, so he shone all his considerable charm on Lydia instead. That young lady was indeed receptive to his advances, far more so, it appeared, than her reticent older sister. Perhaps he had been mistaken in focusing strictly on Elizabeth: he could have both Bennet sisters, could he not, providing the youngest could be persuaded to keep a confidence?

By way of experiment, Mr. Wickham invited Lydia to take a turn in the garden, leaving Mr. Denny, by design, to occupy the mother and other sisters. The girl accepted with alacrity, delighted beyond measure at having the handsome lieutenant to herself for once, and the two strolled arm in arm amidst the shrubbery. Confident that there was none to observe them, Mr. Wickham whispered to his companion,

"Fair Miss Lydia, you have quite enchanted me with your lively air - you steal the very sunshine from the sky! Dare I hope that I might be permitted to bestow upon your fair brow a kiss?"

Lydia was all anticipation. There was nothing more exciting, she had heard, than a stolen kiss. With a show of modesty she had little practice in performing, she replied,

"Why, Mr. Wickham, you do me great honour! By all means, you may do as you requested."

Wickham then placed a very brief and deliberately chaste kiss upon her forehead. He immediately, to his delight, sensed her disappointment, and said softly,

"You seem vexed with me, Miss Lydia. Do you find me so very wicked for taking such advantage of you?"

"Not at all, Mr. Wickham," she pouted, annoyed that playing the demure miss appeared to have dampened his ardour.

"Well, then, may I be so bold as to request... Nay, I must not! You have been too condescending already!"

"What, what is it that you wish?" she cried, forgetting her act. "Oh, Mr. Wickham, you must not think me cold!"

"Could I then prevail upon you for a kiss upon my cheek?" He held her hand to his heart. "It would mean so very much to me."

Without hesitation, Lydia drew closer and pressed her lips upon his cheek. She sighed with the sensation.

He, too, sighed. "Thank you, Miss Lydia. You have made me the happiest of men." Then he appeared to remember something. "But, oh, dear, you must not reveal this to your sister Elizabeth! She would be jealous, and might even tell your mother, who would forbid me from ever seeing you again!" Grasping both her hands, he cried, "Promise me that you will keep this our most cherished secret!"

Lydia practically glowed. "I promise."

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