It was past 11 o'clock by the time Elizabeth awoke, as she had finally fallen into a fitful sleep around dawn. At first, delicious memories of Mr. Darcy's visit the previous night caused her to smile drowsily, until she realized that by now, she might very well be betrothed to Mr. Hampton...or perhaps soon to return to Hertfordshire to mourn her beloved. She sat up in bed with a groan; either option was repugnant, and she felt faint. But much as she despised the notion, it was necessary for her to get dressed and face the company downstairs, and discover what her fate would be. Ringing for Lucy, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stared at the servants' door. It was too much to hope that Mr. Darcy would once again enter the room through it, and, alas, when the door opened, it was indeed only Lucy.

Though outwardly cool, Elizabeth was trembling within when she descended the stairs. She found the party, lacking only Mr. Darcy and the doctor, collected in the parlour, and when she entered the room, they all turned as one to stare at her. The Colonel, seated next to Georgiana, looked as if he desperately wished to say something to her. Only Jane rose and approached her, however, with a gentle smile on her face. To her disquiet, Elizabeth could not tell the meaning of that smile, as it could be interpreted as comforting, or pitying. Taking her sister's hands, Jane said quietly, "Mr. Hampton wishes to see you in the library."

Unable to read anything further on her sister's face, and seeing that Jane was, in any case, not forthcoming with explanations, Elizabeth turned on her heel and was escorted to the library by a servant. When she reached the room, she found Mr. Hampton seated in a chair, leafing through a book. He looked up at her entrance.

"Is this not the most magnificent room you have ever seen?" he sighed. "In all my years, I have never seen its like for either quantity or quality of material. Mr. Darcy once told me that it was the work of many generations, and anyone can see that it has been a priority in his lifetime as well." Finally he stopped, for it was obvious that she had no interest in the state of the library, but the condition of its owner.

"The surgery went quite well," the doctor said, rising to pace the room. "It was not really much of a surgery, actually, hardly worthy of the name. As I suspected, all that prevented Mr. Darcy from regaining sight in his left eye was the growth of some tissue that had healed over the lid. Once I cut away that scar tissue, his lid was able to open once again. Embarrassingly simple, is it not? He has already indicated to me that he could see, and he identified the presence of Colonel Fitzwilliam quite readily. His vision is still a touch hazy from disuse, but I expect that to clear before long."

Elizabeth's relief was so great that she could do naught but drop into a chair and press her hands to her mouth.

"Although the laughing gas performed as well as I could have hoped during the operation, he was in considerable pain afterward. I gave him some laudanum, and he is now asleep in his room." Mr. Hampton ceased his pacing to look out the window, and continued, "Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do for his right eye. In my judgment, he will never again be able to see with that eye, and furthermore, he will have to wear a patch over it, for it is most disagreeable to behold. I imagine, though, the patch will give him a rakish look that will no doubt cause a great deal of swooning among the ladies and - who knows - might even become all the rage among the gentlemen of the ton."

"Thank you, Mr. Hampton," Elizabeth managed. "You have done precisely as you promised. And now, if you wish, you may announce our engagement."

"But that is hardly what you wish, is that not so, Elizabeth?"

Her face stony, she replied, "What I wish is immaterial. I made you a promise, sir, and I intend to keep it."

Mr. Hampton shook his head. "I should never have extracted such a promise from you, Elizabeth. I was so caught up in my own dreams that I ran roughshod over everyone else, especially you. It was most unworthy of the man I held myself to be, the man who was regarded by his peers and even his superiors with the utmost respect, the man my son has always looked up to." For the first time that day, he looked directly at her. "I release you from your promise, my dear. I hope that you and Mr. Darcy will be very happy together."

Elizabeth stared at him for confirmation, and he nodded.

"Mr. Darcy has made his feelings quite clear to me. At first, he even refused the surgery on your account."

"But how did he know of my agreement with you?"

"Your sister got word to him early this morning. Once he learned the truth, he said he would rather be blind, and ordered me from the house straightaway." Lowering his head, he added, "I did not realize, until Miss de Bourgh set me straight, how low I had sunk. You see, she heard us talking about you and was properly appalled. 'I thought you an honourable man,' she said. It was then that I was shocked back into reality, disgusted with myself, and I knew that I must not only perform the surgery, but also free you to the future that you desire." Mr. Hampton bit his lip and raised his head to look at Elizabeth. "I beg your pardon, my dear. I never intended to be so cruel and selfish. I pray that you will forgive me...that G-d will forgive me."

"You have my forgiveness, sir. I cannot speak for others, but I believe in redemption, if you are truly penitent." He nodded and Elizabeth smiled tremulously. "When might I see Mr. Darcy?"

"I believe he will sleep for quite some time. But if you wish, you may see him shortly." He then added impishly, "It is a pity he will not wake to see you right away, for under the influence of the laughing gas he spoke a great deal about you."

"Oh?" was all Elizabeth could say, for the colour flamed high in her face.

"Oh, yes. It was curious, actually. For someone who has never seen you, he had remarkably much to say about your beauty."

"I see," she whispered, aghast, wondering what Mr. Darcy might have revealed with his defences down.

"The Colonel in particular seemed mightily confused by this turn of events."

Elizabeth was further mortified. "The Colonel! Oh, what will he think of me? What can I say to him?"

"For one thing, I think it might be time to disabuse him of the notion that Mr. Darcy is in love with your sister."

"I suppose you are right," Elizabeth smiled in spite of her embarrassment. "As a matter of fact, Jane is now engaged to Mr. Bingley."

"Is she now! Well, I must offer my congratulations."

The two walked arm in arm back to the parlour, where once again Elizabeth was confronted with a roomful of people. This time, she went directly to her sister and embraced her, her eyes shining with joy. The verbal expression of Elizabeth's happiness, however, would have to wait for a more private moment, as there were too many strangers about for her comfort, and though all were pleased with the outcome of the surgery, only Georgiana was perfectly happy.

To be specific, Lady Catherine wore a dissatisfied air, which was a common but unattractive look for her. While she was sincerely glad that her nephew had survived his operation and would see again, she was peeved that it would render the marriage of Darcy and Anne less urgent, which is to say, less likely.

Miss Anne de Bourgh was quizzical, as the last she had heard, Mr. Darcy had refused the surgery on Miss Elizabeth Bennet's account. And yet the operation had already taken place, and Miss Elizabeth was looking rather more delighted than a woman should who was being forced to marry against her will. Perhaps Miss Elizabeth had decided that marriage to the doctor was a worthy notion after all, and this idea had Anne strangely vexed.

Colonel Fitzwilliam, too, was puzzled. Early that morning he had been awakened by a soft knock upon his bedroom door. When he had opened it to reveal Miss Jane Bennet, she had blushed prettily and whispered that she was in fact in desperate search of his cousin. Only too happy to help the lovebirds, and quite unable to control his mirth - much to Miss Bennet's discomfort - he had arranged a clandestine meeting for them in the library. He would have given a fortune to know what went on behind those closed doors, but being a gentleman, he had let the two have their time alone, for the hour of the surgery was growing nigh. When at last the door had swung open, he had noted that Miss Bennet bore a satisfied mien and his cousin a grave one. The Colonel had considered his mission of mercy a success.

Great then, was Fitzwilliam's mystification when, having just fallen under the influence of Mr. Hampton's nitrous oxide, Darcy had begun to croon the praises of Miss Elizabeth Bennet and, even more surprisingly, her physical beauty. After giddily rhapsodising on her facial features, he had continued,

"And her bosom! Ah, her sweet, sweet breasts, soft and full, with skin like satin to the touch."

The Colonel had glanced anxiously at the doctor then to see how he bore it. Although Fitzwilliam was a military man and therefore accustomed to hearing language of a much saltier variety, he had never before heard a gentleman thus describe another man's intended in the man's very presence. With said man wielding a wicked-looking knife, no less! Yet Mr. Hampton had somehow managed to ignore his patient's ravings.

But Fitzwilliam's disquiet was not to be soon abated, for Darcy had added, chuckling merrily,

"Her hips, too, beckon me, so perfectly rounded and pressed so wantonly against my own. Make haste, doctor, make haste, so that I might soon return to my Elizabeth's arms!"

Choking out an oath, the Colonel had sought to prevent Mr. Hampton from approaching with his knife, but the doctor had waved him away with an impatient gesture. "At ease, Colonel," he had said. "You need have no fear of me."

And greatly to Fitzwilliam's relief, the surgery had proceeded without incident, indeed was over within minutes, though he seemed in as much discomfort as his cousin by its conclusion. Even now, however, in the calm after the operation had been pronounced a triumph, he was still curious as to why and when Darcy had switched his preference to the younger Miss Bennet, and how Mr. Hampton had achieved such composure in the face of such a blatant insult to his young lady's honour.

Predictably, it was Lady Catherine who spoke first among the assembled in the parlour.

"Well, Mr. Hampton," she said, ignoring Elizabeth completely, "Colonel Fitzwilliam tells me that we are to congratulate you on the success of Darcy's surgery. So he will regain the use of his left eye? Splendid, most splendid. You have done our family a huge service." The pleasant words emanating from Lady Catherine's lips did not carry a correspondingly pleasant tone. The last thing she wanted was another reason for the doctor to grow more heroic in her daughter's estimation.

"Thank you, Lady Catherine. It is my great honour to serve the house of Darcy."

"And you will wish to be compensated accordingly, I suppose?" Her ladyship's tone was caustic. With Darcy incapacitated, she would take it upon herself to be the guardian of his purse, and would not allow this doctor, who seemed too clever by half, to take advantage of the situation.

"I will receive nothing beyond the knowledge that I have been of assistance to someone in need, as well as the additional medical understanding that I have gained from the experience."

"Indeed, sir?" Anne's tone was so uncharacteristically caustic that her mother at first did not know it was she who had spoken. "Is that all you will receive in return for your service?"

"Indeed, Miss de Bourgh," responded Elizabeth pointedly, with a tender smile for the young woman, for in fact she owed a great deal of her current happiness to Anne de Bourgh. "Mr. Hampton has asked nothing else in return."

Understanding dawned, and Anne's face lit up with a smile that made Elizabeth consider that perhaps the young heiress was not as dull and dreary as she had first thought.

Elizabeth now took the opportunity, while the doctor was fielding questions from the others, to address her sister directly.

"Thank you, Jane," she said in a heartfelt whisper.

The elder sister smiled serenely. "There is nothing I would not do to see you happy, Lizzy."

"Including having the good sense to betray my confidence!" Elizabeth laughed.

"When necessary," Jane retorted.

"Apparently you have not yet told Colonel Fitzwilliam of your engagement."

"The opportunity did not arise when we arrived yesterday, and it...suited my purposes this morning to have him ignorant of my status. But he is aware of it now," Jane pursed her lips mischievously, "as well as the true partiality of a certain other gentleman."

"I fear the Colonel became aware of that particular preference while Mr. Darcy was impaired by the laughing gas."

"Poor man!" Miss Bennet said with a sympathetic smile and a twinkle in her eye that belied her words. "Well, I hope his cousin's happiness will be worth a few moments of bewilderment. And now will you go up to see Mr. Darcy?"

Glancing over to Mr. Hampton, Elizabeth gave a questioning tilt of her head, and saw him nod in response. "Yes, I believe we will."

And so they did. Elizabeth was pleased to see a servant sitting with Mr. Darcy, but even more pleased when the doctor drew him outside the room for further instructions, leaving her alone with the sleeping patient. She walked over to the bed and looked upon him for the first time without his dressings, and she was delighted.

Although one of his eyes was covered by a patch, and the other was closed and still somewhat bloodied, swollen, and surrounded by rough scar tissue, she saw nothing but comeliness in the curve of his forehead, the arch of his brow, the luxurious length of his lashes. In short, she thought him the handsomest gentleman of her acquaintance, and it never occurred to her to wonder, as it had when they first met, what beauty he might have lost in the accident. To her, he was a man without fault.

Peeping over her shoulder to ensure that Mr. Hampton and the servant were still occupied, she leaned over and pressed a warm kiss to Mr. Darcy's lips. To her disappointment, he did not awaken like some character in a fairy tale. But she was satisfied with the evenness of his breathing and the coolness of his skin, knowing that he would awaken soon enough, and they could begin to plan their future together.

It seemed, then, that all was perfect in Elizabeth's world. That is, until the express arrived from Longbourn.

When at last Elizabeth and Mr. Hampton descended the stair to return to the others, they saw the little party - less Lady Catherine, who had gone off to instruct the servants in precisely what she expected for luncheon - in confusion. In particular, Jane appeared pale and distressed, and Georgiana no less so.

"Dearest Jane, what ever is the matter?" Elizabeth cried.

"Oh, Lizzy, we have just received the most dreadful news from home!"

Jane burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a few minutes could not speak another word. Elizabeth, in wretched suspense, could only embrace her sister and say something indistinctly of her concern. At length, Jane spoke again, but only to say, "Here. You must read it for yourself." And she thrust a letter toward Elizabeth.

A quick glance at the handwriting revealed that it was written by Mary. With shaking hands, Elizabeth sat down and read to herself:

My dear sisters,

Immediately after your departure from Hertfordshire, something occurred of a most unexpected and serious nature. I will not attempt to soften the blow, for it is a heavy one, indeed: our sister Lydia has eloped with Mr. Wickham!

"Dear Lord!" Elizabeth thought. "Not him!"

All we know for certain is that Lydia stole off the night you left for Derbyshire, leaving behind a note that said she planned to surprise us all by being the first among us to marry, and that her bridegroom would be in regimentals. It did not take long for us to determine to whom she referred, for though enjoyed the company of many of the officers - such that I had taken to warning her that her conduct was not entirely appropriate, or at the very least unbecoming - she had but one favourite. It was an easy matter, then, to confirm that Mr. Wickham had indeed left the regiment that night. I should add that he also left behind debts of honour accrued whilst gaming - to be sure, a wicked pastime, of which no good ever comes! - with fellow officers.

When news got to Colonel Forster of Mr. Wickham's disappearance, he immediately set about to trace their route. All the Colonel could determine is that they were last seen on the road to London. Imprudent as a marriage between Mr. Wickham and Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured it has taken place, for there is but too much reason to fear they are not gone to Scotland. Though Lydia's short letter gave us to understand that they were going to Gretna Green, something was dropped by Wickham's closest friend in the militia expressing his belief that W. never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all.

Our family's distress, as you can no doubt imagine, is very great. My father and mother believe the worst (and I must add for my part that I have never liked or trusted the man - neither his attractive countenance nor his pretty manners.). We are further grieved to find that Colonel F. is not disposed to depend upon their marriage; he shook his head when Kitty expressed her girlish hopes, saying he wished he had taken Colonel Fitzwilliam's warnings about the man more to heart.

Mama is really ill and keeps her room. Hill and I are both worn out from running to fetch her salts and tonics and such little things as she feels would soothe her misery. Though I offered to bring the vicar to condole with us, knowing that there could be no greater comfort than the word of the Good Book, she declined in such unusually offensive terms as I can only ascribe to her present wretchedness. As to my father, I never in my life saw him so affected. He is gone to London to ask my uncle's assistance in locating the wayward pair, though I cannot imagine that either of them will end with much success. I now must ask you two to make haste and come home, for it is beyond my capabilities to deal with Mama's nerves and Kitty's uneasy coughs, especially since neither wishes to hear my opinion on the subject, though I wish they would, for Fordyce's Sermons have much to say on the comportment of young ladies, proper and otherwise.

Your sister, Mary

"Oh, what are we to do!" Elizabeth cried, but restrained herself from saying more out of fear of revealing too much to the curious onlookers. She quickly discovered that it was too late for such apprehensions, however, as the looks on the faces of the others indicated that Jane had already blurted out the sad news to the room. Georgiana, with wide eyes and both hands pressed to her pallid cheeks, appeared the most affected. Belatedly Elizabeth recalled that Miss Darcy had been in some way involved with Mr. Wickham and that this intelligence had no doubt opened up old wounds. But Elizabeth could not fault Jane for having caused such grief to the young girl, for in keeping with Mr. Darcy's request for secrecy, Elizabeth had never revealed the relationship to her sister.

Elizabeth's distressed mien and Jane's ashen visage immediately drew Mr. Hampton's curiosity and concern. He was a rejected swain, true, but he was a doctor first and foremost. Though he would not dream of asking the contents of the letter, he did proffer his assistance as a physician, should the news be of a serious illness or injury.

Mr. Hampton's kind offer exacerbated Elizabeth's mortification. She had no desire to share intelligence of such an intimate nature with him, but she was aware that it would not be long before the rest of the group revealed to the doctor the details of their family's shame. And so she briefly told him of the woe which had befallen the Bennets.

"Are you not relieved that we are no longer promised, sir?" Elizabeth added bitterly.

"Nonsense, Elizabeth. There is still hope for your sister. Do you say they are suspected to be in London?"

"That is near as we can tell."

In the awkward silence that followed, Miss Darcy unexpectedly asked, "Is there anything at all I can do for you, Miss Bennet?" Of a sudden, she seemed to have recovered her senses, and had in a single moment grown much older and more responsible. She was apparently grateful for her own escape, and was ready to help another avoid the fate that she had avoided.

Elizabeth nodded tearfully. "We must be for home without delay. But how will we manage it?"

"You shall have the use of our carriage," the younger girl insisted immediately, the Colonel adding, "And I would be pleased to escort you home."

"I thank you both, that would be most kind."

"If you do not mind," Mr. Hampton said, "I would like to accompany you to Hertfordshire and continue on from there to London."

"Does not Mr. Darcy still need you?" Elizabeth asked, for despite her distress, she could not neglect the care of her beloved. If he chose not to renew his addresses, she would necessarily accept his decision. But he must recover.

"There is nothing more I can do for him. He will awake once the laudanum wears off and will need nothing but a few days spent in relative darkness as he slowly becomes accustomed to the light of day. I will trust Miss Darcy to see to it. Besides," he added, "there are things in London I must attend to. I have been away far too long."

Straightaway the servants were notified, and activity began to whirl around them. Elizabeth was torn between the need to leave as soon as possible - for it was already noon and they should make use of what daylight was left - and the desire to be at Pemberley when its master awakened. Unfortunately, Mr. Darcy persisted in his slumber, and it fell to Georgiana to deliver the unhappy news to her brother when he finally arose.

Lady Catherine, who had returned to the room just as arrangements were being made for the Bennet sisters' departure, was told by mutual agreement only that Mrs. Bennet had been suddenly taken ill and required her daughters' presence immediately. Despite her shallow expressions of sympathy, her ladyship was immensely pleased that the interlopers were departing, though she was less delighted that her nephew Fitzwilliam would be going as well. Still, she had the satisfaction of bidding farewell to the gallant Mr. Hampton, and seeing her daughter's face fall as the doctor bowed to take his leave of them. It was about time, she felt, to regain control of Anne's care; the girl had grown too independent of late. Furthermore, she had put on weight, which her cousin Georgiana thought was most becoming but which her mother thought gave her rather vulgar dimensions. The healthy glow in Anne's complexion her ladyship took to be the flush of an unwholesome excitement. Well, she would put an end to that.

And thus it was that immediately after a quick luncheon, the party took its leave, with Georgiana promising faithfully to execute the office with which she had been charged by Elizabeth, which was to be of all possible comfort to her brother and to explain in full the reasons behind the Bennets' hasty departure. Elizabeth was not well enough acquainted with Miss Darcy to trust her with a billet doux to be passed to her brother and had to content herself with requesting that Georgiana convey her sincerest regret at the necessity of leaving. She hoped her despondent visage would express that which she could not verbalise to the sister of her intended.

As the long trip south began, Mr. Hampton shared the carriage with the ladies while Colonel Fitzwilliam rode alongside enjoying the bite of the December air. There was little discussion within, as none of the travelers felt the occasion was right for light conversation. Still, when Jane dozed off, a deep frown wrinkling her perfect brow, the doctor could not help but note to Elizabeth in a whisper,

"Your sister seems particularly grieved."

"Can you not think of a reason why, sir?"

"My guess is that she fears Mr. Bingley will wish to call off their engagement."

"Then I would have to concur with your assessment," Elizabeth said curtly. She did not care to have this conversation with Mr. Hampton, and she looked out the window.

"As I have said before, Elizabeth, there is still hope for a happy end to this unfortunate situation. Besides, do you truly think Mr. Bingley so inconstant?"

Elizabeth turned back to face him. "I do not doubt for a moment Mr. Bingley's love for my sister, Mr. Hampton," she said tiredly. "If I doubt anything, it is his willingness to stand up to society, to risk his family's position so recently attained. His sisters will work upon him, for if he marries into disgrace, it will reflect badly upon them, and Miss Bingley still has high hopes for a good match. They will make him think the better of his engagement, and see him hustled off to London without delay." Tears formed in her eyes. "In truth, none of us will have any hope to marry well; what decent man will align himself with such a family?"

"You speak of you and Mr. Darcy now."

Biting her lip, she nodded. "It will be all the easier for him, as we have not announced any formal engagement."

"Surely you do not believe that he would abandon you because of Lydia's foolishness?"

"Why not? He even more than Mr. Bingley has his position in society to consider, and a younger sister to shield from scandal. And Mr. Wickham, of all people," she added dully, "has a history with the Darcy family which Mr. Darcy would be reluctant to revisit."

"And you think all this would turn Mr. Darcy away from you?"

"I do." Her tears spilled over.

The doctor shook his head. "Darcy is a fool if he spurns you on account of Lydia's imprudence."

"Is that not the way of the world, sir?"

"This world, perhaps," he said thoughtfully. "Elizabeth, I know this is not what you wish to hear, but should the worst indeed happen, I should like you to keep in mind that there is a place where a family embarrassment in a small corner of Hertfordshire would be no encumbrance to your leading a full and happy life."

Her moist eyes wide, Elizabeth replied incredulously, "Nova Scotia?"

"Precisely."

She would speak, would immediately insist that he refrain from suggesting such a thing - for had they not already unambiguously settled this very same issue? - but he interrupted her. "Please hear me out. I know your opinion on this matter; I am well aware that your affections lie elsewhere and would no longer wish to deny that. But remember, Elizabeth, the gossip of the Old World would not follow you to the New World. No one would know you there; there would no disapproving Meryton busybodies to ruin your future."

"I cannot...." she choked out.

"Hush. Say nothing to me right now. We shall all hope that this situation may still turn out for the best, and then we shall discuss it no more. I just want to give you another option."

Elizabeth's wretchedness was complete. Give her another option? He had given her yet another Hobson's choice - disgrace and spinsterhood in England or a loveless marriage in the Americas! She could hardly believe his temerity. Still, being half a world away from Hertfordshire took on an appeal it never had before...in fact, she wished herself in India at the very moment! She turned toward the window to hide her anguish from the doctor. The future looked black indeed.

All was darkness when Darcy awoke. His good eye open at last, he strained against the total gloom. Despite the soreness he still experienced about that eye, he was alarmed that perhaps he had dreamed the surgery, the success, the painfully bright but welcome sight of his cousin's countenance looming close over him, and he cried out in despair. But a moment later, his manservant pulled back the heavy curtains surrounding the bed, which had been drawn to protect the master from both the winter chill and the light of the room. Darcy caught the flicker of a single candle's light and squinted at its brightness.

"Mr. Darcy, sir, you are awake at last!" the valet exclaimed happily.

"So it would appear." The fear that he was still blind had disturbed him greatly, and he needed a moment to recover from the shock. But there in the candlelight was the reassuring if indistinct face of his long-time servant. Darcy smiled feebly. "Do fetch me a glass of water, Sutton."

"Right away, sir!"

Once Sutton had assisted him in washing the dryness from his mouth, Darcy leaned back against the pillows and asked, "What time is it?"

"Half past seven, Mr. Darcy. You have slept nearly the whole day away. Are you not hungry?"

Darcy had not considered it, but suddenly he was. "Ravenous." Yet even the thought of standing up made him lightheaded. "Have a tray brought up for me; alas, I do not yet feel well enough to dress." Reassured that he did indeed have his sight, he was now anxious to see a particular visage, one that he had only viewed in his dreams. But he could hardly request her appearance in his bedroom. Soon enough! he promised himself. "I do not believe I will be joining the party tonight," he sighed.

"I should say not, sir. Mr. Hampton left us with strict instructions that you are to introduce light back into the room very slowly, day by day, only at levels that you can easily tolerate. He told me that you are not to go downstairs for another few days at least." Seeing his master's disappointed look, the valet was quick to add, "But if you approve, I can ask Miss Darcy to come up for a visit."

Dear Georgiana! He had not seen her lovely face in months! "Thank you, Sutton. Please do." Suddenly something in the servant's last remark troubled him: Mr. Hampton left us with strict instructions... "And where is Mr. Hampton?"

"Gone, sir."

"Gone? What do you mean?"

"He has left for London, in the company of the Misses Bennet."

"They have gone, too?" Darcy could not hide his dismay. His voice rose both in pitch and volume. "Both of them?"

Unsure what to make of this uncharacteristic show of emotion from his master, Sutton said, "Yes, sir. Perhaps Miss Darcy would do better to explain. I will inform her that you wish to see her, while I fetch your tray." And he quickly bowed out of the room ere Mr. Darcy could speak further.

Darcy was distraught. "Why would she leave me? How could she leave me? Does she not love me?" Immediately he thought he knew the reason for her defection. "That damned weasel of a doctor!" he exclaimed heatedly to the empty room. "He has played me false! He begged me to let him do the surgery, assured me that he would release Elizabeth from her promise, and he lied, that scheming bastard!"

Throwing off his covers, he rose angrily if unsteadily to his feet, the frustrations of the past few months reaching their zenith. It was in this attitude that Georgiana found him moments later: his hair in disarray, his right eye behind a patch, his left eye gleaming and wild, his face swollen, his expression fierce. Were it not for his pallor and nightdress, she would have thought for all the world that she had come upon a pirate, and an ill-tempered one at that. It was a fearsome sight.

"Brother!" Georgiana cried, moving toward Darcy, who, for all his ferocious demeanour, seemed ready at any moment to collapse. "You should not be out of bed! Mr. Hampton said..."

"Damn Mr. Hampton!"

"William," she exclaimed, shocked, "your language!"

Ignoring her dismay, he persisted, "When did they leave?"

"Do you speak of the ladies, Mr. Hampton and Richard?"

"Of course, who else..." He was brought up short. "What, Fitzwilliam has gone, too? Confound it, what is happening here? Can I not sleep for a few hours without the entire household deserting me?"

"William, do be seated, and I shall explain everything."

Reluctantly seating himself on the edge of the bed, Darcy focused all his attention - and what vision he could muster, blinking, in the dim light - on Georgiana's face. His anger somewhat diminished by the recollection that the doctor had made the sight of his beloved sister possible, he said tenderly, "It is good to see you again, Georgiana."

"You can see me?"

He nodded, and she embraced him joyfully, careful not to touch his face where the surgery had left it tender. "Now, then, you promised me an explanation."

"Oh! It is too shocking! Miss Bennet received an express from home, begging the two of them to return without delay. William, something terrible has happened!"

All his fury had by now drained away, replaced by a cold dread. "Tell me."

"Their younger sister, Lydia has run away with... has thrown herself into the power of - of Mr. Wickham. They are gone off together from Hertfordshire. You know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to - the Bennets fear she is lost for ever."

Darcy was fixed in astonishment. "Wickham! Did we not warn them against that blackguard?" He raked his hand through his hair. "Oh, I am grieved, indeed," he cried; "grieved - shocked. But is it certain, absolutely certain?"

"Oh, yes! - Their sister Mary said that the couple left Hertfordshire together the night Miss Bennet and her sister departed Longbourn, and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to Scotland."

"And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?"

"Mr. Bennet is gone to London, and he will be aided in his search by their uncle. But they hold out very little hope." Her voice grew strained. "Oh, William, poor Lydia Bennet! There but for the grace of G-d..."

"And my timely intervention," Darcy added grimly. He clenched his jaw. "What then does this unfortunate incident have to do with Mr. Hampton?"

"Nothing at all, actually. I hope you will not mind, brother, but I sent the ladies back in our carriage, the new one. Mr. Hampton wished to return to Town, so he simply joined the ladies on the journey, that is all." She peered at him in the glow of the fireplace. "Why do you rail at Mr. Hampton? He has given you a great gift."

"Yes, he has," Darcy sighed. "Ah, never mind. You did exactly what I would have wanted you to, and Mr. Hampton...well, he did what was expedient, and I cannot blame him. So he is off to Town, is he? I would have preferred to be able at least to thank him." More softly, he added, "And I wish I could have bid goodbye to Miss Bennet."

"Oh! I almost forgot! Miss Elizabeth Bennet requested that I express to you her deepest regret at her ill-timed departure. Really, I thought that quite unnecessary, given the circumstances, but she insisted."

To Georgiana's great surprise, her brother smiled. "Thank you, my dear. That is the first piece of good news you have given me." To her quizzical look he did not respond, only glancing toward the door when the valet entered the room bearing a tray.

"Forgive the simple fare, Mr. Darcy, but Mr. Hampton suggested that you not eat too heavily upon awakening."

"Thank you, Sutton, I am certain that whatever you have brought will be acceptable. Now, sister, please do me the favour of rejoining our guests and telling them I am well. Will you reassure Lady Catherine in particular that I have suffered no ill effects and have my wits well about me?"

Georgiana grinned. "Of course." And, dropping a quick kiss upon his cheek, she quitted the room. Sutton made to bow and follow her, but Darcy stopped him.

"Do not leave, yet, Sutton, for there is one more task I would assign you."

The party bound for Hertfordshire, having encountered unexpectedly slow conditions whilst in transit, found the necessity of sleeping two nights on the road, and reached Longbourn by dinner-time the third day. When they arrived, they found house far too quiet, lacking the everyday bustle that the ladies were accustomed to. The only sound, save the ticking of the clock in the parlour, was the monotonous do-re-mi of scales as Mary sat practicing upon the pianoforte. She did not shift herself at all as the four entered the room, and only upon seeing her sisters accompanied by the doctor and the Colonel did she rise to perform a quick courtesy.

"Dear Mary!" Jane exclaimed, embracing her sister. "How does our poor mother?"

"The same, I fear," Mary intoned. She glanced askance at their guests.

"They are aware of our plight, Mary," Elizabeth said quietly. "Has there been any word from Papa?"

Mary shook her head. "None at all. But we expect only to hear from him if he has news to relate."

"And where is Kitty?"

"She is in her room, moping. She had hoped to pass some time with Maria Lucas today, but it would appear that Lady Lucas is less than enthusiastic about her daughter being in company with a Bennet girl right now." Her tone grew unusually sarcastic. "Perhaps she thinks that Maria would be sullied by association, or at the very least subject to a poor influence."

This is a pitiful state of affairs, indeed, thought Elizabeth, and the frown that had been her companion since they had received the appalling news grew deeper.

Leaving Mary to entertain the gentlemen, the eldest sisters mounted the stair and went to see their mother. There was, they suspected, little pleasure to be had in such a visit, and they were soon proved correct: Mrs. Bennet whined and wept and ranted, and in the end, to no-one's surprise, refused to come down to dinner. Ultimately Jane and Elizabeth were left to coax a morose Kitty from her room and bring her downstairs.

Dinner was served, and here again the group was unnaturally quiet. At the conclusion of the meal, the gentleman discussed removing to Netherfield, for it had been agreed while on the road that they would ask the Bingleys if they might impose upon them for just one night. But upon enquiring of Mary, they discovered to their common dismay that the Bingleys had quit the estate that very morning.

"I doubt that Mr. Bingley expected you back to Longbourn so very soon, Jane," Mary said sympathetically. "He left you this." And she handed her sister a note.

Jane stared at the missive and, mumbling "Pray excuse me," rose and fled the room.

With a quick glance and a nod at each other, the Colonel and Mr. Hampton immediately announced their intention of passing the night at the local inn. They promised to call early in the morning ere they departed for London, and bowed good night to the three remaining Bennet sisters. After their exit, Elizabeth went upstairs straightaway to see how Jane was faring.

It did not surprise her to find her sister in tears. For the second time that week, Jane held out a letter to Elizabeth, and bade her read it. It was poorly written - in the most careless way imaginable, in fact - but Elizabeth could read amongst the blots:

Dear Jane,

Hope you will forgive my not being in residence at Netherfield upon your return home. Urgent business calls me to Town. Will call on you when next I am in Hertfordshire.

Yours, Charles Bingley

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "To be sure, this is no love note. Yet I see no cause for despair."

"Is it not clear? He cannot bring himself to break off the engagement in person so he hies himself to Town and leaves this note behind to do the deed for him."

"Jane, this note says nothing of the sort. It seems to me that it was written in great haste, and therefore may imply that he has fled the neighbourhood for some mysterious reason of his own. It speaks not at all of Lydia's shame or any necessity of breaking off your engagement. Otherwise why beg your pardon for having gone before your arrival at Longbourn? And see here, he does not address you as Miss Bennet, but still affectionately as 'Dear Jane.' I know he still loves you. Perhaps he will even write again from Town."

Although Jane could see some sense in this reply, she could not readily accept such a cheerful conclusion. But Elizabeth represented to her sister as forcibly as possible what she felt on the subject, and had soon the pleasure of seeing its happy effect. Jane's temper was not desponding, and she was gradually led to hope, though the diffidence of affection sometimes overcame the hope, that Bingley would return to Netherfield and answer every wish of her heart.

Despite having finally persuaded Jane that there could be rational reasons for Mr. Bingley's desertion, when Elizabeth went to bed that night, she was faced with the return of her own doubts. She really believed in the steadfastness of Bingley's love for her sister, but as she had told Mr. Hampton, she was worried about the influence of his sisters and society's disapproval. Oh, how she wished Mr. Bingley had waited but another day to retreat to London, so that Jane need not suffer this additional burden!

Days passed, and the hopes of the ladies at Longbourn dwindled, for they heard nothing from Mr. Bingley, Mr. Bennet or Mr. Gardiner. Instead, they had such company as would hardly serve to comfort them: Mrs. Phillips visited them frequently, and always, as she said, with the design of cheering and heartening them up, though as she never came without reporting some fresh instance of Wickham's extravagance or irregularity, she seldom went away without leaving them more dispirited than she found them.

Elizabeth, though she did not credit above half of what was being said throughout Meryton, believed enough to make her former assurance of her sister's ruin still more certain; and even Jane, who believed still less of it, became almost hopeless, more especially as the time was now come when, if they had gone to Scotland, which she had never before entirely despaired of, they must in all probability have gained some news of them. Further, Jane no longer believed in Elizabeth's assurances of Mr. Bingley's constancy, and had begun to accept the worst.

When, more than a week after the Bennet sisters' return to Longbourn, their mother received a letter from their father, the family held its collective breath in morbid anticipation. The four girls trooped upstairs together to Mrs. Bennet's room and stood, long-faced, as Jane prepared to read the missive.

My dear Mrs. Bennet,

I had not expected it myself, but I send you news that has brought me some small satisfaction, if - and I hope you will excuse my reticence - not outright pleasure. Lydia and Mr. Wickham are found at last.

"Then it is as I always hoped," cried Kitty; "they are married!"

They are not married, nor can I find there was any intention of being so; but now it will not be long before they are. Our estimable Mr. Hampton was the instrument of their discovery, and, through what means we cannot conceive, has persuaded Mr. Wickham to do the right and proper thing.

"Mr. Hampton!" exclaimed Elizabeth, alarmed. Why had the doctor involved himself in their affairs...and what would he expect in return?

We have judged it best that Lydia should be married from my brother's house, for there is little time to waste in correcting this unfortunate situation. She comes to Gracechurch Street to-day and we expect that she will be married within the fortnight, as soon as the banns are published.

How we will ever repay Mr. Hampton for his kindness, I know not. But perhaps our Lizzy will have some notion of how best to accomplish it.

Your devoted husband &c.

Mrs. Bennet could hardly contain herself. As soon as Jane had read Mr. Bennet's expectation of Lydia's being soon married, her joy burst forth, and every following sentence added to its exuberance. "My dear, dear Lydia!" she cried: "This is delightful indeed! - She will be married! - I shall see her again! - She will be married at sixteen! - How I long to see her! and to see dear Wickham too! But the clothes, the wedding clothes! I will write to your father about them directly. Ring the bell, Kitty, for Hill. I will put on my things in a moment. My dear, dear Lydia! - How merry we shall be together when we meet!" She paused only long enough to draw breath, and then commenced another assault on the girls' sensibilities.

Sick of this folly, Elizabeth slipped out and took refuge in her own room, that she might think with freedom.

Though much good would certainly result from this turn of events - Lydia's reputation saved, Jane's engagement no longer in danger - Elizabeth was not insensible to the evils of such a resolution. For Lydia, neither rational happiness nor worldly prosperity could be justly expected from a marriage to Mr. Wickham; yet the girl's foolishness had brought such misfortune upon herself. But Elizabeth had far greater concerns, and those were for own future. Surely Mr. Darcy would never condescend to marry her now, not with a new brother in Mr. Wickham, the man whom he and his entire clan held in such contempt for his inexcusable conduct with Miss Darcy. Although Elizabeth had not yet heard the full story, she could surmise well enough that Mr. Wickham had attempted a seduction upon the young girl, which had apparently been foiled. No, she thought tearfully, there would be no way that Mr. Darcy could ever welcome her into his family.

Then there was the matter of Mr. Hampton. That Mr. Bennet felt indebted to the physician was plain. That he expected Elizabeth soon to announce their engagement had become most painfully obvious. Alone in her room, her head in her hands, she wondered how she could possibly escape the inevitable.

To the surprise of all at Longbourn, five days later an imposing coach arrived, empty save for a manservant. The driver said he had been instructed by Mr. Gardiner to carry to London such of the ladies who wished to make the journey to attend Lydia's wedding. No-one in the family could recall Mr. Gardiner having such a grand carriage; though it was not of recent vintage, it was very fine, and very comfortable indeed. Elizabeth decided that, despite her objections to the groom and the manner in which Lydia was to become wed, not to mention her fears that her father would take the opportunity to insist that she marry Mr. Hampton, she and Jane should certainly go, as they still loved her sister and wished to be with her at this momentous time. Besides, it might afford Jane the opportunity to see Mr. Bingley and know once and for all if he intended to proceed with their engagement. Kitty, of course, longed to go to Town, though her excitement was due more to the ready availability of shops and gentlemen than to her sister's upcoming nuptials. Mary would have refused on moral grounds, but their mother insisted that they should all be present. They had missed celebrating Christmas, after all, in their despair over Lydia, and would now have the opportunity to make merry for the best of reasons.

So the following morning, all five of them bundled into the coach and headed to London. Upon their arrival, the ladies greeted Lydia with great displays of affection, though it might be noted that Mary, Jane and Elizabeth all refrained from such fulsome exclamations about the upcoming wedding as Mrs. Bennet and Kitty were wont to give. Elizabeth was relieved to see Mr. Hampton was not among the party at Gracechurch Street, but her relief was short-lived, as she discovered that he was to be an honoured guest at dinner that evening.

When the doctor did arrive, Elizabeth was not among those who gathered 'round him to thank him effusively for his cleverness and generosity on their family's behalf. During dinner she said little to him that was not completely necessary. Finally, after dinner they were thrown together as the rest of the family, trying very hard not to stare, pointedly gave them what little privacy was accorded by a settee in the corner of the parlour.

Under the cover of Mary's performance on the pianoforte, Mr. Hampton leaned toward his companion and said in a low voice, "You seem uneasy in my presence, Elizabeth."

"My father indicated..." she said, her voice faltering, "that we are greatly in your debt for your assistance in restoring Lydia to us."

"Not at all. I had very little to do with it, in fact."

This was hardly the answer Elizabeth expected. She glanced at the doctor quizzically.

"My dear," he said, "surely you did not think that it was I who worked this miracle!"

"It was not?"

"No, Elizabeth, it was not. It was your Mr. Darcy."

"Mr. Darcy!"

"Yes, he did it all: stalked the wayward duo, discovered where they were concealed, and entered into some rather strenuous negotiations to encourage Mr. Wickham to marry your sister. Laid out quite a sum of money to bring it about, too, but he would rather that I not speak of that."

"Mr. Darcy, the instrument of Lydia's salvation!" she exclaimed with emotion. What exertions he must have endured, what mortifications he must have borne, dealing so intimately with a man he loathed! she thought. And paying who knows what to bribe Mr. Wickham to do his duty, all on behalf of a girl he could neither regard nor esteem. Her admiration quickly turned to distress, and she said aloud, "He has done so much, suffered so much for us, but oh! How will we ever repay him?"

In a gesture sure to be misunderstood by the other occupants of the room, Mr. Hampton took her hand. Very tenderly, he said, "Do you not see? It was all for you, my dear! Mr. Darcy is so determined to make you his bride, there is no undertaking so great, no indignity so unbearable that he would not tolerate it to bring you to the altar."

"You should not speak so," Elizabeth whispered, blushing hotly both out of embarrassment and pleasure. Anxious to change the subject, she continued, "And yet, when last I saw him, he seemed quite unequal to such an onerous task."

"While it is true that he was not as strong as I would have liked him to be at the outset, I think the man would have easily proved himself ready for battle."

"And you say you had no role at all?"

"Oh, I confess that I did assist in my own way, helping Mr. Darcy navigate in some of the seamier neighbourhoods." At her curious look, he elaborated, smiling, "I have many contacts in Town who are in - if I may put this delicately - the lower classes of society, in districts with which he and Colonel Fitzwilliam would not be familiar. For, you see," he chuckled, "I have not always been a doctor to the ton."

"But why involve yourself at all in the affairs of a family so wholly unconnected to yourself?"

"When Mr. Darcy came to my office to thank me for his recovered sight and request one last examination, he told me that he planned to go in search of your sister, as he had a notion of some treacherous individual in London who might have assisted them in evading detection. (Apparently this is not the first time Mr. Wickham has run afoul of decent society.) At first I attempted to discourage him in the strongest possible terms. I did not believe a man in his condition should be poking about in such unsavoury places as he suspected they were hiding; he could so easily be taken unawares by some miscreant. But he would brook no refusal, and, the colonel having been called back to his regiment, I could not, in clear conscience, allow him to go alone. Besides, I considered it my penance for behaving in such an outrageous manner toward you. Remember, you told me you believed in redemption? Well, for my small part perhaps I may hope to consider myself redeemed."

Elizabeth nodded, her throat too tight for speech.

"After Mr. Darcy had completed his negotiations with Wickham, he faced another dilemma: how best to inform your family. Though you had been visiting his sister, your father knew nothing of Mr. Darcy's existence. Imagine Mr. Bennet's mortification if a complete stranger had taken it upon himself to find his daughter and the rake with whom she had eloped. Why, he might never recover from the embarrassment! So it fell to me - conveniently enough, someone whom Mr. Bennet already held in high regard - to accept the gratitude of your family, a mantle I wear most uncomfortably, as it is completely undeserved. But Mr. Darcy is content to remain in the shadows. I have introduced him to your uncle and father, by the way, and all they know of him is that he is the very wealthy brother of your hostess Miss Darcy, cousin to Colonel Fitzwilliam, and a good friend of Mr. Bingley."

"Pray, where is Mr. Darcy now?"

"He is at his townhouse, beside himself with excitement that you are expected in London. I expect he will call tomorrow morning." Mr. Hampton grinned slyly at her. "Did you enjoy your trip in his coach?"

"His coach? But it was not the carriage which brought us from Derbyshire..."

"Come, now, did you think such a wealthy man would have but the one? Your relations think it is mine, a gift from a grateful client. Mr. Darcy was so amused by this conceit, I think he is likely to give it to me after all."

Another thought struck her. "We have almost despaired of hearing anything of Mr. Bingley. Have you seen him here?"

The doctor shook his head. "You must know that we move in very different circles, Elizabeth. This is not the country; I would not feel comfortable calling upon him in Town. Surely you may ask Mr. Darcy when you see him tomorrow."

"Tomorrow..." she whispered.

But there was still this evening to be got through. For a while, Mary's recital and Lydia's enthusiastic descriptions of her brief escapade had distracted the Bennets and Gardiners, but one by one, the members of her family forgot their efforts to leave Elizabeth and Mr. Hampton in peace, and began to stare and smile knowingly both at the couple and at each other. By the time the doctor left the house, the entire family, save Jane (who knew more accurately where her sister's feelings lay), and Lydia (who cared only for her own matrimonial plans), stood expectantly, aglow with the anticipation of another nuptial announcement. Alas, they were destined to be disappointed.

"Well, Lizzy," Mrs. Bennet demanded once the door had closed behind Mr. Hampton. "Tell us once and for all: are you engaged to him?"

"I am not."

Her mother was disappointed, but she had not yet had her say. "Well, will you promise me, that you will soon enter into such an engagement?"

"I will make no promise of the kind." Elizabeth was irritated beyond all reason. The sooner her family accepted that she was not to marry Mr. Hampton, the better.

"What! Obstinate, headstrong girl! Mr. Bennet! What say you to this unruly child?"

Now her father entered the fray. "I think you have had enough time, Lizzy. Does not Mr. Hampton deserve to hear your answer?"

"He knows my answer, Papa. Mr. Hampton and I will not be wed."

A gasp issued from many in the room. "Lizzy, I am seriously displeased," Mr. Bennet said, his countenance clouded, as Mrs. Bennet dropped into a chair and bade Jane fetch her salts. "What possible reason could you have for refusing such an eligible offer?"

Elizabeth was at a loss to explain her devotion to Mr. Darcy, when her father did not even know that she had met the gentleman. "Papa, please," she sighed. "It has been a long day. Could we not defer this inquisition until tomorrow? All will become clear then." She looked pleadingly to Jane.

"Yes, Papa," Jane said, picking up on her sister's cue. "We are all so very tired from our journey. Shall we not retire? Lizzy can explain herself tomorrow."

"Very well," their father scowled. "I will listen to your reasoning on the morrow. But you must know, surely you know, where I stand: Mr. Hampton is the finest gentleman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. And we all owe him a great deal."

Lydia's snort at this remark was taken by her family to be merely part of her general disdain for the doctor - who was, she had not been shy about remarking, far too old to be interesting - while in fact it was due to her knowledge of the true identity of the gentleman who had contrived her upcoming marriage to her dear Wickham. Fortunately for Mr. Darcy, however, the tension in the room was so thick that her behaviour went unanswered, and the entire family retired shortly thereafter, with no-one satisfied.

The next morning, after the family had breakfasted, an impatient Mr. Bennet turned to his second eldest and, his eyebrows raised and his arms folded across his chest, demanded, "Well, Lizzy?"

Fortunate it was for Elizabeth, then, that at that very moment a servant arrived to announce visitors, and Mr. Hampton entered the room, accompanied by Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth's heart caught in her throat when she saw his handsome person, and she studied him minutely, greedily: the immaculate garments which fitted him disturbingly well; the abundant dark hair, expertly coiffed yet somehow still charmingly unruly; the white, even teeth as he began to smile; the eye-patch which concealed his disfigurement - but which, it must be said, gave him the breathtaking air of a swashbuckler - and finally, the bright and thickly-lashed left eye, which, upon glancing briefly upon each woman of the room in turn, finally settled upon her and widened with pleasure.

Thus, after greeting Mr. Bennet and the Gardiners cordially, and being presented to Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Darcy shocked the assembled by striding directly over to Elizabeth and, taking her hand, bowed and placed a warm kiss upon it.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I presume?" he said in a low voice, his eye never leaving her face.

"How did you know?" she whispered back, blushing, all too conscious of the stares around her.

"Let us just say that my imagination has served me better than I had dared hope." Leaving her to her confusion and even higher colour, he next bowed politely to Jane, who was unmistakably the beauty who had so besotted Bingley, and with a delighted smile, acknowledged, "Miss Bennet." He then turned to the curious family and explained, "I had the pleasure of meeting Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth when I called upon Mr. Bingley at Netherfield and was in their company again during their too-brief visit to my home in Derbyshire. Their departure was distressing to all of us at Pemberley, and I am gladdened to see them both in good health...indeed, the entire family in good health."

The rest of the introductions were made, and Mrs. Bennet was soon eaten up with curiosity over this newcomer. "He could have been a magnificent man," she said privately to her sister-in-law. "What a pity, then, that his face is scarred, and he is not completely whole! I wonder how he lost his eye. Dare we enquire? What do you know of him?" But when Mrs. Gardiner murmured back that she knew only that Mr. Darcy had one of the largest estates in all of Derbyshire, an exceptionally fine house in Town, and ten thousand a year, Mrs. Bennet decided on the spot that she could overlook his defects. Indeed, she thought him most handsome. Moreover, she felt that somehow he treated them as if he knew them all well, despite having been just introduced. Perhaps, thought the Bennet matriarch with her usual calculation, she could interest him in Kitty.

As the room grew loud with conversation, Darcy approached the table where Elizabeth was sitting with Jane; and, while pretending to admire her needlework said in a whisper, "I intend to ask for an audience with your father ere I leave this house."

Smiling conspiratorially, Jane rose and crossed the room to speak to Mr. Hampton, leaving the two alone in their corner of the room. Darcy sat down in the seat Jane had vacated.

"Do you not think it too soon?" Elizabeth asked him nervously. "I have yet to explain to him why I do not plan to marry Mr. Hampton."

"Precisely, then, why I must act quickly. There will be no need to explain yourself once I have asked for your hand." He smiled tenderly at her. "Besides, Elizabeth, this experience has taught me that it is best not to delay that which is most important, for one never knows what the morrow will bring."

She nodded in understanding. With a quick glance at her eldest sister, then, she added, "That being the case, Mr. Darcy, I think it best if I ask you now if you have seen anything of Mr. Bingley since you have been in Town."

Darcy's smile fled. "I have."

"And what can you tell us of him?"

"I will tell you this: I saw him two days ago, and I have informed him that I think him a fool, and a coward of the worst sort."

"What!"

"Elizabeth, upon hearing of your sister Lydia's...adventure...Mr. Bingley allowed himself to be persuaded by his sisters that he had best remove himself from Hertfordshire pending the result of the elopement. Had the situation not been so happily resolved, I have no doubt that he was prepared to break off the engagement. Not because he has any less respect or admiration for your sister Jane, but because has bowed to his sisters' influence and the pressures of society. I am disgusted with him, because he did not even have the civility to await the resolution before quitting Netherfield. So I told him that if he will not make of himself a man and beg Miss Bennet's forgiveness, then I will have nothing more to do with him." At Elizabeth's furrowed brow, Darcy softened and added, "Do not fret, my love. I have reason to hope that he will realize his error and return to your sister...if she will still have him."

Realizing that the time for a proper visit had come and gone, Darcy rose and bowed to Elizabeth, pressing another kiss upon her hand. Then he turned and said to her father, "Mr. Bennet, may I beg a word before I go?"

Elizabeth's agitation on Mr. Darcy's interview with her father was extreme. She did not fear Mr. Bennet's opposition, but he was going to be made unhappy; and that it should be through her means - that she, his favourite child, should be distressing him by her choice: that is, a man who was not Mr. Hampton - was a wretched reflection, and she sat in misery until this same gentleman wandered over and sat beside her.

"So the time has come, eh, Elizabeth? Ah, I do envy your Mr. Darcy, but I begrudge him nothing at all. He has won your heart, which I had been unable to do, and together you deserve every happiness." He tilted his head and looked at her curiously. "Why, then, do you appear in such low spirits?"

She smiled weakly. "Mr. Hampton, you are kind to wish us joy, but I fear that my father may not be of the same mind."

Chuckling, the doctor patted her hand. "I would not be anxious on Mr. Darcy's account, my dear. I have found him to be very persuasive, and I have no doubt that your father will be quite won over, if not utterly overwhelmed."

Still, Elizabeth could not be easy until Mr. Darcy appeared again, and she was a little relieved by his smile.

"Worry not, Elizabeth," he said softly. "I will see you tomorrow." And with a nod to Mr. Hampton, and a last, yearning, look at his beloved, he was gone directly, followed in short order by the doctor, who made his quick goodbyes.

When Elizabeth joined her father in Mr. Gardiner's library, he was walking about the room, looking grave and anxious. "Lizzy," said he, "what are you doing? Are you out of your senses, to be accepting this man? He is a stranger to us all. What could you possibly know of him?''

How earnestly did she then wish that Mr. Darcy had presented himself to the neighbourhood of Meryton during his stay at Netherfield, despite his affliction! It would have spared her from explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give; but they were now necessary, and she assured her father, with some confusion, of the depth of her attachment to Mr. Darcy. Relating that her affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many months' suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities, she hoped to conquer her father's incredulity, and reconcile him to the match.

He listened to what she had to say, and replied, "In other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be sure, and you may have the finest clothes and carriages. But will they make you happy?"

"Have you any other objection to Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, "than what you consider to be the brevity of our acquaintance?''

"None at all. His connections are outstanding, of course, and it eases my mind knowing that he is both cousin to Colonel Fitzwilliam and friend to Mr. Bingley. Although," he continued sourly, almost as an aside, "I hardly know if Mr. Bingley's imprimatur is worth anything these days." Collecting himself once again, he added, "But I would encourage you to think carefully, my dear. I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband; unless you looked up to him as a superior. Surely, this is something you could say about Mr. Hampton."

Elizabeth sighed. This was, she knew, going to be the most difficult part. "Papa, I have no desire or intention to marry Mr. Hampton, though he is a fine gentleman. Mr. Darcy is the one I love...and he loves me." At his silence, she continued tentatively, "Do not worry that my marriage to Mr. Darcy will break Mr. Hampton's heart, Papa. He has never spoken of love to me. To him I am only an amiable companion, an acceptable replacement for his true love, his first wife. He wishes me to be the comfort of his old age, and I have no wish to comply."

"He has been a real friend to us, Lizzy. We owe him much."

"Would you then marry off your daughter out of a sense of obligation, rather than in accordance with her wishes?"

"No, but who could help but favour the man after what he has done for Lydia?"

Elizabeth then told him what Mr. Hampton had related to her regarding Mr. Darcy's role in Lydia's rescue, not omitting the doctor's own participation. Her father heard her with astonishment.

"If what you say is true, and Darcy was responsible for the larger part, then Mr. Hampton is dressed in borrowed feathers, and I must say I am most disappointed in him."

Patiently Elizabeth explained to her father how Mr. Darcy insisted that the doctor take credit for deeds that were not his own. In the end Mr. Bennet could but shake his head bemusedly.

"Well, these violent young lovers carry every thing their own way. I shall offer to pay him tomorrow; he will rant and storm about his love for you, and there will be an end of the matter."

"Does that mean that you will give us your consent?"

Mr. Bennet smiled ruefully. "If you truly love the man, Lizzy, then who am I to stand in your way?" With a cry, Elizabeth rushed to embrace him. "I promised your Mr. Darcy that I would give him a reply tomorrow, after I had the opportunity to speak with you. I trust that will be soon enough to announce your engagement?"

Her eyes filled with grateful tears, Elizabeth replied, "It is, Papa. Thank you."

"Meanwhile," Mr. Bennet said, his own eyes brimming, "what ever am I to say to our Mr. Hampton?"

"Today at least, you need say nothing at all, for he is already gone. But allow me to allay your concerns and say that Mr. Hampton had already generously stepped aside for Mr. Darcy. The doctor is indeed a worthy gentleman, Papa, just not the one for me."

When Darcy arrived back at his townhouse, not entirely disappointed but by no means completely satisfied with his interview with Mr. Bennet, he was astounded to find that Mr. Bingley awaited him and indeed had been waiting for a good hour.

"How went your call on the Bennets, Darcy?" Bingley asked cheerfully, though he could not hide his nervousness, especially when his friend looked at him with raised brows.

"Very well," Darcy replied. "I shall always treasure my first sight of Elizabeth, and the look she gave me when I recognized her."

"You recognized her? Come, how is that possible?"

In fact, Darcy was at quite a loss to describe to his friend just how it was that, upon setting his eye upon a young lady for the very first time in a salon filled with ladies both young and not-so-young, knew immediately that she was the one to whom he had pledged his heart. Not because he could not explain his reaction, but because he would not: he would not reveal to Bingley how his body had told him the truth, how a combination of Mr. Hampton's early description, his own lonely imaginings and particularly the skill of his hands upon her face and body had drawn him irrevocably to the petite but shapely brunette across the room.

Yes, he had thought the minute her espied her, that could be none other than my Elizabeth! See her lively eyes - how they light up at my entrance! - her delicate cheekbones, her sensual lips, and oh! how my hands ache to caress again the lush curves of that comely bosom! I could not be mistaken...and I am indeed a fortunate man!

Even now his blood surged to think about Elizabeth and his delight in realizing that he had correctly surmised a great deal about her lovely face and figure. But displaying admirable self-control, and only slightly heightened colour, he addressed Bingley thus:

"When you are truly devoted to a lady, Bingley, she could be completely hidden from your sight and you would still find her." Darcy frowned at his friend. "Can you say as much about Miss Bennet?"

Blanching, Bingley started, "Of course, Darcy, but you do not understand..."

"Understand what? The demands of one's family? The strictures of society? Yes, I understand them all too well. But where love and honour are concerned, Bingley, your promise to your lady must come first. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Have you decided to hie yourself to Gracechurch Street and reaffirm your commitment to Miss Bennet, or to release her to find another gentleman who will be more worthy of her?"

"Another gentleman! My angel, marry another? Never!" Aghast, he shook his head. "I came to tell you that I plan to call upon them first thing tomorrow and beg her to set the date."

Darcy smiled broadly. "Now there is the Bingley I know and respect! We shall go together. If all went well this morning with Elizabeth's father, I expect to be able to announce our engagement on the morrow."

Back at the Gardiners' townhouse, Elizabeth was dizzy with delight. The only blemish upon her happiness was the insecurity of Jane's future, and silently she railed at Mr. Bingley for not having her own beloved's strength of character and surety of purpose. She remained resolutely enigmatic on the subject of Mr. Darcy in front of her relations, however, despite their interest in her acquaintance with the newcomer, as she was waiting for the opportunity to inform Jane alone of her news. So Elizabeth made it her business that day only to see to her sister's comfort. When she did find a chance to share her good fortune, Jane was characteristically enthused on Lizzy's behalf and spoke not at all of her own worries, though Elizabeth knew they could never be far from her thoughts.

Mr. Darcy's unexpected appearance, meanwhile, had sufficiently dazzled their mother into forgetting - for the time being - her annoyance that her second daughter had not agreed to marry Mr. Hampton. It would not be until late that night, however, after the family had retired, when Mrs. Bennet would be apprised by her husband of the approval given to the stranger to marry this headstrong child, and her initial disbelief would give way to unrestrained - and mortifying, had they been public - exclamations of joy, which Elizabeth could not help but overhear in the room adjoining her own:

"Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me! Mr. Darcy - you say he has loved her for months? Who would have thought it! And is it really true? Oh! my sweetest Lizzy! how rich and how great she will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages she will have! I am so pleased - so happy. Such a charming man! - so handsome! so tall! (Though how unfortunate that he is disfigured, but only a very little, and that will hardly matter; he is certainly good enough for her.) Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Every thing that is charming! Two daughters married...three if Mr. Bingley would ever come back! Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of me. I shall go distracted."

The next morning, as early as could reasonably be called proper, the Gardiners and Bennets received two fine-looking gentleman callers. Darcy sought out Elizabeth's cherished face immediately and was rewarded with a bright smile and a charming nod, which told him all he needed to know. In fact, her whole family rushed to congratulate him, for apparently Mrs. Bennet had found herself quite unable to keep the engagement secret for the duration of breakfast, and had announced it herself over the cold meat and toast. Gratefully sitting himself down next to his favourite, Darcy grasped Elizabeth's hand and kissed it warmly, with the intention of not relinquishing it until the visit would necessarily come to an end.

A tense Mr. Bingley found his reception somewhat cooler, confronted as he was with two households' worth of widened eyes. Without delay, he asked for a moment alone with Jane, and was granted an audience in an adjoining room. All assembled watched in silence as the two disappeared, and then broke out in an uproar of speculation.

Whilst her relations buzzed about Mr. Bingley's return, Elizabeth found herself and Mr. Darcy ignored, which suited her admirably. She was thus able to enjoy the eager warmth of his gaze and his tender whispered endearments without much discomfiture, though she did blush excessively and return his gaze with such unseemly encouragement that an astute chaperone might have found it prudent to clear his throat to separate them.

"Well, Mr. Darcy," she said in a low voice, "It is too late now! You have finally seen me in the light of day, and if, perhaps, you do not find me handsome enough to tempt you, and have changed your mind about marrying me, you see you will have to contend with the combined wrath of all my relations."

"Not find you handsome enough to tempt me!" he laughed in response. "What a simpleton I would have to be to harbour such a sentiment! No, my love, I must confess that you tempt me far too greatly, and had we just a modicum of privacy, I would show you exactly how much." Leaning closer, he added in a whisper that tickled her ear, "You have not yet experienced the fullest extent of my passion."

It was at this that her colour did rise in her cheeks, and she could but bite her lip in both embarrassment and giddy anticipation. She thought it would be best at this time to change the topic of the conversation to their wedding plans.

During the time when Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were thus agreeably engaged, the remainder of the household carried on a lively debate over the likely outcome of the conversation taking place between the other affianced couple in the house. Though all were hopeful of a favorable conclusion, not all were feeling certain of either Mr. Bingley's intent or Jane's willingness to absolve him. Happy for the entire family it was, then, that Jane and Mr. Bingley re-entered the parlour hand in hand, smiling affectionately at each other and at the assembled, causing Mrs. Bennet to cry out, with more feeling than sense,

"Lord be praised! They will be married after all! Oh! Three daughters married! Let the gossips all talk in Hertfordshire now, for they will say: 'There go the Bennets, the most fortunate family in the neighbourhood!' Ha! How I love the sound of it."

Jane and Elizabeth, horrified, looked at their fiancés to see how they bore their mother's shameful inanity, but seeing that the gentlemen, each with a half-smile, bore it tolerably well, were then able to relax and enjoy this happiest of hours. Only Lydia saw occasion to pout, as she was no longer the only treasured bride-to-be, but now as one of three, she had nothing to distinguish herself save that her wedding day was already set for tomorrow week, and the others had yet to choose a date.

And when that special day for the youngest Bennet daughter finally arrived, the groom did as well, much to the relief of those who knew him best. It had been a particular wish of Darcy's to conduct Mr. Wickham to the wedding; their future mother-in-law thought it a lovely gesture of brotherly consideration on Mr. Darcy's part, but Mr. Bennet knew better. And if Darcy had motives other than friendship for standing up for Wickham during the ceremony, well, only a few in the assembly were the wiser.

After the ceremony was complete, the two men faced each other, one step closer to being brothers. It did not sit well with either. "Well, Darcy," said Wickham with forced joviality, "we shall be for a new home and a new regiment in Newcastle almost immediately, thanks to you."

"Had I been able to find for you a regiment going to New South Wales," replied Darcy, "I would have done. Newcastle is not nearly far enough away for my taste. Meanwhile, you do have me to thank, else you might have ended in a debtors' prison."

Scowling, Wickham cast about for another angle with which to needle his nemesis and spying Elizabeth, said with a leer, "I have yet to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials. I regret that I will be unable to attend the wedding, for I dearly looked forward to kissing the bride."

Darcy said mildly, "It is indeed fortunate that that very pleasant task falls to me instead."

"Upon seeing your pretty face thus spoilt, she might now regret not having gotten to know me more intimately, for surely she would prefer a man that is whole."

Although he refused to rise to the bait, Darcy could not keep the edge from his voice. "Miss Bennet is sensible enough to recognize that outward appearance is no reliable indicator of inner goodness. Besides," he continued more gently as his fiancée sent him an affectionate gaze from across the room, "she has never known me otherwise, for we did not meet until after my unfortunate accident, and still she looks upon me as if there were naught amiss." He could not resist adding pointedly, "I assure you, she has found nothing lacking."

Wickham sneered. "No doubt your fortune was a great inducement, then."

"On the contrary, I believe she thought my fortune made me over-indulged and disagreeably proud."

"Come, now, Darcy, will you not face the truth and see that you are now an object of pity?"

Darcy laughed and shook his head. "No, Wickham, you will not shake me; despite my physical imperfections, I have never been happier. It is you who should be pitied. You will never know more of a person than what you see on the surface, and you will never know true joy in marriage, though I shall wish your bride the best of luck, for she will need it." And having fired his parting shot, Darcy turned on his heel to join his beloved, without a backward glance.

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