Chapter 1

Elizabeth Bennet stared at the letter in her hands. She was mortified, ashamed, and shocked. The tale of Mr Wickham she did not wish to believe, but knew to be true. The improprieties and inconsistencies of Mr Wickham's story had at last made themselves known to her and she could not deny that, had she listened to his woes impartially, she would not have believed him so readily. And then, there was the business with Jane. She had expected him to justify himself with an accounting of the Bennet's lack of proper connexions and inappropriate behaviour. He had not followed Mr Bingley to London, but had gone at the request of his sister. When asked for his opinion on the match by the Bingleys he had told them that Jane had appeared indifferent to him - and here she heard Charlotte's warning to her - but he had also told them that as Jane was a gentleman's daughter she would be a good match for Bingley. He dismissed her relatives in trade when Caroline brought them up, as the Bingleys themselves has many relatives in trade.

She knew not what to think. Well, no, she knew exactly what to think. She had been insulted by a comment she had not meant to hear and used that to consider a reserved, proud man to be all manner of unpleasant things. She had slandered him, accused him of being dishonourable, and blamed him for matters beyond his control. She was thoroughly disgusted with herself. She had mocked her dearest sister for thinking only good while she had proved herself to think only bad, and with considerably less sense or reason. She burst into tears.

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was confused. Darcy had apparently told Miss Bennet everything about Wickham - including Georgiana - and wanted him to confirm the truth if she did not believe him. He did not understand what was going on, but Darcy had looked so miserable that he had agreed. They had called at the parsonage to take their leave and found that Miss Bennet was still on her walk. So, here he was, traipsing about the countryside with little hope of finding her. He had given himself only ten more minutes to find her when he heard a most dreaded noise. A woman was weeping. He sighed and turned towards the sound. He found Miss Bennet seated on a fallen log, her dainty lace handkerchief of no use. He proffered his square of cambric and sat beside her.

"I am grieved that Wickham was able to impose on you. I know Darcy saw to it that the merchants were warned, but he really should have had a thought to the fathers as well. Especially given our most recent encounter with the man."

Elizabeth tried to smile, "You need not worry. We none of us have dowries to tempt him. Except Miss King. I hope things have not progressed too far there."

"I will write to Colonel Forster and warn him. And though it's not proper to say so, Wickham would have no compunctions about seducing a penniless lady and abandoning her."

Once again Elizabeth was shocked. "Please tell me you are not serious."

"I'm afraid it has happened before."

Elizabeth resumed her weeping.

"I am sorry to distress you, but after what happened with Georgiana I find myself agreeing with my mother. Sheltering ladies does nothing but make them vulnerable to these sorts of creatures."

"I certainly agree with your mother, however some ladies are too willful and headstrong to allow even common sense to help them."

"Miss Bennet?"

"My youngest sisters are completely wild. I would not want to think it, but I know perfectly well that Lydia would take little seducing. I think, I hope, however, that she would be too thoughtless to keep it a secret from us. Of course it would spread immediately and we'd be ruined. Perhaps your cousin should be thankful for my thinking my blind prejudice to be so very clever."

"I do not understand. Why would Darcy be pleased that you were taken in by a scoundrel?"

"Well, I might have agreed to marry him, otherwise."

"What?!"

"You're right. Given his incomparable rudeness and the way he insulted me it's very unlikely I'd have said yes, but I might have been more civil about it. I certainly wouldn't have thought him dishonourable, however ill-humoured he might be. Though I expect he has reasons for his ill-humour," she added, looking at the letter.

"Marry?"

"What did you think he'd proposed?"

"I didn't think he'd proposed at all!" Shocked as he was, he still found the look of horror on the lady's face amusing.

"He didn't tell you that."

"No, he neglected to mention it. It does explain why he looked so miserable this morning. Now, since we've been dreadfully improper since I found you here, let us carry on in the same manner. Tell me everything about your acquaintance with my cousin from the moment you were introduced."

She laughed, "I will start slightly before that, if you don't mind."

Miss Bennet was an excellent storyteller and Richard enjoyed the tale greatly. He did endeavour to explain Darcy's thoughts and feelings however. "I am certain Darcy did not meant to insult you at the assembly. He has never been comfortable in crowds and given what happened in Ramsgate..."

"Yes. And had I not spent the last twenty years being told I'm nothing to Jane I might have been more philosophical."

"I do agree that his manners need work. I shall set my mother upon him when we return to town."

Elizabeth returned to the parsonage and Richard to Rosings. The next morning the gentlemen left. Elizabeth spent her final couple of weeks in Kent trying to come to terms with her newfound self-awareness, and tried not to appear too disheartened.

Marianne Dashwood was not well. She tried to hide it from her family, knowing how worried they had been for her recently. She could not get Willoughby out of her head, no matter how villainous he might have been. She felt very sorry for Miss Williams, but was quite sure she would not have been so weak to succumb. And yet her behaviour had been rife with improprieties. Dear Elinor had tried to tell her but she would not listen. In low moments Marianne felt that she very well could have ruined them all. That was very upsetting, but what made her truly despise herself was the way she'd treated Elinor. She had belittled her sister's feelings, believing they could barely exist if they did not fit her notions. And the way she'd behaved when Lucy and Edward's engagement had been revealed! She cringed to think of Elinor attempting to comfort her.

"Marianne?"

And there was the object of her thoughts. She smiled at her sister.

"Mama has taken Margaret into Barton Village."

"I am glad to hear it. Meg could not have taken another day of rain!"

"No, she would have driven us all mad," Elinor paused, watching her sister. "Marianne, I know something is wrong. Will you not allow me to help you?"

Try as she might, Marianne could not stop the tears from falling. "Oh, Elinor! How can you be so selfless when I do nothing but injure you?"

"Injure me?"

"I constantly cause you pain, I never even know when you need help and yet you're constantly looking after me!"

"That is because I am the elder sister," Elinor teased, joining Marianne on the piano bench and embracing her. "It is also because I am reserved, like our father was, and you have Mama's open temper."

"I never asked what your feelings about Edward were. I just assumed that I knew. Will you tell me now?"

"Let us get some tea and sit in the parlous. However comfortable you may be, I am not used to sitting at the piano for any length and I suspect this will be a long tale."

Once they were settled Elinor began. "I did develop feelings for Edward while we were still at Norland. I was convinced that he reciprocated my feelings because Fanny seemed to think he did. His behaviour, however, puzzled me exceedingly. I did not know what to think. And then he came to visit us here. And still his behaviour made no sense. It was as clear to me as it was to you, he came to see me. But he could not afford to marry me and his mother would never allow it. I was upset. If he truly loved me then he would have realised that raising my hopes when things were so uncertain was cruel. And then Lucy came. I was incensed. He knew he was engaged and yet he stayed at Norland and visited us here. He was clearly thinking only of himself. I could not love someone so thoughtless, so selfish. How could I marry a man who gave so little thought to the pain he would cause me? I will always consider him a friend, but by the time his engagement became public I was quite easy with the knowledge and felt no pain."

"And then Lucy ran off with his brother."

"Yes. That was a difficult conversation. He claimed that he had convinced himself that I was not affected, and yet the moment he was free he came to secure my hand. He was not pleased to hear that I was unable to respect him in the way I would wish to respect my husband."

"Poor Edward."

"I am certain that he will survive and love again."

"Thank you, Elinor. I feel I understand you better now. And you have a far better list of requirements for a husband than I."

"You are no me, Marianne, of course your list will be different. Now, I have answered your questions. Will you not answer mine?"

Marianne sighed. "I wish I could. I know not what is wrong, but I do know that there is something amiss. I cannot rouse myself to any employment, not even music. I have no energy for anything, I have no appetite. I wish only to sleep." She eyed her sister momentarily. "No matter what I do I cannot get Willoughby out of my head. I know that I could never had been happy with the man he is and yet I still love him."

"You love the man you thought he was. As I love the man I imagined Edward to be. I suspect that that love will never truly leave us, we must learn to cope with it as best we can."

Colonel Brandon turned at the sound of his name. "Fitzwilliam! This is a pleasure. What brings you to London?"

"I've been promoted to General and transferred to the War Office to see to the training of recruits."

"Congratulations! Your family must be pleased."

"Mama is thrilled I won't be in the thick of the fighting and father finds every possibility he can to mention his son, General Fitzwilliam."

"And are you hard at work or do you have time for visiting?"

"I'm on leave till the Autumn, unless something happens."

"Then I must take the opportunity to invite you to Dorset."

"Wonderful! I look forward to seeing what you've made of the place. I'm to my cousin in Derbyshire in August, and my parents for now. Perhaps July would suit?"

"I shall expect you then."

The two parted ways. General Fitzwilliam was headed to his mother, intending to relate the tale of Darcy's disastrous courtship and obtain her help in civilising the man. Colonel Brandon was headed to Gracechurch Street. He found the house he was looking for and was admitted. He was directed to a drawing room, but found himself drawn to the parlour beside it. Music had always been his weakness. He was not surprised to see a little girl at the piano, the playing was clearly that of someone just starting to learn. What had caught his ear was the rich, warm contralto that was carrying the other voices - children's voices - through a well-known hymn. The pianist was the first to notice him and stopped playing abruptly.

"Forgive my intrusion, Mrs Gardiner, I'm afraid I cannot ignore the siren's song."

Her laughter was rich with the music of her voice. "I am not Mrs Gardiner, but her niece, Miss Bennet. I shall fetch her for you."

"I would like to meet your aunt, but it is you that I am here to see."

"Me, sir?"

"Indeed. I am tasked with delivering vital correspondence to you and instructed to kidnap you should you not acquiesce to the demands made of you."

This time the laughter came from behind him. The deep rumble of a male and a high tinkling female giggle.

"Mr and Mrs Gardiner?" he asked, turning around. They nodded. "I am Colonel Brandon, currently playing postmaster for Miss Dashwood."

While the introductions were taking place, Jane had been reading her letter. "Oh, Aunt, Uncle! Elinor has invited me to Barton for the summer!"

"Your father will not be pleased for both you and Lizzy to be away at the same time again so soon, but I'm sure we can convince him."

"Besides," Mrs Gardiner added, "he'd best get used to it as you girls are sure to marry soon."

"Pending your family's agreement, I will be leaving town in a fortnight and will happily escort you to Barton at that time." All agreed that this was a sensible plan and the Colonel was invited to dine with them.

In bed that evening, Jane reread Elinor's letter, one part in particular.

It appears that while Lucy Steele is now Mrs Ferrars, she has managed to attain her goal of wealth as she is now Mrs Robert Ferrars. We owe our intelligence to Edward, who came at once with the intention of engaging himself to me. I am afraid that you will think less of me when I tell you that I lied to Marianne. She is still quite fragile and I wanted to spare her feelings, so I told her only that the conversation was difficult, and said nothing of how painful I found it. To tell the man I love that I do not want to marry someone so thoughtless and selfish! How I longed for your support!

I think Marianne is coming to realise that marriage requires more than merely passionate love. I fear that the knowledge came too late. I know not the circumstances, but I have noticed a change in the Colonel's manner to her. It was only once we came to London that I noticed he had the tender regard for her that Mrs Jennings made so much of. Since her illness he has treated her in much the same way as I imagine he does his ward. He is gentle and caring, but there is no more tenderness than one would expect from an uncle. She has not noticed the alteration, but I cannot help but wonder at it. I know he saw in her a resemblance to his beloved cousin, so perhaps that faded?

I do hope you will come to stay. Not only will it help Marianne, it will be a comfort to me.

Jane sighed and tucked the letter away. She hoped her father would give her permission to go to Barton. She did not like to dwell on it, but she'd always envied Lizzy's friendship with Charlotte. She had never really had a close friend that she wasn't related to. She loved both Lizzy and Charlotte, but could not relate to the former's cynicism or the latter's harsh practicality. Elinor's reasonable realism suited her far better. It balanced her optimistic candour without calling her worldview into question.

She did not wish to stay in town. Knowing that Caroline - Miss Bingley - who she'd thought was the friend she'd always longed for was so close to her and yet so far from her at the same time hurt. And the knowledge that Mr Bingley was in town with no desire to see her was even more hurtful. She did not, however, want to go home. Her mother was at home and as much as she loved her, she could not face her concern and anxiety over Mr Bingley. She did wish to see Lizzy again, letters were not enough, but she didn't feel she could explain her feelings properly in the face of Lizzy's assured opinions.