Aaaand, I have managed to keep my promise of updating twice this week! Hurray!
Do you know who are the best people on this planet? Betas! (You will know by the end of this fic at the rate I'm going). All thanks goes to Linda and Jim! (And all mistakes remaining are mine, so hurl them rotten tomatoes at me!)

That and you cannot spell "University" without "Alcohol" (trust me, I'm an undergraduate myself). Therefore, let the booze flow aplenty in this chapter! Without ado, I present you:

Chapter 8: A Water Party (and Some Mishaps)

Mr. Darcy and Elliot were amongst the last to arrive at Saturday's water party. They had not intended to tarry —indeed they made it just in time— but by their arrival the party had already begun in earnest. Several undergraduates from Trinity and St. John's Colleges sat in various postures upon the grass, some even so daring as to lay down with their boots thrown carelessly to the side. The weather had mollified on this fortunate day, encouraging many to absorb the last moments of warmth before the winter cold. It was not uncommon for water parties, by far the favourite pastime amongst gentlemen, to start before the designated time; a bottle of good wine only had to be opened for undergraduates to enjoy themselves thoroughly for some time. Mr. Fitzwilliam, on seeing his last two guests approach, walking side by side without a wayward remark passing between them, stood with a wide grin.

"Darcy, Elliot! I am glad to see you have not clawed each other's eyes out in the two weeks since our last meeting!" Mr. Fitzwilliam exclaimed as he reached their side and gave them each a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Fitzwilliam," acknowledged Mr. Darcy impassively.

Upon seeing that the outgoing Elliot kept his eyes mostly to the ground, Mr. Fitzwilliam asked if anything was the matter with him.

"No, sir," she answered meekly. The sight of so many respectable gentlemen, acting so unlike what they usually did in front of ladies, suddenly rendered her uneasy. She suspected that the opposite sex, just like women, would shed some of their dignity when away from the eyes of society, but she had not expected this much liberty in their behaviour. Some men, already having imbibed a few glasses of brandy or port, had loosened their cravats and shed their school caps and gowns. Others were divested of their boots, unbuttoned their cuffs, and tousled their hair. Few of them retained their respectability and, with no women present, she was certain even fewer deemed it improper. She felt she was intruding upon something forbidden, and could not help feeling rather distressed. It was as if she were in Mr. Darcy's place on that fateful morning when he happened upon her running in the woods. Her actions would have been improper in company, but she had not intended to be seen in company. Now, as she peeked at the various men comfortably laying on the grass, oblivious to her gender, she dared not look any of them in the eye.

"Oh come, Elliot, do not tell me my cousin has turned you into an insipid, timid creature!" cried their host of the day.

"No," she replied, a little too hastily. "Mr. Darcy has done nothing of the sort."

"Well, you are unusually quiet today!" Elliot's inquisitor accused.

She sat between Mr. Fitzwilliam and his cousin without a word, baffling the Johnian even further. Mr. Darcy, likewise, kept to himself as he surveyed, with a lifted chin, the half-drunken men around him. Elliot need not look at Darcy to feel his unease and contempt in front of so much mindless indulgence. Mr. Fitzwilliam sighed dramatically, but could not hide the knowing smirk stretched upon his features. He cleared his throat in a most uncivil manner, but it was enough to captivate the party's undivided attention.

"Fellow gentlemen, I am pleased to announce that with the arrival of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Mr. Elliot Bennet here," he paused and gestured in their direction, "our little party is now complete. I have planned some quite adventurous activities for the rest of this afternoon, but until we start you may enjoy all the bottles you wish, for we have port flowing aplenty!"

There were some cheering after Mr. Fitzwilliam's speech; men lifted their glasses in praise of their host.

"Mr. Darcy…? Of Derbyshire?" asked an undergraduate once the noise died down. He had been lying informally upon the grass but righted himself to scrutinize Elliot's neighbour. His gown, sprawled haphazardly at his side, was laced with gold and looked far too expensive to be so roughly treated.

The party's attention, however, was not fixated upon trivialities. At the mention of Mr. Darcy's name, several faces turned towards him, with various degrees of curiosity in their eyes. Elliot could see Mr. Darcy's unease in front of so many less-than-proper strangers.

"The very one!" Mr. Fitzwilliam confirmed with some humour.

"Well, if it isn't the man who slighted my elder sister two seasons ago!" the other exclaimed with a chortle.

Had Elliot been drinking, she would have spluttered it out in a most unladylike manner. But the gentlemen around her performed the task in her stead, some of them hunched over to keep their shoulders from heaving as they muffled their laughter. Mortified, but nonetheless amused and curious, Elliot stole a glance at Mr. Darcy to see how he bore being teased so. As she expected, he was frowning, shoulders tense, eyes ablaze. He said nothing to disparage the gentleman and did not come to his own defence.

"Lord Travis, you old cock!" cried another undergraduate to Elliot's left. "Now that you have brought it up, I must hear the entire story!"

Although she was appalled with the man's unconstrained prying, several others joined in with his plea, and Lord Travis had no choice but to relay that fateful tale. He appeared to quite enjoy the attention, and the three cups he had already consumed removed any qualms about displaying himself foolishly in front of the party.

"Well, you asked for it!" he began, sending an unapologetic grin Mr. Darcy's way. "Two seasons ago, Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire, heir to ten thousand pounds per annum, finally made his official debut in London. He was quite taken with my eldest sister, you see, for she is a handsome creature indeed, with the face of an angel."

"Come, now! That is hardly believable, for she is your sister and you could not be a fair judge," someone cried.

"Shall we ask Mr. Darcy, then?" said Lord Travis.

Before Mr. Darcy could reply, however, Mr. Fitzwilliam quickly stood and said: "Well, look at the time! If we do not hurry with the treasure hunt, I am afraid we shall have to navigate in the dark!"

Several voices, heavily-slurred and inebriated, protested the suggestion of physical activity.

"Well then, I believe I shall just have to keep this little treasure…" Mr. Fitzwilliam said, lifting what looked like a very old, very exquisite bottle of wine, "…to myself!"

Elliot would never forget the look upon some men's faces at seeing the bottle. Many scrambled to sit upright; the fog before their eyes suddenly cleared and was replaced by greed. She knew not what was so special with that particular bottle of wine, but even with her limited education, she could surmise it was of the finest quality. The undergraduates tried in vain to close their gaping mouths as they observed the prize.

"Good gracious, Fitzwilliam, where have you acquired such a beauty?" inquired one of them, his question reflected upon the countenance of every other man.

"That is for me to know, and you to never find out!" grinned their host. "Now, who wishes to participate in the treasure hunt?"

The men competed against each other to stand up first.

"Since there are so many of you, and only one of her," Mr. Fitzwilliam gestured elegantly to the bottle, "you shall have to work in pairs. Find a partner, for that is the only way to participate. Once you have paired off, I will explain the rules of this afternoon's party!"

"Bennet," Mr. Darcy immediately said, looking at her with an expression that would not tolerate a refusal.

"Team number one: Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elliot Bennet!" Mr. Fitzwilliam immediately echoed.

Elliot could only resign herself to her fate. Any hope she had retained of being freed of Mr. Darcy had been shattered some time ago, and she would no longer be surprised if Mr. Darcy insisted on being present every waking moment of her life.

In a short time, six other teams were formed and their host began explaining the rules of the treasure hunt.

"In these grounds are hidden items that you must retrieve in order to accumulate points. The first two teams to return with all assigned items will win the first round. They shall be the only two teams to compete tonight in an ultimate test-of-courage. Therefore, only the fastest, cleverest, and most fearless of all shall be worthy of obtaining her, to savour her sweet taste and subtle delicacy in the privacy of your quarters."

Mr. Fitzwilliam held up seven pieces of folded paper tauntingly. "These are your guiding maps. One shall be assigned to each team. Inside are riddles that will bring you to your next destination. Every time you solve a puzzle, you must travel to the correct location and collect the required item. I have friends stationed here and there to ensure everyone's safety and honesty."

"Come, do not tarry Fitzwilliam, we are eager to begin!" someone protested.

"Well then, your first task is to collect one of these maps from me. I shall be standing over there," he said, pointing to a tree some distance away, "and the first of you to reach me shall obtain the easiest map to navigate. Subsequent maps become harder to complete, therefore this first step is crucial to victory. You may designate the fastest of your team to participate, for only one of you is required for this first challenge."

There was some murmuring amongst the teams, as each debated who to send to ensure a better chance of victory. Elliot was about to suggest Mr. Darcy for the race, for he was much taller, when Mr. Fitzwilliam retrieved seven empty flour sacks and dropped them in a heap to the ground.

"Forgive my blunder; I forgot to mention, this particular race will actually require you to hop," he smirked.

The negotiations between team members resumed in earnest as some protested the indignity of being seen jumping about in a sack, while others insisted on their inability to coordinate their lower limbs. Elliot decided to relieve Mr. Darcy's suffering by volunteering for this first contest. By then, Mr. Fitzwilliam had already walked to the faraway tree, and even as other teams were still negotiating, he announced the start of the treasure hunt.

Elliot wasted no time in donning the bag and hopping ahead of the rest. Mr. Darcy walked next to him, amused and thankful as he urged his partner on. His face had lost its previous, forbidding aspect in favour of very becoming dimples.

"Well, I daresay you are quite the proficient rabbit, Bennet!" he teased with a grin.

"With so many… sisters… you can hardly expect… any less," Elliot answered in between panted breaths.

"The pains an elder brother endures for younger sisters are great indeed," agreed Mr. Darcy. He cast a glance behind them, and noticed that some had come to an agreement, but none were quite so rehearsed in the sport as Elliot to overtake him.

Elliot hopping and Mr. Darcy walking quickly reached their destination. Mr. Fitzwilliam handed them the first paper with a pleased smile. "Forgive me, Darcy, for Lord Travis' indiscretion earlier. I had forgotten all about the incident when I invited him."

"It is in the past," Mr. Darcy said, but his mirth was gone and his expression had sobered.

Elliot bit her lower lip as she tried to enliven the mood. "Mr. Darcy, let us look at the first riddle," she insisted, as she unfolded the paper. Her team-mate stood behind her and peeked over her shoulder.

With body poised and eyes alert,
I stand in silence, one step ahead
And if some power I am to exert,
It is in hopes of seeing red.

Solve the riddle to your next destination.

"Too easy, Fitzwilliam," Mr. Darcy admonished as he lead Elliot away. "To Sinclair's Board we are bidden," he declared with some determination.

"Not so fast, Darcy, Elliot," their host warned as he held out a piece of cloth. "I must first tie your ankles together."

"What?" they blurted in unison.

"I am fond of three-legged races. They will considerably slow you down, unless you find a way to cooperate."

"Are we to travel like this for the remaining duration of the treasure hunt?" Mr. Darcy asked, outraged.

"No, no, only until you reach Sinclair's, which is some distance away, but I have faith in your abilities," Mr. Fitzwilliam replied, looking infinitely pleased with himself. "Of course, all of the other teams are to suffer the same ordeal, some with partners worse than yours, so do not dare complain, Darcy."

Her much taller partner sighed as he stood closer to Elliot. "Let us get this over with," he declared when Mr. Fitzwilliam bent to bind their ankles. Mortified, Elliot tried to distance herself from Mr. Darcy, but achieved only limited success for she could not move her left foot.

"The truth is, you are very eager to acquire the prize, are you not, Darcy?" his cousin grinned. "It is a fine specimen that even your influence might not obtain, what with the recent unfolding of the war."

Mr. Darcy said nothing as Mr. Fitzwilliam stood again, his task complete. "Well then," the host said with a hint of irony, "Godspeed you, Bennet, Darcy." He then turned to the next team completing the race and handed them the second piece of paper.

Mr. Darcy took a tentative step, but Elliot, not quite ready to follow his lead, lost her balance with the sudden movement. She let out an unbecoming squeal as she grabbed Mr. Darcy's coat and pushed him to the ground. The thunderous laughter around them did nothing to alleviate both team members' blush. Elliot hastily tried to stand, but the binding of her ankle and Mr. Darcy's own sudden movement, only contributed to her falling atop him once more.

Her partner sighed as he grabbed her shoulders to steady her. "We must work together, Bennet," he reiterated as they both sat straight. "Follow my lead, and do not attempt to move in the other direction," he declared with finality.

Too embarrassed to protest, Elliot looked shamefully to the ground as Mr. Darcy slowly righted their postures. Once in equilibrium, he did not let go of her arm, and even urged her to hold on to him to better balance their weight. She had begun to protest when the team following suddenly tumbled onto the grass, and this time the rest of the participants did not dare laugh too hard as their own turns approached.

"Come, we must move our legs together, with the same force, and cover the same distance, starting with our joined feet," Mr. Darcy declared. "Three, two, one!"

This time, they met with greater success, for they were still standing upright, and had taken a step ahead.

"Good, let us repeat that motion. On three..."

As Elliot clung to Mr. Darcy's side, she could not help but hope the warmth in her cheeks would abate soon.

Some eternity later, or at least that was Elliot's impression, they arrived in front of Sinclair's Board. A Johnian waved them over, and mercifully untied their ankles. Elliot immediately bounced away from Mr. Darcy, her whole body still ablaze.

"Congratulations, you have reached your first destination!" the man declared.

"How many more do we have to endure?" asked Mr. Darcy immediately.

"That, I cannot answer. But before you leave, you must solve the following puzzle and choose the correct box on this table." He handed them another paper, and refused to speak any more.

Three parcels stand before you,
Choose wisely, and let the thought brew,
For appearances are often misleading,
And one false step might prevent your succeeding.

[1] Solve the following equation for f '(2) = lim x-» 0 [((2+x)^2 - 2^2)/x] -1

"We would like the third item," said Elliot and Mr. Darcy together, some seconds later. Surprised at the other's speed for solving the equation, they looked at each other with lifted brows as the Johnian retrieved their reward. Inside the third box was a miniature replica of a fencing foil. Quite enrapt with this game Mr. Fitzwilliam had concocted, Mr. Darcy and Elliot eagerly read the hint to their next destination.

One step forth, I am black,
Another step and I am back.
In this world, colours are slight,
For it only alters between day and night.

Mr. Darcy stood back pensively, but Elliot, in an unguarded moment, grabbed his wrist and led him away. "To Trinity's chess club!" she cried with enthusiasm as she bounded forward. Behind her, she could hear Mr. Darcy's delighted laughter, and she could not help but join in, as both of them hurried off.

This time, a Trinitarian welcomed them at the intended destination. He presented them with a sheet of paper, and watched as they read.

Despite my rank, I stay weak,
Belittled by my wife, so to speak,
But little even she can accomplish,
If I were, one day, to truly perish.

According to Virgil in The Aeneid, who was guilty of slaying the above character?

Perplexed, Elliot stood in contemplation. It was quite clear the poem referred to the king, but what is the connection between chess and The Aeneid? "Mr. Darcy, I am at a loss," she confessed.

"Quite. I cannot understand why they are referring to Virgil," her partner agreed.

"Well, The Aeneid speaks of the battle of Troy…" Elliot began, but was suddenly struck with inspiration. She glanced at Mr. Darcy, and saw the same intelligence reflected in his eyes.

"The Trojan Horse!" they called out together.

Since only black chess pieces were available, Elliot quickly grabbed the black Knight and thanked the Trinitarian. Meanwhile, Mr. Darcy read the next riddle.

With the season, it is clear,
I am at my best at this time of year,
A student of Trinity once complained of pain,
As I unceremoniously dropped upon his brain.

Mr. Darcy lifted his eyes to Elliot, and both promptly burst into more laughter. They bid good-bye to the undergraduate in front of the chess pieces, and hurried to the apple orchard west of Trinity. The student in question, both could not help snicker, was in fact the renowned Sir Isaac Newton. They were discussing their knowledge of Newtonian mathematics when another team for the treasure hunt sped past them on their mounts.

"Horses, of course! Why had I not thought of employing them?" Mr. Darcy sighed and hurried his pace.

"I do not know how to ride sir, so it is all for the best," replied Elliot. "But do you not keep a stallion with you? With ten thousand per annum I find that quite surprising," she teased.

"My father wishes for me to learn to rely solely upon myself," he replied with determination. "As I have told you, Pemberley is large, and the fate of hundreds depends upon my actions. My every act is weighed, judged, and interpreted by society. Two seasons ago, I learned that particular lesson the hard way."

"Are you referring to Lord Travis's sister?" Elliot could not help but ask curiously. "The only woman who is more than simply tolerable?"

Her partner sighed painfully as he brought a hand to his temple. "Do not tell me Miss Bennet overheard that! I had thought I had seen her quickly crossing the street on that day…" he mumbled. "Is there not a single word you keep from each other?"

Elliot refrained from telling him that he was mistaken. He could not have seen Elizabeth that day, for it was Elliot who walked past. Perhaps he had mistaken another lady for Elizabeth. Instead, she said: "I have warned you, Mr. Darcy, we are inseparable."

"Lady Cordelia was, perhaps, handsomer than most," Mr. Darcy began instead. "At eighteen, my father decided it was time for me to become eligible to the ladies of the ton. I had attended balls and soirées prior to that, but I had not yet become the centre of the matrons' attention. That night, I made the mistake of asking her to dance a second time, to avoid the attentions of another lady. Needless to say, to many, I was as good as betrothed to her by the end of the evening."

"So you were not crossed in love?" Elliot asked disappointedly. "I thought for sure that is the reason why you are so temperamental when in presence of the fairer sex," she admitted, vexed as she recalled his slight of her true self— of Elizabeth.

"Good God, I am but twenty. May the Lord spare me from love and matrimony for at least eight years still," he exclaimed with a look of exaggerated desperation. "But in all seriousness, I have truly learned my lesson. Every single one of my actions will be examined, and likely misinterpreted, by others in society, and thus I cannot live in an unrestricted and easy manner. In order to remedy my mistake at the assembly, I had to cut ties with Lord Travis, despite my father's long-time alliance with his father. Theirs is an influential family, and the loss of their connection cost us dearly."

For the first time, Elliot looked at him carefully, seeing his fastidiousness and severity in a new light. "Sir, forgive me my earlier attack… it was uncivil of me."

"No, I can hardly discredit your defence of your sister. I… my cousin was purposely taunting me, and I was not in a particularly good humour…"

The rest of Mr. Darcy's sentence was interrupted as another team sped past on stallions. This time, they decided to make haste, and ran the rest of the way to the apple orchard. The gatekeeper pointed them in the right direction, and soon they could see a piece of paper nailed to a tree.

Sturdy are my branches, my roots,
And I hope the same of your boots,
For at the top lays your valued find,
And so up, up, up, you must climb!

Several paces away, the two other teams were busy pulling themselves up a tree under the watchful eye of some guards, but in their half-inebriated state, both made very slow progress. Elliot glanced at Mr. Darcy, who could not help but ask: "Do you climb faster than Miss Bennet?"

Without answering, Elliot stretched up to the lower branches and adroitly swung herself up. To her amazement, however, Mr. Darcy stepped to the other side of the tree and endeavoured to do the same.

"Mr. Darcy! I did not know you to partake in such unbecoming activities!" she teased.

"I was once a boy myself, you must know," he replied with humour.

"You mean to tell me you were not born exactly as you are now?" she asked in mock horror. "And you will inform me next you are, in truth, the Prince Regent in disguise!"

"Come, is it so very surprising that I am myself a gentleman farmer?"

"Yes, I assure you, it is!"

Elliot, with greater speed and agility, reached the top of the tree before her partner, but just as she reached to grab the only apple there, Mr. Darcy, with longer arms, stole it first. She looked at him in shock. "That is not fair," she accused with a chuckle.

"Your only option is to eat more and pray," Mr. Darcy countered, as he hopped to the ground.

She laughed delightedly and landed to his left an instant later. "Well, what is your decree? Do I climb faster than Elizabeth?"

"You land more elegantly than she does," Mr. Darcy simply said, smirking. He had unfolded the paper to read the last riddle, and had quite missed her flaming cheeks.

At the start of clouds,
At the end of sea.
At the centre of time,
In a word of three.

They puzzled on it for a while, and it was Elliot who ultimately deciphered their last riddle. "Come, Mr. Darcy, let us head back to the Cam."

TBC

[1] Fanfiction. net will not let me format the actual mathematical equation. If you wish to see it written properly, please PM me. Otherwise, just pretend the answer to the question is three.

Next up: The sun is setting, the woods are waking. Will the two teams manage, the ultimate test-of-courage?

How many of the riddles did you guess right? Comment with your record number!