It was before lunch the next day when Elizabeth arrived at Darcy's house. It was a beautiful building, fronted with marble columns and neat rows of windows. The garden in the square was surrounded by a fence with lamps atop each post, and a few persons sat on the benches beneath ample clumps of oak and beech trees.

Would she and Darcy one day sit together on those benches? She'd had the nightmare again last night: I wish I had not married you. She trusted Darcy. She would talk to him; he would reassure her; and she would feel well again. Yet her nerves skittered.

The butler informed them that the master and Mr. Bingley had returned the previous night a little before midnight and left again at 6 o'clock this morning. A note had been left by Mr. Darcy, but he only said that they followed an excellent lead.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner immediately left to visit their house and talk to Mr. Bennet. The rest of the group settled into the first floor drawing room.

Everyone's spirits were too depressed and nervous for much conversation. After several minutes of dull sitting about, Georgiana went to play. It was a mournful song, and each cadence made Elizabeth more convinced of disaster. Jane may worry for Lydia, but Elizabeth fancied she knew her sister's fate. Mr. Darcy would find Wickham and pay him off, and Lydia would marry him.

But then? Georgiana might expect it, but would Darcy still wish to marry her? Now that her family had proven to be not merely improper, but immoral. Now that it would connect him to Wickham.

The melancholy air Georgiana played, and Jane's occasional attempts to say something cheerful gnawed at Elizabeth. She could not stay here with them and wait for him to return.

Elizabeth stood. "Georgie, I must be alone. My thoughts are whirling, and — your brother said the library here is half as good as that at Pemberley, where might I find it?"

Georgiana and Jane let Elizabeth withdraw. The library was a beautiful well-appointed room with shelves that went ten feet high and three rolling staircases to reach the top shelves. There was a handsome marble fireplace in the wall opposite the windows, and the upholstered chairs were many and comfortable. Small mahogany and rosewood tables were spread about for books and drinks to be placed on, and a globe taller than Elizabeth stood in a corner.

He would decide he no longer wished to marry her and be relieved when she offered to release him. Everything she knew about Darcy said he'd not change; that his affection was too durable. But now that she was alone, her hands shook with anxiety.

What if they married, and he someday regretted it like Papa did. What if she made him unhappy? What if he made her unhappy? Maybe she should leave the house and walk to her aunt and uncle's and never let Darcy see her again.

She sat next to a window and cried for twenty minutes. She didn't move but slipped off her shoes and pulled her legs onto the chair and wrapped her arms around them. It was a bright sunny day. The room was stuffy from the unavoidable heat. She felt miserable.

Elizabeth had her reticule and pulled out the note that Darcy delivered through Bingley the morning he went to London. She'd kept it carefully stored in her bag and read it often. Darcy had written: I care only for your happiness. I could never regret anything which contributed to it.

Elizabeth smiled and kissed the paper again. It would be well. Despite her anxiety, she trusted him. Frightened obsessing would do no good. Elizabeth selected a copy of a novel she knew well from the rosewood shelves and forced herself to read.

She did not notice his entrance, so Darcy paused to look at her. Elizabeth's feet were drawn up under her, and her nose was barely visible above the book. She reached a hand up to rub at her forehead and saw him.

"Mr. Darcy!" She put aside the book, rising before Darcy could stop her. "You look tired." Her eyes were concerned as she stepped closer to him, she poured him a glass of wine from a decanter on a side table and pushed him onto a chair. "You ought to go to bed immediately after dinner."

Darcy smiled at her stern expression; he attempted to mimic the lisp of a schoolboy, "Yes, ma'am."

Elizabeth smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. Her spirits were visibly low. Hopefully the news would improve her mood, though it could not make her happy.

Darcy drained his glass of wine; fatigue and soreness covered him like a thick blanket. He gestured for Elizabeth to sit down. "You must wish to know what news I have."

"Only if speaking of it won't distress you."

"I am tired, not —" Darcy spread his hands an explanation. "No, while the situation is poor — the news is as good as it could be. I have found them, but it proved impossible to convince Lydia to abandon Wickham. However, while there are still details to be negotiated, I convinced Wickham to marry her for an almost reasonable sum."

"So that is the best we can hope for, that she marry such a man. Wickham is to be my brother." Elizabeth sighed unhappily. She was beautiful, and he wanted to make her happy. But nothing could change the situation.

Darcy spoke rapidly, "It is unfortunate, but do not worry so. We shall — do not worry. We will keep an eye on Wickham and ensure that some of the money settled upon them goes directly to your sister. She will not be mistreated. He will take a commission in the regiment of a close friend of Colonel Fitzwilliam's — Lydia will face no worse than an imprudent husband who really cares nothing for her. It cannot be what you wish for her, but a great many people face situations quite as bad without becoming really unhappy."

Elizabeth silently cried, and tears rolled down her cheeks. Darcy grabbed her hand. "Elizabeth, please don't cry. It will be well — I promise you."

"I am being ridiculous, but I feel so anxious." Elizabeth pulled her hand away from his to take a handkerchief from her reticule to cry into. It was the one he had given her the last time they spoke. Darcy retook possession of her hand and gripped it tightly. She squeezed his hand back.

Darcy settled himself closer to Elizabeth, dragging the armchair he sat in forward with his weight. He pulled Elizabeth's hand up to kiss it briefly and then covered it with his other. It was impossible for him to undo the consequences of Lydia's imprudence, but he wished to share as much of Elizabeth's pain as he could.

For a moment, he feared he may have acted amiss. The sobs which had begun to relax redoubled; however, when Darcy moved to pull his hands away from Elizabeth's, she murmured for him to stay and gripped him tightly.

At last Elizabeth ceased crying. She clutched Darcy's wet handkerchief in her free hand. She attempted to pull her hand away from him. Darcy did not let her. Elizabeth turned away with a blush. "I should not cry over what must be. I should not have imposed upon you so."

"There is nothing I desire more than for you to impose upon me."

Elizabeth looked him full in the eye. "I sincerely thank you for that. I do. I cannot help but think about all the other ways my family has imposed upon you. You have my deepest gratitude for your goodness."

Darcy squeezed her warm hand tighter and began to speak, "Elizabeth, I — you must know that —"

"Wait." Elizabeth closed her eyes and clenched her free hand. Her face was pained. "I have something I must say. I must. Before you say anything else — Georgie told us how Wickham attempted to use her. I now know why you hate him so. You could not — you said it would be terrible to be connected to Wickham. You could not wish Georgiana to be attached in any permanent way to that man. I know you have — much of what you have said of late was in the nature of a promise. And I — if you no longer wish to —"

"Don't be ridiculous" — Darcy's chest tightened with anger — "I shall not let you say such words. I shall always wish to marry you. How could you think my heart might change? How could you imagine Wickham might make me love you less? I could never wish to abandon — you cannot think my feelings so shallow."

"I know you love me. I know it wouldn't affect that. But you'll regret it someday. You will. Like Papa. We won't always feel so much as we do now, and one day you'll find I'm not so young, and Wickham will make some insolent demand, and you'll regret it. I cannot do that to you."

Like Papa. He hated that she could feel uncertain, but she needed his affection now more than ever. "Oh, Lizzy." Darcy leaned close and pulled Elizabeth near, so he could kiss her forehead. "Oh, my dear sweet Lizzy." He kissed her again, on her cheek and then on her nose. "It is not your person but your soul I love. Age shall only strengthen its appeal. We shall grow old together and tease and love each other more than ever. You are my dearest friend, and there is no companion I could want more. If I have you by my side, I shall never regret it."

Her beautiful eyes looked at him. They were red and wet. She nodded. "I know. I was ridiculous. But —"

"You were not." Darcy said softly, "Elizabeth Bennet, will you take my hand for life? Will you marry me? For I ardently admire and love you."

Her eyes stared into his, and she said, "Yes, oh yes! I love you. Your manner, your face, your quirks, your presence has become unspeakably dear to me. All my affections; all my hopes of happiness are bound up with you."

This speech moved him, and as they spoke, their heads had come so close. At last he kissed his Elizabeth.

The door to the library slammed open, and Jane entered, shouting, "Lizzy, Lizzy — my husband has brought good news — they have found Lydia, and she is at our aunt and uncle's. Mr. Wickham will marry her!"

Elizabeth and Darcy jumped apart, and Darcy could feel that his face was as hot as Elizabeth's looked.

Jane realized what she had interrupted and, with an embarrassed "pardon me," quickly backed out of the room and closed the door.

Elizabeth gave an exasperated huff. "If she continues to interrupt us so, I shall grow very cross with Jane. I never interrupted her so when Bingley was courting her. I have desired to kiss you for close on six months now."

Elizabeth's frustrated scowl was adorable, and Darcy laughed, soon joined by Elizabeth.

"I confess," Darcy said, "I spent at least a full half hour upon the road cursing that your sister had not delayed five minutes before she interrupted us in the orangery. Had she waited another minute, I would have requested your hand."

"Only a mere half hour" — Elizabeth smiled cheekily — "and what, pray, absorbed the rest of your thoughts?"

"You, my dear." Darcy took Elizabeth's hand again and looked into her smiling eyes. "Deeply as your sister annoyed me, I believe I thought mainly of you."

Darcy could see Elizabeth was affected by their closeness, and though she attempted to keep her voice light, it trembled as she leaned her face ever closer to him. "Now that — that is a topic of contemplation I approve greatly of."

Darcy kissed her.

Far before Darcy would've liked Elizabeth pulled away. She sighed, "We must rejoin the others — else Jane will think the worst of us. And, I wish to share the good news."

"Do not be absurd — Jane will never think the worst of us. Even if we deserve it." Elizabeth giggled, and Darcy kissed her again as she laughed.

They stayed in the room long enough that if Jane suspected the worst of them, she would now be certain. At last they stood to leave the library and find the others. As they did Elizabeth said, "I hate that such a matter intrudes on my mind, but you talked with Lydia. In what manner did she behave?"

"She is unrepentant. She was quite angry at me. Her head is filled with tales of my crimes against Mr. Wickham, and she is devoted to her dear Wickham. The impropriety and immorality of her situation has no hold upon her. She was quite as bad as you imagine her to have been."

They paused outside the drawing room, and Elizabeth sighed. "I suppose — I suppose it is best, since she will marry him, that she takes her husband's side. Still…" Elizabeth shook her head and reached to open the door.

Darcy stopped her with his hand and whispered, "This conversation has made you look a little unhappy." He gave Elizabeth a quick kiss and was delighted to see how her cheeks flamed.

"They are right in there," she said, pointing her head towards the door.

"Elizabeth, I must have you look the part of the blushing bride. I cannot let our family think you are anything but happy. Your embarrassment is an advantage in this situation."

Elizabeth's mouth formed a silent 'O'; she leaned up on her toes and, lacing one hand through his hair, kissed him soundly. "There, now you look properly unsettled as well."

The next morning Elizabeth awoke in one of the Gardiners guest bedrooms. Things were not perfect, which was for the best. If one had no cause at all for unhappiness, then fate would conspire to bring sorrow. Lydia still was to marry Wickham, and she was separated from Darcy by more than a mile of city streets. So, Elizabeth had no need to fear that she was too happy.

Elizabeth jumped out of bed and, punching the air in delight, danced a fast jig in her stockings and nightgown. She was at last engaged to Darcy. They had spent a full twenty minutes kissing in the library. It was even more sensual and perfect than her fantasies. Soon they would marry, and she would live with him at Pemberley and tease Darcy into his brilliant smiles every day.

Maybe, she was too happy.

The previous day Jane suggested that as Elizabeth and Darcy were engaged, it would be improper for them to sleep under the same roof. She really would become vexed at Jane if she continued to interfere with her and Darcy. Jane had been apologetic when Elizabeth glared at her. Darcy laughed.

In the hour after they joined the others, Darcy yawned often. Rather than let him accompany her to the Gardiners, Elizabeth forced him to go to bed after they had a quick evening meal. He would come this morning to call on her and ask papa for his blessing. Elizabeth herself went to bed after a short evening with her family.

It was enough time for her to find Lydia unrepentant and resentful of her father. Mr. Bennet appeared dispirited and alternated between melancholy silences, where he stared at Lydia or pretended to read his book, and angry lectures when Lydia said something particularly foolish.

Now that Elizabeth's happiness with Darcy was positively settled, she could begin to properly feel for her sister. Her father also received her sympathy. It had been his irresponsibility that left Lydia prey for Mr. Wickham, but he felt the depth of his failure.

Elizabeth came down to breakfast. Her father and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were already seated around the table. Her father read Mr. Gardiner's newspaper, more it seemed to avoid conversation than from any real interest in the contents. He lowered the paper and looked at Elizabeth over it before returning his eyes to the broad pages.

"Good morning, Papa," Elizabeth said chirpily. Her manner was too happy for the somberness of her father's mood, so she attempted to school herself to show more of the emotion she ought. "I am sorry for your troubles. It must have been terrible. You went through much stress and difficulty while you searched for Lydia."

Mr. Bennet looked at Elizabeth, folded his newspaper and put it to the side, saying, "Not nearly enough. My sufferings were too little. I have erred and erred greatly. Some part of the unpleasantness ought to be mine. No, this affair has turned out far better than I could have expected, and with less cost and scandal — all thanks to your young man, for Bingley alone could not have arranged matters so tightly."

Elizabeth blushed at the reference to Darcy. "You must not be too severe upon yourself."

"It is sound for you to warn me against such; the nature of many people is to criticize themselves to excess. That is not my vice. Let me for once in my life feel how much I have been to blame. I'm not afraid of being overpowered by the impression. It will pass away, sooner than it ought."

"Things are not so bad, I do not believe Lydia will be really unhappy — even should she discover for herself what sort of man she has married — and the situation has been managed so that there should be no ill effects on Kitty or Mary."

Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows in response. "And you have no worry for yourself?"

Elizabeth blushed at the look in Mr. Bennet's eyes but did not respond.

Mr. Bennet looked at his coffee. "Lizzy, I bear you — and Mr. Darcy — no ill will for being justified in your advice. Considering the event, it showed some greatness of mind."

Elizabeth squeezed her father's hand. She was too happy to resent her father's mistakes and had learned too much of her own flaws to judge others harshly.

Lydia pranced into the room, wearing one of Mrs. Gardiner's lace caps. "La! I shall look so fashionable dressed as a matron." She modeled herself for them, turning one way and the other to let them see her head from each angle, and exclaimed to Mrs. Gardiner, "Lord! Your styles are so boring — not nearly enough lace and trim. I shall make my dear Wickham buy me something much prettier as a present when next I see him."

The night's rest had convinced Mr. Bennet that lecturing his daughter further was futile, and he simply grunted and picked up the newspaper next to his plate and, after he shook it out, began to read again.

Mrs. Gardiner spoke, "Dear, it is well for you to wish nice things — but you shall be living on a limited income. You will need to make do with a fewer caps and less lace than you are used to."

"La! Do not be silly. My Wickham shall buy me whatever I wish, and if we should need more money for necessities, I will just ask Jane to provide us more. She and Bingley have so very much — they can have no objection to giving us a little every so often. Especially since Bingley insists on remaining friends with that nasty Mr. Darcy. It was his fault my dear Wickham is in such straits."

How dare she insult Mr. Darcy! Why, he had shown more true care for Lydia's well-being than either herself or her father. If Lydia did not end wholly miserable in life, it would be solely due to Mr. Darcy's kindness. Elizabeth leaned forward. "Mr. Wickham's troubles are of his own devising — Mr. Darcy has only ever acted with honor and a great excess of generosity towards him."

Elizabeth flushed as she saw Mr. Bennet look from around his newspaper to give her a knowing smirk.

"La, Lizzy you are so silly. Whatever makes you trust that nasty, ugly Mr. Darcy over my handsome, friendly Mr. Wickham."

Elizabeth glared at her sister, while Mr. Bennet said mildly, "Lydia, whatever you may have against Mr. Darcy, you cannot claim him to be ugly — it is that which annoyed your sister most."

Lydia made a face and replied, "Perhaps not. But he ought to be ugly — after he was so mean to my Mr. Wickham. Lizzy, what think you of how this cap looks?"

"Far better on your aunt. Perhaps if you had it trimmed with more lace." Elizabeth threw her napkin on the table, stood, and gave a halfhearted curtsy. "Excuse me, but I do not feel hungry any longer."

How dare she be such a foolish Lydia! And after Mr. Darcy had shown so much goodness towards her. Elizabeth quickly put on a pair of walking boots and stepped out of the house to go towards a nearby park. She'd gone barely one hundred yards, railing in a low voice at Lydia the entire way, when the clatter of the carriage stopping made her look up. It was Bingley and Darcy. Darcy had already climbed out and come to her side.

"I was just come to call upon your father." He smiled at her with concern.

Elizabeth's tension and annoyance melted away, and she grabbed Darcy's arm tightly. "Walk with me first. I was in a poor mood and have no desire to return to her anytime soon."

"I am always and wholly yours to command."

The serious way he said that drained Elizabeth's remaining unhappiness. "Oh my! That is a substantial gift. Always. I shall need to think on some way to abuse it horribly. Perhaps something inspired by courtly romance."

Darcy replied with a steady voice, "How could you possibly abuse my obedience, when any task done for you — no matter how silly or ridiculous — shall be its own reward, as I do it for your love."

Elizabeth blushed brightly. "Goodness — that was a pretty speech!"

"I'm glad it pleased you. I shall endeavor to find other extravagant means to express my regard."

As they strolled into the park Elizabeth smiled and nestled herself closer to Darcy, enjoying the feel of his arm and coat. The day had already warmed, but was still pleasant to walk about in, and the smells of the park muted much of the unpleasantness of the city atmosphere. Birds flapped, cawing at each other. Everything but the wonderful man she was to marry seemed distant.

"What did Lydia do to annoy you so?"

"Oh." Elizabeth thought back to her frustration. "I hate that she insults you and believes every word Wickham speaks against you. How she can believe, and even fancy herself to love, that worthless, false, superficial man and not see your goodness?"

Darcy made no reply but a small snort of aborted laughter. Elizabeth looked at him. He suppressed a smile. "What amuses you?"

"I had best not speak of that and simply say that your fierce defense of me pleased me greatly."

Elizabeth huffed. "Speak, I can see in your eye you half wish to, and if you do not tell me what amused you, the curiosity will eat at me."

"Well, I merely thought you should not be so harsh at your sister for preferring Wickham's words to mine as she is not the only lady of my acquaintance to have done so."

Elizabeth flushed with embarrassment. She had changed so much since then. "I was a fool then. So foolish and blind."

"And I was rude and acted selfishly. I should not have told you what I thought."

"I'm pleased you did, and my philosophy is to think only on the past when it gives pleasure or offers useful lesson. Perhaps I should not judge Lydia so harshly, but she frustrates me."

"I daresay, the interview Bingley and I held with her yesterday morning was not the most pleasant hour of my life."

"From her manner, she enjoyed it no more than you." Elizabeth was silent for a brief time, then peevishly burst out, "She said you were nasty and ugly. Ugly! You. Is she blind?"

Darcy chuckled, and Elizabeth quickly joined him. "Tell me truly," Darcy asked, "was the insult against my appearance what drove you to your walk?"

"It was the immediate cause." She laughed heartily at herself and said gaily, "You must know I marry you to be universally envied. If anyone should deny the great superiority of your appearance, my triumph will not be complete. For you are very handsome."

Elizabeth grinned as Darcy stood just a bit taller at the end of her speech. "Ah," he said, "so Lydia offended an important point of your feminine vanity. I understand."

Elizabeth cried out, "Is this to be how you treat me. I had thought it was the place of a husband to always puff up his wife's virtues beyond any reasonable bounds."

"I know enough of your mind to guess at the corollary to your idea of how a husband should act; pray, is the wife to tease and quarrel with her husband as often as may be?"

Elizabeth giggled at Darcy's expression. "Oh, very much so. You shall have no cause to repine, for a wife who flattered your every belief and never found cause to disagree with you would not be much to your liking."

"Certainly not. I have been, unknowingly, in the pursuit of the most charmingly disagreeable wife possible."

Elizabeth looked at Darcy's face. She wished they were not in a public place; she wished Darcy could kiss her again. He caught something of her mood. He looked at her with intense eyes and played with the fingers of the hand she had upon his arm. He said in a breathy whisper, "When you look at me in that way, I desire so terribly to kiss you."

Elizabeth breathed back, "I wish that as well."

They exchanged a long impassioned look. At last Darcy said with a smile, "We should return to your uncle's house. You shall have Jane to share Lydia with, and I have a conversation with your father which I am most eager for."

Darcy opened the door and quietly entered Mr. Gardiner's study. Mr. Bennet sat in a large armchair looking out the window. A book was in his lap, but for once Mr. Bennet did not read. He held a glass of port and had a half empty decanter next to him on the side table.

"Please, sit — sit." Mr. Bennet gestured for Darcy to pull up another armchair close to him. The manner he poured a glass of port for Darcy was sober enough to allow the conversation. "Drink with an unhappy man."

Darcy accepted the glass and settled into the indicated chair. Mr. Bennet said, "I never paid much attention to the younger girls. They were always so much sillier than Elizabeth and Jane. It was my duty and I failed."

Darcy waited to see if he wished to say more.

"You are not one for empty banter or comforting a man who ought not be comforted. I should thank you. You attempted to turn me from this path. I ought to have treated you better, and I am sorry for it. The event proved I have been purely a fool."

Darcy replied, "It is easy for a guardian to fail in some important respect. Even if they try to be diligent."

"That will not do to reduce my guilt, for I did not try, and I ought to have."

Mr. Bennet drained the rest of his glass and said, "I see you do not disagree. Well out with it, you must have sought me for some particular reason."

Darcy placed the glass down and steadied himself. "Mr. Bennet, I wish to ask you for the hand of your daughter Elizabeth in marriage."

Mr. Bennet took in a sharp breath, then he exhaled. "I expected it to be that. Well, I shall miss her. However, I have seen too much of you two together to doubt her happiness with you."

His face became pained. "I owe you another apology. I had hoped — it was even more foolish of me and very wrong, but I had hoped — not consciously, I could see your feelings were too strong for such a stratagem — but in my heart I had hoped that if I behaved unpleasantly towards you, your mind might change. Derbyshire is so far away, and I will miss my girl very much."

"I suspected as much. You can visit despite the distance. The turnpikes have made travel not so bad as it once was, and our library is grand indeed." Darcy could not feel really angry at the man who had raised Elizabeth and was now to lose her companionship. "You should not have involved Miss Mary and Miss Darcy in your game."

"I know it was wrong. I am glad they ended friends during that last call. Mary will be glad to see your sister again. By the by" — Mr. Bennet smirked — "Lizzy defended you most fiercely this morning from Lydia's repetition of Wickham's accusations against you."

Darcy smiled. "She said as much to me."

"Well, no use to put it off." Mr. Bennet reached across to shake Darcy's hand. "You can marry her with my blessings, and I am sure you will prove to be a better father and husband than I have."

"Thank you, sir." When Mr. Bennet said nothing further, Darcy stood so he could return to the drawing room and Elizabeth.

"No, wait." Mr. Bennet filled both of their glasses from his decanter of port. "Let us first toast to my Lizzy."

Darcy nodded and with a happy smile clinked his glass against Mr. Bennet's. "To Elizabeth."

It was nearing midnight the night before Darcy's wedding, and he sat with Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam around a card table in Netherfield's billiard room. The table was piled with bottles of expensive spirits and empty crystal glasses. Colonel Fitzwilliam had insisted that Darcy drink with them for the last night of his bachelorhood. He had become quite tipsy, and the glass of brandy he sipped now was to be the last of the night. No matter how amusing his cousin would find it, he was not going to attend his wedding with a hangover.

Bingley had imbibed more heavily and, with his hand weaving unsteadily, explained to Colonel Fitzwilliam how Darcy had met Elizabeth. "It was at the assembly rooms, the day after he came back with me from London. Now, I had heard ever since I arrived in Hertfordshire how pretty the Bennet girls were, but believe me — Jane was even prettier than I thought possible. Than I had imagined possible. She is an absolute angel."

Bingley leaned into Darcy's face and, with the smell of the alcohol clear in his breath, demanded, "Admit it Darcy, my Jane is the most beautiful creature in the world."

Darcy's tipsiness let him respond belligerently. He pushed his nose close to Bingley's and roared, "You are wrong! Elizabeth is lovelier by far."

Bingley recoiled. Darcy sat back and firmly smacked his hand on the wooden arm of his chair. "Your Jane is nothing to her sister, nothing!" Darcy waved his hand in pain. That had hurt.

Colonel Fitzwilliam guffawed and exclaimed, "I must join this game — my new mare King Charles the First is the prettiest girl I know."

Bingley replied immediately, "Unsay that! My Jane is prettier than your horse! Admit it."

"I daresay, your Jane is prettier for a human, but my King Charles is a better looking horse."

Darcy asked, "Why? Why would you name a mare King Charles?"

"It was in honor of our aunt — you know how she hates Cromwell." At Darcy's flat stare Colonel Fitzwilliam coughed in embarrassment and said, "Well, it seemed funny at the time."

"Were you drunk?"

"Maybe — you have no right to judge. Remember when you let Georgiana name your horse Brownie?"

The cousins glared at each other, and Bingley burst in, "I must finish my story. Then you can fight about proper horse names — by the way, humans are prettier than horses, so Jane is prettier than King Charles — so Darcy, in that stiff, upright, too tall for anyone to approach manner he has — you know what I speak of —"

Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded energetically. "Oh I do — I certainly do."

Darcy had a mildly annoyed frown as Bingley continued, "Darcy was not dancing, so I approached him. I said, 'Darcy you stuffed shirt, you powdered wig, you exceptionally tall and noble looking gentleman, I must have you dance.' Of course, Darcy replied, 'I do not wish to dance.' So I said, 'don't be a fool Darcy, some of the girls here are uncommonly pretty — you may even decide to marry one of them — why right there is the very pretty sister of my partner.' Don't you agree Jane happens to be the very, very prettiest girl in the entire world?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed uproariously as Bingley gestured wildly and spilled a little brandy. Darcy watched the floor absorb the liquid: A bottle that excellent deserved better. He stifled the urge to refill his almost empty glass.

Bingley continued, "And Darcy looked at Elizabeth for half a second, and I remember what he said clear as day — it was the night I met my darling Jane, and I remember everything from it clear as day." Bingley pantomimed pulling himself as tall as he could and spoke with a much deeper voice, "She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me."

Darcy blushed and quickly finished his glass to hide his embarrassment as Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. "I daresay your opinion has changed."

"That it has, that it has." And pulled by the alcohol, and his genial mood, and the fact Fitzwilliam and Bingley were his closest friends, Darcy added, "She overheard that conversation."

"So that was how you insulted her? And she still will marry you?" Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. "Your tall noble mien must have greater effect on the ladies than even I had realized."

Darcy replied smugly, "Elizabeth does have a proper appreciation for the excellence of my features."

Colonel Fitzwilliam replied, "Some men have all the luck: rich, and handsome, and tall. Though not charming, that belongs to me — and you Bingley."

"Elizabeth enjoys my company."

"That is because she is perfect for you. Or more, you are perfect for her. With the manner she looks for clever ways to poke fun at everything, she needs a husband who is as clever as she. Fine a woman as she is, I'd go mad after three months with her trying to tell when she was laughing at me and when she was serious. Besides, she likes to argue."

Darcy smiled as he thought of the ways he could bring Elizabeth to laughter. He loved her; he loved her light manners, her sharp sense of humor, and her clever ability to make any situation better. He loved the charming way she argued with him. Every day since their engagement had been a wonderful new opportunity to learn more about her mind.

"Look at him" — Colonel Fitzwilliam pushed Bingley hard in the arm — "sitting with that silly grin. He's thinking about her: That foolish face is the sign of a man in love. I hope I never look so."

Bingley replied, "Marriage to a beautiful woman you love is worth anything. Even looking remarkably silly in front of your friends. Say Darcy, how did you apologize to Elizabeth for her hearing that?"

"Well, first we argued about it."

Bingley waved his hands about. "So that was what the famous argument between you and Elizabeth after our wedding was about?"

Darcy shrugged. "We discussed other things."

Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed again. "I recall when you told me of that argument. You said you no longer had any affection for that girl. Hahahaha."

Colonel Fitzwilliam poured himself and Bingley a refill, but when he moved to pour more for Darcy, Darcy covered his cup with his hand and shook his head. Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded. "Wise, I'd not want to face Elizabeth after turning up drunk for her wedding either. She is mostly proper in company, but you can tell she has a temper when offended."

"I have discovered that myself."

The three pondered that. Bingley said, "Say Darcy, aren't you terribly glad I ignored your advice last winter and married Jane?"

"I have been pleased you did not follow it ever since I saw how happy you were together."

"Yes, yes, I know that. You admitted a long time ago your advice was wrongheaded, and you only were concerned for my welfare. Yes, yes. No, but for yourself — you'd not be marrying Elizabeth if I hadn't brought you two together. So the credit for your happiness goes to me. If I hadn't realized that for once you were a fool, you'd be miserable."

"No, she would have visited Mrs. Collins without your interference. I would've met Elizabeth again while at Rosings. So I do not depend upon you ignoring my advice for my present happiness."

"Ha! That is where you are wrong. Elizabeth still would have been mad at you for your rudeness. You may have asked her then, but she would have refused you. And then, you would have left Rosings and likely never met her again. And I would have been most melancholy without Jane, and Jane would have been most melancholy without me, and you would have been most melancholy without Elizabeth, and Elizabeth still would have been mostly happy."

"And I," Colonel Fitzwilliam cried, "would have been available to drink with both of you. And properly too. I tell you, in Spain we would've laughed at any man who got drunk after such a little amount."

"I am not drunk," Bingley slurred back.

As the two quarreled good-naturedly, Darcy thought about Bingley's question. If he'd met Elizabeth again at Rosings, he would not have known that she disliked him. She would have discovered that he had helped to separate Bingley from Jane, and she would have believed Wickham's lies. His manner would have been most ungentlemanly. He would have asked her to marry him, but she would have refused him.

His own foolishness could have so easily prevented his current happiness. "Bingley — I admit it. I am damned glad you did not listen when I advised you not to marry Jane Bennet. Damned glad."

AN: I would like to thank everyone again for reading and enjoying this story. I hope you like how it ended.

As a final documentary recommendation, I love the Walking Through History series. Tony Robinson walks around a region of England in each episode, visiting and talking about interesting historical sites. In the first episode I watched I learned things about the late eighteenth century history of Derbyshire that are incorporated into my third novel. Arkwright actually built the first cotton mills along the river Derwent, including mills near the town of Matlock.