If you arrived directly on this page, stop reading! Go back TWO chapters, to "A Little Lace," the final chapter of "Colors." After that I posted some comments about the story and about your wonderful reviews.

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And this is the beginning of a new story, The Governess.

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Dear Reader,

When Mr. Darcy saw Elizabeth Bennett again, three years after his ill-fated declaration of love at Huntsford, she was in an elegant London drawing room. Or rather, he heard her voice outside in the hall and recognized it instantly – she was speaking to Mrs. Bainsley's children. "No, Georgie," Elizabeth said, laughingly, "This is not an appropriate topic for a nine-year-old child. In fact, I was just telling your elder sister, about romance, that she – I will explain later."

Then Elizabeth entered the drawing room followed by two little boys. "Good evening, Miss Bennett," Darcy said immediately, trying to contain the surprise and emotion in his voice. As she turned to him, he saw she was wearing a simple, practical grey dress, and he realized: she was the governess.

The understanding petrified him for a full second. She met his eyes, he saw the flash of recognition – she became very white.

"Good evening, Mr. Darcy," she answered, with a perfectly polite smile. There was a dreadful, awkward pause. Near the fireplace, Mrs. Bainsley, the hostess, was busy conferring with the housekeeper about some fish-related tragedy. A sister – or a married aunt – was fussing with her own daughter, while a Mr. Garrett conversed with his wife. Fortunately, none of these people paid any attention to Elizabeth and Darcy – he had lost his voice. Many feelings collided – he had to speak. He forced himself to make the appropriate inquiries.

He asked about Elizabeth's family – she explained that her father had died – Darcy offered condolences, horribly conscious of the stiffness of his tone – Elizabeth countered with a very formal question about his sister – he was about to answer when Mrs. Bainsley turned to them after all. "And here are my wonderful little darlings!" she cried, walking to the children. Elizabeth stepped back and Darcy attempted to acknowledge the habitual series of anecdotes and accomplishments – in truth his mind was reeling.

Then the pretty Miss Bainsley entered and Mrs. Bainsley brought her directly to Darcy and began matchmaking allusions. When he managed to end the conversation, the children had vanished, along with Elizabeth.

The dinner chime rang and Darcy escorted Miss Bainsley to the dining room. The discussion was not unpleasant. Miss Bainsley was sweetly behaved, if a little shy, and the father was a very interesting fellow – his conversation was the reason Darcy had accepted the invitation to dinner; he loved to discuss business and politics in intelligent company – but tonight he was in a haze.

"I see that you were conversing with our Miss Bennett, Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Bainsley began, over the meat course.

"Yes," Darcy answered, in a very neutral tone. "I met Miss Bennett in Hertfordshire, a few years ago."

"So you know about that awful, awful story… Do not listen, my dear," Mrs. Bainsley enjoined her daughter, before lowering her voice to a theatrical whisper that everybody in the room could hear.

"Miss Bennett's younger sister, a Miss Lydia, I believe, ran away with an officer. They were not married – in fact, she was never found again."

"Oh, how dreadful, Mama," the pretty Miss Bainsley exclaimed.

"Shh, shh, my dear, this conversation is not for your ears, you are too innocent for all of this," her mother protested, before continuing unabashedly, "then the father died, and the estate was entailed – to some cousin – and as it turns out, their mother's inheritance was reduced to almost nothing – bad investments… But she is a very genteel, mannerly kind of person, Miss Elizabeth, I mean."

"She is most agreeable," Miss Bainsley said, with sincerity in her tone. "I do so enjoy her company." Mr. Darcy looked at Miss Bainsley with more warmth he had all evening – a mistake, because her mother caught it, and smiled.

"It speaks of the goodness of your heart, I am sure" she said, "to be friendly with such an unfortunate creature."

"Miss Bennett is quite clever," the father commented, "I believe she is a good influence on the children."

Then the talk turned to the news of the North and the latest London plays – Mr. Darcy couldn't have repeated a word that passed. She was there – in this house – certainly upstairs, in the study room and – very selfishly – Darcy could only think of his own behaviour. He must have sounded so embarrassed, so haughty – like he wanted to flee from the connexion – thus demonstrating that all Elizabeth said at Huntsford was true.

He had not seen Elizabeth since the day he gave her that letter, in Rosings Park, after her refusal. And – God – tonight, he had not even taken leave of her, he realized with horror. Elizabeth and the children left the room while he was engaged with Mrs. Bainsley, before he had a chance to say… anything. And now, he fixated on that short encounter instead of considering Elizabeth's situation – she did not appear in bad health, in fact she was still beautiful, more beautiful even than he remembered – she had been smiling happily when she came into the room – before she saw him and paled – God. Suddenly dinner was over, port and cigars with the men seemed interminable, but when Darcy returned to the drawing room with the ladies, Elizabeth was nowhere in sight. Why would she be? Of course the children were in bed now.

He felt restless, almost sick. Mrs. Bainsley invited him to dinner again, on Thursday, and he accepted with alacrity, noting that Mrs. Bainsley exchanged a look with her daughter and smiled.

When it was time to go, Mr. Darcy said privately to Mrs. Bainsley:

"Might I trouble you to give my salutations to Miss Bennett? I did not properly take leave of her earlier."

The suspicion in Mrs. Bainsley's eyes was instantaneous, so that Mr. Darcy added, in as an indifferent a tone he could, "I dined at her house twice when I was in Hertfordshire – and my friend, Charles Bingley, received Miss Elizabeth and her sister as guests. It would be very rude for me to not treat her with all the possible courtesies."

Mrs. Bainsley softened. "Oh, you are absolutely right – so generous – again, what a terrible situation." She went on a new ramble about how dreadful the lives of the Bennett sisters were now, and how humiliating the situation must have been for all of them.

Mr. Darcy had to listen politely, even when Mrs. Bainsley implied how noble it had been for Mr. Bainsley to take Elizabeth as a governess despite her sister's conduct – Mr. Darcy could not bear it anymore. He left at last.

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And did not sleep. Elizabeth's look, while she was listening to him in the drawing room – the expression of her face when she heard the coldness of his formal words – and then he had turned away – he was responding to Mrs. Bainsley, but of course Elizabeth would have thought he had cut her on purpose. Truly, he felt sick – a strong reaction, for the sake of someone he had not seen in three years and who had rejected his advances. Darcy tried to turn his thoughts in another, more useful direction. What could he do to help Elizabeth? But that was the most awful realization – nothing. He could not give her money – she would refuse it – and if such a gift were known, her reputation would be ruined. He could, he suppose, try to find her a more comfortable situation, perhaps as a companion in a more aristocratic family – but even that could raise suspicions, and she had not asked for his help.

Maybe she was happy where she was – well, as happy as possible in a subaltern situation. Miss Bainsley seemed like a genuinely good-hearted person, and so was the father, at least – there were many worse situations for someone in Elizabeth's circumstances – but – now, alone in his bedchamber, Darcy had the irrational desire to take her in his arms and comfort her – what a ridiculous thought when she had always despised him, your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others… But the fact that she rejected him made it worse, not better.

Darcy pictured Georgiana, his young, beloved sister, forced into the same situation by some cruel twist of fate and meeting an erstwhile lover whom she had refused – and then the man spiting her, snubbing her, because of her new circumstances. The thought was almost unbearable – somewhere a bell rang three – he had to see Elizabeth again, if only to make her understand – understand what? Well, that he was courteous, at the very least – and when the night passed, she kept haunting his thoughts – Thursday evening couldn't come too soon.

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Darcy waited for the second dinner with as much apprehension as anticipation... he could not be certain he would see Elizabeth. Mrs. Bainsley might not want to parade the children tonight. Or, she might want to spare Mr. Darcy the "embarrassment" of meeting his old acquaintance and order Miss Bennett to keep to her room.

But all his fears were for naught because when Darcy entered, Elizabeth was already in the drawing room with the children. He had come very early, with this purpose in mind. It was an awkward hour. Their hostess had not completely finished the preparations, but he was still ushered in, and the woman he knew now was Mrs. Bainsley's sister had just returned from some shopping with two friends, which was fortunate because they were all fussing over the children.

Mr. Darcy walked to Elizabeth directly.

"How are you, today, Miss Bennett?" he asked, very formally.

"Very well, thank you, sir" she said, with an impeccable smile – she must have been anticipating his coming and was prepared. But she was clearly ready to see him walking away and he caught the surprise on her face when he deliberately continued the conversation.

"The children seem well behaved. I remember frightening my governess to death by climbing trees and disappearing into the bushes. Do your charges give you any difficulty?"

Elizabeth laughed – hearing her was a wonder – and then retained a much more genuine smile when she said, "Mr. Darcy, I am very surprised that you were such a wild boy! But, no, the Bainsley children are better behaved than you were, sir. Although, to be honest, there are not many trees for them to climb here in town. I worry, in fact, that they are not outdoors enough. I try to get them to the park as much as I can."

"There are more and more musicians in the parks, nowadays, have you noticed?" Darcy continued, and he resolutely kept talking – about a very talented violinist who was playing under an oak tree and even refused his money.

Elizabeth was trying to hide her astonishment – not about what he said, of course, about the fact that he was talking to her at all – but he feared his tone was forced, artificial, so artificial – finally, he stopped, and said, in an earnest voice, "Miss Bennett, please allow me to tell you again how sorry I am about the death of your father – I heard about how trying a time it was for you, and…"

He stopped – she had tears in her eyes. Without thinking, he put his hand on her arm – she looked at him, and then they both realized that Mrs. Bainsley had been watching them from the entrance of the drawing room.

"If you will excuse me," Elizabeth said, after a quick curtsy. She retired with the children soon after – again, he had not the opportunity to say goodnight.

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(You can find the rest of the story on Amazon and on Kindle, under the name "The Governess" by Laura Moretti.)