Pride and Prejudice 1. Chapter 1

Author's note - This is my first JAFF. It's a Regency story beginning in the late spring of 1812. Neither Elizabeth nor Darcy visit Kent, but rather they both attempt to travel to North America for very different reasons. Along the way, a violent storm wrecks the ship and our favorite couple finds themselves stranded on a deserted island alone together. PG-13

I will admit the title of this story turned out to be rather ironic. I had different intentions for this tale when I first began, but as all writers know, sometimes the story and the characters guide you instead of the other way around. As a result, it's a bit more angsty than I originally intended. Have no fear - I file this story under angst/romance for a reason.

_Revised and Reposted - 03/09/2007_

* * *

Chapter 1 

"I must remember to pull the curtains closed at night," Elizabeth Bennet thought to herself as her eyes struggled to blink open. The intensely bright sun shone into her fine eyes and she turned her head to avoid its cruel brilliance; a delicate hand reaching up to shield herself from any additional torture from its rays. She could not recall the last time she awoke with such a headache and groaned rather audibly into her hands.

Elizabeth suddenly became more aware of herself and her surroundings as the back of her protective hands grazed the prickly fabric of the blanket beneath her. She removed one hand gradually from her face and turned it towards the offending material. It was thick and gray, not anything she was accustomed to. Curiosity and fear overcame her concern for the pain in her head as she quickly removed her other hand from her eyes and found herself gazing directly into the side of a wooden barrel. Her head immediately spun itself around, much to her dismay as it only caused her to quickly recall the reason for the careful guarding of her eyes. The combination of the rapid movement and the bright sun caused a severe reaction in the pit of Elizabeth's stomach, which quickly found its way to the back of her throat. Relief was found in only one option, the immediate necessity of which caused the young woman to abruptly stand and placing one hand on the closest tree, she leaned forward and found her momentary relief.

Quite disgusted with herself, she leaned back and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, an old habit from her childhood resurfacing. Her other hand was still pressed against the tree as she could not find her balance to stand without it. She quickly realized that her reliance for stability was on an object that most certainly was not found in her bedroom at Longbourn. Remembering her former folly, she slowly turned her head about herself and was quite at a loss to understand her environment. To her right was the blanket from whence she came and the barrel that had so disturbed her. Beyond those items there were several other barrels, a few wooden crates and a trunk that she did not recognize. Turning again to the right she was struck with intense astonishment. Before her was the bright blue sea, ever expanding into the horizon, with waves softly crashing onto the sandy beach. She stared out at it, not knowing quite what else to do. She was frozen and unable to think, not even to consider the formally hateful sun that no longer seemed to bother her wide, dark eyes, except to cause them to blink every so often. Her heart was beating uncommonly fast and her breathing suddenly became too quick for her to handle as she fell forward, knees landing ungracefully into the sand.

Her mouth dropped open but no words were found. She was finally able to tear her eyes away from the scene directly in front of her in order to take in more of her surroundings. Turning to the right again, she realized that the beach took a sharp turn and she could not see land more than one hundred feet beyond herself. To her left, the beach seemed to go on for several miles before also turning away. Behind her was her friend, the tree, surrounded by a multitude of its kin, becoming too thick for her to see more than twenty feet beyond.

"How…?" was the only word that seemed appropriate to say, if anything was necessary considering her seemingly solitary situation. Without any memory of how she came to be in her present state, she stood up gingerly with the intention of inspecting the objects that she had previous been sleeping amongst. The barrels and crates did not seem to be opened and therefore their contents were currently a mystery. Her blanket, she realized, was actually two, one being thrown to the side, possibly in her sleep. Not far in front of her were the remains of a fire, the coal still smoking slightly. "Who…?" was the only other word her lips could find.

"Miss Bennet! You are awake!" cried a familiar voice behind her. Elizabeth quickly spun around to look at the lofty figure moving towards her, but unfortunately her former ailment quickly accosted her yet again. Clutching her stomach, she slowly moved herself down into the sand, clenching her teeth in hopes that the wave of discomfort would pass if she stayed perfectly still. In the meantime, the tall man from the wood that had called out to her dropped the bundle of sticks that he was carrying and ran directly to her side.

"Are you alright? Are you ill?" He was kneeling in front of her, his large hands wrapped around her shoulders. She would have looked up or better yet scolded the man for his lack of propriety if she did not fear that her present state would result in the same way that it had done not long before. She wished more than anything for that not to happen. She was resolved to remain quite still and silent until the feeling past. Unfortunately, there was no way to communicate this plan to the gentleman before her and he began to lightly shake her in an attempt to gain her attention.

"Good God! Miss Bennet, please answer me! Are you alright?" Her answer was not at all what he expected and was also exactly what Elizabeth had hoped to avoid. She managed to turn herself around before the unpleasantness occurred, thereby sparing the gentleman from having to share in her discomfort. "Oh my… let me get you some water."

While the act itself was something she thoroughly disliked, the relief it brought made her sigh and say a quick prayer. Before she could take anytime to ponder all that had just occurred, the gentleman had returned and was bearing a glass of water in his hand. Holding it up to her lips, he tipped it up forcing her to drink, while he instructed, "Here. Drink as much as you can. You are very dehydrated, and you will continue to be sick unless you get some sustenance in you." Barely hearing him, she reached up and took the glass from his hands and drank with such a need that she had never known before. When the glass was empty, she found him taking it out of her hands and her eyes followed the glass to the man. She looked into his eyes, squinting and breathing heavily, she found her voice.

"_Mr. Darcy_!" she said between breaths, "What are we doing here? What happened?"

"Come. I'll explain it all to you later. Right now you need food and water and rest." He placed a hand under her arm and gently pulled her up. Wavering as she stood, she reached up and took a firm grasp of his shirt before falling into him. "You are not strong enough to be walking about yet," he said matter-of-factly and without further conversation reached down and lifted Elizabeth into his arms and carried her over to the blankets. He placed her down lightly, his breath on her face as he released her. "There. Now don't move."

Awestruck at what had just occurred, her eyes followed him as he lifted the top of one of the nearby crates and took out a small yellowish orange fruit. He placed it on top of one of the barrels, reached behind him, took out a large knife, and began to slice it into pieces. After carving it, he brought the pieces over to Elizabeth who eyed the fruit suspiciously. "If you don't eat…"

"Yes, I know that I _should_ eat, Mr. Darcy, the problem lies with whether or not I _can_," she interrupted, "I fear that whatever I eat will not agree with me."

"You will be surprised how much better you will feel once you have something in your stomach," he retorted. She sighed and took the fruit from him. She had to admit she felt a little better since drinking the water, and conceded that perhaps the fruit would have an even greater effect. Elizabeth hesitantly brought the food to her lips and felt astonished as she took her first taste. It tasted remarkably like a peach and even looked a little like one, pit and all. She continued enjoying it, forgetting her previous illness entirely.

Meanwhile, Darcy sat down in the sand near her and watched her eat. At first she was too occupied with her meal to take notice of his gaze, but when she briefly looked up she was taken aback by his intent look. "Is there something in my manner of chewing that offends you, Mr. Darcy?" The sides of his mouth turned slightly upright before converting back into a look of solemn concern.

"No. As a matter of fact I am delighted to see you eating, to see you awake even. You have been asleep for two days and…"

"Two days!" Elizabeth cried.

"Yes, well more like thirty-six hours," he continued, "I was fearful that you would never wake, so to see you as you are now, well, it is a great relief to me." Elizabeth eyed him closely as he spoke and as he finished she thought she could detect tears in his eyes, but he quickly turned away and stood before she could determine if it was so. Picking up the glass once again, he walked over to the crate from which he had earlier extracted the fruit and pulled out of it a ceramic jug. After pouring water into the glass he brought it over to her.

"Would you not like some for yourself, sir?" she asked, holding out a piece of fruit to him.

He held up a hand, "No, thank you, I've had quite enough." She gestured for him to sit and again he refused her, "No, actually there is much to do and only a few hours of daylight left. There will be plenty of time for discussion later. In he meantime, I need to collect as much wood as possible and get the fire going again." She nodded, "But can you not tell me how it is we came to be here. And these things, where did they come from?"

"Madam, please try and understand that it is going to be dark soon, very dark, and cold. The need for a fire will be great indeed, much greater than your need for an explanation. Please hold your questions until I have accomplished this task."

"Very well," she conceded, "What can I do to help you, to speed this process along?"

"Exactly what you are doing. Stay here and eat. Get your strength back; I believe you are going to need it." With that he walked into the forest and Elizabeth's eyes followed him until he was no longer in sight.

* * *

For a little over an hour, Elizabeth sat on her blanket and watch the tide move in, trying to remember something, anything that could explain her present condition. Every so often, Darcy would emerge out of the trees with a pile of wood in his hands and add it to the heap. She did as she was told, although it pained her to do so for she dearly wished to discuss their situation but she understood completely the need for a fire, especially as the sun started to set and it began to get darker. Feeling as though she had some of her strength back, she rose cautiously, leaning on her former foe, the barrel, and taking a closer look at their stash. She was not sure how she had missed it before but there was a small rowboat pulled on shore, almost to the trees, just beyond the wood pile. The sight of it brought back flashes of memory that caused Elizabeth to close her eyes in hopes of bringing about more recollections. Alas, it was not to be, and as quickly as the flashes came they were gone again and only left behind the dreadful feeling of being cold and very wet. 

Elizabeth shivered at the sensation and wrapped her arms around herself. Only then did she begin to comprehend her current physical state. Her white cotton dress was severely stained and had an uncomfortable rigid feeling, the result of being thoroughly soaked in salt water and dried out again. Her brown, silk pelisse was a ghastly site and her gloves were missing. Her black satin shoes looked surprising decent, the sand and the salt residue falling easily off when touched. Her bonnet was missing as well and she was mourning its loss as she recalled the abusive rays of the sun. Her hair was what gave her the most misery and she was almost glad she could not see herself. It was tangled and stiff; several pins were still present, although they served no purpose. She pulled them out and tried to run her fingers through the mess. As she struggled, Mr. Darcy unexpectedly appeared with another pile of wood. Elizabeth was suddenly embarrassed by her appearance and turned away from him.

"I believe I had better get the fire started again before darkness is upon us," he told her, gathering his supplies about him and kneeling by the fire pit. She did not reply but awkwardly tried to mend her disheveled exterior while at the same time trying to look as if she was not concerned with it. The sight struck Darcy as very humorous when he looked up at her and he failed to suppress a light chuckle at her endeavor. Elizabeth wanted to scold him for this but saw the absurdity of her situation and could not help herself from laughing along with him. The scene she found herself in – on a deserted beach in an unknown location with _Mr. Darcy,_ laughing – was not one that even her imaginative mind could have conjured in the past. This thought brought her back to reality and seeing that Darcy had a small fire going she ventured forward and asked, "Will you now explain, sir, how we come to find ourselves so disagreeably situated?"

"Miss Bennet, while I understand your opinion perfectly, I find I cannot wholly agree with you. While our situation does seem dire, I believe it could be much worse." With this clever reply that very purposefully avoided the question, Darcy rose and retrieved the blankets, the water jug and the glass before addressing her again. "You will understand soon enough. Please make yourself comfortable, this story will take some time."


	2. Chapter 2

_Revised and Reposted 5/24/2007_

Chapter 2

Taking the blanket from his hands, Elizabeth shook it lightly to remove some of the sand before wrapping it around herself. Her eyes never left Darcy's figure as she situated her body in the sand. He was moving about their supplies, opening and closing crates. She could not make out exactly what he was doing in the darkness beyond the fire but she did hear the unmistakable squeak of the metal hinges of a trunk. When he returned, he was wearing a dark blue woolen coat and he stood before her, staring into the fire for several minutes without talking. At this moment, Elizabeth realized that she finally had the time and the inclination to examine her companion.

Beneath his coat he wore a white linen shirt that was as soiled as her dress. It was open at the neck and Elizabeth blushed and looked away for a moment when she realized that he was not wearing the perfectly tied cravat that she was so used to seeing on him. In fact, his whole manner of dress was quite shocking to her, never had she imagined seeing Mr. Darcy so informally attired. She looked up again when she understood that Darcy took no notice of her attentions and stared at him quite openly until he looked up to meet her eye.

* * *

Darcy stood in front of the fire for several minutes, unable to comprehend how to begin the conversation that he knew must take place. He did not want to be the one to bring Elizabeth pain but he did not see a way to avoid it. He knew her well enough to know that she expected the full truth, but he could not help but be apprehensive about doing so. 

He glanced up at her and noticed that she was staring at him expectantly. He felt at odds with himself when he looked into her eyes. Part of him wanted to run to her side and hold her and the other wanted to walk away and avoid her completely. This was exactly his mind the moment he stepped onto the _Jane_ (1.) and saw her on deck. He was not sure if it was divine fate or the devil's curse that brought them both to seek passage to the west aboard the same ship.

He had spent the winter months trying to forget her and that regrettable time spent in Hertfordshire. Doing so meant throwing himself into his business ventures and the management of his estates. Being young and liberal-minded he took the advice of an old friend and professor at Cambridge and decided to travel to Canada to scout out prospects for new areas of investment. He knew he was being rather irrational by making the journey himself, surely he could have sent someone with less responsibilities in his place. But Darcy felt constrained and unnatural within the society of his class and frankly felt the need for some adventure before being forced to settle down and marry some wearisome, snobbish "lady." Being forced to take over the estates and also the guardianship of his younger sister at the early age of twenty-three, Darcy had little time for the experiences that his peers reveled in. He was a serious student at Cambridge; although he realized now that he was merely trying to be everything that Wickham was not. And after, he had only a matter of months before his excellent father's death. Since that time, he did everything that was expected of him and very little for himself. Even the trip to Hertfordshire, which was supposed to be a bit of time off, was really for Bingley's benefit.

He boarded that ship with the innocent hope of making some great discovery and anticipated returning a new man. These dreams came crashing down the moment he looked into her eyes. He had only been on board for a few hours and was walking around as his valet was organizing his belongings in his cabin. His quarters were much smaller than he was used to, but at least he had a private space, which was more than most on board could ask for. With his hands behind his back and an uncharacteristic smile on his lips, he stood on deck and watched the coast of Scotland disappear from view. But with a slight turn to the right he was undone. She was standing no more than fifteen feet away from him with another young woman he did not recognize. She looked different than he remembered, not quite so confident and cheerful. He recognized immediately that she was troubled and her anxiety increased ten-fold when her gaze met his.

She swallowed and momentarily looked out to sea before turning back to him. He knew he must approach her and address her even though he knew that neither wanted that event to take place. It was unavoidable though; if they were to be on the same ship for several weeks they must acknowledge each other's presence.

After moving toward her, he bowed and casually spoke, "Miss Bennet." She replied with a slight curtsy, "Mr. Darcy." They looked about themselves awkwardly, neither knowing what to say to the other. Eventually Elizabeth's curiosity won out.

"I find I am quite shocked at seeing you here, sir."

"Yes, I must say the same about you, madam."

"I suppose you are traveling to Canada for some sort of business."

"You are quite right." He kept his hands firmly clasped behind his back for fear if he released them she might see the slight tremble of his fingers.

"I am surprised that you would take such time away from your responsibilities in England to travel so far. I hope the matter is quite worth it."

His mouth flinched slightly as he comprehended her words. "Yes, I believe so." She turned slightly away from him and before she could take her leave he gathered his wits and asked, "And you, madam, you travel for pleasure I presume."

"You presume incorrectly," she answered, pursing her lips together. When she did not continue he decided to risk angering her by asking, "Miss Bennet, are you quite alright?"

"Yes sir, I am. Now if you will excuse me I must be going." She briskly pushed past him and he bowed out of reflex despite the fact that she never saw it.

He saw her everyday for a week, but only during meals. She made a concerted effort to avoid him and as a result they barely spoke. His mind was filled with thoughts of her. He was becoming more and more desperate to discover her reasons for travel, especially as it seemed as though she was traveling alone. He spoke to the captain about her in hopes of gaining some information, but that man was useless when it came to knowledge about his passengers. The only interaction he had with anyone but his crew was during mealtime and even then he spoke very little. The only knowledge he had of Elizabeth was that she was indeed on board alone and that she arrived at his ship alone as well.

Nine days after the _Jane_ set sail, Darcy decided that his concern for Elizabeth's welfare and his own curiosity were becoming too much for him to bear. After dinner one night, he approached her and asked for an interview on deck. She was reluctant at first but he was able to convince her that he had something of importance to discuss with her and she relented. Once on deck, they stood away from the other passengers. This was rather an easy task since the wind was picking up and many preferred the shelter down below. Pulling her shawl about her tightly she turned to him.

"Mr. Darcy, I believe you said there was something of importance that you wished to discuss with me."

"Yes. You must forgive me, Miss Bennet, but I am concerned. I could not help but notice that you seem to be traveling alone. Knowing you and your family, I cannot comprehend what would cause you to leave their protection. If you would be so kind as to share with me your troubles, perhaps I could do something to help you."

"You presume a lot, sir. _If,_ in fact, my traveling as such is the result of a difficulty at home, believe me when I say this, there is little chance that you could ever induce me to be explicit. You are barely an acquaintance to me."

"That may be true, but I can hardly stand by whilst you travel so without offering my assistance. Miss Bennet, perhaps I am wrong to assume so, but I am guessing that you do not have anywhere to go once we reach land."

"Sir, it appears as though you have a knack for presuming incorrectly when it comes to me and my affairs. I do have somewhere to stay, with an old friend who moved to New York with her husband four years ago. I have written to her of my impending arrival and have no doubt that she will gladly take me into her home.

"Your speech seems to indicate that your plans are not fixed. Tell me, did you leave England hastily?"

"Again you presume that you are entitled to that information! But I will again appease you. Yes, I left with only three days of planning and my family was unaware of my departure and my destination."

"Miss Bennet, it grieves me to hear this. If my own sister was to leave the only world that she has known in such haste and with such secrecy, I believe I would fear the worst. And for you to travel all the way to New York from Canada alone is also rather risky and expensive. Are you not concerned that your family would greatly morn your loss?"

"Of course! I left a letter to be delivered to my father several days after our departure. I wanted to ensure he knew the reasons for my leaving and also where I would be going. I do not expect anyone to follow me across the world and that is why I have chosen to travel so far. As for the risk, I am quite willing to face it and the expense as well."

"But, madam, what could have caused you to make such a rash decision?"

"Mr. Darcy, I appreciate your interest," she spoke with obvious disdain, "But again, sir, I must remind you, my life and anything in this world that relates to me is none of your concern." She gripped her shawl again and fiercely tugged it at her chest. "Have a good evening, have an uneventful journey, and may your business in the western world be successful." She meant these words, despite her resentment towards him, but she also meant them as a final goodbye. Darcy watched her leave until the last piece of material at the bottom of her skirt passed through the doorway and then he turned and tightly gripped the railing. A violent wind swept through him, whipping the tails of his coat upward and splashing his front with a memento from the sea. He was not sure how he was going to do it but he knew somehow he was going to help Elizabeth, in any way possible.

The fervent wind that accompanied Darcy and Elizabeth's confrontation intensified the next day. Darcy went to the captain to inquire about the stability of the ship in such a storm and was ensured of his safety. After two days of heavy rain, severe winds and some nausea-inducing swaying of the ship, the weather finally seemed to give in. Darcy walked the deck and tried to enjoy the sunlight while hoping to find Elizabeth once again. His efforts were in vain, however, it seemed as though she was successfully avoiding him. He tried to convince himself not to care, but this too was a hopeless task; he believed completely that it was his duty to protect her.

The following evening the storm returned with great intensity. All passengers were required to remain in their quarters. Unbeknownst to them, the captain and his crew were barely keeping the ship upright. Several men went overboard and were never seen again and the others worked through the terror that they too would not live another day. As the hours passed the conditions only grew worse and those onboard the _Jane_ grew more and more petrified. The ship rocked toward the sea several times causing those closed within it to tumble about themselves, triggering much distress and injury. Darcy sat on the floor of his quarters, gripping the side of his bed, and prayed. Above his room, he heard the screaming of a man over the screeching of the wind, "Land!" Within seconds, the ship struck the sand and Darcy could hear the loud cracking of wood. He immediately sprung up, threw on his coat, and ran out the door only to see to his horror that the ship had stuck a solitary mound of sand in the middle of an otherwise empty ocean. This he could barely see through a steady sideways downpour of rain and fleeting panic washed through him.

A member of the crew ran hastily past him and Darcy grabbed his shirt, stopping him. "What are we to do? Are we sunk?" The man grasped Darcy's wrist and replied with a strong expletive that indeed the ship had little life in it and it was every man for himself.

* * *

1. There was a ship named the _Jane_ that existed in the late 18th century. I know of at least one trip from Drimindarach, Scotland, leaving July 12, 1790 and arriving at Prince Edward Island with 111 adults and 73 children on board. I have no idea if it or any other passenger ship traveled from the UK to Canada in 1812 with the war beginning around the time this story takes place, but I liked the name. 


	3. Chapter 3

_Revised and Reposted 5/24/2007_

Chapter 3

"Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth's words brought Darcy's mind back to the present.

"I apologize. I was merely trying to decide where to begin." Darcy walked over to her side of the fire and placed himself within a few feet of her, her eyes following his every move as he sat down. "I believe I must ask you what it is that you remember last?"

"Well, I have flashes of memory. I remember the storm and being confined in a small room with four other women, clinging to each other as we were tossed about. I remember standing on the deck looking out at sea and seeing a wave larger than my home moving toward me and believing that it was my last moment on earth. I have a brief memory of clinging to someone and being carried as well as being wrapped in something tightly. That is all." She looked away and stared into the fire.

"I see. Well I believe I can fill in a few holes for you. Miss Bennet, I want to apologize in advance for what I tell you might bring you some distress but I believe you should know the whole story." Darcy cleared his throat and took a deep breath before continuing.

"At some point during the storm the captain seemed to lose control of the ship and of his men. When the large waves began to push the ship rapidly off course, the men seemed to lose their sanity and abandoned hope. Some jumped into the ocean and others just clung to the rails, immovable. We struck a tiny island of sand and the ship was pushed over it by the waves, but the damage was already done. We were sinking. I went on deck to ascertain what was going on but all I saw was chaos. The crew acting as I described, passengers were running and being tossed about. The immense waves were rocking the ship to the point of almost turning completely over. I watched, clinging to the doorway of the stairs, as what might have been twenty or thirty people disappeared over the side. It was as if the sea had formed a hand and simply plucked them into its grasp. I never saw them again.

"My mind was reeling and I was not sure how long I could keep holding on. After what felt like eternity, I realized that if the sea did not take me by force then the ship was going to give me away when it sank. There was a small rowboat tied near the bow and I saw it as my only chance." Darcy gestured absentmindedly toward the boat that Elizabeth saw earlier. "I decided to go back under and see if anyone was still alive and willing to come with me. I did not get far as everything was rapidly filling with water. Somehow after wading a few feet I found you, alone, near the stairway. You were having difficulty staying above water but you were feebly making your way toward the stairs. There were several bodies floating around you and I think you were in some sort of a daze, perhaps the shock of it all."

Darcy paused to gauge her reaction before continuing. "I know not how the others perished but you survived. I immediately helped you on deck and then somehow the storm miraculously subsided, although it was still raining rather heavily, the waves were no longer tossing the boat about as they were before. The ship was tipping toward the stern, however, and it started sinking with increasing speed. I moved us toward the bow and a wooden board, I know not from what, seemed to materialize out of thin air and struck you rather forcefully in the back of the head. I had to carrying you then and I placed you into the rowboat. I believe that it must have been the hand of God that placed me inside that boat with enough time to untie it from the doomed vessel before we were pulled under along with it.

"I had a moment of pure bliss followed by another of absolute dread as I knew not where to direct us. I allowed the natural movement of the sea to carry us in hopes it was toward something, anything. During this time, you laid unconscious at my feet. I tried to wake you, but to no avail. After only a few hours, I spotted land, this beach that we are now sitting on, and put all my effort into getting us here. I reached shore just as the rain stopped, just in time for the sun to rise. I pulled us ashore, placed you not far from where you awoke, watched the sun move over the trees, prayed and thanked God over an over and then succumbed to exhaustion.

"I awoke some time later to find you unchanged but still very much alive. There were also a few articles from the wreckage on shore, as you can see. The trunk was the most valuable find as it held the blankets and the water jug, as well as a pistol. I was hesitant to go to far from you but I did venture into the woods a bit to find firewood. There was little that was dry but I manage to locate some and started a fire from the flint in the gun. It did not last long but I managed to cover the coal in hopes of starting it again. I began to walk the beach and never was I more surprised when I walked around the bend there," Darcy pointed to the end of the beach that turned sharply away, "and saw a large portion of our ship wrecked on shore. I know not how it is possible, perhaps while one half was consumed by the sea the other was carried here by the large waves. It is a small section of the stern, but it is surrounded by many barrels, crates, trunks and various other items from the ship. I collected a few but I did not want to leave you alone long, so I came back to this side.

"Night soon followed. I did not rest much, for I was fearful of what might come upon us in the dark without a fire. This entire time you did not move. I managed to rest a bit this morning and awoke determined to collect more from the wreckage and find enough firewood so as to not to spend another night cold and sleepless. I was doing just that when I came upon you on the beach." He began to poke the fire with a large stick that had laid beside him. "I believe you know the rest of the story."

Elizabeth barely moved or uttered a sound during his narrative. Bits and pieces of memory flashed in her mind as he spoke, but nothing concrete. She could scarcely believe that she had lived through all that he had just told her. All those people, it must have been at least two hundred, and they were the only ones who survived? It cannot be. "What about the other boats?" she asked, her voice dry and hoarse.

"The other rowboats you mean?" She nodded. "I wish I knew. I saw the crew and a few of the passengers board one, but then a wave came and they were gone. I have no concept of their survival, although if we survived with the aide of a small craft then there is a distinct possibility that others did as well," Darcy responded, thinking out loud. "Perhaps there are more like us out there?" He looked up at her hopeful, then his eyes squinted and the optimism faded away. "No, it cannot be possible. When I saw the boat fall into the water the storm was still at its peak. By the time we got into our boat, it had subsided significantly. I cannot fathom anyone surviving that storm in such a small vessel."

"But there is a slight chance…," Elizabeth managed to speak despite her lack of confidence in her own words. They sat in silence, separately admiring the dancing flames, each with the same thought on their minds. Finally Elizabeth spoke it, "So what happens now?"

"We try and rest, tomorrow will be a long day I presume. I would like to gather as much of the wreckage as possible before the sea claims it again. Also, I am quite certain that it is the wet season in this part of the world and we must think of sheltering ourselves in preparation of being rained upon. I am a little surprised we have not been already."

"'This part of the world' you say. And where is that, Mr. Darcy?"

"I am not entirely sure. Unfortunately, I am not a man of the sea, I pride myself on being a man of the earth but that does not help us answer your question. I believe the force of the storm sent us rather far off course, presumably south considering the climate here. I do not know how far, but I cannot imagine that we are much further south than the American capitol. How close we are to that continent I do not know. The storm hit us half way through our journey and could have pushed us in either direction. The wind seemed to be coming from both ways at once."

"Does not our King claim several island chains in the Atlantic; do you think this is one of them?" (1.)

"I do not know if this is one of our King's territories, but I do know we are definitely on an island. I climbed one of the cedar trees in order to get a better understanding of where we are. I could see water almost all around, which means our island is rather small, no more than a few miles wide. I cannot believe that if it is claimed by the King that it is inhabited by any Englishman. I cannot imagine anyone living here."

Again, silence claimed both of them, both reacting solemnly to Darcy's words. Fearing that he upset her, Darcy looked up and studied the side of Elizabeth's face. She was unreadable, her face morphing as the light of the flames danced across her. One moment she seemed to be crying and the next laughing. He did not know if it was real or an illusion caused by the light, but either way he was deeply concerned. He knew not how to conduct himself around her. Propriety demanded he sit still, be a gentleman and do everything in his power to protect this woman in a respectful manner. But the situation was dire, they were no longer in England, nor were they anywhere near the company of any society that was concerned with decorum. He felt himself struggling with an inner battle between his instinct and his education. He knew that their circumstances would require him to break propriety standards, already they have by just being so alone together, but this was unavoidable. He decided that he must continue to act as if they were still back in England, hoping perhaps his actions would facilitate his sanity and her comfort. When it came down to it, he was a gentleman, even without his hat, his horse or that insufferable cravat.

"Miss Bennet, I have had more time to dwell upon these matters than you so I completely understand your feelings and I will not disturb you any longer if you wish to rest."

"No, sir, I find I am quite awake and that rest is perhaps the last thing I need," she spoke quietly, her eyes still fixed on the flames. Several minutes later she spoke again, but whether it was directed toward him or if she was speaking to herself, he did not know. "What is to become of us?"

"Madam, I would give anything in the world to be able to answer that question, but I am afraid I cannot." He paused and cleared his throat, "I do have a few thoughts about our situation. As I said before, we are going to need a shelter. Tomorrow I will begin scouting the land near the beach and decide the best place for it. We are fortunate to be on an island filled with the sturdy red cedar," he was momentarily interrupted by short scoff from Elizabeth, "Yes, well, perhaps fortunate is not the right word, but still, cedar is an excellent wood for building."

"You speak as if you plan to make a home here, sir," her eyes finally rose to meet his and he was struck by the anger that they held.

"_She cannot be angry with me for wanting to protect her, what is this woman about?"_ he thought to himself, tearing his confused eyes away. "Protection, Miss Bennet. We cannot stay unsheltered on this beach without expecting to get very wet. After my experiences of the past few days, being caught in such a storm is something I intend to avoid. I am sorry if you disagree."

"But we must stay on the beach, sir, how else will we be able to spot a passing ship and be rescued?"

"I mean to build a shelter not far from the shore for that very reason. Miss Bennet, there is one matter that I did not want to mention but I fear I must since you seem so fixed on staying on the beach. I am concerned that if were do in fact see a passing ship that it would not be one that we would wish to alert to our presence. Not every ship in the ocean contains friendly passengers. I do not want to bring attention to ourselves unless I am certain that no harm will come to us."

"Mr. Darcy, you cannot be referring to pirates!" Elizabeth laughed openly, suddenly feeling a little weight released from her chest. "Pirates are only known through their legends told in storybooks; real pirates have not posed a threat for years now! Surely you know that."

"Yes, thank you for reminding me," Darcy's voice was filled with condescension, "But you are not entirely correct. I must remind you again, madam, that our country is at war with America, and that being the case, American ships are legally given the right, by their own country, to piracy against British ships."

"A Letter of Marque (2.), yes I understand, but do you truly believe that Americans would do harm to us. Despite the conflict between our countries, I cannot believe they would injure a civilian."

"You are most likely correct if we are to encounter a military vessel, but private ships are also given that right as well, and it is them I do not trust.

"You have very little faith in our common man."

"Perhaps, and you appear to have too much of it," Darcy spoke without thinking, mildly exasperated at her naivety.

"I see, you think very little of my judgment."

Darcy sighed, suddenly exhausted and wishing to be done with the conversation. "Miss Bennet, forgive me if it appears so, that was not my intention. I only wish for you understand all the facts before we decide on a course of action." He paused to carefully choose his words, "We have been blessed with the gift of life while many others were not so fortunate. I do not wish to take this gift for granted by acting hastily. Therefore I wish to take care when exposing ourselves and sincerely believe that a well-concealed shelter is imperative to our comfort and survival."

For a moment Elizabeth's eyes flared and she opened her mouth, ready to respond, but suddenly his words rang true. After all that had occurred in the past few hours, she decided that she could no longer argue with the man and let silence fall between them again.

Several moments later he rose and spoke, "I understand your wish to remain awake but I am afraid I cannot do the same. I am going to lie down here," he motioned to an area a few feet away, "to try and get some rest. Wake me if you need anything, or hear or see anything, anything at all. I have not seen evidence of any large animals but that does not mean they do not exist here." Elizabeth nodded and only looked up as he turned away. He walked over to the trunk and pulled something out of it before walking back toward the fire. It appeared to be several articles of clothing. He rolled them about his hand and then placed them on the sand before resting his head on top of them.

"Goodnight, Miss Bennet,"

"Goodnight." She paused, wondering if she should continue and then finding the resolve open her lips again, "Sir?"

He rolled his head toward her and opened his eyes, "Yes?"

"Thank you for saving my life," her words came out quickly and she turned her face away shyly.

"You are very welcome, madam," and with a small smile on his face he rolled his head back over and succumbed to sleep.

* * *

1. Elizabeth is most likely referring to the Bermuda Islands.

2. A Letter of Marque was an official warrant or commission from a national government authorizing the designated agent to search, seize, or destroy specified assets or personnel belonging to a party which had committed some offense under the laws of nations against the assets or citizens of the issuing nation, and was usually used to authorize private parties to raid and capture merchant shipping of an enemy nation. (Source: Wikipedia.)


	4. Chapter 4

A/n - I wanted to give a short explanation as to why I am writing this story. I really like the idea of these two being forced to be alone and trying to figure out how they will react to one another, knowing that it will not be an easy road. Also I wanted to try and work out how they would balance this type of situation with the propriety standards of the time. Some writer's tend to make either Darcy or Elizabeth rather rebellious with their affections,and while I enjoy reading those stories I can't help but write them as more cautious. That's not to say they won't get there eventually, but don't expect them to just throw themselves at each other as soon as they get horny, they are a gentleman and a lady, no matter how passionate their personalities.

Thanks for reading!

* * *

Chapter 4 

Day 2 Continued

Elizabeth sat awake for several hours, stoking the fire every so often, contemplating all that Darcy had told her. Often her eyes would drift from their fondness of the flames to look upon the man asleep in the sand. He had lied down on his back, his hands crossed at his chest, looking stern even as he slept. But at some point, when deep slumber consumed him, his body relaxed and he turned to his side, one hand sliding under his head. Elizabeth could not help but study his sleeping expression. His mouth was open slightly and his breathing was deep and slow. The ever-present crinkle between his brows had disappeared making him appear younger and much more vulnerable. Several strands of wavy hair had fallen across his forehead and moved slightly in the breeze.

As the wind picked up, Elizabeth tightened her grasp of the blanket around her, pulling it closer about her. She allowed herself to concede that Darcy was indeed correct about the chilliness of the night here on the beach. She wondered why he had not taken more precautions against the cold himself if he was so acquainted with it from the previous night. She then realized that the other blanket was folded neatly next to her, where he had placed it earlier. Sighing she grasped why he did not use it for himself, he expected she would need both as she had before, one to lie on to protect her from the discomfort of the sand and the other for cover. _"That will not do,"_ she thought to herself, shaking her head slightly and standing. She dropped her own blanket inattentively and reached for the other. Opening it, she walked over to Darcy and gently laid it on top of him. "It is unfortunate that your chivalry should surpass your amiability, Mr. Darcy," she whispered as she rose to return to her own blanket.

The light sounds of the soft rustle of the leaves, the foamy sea slowly reaching and retracting at the shore, and the occasional cracking from the fire all fueled Elizabeth's heightened awareness of her situation. Darcy's words repeated themselves in her head over and over, and she could make little more sense of them now, several hours after hearing them, than she could when he first spoke them to her.

She remembered very little of that day, but she recalled every other moment on the ship. She arrived in Scotland several hours before the _Jane's_ departure. She had traveled to Scotland in an assortment of ways - by Post, by the kindness of strangers, and even on foot on some occasions. She brought very little with her, only what could fit in a leather bag her father procured for hunting and never used. She had all her money, a few dresses and other articles of clothing very untidily thrown together, a few toiletry items, an extra pair of shoes and gloves, a copy of Shakespeare's _Much Ado About Nothing_, and a miniature portrait of her sister, Jane.

Her passage to Canada would require most of the money she had. Previous to her hasty departure from Hertfordshire, she had been saving her pocket money to buy Jane a beautiful set of jeweled hair pins for her birthday. Jane had not been herself since last November and Elizabeth was doing her best to bring back her spirits. She knew such trinkets would not make up for her loss of the man that she loved, but Jane deserved them and Elizabeth thought she needed something to remind her that life goes on. But that was all before the incident and Elizabeth's world changed.

Once on board the ship, the anticipated calm that she expected to feel did not come. The extreme gravity of her situation and the forthcoming change in her life seemed to finally come crashing down on her and fear started to sink in. She met a young woman in her cabin, a year younger than herself, named Susan. She was from northern England and was traveling across the Atlantic to live with her family in Massachusetts and procure a job in a textile mill. After speaking with her and learning about her hardships, Elizabeth felt a little better about her own troubles; if this young woman could travel alone and work to support herself then so could she.

She had been on deck talking to Susan when she saw him, the last person in the world she wanted to see. Mr. Darcy was standing not far from her, wearing his usual perfectly fixed attire, staring at her. It took all of her strength not to lose control and weep and she knew not why. _"Why should this man affect me so?"_ she asked herself before turning to him to accept his addresses. His self-righteous words of concern turned her stomach and she was caught between life-altering shame and barely controllable self-preservation. For a quick moment she almost shared her pain with him, feeling a strange yet familiar connection to a man she taught herself to despise. The moment was fleeting, however, and she forced herself to walk away before it returned.

She spent the following week avoiding him, and everyone else. The amiable, lively woman she had been was overshadowed by the confused, anxious girl she had become over the past few weeks. She would have been able to accept her emotions and work through them if his presence was not looming over her. She could not shake the need to shield him from this side of her; she wanted him to only know the hardheaded, witty Elizabeth he had studied all those months ago. What concerned her most was why his opinion mattered to her at all.

When Darcy had convinced her to speak with him, she suddenly found the courage in his presence, not knowing how or why. She was perhaps more biting and shrewish than she was apt to be before, but she felt more like her old self again. She believed this to be her last chance to put the gentleman in his place and she rose to the challenge and walked away with her head held high. She supposed that she would never speak to him again and this left her a little shaken. She attributed it to the fact that he was her last connection to home, despite the thinness of that connection. Any sentiment that it could be a personal bond she felt to the man himself was quickly shunned from her mind and she was determined to only think of the future.

The day of the storm was still quite a jumble of memories for Elizabeth and that was beginning to frustrate her exceedingly. From what Darcy had told her, part of her felt it best that she not remember any of it. Not knowing what happened to Susan or the other girls in her cabin weighed heavily on her mind. A few tears traveled downed her cheek and she thought it best to accept their demise, knowing it meant the suffering they endured in life was now over.

Guilt then began to consume her, _"Why me and not them?"_ she thought to herself, over and over, making no sense of God's will. The sight of the sleeping figure in front of her shook her from her desperate thoughts, _"Because of him,"_ was the answer to her question. _"What will I do here, forced in the permanent company of _this_ man, indebted to him for my life? What is the purpose of my life if my only options are within this tiny island? How will we eat, how will we survive the storms that he is so convinced are coming, how will we survive each other?"_ Her mind raced while she rested her chin in her hands unable to take her eyes from his face.

Several minutes later, the hypnotic hum of the cicadas in the forest combined with her emotional exhaustion convinced her it was time to rest. Despite the whirlwind of thoughts in her head, sleep found her rather quickly.

* * *

Day 3 

Darcy awoke to the symphonic songs of the White-eyed Vireo in the distance while the sound of gently creaking wood mimicked the rocking of the soft waves at the shore. As he sat up, the top of the blanket that Elizabeth had kindly placed on him the night before fell down to his lap, alerting him to its presence. His eyes narrowed in confusion and he shot a glance to his side and beheld the now familiar sight of Elizabeth sleeping. Although he spent several hours in the days previous studying her in slumber, the pace of his heart still quickened at the sight of her. Her lips were barely meeting, creating a small slit that scarcely showed the whites of her teeth. Darcy's eyes lingered there for more than a moment as the thought of kissing those lips and parting them as he claimed them occupied his mind.

Shaking his head and closing his eyes, Darcy took a deep breath and reclaimed his senses as he turned his thoughts back to the blanket in his lap. When he realized she must have put it there after he fell asleep, a quick breath escaped his lips as a smile formed betraying his obvious pleasure in knowing that Elizabeth had taken care of him. He had not thought of using one of the blankets for himself, but only of her needs and comfort and somehow she had done the same for him. This sudden realization momentarily washed away any pessimistic or solemn thoughts and replaced them with hope and joy, not emotions often found within this gentleman's heart.

A painful tightening in his stomach quickly banished all his happy thoughts as he began to contemplate eating. Their options were limited to the few fruit trees the island possessed. Although Darcy did consider himself to be a talented fisherman, that was with the proper equipment, which was something he was now lacking. Standing, he slowly took in the sight around him. The sun had only raised a short time ago and sensing that Elizabeth had gone to sleep several hours after him, he figured he had a while before she too awoke.

He walked to the shore and bent down to undo his boots. Once his feet were free, he rolled his pants to just above his knee and strode several feet into the ocean. Cupping his hands he lowered them to tranquil water and splashed his face with welcomed relief. Looking down into the crystal blue sea he spotted a crab swiftly moving toward his feet, his large claws held in front as though he had challenged Darcy to a duel. Instinct to run reacted faster than his thoughts, and as he turned to move away he stumbled and fell completely into the water, letting out a loud, almost cowardly yelp on his way down.

At the shore Elizabeth awoke to the sound of Darcy's unintentional cry, and shot up in confusion and alarm. As she did so, Darcy arose out of the water, running both hands through his hair and then punching the water as if the ocean was completely at fault for his own folly. He did not notice Elizabeth until he was almost upon her and then it was her laughter that brought his attention to her.

Quite wet and red with embarrassment he could barely greet her without some irritation in his voice, "Good morning, madam. It is quite early, I did not expect you to awake for several hours."

"So it seems, sir. Perhaps you should consider taking your baths in a secluding part of the beach instead of directly in front of a lady, even if the lady was asleep," Elizabeth teased, barely able to suppress a grin.

Darcy's jaw clenched and he drew in a deep breath and opened his mouth to begin his awkward explanation but sensed it was only exactly what she wanted and decided to ignore her goading. Instead he turned the conversation back to his previous thoughts. "I will go gather us some fruit for breakfast, if you would like, Miss Bennet." And without waiting for a reply he strode over to one of the crates and sat upon it to replace his boots back onto his feet.

Elizabeth could hardly help herself from giggling as she watched him, until she realized that she was presented with sight she was not used to. A large portion of Darcy's legs were exposed as was the sight of his chest as it clung to the thoroughly drenched white, linen shirt. Elizabeth had never seen a man exposed so and it shocked her beyond what she felt the day before at the sight of the same man without his tidy cravat. From what she could gather, Darcy was an athletic man and it was certainly evident in his physique. Elizabeth tore her eyes away, her brow wrinkled as she mulled over her shame for staring at him so. But her smile quickly returned and she stood determined not to think on it again.

Darcy marched into the forest, walking a little further than he had previously, partly out of curiosity and partly out of a need to distance himself from that lady. _"Laugh at _me_ will she! I saved her life and she still finds something in me to ridicule! Ungrateful woman!" _Not paying attention to where he was going, he almost missed it. Instead, he stopped short as he realized that he had just stepped over a brook. It was very narrow, only about a foot wide, but it was there. All thoughts of anger were diffused as he reached a hand into the water and brought it to his lips. "Fresh water!" he said aloud and began to drink from his cupped hand.

Excitement began to build inside of him as he turned to the left and noticed the stream moved steadily in front of him. Quickly he stood and began to follow it, enthusiasm building with each step. The sweet sound of running water grew louder as he moved and his pace quickened. After only a few minutes he found himself in front of a small waterfall emerging from the top of a mass of rock only a few feet taller than himself. Water pooled into a ravine about five feet in diameter and Darcy stood transfixed at the sight. With a light step he moved to the cascading torrent and allowed himself the pleasure of having water shower over his entire being. Already quite sodden from his morning "bath" he thought it no matter and quite reveled in the massaging effect of the tumbling water. He opened his mouth and hungrily drank in as much as he could before deciding it best to complete the task he had set out to do.

Fifteen minutes later Darcy returned to the beach bearing several fruits and looking almost as wet as he did when he left. Elizabeth was standing in front of the wooden crates examining their contents. There wasn't much, and it seemed that any food that was found inside was thoroughly spoilt. She studied Darcy with a bemused expression as he proceeded to cut up the fruit. He looked up as he handed her a piece and caught her eye, "Is there something wrong with fruit for breakfast Miss Bennet?"

"No no, fruit is quite acceptable. I was only curious as to why you appear to be no dryer that you were almost half an hour ago."

Darcy took a bite of his share of their meager rations and looked away as if he was ignoring her statement and just as Elizabeth was about to give up on any conversation with the man he spoke up, "I found a waterfall, and a freshwater stream. We shall not want for water."

"Oh, I see. I hadn't given it much thought, although now I see that this is good news indeed."

"Yes, well, I had spent much time dwelling on it, seeing as we are surrounded by water that we cannot drink, so when I found the stream that led to the waterfall I was quite relieved."

"So I see." Elizabeth could then only think of how Darcy could have possibly gotten wet again; did he fall into the stream? "_No, he didn't look dirty, he looked rather clean actually. He must have purposefully drenched himself. Could The Mr. Darcy have done such a thing?"_ Elizabeth's mind was in a whirl as she pondered this thought, her mystified expression quite obvious. She was preoccupied with these thoughts when Darcy spoke again.

"The waterfall is quite refreshing, madam. I would be glad to show you the way, it is not far. That is if you would to like to… would like to freshen up."

Elizabeth's face colored the moment she understood what he was saying, and she brought her hands to her hair again, mortified by how she must look. This embarrassment was only short-lived however and taking a deep breath Elizabeth held her chin high and said, "Yes, Mr. Darcy, I believe I might enjoy the chance to see such as sight and partake in its offerings." Taking her fruit she began to walk toward the direction Darcy had emerge from and then turned around and stood waiting for him to lead the way.

"Very well, follow me."

They did not speak as they walked methodically through the forest. The only sounds they could hear were the crackling of the twigs under their feet and the occasional fluttering of a bird disturbed by their presence. Elizabeth took this time to examine her surroundings. She had imagined the forests of the southern Atlantic islands to look more tropical, but instead most of what she saw around her was, well, red. _"I suppose that means Mr. Darcy is correct and we are not that far south,"_ she thought to herself. The further they walked, the denser the forest became with the tall, broad trucks of crimson cedar trees that surrounded them. Even if one was not aware of them by sight, it would be difficult to miss their sweet, comforting, pungent aroma. Looking up through the thick blue-green leaves in an effort to find the sun, Elizabeth was rewarded as she blinked through a clearing of the trees and only looked down in time to stop just short walking right into her guide.

"Here is the stream, the water flows this way," he pointed to his left, "and the waterfall is this way" he said, turning to the right and moving along without expecting a word from his companion.

Keeping her eyes on the stream, Elizabeth was tempted to stop and reach down to feel the movement of the water in her hands. It was an interesting brook in that it, like most of the flora around them, was also red. _"Such an enigma this water is, to take on the color of its foe, fire." _Her eyes traveled about, thinking it a game to find things in this forest that were _not_ red and realized that even the earth beneath her feet took on the devilish color. _"With everything so red, this island must be British!"_ she chuckled to herself.She assumed that Darcy's waterfall would also match this scarlet wonderland, therefore her eyes light up with surprise when it finally materialized in front of them.

The picturesque scene before them was indeed not red at all, but rather decidedly blue, a perfect compliment. It was certainly not very large but maintained a captivating presence for its audience. Darcy stood facing her, awaiting her reaction.

"I am certain I have never seen a place for which nature has done more."(1.)

"Then you approve of it?"

"Very much. I think there are few who would not."

"Your good opinion is rarely bestowed, and therefore more worth the earning."(2.)

Not knowing quite how to respond to him, Elizabeth chose to move forward and tentatively reached a hand toward the tumbling water.

Suddenly springing forward, Darcy found himself right at Elizabeth's side, "Madam, please be careful, these rocks can be very slick."

"Thank you for your concern, Mr. Darcy, but I should be sure to take care."

"I do not doubt it, but I only fear that you may meet a fate worse than mine this morning. This pool here is shallow and is surrounded by rock, if you should slip and fall…"

"I quite understand the risk, sir," Elizabeth interrupted, and with a determine step, moved toward the waterfall. Her enthusiastic disposition was quickly stamped out, for with only her third step on the rock she felt her foot slid forward and suddenly her stomach lurched as she felt the dreadful sensation of falling.

* * *

1. So I'm stealing a little bit from Ms. Austen, it was bound to happen and probably will again. And while I don't pretend to be comparing this little waterfall with Pemberley's grounds, keep in mind Elizabeth hasn't seen it. 

2. Ok, so here I'm stealing from the 1995 BBC movie.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Day 3 Continued

Darcy was quick to react as he was not far from her due to his apprehension. With a matter of a fraction of a second his arms were around her, tightly pressing her slender figure against his. He briskly pulled her backwards several feet off the rock, his thoughts only of removing her from danger, and not at all of where he placed his hands.

Elizabeth's heart was pounding in her chest as her mind tried to make out what had just occurred. Looking down she realized that Darcy's arms were still wrapped tightly around her, one hand directly below her bosom, the thumb barely grazing the bottom curve. Momentarily shocked, the only sound she could make was a loud gasp, her hand flying to her mouth.

Darcy had been standing behind her, holding her close, breathing in her scent and lost in the sensation. When heard her gasp, he instantly released her and swiftly back away several feet, as a cat might do when suddenly faced with horrific sight of a dog. His embarrassment quickly took the usual form of defensiveness and with dry tone asked, "Are you alright?"

Still facing away from him, Elizabeth's hand fell from her face and landed at the spot previously occupied by his, still able to feel the warmth left by his touch. For a few seconds her mind was gripped in confusion, torn between gratification and resentment. At the sound of his voice, all feelings of thankfulness vanished and her antipathy grew. She spun around, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. The hand that had for a moment basked in the warmth left behind was now at her side, gripped tightly into a fist.

"How dare you sir, handle me in such a way!"

"How dare I? If I had not _dared_, I _dare_ say you would be lying in a bloody heap on that pile of rock!"

"I had slipped, yes, but I have faith that I would have found my footing easily, I was _not_ in need of your assistance."

"I must beg to differ, you were falling quite rapidly, I am entirely sure that you would have landed with much force on the rock below, most likely severely hurting yourself."

"You are wrong, sir, and what you think on the matter is utterly unimportant to me," Elizabeth spoke these words with such force they caused Darcy's jaw to drop and face to turn white. She continued, "No matter what your intentions were in saving me from falling, you have handled me in quite an ungentlemanly manner."

Swallowing hard, Darcy could not respond so quickly to her words. Despite his perfectly innocent intensions when her grabbed her and pulled her down, his thoughts were only of those few seconds afterwards when he reveled in the feeling of her in his arms. _"Blast this beautiful, ungrateful woman, but she is right."_

"Miss Bennet, I sincerely apologize if I have offended you in any way, it was not my intension to do so. I believed you to be in danger and only wished to prevent you from becoming injured."

Elizabeth had not been expecting an apology, although the fact that he did so did nothing to dampen her anger. Considering what to say next, she turned away from him and looked again upon the cascading stream, her yearning to reach out to it returning. Deciding that her desire to bathe and launder her clothes was greater than her need to argue with him, she turned back around and with great restraint addressed him again.

"Mr. Darcy, I appreciate your concern and I accept your apology. Now if you would be so kind as to leave me, I would like to "freshen up" as you suggested."

"Very well, madam, I will leave, but I will not go far. I would not like to impose upon you but I am also apprehensive of leaving you alone unprotected. I will follow the stream back and wait for you at the spot we first came upon it. When you are done you only have to follow the brook and you will find me. Please do not hesitate to call out for me if you fear you are in any danger. And please, Miss Bennet, take care on the rocks, perhaps you will bid me this one act of sacrifice and promise me you will not stand on them. Sit upon them if you must, but do not stand upon them."

Elizabeth stared into his eyes as he spoke, once again baffled by the man before her. _"His manners are so cold yet his words are so… considerate, I still do not know what to make of him."_ "Very well, I shall make that promise. I will not be long, I know that you have many plans for today and do not wish to spend the day sitting by a stream waiting for me."

With a slight bow, Darcy walked away, leaving her alone. Elizabeth took a moment to consider what to do. She was perfectly capable of undressing herself, in a house of six women she had learned to tend to all her own needs with no reliance on a servant, but she was very uneasy with the idea of undressing in the middle of the forest with Mr. Darcy only a few hundred feet away. She decided it was for the best since she did not wish to make all of her clothing wet. She had left her coat at the beach and was grateful as it was becoming warmer by the minute. She removed her shoes and stockings and folded them neatly on a rock. After pulling off her dress she held it in front of her and examined it. The light-colored fabric was severely stained and Elizabeth desperately wanted to wash it, but was mindful of her lack of time to sufficiently dry it. She looked about and noticed that there was a ray of sun shining brightly through the trees onto a pile of rock to the side of the waterfall. She then decided to wash the dress first and lay it out to dry while she bathed herself. She pulled her short stays down and brought it around at her waist in order to untie it and then taking a deep breath pulled her shift over her head. Feeling very vulnerable, she swiftly grabbed her dress and crouched down onto the rock near the shallow pool. She quickly scanned the water and finding it quite clear of any obstacles she lowered herself in.

The water was much colder than she had imagined and she cried out as soon as her legs made contact with the pool. Darcy heard her cry and called out to her from his post. Fearful that he may come toward her she abruptly sunk herself down until the water came up to her neck, sharply inhaling at the frigid sensation. "I am quite alright, sir, please stay where you are! I merely reacted to the chilliness of the water."

"Alright then," was his response and Elizabeth decided to work quickly, not wanting to spend more time in the water than was necessary. After scrubbing her dress and laying it on the sunny rock she turned back to the pool and decided to move toward the waterfall. She had been so curious when she first looked upon it, but now found herself uneasy at the prospect of placing herself under it. Assuming that Darcy had not hesitated, she shook away her fears and moved herself under the flowing water. The water cascading over her was not quite as cold as that in the pool and Elizabeth found much joy in it. She lacked any of her toiletry articles but felt thankful for the clean water raining over her. She scraped at her skull with her nails and ran her fingers through her hair over and over in an attempt to rid herself of the plentitude of knots.

Once out of the water, Elizabeth dried fairly quickly as the temperature had risen considerably in the time it took her to bathe. After she had replaced her undergarments, she walked over to her dress and, though not completely dry, it was sufficiently so that she did not worry about it clinging to her figure in any inappropriate way, as Darcy's shirt had done only an hour before.

Meanwhile, Darcy sat under a cedar by the stream desperately trying not to think about the lady bathing at the waterfall. _"Horses, I must think about horses… riding horses… riding horses through the woods and finding a pool of water, finding her splashing it over head, allowing it to drip slowly down her neck… NO!... Fishing, no that will not do… Hunting, think about hunting with Bingley… the last time we went shooting was at Netherfield… where Elizabeth and I dance and she looked so exquisite in that white dress…" _"Blast!" he said aloud. _"Lady Catherine, yes she will rid any man of any amorous thoughts. Lady Catherine and her foolish wish for me to marry Anne, which will never happen, I could not care for Anne, not in _that_ way, not in the way I care for…"_

"Mr. Darcy?" Suddenly she was there before him, her hair wet and wavy around her shoulders, her dress damp and slightly transparent, showing off the lines of her stays. Darcy caught himself staring and quickly turned his face away while he stood hurriedly. Finding his tongue still inside of his mouth and not hanging out as a hound's would, he managed to speak, "This way back to the beach."

Once they returned to the beach he found himself much more able to compose himself and addressed her more comfortably, "I believe we should begin by examining the rest of the wreckage from the ship and deciding what may be of use to us. Even if the contents of a crate or barrel are useless to us, the container will not be. I have scouted much of the area near the beach and believe that the best place to make our shelter is within the bend there," he pointed the area before the bend of the beach that led to the wreckage where there was an alcove of sorts. "Just beyond the trees there is a clearing where the land rises a bit. I believe it is ideal for a few reasons. First of all, it is protected on all sides by the forest; secondly, its height protects us from flooding; and lastly, it is still close to the beach, from there we may spot any passing ship. Do you have any objections, Miss Bennet."

Hearing him speak with such authority on the matter was enough to convince the lady, despite any residual resentment she felt towards the gentleman; she trusted his judgment in this case. "No, sir."

"Very well, let us proceed."

* * *

After spending a few hours investigating the remains of their former ship, Elizabeth and Darcy were physically and emotionally drained. They did not speak much during their task, but an overwhelming feeling of melancholy swept over both of them as they looked through the possessions of those that could not be saved. While they did not find their own belongings they found a few trunks of several others, as well a crate filled with biscuits that were only slightly spoiled, several small barrels of rum, a crate of limes, a trunk containing a rifle and several bags of powder and bullets as well as a long sword, and the most important find: an extra sail. This they hoped to use for their shelter.(1.)

They carried these items down the beach and laid them at the edge of the forest, not far from where they intended to make their shelter. Elizabeth sat down ungracefully on one of the crates, not giving much care for her appearance. "Perhaps we might rest now and have something to eat."

"I understand if you need rest madam, you have had a difficult few days, but looking up at the cloud-filled sky I fear that we will be soon heavily rained upon and I wish to begin the shelter as quickly as possible.

As he spoke, Elizabeth looked up and observed a dark cloud in the distance and a feeling of dread passing through her. Her fatigue forgotten, replaced with anxiety, she stood, "How do we begin, sir?"

Surprised at her eagerness to help him, Darcy did not reply at first. He knew that she was a great walker, he had observed as much all those months ago, but he never expected such physical endurance from her, or any woman, especially after all they had experienced. "Perhaps it would be best if you rested for now."

Her eyes filled with displeasure and she crossed her arms under her chest. "I think not, sir, I am quite capable of assisting you. You have just pointed out to me the possibility of a coming storm and examining for myself I see a large dark cloud in the distance. From my estimations it will descend upon us in a little more than an hour, therefore I understand fully your urgency to begin and I see no reason for me to sit and wait to be rained upon!"

Sighing, Darcy reached down and picking up the sail, he flung the heavy material vigorously over his shoulder, "As you wish," was all he managed to say as he walked toward the trees.

It took most of the hour to decide the best way to set up their shelter, arguing most of the way. Elizabeth wanted to tie the sail at its end, leaving the sides open, then they could surround themselves with the barrels and crates they had taken from the wreckage, thereby giving themselves a fairly large covered area. Darcy disagreed and thought it best to tie the sail at four points in the center, allowing the material to cover them on all sides, protecting them completely. Finally exasperated with the situation, Darcy decided to compromise. He tied the sail to the trees in such a way that three sides were drawn down completely, making a protected corner, leaving the last side open. He was tying the last open corner up higher than the others while standing on a barrel when they began to feel drops upon their heads. "Stay under the shelter, I am going back to the beach to get the blankets and a few other things."

Elizabeth gladly obeyed and watched his tall, striking figure disappear as the rain began to come down with much more force. He returned quickly with a wooden crate in hand and rapidly said, "The blankets are in here," before turning away again and running in the opposite direction. When he returned again he was carrying the firewood and very unceremoniously threw them down before running away again. Realizing what he was about, Elizabeth flew out of the shelter toward the beach. Meeting Darcy half way, he yelled to her to return to the shelter but she refused and they stared defiantly at each other for a moment. Elizabeth could not help but notice the rain dripping down his face, making his stubble appear darker and gathering in a tiny pool at his lips, then continuing down his chin to his neck. Shaking her head and scolding herself for her foolishness, Elizabeth ran to the beach and grabbed some of the firewood.

They continued in this way for a quarter of an hour, running between the beach and shelter, carrying the rest of the firewood and somehow silently agreeing it best to carry the rest of their supplies from the beach to their new refuge. They piled the crates and barrels around their shelter and placed the ones carrying the much needed supplies inside. Despite the cover of the canvas sail and their higher ground, water still puddled beneath them and they were grateful for something to sit upon. They were silent for quite some time, looking about themselves or staring out at the pouring rain. Elizabeth decided they must have some conversation and turned to him to speak. Before she was able to find the right words she was once again struck by the sight of this usually well-dressed man completely wet through, and for the third time in one day. A slight smile formed on one side of her mouth and she forced herself to look away as she spoke, "Sir, I fear you have found yourself quite soaked through today more often than you have found yourself dry."

A bright smile formed on his face and Elizabeth caught it as she looked up him, returning the grin and commenting to herself how different he looks when he smiles, _"So much more amiable!"_ Just them a fierce wind forced its way through the trees causing their roof to wave a bit. Elizabeth shivered and reached her hands up and through her hair, squeezing out the excess water. _"Little good all my pains to dry my dress did,"_ she thought to herself, looking down and noticing how transparent her dress really was. She wrapped her arms about herself out of a need for warmth and sudden modesty.

Next to her Darcy was trying to keep his eyes forward, allowing himself to turn his head and catch glimpses of her every so often. He tried to keep his thoughts more properly fixed by making mental lists of all the tasks needed to do in order to make their stay on the island more comfortable. Noting all the resources they had found that day, some of his concern about their circumstances subsided, but he still could not help but think about how dire their situation really was.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Elizabeth moving about slightly and when he turned to her he saw her tremble slightly. "Your coat is in here, madam, and the blankets as well." He reached inside the crate he was sitting upon and helped her on with her pelisse, as she sat down again he wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.

"Thank you, sir."

"You are quite welcome. I would not like to see you become sick again." Her face reddened as she remembered the day before when she became nauseous in front of him. It seemed so long ago now and it was scarcely more than twenty-four hours ago.

They sat as such for several hours, speaking occasionally about nothing serious or of import. They ate more fruit and a few of the stale biscuits, and Darcy left the water jug uncorked and outside allowing it to be filled by the rain. As night descended they spoke of building a fire but decided the wood was too wet and they were too exhausted to mind the cold. They arranged several of the crates next to each other to make two, narrow makeshift beds in order to avoid sleeping in the mud. When it was too dark to see, they bid each other goodnight, each taking to their rigid "mattresses" and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

1. Taking a cue from Daniel Defoe, I decided to give our couple pretty much everything they need to survive. Improbable? Yes. Does it matter? Nope.


	6. Chapter 6

A/n: Thanks to all who are following my story!

Chapter 6

Day 4

With a stiff back and a pounding headache, Darcy was again the first to awaken the next morning. As he sat up, he slowly rolled his head back and forth, stretching the tense muscles in his neck, grimacing as he strained to work out a knot in his shoulder. _"This island is going to turn me into an old man,"_ he thought to himself as he tentatively stepped out of the shelter into another sunny, warm day.

When he reached the beach he realized there was no sign of the storm from the previous night, and the sandy shore appeared to be as picturesque as ever with clear skies and a sparkling sea. The scene was peaceful and should have evoked serenity, and the irony that it only caused anxiety and fear was not lost on this frustrated gentleman. Still groggy and sore, Darcy allowed his body to slump down to the sand. Leaning back with his elbows holding him up, he sat staring out at sea, willing the answers to appear at the horizon. The worry and the what-ifs constantly running through his mind were taking a toll on him. The worst struggle was a moral dilemma that he confronted every moment he looked at or thought of his castaway companion.

There was no denying that he ached for home; concerns for Georgiana, Pemberley and all his responsibilities often flashed in his mind. Then he would think of her and his gloom would momentarily disappear. _"Here I am, trapped on a deserted island with a beautiful woman, is it not every man's dream?"_ He would then spend a few moments envisioning their life together, forever living here alone without the burdens of society or duties to anyone else except each other. It was a foolish dream, and one he chastised himself for having over and over again. It would not be fair to her or to either of their families – but it would be lovely.

The sounds emanating from his own stomach brought him out of his reverie and he cursed the thought of eating more fruit and those vile biscuits. He longed to catch a fish, but with no rod or lure he was at a loss on how to accomplish it. Then a vision flashed before him of that wretched crab from the previous morning. He knew they were eatable, he had consumed the crustacean before, but he knew nothing about catching the creature or cooking it for that matter. Despite these hindrances, the craving for any form of meat provided Darcy with the determination to catch one. _"Surely something that crawls will be much easier to capture than something that swims."_

While Darcy plotted breakfast on the beach, Elizabeth was beginning to stir within the canvas walls of the shelter. As she leaned forward, her eyes were immediately drawn to the crates to her right where Darcy had spent the night. With the realization that she was alone, she was not quite sure if she was relieved or disappointed. Seven months ago she would have rejoiced at his absence but now she had to admit to herself that she was deeply dependent and indebted to him. The inner conflict she endured was not something Elizabeth Bennet, one of the wittiest and self-confident women in England, was used to. As much as she would have liked to believe that she could have survived on her own, she had to admit to herself that it was highly unlikely. His presence, while at times unnerving to her, was reassuring. She was not quite ready to acknowledge that she was happy that he was here with her, but she was certainly thankful that she was not alone. There were without a doubt a few individuals that she could think of that would have been much harder to tolerate.

As her arms reached behind her head to fix her hair, her thoughts drifted to the future. _"What will happen to us if we are never discovered?" _Elizabeth was surprised at how little she was frightened of the prospect. When she first learned of their situation, she was terrified and could think only of how they could be saved. Then she remembered the circumstances before the storm and recognized that perhaps she was even better off trapped on a deserted island rather than trying to begin a new life in America. Either way, she was lost to her family. She considered what they must be thinking at that exact moment. They were most likely unaware that the ship she was traveling on was destroyed and never reached America. When they do learn of it, surely they will assume she perished and any thought of searching for her will be abandoned. _"Certainly a deceased daughter is an improvement over a disgraced one!"_

Sighing deeply, Elizabeth sat up straight and decided to search for Darcy at the beach. As she reached the line where the trees met the sand, the scene before her was a strange combination of shock and entertainment. Slowly wading through the water was a shirtless Mr. Darcy, his eyes set near his feet, and his hand outstretched before him as if he was reaching for something. Blinking in the sun, her eyes fixed on the sight with absolute attention. He was facing slightly away from her, clearly concentrating on whatever laid below the surface of the water in front of him. His skin was tan and dripping wet, his wavy hair glossy and smoothed down, his beard grown beyond stubble and covering his face. He appeared to be a man of the frontier or the fields rather than a man of posh London clubs and the ton. Elizabeth knew not what he was about, but whatever it was, she could not tear her eyes from him.

Without warning, Darcy plunged forward into the sea and flung upwards out of it as quickly as he had dove into it, shouting, "Damn bloody crab!" _"And he curses as well!"_ Elizabeth thought to herself, smirking and stepping forward to obtain a better view of the spectacle. Now knowing the object of his desire she was quite intrigued as to how he would go about catching the creature. She watching in amusement for several minutes as Darcy repeated his attempts, barely stifling her laughter. He heard her giggling at the shoreline and turned to her in frustration to find her smiling openly at him. They stood twenty feet apart, smiling at each other and for the first time since she first laid eyes on him, Elizabeth found herself drawn to him and not questioning why. She began stepping forward but ceased abruptly when Darcy let out a brash scream. Quickly turning back to his feet, he reached down and pulled the offender out of the water and then swiftly threw it into a makeshift sack made from his shirt. As he made his way out of the ocean, Elizabeth met him part of the way and gently guided him to the sand.

"Let me see it sir, does it hurt?" She spoke quickly, her eyes darting between his foot and his face. While Darcy was most undoubtedly enjoying her concern, but he could not pretend he was injured severely merely to prolong her attentions.

"It seems that the hunter became the hunted," he said cheerily, "I believe he only scratched me, madam. No harm done, really, I was only taken by surprised. I apologize for alarming you." He was watching her in earnest, silently begging her to look up at him and smile at him as she had before. She would not comply, but kept her focus on his heel, inspecting it carefully.

"It appears you are correct." She looked up at him briefly and then gestured toward the bundle in his hand. "And what shall we do with him?"

"Ah, Sir Crab of the Blue Sea may have won a few battles, but he did not win the war. How do you feel about seafood for breakfast Miss Bennet?"

* * *

After eating, both Darcy and Elizabeth felt rejuvenated from the change in diet and spent a large portion of the day organizing their stockpile, collecting firewood, and making plans for the capture Sir Crab's next of kin. Their efforts and plans proved productive and successful and as the clouds rolled in, the sun began to set, and they finished their dinner.

Despite their conflicts in the past, they were able to pass the day with little discord, each taking to their tasks with the appearance of indifference to the other. Now that the day had drawn to a close, they were within the shelter, watching the shadows caused by the flames of the fire dance along the walls while the rain drummed incessantly on the roof. Their silence was awkward and Darcy sat uncomfortably poking at the fire. He burned to ask her a certain question, knowing it would a fuel an argument after a day spent in peace. His curiosity in the matter was high, even though he knew he was not entitled to the information. With much reluctance he set his interest aside and decided on a safer, yet equally serious subject.

"Miss Bennet, I believe I must bring up a matter which I am sure is at the forefront of both of our minds but neither one of us is sure will ever be resolved." Elizabeth turned to him with an expression of concern and hesitation, after a moment she nodded and he continued. "I do not know how long we are to be here on this island together but I think I speak for the both of us when I say that there is some form of bitterness between us. I believe that if we are to be in each other's company for some time that it might be best if we discuss it and perhaps put our difficulties behind us. I became aware that you harbored some form of resentment toward me on the ship when I approached you." Elizabeth's eyes flashed up at him as she became more ill at ease with the direction of the conversation. "I do not wish to pry into your life if you are not willing to share with me certain aspects of your past, but I think I deserve to know why you feel the way you do. Have I ever done anything to offend you?"

Elizabeth looked about her not knowing how to answer his question. She was feeling very conflicted and unsure if she had a justifiable answer for him. He waited several moments in suspense, gazing upon her with kind eyes which only made it more difficult for her to answer. "Miss Bennet?"

"I used to believe that I had every reason in the world to think ill of you."

"And now?"

"While I do not excuse all aspect of your behavior towards me and others that I have observed, I have come to realize that I was influenced to think badly of you by one who," here her color changed, "who I should not have trusted."

Darcy rose and walked over to opening of the shelter. With his hands clasped behind his back, he stared out into the gloomy night. "I could easily guess who you mean, madam," his voice was deep and biting. "I might, perhaps, wish to be informed what behavior you are referring to that offended you."

Elizabeth was a little taken aback that he should be so ignorant of his offences, she stood and with a much stronger manner replied, "Sir, you must know why I have provocations, or is your memory short? Very well, I will remind you. Within the first few moments of our acquaintance you chose to insult me with little knowledge of my person and with little care as to who might hear you. If I had more vanity perhaps I would have been more affected, as it was it merely enlightened me to your character. My family became aware of the insult and quickly agreed with me, all except sweet Jane, that you are a pompous snob. If others had not shared with us their negative experiences with you, we would have still thought very little of you. All of Meryton was quite convinced that money had not bought you manners."

Darcy stood in silence as she spoke, seemingly catching her words with no less confusion than surprise. His complexion became pale and he struggled for the appearance of composure. At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he spoke, "Madam, I wish that my words that evening were never spoken. I certainly never meant for anyone to hear them, save Bingley. I admit they were rude and discourteous and I sincerely apologize for speaking them, for thinking them, for they are certainly not true. I spoke without a consideration for my surroundings nor any real thought to you in particular, in fact Bingley could have suggested I dance with Helen of Troy and I believe I would have found her less than tolerable." He smiled in a vain attempt to win her favor; she was not so easily won. "Miss Bennet, I realize now that you think little of my opinion, but if it is any consolation, I have since considered you as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance."

Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. She examined her fingers with intensity, not daring to look up. After her rebuke, she expected an apology but did imagine such a compliment. The air was thick with humidity and distress; sweat began to form at Darcy's brow as he stared upon her. The pause was to Darcy's feelings dreadful and he decided that instead of continuing in such a serious manner that he would attempt to make light of the situation in order to bring her more comfort. "But I am sure those are words you are more used to hearing are they not, the beauty of the Bennet sisters being known far and wide. What is one more man's flattering remark?"

She ultimately raised her eyes to him, his smile doing little to calm her nerves. When finally she did speak, her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, "No, sir, indeed I do not believe I have ever heard such kind words. Thank you."

They again stood in awkward silence, facing each other, neither attempting to move. When at last Elizabeth could not cope with the uneasiness, she turned toward her bed and suggested they retire for the evening. Agreeing, Darcy slowly made for the opposite side of the tent and sat upon the crates where he was to spend the night. Before lying down he ventured to speak once more, "I hope that perhaps now you do not think so ill of me and we can live in relative harmony until the day we are rescued."

Elizabeth was able to produce a small smile and deciding it best to let go of all her lingering resentment towards the gentleman and for the sake of peace she replied, "Yes."

If it was Darcy's hope that the conversation had cleared up any confusion between the two of them, he would have been greatly dismayed to hear Elizabeth's thoughts on the matter. Having spent the past few days pondering her opinion of the man whom she had previously thought so little of, she was now utterly befuddled. In truth, she had been complimented on her beauty in the past, and always took the accolade in stride. Never before had such words from a man stirred her emotions so. Elizabeth laid awake half the night mediating what had been said._ "All this time I believe him indifferent to me and now…"_ The only conclusion she reached that night was that nothing was going to be same.


	7. Chapter 7

A/n -

I really want to thank all my readers. To have over 7000 hits and be on 45 alerts, 6 favs, and 55 reviewsis really astounding to me. I might not seem like much to some, but I truly appreciated it. I have no idea how long this story is going to be, but I just finished the first rough draft of ch. 13 and I feel as though I'm over the hump at least.

Enjoy!

Chapter 7

Day 5 to Day 9

Over the next several days life on the island began to become routine. Finding and cooking food always took up a large portion of the day and any time not spent devoted to their next meal was spent on equally essential tasks. Darcy was determined to make the sleeping arrangements more agreeable. Not only did he long for more comfort but he also sensed that Elizabeth desired more privacy and he wanted nothing more than to make her more at ease. Since their conversation where they discussed their past, she was unquestionably more quiet and distant with him. He knew that they had never had an easy time communicating, and he had hoped that by clearing the air that they could be more relaxed around each other. Instead, things seemed to be worse than before and he knew not why.

Darcy was replaying that conversation in his mind over and over as he chopped firewood and the long stakes he needed for his project.(1.) With each swing he would mutter to himself as he grew more and more confused, "What did I say? … I apologized … I complimented her … I smiled … and now she will barely look at me! Perplexing woman!" After carrying the logs back to their camp and arranging them neatly in the corner, he stood about the tent trying to decide what to do. Elizabeth was at the waterfall tending to their small collection of soiled clothes and he knew she would not return for some time. He was aware that the chore did not take her very long but he also knew she was avoiding him. After nine days on the island they saw no animal larger than a bird or a lizard, therefore he felt no ardent concern for her being alone despite how much he did not wish it and did not press her about wondering around unaccompanied.

Using a wide, thin rock he found, he set to work. He had been chopping stakes for several days and now that he believed he had enough he thought it best to begin. He dug a trench down the center of the shelter about a one foot deep and six feet long. When he was finished he inserted the stakes within it, placing them as close together as possible. After filling in the trench he stood back to admire his work. He had built her a wall, a high wall almost the height of the shelter, a wall that separated her from him, but also one that afforded her the privacy that she so deserved. He was reaching for the water jug and was about to sit down for a rest when Elizabeth stepped in.

"What is this?" She was obviously confused and stared at the tall structure without a glace at him.

A little hurt that she did not immediately understand the gesture, Darcy spoke in a sarcastic tone, "It is a wall, Miss Bennet."

"A wall! In the middle of the shelter, what for?" Her bewilderment only grew as she turned to Darcy and noted the irritated expression on his face.

"For you of course." He stood and walked toward the opposite side of the tent and gestured to her bed on one side of the wall, "May I present you with your quarters for the remainder of your stay. I hope you find the accommodations to your liking, madam." He tried to sound more benevolent but he could not help but feel offended by her reaction.

Elizabeth stepped forward, placing the clean articles down on a crate as she passed and stood next to her bed looking about her. The space was only about five feet wide by six feet long but it was her own and more importantly he had done it for her. "You built me a wall." She paused and turned around to look at him, giving him the smile he dreamed of, "Thank you! This was very kind of you and must have taken you much time and energy." She stepped forward with such enthusiasm he almost wrapped his arms around her and hugged her for her gratitude. Instead he smiled faintly and looked at his creation.

"Not so very much, I was able to do it in two days. I found many of the stakes already broken off the trees from the storms." He inspected his handiwork as he spoke, shaking one of the post to test its stability more out of a need to occupy his hands rather than a true concern for its steadiness. "You approve then?"

"Yes! That is to say, I appreciate it very much." He did not desisted from his inspection and she sensed he did not fully comprehend her meaning. "I do not want you to believe that I could not have continued as we were. It is only that I am not used to living in such close quarters with a man and…"

He felt the need to interrupt her before the conversation became too embarrassing for him, "I understand you completely. That is why I elected to build this divider. I supposed you wished for your own space and our options are rather limited so I opted to work with what we had. I only wish I could give you more." When she did not respond for several moments he continued, not able to endure the awkward silence, "If only there was something to be done about the beds! I am quite sure that sleeping on crates will be the death of me. And the ground is no better option, although it is softer, one must share it with the insects. I suppose I must make do with the lesser of two evils."

"I am sorry that it brings you so much discomfort."

"Oh, do not concern yourself about it." He felt a sudden need to be alone and quickly grabbing his makeshift net walked toward the opening of the shelter. "I will see about dinner," and with a nod, he walked to the beach.

* * *

They sat in front of the fire that night as they had almost every night since they arrived on the island. Elizabeth worked tirelessly with the long, thin blades of a plant, trying to weave them together and making slow progress. They spoke dispassionately about the things that had occurred that day - the early morning rain, the beautifully colored bird Elizabeth saw by the waterfall, Darcy's new crabbing techniques and not the wall. Both had a head full of questions for the other that they dare not ask and instead sat across from each other as if there was not a thought between them.

After a full fifteen minutes of silence, Elizabeth spoke without quite knowing why, "How big do you suppose our island to be?"

Darcy looked up, quite surprised at the question and her manner of posing it, "Our island? We do not own it, madam. I suspect about four miles wide and seven miles long."

"I see. No, I suppose we do not own it in the legal sense, but we certainly have a claim to it seeing as though its _owner_ does not seem to mind our staying here. If he does, it might be beneficial if he made himself known."

"I comprehend your point but I am not so sure I would want ownership of this island or anything to do with it once we leave it."

"Perhaps not. But now it seems to be bound to us and therefore I wish to take responsibility for it seriously."

Darcy could not help but gaze upon her, her eyes sparkled in the mischievous way he loved but saw rarely and only wished to encourage her to continue in hopes her expression never changed, "In what way do you mean?"

"Well, what is the first thing one must do when they acquire new property?"

"Survey the land?"

"Well of course, but what else, something more important."

Darcy thought back to several months ago in Hertfordshire, "Introduce oneself to the neighbors?"

She smiled as she understood how little he would like that task, "Yes, but that will hardly do for us. I am quite sure our closest neighbors, Sir Crab and Lady Fish would wish to never be acquainted with us. I am thinking of something more lasting and descriptive."

Darcy had an idea of where she was headed and purposefully chose an alternate route, "Draw a map?"

"A name! Our island needs a name!"

"I see. And I suppose you have a suggestion." Despite the fact that he cared little for naming such a place, at least a name he could share with others, Darcy was delighted with her good humor. _"As long as she is smiling and talking to me, I care not what of!"_

"Yes. Sanguine Island."

Darcy almost snorted out loud. That was certainly not what he had in mind. "_Sanguine_. Are you quite sure, madam?"

"Yes, quite."

"And what brought that particular name to mind, because I must admit, there is nothing about this island that I find _sanguine_."

"Oh I beg to differ. I understand that our being here denotes uncertainty and our situation can be construed as grave, but it is also possible to look around at our unmistakably striking surrounding and be encouraged. One of the first things you said to me after I awoke was that things could be much worse and I believe you now. And I have hope, something I have missed for quite sometime. Things are not so dire; we have food, shelter, company…"

"I see your point and I admire your conviction even if I cannot totally agree with it." Darcy was warmed by her words and felt grateful for her presence; she never ceased to surprise him. "And I suppose "sanguine" can be interpreted in another more appropriate way as well."

Elizabeth smiled at him, pleased that he understood her, "Yes. It is hard not to notice that nature on this island seems to have an affinity for the color red. The Latin root of the word suggests the color as well. Well, blood more accurately, but the color of blood."

"Do you know Latin?" Darcy was slightly astonished to learn this about her, not many women took the time to learn it.

"A little." Elizabeth could not help but blush, "My father has several books, my favorite being a collection of Latin proverbs. I confess to only studying that particular text, I found it to be quite enlightening and entertaining."

"Quidquid discis, tibi discis."(2.)

"Yes indeed, especially when you must rely on yourself for all the learning, but mother did not place a high priority on our education, although she always meant well. Cuiusvis hominis est errare."(3.)

"My mother always told me to remember that one, she felt it was the key to life, one must always stay grounded."

Elizabeth could not help but laugh at him, unable to comprehend hearing such words from Mr. Darcy. "I am sorry, sir."

"I suppose you think it strange coming from a man in my position in life. Well there is another that compliments it, Donec eris sospes, multos numerabis amicos. Tempora si fuerint nubila, solus eris." Elizabeth looked puzzled so he offered her the translation, "'As long as you are wealthy, you will have many friends. When the tough times come, you will be left alone.' It is why I rely on and trust so few."

"Certainly such caution must lead to a rather lonely life does it not? Non nobis solum nati sumus."(4.)

"I will admit that I am not surrounded by friends as you often seem to be, but those friends I do have I treasure."

"Is it not because that is how you wish it to be?"

"Partly. I certainly have not the talent which some people possess of conversing easily with those I have never met before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done."

"My fingers do not allow me to work these blades into a mat in the masterly manner I would wish them do, but that is because I have not attempted the art before, not because I believe I am not capable of doing so. I only need to practice; Fabricando fit faber, Mr. Darcy."(5.)

1. Yes they just happened to have an axe.

All proverbs can be found at wikiquote. I'm no Latin scholar, just find it interesting.

2. Translation: "Whatever you learn, you learn it for yourself."

3. Translation: "Every human can err."

4. Translation: "We are not born for ourselves alone"

5. Translation: "Practice makes perfect."


	8. Chapter 8

A/n - We're having family visit for the weekend so I wanted to get this up before then since I doubt I'll have a chance to sit in front of the computer this weekend (that means no writing either :( )

And to all those who review, Thank you so so so so so much! Some of you, Bardlover and Lianada in particular, are too kind! I'm all giddy!

* * *

Chapter 8

Day 10

The next morning started no different than the others. This schedule was a source of distress for Darcy and comfort for Elizabeth. Darcy did not want to feel at ease on the island, it promoted a sense of security and contentment he did not wish for as he desired only to obtain these emotions by leaving this dreadful island. Elizabeth found it perfectly acceptable and almost believed she could live out her days in such a place, even with Mr. Darcy for her only company. At first she was not so compliant, but after much reflection she decided the only way she could stay sane was to accept her situation and make the best of it.

It was her companion that most concerned her. She still knew not what to make of him and changed her opinion of him each time he looked at her. At times she thought him almost charming, as she did the night before. At other times she found him down right frustrating, as she did that morning when he insisted that he needed no help starting the fire. She never felt just comfortable in his presence, she either felt one extreme or the other, and it was this that distressed her the most.

As Elizabeth reflected on her feelings, the subject of them was walking down the beach carrying a small bag of fruit. He dared not look at her, which granted her the opportunity to inspect him. She had grown used to his disheveled appearance, the loose dirty clothes and his bare feet, but his beard was a whole other matter. Just like the man who wore it, Elizabeth felt appalled and attracted to the shaggy hair that grew on Darcy's face. It was dark, like the hair on his head, but when looked at in the light revealed to have several strands of reddish hair. Darcy was constantly scratching at it, which irritated Elizabeth and only made her wish more for its removal. But something about it looked intriguing and made her want to reach out and stroke it. Was it rough as she suspected it to be, or soft as the wavy hair on his head appeared to be? Of course, such an action was out of the question, and the thought of caressing Mr. Darcy's face caused her to look down and her face colored.

She tried in vain to concentrate on her work, the mat she had started the night before, and did not look up again until he was standing before her. "Making any progress?" he asked, sitting down on a rock and taking out a piece of fruit.

"A little. I have taking it all apart more times than I can count, but I am determined. And you, have you accomplished all that you have sought out to today?"

"Well no, seeing as we are still here." He smiled and handed her a piece of fruit without asking her if she wanted it, she took it without thanking him and neither noticed the others' lack of manners.

"Do you always set such high standards for yourself? Perhaps on the day you decide not to will be the day you actually achieve it."

"Perhaps, but I cannot conceive of attempting your plan." He finished his fruit and tossed the pit out to sea. When he looked back, Elizabeth was gesturing at her face and eyeing him strangely. "Is there something the matter?"

"Pardon me, sir, but you seem to have a piece of fruit stuck to your face."

Darcy rolled his eyes and began wiping his face with his hands, an act he would never thought to do in front of anyone in any other circumstance. "It is this awful beard, I have never had one before and I must say it takes some getting used to. It is exceptionally uncomfortable, very itchy." As he said this he began scratching at his face in the manner Elizabeth previously found grating and now found amusing. She laughed.

"Is there nothing you can do, there were no shaving implements with the personal belongings we found?"

"There is actually, there is a razor."

Elizabeth looked perplexed and smiled as she asked her next obvious question, "And why do you not use it?"

Darcy paused before answering, slightly embarrassed by the answer, though he knew not why. "I have never shaved myself before and I did not think the best time to learn would be without a mirror."

"I see. Was there nothing else, no soap?"

"No, another reason I was apprehensive. There was a bottle of foul smelling oil though."

"Might I make a suggestion?"

"Of course," Darcy was eager for any assistance.

"We could heat some water and put some rags in it, then place the hot rags on your face. The heat makes the skin quite soft and easier to shave."

Darcy sat up straighter, his eyebrows raised, "That might work, although it does not solve my other problem, I cannot properly see without a mirror."

Elizabeth was silent for a few moments, considering if she should speak her next thought. She looked at him as his fingers ran over his face and her mouth opened apparently without direction from her mind, "I could do it for you."

Darcy's eyes widened and he stole a quick glace at her before looking away, both of their faces coloring. Elizabeth was mortified and wished desperately to take back her words.

"I… had not thought of that. But I would not wish to impose upon you, it would be asking too much of you." Seeing him as embarrassed as she was some comfort to Elizabeth and it provoked her to offer her services once again.

"It would be no trouble. Although I have no experience myself and I would not think less of you if you would not wish it." Her consideration touched him and he was inclined to accept her offer despite the impropriety of it. Finally he decided that there was quite a lot of room for impropriety on their island, therefore if she did not mind than neither did he.

"Alright then, I will accept your offer." His smile unnerved her, she would never have expected him to even consider the idea, never mind accept it. Fear gripped her as she suddenly realized all that her task may entail. She had no time to address him however, as he had already rose and made for the shelter. When she reached the tent she found him starting a fire and watched him in silence.

"I will go fill the jug now," and he left for the stream, leaving Elizabeth behind in a nervous daze. When he returned he placed the jug by the fire and started looking through one of the crates, pulling out pieces of clothing. For several minutes Elizabeth sat, staring into the flames, listening to Darcy speak excitedly about the removal of his beard. "I should be very happy to feel my face again; you really have no idea what a struggle it has been…" Elizabeth had never heard the gentleman speak in such rushed, animated tones. When he deemed the water warm enough, he submerged the cloth inside the jug, keeping hold of one end and then raised it to wrap around his face.

"How long do you suppose I should keep it on?"

Elizabeth looked up, surprised he was asking her a question and faltered slightly before speaking, "Oh, well, several minutes I believe, you may have to place the rag in the water again." Darcy nodded and complied with her instructions. When the appropriate amount of time had passed he held out the razorblade to Elizabeth.

"Here you are Madam Barber." Elizabeth smiled awkwardly as she took the instrument from his hand and rose to begin.

She knew not wear to start and was extremely apprehensive about approaching him. She stared bewildered at his chin, her uneasiness now clear to Darcy. "It is alright, Miss Bennet, do not be afraid of harming me," he said calmly, looking intently at her mouth as her breath quickened. Elizabeth swallowed, nodded slightly and gingerly stepped forward.

She brought the razor to his cheek and very gently moved it down his face, working on small areas at a time. She was still standing at an awkward distance from him, unable to see clearly. As she continued she became braver and moved slightly closer to him, now more concerned with the precision of her work than the discomfort of being so close to his figure. After a time, she completely forgot herself and stepped even closer to him, now placed rather provocatively between his legs, and laid her other hand on the opposite side of his face in order to guide his head into the proper position. This development had a rather striking effect on Darcy.

He had not given much thought as to how she would shave him, and now he was presented with her form standing no more than a foot away from him, her hand caressing his face. It was all almost more than he could bear. Her bosom was directly in front of his eyes, moving slowly up and down in sync with the breath that he felt lightly tickle his neck as she bent down slightly to gain a better view. Looking up, he could see her focused eyes, a delicate crinkle between her brows, and her lips open slightly. If she was not holding a sharp instrument so close to his neck he thought kissing her would be the only rational thing to do. He imagined reaching forward and easily placing his hands around her waist, pulling her forward into an embrace. His breathing quickened as his thoughts wondered, no longer caring about being shaved. As Elizabeth finished she reached to their side to retrieve the rag and as she did so she leaned over Darcy's leg, her body momentarily pressed against it. His hands on his knees, Darcy gripped tightly as she turned back toward him to meticulously wipe down his now smooth face. His eyes never left hers and she continued her activity without notice of his change in demeanor until her eyes met his and she abruptly stopped.

There was no mistaking the longing in his eyes and Elizabeth was lost for a moment, matching his desire equally as she gazed back at him. As the tension between them rose, Elizabeth moved her face toward him ever so slightly, an obvious sign of acceptance, when Darcy's eyes darting quickly down to her lips and back. The brief loss of eye contact broke the spell and Elizabeth quickly backed away, horrified by what had almost just occurred. Turning away, her hand went immediately to the hair around her face.

Darcy cleared his throat and stood slowly, his voice was quiet and low, "Miss Bennet, thank very much…"

"Yes," she interrupted, "You are very welcome. I will go wash this now." And with that, she ran off in the direction of the waterfall, leaving a befuddled and disappointed Darcy behind.

* * *

Elizabeth sat on a rock, the clean rag laid out to dry next to her, her eyes fixed on the sparkling drops falling before her. She found the consistent sound of running water soothing and the rainbow effect of the sun's rays dancing across water thoroughly distracting. It was all that she had hoped for when she ran away from the shelter to this spot, her sanctuary. Part of her felt remorseful for claiming the setting as her own private retreat, considering it was Darcy who had originally found it. She "allowed" him to use it whenever he wished, which was not very frequent. It made her wonder if he stayed away because he merely did not care to visit it, or because it was out of respect for her. Her heart told her it was the latter and that knowledge only fueled her already confused emotions. 

"_What almost just happened?"_ was the thought she was trying to drive from her mind. She yearned for any theories on the subject to be banished from her head and to go on pretending it never occurred. Her hopes were in vain. _"I do not understand, first the wall, now that look…"_ It then occurred to Elizabeth that it was in fact not "first the wall" it was first saving her life, second keeping her alive and protecting her, third building her a shelter, fourth keeping her fed, fifth complimenting her, _then_ building her a wall, and only after all that came "the look." _"Does he expect me to grant him my affection only because of all that?"_ No, she could not believe that of him, or could she? She thought back to all those months ago to the man she used to know, or thought she knew. He was a proud and indifferent man then, and she could easily believe it of him. What was so different now?

Everything. Everyday, even those days when he frustrated and irritated her, he proved himself to be the opposite of what she had previously believed. It was not the first time that such puzzling and contrary views of the man were presented to her. Before she fled England, after all that had occurred, fleeting thoughts that made her question her prejudice of him crossed her mind. She did not dwell on them at the time however; she had so much else occupying her thoughts. She certainly never believed any of it would matter, and now suddenly it seemed to be all that mattered. She could not possibly give any credit to the emotions that he stirred within her without first making up her mind about his character.

But such a task had far more implications that she cared to admit. If she decided he was a rake and was not to be trusted then she must endure living with such a man and constantly be on her guard. On the other hand, if she decided that he was all that was good then here too she must protect herself. She would then have to acknowledge that he deserved more that her company, her deserved her heart and she was well on her way to giving it to him.


	9. Chapter 9

A/n - Again, I can't thank my readers and reviewers enough!

Chapter 9

Day 11

Elizabeth stared with an expression of serenity out at the horizon. The sky was wrapped in color, the vivid maroon light the shade of earth beneath her. The sun was only half way through its performance, hanging above the dazzling water like a stubborn child not wishing to go to bed. Shifting uncomfortably on the rock she sat upon, Elizabeth sighed, her face twisting. Despite all the confused and nervous energy buried inside of her, the scene before her had evoked a sense of calm, but it was short-lived. She thought it only fitting as most everything about her life on the island was a series of puzzlements and contradictions.

She had been trying so hard to be content with her situation, seeing as though there was not much that could be done about it. She had been successful for several days, but then there were those moments that sent her mind reeling and her heart in an unremitting state of rotation. It was never the island that caused her such distress, with its peacefully swaying cedars and soft waves crashing at the shore. No, in fact, it was always him, the gentleman she was again hiding from, the one she only just recently realized she was falling in love with. He reminded her of England, of what she left behind. He induced in her a sense of guilt for being a burden to him for he seemed to take everything on himself. He would look upon her at one moment as if his only purpose in life was to serve her and then in the next as if he disapproved of her in every way. He was a perfect representation of everything she was not and the life she would never have, and regardless of all that, she was beginning to suspect he was exactly what she wanted and needed. The thought was highly distressing.

She had left her home for a new world with every intention of being a burden to no one and serving as her own caretaker. She had confidence in her decisions, although it gave her great pain, and had no doubt of her success regardless of whatever difficulties she encountered. Now she saw things much differently and questioned all of her choices. She could only compare her life at home before she left to her life now and ponder if it had all been worth it. She pictured the angry look on her father's face and remembered the sense of despondency that followed Jane around wherever she went. Her chest tightened as she recalled those few weeks before she left – her mother wailing, her youngest sister and her hurtful comments, the whole house in a state of depression and turmoil. It was all her fault. Yes, she was glad she left, glad to be away from the only home she knew, aware that it was better place in her absence. She could cope with life in this heart-wrenching paradise knowing that it benefited her family. It would only take more effort on her part to maintain control of herself when around him, to take no heed of his expressions and gestures and merely continue living together as acquaintances. That should be easy enough compared to everything else she had suffered through.

* * *

Darcy was preparing dinner when she walked back into the tent, a look of concern immediately converted into relief when her smiling face greeted him.

"Good evening Mr. Darcy. How is your face, I hope I was not too severe last night?"

The astonishment on Darcy's face was an amusing deterrent, but Elizabeth looked away in hopes of staying true to her resolution. She sat on a crate on the opposite side of the fire, as far from him as possible. Darcy, meanwhile, was utterly confused. He had expect her to return in her quiet way, as she does when she is angry with him or distressed in general, and was prepared for an evening of furtive glances and little conversation. Now she appeared indifferent but cheerful, as if shaving his face and almost kissing him was an everyday occurrence for her. He wished it was. Now she sat there looking away, she had taken up her mat again and began working at it methodically, her small delicate hands weaving the pieces together. He remembered that she had asked him a question.

"No indeed, you were very gentle. I am exceedingly grateful."

"It is no matter, but you are welcome." She looked up at him briefly and then down again to her work. Darcy nodded as if they had silently agreed that the topic should be dropped and then sat down again to finish his task.

During dinner they spoke of the normal things and soon after Elizabeth rose to retire for the evening. It was an early hour for slumber, but he did not question her in fact he was relieved. He sat up with the fire for several hours trying in vain to read the one book he was able to find in the wreckage, a romantic three-volume novel, before turning in to his side of the shelter. As he sat down on his bed he heard a small noise coming from the opposite side of the wall. He stilled and strained his ear to make out the sound. After a moment he realized it was Elizabeth that was producing the noise and she appeared to be mumbling in her sleep. Her words were indistinguishable and very quiet and they made Darcy smile while he sat and listened to her, feeling a strange intimacy with her for sharing in her unconscious vocalizations. Suddenly he began to grasp the tone of her voice and realized that her speech was in distress, her voice grew to be louder as it became more and more clear that her dreams were not pleasant. Darcy sat quite still, unsure of what to do. He did not wish for her to continue in that way, it pained him to listen, but he was also hesitant to wake her knowing she would be upset and embarrassed. Finally he decided he could not let it carry on any longer.

"Miss Bennet!" he shouted, now standing next to his bed, his fists clenched at his side, "Miss Bennet, are you alright?"

Elizabeth woke with a cry and sat up in her bed unsure of where she was. She frantically felt around and placing a hand on the wall next to her she quickly recalled everything.

"Miss Bennet?" said Darcy tentatively; ready to run to her side at any sign she was in need of his aid.

"Sir, I am alright, I believe I was only dreaming." Elizabeth lied back down, feeling lightheaded.

"Can I get you anything? Some water, perhaps?" Darcy was anxious, and very likely overreacting to the situation, a small part of him, which he would not admit to himself, acting out of a selfish desire to go to her bedside.

Elizabeth answered without considering the question, "Yes please." He reacted quickly and was standing at the entry to her space with a glass of water in less than a minute. He dared not move forward without permission.

Elizabeth sat up again and reached out her hand, Darcy took a step forward and handed her the glass, stepping back again to watch her drink. When she finished, he repeated the action, taking back the glass. "Are you alright now? You seemed to be having a rather upsetting dream."

"Yes, I must have been. I cannot recall any of it now, which is probably for the better."

"Yes, of course." Darcy was standing, dumbly, empty glass in his hand, knowing he should leave, but unable to move. He gave her a small smile and then grimaced when she returned the gesture by lying down again, facing away from him.

"Thank you, sir, and good night."

"Good night" he said, barely above a whisper, thinking she cared not whether or not he said it.

When he reached his bed again and sat down, he placed his hands over his face and rubbed the stubble on his cheek already growing back in. He wondered briefly if she would ever agree to shave him again. _"Doubtful_." He threw himself down onto his bed of wooden crates a bit too harshly and let out a sharp yelp when his shoulder hit the wood.

"Sir?" said Elizabeth's voice. Her bed was directly on the other side of the wall, making them only a few inches apart when they slept. It was a thought Darcy tried to forget every night, but he certainly never considered any other place for his bed. When she spoke her voice was quiet clear, as if she really was lying in bed next to him.

"I am alright. Just this… awful bed. I'm afraid I find it a bit uncomfortable." Darcy suppressed the urge to swear through his pain.

"So I have heard you mention before. Is there nothing that can be done?"

"Not that I can think of. I suppose we are lucky not to be sleeping on the ground like animals."

"Yes," she paused, "Although I find there is something romantic about lying on the ground and gazing up at the sky. You may find it quite savage to partake in such an activity, but I used to do it quite often, back home."

"No, you misunderstand me. I cannot find fault in enjoying nature in such a way, I too have done the same often enough at Pemberley, but to sleep there and claim the ground as your home, it does not do for the long-term."

"I see," Elizabeth tried to suppress her amazement.

"You would like it, I think. Pemberley, that is."

"Oh, and why is that?" Darcy could hear her smile through her words.

"You seem to enjoy nature and walking, and the grounds span nearly ten miles, little touched or altered, with ponds and streams a plenty. While I dearly love the home I grew up in, it is its location that I truly miss. To ride through the forests, along the water or down the hill to the front door of the house is one of the most enjoyable activities," he sighed, "I have not had the opportunity to see it in some time. I had much business in town this winter."

"It sounds lovely, I am sorry you are so separated from it, and your family." Elizabeth could hear him turn to his side, facing the wall, and herself.

"Yes. My sister, Georgiana, especially. She is more than ten years my junior and must now feel very alone in the world. My father has been gone these five years, my mother ten. I was all she had. If it is assumed that we perished, I fear greatly for her well-being. She is still so young and impressionable. My cousin would then have full responsibility for her, but he is a colonel and travels quite a bit. It is very likely she will go to live with my aunt, and that… would be regrettable indeed."

"Your aunt, Lady Catherine, of whom my astute cousin spoke to you of?"

"Yes, you may have heard a number of things about her from your cousin. Let me assure you, she is formidable woman who delights in giving others her _advice_, which one should take as direction unless you are prepared for the consequences. My sister is quiet and insecure, under such guidance I can only imagine what will become of her. Most likely quite like my cousin Anne, weak and callow."

Elizabeth knew not what to say to this speech. She never imagined discussing his family with him, and certainly not in such an open and honest way. His words were quick and flowing, which proved his eagerness to talk to her on the subject. _"Imagine that, Mr. Darcy can be loquacious!" _She was intrigued and decided to press him further; remembering what was said about his engagement to his cousin. "Are you close with your cousin?"

"Anne? No. Even as a child she was like a ghost of a person, she could not sneeze without my aunt explaining to her the proper way to do it. I do not mean to speak so ill of my relations, but it is only the truth. Not every family is as close as yours."

Here she was caught biting her lip, almost ready to divulge the truth, but fear ran through her heart and she held back. "Closeness in proximity does not necessarily make you intimate with your relations, but yes, I would say we all know each other quite well. Although it is not hard to make out the characters of the Bennets upon meeting them, you need not live with them to realize they are entirely ridiculous."

Darcy laughed softly along with her, remembering a time when he thought entirely the same thing. "Ridiculous is a rather harsh word, madam, they are… eager perhaps?"

"Eager! Yes! And silly, Lydia is without a doubt the silliest girl in all of England. I am sure you cannot argue with _that._ You could not have missed her behavior at the Netherfield Ball." Elizabeth stopped abruptly, remembering the event that she was referring to. It was the last time they had met, when everything was so different. With the obstruction of the wall and the darkness within the shelter, Darcy was unaware of the change in her disposition, his laughter only grew.

"Yes, I do, I remember being rather disturbed by it at the time, I am sorry to tell you. Thinking back on it now though, I cannot help but admire your sister in some respects. She may be young and a little foolish, but she is strong-willed and does not seem afraid to go after what she wants. There is a lot to be said for that attribute."

Elizabeth was shaken out of her reflection by his words, _"Did I hear correctly? Did Mr. Darcy just compliment my sister? Surely he is confused, he cannot be talking about Lydia Bennet!" _"In a man perhaps, but certainly not in a woman."

"I am surprised to hear to speak so of your own sex."

"Oh, I did not say it because I believed it to be true, but only because it is generally thought to be true. You must agree that a woman is not respected or admired unless she is demure, at least not a young, single woman."

"That is often the case, you are quite right, but there are a few exceptions. You, for instance."

Elizabeth instinctively turned away, placing a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide. They had been having such an easy, pleasant, friendly conversation. It was almost like those night she and Jane would stay up late and lie in bed next to each other discussing all the important things in life. He was so easy to talk to in the darkness, with the security of a wall between them. But he managed to destroy the illusion of affability with his compliments. It brought back all Elizabeth's feelings of confusion and guilt. She now wanted nothing more than his silence. "That is very kind of you to say. I am rather tired; I would like to sleep, if you do not mind."

On the other side of the wall, the smile that had grown accustomed to gracing Darcy's face during their conversation had suddenly vanished. "Very well, Miss Bennet. Good night," said Darcy, fairly tersely.

"Good night, sir." They both turn away from each other, their backs to the wall. Neither found sleep for some time.


	10. Chapter 10

A/n - Wow, I have over 100 reviews, thank you all so much! Ok, so here's the chapter that many of you have been waiting for. It took me many rewrites before I was happy with it. When I began this story I made up the idea that Elizabeth did "something" just as a plot device to get her on the ship and on the island with Darcy and had no idea that so many readers would be so interested in what she actually did. Ok, here it is...

Chapter 10

Day 12 to Day 15

As the next several days past, the jovial and lively Elizabeth that Darcy had met all those months ago laid dormant and was replaced again by the quiet and elusive woman who hid from him at every opportunity. When she was in his company she barely spoke and worked tirelessly on her mats. He decided not to press her, having learned from the past that it did not always result in his favor, and he gave her time and space. It broke his heart to see her so despondent, but he assumed it had everything to do with her separation from her family and knew not that her chief concern was, in fact, him.

Finally, having decided that a change in routine may aid in a revival of Elizabeth's improved spirits, Darcy suggested an adventure of sorts one morning.

"Miss Bennet, in the past you have expressed interest in what you claimed to be our own property, 'Sanguine Island' as you call it. Do you have any further interest in exploring our claim?"

Having become accustomed to their mutual avoidance of each other, Elizabeth was slightly irritated by his questioning. After a moment's reflection, she sighed, put down her mat and said, "What do you mean by that sir?"

"Simply that I have an interest in exploring this island a bit. It is not large, it is likely that we can walk to one end and back before sundown. I only wish to know if you would like to accompany me."

"And what advantages to you see in such an excursion? I believe it would be very taxing and could lead to surprising obstacles. What if we are attacked by a wild animal or a lurking savage? How will we carry water with us, surely you do not expect to carry that large jug several miles and back? No, sir, I cannot fathom why you would want to make such a doomed expedition."

Surprising both himself and his bad-tempered companion, Darcy was hardly able to suppress his laughter. When she looked up at him, her eyes filled with annoyance and her lips pressed together into a very endearing pout, he found he could not control himself and laughed quite out loud.

"Sir! You are laughing at me! I see no reason to continue this conversation." She stood and meant to leave the shelter when he grabbed her arm as she passed by. Her eyes ablaze with fury, she spun around and snatched her arm quickly out of his grasp. "How dare you!"

"Forgive me, madam," a smile still present on his lips, "I merely found your explanation of possibilities rather… amusing. I certainly did not mean to offend you, but you reacted rather harshly. I do not believe it can be so dangerous. We have lived in this 'paradise' for over a fortnight and I have yet to see any signs of dangerous creatures. I believe the island is too small for any formidable foes to be lurking in the shadows, such beasts could not survive. I truly believe it is safe to travel, but only together, and I shall bring the rifle as a precaution. I do not wish to abandon you for an entire day, therefore our only options are to travel together or give up on the idea."

Elizabeth was staring at him intently as he spoke. She was beginning to feel rather foolish for her reaction, but she was determined not to allow him to see that. "I still do not believe it is a worthwhile mission, what do you hope to find?"

"Food perhaps, you may be growing tired of fruit and crabmeat. I think it is best to know our surrounding as well, what if there is a superior location for our shelter? And, I am merely curious. Being idle never suited me."

Elizabeth nodded, knowing the same to be true for herself. She too was growing rather weary of their small world. At home, she had been used to rambling miles around her family's property and surrounding village, she missed her long walks. With her eyes cast down and her arms crossed at her chest, she conceded, "Very well."

The cheery smile quickly returned to Darcy's face and when Elizabeth looked up all feelings of anger and resentment vanished. She found it difficult to stay cross with him long, and could even admit to herself that she reacted too severely. As he began to gather the provisions they would need for the journey, she watched and wondered at her behavior. She knew her regard for the gentleman improved greatly as of late and was deeply afraid of allowing those emotions to grow. She tried to keep her distance and maintain an amiable friendship, but it was difficult to pretend that he was merely an acquaintance when he slept only a few inches from herself. She found the most painless way to cope with the situation was to hide from him, but she did not like the coward that she had become. A few months ago, she would never have run from her problems, but now it always seemed like the most appealing option. _"Why have I let myself become this person?"_

She did not have much time to contemplate her troubles as Darcy was now standing in front of her, the jug of water tied at its handles with a strap and hanging from his shoulder, the rifle in one hand and a satchel in the other.

"Perhaps you could carry this small bag of fruit," he said, as he held out the bag.

"Of course," said Elizabeth, as she hesitantly took the bag from him.

* * *

After more than an hour of walking though a dense world of cedars, ferns and slightly rocky terrain, neither Darcy nor Elizabeth saw much of anything that caught their attention. There was little conversation between them as they walked, except for the odd comment on a bird or when Darcy questioned Elizabeth's comfort or thirst. Despite the lack of dialogue, neither thought the excursion was unpleasant, even Elizabeth was enjoying herself, taking in the tranquil environment.

As they passed a particularly rocky hill they decided to investigate further, in hopes that if they were able to get high enough they could see how much more distance they had to travel to get to the opposite side of the island. Darcy decided to climb first and if he thought the sight was worth seeing he would come back down to help Elizabeth up. She was not particularly pleased with the plan, having much more faith in her climbing skills, but she was not in the mood for an argument so she conceded to the proposal. After climbing several yards, Darcy disappeared at a plateau and then reappeared several moments later.

"There's a small cave up here. It does not look inhabited. I'm going to continue to climb up and see what else I can find," Darcy called down to her before withdrawing to continue his mount. Meanwhile, Elizabeth sat on a fallen tree at the base of the hill and enjoyed a piece of fruit thinking that even if they discovered nothing during their hike, it was worth it not to spend another monotonous day at the shelter. Twenty minutes after his ascent began Darcy was visual again and jumped down several feet from the ground, greeting Elizabeth with a wide grin.

"We are not that far from the shore, another mile I think, it was very difficult to see through the trees, shall we continue?" he asked fervently. Excited to be almost there Elizabeth enthusiastically agreed and they quickly picked up their pace.

Disappointment was what awaited them when they reached the shore. It seemed as though it was an exact replica of their own beach, with perhaps more rocks and more fallen trees. There was no sign of land in the distance, no ships on the horizon, no plentiful food source. They stood next to one another in a stupor, their disenchantment with their futile efforts evident on both their faces. Elizabeth was the first to be shaken from her thoughts, "Well, I suppose it is not all bad, I feel very refreshed from the exercise, and the weather was beautiful and not too hot." Not a minute later a rumble was heard in the distance and dark clouds were visible in the sky.

Darcy's eyes became wide and he hastily turned to Elizabeth, his frustration from before replaced with anxiety, "We must make our way back now, and quickly." Gathering their belongings they began to run, Elizabeth faltering slightly as it became evident that her slippers were not the best footwear for one to be running through a forest in. As Darcy was helping her back to her feet the first drops of rain started to fall and they reached only several hundred more feet when it started pouring steady upon them. Darcy stopped briefly and pointed to the hill not far from where they stood.

"The cave!" he shouted over the deafening crack of thunder. Elizabeth nodded and they both sprinted for the rocky mount. Taking her bag from her and throwing it over his shoulder, Darcy gently assisted Elizabeth as she carefully climbed the hill, staying almost directly behind her for fear that she may lose her balance. When they reached the plateau and entered the cave they both stood at the entrance and stared out into the now dark and unsettled forest. The peaceful scene that Elizabeth had enjoyed not a half hour before was transformed into a sight out of a gothic novel, complete with flashing lightning that illuminated the forest and suggestive shadows lurking at every corner. Elizabeth backed up instinctively, gasping slightly as she had yet to catch her breath. Darcy immediately took the bag, the rifle, and the jug from his shoulder, removed the glass and poured her a drink. When she was through, he did the same for himself, all the while watching her intently.

"Miss Bennet, I must sincerely apologize. I should not have suggested such a journey. Had I any indication of a storm, I should have gladly accepted another day spent at our camp, but instead we are now confined within this gloomy cave, far from our provisions and quite soaked through!"

"Mr. Darcy, please do not distress yourself. I must admit to you that despite my initial reluctance to make this trek across the island, I found I was rather enjoying myself. We both seem to have quite a knack for adapting ourselves, at least when on this island, therefore I believe our current situation will be no different. Come let us sit down and have some fruit, it seems it will be quite some time before we can continue back to our shelter."

After an hour their stomachs and their minds were full. The rain had not let up and it did not appear that it ever would. Their clothing dried slowly and as night began to fall, Elizabeth shivered slightly when a fierce wind blew through the cave.

"It appears as though we are to spend the night here," said Darcy, with a concerned look. "I only wish I could start you a fire, or that I at least had my coat or a blanket for you, you look very cold."

"I am fine, sir, it was only because of the wind. You must not always worry so about me, surely you have other things to think about," she said with a smile, her comment meant in jest. Darcy looked down, his face coloring, and when Elizabeth saw this, her own cheeks blushed. _"Why does he look so?"_

When his embarrassment passed, Darcy braved an answer, "There is nothing on this island that I contemplate more than you, madam." This time it was Elizabeth's turn to be affected, but when she saw the sly smile on his face, her chin rose.

"And why is that, do I confuse you?"

Darcy laughed, "Confuse me, madam, you most undoubtedly baffle me! At one moment you seem to be quite content and almost pleased with our situation and the next you appear to rather angry or miserable and I know not what I can do to help you."

"It is not your place to help me, sir, in fact no one can." The serious tone in Elizabeth's voice washed the grin off Darcy's face. They were silent again for some time, the gentleman debating with himself on whether or not to press the issue.

"Miss Bennet, I know I should not pry, you have made your feelings on that matter known, but I feel I must ask. Would you please tell me what it was that convinced you to leave England? I promise, whatever it is, it will never leave this cave." She was silent and still and he moved closer to her, sitting only a few feet away. His voice became quiet, "I do not wish to bring you pain by bringing this up, but I cannot help but think that whatever it may be, it is still haunting you."

Elizabeth felt numb. She closed her eyes in hopes that when she opened them again she would awaken from this dream. It was not so. She looked up and saw Darcy leaning towards her, his eyes filled with concern. Fighting back tears, she turned her face away. Darcy's heart was racing, his mind filled with questions. He truly believed that whatever it was, he could help her. What he was unsure of was why he had such a strong desire and need to be her savior. Perhaps it was out of guilt for not providing more for her, or for convincing her to go on this ill-fated trek, or more likely for lusting after her and almost kissing her. The feeling went beyond what was expected of a gentleman, and could only be described as a sense of obligation coming from a man in love.

Suddenly, a composed Elizabeth looked up but not directly at him. Her face was grave but showed resolve and she took a deep breath before speaking. "You may recall, all those months ago at the Netherfield Ball, that I questioned your lack of friendship with Mr. Wickham." Darcy stiffened and did not respond immediately, when he did it was only a slight nod.

Elizabeth continued, "After you, Mr. Bingley and his family departed the county I was afforded much more time to become acquainted with him. I believed him to be a very amiable gentleman with noble intentions and I found our tempers compliment each other rather well. At every instance in each other's company the conversation flowed most easily and I must admit I was quite taken with him." Here Elizabeth paused again, as if trying to find the strength to continue. "Our acquaintance continued through the winter and into spring. It was my original plan to travel to Kent before Easter to visit my friend Charlotte, now Mrs. Collins, but foolishly I allowed my affected heart and my scheming mother to convince me to stay in hopes that Mr. Wickham would makes his intentions known. I had become the type of woman that I had previously loathed, fantasizing about romance and love; it seemed all my sense was dissolved whenever I was in his company. I shudder to think of it now, how silly and naïve I was. One afternoon I found myself in Mr. Wickham's company, walking in a wooded lane not far from Longbourn. We often walked together, regularly outstripping our companions. There was a moment, rather fleeting, where he seemed to look at me quite tenderly and I thought how I would very much like him to kiss me. And then he did, and I was struck at how much I did not like it and did not welcome it. No, not at all. It was not that he was… so _very_ forceful, although his hands found themselves in places I was not expecting, and he did not respond at all when I tried to push him away. But as I initially welcomed his attentions I cannot truly fault him completely. After several uncomfortable moments a shriek caused him to quickly back away and we saw my sister, Lydia, and our neighbor, Miss Maria Lucas, in the path not far from us, having apparently witnessed what had occurred.

"Well, sir, you can imagine what became of their discovery, neither Lydia nor Maria are in possession of the ability to keep such an event to themselves. Maria undoubtedly told her mother, another inane female with a penchant for embellishing details and spreading rumors. Lydia immediately ran to Mama and soon my whole family and much of Meryton was aware of what 'Sensible Lizzy' was doing in the path with Mr. Wickham, although the rumors circulating were much worse than the truth. My father, poor Papa, was quite livid with me. I never knew such pain as what I felt when I looked into my father's eyes that day, such disappointment! He would not speak directly to me." The tears were now streaming freely down Elizabeth's face. "He did approach Wickham however and I know not what was said during that interview but the next day Wickham came to my home and it seemed as though everything was going to be alright. He proposed, quite awkwardly in front of my mother and sisters, and I accepted believing it was the right thing to do. The next several weeks only facilitated my faith that all would turn out for the better. I did care for him, although my feelings were not quite what I had originally believed them to be. Looking back on it now, it was the wedding planning and Wickham's perfect manners during that time that convinced me to think this way, although in my heart I knew it was not how things really were. Father did not speak to me at all during this time, in fact I barely saw him. I hoped that once we were married that his anger would subside so I decided to let him be. Perhaps it is that decision that I regret the most.

"A few days before the anticipated day, Mr. Wickham and I were allowed a few moments alone, my father had been quite insistent that we be chaperoned at all times and thinking of it now, I quite welcomed the supervision. During this short moment of freedom his demeanor changed and he addressed me in quite desperate tones. He tried to persuade me to elope with him to Scotland, where we could marry and live out our lives. I was quite surprised at the suggestion and questioned him as to the purpose of such a scheme. Why should we run away when the plans for our wedding were already set and would occur in a matter of days? We did not have time to continue the conversation however, as Mama then reentered the room. I was left rather uneasy about what occurred but tried to push it from my thoughts.

"The day before our wedding I arose early, not able to sleep, when a knock sounded at our door. No one but the servants was dressed and therefore it was some time before I was told who it was and what their business entailed. It was Colonel Forester with news about Mr. Wickham. Apparently he was missing. He had been seen late the night before by several of the Colonel's men, but not after midnight. Most of his belongings were absent as well, which suggested that he left of his own accord."

Darcy had been silent during Elizabeth's speech but let out a distinctive noise after her last sentence. It sounded almost like a growl. Choosing to ignore him, Elizabeth carried on, "The next morning, my wedding day, I did not dress. I could not. It was expected that I would put on my beautiful new gown, but I could not bring myself to do so for I knew he would not be waiting for me at the church. The Colonel returned midmorning with news. Wickham was spotted boarding a coach in Meryton two nights before and there was a note left behind, addressed to me. My father took it right away, opened it, read it and then simply stated that there would be no wedding. I cannot tell you exactly what was said in the letter, I read it only once and rather quickly at that, but the main point was that he would not marry me. He was very sorry and was sure I would recover easily, but he plainly could not marry a woman with so little to offer him financially. Somehow, I was not shocked at his reasoning, but it was his manner of writing that surprised me. It was almost as if he expected me to understand and forgive him. It was then that I realized I never really knew him, that I had driven reason away when I accepted his attentions. I had a fleeting moment where all I felt was relief that he was gone and till _that_ moment, I never knew myself.

"Life for me and my family only became more difficult after this. The fact was that my virtue was compromised and the scandal of my cancelled wedding quickly spread through the village and beyond. We could not walk anywhere without people pointing and whispering. One elderly woman was even so bold as to call me out in the street for being a…, well, less than respectable woman. I was deeply mortified. Each day brought another tantrum from my mother, more insults from my sister Lydia, more silence from my father. My only comfort during this time was Jane, and even she could not completely hide the disappointment in her eyes. After several weeks of enduring this pain I recognized that I could not continue in that house and formulized a plan to separate myself from my family, not only to restore my sanity but also with the hope that in my absence my sins would be forgotten and the dreams for my sisters' futures would be repaired.

"Knowing my father and Uncle Gardiner I decided that traveling to America was the best option, assuming that I would not be followed so far. Even if I was, I could not see how I would be found. Now…, well now they will believe me to be dead and it is for the best."

When it was apparent that she was finished with her story, Darcy quickly rose and with his back to her and his hands clasped behind his back, he stared out into the pouring rain. Elizabeth's tears were wiped away and she finally dared to look up at him. She was unable to read his reaction, not being able to see his face, but she recognized that he was upset by his posture. After a several minutes of silence he spoke, "Were there any efforts to find him and make him marry you?"

"Yes. My father and uncle traced him to London but were unsuccessful after that. I must confess that I prayed he would not be found and I cannot shake the guilt I feel over that, although I find I cannot regret it either. My father came home after a week while my uncle continued the search; by the time I left any hope of finding him was lost."

They were silent again for some time and being emotionally and physically exhausted Elizabeth moved to the wall of the cave in order lean up against it and obtain some rest. Upon hearing her movement, Darcy turned and took the now empty leather satchel over to her. "Please, use this to rest your head upon. I am sorry I have nothing to cover you with, not even my coat. Tomorrow I will find a way to get us home, no matter the weather."

"Home, sir?" said Elizabeth in a mocking tone, a smile returning to her face, her eyelids heavy.

Darcy watched her closely as she drifted off to sleep; sitting by her he brushed the hair from her face and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. He never felt more useless at that moment, feeling that he had failed her in so many ways. Sitting there, only a few inches from her cold, damp, weary body, he wanted nothing more than to hold her. He felt that if he could just wrap her in his arms and give her some comfort then he too would find some solace. Quite fatigued himself, all thoughts of propriety were lost and he inched toward her, slipping his arm around her lower back. She instinctive leaned into him, her head resting on his chest and he bent down slightly to give her a slow, affectionate kiss on the top of the head, nuzzling her hair and breathing in her scent. Before he too drifted off to sleep he leaned his head back against the wall and murmured, "Yes, Elizabeth. Home."

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A/n – So it's a little predictable probably but who else would cause such strife in the Bennet household but Wickham? I thought I'd add a few thoughts about Elizabeth's story for you since I have read many a "Elizabeth is caught kissing/touching/or just plain ol' alone with a man and is forced to marry Darcy (hopefully)" stories. While I definitely enjoy them, I find them rather unrealistic for the Regency time period. I am no expert and I have no sources in front of me, but I do have an opinion on the matter. This is not the Victorian era, and while there was a certain level of propriety expected from the middle and upper classes, it was not nearly as strict as it became later on in the 19th century. Just examine the Lydia/Wickham saga in P&P. We can assume they didn't just have pleasant conversations about ribbons the entire time they were alone before Darcy found them, they had sex. So this is a big no no because they eloped and if they'd never gotten married the Bennets would have been shunned and Darcy and Lizzy couldn't have married and all that. But they did marry and all was forgiven and that's important. It was as if no one cared about what happened before anymore (well, I'm quite sure Mr. Bennet and Lizzy did but I'm talking about society in general). I believe as long as marriage was inevitable that kissing and sex before marriage did occur and not much was made of it. Let's face it, sex before marriage has always and will always occur, but that's beside the point. So, if Lizzy was caught making out with Wickham in the woods and everyone found out about it would it be that big of a deal? I think it would cause people to talk and then they'd get over it as soon as they got married. But of course, in this story, they don't get married and a few people are appalled by it and the Bennets are shunned a little, but for the most part I think Elizabeth overreacted when she ran away. It was only a kiss and I think that their friends and acquaintances would have gotten over it eventually, even if Lizzy never did, some better gossip would eventually come around. As for the broken engagement, I don't think that was a big deal either. From what I've read it had worse consequences for the reputation of the man than the woman. Just look at Anne and Frederick, not that many knew of their broken engagement, but Anne felt no shame because of it and it must not have been taboo or JA wouldn't have put it in the story to begin with. So Lizzy kissed a guy she didn't marry, she didn't sleep with him or run off with him, not even close to what Lydia and Wickham did in the original story. What Lizzy did wasn't really all that bad and wouldn't have prevented her sisters from securing good husbands after some time had passed. With all that being said it has little bearing on Lizzy's conscience. Regardless of what society thinks of her, she thinks very little of herself and her involvement in what happen to her, and that's what's most important. She had to get away because of her guilt, and once Lizzy gets something in her head it's hard to get her to change her mind.So those are my thoughts, you may agree or disagree with them, but I thought you should know them so as to understand my thought process when writing this story. Thanks! 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Day 16

As the sun made its way across the sky early the next morning several rays feebly moved through the trees. One in particular was most clever and found itself shining directly into Darcy's sleeping face. His eyelids fluttered open; his long, dark lashes reluctant to separate. When he was finally able to open his eyes wide enough he turned his head away from the sunlight and looked down at the top of his companion's head. A gentle smile crossed his face as he remembered the night before. He had never imagined that sleeping in a cave could be so enjoyable. She had leaned against him all night and he had dared not moved for fear of waking her. She began with only her head resting on his chest but had somehow during the night placed her arm across him as well, her hand resting within the opening of his shirt. He had both his arms wrapped around her rather possessively and he was quite sure that he had never felt anything more wonderful. He placed a cheek atop her head and tenderly squeezed her body between his while saying a silent prayer asking that she not wake and ostracize him for taking such liberties. He was not sure he could take anymore of her avoiding him. Now that he knew what she felt like in his arms he was determined to convince her that it was where she should always be.

He closed his eyes and his thoughts wondered as his began softly kissing her forehead. Elizabeth stirred and lifted her head slightly, bringing her nose to his mouth. Not wishing that any part of her face be neglected, he placed a light kiss there as well. Her eyes opened slightly and Darcy quickly stopped his ministrations to gauge her reaction. The night before she had revealed much to him and he did not want to repeat Wickham's mistake.

Obviously confused and not totally aware of what was happening she spoke, "Sir?"

"Madam," he responded, released his hold on her slightly to bring a hand to her face. The tips of his fingers traced her cheekbone to her ear and then followed her jaw line to her mouth where they lingered and then he placed his hand under her chin. Elizabeth, during this time, became fairly awake and her breath quickened. She had many questions about how they came to be in such a position but somehow she could not find a reason to care about the answers. His face was so close to hers, she could feel his breath on her cheek. She turned slightly to look him in the eye, and the arm still wrapped around her tightened.

"Elizabeth," he said in a hoarse whisper, her eyes widening at the sound of her name on his lips, "I need to tell you… I need to ask you… something."

"What is it?" She swallowed.

"I…" he paused, "I would very much like to kiss you and I… I could not do so without asking first." His fingers were now running through her hair.

She could not speak. She was not sure what to say. If she said no he would let her go and stop looking at her so fondly and touching her so tenderly. If she said yes, then he may actually kiss her, and that was equally terrifying. Her eyes went to his lips and, quite unconsciously, she nodded. Her head was still moving slightly up and down when he leaned forward, stopping her movement when his own forehead touched hers. Her hand that still lay at his chest slowly made its way upward to his neck and suddenly she was filled with great emotion, as if she could laugh and cry at same time. She let out an awkward chuckle that made him smile a beautiful, radiant smile and when she saw it she swiftly tipped her head back and placed her lips on his.

Any surprise Darcy felt at her forwardness was quickly replaced by eagerness. He shifted himself slightly in order to bring her body closer to his. Then he gently pulled away from the kiss to look at her and was never happier to see her smile up at him. He captured her lips again, this time with more force and she was equal in her passion, placing both arms around his neck, one hand on the back of his head, each pressing themselves against the other. The kiss went on for sometime and when their lips broke away they did not release their hold on each other but only comfortably resumed the position they had held when sleeping.

Without being aware of it, they each felt the same awkward yet euphoric emotion and desperately wondered about the other's thoughts. _"What happens now?"_

Elizabeth lay in Darcy arms not wanting to move, wishing for time to stand still. She knew once they broke apart the only thing left to do would be to discuss what had happened and she was not ready for such a conversation. She was desperate to know what his expectations were but was terrified of confessing her own deeply hidden feelings._ "Perhaps it would be best to pretend it never happened."_

Suddenly deciding that this was the best course, she quickly removed herself from Darcy's embrace and stood, her hands nervously gripping each other. Darcy was still sitting up on the ground, his arms at his side where they fell when she pushed them off of her. He had an expression of uncertainty and annoyance on his face as he watched her pace in front of him. Then she spoke.

"Mr. Darcy, we should probably start for the shelter, do you not agree? It appears as though it might rain again today and I would not like to spend another night in this cave." She was standing expectantly near the front of the cave, the empty satchel in hands with the bright sun shining on her. Darcy could not help but be absorbed in her beauty even when she was so obviously rejecting him. Gingerly he stood, his back sore from sitting in the same position for so long. After gathering their things he walked over to her and stood behind her, placing his mouth only a few inches from her ear, his eyes fixed on the curve of her neck.

"As you wish, madam," he said in a low voice, before backing away and walking to the rocky edge.

* * *

They walked in silence for almost an hour. Elizabeth walked behind him, keeping her head down, no longer interested in taking in the beauty of the forest. Darcy was in front, his eyes fixed forward, only turning to assist her across any difficult terrain. When he did so he would stoically take her hand and try to meet her gaze but she would not comply. After several attempts at this, he dared not look at her again, his disappointment fueling his anger. It was then that Elizabeth looked up and saw the expression on his face, one of arrogant indifference. She knew that face well.

She was not certain what she should do. It was clear now what her feelings were, she was quite sure that she was in love with him; although how it began she could not say. _"What a thing to realize you are in love with a man whom you used to despise."_ And yet, she was reluctant to trust herself and her affection for him. He had yet to make his sentiments known and the last time she put her trust in a man she thought she loved she was abandoned as if the relationship had meant nothing. _"No. I cannot think him capable of that."_

When they were just about a mile from the shelter, the pain in Elizabeth's feet became almost more than she could bear. Her thin slippers had not held up very well during their journey and she berated herself for taking on such an excursion without the proper footwear. She concealed her agony well until a sharp rock caused her to cry out. Darcy swiftly turned and was immediately at her side helping her to a fallen tree.

"What happened? Did you twist your ankle?" His hands hung in the air near her feet, afraid to touch to her.

"No, sir, my ankle is not injured, but I fear my slippers were not up for the trial of walking several miles in a forest and my feet have suffered for it." She reached down and cautiously removed her right slipper to examine the damage. There was a tear in her stocking surrounded by a deep red stain. It was when Darcy tenderly took her foot in his hand that shame washed over her. That a man should see her feet and in such a horrid state! But he did not seem concerned with the impropriety of it; his only worry was her pain.

"Miss Bennet, you are in no condition to walk."

"Am I destined to spend the rest of my days on this log then?"

"Of course not. I shall carry you the rest of the way." Elizabeth's eyes widened and she looked down at her bleeding foot. She was about to respond when suddenly he was next to her, his arms moving beneath her and lifting her into the air.

She wanted to call him out, she wanted to chastise him, she wanted to push him away but she found she could not. Once again in his arms she never felt safer, never felt more relief. He was walking slower than before, his grip tightening whenever he had to step over a log or climb a small hill. At one point his foot slipped slightly on a mossy rock and in fear Elizabeth flew her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, letting out a small cry. She felt him stop and heard a low chuckle. When she lifted her face she found his turned to her, his eyes on hers, his lips forming a mocking grin.

"Have no fear, madam, I will not let you go. I promise." She turned away, her face coloring significantly and a small smile on her face. When he saw this, Darcy laughed again and continued walking, his firm hold never relaxing.

He brought her directly to the waterfall, knowing she would need to clean the wounds on her feet. He left her for a short while to bring their supplies back to the shelter and when he returned he had several clean rags with him.

"We should wrap your feet. Are you in any pain?"

"Only a little." Her legs were dangling in the water, the chilliness soothing away most of the pain.

"May I see?" He sat on the rock beside her, slightly lower than herself. She slowly lifted her feet from the water and reluctantly turned to face him. "I will be gentle," he said smilingly as he cupped her heals in his hand and began to pat her feet dry. With a look of concentration he inspected the cuts on her feet. "I believe you shall live, Miss Bennet."

She could not help but grin at his jest, "I am happy to hear that. Although I do not like being an invalid, do you believe they will heal very soon?"

He began wrapping her feet with the rags, "Not very soon. In a few days, I am sure. Until then, I am at your service."

"You mean to carry me around all that time?"

"Of course, madam, I would not have it any other way." To his vexation, her smile vanished and she looked rather alarmed. "You would prefer to crawl back to the shelter then?"

She looked down at him with a crease between her brow and a slight pout on her lips. "No sir! I am only concerned for you. I am sure you are not used to serving others."

A cloud passed over his face as he took her words to heart but when he looked up at her again he was struck by the trepidation in her eyes. "I believe I could get used to it" he said softly, while his thumb began to slowly massage her ankle. They sat like so for several minutes, rather caught up in the moment. Finally Darcy could not remain silent.

"Miss Bennet," he said, placing her foot down and getting up on his knees, taking her hand in his, "I must apologize…"

"No," she interrupted, "that is not necessary. You have nothing to be sorry for. You are… very much a gentleman." As she spoke her free hand found itself on top of his and she turned his hand in her own and ran a finger down his palm. Darcy, meanwhile, was having difficultly keeping his distance from her lips. Not wanting to prove her wrong, he merely leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Then with a raspy voice he thanked her, gathered her in his arms and carried her back to the shelter.

* * *

A/n - Thanks again for all those who read and review, you make it all worthwhile! I'm going on vacation this week and won't be back till the middle of next week. Although I'm bringing my laptop with me I'm not sure what internet options will be available or if I'll even have time to post. I'm a few chapters ahead in writing, so I'll post if I can. I'm almost caught up though! 


	12. Chapter 12

A/n - I've been trying to upload this chapter for a while but kept getting error messages so blame some of the delay on ffdotnet. Sorry it's only one chapter but I'm very close to being caught up with what I've written and at that point you will have to wait 1-2 weeks between posts, so I'm trying to stretch things out. Also, I was overwhelmed by the number of reviews, I really love you guys!

* * *

Chapter 12

Day 16 continued

As Darcy placed Elizabeth down on her bed delicately, she thanked him again for his trouble.

"It is no trouble, no trouble at all. Now, you must be hungry, I know I certainly am. Have some fruit while I am gone." He handed her the fruit and with one last smile he turned toward the beach.

Alone, Elizabeth had only her mat weaving to keep her company. She considered resting, but her mind was too full of thoughts of him every time she closed her eyes. The image of his smile kept coming back to her. _"So distinct from his unresponsive staring from last fall. It is as if he is a different man, he has changed so much. Or has he? I did not know him well enough then, I merely thought I did. How well do I know him now? Could he change again?"_ As hard as she could, she was not able to find a fault in him. Even his less than perfect attributes were endearing. Perhaps he took too much on himself, but it was only out of a sense of honor and responsibility. He was reserved, yes, but when he did speak he always had something of interest or importance to say. He was perhaps a bit taller than she would have liked, making her feel very small, yet if he was not so large perhaps carrying her would have been more of a burden. But even with all these pleasant thoughts of Darcy in her mind, Elizabeth could not shake her fear of loving him.

"_I do not deserve him, not now, and especially not if we find a way off this island."_

Just as Elizabeth was pondering this thought, the object of her deliberations walk in bearing a fish about the length of his arm in his hand.

"Mr. Darcy, how ever were you able to catch such a fish?" she exclaimed as she mistakenly tried to stand in order to see his catch more closely, wincing as she hobbled to a nearby crate.

"Miss Bennet! Please do not try and walk, you must allow your feet to heal. Here, let me put this fish down and I will help you to wherever you would like to go."

"And have you spread that lovely smell onto my only dress. No thank you sir, I am quite well where I am!" she could not help pressing him again, her excitement too great, "The fish, please tell me how you caught it, I assume he did not surrender easily."

"No indeed, he did not. I was able to pull apart various articles in our collection last week in order to make a hook and line, but I had no luck in catching a thing. Today I decided to use crabmeat as bait and not a quarter of an hour passed when I felt a sharp pull on the line. He was difficult reeling in to be sure! But finally I gained the upper hand, wrapping the line over a short log."

"I could not be more proud! And he is beautiful. Here, let me help you start a fire."

After the fish was cooked and thoroughly devoured, both Elizabeth and Darcy fell into a companionable silence as the late afternoon rain began to fall. The sound of the water pelting the canvas above them and splashing in the puddles near the front of the shelter brought back memories of the night before. Darcy stood to watch the rain, his hands clenched behind his back, not unlike the stance he took after Elizabeth had finished her sorrowful tale the previous evening in the cave. Again, he was fearful of pushing her too far, but he felt unequivocally drawn to her and now that he knew they shared the same demon in their past, he was sure that he was meant to love her. His only concern was her reaction to his story, the one he had yet to tell. Would she blame him as he blamed himself?

As the sky grew darker, he turned back to the fire, and after placing several more logs into the crackling flames he took a seat next to Elizabeth.

"Miss Bennet, may I be so bold as to ask if Wickham ever spoke of me?" He did not turn to her until his question was asked. She looked undecided and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Yes, but I believe you knew that already, did you not?"

"I suspected as much from your questions at Bingley's ball, but I must confess I am very curious as to what he told you of me."

She was quite and looked unmoved, he supposed she was trying out one of his own devices for hiding one's emotions, but he was able to see through her. She folded her hands together in her lap and he placed one of his own over them. From this she seemed to find resolve.

"He spoke of you often in the beginning, not just to me but to almost everyone. He claimed to be your father's god-son, that he was bequeathed a valuable living in the church by your father and when the living fell, it was giving elsewhere. He also claimed the reason for this was because of your jealously and unwarranted hatred towards him." She paused and turned away from him. "At the time I was quite convinced of his story and it had a profound effect on my opinion of you. I did not give it much thought again until after… and then, well again my thoughts of you were very poor. In fact, I blamed you in part for my situation, believing if you had not denied Wickham the living, then he could have afforded to marry me. Of course it was a foolish notion and I quickly gave up the idea. Certainly if you had given him the living, we would have never met."

"But even there I am to blame. If you had never met him, you would have been better off, would you not?"

"Sir, I cannot say. In any case, it is too petty to place any blame on you. I always considered myself to be an intelligent woman, and yet I was easily taken in by him. I have only myself to blame."

"I must beg to differ with you on that notion." He removed his hand from hers and began scratching at the stubble on his cheek. "Did you still believe his story, the one he told you about the living?"

"I do not know. I suppose it is very possible that he lied. Is that what you are telling me, that he lied to me as well?"

"Unfortunately I am. Although in some respects he did not. I did deny him the living, but it was not out of jealously, but out of pure common sense. He is a man with vicious propensities, with a want of principle rarely equaled among gentlemen. Unfortunately, my father was blind to this and acknowledged him as a favorite, promising Wickham a respectable living even in his death." As Darcy continued the story of Wickham's connection to his family, he found he could not sit still. He paced in front of the fire as he spoke of how Wickham voluntarily gave up the living for three thousand pounds. He poured himself a glass of water as he told her of how he came back three years later demanding the living, in a violent and desperate manner, which caused Darcy to drop all pretense of association. He stoked the already blazing fire as he described Wickham's return the previous summer and the incident at Ramsgate. During this time his speech never wavered; he spoke with candor and restrained energy. Elizabeth was greatly affected.

When he was finished he again sat down beside her and looked tenderly at her as her mind worked over this new information. She had long ago accepted Wickham's selfishness believing this one odious defect to be his reasons for separating himself from her. But to now learn that he was also deceptive and conniving only added to her shame. "How humiliating is this discovery!" she cried out, "Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my folly."

Confused, Darcy leaned toward. "'Had you been in love,' you did not love him then?"

"No! Of that I am certain," Elizabeth answered defensively, "I acted the part quite well, but my feelings for him were no greater than his were for me. I had received attentions from a man before, but he was different. He singled me out when there were others… he knew you and told me his pitiful tale… he looked at me so longingly… he…"

"In other words, he could have given his attentions to almost any girl in the village and yet he chose you, a woman who despised me, his enemy, and then convinced you that you were distinctive because of it. Yes, Miss Bennet, I know all too well Wickham's devices. He has done it before."

Elizabeth knew his words were true but to hear them spoken so clearly, in such a matter-of-fact manner by someone else, was a little difficult to bear. Still, his last statement intrigued her. "What exactly has he done before? He has been engaged before?"

"That I do not know. But he has, shall we say 'giving his attentions' to young ladies before solely for the purpose of tormenting me." Darcy looked away, his embarrassment keeping him from giving her any more comforting gazes.

Suspecting she knew what he meant, but not daring to presume, Elizabeth could only ask, "And in what way were you tormented?"

Darcy drew in a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes, then ran a hand over his face with the pretext of smoothing out his beard. "Throughout our acquaintance, Wickham has constantly sought to gain the favor of any young woman that I held in high esteem. Because of his agreeable and pleasant manner he most often succeeded in not only befriending his current pursuit but also in turning her against me. It is because of this that I find I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers. I cannot easily place my trust in others." He stopped, meaning for his discourse to be done, but when he looked up at her and saw the kindness in her face he added, "But I trust you explicitly."

Elizabeth was stunned, "You do? But why? How am I different from the others? I fell for his lies! I agreed to marry him! I even let him…" here she stopped, not wanting to speak of that day again. "I am not worthy of your trust. Please, sir, save it for someone more deserving."

"No." Darcy stood and walked over to her, and kneeling at her lap he took her hands in his. "I cannot do that."

She shook her head, "But…"

"Elizabeth," he interrupted, "I am not the type of man who can express himself as sensibly and as warmly as a man ought when in this situation. My life has been too busy, my thoughts too much absorbed with other things.(1.) Never before have I felt this way. Elizabeth, you must know. I love you, most ardently."(2.)

* * *

1. I couldn't help but picture poor Mr. Thornton trying to express himself. From _ North and South _ by Elizabeth Gaskell, ch. 24, appropriately titled, "Mistakes Cleared Up." If you haven't read it, you should. If you haven't seen the BBC movie then you need to stop what you're doing and go rent it/buy it now!

2. Ok, so I went with the P&P3 confession here instead of the one from the book, it seemed to flow well with this scene. Nice of me to cut it off there, huh?


	13. Chapter 13

A/n - Sorry I didn't get this up sooner, I've got lots of RL stuff going on. I'll do my best to have the next chapter up within a week. Thanks again to all the readers and reviewers! Oh, and you're going to find a few of Miss Austen's own words in this chapter, the first one will be quite obvious.

* * *

Chapter 13 

Day 16 continued

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed."

Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared down, colored, doubted, and was silent. She dared not look up at him in fear that her own equally fervent affection would be detectable in her eyes. She too was fraught with emotions that she thought best to never expose. But she had her reasons. What were his?

"Elizabeth?" He cleared his throat, which was parched from his quick, heavy breaths. "Miss Bennet?"

"You have struggled sir. In what way could you have struggled?" She tried to speak calmly, but her voice quivered slightly. Her eyes only rose as far as his chin.

His shock at hearing her question did not go unnoticed. His jaw clenched, his eyes darted around, and finally in a voice much less tender than before he answered, "I thought it rather obvious madam. I… love you, despite everything." He stood and began pacing in front of her. "Despite the expectations of my family and friends, despite the inferiority of your birth in comparison to my rank in society, despite _my_ own rational mind _insisting_ that I give up on any foolish notion of marrying you, I_ love_ you!"

"Yes, I can see you "struggled" quite arduously. Duality in one's own mind can never be easily excused." Her tongue was too quick, she instantly regretted her words.

"Duality, madam? That is hardly the case. You find great enjoyment in professing opinions which in fact are not your own. I can hardly believe that you could so completely misunderstand me. My feelings, however natural, were never questioned or disparage by my own person, analyzed perhaps, but never doubted. My concerns are with my relations. I have a duty to them, to my lineage, to the future of the Darcy name to seriously consider _all_ the ramifications of marrying any woman, no matter her station in life. It would not be prudent to simply express my desire to any woman that catches my eye and risk entrapping myself in a marriage with a person solely interested in me for my rank and wealth. Life and love has not and never will be that simple for me."

"So it is my own feelings that you question?" She knew not why she was being so defensive when she herself had mistrusted her own emotions time and again.

"And how could I not! You have given me very little to hope for. These past few weeks have been a grueling jumble of frustrating confusion and fleeting blissful moments of companionship. And it has only strengthened my regard!"

"Strengthened it? It is a wonder, sir, that you found the time to think on your regard, as your mind was so heavily occupied with thoughts of your "duty" and striving to pinpoint exactly what types of allurements I was using to ensnare you into my trap! How is it, sir, that you were able to overcome such toil and finally decide that I was worthy of your love?"

"Miss Bennet, if you continue to _insist_ on purposefully misunderstanding and misconstruing every sentence I utter then this conversation is quite doomed! I have _long_ since considered you more than worthy, even before I met you again aboard the _Jane_. Prior to then, it was my own foolishness that kept me from you, believing myself quite uncontrollable in your presence I sought to separate myself from you. You must understand I have _never_ felt this way before. These such… violent emotions had never come so naturally to me before. I knew not how to handle myself, I felt almost lost. Away from you these feelings subsided somewhat and I was able to convince myself that it was not love but only, forgive me, lust. But here, on this island, Sanguine as you call it, all admiration for you has come pouring back with full force, growing each day. I cannot imagine living my life without you."

His speech complete, Elizabeth now felt only more torn. She could not be insensible to the compliment of such a man's affection, yet she was still angry and shaken by his confessions and feared her next words would either fuel his obvious desire or send him away from her forever. She grappled with finding the right words that would do neither as she was not prepared to handle any such extremes. Again, she endeavored to speak calmly, "Might I suggest, Mr. Darcy, that you sit down?"

Darcy let out a deep sigh, his habit of scratching his face returning. "As you wish." He sat a few feet from her, a rather neutral position.

She continued, "Is it at all possible, sir, that your… fancy for me is as you suggested, only a passing notion? We have been in each other's company, solely each other's company, for over a fortnight now. Perhaps, once we are rescued and we are separated again you will realize your mistake and…"

"No."

"No? You will not even consider the theory?"

"No. I cannot. It is not possible. I love you Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I have loved you these long seven, eight months, I scarcely know when it started, I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun." He had leaned forward and again took her hands in his.

Tears were now welling in her eyes, she willed God to stop them from falling, she had grown tired of tears. "Sir, please, it is not possible. You are right to think of your family, you are right to question my feelings, you were right to separate yourself from me. I did not like you then, Wickham made sure of that! He made sure to destroy everything, every chance of happiness. You must understand that it cannot be. Not now, not after what he has done."

It suddenly all became clear to him. Her reluctance coupled with her encouragements had been all too baffling before and now it all made sense. Could Elizabeth Bennet, the strongest and most willful woman he had ever known (not counting his insufferable aunt) be insecure? His expression changed as he came to this realization. He now had a curious smile on his face, a knowing smile that served only to alarm its intended. Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably and removed her hands from his embrace.

"What is your intention with that look, sir? You mean to torment me?"

"Only slightly." He claimed her hands again, if only to emphasize his point. "Miss Bennet, I must ask you a question." Elizabeth's eyes widened, fearful of it being _that_ question. "Be not alarmed, it is nothing too serious. I merely wish to know. Do you care for me?"

If her distress was evident before, it was palpable now. "'Nothing too serious' you say! I bed to differ sir!"

"Nevertheless, I would like an answer."

She sat still and looked up at him with an endearing expression of annoyance. "In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed…"

"Miss Bennet," he interrupted, his devious smile even larger, "The question. Do you love me?"

Her chest tightened, her eyes fluttered as they vainly battled the tears now escaping from her eyes. Her lips parted as if to speak but she held back, unconsciously gripping his hand in hers. He placed his free hand at her cheek and gently brushed the tears away with his thumb, his smile no longer sly but kind. She met his gaze.

"I do." She quickly turned away, biting her lip fiercely.

"There. Was that so difficult?" His quip had the desired effect and she turned back to him, shooting him a stern look which only fueled his happiness.

"It was. It is. And it does not change anything."

Darcy inched closer and lowered his voice, "I do not like quarreling with you, madam, but I must disagree." Before she could respond, he placed his lips on hers, this time with more force and need but also with more confidence. Elizabeth could do little but comply and released his hand so her own could rest on his cheek. It did not last long as Darcy had meant to shock her but not distress her, and he brought both arms around her as he rose to sit beside her.

Elizabeth knew it was futile to pretend now and turned to him to bury her face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent and wiping away the remnants of her tears on his already heavily soiled shirt. Darcy pushed her hair from her face and neatly tucked it behind her ear, placing a few light kisses on her forehead. She reacted by firming her grip around his neck while Darcy, wishing to only be closer to her, reached forward and scooped up her legs, lifting and turning her before he effortlessly placed her on his lap.

"There," he whispered before wrapping his arms tightly around her slim waist and hugging her as if fearful she was about to be torn away from him. They sat like so for some time, neither releasing their hold on the other. Darcy's thoughts were of their future – of taking her to Pemberley, introducing her to Georgiana, their wedding. Elizabeth also deliberated on the future, but her thoughts were not so agreeably engaged. After some time she felt she could no longer be silent on the matter.

"Mr. Darcy?" She raised her head.

"Fitzwilliam." He smiled at her puzzled expression. "It is my name. Please, call me Fitzwilliam."

"As you wish. Fitzwilliam. I fear that you must have some… expectations after what has just occurred."

He smiled at the sound of his name on her lips. "Elizabeth, do not worry. I could never expect more from you than what you have already given me. Once we are rescued we can be married. You need not fret…"

"But that is what I am speaking of, marriage. You must know as well as I that we cannot be married."

Darcy eyes darkened but his sly smile returned. "I know nothing of the sort! Placing aside my affection for you and your recently uncovered devotion for me, once we are rescued it will be quite expected that we marry. Elizabeth, we have been living alone together on this island for sixteen days, society will think the worst, your reputation ruined. We must marry; I could not live with myself if it were any other way."

"My reputation! My reputation is already ruined!"

"Why? Because you were caught alone kissing a man who subsequently you became engaged to and then the braggart broke off the engagement because he is a selfish louse!"

"Yes!"

"That is no matter," he said in an indifferent voice, waving his hand dismissively in the air.

"How can you possibly say that? You yourself have said, not a half hour ago, that you must consider the effect on your family and your position in life before deciding on marriage. How can you now be so careless now?"

Darcy sighed, he knew she was correct in some respects but there were too many other factors to consider. "It is certainly not carelessness that drives my desire to marry you. Besides my regard for you, it is also a sense of responsibility. I could not abandon you, no matter the repercussions. Yes, perhaps my family would be upset with my choice once they learn of your past, but the Darcys and the Fitzwilliams have weathered worse storms. I would rather gain their respect by doing the right thing. And there are certainly women of the ton who have rumored to have done much worse than kiss a man and they still travel about posh society with the noses held high."

Elizabeth shook her head, "But those women have their family history and influence to force any critics to turn a blind's eye. I have nothing of that sort."

"But you will, if you marry me."

Elizabeth let out an audible breath, he shoulders fell slack and again she leaned into Darcy shoulder. All feelings of urgency and the need for answers vanished as he realized the exhaustion she must feel after such a day.

"Perhaps it would be best for you to rest now. We can speak of this tomorrow. I do not wish to distress you further today." He could feel her nod against his neck and he rose, bringing her the few steps to her side of the wall and to her bed. As he draped the blanket around her shoulders he leaned down and softly kissed her. She reached out and grabbed his hand as he turned to leave.

"Fitzwilliam?" He stopped and turned back to her. "I do love you, very much. More than you could ever know."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Day 17

When Darcy awoke the next morning he heard the unmistakable sound of a crackling fire and quickly arose to find Elizabeth smiling up at him from over a jug of steaming water. A delightful smell filled the air, a familiar aroma that Darcy had almost forgotten.

"Good morning, Miss Bennet. Is that… tea?" Darcy asked, not quite believing it.

Laughing lightly Elizabeth answered, "I believe so. Although I've made tea many times before, it was never in these conditions and never with so little ingredients. I will only venture so far as to call it 'tea-like' and would caution you not to think more of it." Reaching behind her for the glass she gestured toward the water jug. "Would you help pour it please? There are some rags there to protect your hands."

"Of course."

Once he held the hot glass in his hand, Darcy was able to examine the pale colored water. "May I ask, what is in it?" the trepidation unmistakable in his voice.

"Well, there is mint aplenty on this island, I am sure you could not miss it. I also used the seeds and pits of a few types of fruit. Unfortunately that is all. There is no Rosehip or tea leaves that I can see. I thought perhaps if I could not make 'tea' I might make something that reminds us of it. We have very little here that reminds us of home."

"I cannot agree with you there, madam," Darcy replied with the corners of his mouth turned slightly upward as he brought the glass to his lips, his eyes focused on hers. Elizabeth tried to keep her anticipation veiled behind feigned shock at his words but when he brought the glass down she could not restrain herself.

"Well?"

"It is very good. Perhaps not very strong, but much better than plain water. I am very happy for the change, thank you for this. Have you had some?"

"Yes I have. I had to test it to make sure it was not poisonous."

"Ah! How very gallant of you! And what should you have done if it was?"

Her lips pressed in an impertinent smile, Elizabeth turned her head slightly to the side before answering, "Why, I would have surely died of course!"

"It would have been a pity, I think, to have to bury you. I am not fond of digging holes. I dug that trench there for your wall and I was quite fatigued after that. And of course, there would be that matter of me being all alone and missing you. All that pain and toil for the sake of tea, it is a wonder you took the risk." Darcy was sitting next to her now, watching her reaction and waiting patiently to change the subject

"I'm an Englishwoman. It is universally acknowledged that one's tea defines your character. Therefore I must endeavor to improve upon what I have begun this morning, no matter the risk to your state of sorrow. I will _not_ be known for serving weak tea."

"May I say, Elizabeth, that the strength of your tea reflects nothing on your character, but your determination for its creation does. I cannot help but admire you for your efforts."

"Thank you sir… Fitzwilliam. Perhaps it will be better by afternoon tea."

"And what shall we have with it, scones and cakes?

"Oh no sir, a much lighter fare must be had in the afternoon. This evening, though, we will have tea served with slow-roasted crab, served warm, over a skillfully aged biscuit from our best stock, of course. We will also have expertly carved fruit grown on the premises, nothing but the freshest ingredients shall be eaten. And for dessert, more tea!"

"Sounds delightful! I cannot imagine getting through the day with thoughts of such a feast on my mind. We must put all our efforts into thinking of other things."

After such an exchange the awkward silence that followed was thick with questions and exclamations left unsaid. Elizabeth, deciding that although she had insecurities about the match she could not hide her emotions any longer, reached out she took the hand now free from holding the glass. It was still warm and she held it to her face.

"You have been good to not press me this morning. After all that has occurred it has been pleasant to not think or talk it about it, if even for a few moments. You truly are a gentleman."

"You must know that despite my feelings on the matter, I would never force you to do something that you were wholeheartedly against. But on the topic of marriage, I do not believe that you are."

"How is that so? I have made my sentiments on that matter known."

"You have, but not in entirety. You claim to love me, which produced an effect that words cannot describe, yet you will not end my agony and agree to be my wife. You can see where I have the trouble."

"Yes, but _surely_ you can see that marriage would be impossible, need we discuss it again."

"Again and again, until we understand each other, or until we are married. I have an inclination that the latter is the more likely of the two."

Elizabeth sighed, partly out of exasperation and partly out of fear. She knew her argument appeared weak, weaker than her tea, and knew not how she would keep her resolve. She was beginning to wonder if she should.

"Very well. I, though I love you, cannot marry you. I will only bring disgrace to your family, which I know is something you abhor, and I refuse to bring you pain in that way."

"So you are determined to force it upon me in another way, wishing me to live my life without you. I have already had enough practice with that, and I failed miserably. I believe I quite excel at living with you, you must allow me to continue improving my proficiency."

"Fitzwilliam, please, do not jest. I must make you understand." Elizabeth released her hands from his and clasped them together at her lap, examining them intently. "When I imagine life with you I briefly envision our happiness, but it is immediately clouded by visions of family rifts accompanied by disapproving stares, lonely holidays and, most clearly, a disappointed husband. I do not wish that life for you, and certainly not for myself."

"And when did you become so sure that my family would react this way. You have little faith in my relations, and might I add, me."

"No, it is _I_ that I have little faith in! How can I, a fallen woman in the eyes of many, be wife to a Darcy?"

"'Fallen woman?' Elizabeth, you kissed a man! As much as it pains me to think of it and with whom it occurred, it does not signify a total loss of virtue. If I can see that, why cannot you?"

Elizabeth stood, the soreness in her feet subsided but not completely healed, and hobbled to the entrance of the tent before turning back, "Because he did not merely kiss me! He… touched me in places I was not expecting and made me feel… impure. Then he promised me things he never intended to give me. He left me!"

Darcy quickly stood and rushed to her side, wrapping his arms around her and bringing his hand back to her cheek. After a moment of looking into her eyes he softly brought his lips to hers and with all his strength tried to convey his love in the simplicity of a kiss. Afterwards, he rested his forehead against hers and whispered, "There. Does that make you feel impure?"

She lightly shook her head back and forth and he kissed her again, driving forth his point.

"I love you and I will never leave you, I can promise you that and can only hope that you will trust me. Can you trust me?"

Elizabeth hesitated, not out of uncertainty but because of the strength of her conviction. "Yes. Entirely. More than I trust myself I am afraid."

Darcy swallowed and took a step backwards, holding her at arms length. "Then, please, I beg of you, end my misery. Make me the happiest man on Sanguine Island. Marry me, be my wife. Escape with me from this wretched island to Pemberley and live with me there till the end of our days. I have faith in you, Elizabeth, and my family will see that and they will grow to love you too, Georgiana especially. Please, Elizabeth, you have already forced me to beg and I stand before you a vulnerable man…"

Elizabeth watched as he spoke in desperate tones, the haughty Mr. Darcy lowering himself to a beggar for her benefit, and suddenly she knew what she had to say, "Yes."

Darcy's expression cleared, he was momentarily stunned. "Yes? 'Yes, I will marry you' or 'Yes, you are a vulnerable man'?"

Elizabeth smiled, a smile Darcy was not sure he had seen since he last saw her in Hertfordshire. "Both, I believe. Well, at least the first part. The second has yet to be determined, though I have long since suspected it to be true."

Darcy reeled forward, crashing his body into hers and lifting her into the air, spinning her around twice fully and once partly before placing down on the ground and claiming her lips again. Elizabeth could not help but laugh at such a display.

"Laugh at me all you wish, Elizabeth, for I care not. You have made me the happiest of men."

"I am glad of it sir, although it was not my intention. My aim was more selfish I am afraid, for I wished to only make myself the happiest of women!"

"That, I can assure you madam, will be my life's ambition."

"And such a noble cause. You are all kindness, indeed."

"By your influence, no doubt!"

"By your own merit, I am sure."

"No, Elizabeth, it is only because you compel me to endeavor to be the best of men."

"There is no need for such efforts, Fitzwilliam, you are already."

He took her hand and kissed it gently, "_You_, my Elizabeth, are all sweetness." After several moments of delicious silence (1.) he felt the call of hunger and beckoned her towards the beach to watch him catch their breakfast. The walk to the shore took much longer than ever before, partially because of the soreness of Elizabeth's feet but mostly because of the countless pauses accompanied by sounds of laughter and words of love. Before they reached the shore he turned to her to again smile and perhaps claim a kiss but was met with an expression of alarm.

"Elizabeth what is it? Is it your feet? I am sorry, I should have carried you…"

"It is a ship."

* * *

1. I stole this phrase from Elizabeth Gaskell, from the end of N&S, ch. 27. I always felt like it had so many "delicious" meanings!

A/n – So sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, there have been a few unfortunate happenings in my life and although I was not busy per se, I was not feeling very inclined to think of happy things, therefore this story became neglected. When I did decide to turn my attention to it I realized that I have come to a crossroad. When I made the original outline for this story I wanted it to begin and end with the island, therefore I had no intentions of continuing it once they were rescued. After all the interest (still can't believe I have over 200 reviews!) I have since rethought my outline and decided to continue the story much longer than I ever originally thought. For those of you who are enjoying this story I am sure this is good news, but for the author it means a commitment I had not accounted for beyond this summer. Therefore, I must ask of you to be patient with me as I figure out exactly where this story is going. You have all been so kind thus far and as we head into uncharted territory I hope your interest does not wane. Thank you!


	15. Chapter 15

A/n – Sorry this chapter is a little short, but the next one appears to be much longer to make up for it.

* * *

Chapter 15

Day 17 continued

"A ship!" Darcy exclaimed and quickly turned himself around and followed the direction of Elizabeth's eyes. "Good God, you are right." Just as swiftly as he had turned before, he faced himself back towards Elizabeth and grabbing her hand made his way towards the shelter. "Come quickly!"

"But… we are saved!" Darcy did not answer her but only continued pulling on her hand until they reached the tent. "Fitzwilliam! What are you doing?"

"We must get our things together. Here," he handed her the leather satchel, "Fill it with whatever you wish to bring, food, clothing, only what is most important. I will ready the rifle and the pistol."

Elizabeth stood motionless, the empty bag loosely hanging in her grip. "Whatever for?"

"Elizabeth, please, we discussed this weeks ago. We do not know who they are. They could be American Privateers. If that is the case we must move quickly. We can make for the cave and hope that they will not search for us, although this shelter will be proof enough of our existence."

"And if they are not? What if they are British, should we not try and gain their attention? What if they do not come ashore? We could miss our chance of rescue!"

"None of it is certain. The ship is too far out to see its colors. We must prepare for the worst while we still have the advantage of time." Darcy reached into one of the crates and pulled out of pair of boots. "Put these on. They are not as large as mine, but I dare say they will surely not fit. Still, they will protect your feet. I'm going to the waterfall to climb the hill there and discover what I can about our new visitors. Do not leave the shelter, you cannot be seen. Try and get as much together as you can. I trust your judgment as to what you see fit to bring."

"Well, it is heartening to know you trust me there!" cried Elizabeth in an irritated tone.

Darcy took several steps towards her and paused for a moment as he studied her face, then he took her hands in his. "Elizabeth, please understand my caution. We have overcome so much thus far and if I were to fail you now I could not bear to live. It will not harm us to be vigilant. The ship is moving towards the island, it cannot but mean to come close to shore. Before then, I shall be able to see its colors and know whether we are to walk to the shore or run to the cave."

Elizabeth stared back at him, her eyes narrowed and her lips curled into her mouth as she bit down on them while contemplating his words. "And you will come back straight away, as soon as you are able to see?"

"Yes of course."

"Very well then."

"Thank you," he said breathlessly, and quickly leaned forward to claim a kiss before running to the waterfall.

* * *

"Captain Huskisson, sir."

"Yes Warwick, what is it?" replied the young Captain without even looking up from his map.

"We shall be making anchor soon, Captain. The men are anxious to know who will be allowed to shore, sir."

"Very well, tell them I will be on deck in a moment." Folding his maps, Huskisson buttoned his coat and placed his hat atop his neatly combed auburn hair and headed for the top deck. Before him stood a crowd of eager sailors, many obviously ready for adventure. Standing above them, with his hands firmly clasped behind his back, he addressed his men. "Twenty men will go ashore and gather whatever supplies they deem appropriate for the taking, be it water, fruit or meat. We do not have time to linger as we are expected in Halifax in a number of days." He paused to allow his commands to be understood. "That being said, I also expect a full report on the size of the landmass, as well as any commodities or inhabitants, human or otherwise, on that island. This will take some time, the whole day perhaps, but I require you return by dusk."

Turning to his Lieutenant, he spoke in a quieter yet equally firm manner. "Choose the twenty most responsible men and separate them as you see fit."

"Of course, Captain." Huskisson watched as Warwick began to order the men into the boats. The island needed to be explored and notes on its details needed to be taken, but that was not his sole purpose for allowing his men to journey to shore. Although a firm leader, Huskisson was also a compassionate one and he knew when his men needed time for recreation.

"Oh, and Warwick" he called out just before they made to leave. "We are hardly in need of supplies; therefore I do not expect excess cargo to be brought onto this ship."

* * *

As Darcy reached the waterfall he was surprised by his sudden fatigue and thirst. Before he climbed the hill, he took a long drink from the pool and splashed the cool water on his face and head. He filled the jug he had carried with him and left it by the water's edge. He could hear his heart pounding wildly in his chest as he climbed, silently praying the only flag he would see would be the familiar Union Jack. Positioning himself between the trees, he fixed his eyes on the ship, barely visible through the leaves and branches before him. The ship had yet to turn, thereby making it very difficult to identify anything of significance. From the angle he was positioned, the unfurled sails blocked any view of a waving flag and Darcy impatiently cursed under his breath as he anxiously watched for any sign of color besides the sun bleached white of the canvas.

Not ten minutes later the yellow and black painted side of the hull came into view and Darcy held his breath as the unmistakable flag waved in his line of sight. Less than a minute later, he was running down the hill, barely making time to grasp the water jug as he went by.

Elizabeth was wrapping their lone water glass in a rag and preparing to place it inside the satchel when Darcy came running into the tent. Their eyes met and Elizabeth's heart nearly leapt into her throat when she observed the expression on his face.

"We are doomed then?"

Without warning, a calm yet joyful smile crept across Darcy's face. "No, indeed we are saved!" Elizabeth dropped the glass and it landed with a _thump_ on the ground near her feet just as she reached Darcy's arms in an embrace.

"Saved. I can hardly believe it! But you are sly; your look gave me to believe quite the opposite." Her head stayed pressed at his chest, tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes as she desperately tried to hide any sign of such a silly reaction to his overwhelming news.

Darcy laughed and cupped his fiancé's face in his hands. "I am sorry for that. I was a bit overwhelmed with the knowledge and the sprint from the waterfall with that heavy jug left me a little breathless. I did not mean to alarm you." He kissed her greedily, thinking it the most excellent way to apologize. "Come, we must hurry to shore and procured our passage home." Grabbing her hand more gently than he had before, he led her to the beach. She insisting on walking and not being carried.

When their boots touched sand they saw that they were to be joined on the beach sooner than expected as there were three boats filled with sailors already moving towards them.

"Do you think they saw us before?" asked Elizabeth, surprised at the sight before her. She felt slightly unnerved at the thought of meeting these men, having not seen or spoken to anyone other than Darcy for many a days.

"I highly doubt it. We were on the beach but a moment and at that distance I hardly believe we were visible. Perhaps they are in need of food or water."

"If that is the case then I wish I had spent my time preparing for company for tea rather than packing our things. Shall I go now?" She smiled impertinently as she spoke.

"I think _not_. It is my hope that we will be the ones asked to tea this afternoon."

"Well, it is a good thing I am wearing my best half-dress, otherwise I would be quite ashamed to be received. Although I am not sure my footwear quite matches, what is your opinion?" She lifted the skirt of her dress up slightly to reveal the ungainly sight of her feet.

Darcy looked down at the large, black, man's boots below the hem of her dress and once again allowed himself to laugh at Elizabeth's wit. "Madam, I do not believe they fit. Perhaps we could procure you a larger size from one of the sailors. One may be persuaded into a trade."

"Larger size indeed! I will look like a duck if my shoes were any larger."

"We cannot have that, can we? Well, I suppose you shall have to go without footwear and I will have to carry you until we can find our way to a cobbler."

Elizabeth colored and meant to look away but instead turned her head back towards him and with one eyebrow raised said, "I cannot argue with your plan, sir."

"Yes, it is a very good plan, I believe." With one arm wrapped around her and the other securely wound within the fingers of one of her delicate hands, Darcy lightly kissed her temple before joining her in a silent watch of the sailors' advance.

* * *

A/n – Just so my readers know, I know very little about the Royal Navy, but I did do a little research about ships in that area around the War of 1812 and it was common for British ships to travel between Bermuda and Halifax and many were sent to scout out islands along the American coast as means of discovering bases of operation during the war. Captain Thomas Huskisson was a real person and brother to William Huskisson, Member of Parliament in the early 19th century and the first man killed by locomotive in 1830. I couldn't find much about him, but _my_ Captain Huskisson looks an awful lot like Damian Lewis as the week I wrote this both _Much Ado About Nothing_ and _Band of Brothers_ was on and my Damian Lewis crush came back in full force. Therefore if he reminds you a lot of DL's Major Winters, then that would be why. 


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Day 17 continued

"Lieutenant Benjamin Warwick" said the tan, gruff man standing before them, "Of His Majesties Royal Navy."

As soon as the sailors' boats had touched shore, Darcy demeanor changed. He became slightly tense and stiffened his back with his hands clenched once again behind his back. This caused Elizabeth to feel slightly anxious as well and she almost turned to him to ask what the cause of his uneasiness was when she realized that he was only responding exactly as he always did when in the company of strangers. She smiled slightly at his formal ways and spent a quick moment imagining her life trying to persuade her future husband not to be so proper all the time. She pushed those happy thoughts from her mind as she watched the subject of her reverie hold out his hand to the man before them and address him.

"Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire," he said in a flat tone, "And may I present Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, Hertfordshire."

Elizabeth curtsied graciously. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. In fact, I will be so bold as to say it is a miracle!"

Warwick appeared indifferent. "A miracle, Miss Bennet, I am not. I am here under the orders of Captain Huskisson. We have been sent ashore in order to investigate this island, but we were perfectly unaware of any British inhabitance. May I ask how long you have been here?"

"Seventeen days," replied Darcy, matching Warwick's impassive tone.

"And how did you come to be here?"

"Our ship was lost in a violent storm on route to Canada. Miss Bennet and I were able to survive aboard the small rowboat you see there, which brought us to this island."

"I see. And where there no other survivors?" As he spoke, Warwick's eyes darted to meet Elizabeth's with a suspicious glare. At this, Elizabeth felt the need to respond.

"None, sir. At least, none that we know of." Warwick reacted with a slight frown. "And you sir, where is your ship headed?"

Warwick paused, which created an uncomfortably long silence before he answered. "To Halifax, madam."

Darcy was significantly agitated by his tone, but he did not wish to quarrel with the man who would be responsible for their rescue. "And from there one may find passage back to England?"

"Yes, one could."

"And you could provide us with passage to Halifax?" Darcy's words were slightly quicker than before, his teeth clenching behind his pursed lips after he spoke.

"That is entirely at the discretion of my captain."

Elizabeth was appalled at his answer and stepped forward. "Sir, surely you cannot mean to leave us here! We have been marooned on his island for several weeks with no hope of rescue and when it does come it does not mean to rescue us at all! Are we to be trapped on this island for all eternity simply because helping us was not included in your orders? Are all members of the Royal Navy so heartless?"

Darcy was swiftly at her side, one hand gently grasping her wrist. "Elizabeth, please, I will handle this. Sir, I demand to speak with your captain!"

Warwick eyed them both; the raising of his eyebrows being the only indication he heard what either of them had said. His men were standing behind him now, all very curious to watch the scene. "Very well. But I will not force my men to make an unnecessary trip back to the ship. Therefore you will have to wait several hours until our duties here are complete."

"And until then?" asked Darcy.

"Until then my men and I have work to do and we are wasting precious time standing here idly conversing.

Elizabeth watched with a creased brow as Warwick began to order the men lined up on the shore to perform various tasks. As they began to move in numerous directions she stepped around the hard-faced officer with an equally rigid expression on her face. Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth allowed a forced but nonetheless sweet smile to soften her appearance as she addressed him.

"Mr. Warwick…"

"_Lieutenant_ Warwick, madam."

Behind her pleasant smile Elizabeth hid a furious scowl. "Of course, I apologize. _Lieutenant_ Warwick, I believe we can be of some assistance to you. You see, Mr. Darcy and I have been living on this island for several weeks and we know the lay of the land quite well. Perhaps if you have any questions about the island we may be able to answer them for you. For instance…"

"Miss Bennet, your _assistance_ will not be necessary. My men and I are quite capable of doing our duties without the help of a woman and a gentleman from the _country_. I have been an officer in the Royal Navy for quite some time and…"

"That will be quite enough of your insults Lieutenant!" Darcy was very close to loosing his temper and he was standing very close to Warwick. Being several inches taller than him, Darcy posed an arresting sight peering down on the officer. Warwick appeared unmoved.

"I suggest, Mr. Darcy, that you take a few steps back."

Darcy remained still for several moments, his eyes not even blinking. "I will not! Not until you apologize to Miss Bennet."

Again the men stood silent and immobile, eyes fixed on each other, both defiant and stubborn. Finally, Warwick drew in a deep breath through the narrow nostrils of his long, bony nose and spoke in a clear, flippant tone. Without turning to Elizabeth he said, "I apologize for my remarks, Miss Bennet."

"Thank you, sir," replied Elizabeth, quite frightened and annoyed at the behavior of both men. The last thing she wished was for Darcy to hurt himself quarreling with a man that was suppose to be saving them. They were still locked in an obstinate, juvenile stare when she cleared her throat and placed a hand on Darcy's arm. "Please, Fitzwilliam, we should get out of the men's way. Perhaps we should gather our things together and ready ourselves for the trip."

Her touch produced the desired effect and Darcy's turned to her, placed a hand over hers and nodded in agreement. "Very well."

* * *

Elizabeth sat somberly on her usual wooden crate as she watched Darcy gruffly sort through their belongings and throw curious items into a pile near her feet. There was a pair of black trousers that appeared meant to fit a boy, the razor she had used to shave him, the rifle that had never been used, a curious novel that Elizabeth read when she was twelve, and an assortment of other seemingly unessential items. Elizabeth leaned forward to retrieve the book and leisurely flipped through the pages.

"Why Mr. Darcy, I would never have guessed a man of your nature would be so fond of romantic novels. I shall have to share this knowledge with my sister Kitty, as she has a large collection of them and she may be persuaded to let you borrow whatever you wish."

Darcy was still looking through the crates and was too busy to take full notice of her meaning. "To what are you referring?"

"Well, only the first volume of _The Italian_ by Mrs. Radcliffe seems to be here, perhaps is it the second and third volumes that you are so anxiously searching for?"(1)

Darcy paused momentarily in his work to think over her words and then continued by lifted a crate down to the ground while answering, "I think not."

"Then, my dear sir, what could be your reasoning for wanting to carry such a novel with you all the way across the ocean back to England?"

Pausing his business again, Darcy turned to Elizabeth and shaking his head smiled warmly at her. "You must think me quite a fool." He sat down beside her and took the book from her hands.

"Oh no, not a fool. A supercilious ninny perhaps, for if you would only admit your love for romantic novels…"

"No, no," he interrupted, "I do not care about the book; I am speaking of my behavior at the beach." Elizabeth smiled at him knowingly. "I apologize if I appeared irrational. My temper, as I have told you before, is too little yielding. How offensive he was to you!"

"And to you. It is my hope that you will be able to forget this offense, although I know it will be difficult for you."

"Not so, with you to guide me." He gently slid his fingers through hers and placed a light kiss on the back of her hand.

"We have a long journey ahead of us still, Fitzwilliam, and I would like us to travel on good terms with our fellow shipmates. Perhaps Lieutenant Warwick will not so easily be called a friend, but we must strive to make him a respected acquaintance."

"You speak wisely, as usual."

Elizabeth smiled and allowed the pleasing sound of her laughter to fill the tent. "'As usual' you say! Well, I must store this compliment in my mind for future arguments."

"You have little faith in our future harmony."

"Oh no, I only recall too many of our conversations at Netherfield, although I felt much differently for you then."

"Did you? I was quite convinced you were as enamored with me as I was with you. I even briefly believed you had come to Netherfield to be near me under the pretext of caring for your sister. It was an arrogant assumption, one I scorned myself for once I realized your true opinion of me."

"And when did you make that discovery?"

"Well I _thought_ I had made it quite a few times, only to be proven wrong time and again. I believed you cared for me or at the very least were interested in me during my entire stay in Hertfordshire. I disregarded this notion not very long after we met again and believed you thoroughly despised me within the first few days of our stay here on the island. I cannot say the exact moment when I realized that you no longer held me in contempt; the confirmation most certainly came from your lack of verbal declaration of your supposed hatred. I knew you well enough to suppose that if you did not like me then you would undoubtedly tell me."

"You are quite right about that, but it seems it is the only instance you guessed correctly about my feelings. I did not care for you in Hertfordshire, at least that is what I kept telling myself. I have since reflected on that time and can say without reserve that I was a prejudice fool. It appeared that you did not care for me, which the knowledge of only fueled my interest in you, no matter how much I tried to pretend it did not. I knowingly acted impertinent when in your company, but it seems that incivility proved to be the very essence of love. I did not despise you when we met again, it was only my shame that affected my behavior towards you. I had lately come to accept you as a worthy, respectable man to whom my own feelings could not be judged. This vexed me so. I wanted to hate you, I believed it would be easier to hate you, but the more I tried the more I found myself loving you. It was quite a struggle to admit to myself and much more so to admit to you. And there you have it, the tragic tale of Elizabeth Bennet, her own worst enemy."

"Not _so_ tragic. Her story has a happy ending, does it not?"

"One can only hope."

* * *

1. Ann Radcliffe's _The Italian_ was first published in 1797. Amazon's description: "The haughty, manipulative Marchesa, determined to thwart the romance between her son, the young Neapolitan nobleman Vincentio di Vivaldi, and Elena di Rosalba, has enlisted the help of the villainous, scheming monk, Schedoni. With a livid paleness of face and a melancholy eye, whose brooding presence dominates the novel, Schedoni has become an archetype of Romantic literature. Set in the mid-eighteenth century against the dramatic, lush backdrop of the Bay of Naples, _The_ _Italian_ is a tale of passion, deceit, abduction, and the horrors of the Inquisition." 


	17. Chapter 17

A/n - I decided to post two chapters at once since this one is rather short. Ch. 16 and 17 could have been 3 short chapters or 1 long and 1 short and I went with the latter just because. It's sort of a transitional chapter and therefore I thought I'd get it in before I left, marks the end of Part 1 of our story. I'll be gone for a few weeks, off to the other side of the country, and won't have much free time so no posting for at least 2 weeks I'm afraid.

Chapter 17

Day 17 continued

A cool breeze sent a shiver down the back of Elizabeth's neck as she delicately folded the last bit of clothing she meant to take with her. She did not have much as they were able to find much more men's clothing than women's when they first sorted through the wreckage. She placed the last of her limited belongings on top of the blanket that had kept her warm all those nights, folded the ends on top, and secured the bundle with a short piece of rope. She could hear Darcy on the other side of the wall doing the same and spoke to him while trying to catch a glimpse of his figure through the wooden rods.

"Are you ready, sir? The sun is almost ready to retire; I suspect we will be leaving soon." She squinted as she peered through the thin slit between the wood, but her efforts were in vain. Suddenly a deep voice came from her side and shook the embarrassment into her face.

"What are you looking for, Elizabeth?" There was a knowing smile on Darcy's face as his lofty form stood over her.

Turning quickly on her crate, Elizabeth pushed a stray hair from her face and began to finger the rope on her bundle in an attempt to appear engaged in an activity nothing like spying on him. Darcy was not fooled and his smile only widened. "Nothing! I am finished packing my belongings, few as they are. I am prepared to leave."

"So I see." His smile softened as he reached out his hand to assist her to her feet. "I thought perhaps you would like to accompany me to the waterfall one last time."

"Oh?" At the mention of the waterfall, Elizabeth's disposition turned melancholy. "That would be lovely, Mr. Dar… Fitzwilliam." She laughed lightly at herself. "You must allow me more time to get used to using your Christian name."

"Yes, about that. I think perhaps under the circumstances, we should address each other more formally now that we will be in the company of others." He held out his arm for her to lean on as they slowly made their way out of the shelter.

"Yes, of course, you are undoubtedly correct," she responded, and remained quite for the rest of their short walk.

When they reached the waterfall, Darcy brought her to its side and they both sat on twin rocks in companionable silence. Elizabeth closed her eyes and slowly inhaled the damp, clean air in an attempt to commit the aroma to memory. Darcy watched her in fascination and tenderly pressed her hand in his own before doing the same.

After several moments, Elizabeth spoke in a quite tone, "Fitzwilliam, I have been thinking of when we return to England and… and when I return to Longbourn. I am not sure if…"

"Miss Bennet, Mr. Darcy," said a stern voice from the wood behind them. Lieutenant Warwick emerged into the clearing near the waterfall with three of his men behind him, each carrying a barrel. He turned to his men, further ignoring the couple on the rocks, "Fill them here. Scott, Gates, and Mansfield will be here shortly to assist you in carrying them back. I expect all the barrels to be full and in the boats in a half an hour." His men responded accordingly and swiftly began their task.

Elizabeth and Darcy stood in order to removed themselves from the area now that it was no longer the tranquil setting they enjoyed. Darcy turned to speak to Warwick only to find him already gone. "That man wastes no time."

"Lieutenant Warwick is very efficient, sir," said one of the men in a mocking tone. Elizabeth smiled at the sailor, but Darcy did not wish to encourage insolence in subordinates and quickly led Elizabeth in the direction of the shelter.

When they reached their tent they found Warwick standing in the middle of it, holding the first volume of _The Italian_ open in his hand and smirking. When he saw Elizabeth and Darcy coming towards him, he quickly snapped the book closed and tossed it onto the crate on which he found it. Elizabeth watched his reaction with some interest and thought for just a moment that perhaps Lieutenant Warwick did in fact have a personality.

He addressed them almost immediately, "I have instructed my men to carrying some of the items from the wreckage back to the boats. Not much of it is useful, but some of it will be of import. When they return, you may indicate which items you plan to take with you and they will remove them as well. Do you have any further questions?"

Wishing to be rid of the man, Darcy was about to respond in the negative when Elizabeth's voice spoke beside him, "Yes, sir, are you implying then that we are indeed to be removed from the island? You seemed to suggest before that may not be the case."

Warwick stared at Elizabeth with an unreadable expression. If pressed, Elizabeth might say it could have very well been a look of amusement just as well as it may have been contempt. "Yes, Miss Bennet, you are correct. It is not my decision as to whether or not you will be traveling to Halifax aboard the _Barbados_, it is my captain's. It is always best to be prepared in any case." With that, he bowed and took his leave.

"I know not what to make of him," said Elizabeth, turning to Darcy.

"I do."

* * *

After all of their belongings had been secured in the boats, Elizabeth and Darcy stood on the shore, arms linked, looking about themselves in an attempt to say goodbye to every tree and every crab. Elizabeth looked to be on the verge of tears, and Darcy was reliving each and every tender moment he had with the woman he loved on their own private island. There was such a drastic change in his feelings toward the small area of land that he previously loathed. He no longer felt indifferent to its meaning in his life. It was where he and Elizabeth truly became friends and lovers. Forever and always will it be their island. 


	18. Chapter 18

A/n - I've caught up with my writing, which means it's going to be a while between story posts from now on, maybe a few weeks. I'll do the best I can. Check my LJ (link in my profile) for a picture of the _Barbados_.

Chapter 18

Day 18

Standing on the port side of the _Barbados_, Elizabeth watched with sorrow as the shore of Sanguine Island slowly drew further and further away. She could barely make out the small clearing in the trees that led to their former dwelling and as the ship sailed on a tightness in her chest threatened to evoke more tears. The sun was now fully awake and shone mercilessly in her eyes as she turned away from the distressing scene in an attempt to gather her wits. A dark figure appeared from her side, stepping in front of the harsh rays and saving her from blindness. It was not the person she wanted or needed to see at that moment.

"Miss Bennet," said Warwick in a rather flippant tone, "The men are trying to do their duties to their captain and seemingly to _you_ by rising early and swiftly bringing this ship to full sail. Perhaps you would be so _kind_ as to remove yourself to the poop deck or even your own cabin where you will surely be out of the men's way."(1)

Elizabeth turned away from Lieutenant as he spoke, fully aware of his resentfully feelings towards her but not in the frame of mind to call him on it. Instead she bowed her head slightly and excused herself to the captain's cabin where she had slept the night before.

* * *

When Elizabeth and Darcy arrived on board the _Barbados_ the evening before, they were surprised and relieved to meet Captain Huskisson, an amiable, respectable man who was even more astonished to meet them. He quickly took command of the situation and assured the pair a safe journey to Halifax. Elizabeth was offered the use of his cabin, the grand cabin, while he removed himself to the smaller cabin occupied by Warwick who was thus forced, to his great displeasure, to reside in the berth with the rest of the men.(2) Darcy was offered a shared space in the captain's new quarters, which he declined to everyone's amazement and immediately settled his things in the berth deck as well. After they declared themselves more than comfortable, Huskisson invited them to a small feast where they shared their story over roasted chicken, seasoned potatoes and eventually real tea, which filled Elizabeth with much joy and hope.

Although their fate now seemed decided and all felt it would be well, neither Elizabeth nor Darcy slept well that night. Having both become quite accustomed to sleeping on wooden crates in close proximity, they found it difficult rest without the sound of the other nearby. Darcy even considered going topsides and visiting Elizabeth in the night, to at least assure himself of her comfort and safety. He thought better of it though, not wanting to disturb her or create anymore questions of her virtue among the men.

The next morning, he awoke to the sounds of the sailors running about the upper deck, yelling "_Heave…heave…heave_," and he quickly dressed and set out to find Elizabeth. She was not where he supposed her to be, on the upper deck watching their island fade away, and he made his way around the men and into the poop to find her. Instead he found the captain eating his breakfast and looking over some paperwork.

"Good morning, Captain Huskisson," he said as he entered, the weariness in his voice unmistakable.

"Good morning to you, Mr. Darcy. I trust you did not sleep well. It will take some time getting used to a hammock I am afraid."

"Not at all, it was not the hammock that kept me awake through the night."

Huskisson raised his eyebrows but asked Darcy no more on the subject. "Please sit and enjoy some breakfast, but do pardon me if I seem distracted, I have much paperwork to consider before arriving at our destination."

"Yes, of course, do not let me disturb your work." Darcy ate in silence, wondering when Elizabeth would join them. Several moments later they heard footsteps approaching and Darcy's heart sank as he determined them to be too heavy to be Elizabeth's. Lieutenant Warwick then entered the room and quickly briefed the captain on the state of their journey and then exited as swiftly as he appeared, nearly knocking Elizabeth to her feet as she approached to enter.

As she sat down to join the gentlemen after greeting them both, Huskisson began to explain the situation onboard. "I find I must apologize for my lieutenant's behavior. Warwick is an excellent officer, very reliable and certainly capable of leading his men. Unfortunately, he is a Navy man, raised by a Navy man, born and bred to do only one thing and it greatly affects his demeanor towards those _not_ in the Navy, specifically ladies. He is not, shall we say, accustomed to their presence and therefore reacts very harshly to them. You must be aware, Miss Bennet, that there are several in His Majesties Royal Navy and even aboard this ship that do not take kindly to ladies traveling with us. They either have a moral standpoint against it, or are rather fearful of the supposed 'bad luck' it may cause. I assure you that I will do my best not to let this affect your journey with us, as it is certainly not your doing that you are here, but only fate."

Elizabeth could not help but smile at his kindly meant words and was pressed to ask, "And you sir, what is your feelings on the matter?"

He laughed, "I must confess to feeling quite the same as those men in my younger days, but that was well before I met Mrs. Huskisson who set me right in thinking. I assure you, Miss Bennet, that Emele's presence was certainly not bad luck when she was onboard."

"Where does she reside now, does she not enjoy traveling with you."

"Oh to be sure she did, but only during peaceful times, which these are not. We have let a home in Halifax for the time being where she lives now with our daughter Clara, who will turn three in several days."

"And I am sure you are a very devoted father and saw fit to bring her an excellent gift."

"Of course! Seeing as she is as French as she is English, I have brought her a handmade French doll. Her mother will be proud of me, I hope."

"I dare say she will!"

"You will meet them both, if you wish. I would like to offer you, both you and Mr. Darcy, an invitation to stay with us at our home. I understand that after an adventure such as yours that you may not have fixed plans in Halifax."

Elizabeth turned to Darcy, who quickly put down his cup and wiped his mouth with his napkin before answering. "I thank you kindly for the offer, Captain Huskisson, but I do in fact have an associate in Halifax that I am keen to meet with and had planned to stay at his residence when I made my original plans. But Miss Bennet would perhaps accept your offer, unless you too have other plans," he finished, looking at her.

Elizabeth was confused at his response but answered in the negative and the arrangement was set before Huskisson rose to attend to ship business. After he left, Elizabeth and Darcy quietly finished their meal and decided to take a stroll along the upper deck, taking care to stay out of the men's way.

As they walked and Elizabeth ascertained that there was no one in the immediate vicinity, she turned to Darcy and asked, "Mr. Darcy, I was not aware that you had made plans for our arrival in Halifax."

"I always had plans, Miss Bennet, I did travel across the ocean for a purpose, even if I was most excellently diverted." He smiled down at her in a reassuring way. "I see that you question my choice, wondering why I choose to remove myself from your presence, am I correct?" She nodded with a slight smile in one corner of her mouth. "It is not because I wish to be distant from you, Elizabeth," he said in a whisper, "Quite the opposite, in fact. But we are no longer alone on a deserted island with no one to scrutinize our behavior or question our morals." He straightened and spoke in at a normal volume, "I must concentrate on completing my business in Halifax in a timely manner so we may then quickly procure our passage back to England. I think you will agree that is for the best."

"Yes, I see you are right, even if I am not completely resigned to it." They both glanced up and saw Warwick standing behind Huskisson near the helm, glaring down at them with a look of obvious disapproval. They turned and walked back toward the poop. "That man is truly insufferable!"

Darcy smiled and patted her hand, which was wrapped firmly around his arm. "That he may be, Miss Bennet, but we will not have to suffer his presence long. And remember, you do not have to share living quarters with him."

"That is your own fault; you could have very well shared the smaller cabin with Captain Huskisson."

"Yes, I could have. I did not feel it was appropriate however, a captain deserves respect and therefore his privacy."

"I was surprised at your choice; I did not think you would choose a hammock next to lowly sailor over a bed next to a captain."

Darcy's eyes squinted as he considered her remark. "I see your opinion of me has change very little despite the fact that I spent several weeks in your company, sleeping on a wooden crate and running around barefoot."

"But as you said, Mr. Darcy, we are no longer alone. I thought perhaps your pride would keep you from such scandalous behavior."

"And it may, but my pride is under good regulation and I trust my actions that result from it will meet with your approval, for it is yours alone that I seek." He paused their walk and turned to her. "You do not think that I am the type of man who's character is dependant on my surroundings?"

Elizabeth was silent for a moment as her eyes darted back and forth between his. "No, I do not believe you to be so capricious. It is unavoidable that one's mood may change if one's surrounding or company has altered and that may be that case with you sir. In essentials, I believe, you are very much what you ever were."

He smiled and they continued on. "You did not always think so well of me. I believe there was a time you thought me much like our favorite Lieutenant."

"Yes," Elizabeth said gravely, "But that was because you did not introduce me to your true character until after you insulted me in my presence. I could hardly think well of you then. And then after, well, after the clouds were lifted from my eyes and I was able to see you as you truly are. Perhaps the same will happen with our friend Mr. Warwick."

"_Lieutenant_ Warwick, madam, remember. And no, I think not."

She laughed gaily and as the reach the stern they paused to watch the waves crashe triumphantly on the side of the ship. Elizabeth stared off in a reflective manner. "I must confess I have many trepidations about my return home, but oh how I long to see Jane! She must have suffered greatly after I left. She had a rather disappointing winter and then surely a distressing summer."

"Why, what occurred during the winter? I cannot imagine Miss Bennet without a warm smile on her face."

"Yes, her amiability would not escape even Mr. Warwick's notice. But alas, she suffered a great disappointment when a certain gentleman removed himself from the country and never returned."

Darcy did not answer as he thought over her words, _"Could it be that Miss Bennet truly loved Bingley!"_ "I cannot fail to understand your meaning. I was not aware of Miss Bennet's attachment to my friend, perhaps if I had known I would have persuaded him to stay in the country." He smiled grimly. "Perhaps it would have been best if we had _all_ stayed in Hertfordshire over the winter."

"Perhaps. My sister is not the type of lady whose heart is easily exposed, therefore I am not surprised you that were not aware of her feelings. But as for the removal of you party, I must say that I feel that if Mr. Bingley returned my sister's affection in equal proportion then I cannot imagine that he would have left as he did, no matter the influence of others. My sister deserves a man better than that."

Darcy raised her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly. "As do you." He paused and his expression altered from a look of contentment to apprehension and repentance. "Miss Bennet, I must confess that Bingley's heart was most utterly won by your sister, he told me so himself many times, but from my own influence and by that of his family, he came to believe that she did not return his feelings. As a result we did not return to Netherfield."

Elizabeth quickly removed his hand from his grasp, "Sir?" she exclaimed in confusion.

He continued, "I sincerely apologize if my actions in this circumstance have led to your sister's unhappiness, it was most unknowingly done. I was concerned for my friend's welfare as I watched his growing attachment for her. Your sister I also watched. Her look and manners were open, cheerful, and engaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar regard, and I remained convinced from my continuous scrutiny, that though she received his attentions with pleasure, she did not invite them by any participation of sentiment. If _you_ have not been mistaken here, _I_ must have been in an error. Your superior knowledge of your sister must make the latter probable. I will endeavor to refer to your judgment on such matters in the future, but I must add I believe what I have done was done for the best considering the extent of my knowledge on he subject."

Elizabeth was silent for some time. She was angry when she first listened to his words and turned away from him as she stared out a sea. After several minutes, which seemed like hours to Darcy, she swallowed, raised her head and responded to the anxious man standing beside her. "I am rather shocked to here this account, Mr. Darcy. I grieve for sister and her loss, as it seems it was not a necessary one." She paused and looked up at him. "I thank you for admitting to me your error and I acknowledge the significance of that. I do see how you came to the conclusion you did and do not fault your reasoning based on the facts you had before you, although ignorance is not a satisfactory excuse in most cases. I cannot say I am not displeased with what occurred, but I can forgive you for it. Your actions were not malicious but only based on faulty judgment, which we are all guilty of at times." She smiled lightly to assure him of her sentiment.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," he whispered, and they turned back towards the sea and spent a peaceful day in each others' company speaking of their future, England and home.

* * *

1. The poop deck, as funny as the term is, has nothing to do with the bathroom, or the head as it is called on a ship. It is usually referred to as the area on the upper deck at the stern (the back end) that is covered and is where the ship's guests or officers can hang out. I know a little nautical terminology and will use it from time to time. I'm not entirely sure if the Royal Navy in the early 19th century used the same terminology as I do, but it's what I'm going with.

2. The berth deck is a lower deck where the crewmen sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

A/n – Woohoo, I got this chapter done faster than I thought I would! I also thought I'd give you all the information I have about the real _Barbados_ and its captain. Despite the fact that the ship and its captain were real, I am taking many liberties with them in this story.

The _Barbados_, also spelled _Barbadoes_, number 28 was a French privateer originally named _Braave_ and was taken on March 16, 1803 by Capt. Frederick Maitland in Loire. _Braave_ was purchased by the merchants of Barbados and presented to the Government. She was commissioned as a post ship by Capt. Joseph Nourse and he sailed on his first cruise on October 13, 1804. On the fourth day of his cruise, he took the French privateer ship _Napoleon_ of 18 guns and 150 men after a chase of 13 hours, and in November he captured the French privateer sloop _Heureux_. She was nine days out of Guadeloupe and had made no captures. Her ten 6-pounders were thrown overboard during the chase. The Spanish brig _Esta_, laden with tallow was taken in December. An English Guineaman laden with slaves was recaptured during January 1805. On April 8, in sight of the island of Barbados, the French privateer schooner _Desiree_ was taken. Carrying fourteen guns and a crew of 71 men, she had left Guadeloupe four days earlier but had made no captures. She was decoyed within musket shot and seven men were killed and wounded on board her when she returned fire.

1811 Capt. B. Hodgson. Later in the year Capt. Edward Rushworth, off Cherbourg. At the beginning of September _Barbadoes_ and _Goshawk_ were sent to intercept seven French brigs, each armed with 3 long 24-pounders and a mortar, near the Calvados Rocks off Normandy. _Barbadoes_ drove one of them ashore on the 7th and the following day they were joined by _Hotspur_. She grounded as she came within gun-shot and, although she sank some of the enemy and drove two others ashore, she lost 3 killed and 22 wounded from fire from batteries, field guns and the brigs. _Barbadoes_ and _Goshawk_ assisted as best they could with boats and hawsers. On September 30th Mr. Mustard, the carpenter, was tried by court martial for being intoxicated three times while watching the enemy off Cherbourg. He was dismissed from his office and banned from serving as an officer again.

1812 Capt. Thomas HUSKISSON, June 12, who removed from _Garland_. With _Polephemus_ he acted as escort to a convoy of merchantmen in August and on the 22nd captured the U.S. revenue schooner _James Madison_, commanded by George Brooks, with 10 guns mounted and a complement of 65 men, after a chase of 7 hours some 200 miles off South Carolina. The schooner, from Savannah, had been hovering about the outskirts of the convoy waiting to attack the rear of the fleet. A few days afterwards _Barbadoes_ lost her top-masts and main-yard in a violent hurricane which separated her from the convoy. She made her way to Bermuda to refit. While sailing to Halifax with three small vessels under convoy, _Barbadoes_ and two of the vessels struck on the N.W. bar of Sable Island during the night of September 28, 1812 and were wrecked. The boats were stove in by the heavy surf before half the crew had been landed and she was smashed to pieces within 48 hours but only one man lost his life. _Barbadoes_ had been carrying 60,000 dollars for the Halifax Dockyard, this was saved by attaching a buoy to each of the cases. The vessel which escaped took the news to Halifax and 12 days later they were rescued by _Shannon_ and a schooner. The loss was blamed on an extraordinary and uncertain state of currents.

Captain Huskisson was a very successful officer in the Royal Navy in both France against Napoleon and in the Caribbean during the War of 1812 and beyond. Here's a timeline of his actions that I know of:

1808 to May 1809 – Lieutenant on the _Fleur-de-la-Mer_, ordered to command the schooner off the coast of San Domingo

May 1809 to February 1810 – Promoted to Captain of the _Pelorus_, which along with the _Hazard_ captured a privateer schooner while on guard duty near the bay of Point-a-Petre

February to July 1810 – Captain of the_ Blonde_

November 1810 – Captain of the _Pelorus_ again

March 1811 to June 1812 – Promoted to post rank and removed to the _Garland_

June to September 1812 – Captain of the _Barbados_.

June 1815 – Captain of the _Euryalus_ near the Seine to prevent Napoleon's escape.

July 1818 to May 1820 – Captain of the _Euryalus_ again in the Caribbean and appointed Commodore of a squadron in November 1819.

May to June 1820 – Sent to Jamaica under Sir Home Popham

June 1820 – Again appointed Commodore of a squadron in the Caribbean after Sir Home returns to England and dies.

December 1820 – Returns home due to ill heath

November 1821 – Flag Captain of the _Semiramis_

June 1833 – Son Thomas, midshipman on _Cordellia_, died at Malta, age 18.

All information from "Ships of the Old Navy: A history of the sailing ships of the Royal Navy" by Michael Phillips. Google it and you'll find it.

* * *

Chapter 19

Days 19 through 30

Over the next several days Elizabeth and Darcy enjoyed a quiet and uneventful journey. At times the wind worked against them and they would scarcely travel more than 40 miles, but other days it appeared that the stars were aligned in their favor and the _Barbados_ would well make up for lost time. Over the 12 day voyage across the ocean to Halifax they hardly took notice of the weather or of any of the others on the ship, save Captain Huskisson. They generally ate their meals with the officers but were more often than not ignored and happily conversed amongst themselves. During the days and evenings they met on deck to walk about and discuss their future, share stories from their childhood or laugh about their past foolishness.

But at night, alone in her cabin, Elizabeth was lonely and fearful of what would occur once they returned to England. She tossed and turned, stayed up late making slippers from scraps of fabric, tried to concentrate on a novel borrowed from the captain, or just lied awake vowing to discuss her concerns with Darcy the following day. Then, in the bright and cheery sun of the morning, her anxieties would be washed away and she would greet her fiancé with a truly joyful smile. It was far too difficult to be fearful of anything when she found him smiling back at her; he was all comfort and reassurance.

The day they arrived in Halifax, they walked down the dock arm in arm mindful of the curious looks of others but focused on each other and in high spirits. While Darcy was able to procure a new set of clothing from one of the officers on the ship, Elizabeth was not so fortunate. Under the oversized coat that hung like drapery over her shoulders was the same dress she wore the day she arrived at Sanguine Island. She longed for a proper bath and a change of garment, but knew it would come in time. She gazed at the perfectly dress gentleman at her side and smiled to herself as she recalled his costume from the weeks before. She had certainly become used to his short sleeves hanging loosely open at the collar and his tan legs being bare below the knee. He turned and caught her devious expression and only raised an eyebrow before lightly shaking his head.

They were paused on the dock when Captain Huskisson and several of the other officers, including Lieutenant Warwick, joined them. They said their awkward goodbyes, several of the men barely looked at them as they bowed. Warwick surprisingly held out his hand to Darcy, who took it with some apprehension but with no less civility.

As Huskisson led them away from the pier and through town Darcy murmured to Elizabeth, "I will never understand that man, at every turn his actions were so peculiar, it is as if he is never sure the proper way to conduct himself."

"I think, perhaps, you are correct. Although it is no matter, we shall never see him again."

"And I am glad for it!"

They walked through the busy marketplace, past stands of people selling fruit, store windows with displays of imported goods from England, France and places as far away as India, as well as hordes of sailors walking about. Elizabeth's eyes darted round at every sight and she was quite amused at all the splendid things. It did not take long to traverse past the crowds and they quickly made their way to a calmer part of town.

Captain Huskisson turned to speak with them as they walked, "As you can see it can get quite busy here, although things seemed to have quieted down a bit since trade with the United States has ceased. More soldiers and fewer businessmen it appears." He stopped them in front of a modest three-story home with a garden to its right and the face of a small dark-haired girl in the window. "Here we are. Welcome to my home."

It was not long before the face in the window disappeared and came running through the front door yelling, "Papa!" and into Huskisson's arms. She was followed by a tall, graceful looking woman, smiling prettily at her husband. "Thomas" said the woman with only a hint of a French accent, "You are home." She held out her hands and kissed his cheek, "And who are your friends," she turned to Elizabeth and Darcy, eyeing them curiously.

"Emele, I would like to introduce you to Miss Bennet and Mr. Darcy. Miss Bennet will be staying with us for a while until she travels back to England."

"It is a pleasure to meet you both," her smile was warm and inviting, "You must be hungry and tired, please come in and have tea."

"I thank you for your kindness, Mrs. Huskisson, but I unfortunately must take my leave. I have urgent business here in town and I do not want to delay it any further." As Darcy spoke, Elizabeth turned to him, begging him with her eyes to stay. He understood her meaning fully. "I will call on you this evening, that is, if it is not an inconvenience to you."

From there it was planned that Darcy would return for a late supper at the Huskissons' and after procuring directions from the captain, he set off with a rather determined expression on his face.

Mrs. Huskisson took no time in procuring clean attire for Elizabeth and showed her to one of the guest rooms where she left her to a capable maid and a well deserved bath followed by an unexpected nap resulting from Elizabeth's desire to only "try out" the large inviting bed.

Elizabeth awoke several hours later feeling more rested than she had ever felt in weeks. She was slightly embarrassed to find that most of the day had passed without her getting to know her hostess and she quickly fixed her hair and smoothed her borrowed dress before going in search of the lady of the house. She found Mrs. Huskisson rather easily as she was sitting with Clara in the room adjacent to hers. The door was open and both the mother and child looked up and greeted Elizabeth. Clara stood and ran over to her, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards a pile of toys on the floor, her new doll clutched tightly in her hands.

"Miss Bennet, Miss Bennet, you sleep so very much! Have you seen my new doll?" Clara was talking very fast and clear for a three year old.

"No, I have not, but your father told me all about her on the ship. May I hold her?" Elizabeth sat in a smallish rocking chair near the window next to Mrs. Huskisson, who looked delighted to see her guest up and about. After giving the doll a thorough examination Elizabeth was forced to give it up to its impatient owner. "Does she have a name?"

"Of course she does, she's not a baby!" Clara exclaimed without offering anymore explanation.

"Clara, do not be rude to our guest, Miss Bennet was asking your doll's name," Mrs. Huskisson scolded.

"I know," said Clara with a slight frown, "But she hasn't told me it yet."

The ladies could only laugh at the child's frustration, which resulted in a few tears from the sensitive little girl who was promptly put down for her nap. The ladies then moved down to the sitting room at the front of the house where some refreshments were placed.

"Miss Bennet, you have not eaten since you arrived in Halifax and dinner will not be for another hour or so, please have something now." Elizabeth eagerly complied and as they ate they spoke of their families, of Halifax and of England.

"It may surprise you that I have never been there," Mrs. Huskisson confessed.

"Never been to England and married to an Englishman, how peculiar!"

"It is true. We married in France and travel from there to Scotland and from Scotland to here and I have not traveled across the ocean since. I will not again if I can avoid it! I was with child the first time and it did not make for a pleasant journey."

"Your husband implied that he enjoyed his time with you at sea, it is clear you did not!" Elizabeth was very happy to be conversing with this woman, she was very amiable and appeared to be as impertinent as she.

"Oh no! It is my husband's life and not mine and I am very content in Halifax. There is an interesting society here, such a mixture of people and cultures, I feel as though I have friends from all over the world."

"It sounds so very interesting, so much more so than the society I am used to in Meryton. But you much miss the captain when he is away."

Mrs. Huskisson's face looked slightly melancholy at that statement. "Yes, especially as of late. He is away from home now most of the time and with the war I am fearful for him. It is always difficult to be away from the ones you love, as you must know. Now tell me, Miss Bennet, for my husband has only mentioned a few little bits of the story and I must know of your and Mr. Darcy's adventures!"

"Oh, you make it sound as if we are characters in a romantic novel and I assure you it is nothing of the sort!" Elizabeth then began from the day the _Jane_ left Scotland and told her companion most of what occurred in the previous month, omitting much of the more intimate moments. Elizabeth's way of storytelling provided Mrs. Huskisson with much amusement for the better part of an hour. When she concluded, Elizabeth was relieved to be done but was greatly surprised by the questions that followed.

"And you and Mr. Darcy are to be married?" Elizabeth did not answer right away. "Miss Bennet, it was quite obvious that you two are in love, for I do have eyes, and of course my husband told me."

"I was not aware that the captain knew of our engagement." Elizabeth looked confused and irritated.

"Oh, do not fret now; my husband has his own quite way of meddling. He was only doing the honorable thing and insisting that Mr. Darcy marry you after your little adventure together and Mr. Darcy assured him that he had every intention to do so. By the way, someday I would like to hear the rest of your story, the parts you left out!" And with a devious smile, Mrs. Huskisson ringed the maid to take away the trays. After the servants left, the clever Frenchwoman softened her expression and addressed Elizabeth in more comforting tones.

"I am sorry, Miss Bennet, if I suggest too much, it is not my intention to make you uncomfortable." She paused and a glint in her eye warned Elizabeth of what was to come. "This is why I do not ask you why you left England in the first place."

"I appreciate your restraint, Mrs. Huskisson." Elizabeth could only laugh, because even if she was slightly uncomfortable she was also amused by the woman.

"Oh, please call me Emele, Huskisson is such a mouthful, especially for my French tongue."

"You speak English very well and I would be pleased if you called me Elizabeth."

"Good. Now that we are intimate friends I must give you some advice. You will be getting much of it from all of your married friends, but what I have to say is very important. Men are dense creatures when it comes to women. They are good with a poetic verse but dreadful at reading our minds, it is so sad really. Therefore we must be clear and tell them everything so that they understand it, otherwise they know nothing of what we are thinking and feeling and this only results in useless arguments and spats. Do you understand?"

"I do, I believe I have had some experience with this."

"Then this evening you must find a time to be alone with your Mr. Darcy and tell him of your concerns," Emele held up her hand as Elizabeth tried to protest, "No, no, I see that you are worried about something and you need not tell your good friend Emele, but you must tell your tall, very proper looking fiancé your fears."

Elizabeth did not answer at first, being slightly offended, but she understood what Emele was saying and despite her uncouth way of doing it, she was only trying to help. "Thank you, I appreciate your assistance, I will take your advice to heart."

"Very good. Now on to your wardrobe, something must be done, as you have none. I am sure your Mr. Darcy would be willing to pay for anything and so tomorrow we will go shopping for something that will fit you better than my old clothing."

Elizabeth colored at the idea of dragging Mr. Darcy around to various shops and having him buy her a collection of new things, but she did not say a word and merely let Emele speak on about all the places they would go. Soon the dinner hour approached and Clara had to be attended to, so the ladies rose and separated to their respective rooms, each with much to think about of the other.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Day 31 continued

Mr. Frederick Darcy was sitting behind his desk in his office. The small room was lined with bookshelves and sat in one of the front rooms of a building in the center of Halifax, above a cobbler's shop. His eyes were squinted and his mouth hung open slightly as he stared overtly at the figure of his cousin standing before him.

Frederick was a distant cousin of Fitzwilliam and Georgiana Darcy. He had the unfortunate fate of being the third son of a very wealthy man; therefore he grew up with all the enjoyment of wealth and without the promise of its continuation once he became of age. Being the middle child of five he was also often ignored by both parents and his siblings. His eldest brother, Henry, was always with his father, being groomed to take over the estate. His other brother, Walter, a very reserved boy growing up, became a powerful Major General in the army. His sisters, twins, were 8 years younger than him and while they loved their amusing older brother, he was nothing compared to their generous father.

During his younger days, he was sent off to visit with relatives with the hope he would find some interest in a career, in the same way a young woman would be sent off to find a husband. He was never very welcome in any of these homes, save Pemberley. His cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy, was only a year younger than him and while their characters were very different, they had become close friends. It was Fitzwilliam that suggested the law and without many other options before him, Frederick chose to follow the same course as his grandfather.

For the first time in his life, Frederick Darcy had the support and attention of his family; but soon after, his father passed away and his life on his own began. It was then that he did what no one in the family would ever want or expect him to do. He announced that he was going to marry his sisters' governess, a poor, young Irish girl named Fiona and that they were moving to the other side of the world. Within several months they were settled in Halifax, and several years later Frederick's only remaining contact with his family perished in a wreck on his way to visit him. Or so he thought.

Somehow Fitzwilliam Darcy was standing before him, as alive as he ever was, with a relieved smile stretched across his face.

"Good God, Fitzwilliam, if you are a ghost I hope you have come to tell me where my father buried my copy of _Fanny Hill_."

"How do you know he buried it? If anything, I suspect he had it buried with him." Darcy held out his hand, "I am _quite_ alive, cousin, and I am sorry that I am late."

"Oh, it is only a few weeks, but Fitzwilliam, I do not understand! All reports seemed to indicate that you were lost at sea!" Frederick ignored Darcy's outstretched hand and wrapped his arms around his cousin.

"Yes, the reports were correct, I was lost for some time, but we were found several weeks ago by a passing ship and arrived in Halifax only this morning."

"We?"

"Yes, Miss Bennet and I spent several weeks on a remote island…"

"Well, now, this story ought to be good!" Frederick picked up his hat. "Come, let us walk to my townhouse, Fiona will want to hear this one."

The Darcys' townhouse was located several blocks from the law office and the cousins did not have a long walk before they were at its door. Along the way, Frederick told Darcy of his family and of his life in Nova Scotia. Darcy spoke very little, saving his tale for the seclusion of his cousin's home. His thoughts often turned to Elizabeth and he wondered what she was doing at that moment. As they crossed the threshold into the home, Darcy was shaken out of his reverie as Frederick called out rather crudely to his wife.

"Fiona! _Fiona_!" He yelled louder as he shrugged out of his coat. "Fiona, you will never guess what I found today!"

An equally loud but sweeter voice, with the hint of an Irish drawl, came from upstairs, "Frederick? What are you doing home so early?" A moment later, a very pretty woman with dark hair, pale skin, and a small frame floated down the stairs. There was a look of surprise when her eyes met Darcy's, but it was accompanied by an affectionate grin. She kissed her husband's cheek and asked, "And who is your friend?"

"This is my cousin, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy," Frederick answered with a sly smile in anticipation of her reaction. He was not disappointed, Fiona's eyes opened wide and she quite abruptly exclaimed, "No!" before composing herself and inviting the gentlemen to sit in the parlor while she ordered some refreshments.

Upon her return, Frederick had procured his own idea of midmorning fare and poured his wife and cousin a glass of port before refilling his own glass.

"Frederick! That is quite enough! I apologize, Mr. Darcy, it is certainly not our custom to indulge ourselves in such a way so early in the day."

"Hogwash Fiona, it most certainly is! At least it is for me, for you do not have to be in constant dealings with shady merchantmen and immoral sailors. But enough of that. Come now, Fitzwilliam, tell us your tale; and do not leave one bit out."

At this request, Darcy began his story. Contrary to Frederick's word, Darcy did leave a few bits out in order to protect their opinion of Elizabeth. He did tell them of their engagement and promised to introduce her as soon as his business was concluded. At the end of his speech, Frederick and Fiona sat stunned and did not respond at first. Finally, after a long minute of uncharacteristic silence, Frederick spoke, "Well, Fitzwilliam, if I did not know you better, I would accuse you of telling me falsehoods. That cannot be however, you are too honorable for that. God knows why. What confounds me is that you were trapped alone on a deserted island with a beautiful woman for several weeks and you managed to keep your hands off of her. I know if that had occurred to Fiona and me in the early staged of our, shall we say, 'courtship,' I do not think she would have left the island as pure as your Miss Bennet."

At this, Fiona cried out in disgust at her husband's comments, and in embarrassment, excused herself to see to the baby. Darcy did not respond, but colored slightly and placed the back of his hand to his mouth to hide his discomfit. He spoke after Frederick's calls of mock apology to his wife quieted down.

"You should not speak so of your wife, Frederick," Darcy said in hopes of disguising his thoughts with his usual gentlemanly concern.

"It is how I always speak of my wife when in the company of friends, Fiona has never cared before. Perhaps your proper speech intimidated her into modesty, I cannot know. They are queer ones, those Irish, quite pretty though!" Darcy did not laugh along with his cousin, but his expression became grave. "Oh Fitzwilliam, you must cease with the Darcy gloom, it does very little for your wellbeing. Fiona knows I speak in jest, I daresay she must be used to my ways by now. If fact, she was quite used to it when she accepted me and she still agreed to accompany me to the other side of the world. Fiona may be more subdued than I in temperament, but that does not mean she lacks affection for my excitable ways. We balance each other, you see, and we are quite happy."

Frederick paused to sip his port and then leaned forward and spoke in a quite but prodding tone, "Now, tell me more of your lady, I must know more of the woman that trapped my cousin's heart. And do not tell me you merely proposed to her to save her reputation. I cannot bear to see in you a marriage as loveless as our both our parents' were."

Darcy nodded in understanding and then smiled slightly before answering, "No, I marry for love, Fitzwilliam, by your influence. I have loved Miss Bennet for many months, long before our adventures began. We met last fall, in Hertfordshire, while I was staying at the Netherfield estate recently let by my old friend Charles Bingley. You remember Bingley, he is the one you convinced to fall in love with Lady Margaret, who is more than fifteen years his senior."

"Ah, yes, the boy you got into Cambridge. Pleasant fellow, although he is a bit daft at times. How is he now? You still watching out for him? You do take your father's instructions rather too seriously."

"Yes, well, Bingley is quite his own man now, although he is no more successful with members of the opposite sex. He is trying to settle on an estate, but finds himself easily distracted by a pretty face. He fancied himself in love with the eldest Miss Bennet, and naturally I felt I had to rescue him from folly yet again. Only, I misjudge the situation; it appears Bingley finally found a woman that returned his affections. Unfortunately the damage is already done and I do not know if I can remedy it."

Frederick picked up the bottle to his side and refilled Darcy's glass without asking. "Perhaps it is time to let go of that obligation and let Bingley make his own decisions for once. If his heart was truly in it, he would have secured the girl. I cannot imagine running away from a woman I love simply because you tell me to."

"Ah, but you and Bingley are quite different in that respect. Bingley has been hurt too many times to trust himself. You were blessed with your first attempt and you cannot know the bitterness of rejection."

"Perhaps, but no more of Bingley and his sad tale, I want to hear more of your blissful one."

"There is not much more to say. I left Hertfordshire for London before the winter without considering ever seeing the Bennets again. I contacted you not long after about an excursion here in order to inquire about that property you wrote to me about, and I met Miss Elizabeth Bennet on the ship. I believe I told you the rest."

"You know very well that is not what you believe!" exclaimed Frederick, "Why was Miss Bennet on the ship? How did you convince her to accept you? Why is she not with you now?"

Darcy sighed and slowly sipped his port. It was always very difficult to hide his thoughts from his cousin. Frederick's casual treatment of the exposure of one's feelings was always frightening but also appealing to Darcy. Speaking with Frederick about anything always felt rather liberating once one developed the courage to speak with candor.

"Miss Bennet did not always care for me." This confession raised his cousin's eyebrows. "It seems I offended her in several ways in the early stages of our acquaintance, and probably in the later stages as well. On the island we… we learned to get past our differences. We became honest with each other and I confessed my feelings for her, in several ways." Darcy briefly glanced at his cousin who displayed a rather devious smile. "After several hours of explanation and encouragement and a night to think on it, she agreed to have me. It is all quite miraculous really." He cleared his throat in an act of relief. "We were saved that very day."

"Extraordinary!"

"Yes. Miss Bennet is now at the residence of Captain Huskisson while I tend to some business. We are to travel back to England at some point in the near future. I have come to you to ask that assist me in several matters, including the best way to travel."

Frederick laughed a little before he responded, "Eager are you? Well, your options are rather limited. I know there is a passenger ship leaving either tomorrow or the next day, I do not remember when exactly."

"No, I need more time than that. Perhaps in a week or so?"

"I am afraid it may be difficult. At these times, passenger ships are not as frequent as they once were. I will see what is available. Perhaps your Captain friend can help you more there. As for your other business, I have heard just yesterday that the land I wrote to you of has been purchased. I am sorry for that, but you should have been saved a few days earlier. It is no matter, there are a few other prospects you should consider."

"Yes, actually, I have one in particular in mind."

"Is that so? Well, let us return to my office, it is best to speak of these matters there. The meddling servants will get quite bored eavesdropping on this conversation before long."

* * *

A/n - Sorry for the delay but I've been quite busy lately. As you may have guessed, Frederick Darcy is the grandson of the great uncle, the judge, which Caroline referred to in Ch. 10 of P&P. And if you are interested, although it's not really important to the story, in my mind Fiona was born to an Irish father and an English mother, neither one from money or connections. A wealthy maternal relative (some uncle made it big in trade or something) decided to take pity on her and had her sent to school in England. Like Jane Eyre, Fiona had the gumption to take her fate into her own hands and decided to become a governess. She worked for the Darcys (Frederick's parents) for two years before Frederick stopped chasing the fine ladies of the ton and realized that he had been in love with her the whole time. She, of course, had been in love with him from the start and would have followed him to India or Australia or anywhere he asked her to, as long as he married her and treated her as his equal.


	21. Chapter 21

A/n - So sorry this took so long, this is such a crazy time of year!

Chapter 21

Day 31 Continued

Elizabeth sat in quiet contemplation throughout most of supper. She and Mr. Darcy had been separated all day for the first time since they met on board the _Jane._ For the first time in many weeks she had been alone without knowledge of where he was. He had returned to her only several minutes before supper was served. Her face beamed at the sight of him and she was forced to suppress all feelings of urgent need when she found him standing before her. She only wished to be held and kissed; food and conversation with their hosts were irritating necessities. Taking Darcy's arm, she begrudgingly sat down with the others and silently spooned her soup.

Darcy sat across from her and eyed her suspiciously, and only when her head rose and their eyes met was he able to procure a smile. He silently vowed to speak privately with her before he left for the night, but he was forced to think of other things by a question from Mrs. Huskisson.

"I beg your pardon, madam?"

"Your cousin, Mr. Darcy, now what does he do?"

"He practices law here in town."

"I see, and it is with him that you have business?"

"Yes, indeed, he is helping me with some important matters." He turned to Elizabeth, "I am afraid that I will be busy for most of the day tomorrow and shall not be able to visit with you all again until later in the evening."

"I understand, Mr. Darcy. May I ask what will keep you away?" Elizabeth tried to mask her disappointment with a warm smile.

Darcy narrowed his eyes rather mischievously while he took a moment to think over his response. "You may ask, Miss Bennet, but you will not receive an answer." With that, Darcy nonchalantly sipped his wine and turned to his hosts.

Elizabeth's eyes darkened and her lips pressed together at Darcy's words. She was about to call her fiancé out for his thoughtlessness when he turned back to her with a curious smile. "Do not fret, Miss Bennet, you will learn of it soon enough. I only wish to keep it from you a little bit longer so when I present you with the knowledge the surprise will have an even greater effect. We men must have our secrets."

Still quite perturbed at his concealment, Elizabeth feigned indifference. "Then I shall be determined not to think of it. You may try and taunt me if you will, but I will only turn my head and speak to our friends of more important things." Raising her chin, she did just that. "Captain Huskisson, your wife has promised me a day of shopping on the morrow. Pray, do tell us that we will be accompanied by a bright and warming sun."

The captain looked up from his soup, rather startled to suddenly be included in the conversation. He first turned to Darcy, who was smiling slightly too fondly at Elizabeth, before turning to her to answer her question. "I am sorry to inform you, Miss Bennet, but I believe tomorrow calls for rain. That shall not impede you, I believe Mrs. Huskisson is quite determined to procure you a new wardrobe and weather cannot hinder my wife, I can assure you."

Later in the evening, not long before Darcy felt it best for him to leave, both Captain and Mrs. Huskisson were suspiciously called away, and Elizabeth and Darcy found themselves alone. It did not take Darcy's arms long to find their way around her slim form, and as Elizabeth laid her head on his shoulder she let out a distressing sigh.

"Elizabeth, I could not help but notice you seem troubled. Please, tell me your worries and I will do everything in my power to relieve you."

Elizabeth tilted her head forward; her wide, dark eyes looked weary and tired. Darcy softly pressed his lips to her forehead and then brought his face down to brush his them against her cheek.

"I have missed you," was her breathy response.

"And I you," his mouth tickled her ear.

"And you will leave me again tomorrow?"

"I shall. It appears you have been making plans without me anyway. I cannot be needed on a shopping excursion."

"Perhaps not needed, but most certainly welcome." Her hands that laid flat on his chest sought the inviting warmth of his face. She cupped her hands on either cheek and looked straight into his eyes. She stared into them for several moments, swallowing before finding the resolve to speak. "Fitzwilliam, I find myself rather in doubt."

Confusion and alarm flashed through Darcy's eyes. He released her slightly and peered down at her. "In doubt? What do you doubt? Not I?"

"No, not you. It is my own fears, my own uncertainty. I wish more than anything now to return to England and become your wife, to see my family, but there is so much unknown awaiting me there."

"What is unknown? Your family will be overjoyed at your return, we will be married as soon as legally possible, and you will love Pemberley as much as everyone there will love you. What more is there to know?"

"Fitzwilliam, please, it is more complicated than that. I only worry…"

Before Elizabeth could continue, voices could be heard in the hall. With a chaste kiss on the lips, they separated to different couches and tried to appear calm as Emele appeared in the doorway.

"Well! I do hope that you had enough time, I was terribly bored up there!" she exclaimed before seating herself down near Elizabeth.

The visit from Mr. Darcy ending shortly after, allowing neither he nor Elizabeth a chance to continue their conversation. He bowed politely as he made to leave and took her hand gently before pressing it slowly to his lips. Elizabeth watched him with anxiety, feeling a sudden sense of foreboding and wishing desperately to cling to him. There was nothing to be done for it however, and after promising most profusely to visit the following evening, he was gone.

* * *

The next day, Elizabeth spent the morning hours sitting with Emele as she received several visitors interested in meeting her new guest. Elizabeth was all politeness and charm, although she felt a strange and desperate need to leave the house throughout all the idle conversation happening around her.

After tea, the ladies set out for the shops. While the idea of buying new clothes would normally appeal to Elizabeth, this particular outing did not bring out the usual excitement at the prospect of such an excursion. Determined to enjoy herself, and to also prove that she could in fact get through the day without Darcy's company, Elizabeth widen her smile and delved into the world of ribbons, patterns and fabrics.

After several hours, the exhausted pair decided to return home. As they did so, they passed a bookshop and Elizabeth decided to step inside with the hopes of finding something to help passed the time in her temporary home. As she reached the threshold of the entrance, her eye was caught by the window display. As a result, the couple exiting the shop, also distracted by conversation, walked directly into her.

"Oh my, I do beg your pardon, Miss!" said the lady. Elizabeth did not respond but only stared, her mouth and her eyes opened wide at the sight before her.

"Aunt!" she cry out, wells of tears forming in her eyes.

"Lizzy! It cannot be! Is it so, is it really so?" Mrs. Gardiner hands were brought to Elizabeth's face and the women shared an embrace.

"It is so! And you are here! How have you come? To find you here in Halifax! It is a dream!" Elizabeth's hand reached out to her uncle, who joined his wife in reception of a niece they believed long lost at sea.

Mr. Gardiner gestured for the ladies to move away from the shop before speaking, "We arrived in Halifax several weeks ago in hopes of finding you. It has been six days now since we learned of the wreck of the _Jane_ and our hopes were dashed. We sent a letter to your father as soon as we heard and prepared ourselves for a dismal return back to England. But Elizabeth, do tell us, how is it that our deepest wish has come true?"

"My dear uncle, there is so much to tell! Let us not begin here. Emele," Elizabeth reached for her friend's arm, "Let me introduce you to my uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner."

"It is a pleasure to meet any relations of Elizabeth's, especially on this side of the ocean."

Elizabeth continued, "And this is my friend, Mrs. Huskisson. Her husband, Captain Huskisson, is the one you should be thanking, for it was he and his crew that brought me here."

"Oh, Lizzy, is it true, you were on the _Jane_ then?"

"Yes, Aunt, but let us save the details for tea."

The four elated friends returned to the Huskisson's home where, once settled and composed, Elizabeth told them her story. They were shocked at every description, gratified for the heroism of Mr. Darcy, and proud of their resilient niece. Elizabeth did not speak of her engagement to Mr. Darcy; she wished to share the news with them together with her fiancé. After several more tears, embraces and exclamations of happiness, it was the Gardiners turn to tell their tale.

Mrs. Gardiner began, "Well, Lizzy, Mr. Gardiner learned of your departure from England several days after your ships left Scotland. Your father came to London in search of you and it was quickly decided that your uncle and I would travel here with the intention of bringing you home." She paused to take Elizabeth's hand and sighed before continuing, "The journey was a rough one. We left about a week after you and therefore did not encounter the full force of the storm, but it was violent enough to keep me ill throughout most of it. The voyage took much longer than anticipated and when we arrived at Prince Edward Island we were fearful that your own travels had already taken you far from us. Little did we know how far! There was no news of your ship's arrival and finally we decided to travel to Halifax in hopes of reports from there. Elizabeth, you cannot know the grief we felt when we heard of the wreck. We were told by many that there were no survivors. Small boats of several passengers from the ship were found, but none were alive. It was a dreadful time for us." Mrs. Gardiner let out a small cry as she began to weep at the memory.

Mr. Gardiner patted her shoulder and continued for his wife, "Elizabeth, it hardly seems real that you are here. We spoke to so many that assured us that there was no hope. We own a debt of gratitude to both Mr. Darcy and Captain Huskisson."

"Mr. Darcy will return here this evening. You may speak to him then."

Mr. Gardiner smile brightly, "Slendid! We are fortunate to meet him before we depart."

"Whatever do you mean?" asked Elizabeth.

"When we arrived in Halifax we purchased our passage home, yours included. We had great hopes in finding you and we understood that procuring a way home would be more difficult than it was coming here. We leave in the morning."


	22. Chapter 22

A/n - I am sooooo sorry that things are progressing so slowly with this story, I assure you that I am trying my hardest to write whenever I can. Things should be a bit calmer after the new year.

Chapter 22

Day 32 continued

Elizabeth sat stunned; an expression of alarm washed over her face. All the jovial pink in her cheeks disappeared as her mind raced.

"So soon?"

"I am afraid so, my dear. The passages have already been secured. If we do not leave tomorrow, we will not only lose the money that has been paid, but we will also have to wait several weeks before we can acquire spaces on another ship. You do see that it is necessary?" Mr. Gardiner spoke warmly, but with a hint of confusion.

Elizabeth swallowed weakly and nodded before giving her aunt and uncle a sweet, if not sincere, smile.

"Do you know if there are any more spaces available on the ship, I am sure Mr. Darcy is anxious to return home as well?"

"I dare say he is," spoke up her aunt, placing a hand over hers, "I am sure his family is as concerned about him as we all were of you. He has a much younger sister, if I remember correctly, she must be devastated."

"Yes, Georgiana, she is sixteen."

"Oh! He spoke to you of her," Mrs. Gardiner's eyes narrowed, and after a quick glance at her husband, she continued, "You and Mr. Darcy must have had much time to converse on a number of things. You were much alone together." Her voice lowered, "Did anything of significance occur during that time, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened and her face colored briefly before she composed herself enough to answer. "Oh no! Mr. Darcy was the perfect gentleman!" She sighed, secretly glad that Mrs. Huskisson had excused herself only moments before, "It should hardly signify anyhow, my virtue was compromised in the eyes of society long ago."

"Lizzy, dear, you do not know what has occurred since you left; therefore you cannot believe all hope is lost. As far as anyone is aware, you are visited relations here. The past, I am sure, is forgotten. Even your mother only wishes for you to return home safely."

A short laugh gasped from Elizabeth's lips. "Now I _know_ that cannot be true! Come now, aunt, you do not expect me to believe _that!_"

Here, her uncle came forward. "Elizabeth, I know my sister may seem cruel at times, but believe me when I say that she loves you as she loves all her children and does not wish you harm. In fact, all her scheming was meant with kindness and hope for a secure future for you all. Her heart may have been misdirected, but it was her heart that has always led her actions."

Before any of their discussions could continue, Mrs. Huskisson returned with Clara in her arms. No more talk of virtue or Mrs. Bennet could continue while the little child and her mother entertained their guests with a curious style of song. In a language foreign to Elizabeth and her friends, Clara sang in a pleasing and light style for such a young girl while her mother repeated the words in a sort of echo. The beauty of the sound forced the troubles in Elizabeth's mind away as she became more and more engrossed in the music. (1)

"Oh how wonderful!" cried Mrs. Gardiner when the song was complete, "You must tell us more about this music. I do not believe I have ever heard it before."

Mrs. Huskisson smiled, "It would be my pleasure. It is the music of my mother's people; they are countrymen, unconcerned with the rest of the world. Except my mother, of course, who became very concern with a handsome gentleman from Paris, my father. My mother left the country, but the country never left her and she taught me their music as her mother taught her, and as I now teach my Clara."

"It is very beautiful, perhaps you could teach me?" asked Elizabeth, and her wish was granted. For several hours the happy party entertained each other in harmonious song.

Hardly before anyone was aware, it was almost time for supper. The Gardiners were invited to stay and Elizabeth retreated to her room with her aunt, while Mr. Gardiner spoke earnestly with Captain Huskisson about the local fishing industry in the study.

As Elizabeth gathered together the few items that she could call her own, Mrs. Gardiner eyed her suspiciously. "Lizzy, you appear to be a little nervous, might I ask why?"

Elizabeth laughed lightly, either because of her nerves or in spite of them. "Perhaps I am only a little tired. It has been a rather eventful day, would you not agree?"

"Yes, dear." Unconvinced, Mrs. Gardiner decided not to voice her concerns further for now.

Elizabeth knew not why should could not share her engagement with Mr. Darcy with her aunt. She dearly wished to, and although it is not proper to expose the agreement before Mr. Bennet has been appeal to, surely her aunt would be soul of discretion. Perhaps there was a piece of her that doubted the marriage would actually occur. It was difficult for her to believe she deserved such happiness after all that had occured. She was concerned about the time and distance that they would spend apart before he returned to England. "_Oh, you foolish, headstrong girl! Fitzwilliam is coming tonight and he will reassure me. We will tell aunt and uncle then."_

But he did not come. Not for supper, although she was told not to expect that, not after the meal while they sang songs and Elizabeth played piano by candlelight, and not even at that late hour when the Gardiners insisted that they must return to their rooms in order to prepare for their journey the following morning. She had put on a brave face when in company; although it was easy to deceive a good-humored group of friends who quite forgot that a Mr. Darcy was suppose to call.

Elizabeth was distraught. "_Why did he not come?"_ She chastised herself for not sending a note to his cousin's home when she first learned that she was leaving, but she fully expected to see him and thought it not necessary. Now it was too late in the night and she dared not disturb the Huskissons' servants now.

Lying in her bed, she slept not a moment. Scenarios flashed through her mind - Darcy dead by the hands of a thief, Darcy in the arms of another woman, Darcy caught in the storm that passed through and unable to reach her. The last seemed the most probable, but still her mind was not at ease. She vowed to write to him at first light begging him to come to her before she left.

As the sun barely rose through the gray clouds hovering melancholy in the sky, Elizabeth rose and quickly penned the letter.

"Fitzwilliam,

Excuse my brief words, but there is not much time. My uncle, Mr. Gardiner, is here with my aunt in Halifax and insists on returning to England today. We leave in mere moments as the ship departs at an early hour. I had not the time nor the inclination to tell them of our engagement as I had expect you last evening, but you did not come! I have no choice but to leave you without saying goodbye and can only hope that you may receive this in time to come to the ship before we leave.

Please, Fitzwilliam, come! Come quickly!

Your's, &c"

The letter was dispatched discretely by a young servant Elizabeth stopped in the hall outside her room. The Gardiners arrived only moments later and Elizabeth met them near the entrance hall, a servant following behind with her small bag of belongings. Mrs. Huskisson emerged along with the Captain holding a very sleepy Clara in his arms.

"Why are you leaving so soon?" asked the little girl in a drowsy, irritated voice.

"I am so sorry, dear little Clara, but I must return home to my family. Perhaps one day you will come to England and I may see you again. Will you write to me?" asked Elizabeth, knowing quite well the young child was still learning her letters.

"I will send you some drawings of Halifax so you will not forget it. Or us!"

"That would be perfect." Elizabeth kissed the child's damp cheek.

She turned to her generous friends, "I cannot express my gratitude in full degree for all that you both have done. I know not where I would be without you!" exclaimed Elizabeth with some emotion. The Captain took her hand and Mrs. Huskisson embraced her gently.

With a tearful wave goodbye, Elizabeth joined the Gardiners in the carriage and prepared herself to leave Halifax forever.

* * *

At half past six in the morning a letter arrived at the home of Mr. Frederick Darcy. The servant that received the letter did not deliver it directly to his master as he had arrived home quite late in the night and did not wish to be disturbed. It was not exactly clear that the letter was addressed to "Mr. Frederick Darcy" as the direction was written remarkably ill, but the servant knew not who else it could be for. The letter was place on his master's desk.

There it sat along with many other unopened letters, some weeks old. Frederick Darcy was not known for his organizational talents and he often discarded letters when the hand looked unfamiliar to him. Therefore, several weeks later, when he did open the letter, he was shocked and immediately wrote to his cousin, enclosing the enlightening correspondence. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy had left for England in a bleak and troubled frame of mind only a few days before.

* * *

1. I do not know much about it, but the style of music Clara and Emele sang is traditional Breton music called "kan ha diskan" where each line is repeated by the second singer, who begins at the last few syllable of the first signer. If done right, the song moves forward in a rather haunting way. It is similar, in a way, to what we call in English "rounds." 


	23. Chapter 23

A/n - It's a Christmas miracle, I've written another chapter! I won't be able to post again till at least after the new year. Also, I've decided to drop the day count, it doesn't seem to make sense now that they are off the island. When I do a re-write of this story, I may change all that, I dunno.

Happy Holidays!!!

* * *

Chapter 23

It was raining again.

It had been raining all week since the day Darcy's ship landed on the Scottish shore. The carriage ride through England to Pemberley was slow and dirty, but Darcy did not even notice. When he arrived at his estate, he barely grumbled a greeting to Mrs. Reynolds, who had met him at the door with tears of joy in her eyes. Several of the other servants waited anxiously behind her for a glimpse of the man, wanting to see with their own eyes the master they had been told a month before was dead.

He turned back to the round, red face of his housekeeper. "Notify me as soon as Georgiana arrives," he commanded brusquely before retreating to his rooms.

When he entered, he quickly dismissed his valet before tugging in frustration at his cravat and tossing it in the corner. After pouring himself a rather full glass of scotch, and then another, he allowed his weary form to fall into a chair by the fireplace.

"I am a pathetic creature," he admitted, his slightly slurred words spoken aloud to no one but himself. Several moments later, Darcy's eyes fell closed and his breathing slowed, allowing the tortured man some rest.

* * *

Weeks before, Darcy and his cousin were riding across an open field outside of Halifax discussing the prospects of the property. They were both enthusiastic about investing in the estate and the matter was quickly decided upon as they began to travel home.

Not long into their journey, a fierce wind began to blow and shortly after a piercing rain made it nearly impossible for the gentlemen to continue. An argument soon followed between them about whether or not to carry on, but in the end it was Frederick Darcy's reason that won out and the men were forced to stop at a local inn.

They did not return to the Darcy home until late into the night. Mrs. Darcy greeted them with hot tea and blankets, but it did little to warm the irritated heart of Darcy.

Fiona raised an eyebrow at her husband, "Were you not pleased with the property?"

"Oh yes, very much so, it is not that. Fitzwilliam here is only miserable because we did not make it back in time to for him to enjoy a meal with his Miss Bennet."

Darcy gritted his teeth, "Frederick, unlike you, I take my appointments with others very seriously. I am very sure that Miss Bennet was quite agitated at my absence as I very nearly promised her I would be there. I was not even able to send a note!"

"Oh come now, man! She will forgive you, I am sure. It was only one evening and you will have the rest of your lives to torture each other."

Darcy was not listening but staring intently out the window at the now drizzling rain. He quickly found himself alone and decided it was best to retire for the evening so that he may rise early and visit the Huskissons' home as soon as possible.

The next morning found Darcy standing in the Huskissons' parlor staring with eyes of dismay at Mrs. Huskisson.

"Gone! Gone back to England! I apologize, madam, but you must be mistaken."

Emele straightened her back and turned away from him, irritated at his tone. "I am afraid not, Mr. Darcy, their ship left quite early this morning."

"That cannot be! Why was I not informed?"

"That I do not know; I did not discuss the matter with Elizabeth. I assumed that she would have made you aware. If she did not, she must have her reasons." She paused to choose her words, "I believe you were expected here last night, Mr. Darcy."

He cleared his throat, "Yes, I must apologize but the weather keep me from doing so. I had not counted on being detained, nor did I even consider that Miss Bennet would no longer be here in the morning."

They were silent for some time, neither knowing what else to say to each other. Elizabeth was not there and no amount of arguing with Mrs. Huskisson was going to bring her back. He abruptly took his leave, with an exasperated Emele left behind.

He walked as fast as he could, almost running to the shore. Upon reaching the dock, he frantically asked several men if there were any ships leaving for Scotland or England that day. He was told over and over that the ship had left several hours ago. It had to be true; he saw only Naval ships and fishing boats in the harbor. She was gone, and she had gone without even a word to him.

* * *

The passage from Halifax to Scotland could not have been more different than that fateful voyage Elizabeth began at the beginning of the summer. It was smooth, quiet, calming, but also unbearable as she thought only of Darcy and the reaction of her family. She felt almost ill the day she boarded the ship and watched tearfully as they floated away from the western shore towards home.

He did not come to her. She could not know why, but hoped that it was not a purposeful absence. She spent many quiet days on the deck of the ship watching the waves and praying he would come for her as soon as possible. Her uncle had said that it would be difficult for him to obtain a passage so soon and he may not be able to travel for weeks. This meant that she would not see him for over a month.

The thought was excruciating. A tear fell from her eye as a soft voice called her name.

"Elizabeth! Oh dear, I think I have had quite enough of this, you must tell me your troubles." Mrs. Gardiner sat by her niece and gently took her hand. Elizabeth did not wish to burden her aunt, but she felt such an overwhelming need to speak of her thoughts that it all suddenly came pouring out.

"Mr. Darcy and I are to be married!" she said rather quickly and more loudly than she had intended. "I wanted to tell you but I did not think it right to share the news without him. But… but then he did not come that night before we left and I was not sure what to think and…"

"Oh Lizzy, dear, you should have told me! I do not think it would have helped to persuade your uncle to stay in Halifax any longer, but he would have assisted you in inquiring after Mr. Darcy's whereabouts. I understand you must be upset about leaving without saying goodbye."

"I do not know why he did not come." Her tears had stopped; there was a little anger in her voice.

"There was a storm that night, do you remember? I am sure that is what did it; he must have been severely delayed and could not come. We left so early the next morning that he could not have known that we would be gone."

"But I sent him a letter asking him to come, and he did not."

Mrs. Gardiner sighed, "It was very short notice, dear, I am sure if he had received it in time, he would have come." Elizabeth nodded, she believed her aunt's words in her heart but a small part of her still doubted it, if only a little.

"That is not all you are concerned about, is it?"

"No, it is not." She did not continue, but her aunt was a very patient woman and only squeezed her hand and smiled a little as she waited for Elizabeth to decide what to say.

"I had imagined, from the beginning of our engagement and subsequent rescue, that he would be by my side the day I reunited with my family. It gave me strength and helped to quell my fears about their reactions. I believed then that they would not see me as a fallen, abandoned woman who had run away if I had Fitwilliam standing next to me. I was sure that my mother would entirely forget about Mr. Collins and Mr. Wickham as soon as she heard of the engagement. Jane and papa would only be happy for me and not worry in the least when they saw how wonderful my life would now be.

"I am afraid now that I am to arrive alone, their reactions will not be so jovial. My surprise resurrection will not be a comfort to anyone; I can only be a source of gossip and ridicule."

"Elizabeth Bennet, how can you say such nonsense? Of course your return will be a relief to your family. No matter what has occurred, you must not think otherwise. You are too hard on yourself. All that transpired in the spring was not your fault. I know there was a bit of gossip, but it shall not matter now. You are to be married and to a wonderful man I should think, if you have decided on him! Your family will be overjoyed to see you; they love you. We love you! I am sorry that you will not have your Mr. Darcy to support you, but you shall have us. I hope that is some reassurance."

Elizabeth felt a little ashamed for what she had said. "Oh, aunt, yes! Of course it is very comforting to have you with me. I had so wanted to speak to you, but my thoughts were all jumbled in my head and I was afraid they would not come out making much sense. It seems that I was correct in that assumption!" She smiled, "It is only that it has been so long and so much has happened, it is difficult not to think the worst. I promise to think happier thoughts from now on."

"That is wonderful to hear, Lizzy. Now, what do you plan to tell them of your engagement?"

"I am afraid to say anything. He will most likely not be in England for several weeks after we return. If I tell mama anything she will be sure to spread it all over Meryton and before Mr. Darcy has had a chance to appeal to papa. I think it best to wait until he has returned to say anything. It will be harder without the news, but necessary I think."

"I wish I could think differently, but I must agree with you. It would not be proper to share the news without your father's consent. It will be alright, I am sure he will come as soon as he can and then everyone will know you are to be mistress of Pemberley!"


	24. Chapter 24

A/n - Happy New Year everyone!!! A new year, a new chapter. Sorry, no Darcy, but it is a happy chapter. You may notice a few of Miss Austen's words there towards the end.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 24

The carriage rocked uncomfortably as it moved swiftly down the road. Mr. Gardiner had paid the driver a large gratuity to go faster and consequently Elizabeth's nerves and stomach were suffering.

As soon as she and her friends had landed in Scotland, a letter was sent to Longbourn with the news. It could travel faster than they and Elizabeth did not wish for her appearance to be a shock. Her uncle had suggested a day of rest before they started traveling again, but her aunt dismissed the idea as she missed her children dearly and they started their journey only hours after they disembarked. They traveled late into the night and slept only a few hours in a quaint inn before leaving early the next morning only to repeat it all over again.

As they traveled closer and closer to her home, all Elizabeth's fears resurfaced. Her aunt looked at her with a reassuring expression and encouraged Mr. Gardiner to tell them stories of his escapades as a child when he use to torture his older sisters with frogs in their beds or pepper in their tea. He was persuaded by the bright smile on Elizabeth's face and, with the aid of his charming tales, hours had suddenly gone by and they found themselves passing Netherfield, riding through Meryton, and finally stopping in front of the Bennets' door.

There they all stood. All six of her relations were waiting for her as well as the Gardiner's children and all the servants of the house. Jane looked a strange mixture of utter distress and complete happiness, and when their eyes met, Elizabeth burst from the carriage and wrapped her arms around her sister.

"Oh Lizzy, it is a dream, it must be a dream, I do not think I deserve such happiness!" The two sisters dared not separate and suddenly there were several others surrounding them. A hand pulled them apart and Elizabeth abruptly found herself in the arms of her mother.

"My girl has come back to me!" She pushed Elizabeth back and held her by the hands, her face filled with tears, "Now, do not ever do that to me again! Do you understand me, young lady?"

Overwhelmed by such an outburst of emotion from her mother, Elizabeth only nodded before receiving hugs and tearful kisses from her other sisters. Even Lydia was emotional and could not stop jumping up and down every few minutes. "I am so glad you are not dead!" she shrieked at Elizabeth, "It has been so very dreadful here."

Finally, Mr. Bennet emerged from the back of the crowd and when Elizabeth caught his eye she could barely contain the tears. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and placed a light kiss on her forehead. "It is good to have you back, my dear." Then as quietly as he came, he turned and went back into the house.

They all went inside where a feast was waiting for them. The three weary travelers were ravenous and ate rather quickly. Mrs. Bennet chattered on and on while they ate, telling them all the important news that occurred while they were gone. The most important she saved until the end.

"Well, of course, the most wonderful thing has happened while you were not with us, Lizzy. Mr. Bingley has returned!" Elizabeth looked up and turned to Jane, whose cheeks colored. "He came back weeks ago; in fact it was he that told us of your demise. He had heard it in London and came here directly after to tell us. He was so concerned and was such a comfort to us, especially our dear Jane. He came every day to visit with us, rain or shine. Such a diligent man, is he not? Oh, I do believe he will be thrilled to hear that you are alive, Lizzy. Yes indeed! And he will not hesitant to offer to Jane, now that we are not in mourning anymore. Oh, I do detest wearing black, although it is ever so becoming on you Lydia…"

Mrs. Bennet continued speaking, but Elizabeth was no longer listening. She smiled with true joy at Jane who shyly rolled her eyes and rose from the table as supper was now finished.

They all moved to the sitting room where the attention was again turned back to Elizabeth who was suddenly inundated with questions.

"Lizzy, uncle's letter said you were found on a deserted island! How did you live?"

"We made a shelter of sorts from crates and sails."

"We? What do you mean by we?" asked her mother.

Elizabeth hesitated, "Mr. Darcy, mama, we were the only survivors. He saved my life."

"Mr. Darcy! Of all people. Well, I suppose it was not very pleasant, such a disagreeable man."

"On the contrary, he was very kind."

"What did you eat? Not bugs, I heard they eat bugs on those islands."

"No, no, we ate crab, fish, and vegetables, and there was plenty of fresh water."

"What did you do, you much have been dreadfully bored?"

"Not really, Lydia, there was much to do. Each day we had to procure food and prepare it, the shelter was always in need of improvement, I washed our belonging at the waterfall often…"

"A waterfall," cried Kitty, "That sounds very romantic!"

"Yes, it was rather pretty."

"Tell us of the sailors that rescued you, were any of them handsome?"

"I dare say a few of them were," Elizabeth answered with a laugh, "Captain Huskisson is a very good man and his wife and daughter are lovely. I stayed with them in Halifax."

This continued for the rest of the evening. Each of her younger sisters and her mother asked question after question, all of them fascinated by her adventures. By the end of the evening, both Kitty and Lydia were lamenting that they wished that they could be trapped on a deserted island and be saved by brave sailors.

* * *

Elizabeth leaned her head back against the door to her room and held her breath as she waited for the sound of footsteps to cease. Her eyes scanned the space before her. Nothing had changed, not even the pile of books next to her bed.

She was home.

A soft knock startled her, causing her to leap forward and turn around rather hurriedly. "Who is it?"

"Jane." Elizabeth quickly opened the door and grinned freely at her sister.

"Come before the others see you." She grabbed hold of Jane's hand and roughly pulled her forward. "I cannot _bear_ any more questions!" She led Jane to her bed and they sat down in unison.

Jane looked down at her hands, picking her nails, "Oh, I see. I should not bother you then," and she rose to leave.

"Oh Jane! No! Come sit with me, I shall tell you all!" Jane resumed her place next to her sister and took her hands.

"Dearest Lizzy, you must answer me seriously now. Was it dreadful?"

Elizabeth was silent for a moment before smiling somberly. "In the beginning, I must admit, it was. I do not remember much of the storm, but what little I can remember, I wish I did not. There were a few girls I was friendly with on the ship, and I … I saw one of them … after she had died. The next thing I remember is waking up on the beach and Mr. Darcy was there to explain everything."

Jane turned her head slightly to examine Elizabeth before she dared to ask, "It appears we owe Mr. Darcy a huge debt of gratitude. You seem to think very differently of him now compared to a few months ago." She leaned forward. "Are you in love with him?"

Elizabeth's face shot up in complete shock, "Jane!" Her eyes wide, Elizabeth laughed along with her sister.

"Lizzy, I only ask because you speak so little of him. I know you well enough to suppose that if you did not care for him you would have told us more of your time together, but you seemed to have cunningly avoided any details."

"Jane, Jane, I have never given you enough credit for your study of the human character." She laughed; Jane only smiled and waited expectantly. "Very well, I admit it, I am, and very much so! Jane, we are engaged!"

"Oh, Lizzy! I thought it to be true! ---engaged to Mr. Darcy! I must congratulate you. But Lizzy, do tell me, it is not because you feel you ought to marry, having been so alone together for all those weeks. Do you really love him quite well enough? Oh, Lizzy, do any thing rather than marry without affection. Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought to do?"

"Oh yes! You will only think I feel _more_ than I ought to do, when I tell you all."

"What do you mean?"

"Why, I must confess that I love him better than I do your Mr. Bingley. I am afraid you will be angry."

"My dearest sister, now _be_ serious. I want to talk very seriously. Mr. Bingley is a very kind gentleman and has been very good to us, but he is not 'my' Mr. Bingley. I have no expectations from him and he has given me no reason to think I should. Now, tell me every thing that I am to know, without delay. Will you tell me how long you have loved your Mr. Darcy."

"It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began. But I believe I must date it from the moment I discovered that he was my knight in sandy armor!"

"Lizzy!"

The sisters laughed through the night as they stayed awake for several hours talking in detail of _all_ of Elizabeth's adventures. The only displeasure felt was Elizabeth's as she could not persuade her sister to be as forthcoming as she when speaking of the man she loved.


	25. Chapter 25

So ffdotnet has been pretty dumb recently and I haven't been getting any emails from them and it took me a while to get this chapter up. I won in the end though.

Kelsey Estel the TolkieNarnian - Quite a name! Anyway, I completely understand you're dislike of the name Fitzwilliam, and I will admit I used to agree with you. I understand that some women at that time called their fiance or spouse by their last name so it would not be unusual if Elizabeth did, I know Jane does with Bingley towards the end of P&P. But I just couldn't do it, I really felt like Darcy would want her to call him Fitzwilliam, I imagine that he's proud of the name and wants her to call him that as a way of being more intimate. Plus, I really don't think he would like it shortened to Will or William or God forbid Fitz! Anyway, I've quite gotten used to it now and almost think of him as Fitzwilliam myself.

Thanks to you all who read and review! I write and post when I can so it's great to know that I can keep followers without regular posting.

* * *

Chapter 25 

A fierce wind blew across the field, bringing with it an unnaturally chilly light rain. The horse loosely tied to a tree nearby neighed uncomfortably, urging his master to return to shelter. His master did not notice.

Darcy sat against the tree, a letter pressed tightly in his hand. For the first time in his life he felt no motivation ---no inclination for business, and most alarmingly, no interest in his now very concerned sister. He only wished to hide from the world. The absurdity of this wish was not lost on him. He had spent several weeks in isolation praying to be rescued and now that he was, he only wished to return to it.

The letter in his hand was severely creased and the handwriting almost illegible, but Darcy belligerently opened it again to reread its contents.

"Netherfield, July 29.

Darcy!

I was certainly astonished to hear of your survival from Miss Bennet. The pair of you have survived a most interesting tale and I cannot bear it much longer until I have heard it from your point of view. Miss Elizabeth Bennet is not very forthright with the details! When I told her that I heard you had returned to England last week, she ceased speaking to me. Really, you must tell me what happened on that island! In all seriousness, my good friend, it is good to know you are not lost to us. It was a heavy blow indeed when I first heard of your supposed demise.

In any case, Darcy, you must come to Hertfordshire soon and congratulate me in person. I have humbled myself completely and virtually begged the lady to have me, but in the end she most happily consented and in a few months time she will be introduced to the world as Mrs. Jane Bingley.

Please come, or I will have to go to Pemberley and drag you here myself!

Your's, very sincerely,

C. Bingley"

"'_When I told her that I heard you had returned to England last week, she ceased speaking to me,' of course she did. She does not wish to even think of me."_ Darcy leaned his head back against the rough bark of the tree and shoved the letter into the inside pocket of his coat. As he began to search the interior of his clothing for his hidden flask, he heard the rhythmic sound of hooves coming towards him. He rose quickly and ran a hand through his damp hair.

"Georgiana! What on earth are you doing out here in this weather, return home immediately!"

The young woman looked at her brother with a glare that Darcy never thought possible from the usually innocent girl. "Absolutely not, brother!" she replied coldly. "I will not return until you decide to return _with_ me and stop this indolent behavior." She lowered herself to the ground and strode purposefully toward him. Brusquely, she reached down to the ground beside him and picked up his hat. He watched her with keen interest as she then remounted her horse, moved towards his lofty figure, and then with a certain amount of satisfaction placed the hat very curtly on his head. He was blinded momentarily before he readjusted himself, and when he was able to see again he looked up at his sister.

"I should not be allowing you to abuse me so." He said with a slight smile, he could not hide that he was a little impressed with her audacity.

"I know that! That is my point!" Her expression softened, "Now, please return with me, Fitzwilliam. It is time you sorted yourself out and I will help you. I have some experience with this."

Intrigued by her last statement, he untied the reins of his horse and raced his sister through the steady rain.

Once tea had been ordered and a fire started, the Darcy siblings took their seats near each other. Darcy sat stiffly, his eyes fixed on the dancing flames. Such a scene painfully reminded him of another time, one he dearly wished to now forget.

"Well, it seems that I should begin." Georgiana sat opposite her brother, her back perfectly straight and her long fingers wrapped together neatly in her lap. Darcy was shaken from his thoughts and was quite unsure what was occurring. "We have not spoken much since you returned. I tried to be respectful and leave you be, but some things have transpired in your absence that I thought you should be aware of."

She spoke so unemotionally that Darcy had to interrupt, "Georgiana, why are you speaking so? I do not believe I have ever heard you speak in this manner."

She smiled, "I do believe you are correct, but things have changed a little while you were lost in the tropics and if you will let me continue, perhaps you will understand why." Darcy could only nod in astonishment. "Very well. News of your ship's ill fate reached London about six weeks ago. I was visiting with our aunt and uncle at the time when we were all told the news. Aunt fainted straight away. I admit I was without sensation for a time and spent several days in their company quite in denial about it all. Then, against the wishes of our family, I decided it would be best to return to Pemberley on my own. I wanted to be in our home, where I could feel close to you and grieve in my own way. I was a bit like you have been this past week, aloof and unkind.

"It took Wickham to release me from my misery."

"Georgiana!" Darcy rose and peered down enraged at his sister. "What has he done to you this time? I will kill him! Where is he?"

Georgiana laughed, "There now, see, I knew that would get a rise out of you!"

"You, of all people, are mocking me?"

"No! That was not my intention at all. Please sit, Fitzwilliam, and let me continue."

"I will gladly listen to the rest of your narrative, but I cannot sit." Darcy turned away from her and leaned his arm on the fireplace mantle while gritting his teeth.

"Very well, I do prefer you standing rather than the slump I have seen you practice all week." She gracefully sipped her tea. "I was here, alone, having dismissed Mrs. Annesley in my grief. She has since returned, as you may have noticed, I realized my mistake rather quickly and the generous woman has quite forgiven me. Well, alone as I was, I was quite frightened the day Mr. Wickham was introduced into the saloon where I was gloomily staring into the woody hills through the window. I must admit, I knew not how to react. He wore an expression of deep sympathy and attempted to act the perfect gentleman as Thompson had resolutely decided to stay just outside the door. He droned on and on about how he knew how I must be feeling, having lost all his family as well. He called you his 'brother' and spoke of how you had promised him before you had left a large sum to travel to Ireland and begin breeding horses. Though the story was most clearly absurd, I must admit I was taken in by him slightly at first, but then it was his own words that deceived him. He claimed that he had been deeply in love and was to marry but the woman had left him before the wedding and ran off to America after having taken all his money. Now, you must believe what I am about to say, Fitzwilliam, because I know you will doubt me." She paused for only a moment. "I laughed at him; I actually shed tears of joy at his expense. He at first thought me hysterical with grief and Thompson entered the room concerned I was being harmed. I quickly dispelled both of their fears and continued laughing. I knew then that this man, this… horrid man, had no hold on me any longer. I told him so, although you may think less of me if you knew the actual words I used. He left abruptly after abusing your memory and allowing his true character to dictate his language. I returned to London the next day determined not to let anyone hurt me or intimidate me again. You were gone, and there was nothing to be done for it. I was suddenly the heir to a very large estate and had much to do. I admit I left most of the business to your steward, but there were many decisions to make and people to meet with. Fitzwilliam, I certainly have never given you credit for all that you have done."

Darcy had been silently during the whole of his sister's tale. He knew not how to react. The story he had just heard was wholly unbelievable but he knew it to be true. His steward had mentioned upon his return a curious statement about Georgiana's abilities, but at that point he was barely listening to what anyone was saying to him. And Wickham! His audacity knew no bounds. He had actually tried to extract money and God knows what else from his grieving sister. The man was heartless!

"Fitzwilliam, do you have nothing to say?"

Darcy turned to his sister and slowly returned to the seat opposite her. With a warm smile, he shook his head. "You have astounded me. I cannot speak but only to say I have never been more proud. I suppose it had to occur at some point, it seems it is the Darcy way to grab the reins when tragedy calls for it. I am sorry that it had to fall to you."

"It turned out all for the best, did it not? I have learned to conquer my fears and you have returned home, all is well." The last she spoke with an ironic tone and she was silent in anticipation of an explanation from Darcy.

Before he could find the will to begin, he sipped his now cold tea, grimaced, and then strode over to the corner of the room where an inviting bottle of scotch sat waiting for him. When he returned to his seat, Georgiana eyed him disapprovingly, but he ignored her and turned his eyes once again to the fire, which cast a peculiar crimson cast about his face.

"The young lady that… Wickham spoke of, I know her. She was on the same ship as I, we were the only survivors, and it was with her that I lived with on a deserted island for several weeks before we were rescued and brought to Halifax."

Georgiana's face became white, "He was telling the truth!"

"Oh no, never believe him capable of that. It was he that left her, and there was certainly no money on either side that could be taken from the other."

"She told you all this?"

"She did."

"And you believe her?"

Darcy looked up in resentment, "Of course I do."

"Because you love her?" He did not answer. "Fitzwilliam, I know better than anyone else that love will cause you to believe the best in people, can you be certain?"

"I have no doubt on this! Is that clear?"

Georgiana paused to match her brother's gaze. "Very. So you do love her then."

Darcy looked away. He did not wish to discuss the matter with his younger sister; a person he never thought would question his judgment on anything. How could she possibly understand? He looked up at her again. She looked much older to him now. She seemed to carry herself differently, her expression knowing and unafraid. She looked like their mother.

"Yes," he responded finally.

"But she does not love you?"

He cleared his throat. "I thought she did once, but I was mistaken. I concede that are correct, love can deceive you."

"Please, Fitzwilliam, tell me all that has occurred. We can work it out together as we once did for me only a year ago." She reached across the gap between them and took his hand. She truly did look an awful lot like their mother.

And so he told her most, although not all, of his story. She was quiet for a time after. She rang for more tea and joined her brother in his inspection of the fire's flames.

"There is certainly a reasonable explanation, Fitzwilliam, we just have not thought of it yet." This brought only a minor smile to her brother's face. She was determined to try harder. "Perhaps something of an urgent nature forced her to leave rather quickly."

"Doubtful. I have received word from Bingley who is now rather intimate with her family having engaged himself to her elder sister. He has made no mention of anything alarming occurring."

"Perhaps she left word with the family she was staying with or a letter with your cousin."

"No, neither."

"But it must be something, if you love her, if you truly love her you must discover the truth!"

"I know the truth, Georgiana, I pushed her too hard. She refused me; I would not accept it and she finally consented out of… a sense of obligation or something of the sort. When she reunited with her family she sought her escape. She obviously wants nothing to do with me or she would have left word."

"But even if she wanted to sever ties with you, would she not have told you, even in a letter. There must be more to it, I am certain."

"And I am certain you are wrong! I do not wish to discuss it anymore. I wish to retire for the evening." He rose to leave.

"Fitzwilliam!"

Darcy paused at the doorway, his hand on the handle. "Forgive me. Please excuse me; I believe I have said enough on the subject." He sighed, "Georgiana, I appreciate your concern, but nothing is to be done except to move on and I thank you for inspiring me to do so. Good night."


	26. Chapter 26

A/n - I can't remember who asked me, but someone wanted to know which actors I picture for my Elizabeth and Darcy. I have to admit that I don't, I actually have my very own version of them in my head. I think a long time ago I could not imagine anyone else but Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle, but they have since morphed and when I read the book I have a different couple in my head and they are the ones I use in my story. Interestingly enough, Elizabeth has grown to look more and more like myself :)

* * *

Chapter 26

Elizabeth sat perfectly still, her face buried in her hands, the rock beneath her jagged and painful. She took no notice but only tried to make herself as small and as imperceptible as possible. She had no desire to speak to anyone, but to hide from them for all eternity, or at least until supper time.

She had been so happy when she had returned home, and everyone had been so happy with her. Even her mother, though still scheming and chattering as always, seemed quite joyful to be around. She was glad to be with her family, a feeling she had forgotten she knew how to feel. She did not even mind when her mother and sisters probed her for more stories about her time away from them. She merely blushed, but smiled broadly to herself, the day her mother realized that she had truly been alone with Mr. Darcy all those weeks and "surly he must be made to marry her when he returns!" The laughter and the harmony amongst chaos brought on thoughts of that depressing time before she left and Elizabeth, for the first time, questioned her reasons for leaving in the first place.

The only distress in her home life was the response to her return by her father. He barely spoke and hardly looked at her. He was civil and smiled lightly when she addressed him, but his answers were short and had none of the sarcasm and teasing of the past. He never invited her into his study for a private talk after her homecoming to discuss her reasons for leaving or what had occurred while she was gone. He never addressed her first or sought out her conversation, and, if possible, he was even more distant with her mother and sisters. It was painful to think on, but Elizabeth knew she had disappointed him and when she tried to speak of it, he waved his hand at her, frowned, and walked out of the room.

Jane tried to be of some comfort by explaining that he treated them all the same, that he was not singling her out with his behavior, but Elizabeth could not agree. He had always singled her out before and now she was merely like the others, another flighty and overly-dramatic woman, she had proven that with her actions. She was not his favorite anymore.

Despite all that, she found much happiness with her home life. Mr. Bingley arrived almost everyday and an announcement was expected soon. Elizabeth found his presence quite diverting and enjoyed teasing him and her sister by making sly implications.

The three of them were walking together through a wooded path one day speaking of the curious mating patterns of geese, when Bingley suddenly paused in his step and turned to Elizabeth.

"Well, Miss Elizabeth, you may be interested to know that I have received word that our friend Mr. Darcy has returned to England!"

Elizabeth dearly wished she could have been less affected by his words, but she colored deeply and tried intensely to think of something witty as a response. She thought on it too long, however, and was saved from further embarrassment by her sister.

"That is wonderful news! Do you know if he is well?"

"Oh, I do not know the particulars, but I do not believe Darcy capable of being ill. My sister, Caroline, heard of his return last week in London. Apparently, he returned and traveled straight to Pemberley, much to the dissatisfaction of many in London. I received a peculiarly short note from him yesterday, indicating that he was alive and home and was not receiving any visitors. Not a four syllable word within it, quite vexing. I shall write to him and insist he come to Hertfordshire! Do you think that a good plan, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth was momentarily stunned by all that was said and did not notice that she was being addressed. She looked up into the quizzical eyes of Mr. Bingley and blinked unnaturally several times before muttering, "Yes… yes, of course." The pair before her stared at her pale face with concerned expressions.

"Lizzy, are you alright, would you like to return home?"

"No! Jane, no. I would like to sit though, I am afraid I am not up to much walking today." She was led to a nearby fallen tree. "I will only sit here for a few moments, you go on without me. I shall recover soon." She tried to smile sweetly, but Jane was not convinced by it. Bingley, however, was quite happy to continue on alone with Miss Bennet and he took her arm and led her down the path, around the corner, and soon out of sight. Elizabeth sat alone and smiled to herself. _"He will come soon!"_

Later that evening, the Bennet house was all shrieks of joy and tears of happiness. Even Elizabeth was shaken from her unusual bout of faintness to join in on the celebration, her mother the most exultant.

"Oh! my dear, dear Jane, I am so happy! I am sure I shan't get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it would be. I always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not be so beautiful for nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw him, when he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought how likely it was that you should come together. Oh! he is the handsomest young man that ever was seen!"

Even Mr. Bennet joined them, and when he emerged from his study, he had a small yet sincere smile on his lips. "Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman." He then endured a kiss from his eldest daughter before turning back and returning to his solitude.

The family separated for the night and Jane drew Elizabeth to her bed, speaking only of her dear Bingley and of all the particulars of his declarations of love.

"I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!" cried Jane. "Oh! Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family, and blessed above them all! If I could but see _you_ as happy!" She took her sister's hands, "I have spoken to Mr. Bingley on the matter." She noted her sisters concern, "Oh, do not worry, I did not mention your particular reason for wanting to see him. I only mentioned that Mr. Darcy would be a welcome addition to our circle if he wished to visit and that Mr. Bingley should write to him straight away. He took me quite seriously and promised to write this evening. See now, he shall be here soon. I am certain of it."

But Jane's assurances and Elizabeth's hopes proved all for naught. He did not come. Several weeks passed and their only intelligence on the matter came from Bingley, who mentioned in passing that Darcy was determined to stay where he was and not to expect him.

Elizabeth was devastated. She was confused and hurt and a thousand questions and nonsensical explanations constantly penetrated through her mind. She strived to remain composed in the presence of others, but it was a struggle and she continuously sought seclusion within the woods of Longbourn. The only one to notice her unhappiness and try to comfort her was Jane, but she was not a constant supporter for while her lover was present, Jane had no attention to bestow on any one else. When Bingley was gone, Jane continuously sought means of relief from Elizabeth by speaking of little else but him. Elizabeth thought it best not to be a course of distress to his sister in such times of happiness, and spoke none of her true feelings.

Thus she found herself often sitting on a jagged rock in the healthy forest surrounding her home, tears on her cheeks, her handkerchiefs stained. It was in this state she was heard and discovered by a dark figure curiously roaming the wood.

"Are those tears for me?" came a deep voice from behind her. Elizabeth's breath ceased and she quickly rose and turned to confirm her suspicions.

"I have been gone for some time, I would have thought you had moved on," said the man, a smile forming in one corner of his mouth.

"You would be accurate in that assessment, Mr. Wickham." Elizabeth back away slightly and harshly wiped the tears from her face.

Wickham's expression softened as he reached out a hand. "Come now, Elizabeth, you must not blame me, it was a misunderstanding. But now that I have returned, I will prove to you my devotion; I am determined to be an exemplary husband."

"Husband? You cannot possibly expect me to marry now, most certainly not!" cried Elizabeth, her sorrow now forgotten for the rage in her heart.

"Dear, now be reasonable." He smiled derisively, "I see now that you expect me to speak of regret and flatter you with delicacy." He lowered himself to his knees and brought his hands together in front of him in an absurdly mocking pose. "Elizabeth Bennet, do forgive me for my deplorable behavior. Elizabeth, the most beautiful women I have ever beheld, will you forgive me and take my hand, making me the happiest of men?"

Elizabeth's mouth hung open in astonishment. "What can you mean by coming here with this display?"

He rose, now slightly agitated. "I wish to hold you to your promise from the spring. I wish to have you as my wife."

"I believe that promise was broken, sir, the day you left Hertfordshire. The day, I might add, before we were to be wed!" She turned away from him, not wishing to look into his dishonest eyes.

"Elizabeth, you must understand it was impossible for us to wed in the spring. We would have been most unhappy, neither of us with any money to speak of. I thought I had made it perfectly clear in my letter that I thought it best to hold off the wedding until I had the proper funds to make you a suitable husband. Did you not comprehend that?"

"No! I most certainly did not!" She stormed towards him. "I thought your letter made it perfectly clear that my lack of funds made it impossible for us to marry at _any_ time. You, sir, are a liar and I will not bind myself to you. Leave me!"

Wickham's continence changed at the mention of her accusations and he brutally reached for her wrist. Grabbing it, he pulled her towards him, ignoring her disgusted remarks. "Miss Bennet, I am afraid that if you do not cooperate with me, I will be forced to take desperate measures."

"And what could they possibly be?" She struggled to free herself.

He brought his face very close to hers. "I know where you were and whom you were with. You would have everyone believe that you lived alone on that island with Darcy and nothing happened. I am not so daft, you forget I know Darcy, and I know how he feels about you." He tightened his grip. "I saw the way he looked at you last fall, and I recognized that look in his eye, I know when his heart is touched."

"What are you saying?"

"Despite what occurred last spring, I still have quite a few friends here in Meryton and I have already mentioned to them my thoughts on you and Darcy's time together. They already thought very little of him and it did not take much to convince them that he had taken advantage of you and that I, the man you truly love, have to come to rescue you."

Elizabeth was silent for a moment and thought herself trapped once again, but she was not forsaken in ideas for long. "And what sort of friends could you have left, sir? You owe much money in this area, and my father thought it not necessary to pay off your debts after you removed yourself. I cannot fathom that any 'gallant' words of yours would be taken seriously by the people of Meryton. And how dare you threaten me with gossip and slander, you forget I have already endured that and I shall again, I do not need _your_ protection."

"Yes, you endured it so well that you chose to run away. You are quite the formidable woman, are you not?"

"My reasons for leaving are none of your concern. Now release me!" Seeing his scheme was not achieving the desired result, Wickham reluctantly set her free, and rubbing her wrist, Elizabeth stared with penetrating eyes at the frustrated man before her.

"I believe I understand you completely now." She spoke with a confident tone that jarred Wickham slightly. "You have no friends or money to speak of, and you have become desperate. You heard of my sister's engagement to Mr. Bingley and thought you could convince me to marry you and then live in the constant support of his generous nature." She paused and Wickham looked away while fidgeting with his cuff. "I see I am correct. Well, Mr. Wickham, _that_ shall never occur. You shall remain friendless and alone forever. You, sir, are a deplorable man. I will pray that someday you will learn to be a true gentleman."

And with one final shake of the head, Elizabeth left him alone in the forest, hoping to never see or hear from him again.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Unfortunately for Elizabeth, Wickham was not so easily removed from her life. While she did not see him, it was heard that he was staying in the area. As a result, she decided to reduce the frequency of her visits into the village. It was easy to do as Mr. Bingley was often with the family and any walks she took with the couple were often to a secluded area where Elizabeth could wonder off and leave Jane and Bingley to their own devices. She did not speak of Wickham to anyone, even when she heard her younger sisters whispering about him. There was a moment when she almost went to her father to discuss his return, but she decided against it knowing that it would be a difficult conversation and she could not bear to be dismissed by her father one more time.

Upon their return from one of their rambles, Jane, Bingley and Elizabeth were met in the hall by a crying Kitty who pushed past them and ran out the door. Lydia was found by the stairs looking haughty and was quickly asked by Jane if Kitty needed assistance.

"Oh, la! Do not worry yourself about her; she is only envious of me, as usual."

Elizabeth was suspicious of Lydia's tone. "And what did you do to set her off this time?"

Lydia's countenance turned aghast. "I did nothing of the sort, I will have you know! We were in Miss Rose's shop when we saw something we both wanted, but only one of us could have. I, of course, was the victor and Kitty cannot stand it."

"Perhaps next time you could be a little more kind to Kitty, she has not the composure for competition. And such games cannot promote sisterly affection," Elizabeth spoke while knowing her words were mostly likely in vain.

Lydia smiled furtively, "Once you see my prize you will be jealous of me too, you wait and see."

Elizabeth could only shake her head in annoyance and decided the best thing to do would be to ignore her youngest sister. She proceeded with Jane and Bingley to the sitting room and promptly forgot the petty problems of Kitty and Lydia as her thoughts drifted to those of a certain gentlemen.

* * *

Darcy sat behind his large mahogany desk, his forehead resting within his hands, papers piled around him. He had spent a large portion of the day reading and responding to the many correspondences that had piled up over the summer. He had put off much of it, but enough time had passed that it was almost rude for him to delay it any longer.

Over the weeks since his return, he had neglected much of his duties, many of them falling to Georgiana. She was more than happy to release some of the burden off his shoulders, but she was concerned that it was enabling his careless behavior.

Unfortunately, it took a fire at one of his tenant's homes to force Darcy to take back control of his life and his responsibilities. He felt accountable for the condition of the home that was destroyed and immediately sought to rectify his past negligence. He spent days helping to rebuild and then traveled about the countryside to ensure that precautions were taken at all his tenants' homes to prevent a similar occurrence. After that week, he settled himself down at his desk and began to work through the large pile in front of him. The task was daunting and his gracious sister offered to assist him, an offer that he initially turned down.

It was late in the evening, and Georgiana appeared in the doorway only to find her exhausted brother leaning over his work, his eyes closed. She quietly walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Darcy was shaken from his slumber, "The price of corn is rising steadily…" he mumbled.

"Fitzwilliam, while that is most fascinating and I would love to discuss the matter with you in full, I think it is best you retire for the evening."

A disheveled Darcy looked up at his sister in confusion for a moment before rubbing his hands over his face and smiling. "It appears that I dozed off, thank you for waking me."

Georgiana could not help but smile back at him. "I am proud of you, brother, for all your hard work over the past few weeks. The Dixon family is grateful for all that you did for them. I believe they are almost happy that the fire occurred, for they acquired a much nicer home as a result of it!"

"Perhaps, but if it were not for my inattention to my duties perhaps their old home could have been repaired or updated without the distress that they were forced to endure."

"You must not blame yourself!"

"I do not, truly, as I did not start the fire. I am merely ruminating over my actions." Darcy sighed and leaned back, eyeing the mass of completed correspondences to his right.

Georgiana spied the pile and could not help but exclaim, "Fitzwilliam, look at all you have done. Come now, you must rest and put the remainder off till the morning."

Darcy patted his sister's hand. "I am inclined to agree with you. I have but only two letters before me, and neither is particularly urgent."

This made Georgiana curious. "They are not business then, but personal," she said perhaps with too much interest.

"You are both right and wrong. One is from our cousin, Frederick Darcy, with whom I resided with in Halifax. Judging from the thickness of his missive, it is most likely concerning our business venture there." He paused and barely muttered the next, "The other is from Bingley."

"Mr. Bingley!" cried Georgiana, now quite eager to keep her brother awake, "Oh, do open it!"

"Georgiana, please do not press the issue, his letters often bring me pain and I would like to rest tonight without thinking of it."

His sister stood resolutely, her chin risen up and her lip pursed. "Fitzwilliam, he is your friend, what if he has something of importance to share?"

Darcy closed his eyes and leaned forward, not wanting to look at her. "Georgiana, do not mask your true interest, you only wish to know if he writes of her, and I only wish to not read of it."

"Very well." Her brows creases for a moment before a devious smile gradually formed on her lips. "Then, may I?"

"May you what?" He looked up at her suspiciously.

She gestured towards the letter, "May I read it. Then I shall relate to you all that it says while omitting certain parts that would bring you pain."

He was incredulous at first and opened his mouth to object, but then thought for a moment on the matter. "You present an interesting proposal. Although I would normally consider it inappropriate for you to read my personal correspondence, I do not believe Bingley capable of writing anything offensive." He picked up the letter and handed it out to her. "Here, you may read it and as you do so I will attempted to decipher Frederick's handwriting."

Georgiana took the letter in earnest and sat in the chair by his desk. Each sibling opened their letters in synchronization, Darcy with far less interest than his sister.

Then, in less than a minute, both were standing and exclaiming, "No!" before looking up at the other with concern. Darcy was horrified by the look on his sister's face and went to her.

"What is it?" He took the letter from her and read.

"Darcy,

I find I am barely able to write. Several days ago I arrived at Longbourn, as is my usually habit, to visit my dear Jane. I found the house quiet chaotic. Something has occurred of a most unexpected and serious nature and it concerns the youngest, Lydia. I know not how to put it delicately, so I must just write it. She has run off with a man, a man I know you to be well acquainted with, a Mr. Wickham. It was believed from the letter that she left behind that they were gone to Scotland to marry, but now it seems clear that that has not occurred. Mr. Bennet traveled to London not long after the discovery and with the help of his brother, Mr. Gardiner, they have tirelessly searched. I was asked to stay behind, despite my insistence on going, as I could be more help to Jane and her family at this time. But Darcy, surely more can be done! I know you never spoke of particulars, but you of all people know of Wickham's character. I plead of you to assist us and write if you have any concept of where they might have gone. I need not ask for your discretion.

Your's, &c,

C. Bingley"

Darcy fell back into his chair, his hand instinctively drawn to his mouth as he stared into the dark corner of the room. Very suddenly, he rose and began to vigorously pace the length of the room; his brow contracted, his air gloomy. Georgiana knew not what to say, she had not finished the letter before her brother removed it from her hands, but she had read enough.

"It is my fault," she said in a hushed voice, "_I_ who knew what he was, yet I still insisted that none of if be known."

"Georgiana! Do not speak so! There was nothing for you to insist upon, I would not have it any other way."

"And look what is the result! He has taken in another young woman, a sister to the woman you love. Had his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all, all too late now." She rose and turned away from him, her arms crossed at her chest.

Darcy ceased all movement and sighed deeply, desperately trying to think of the proper thing to say to calm her. He could think of nothing but the truth. "You are correct in all but the last." She turned back to him and gazed at him inquisitively.

"Perhaps I should have explained some part of it only and that would have been enough." He stepped forward, reassurance in his eyes, "I did tell one person though, I told Elizabeth."

Georgiana's mouth opened slightly, now quite concerned about the idea of anyone knowing and she hesitated before asking, "Do you think she may have told anyone?"

"That I cannot know, but I think not. I suspect even she thought it not necessary to share." He put his arms about her shoulders. "But something can be done."

"But, Fitzwilliam, how?"

Darcy released her and strode over to his desk to organize his completed business in a hurried fashion. "I must find them and return the foolish girl to her family; perhaps I will not be too late."

"Find them? But they could be anywhere!"

"Not true. Wickham has few friends and those he does have will offer him little support without a reward. I, on the other hand, can offer them just that."

"You do not mean to bribe people into helping you?"

Darcy momentarily ceased his actions to look up at his young sister. "Georgiana, I understand that you have been through quite a lot over the past few months, but honestly, you still have much to learn about the world."

Georgiana could only pout at his statement and watch him continue with his work. It was only a few moments later when she noticed the letter from their cousin Frederick sitting on the corner of his desk. "Fitzwilliam?"

"Yes?" He did not look up.

"Before, when I was reading Mr. Bingley's letter, you reacted rather strongly to something that _you_ were reading. What was it that Frederick had to say?"

Darcy only flinched slightly, but otherwise carried on without hesitation. "Nothing of consequence. He was merely forwarding me some information."

"May I ask the nature?"

"No, you may not."

Georgiana knew that if the subject was anything other than Elizabeth that her brother would not be so obstinate. She made a sudden and rash decision and quickly reached for the folded letter. She held it in her hands for only a moment and read only a piece at the end,

"Please, Fitzwilliam, come! Come quickly!"

Then, just as swiftly as she had grasped it, the letter was taken from her hands. Darcy did not speak but gave her one dark glare before folding the letter within that with which it came and placing it forcefully into his pocket.

"It was from her, was it not?" Darcy did not answer, but he had no need. "I knew it! See, she loves you, and she wrote to you to tell to come to her! Oh! but you never got it, oh how tragic! How romantic! You must go to her!"

"I cannot."

"But you must!"

"Georgiana, no!" His last words were gruff and booming. They effectively put an end to his sister's bout of fluttering and excitement.

With his work complete, he made towards the door before turning back to her and allowing his expression to soften. "I will, I promise you, but I have made a grave error that I must correct first. Without doing so, I have no hope."

"You cannot believe that."

"I must and I do, I could not live with myself otherwise."


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Elizabeth shifted in a vain attempted to make herself comfortable in the ancient and well used chair adjacent to her father's. He had asked her to follow him into the library and there she sat as she watched Mr. Bennet sort through a pile of paperwork on the table. Her eyes wondered to the tall bookshelves lining the room. She had spent little time in this room since her return and had missed the smell of leather, the small collection near the floor of her favorites, and most especially the many conversations she and her father had shared in this very room.

She had avoided even stepping inside, although she had many times the inclination to in order to retrieve something of interest to read. Inevitably, she would decide against it. Her father and she had made an unspoken agreement to avoid each other, and in order to do so meant she must keep away from the library.

But that afternoon after tea, he had quietly and resolutely requested that she follow him, and shortly after she found herself anxiously waiting for him to address her, her hands neatly folded in her lap, her thoughts on the past.

Finally, she heard her father mutter, "Ah ha! Here is it." He walked back over to her and sat down, holding out a letter to her. "I received this letter yesterday morning, and as it concerns you, I have decided it is best that you read it."

She colored, unable to make out whom the writer could be, but a fleeting thought of Mr. Darcy passed through her mind before being quickly dismissed. Hesitantly, she took the letter and unfolded it.

The letter, having been written by their cousin, Mr. Collins, began with haughty and near scolding remarks concerning the recent scandal and subsequent marriage of her youngest sister, Lydia.

It had been nearly a month since Lydia's disappearance and a fortnight since her discovery. Shortly after Mr. Bennet had returned home from weeks of searching through London with Mr. Gardiner, a letter from the latter arrived assuring them that Lydia was found, was safe, and would be married to Mr. Wickham from London in a matter of days.

Mrs. Bennet was overwhelmed by her happiness upon hearing that her favorite was to be married. "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!—My good, kind brother!—I knew how it would be—I knew he would manage every thing. How I long to see her! and to see dear Wickham too! But the clothes, the wedding clothes! I will write to my sister Gardiner about them directly. Lizzy, my dear, run down to your father, and ask him how much he will give her. Stay, stay, I will go myself. 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!"

But Mr. Bennet soon appeared in the doorway and very swiftly announced that under no circumstances would Lydia or "that man" be allowed in his home. Mrs. Bennet was shocked at his words but continued to blather on about where Mr. and Mrs. Wickham would live and how she could not wait another moment before sharing the news with her sister, Mrs. Phillips. This continued for some days but somehow, although it happened rather infrequently, Mr. Bennet's decision was respected. After that, Elizabeth only heard of her sister Lydia through the little that Kitty shared from her letters or when her mother would moan and cry a little for the daughter she "will probably never see again!"

These thoughts are what occupied Elizabeth's mind as she read the letter from her critical cousin. She had to admit to herself that while she thought her father's decision was rash, she was relieved by it and had hoped to tell him so. She looked up at her father briefly after finishing a particularly long paragraph from Mr. Collins instructing Mr. Bennet on his moral duties as a father. He was staring out of the window, his face unreadable. Elizabeth sighed and read on.

The letter continued with congratulations on the approaching nuptials of her elder sister.

"Having thus offered you the sincere congratulations of Mrs. Collins and myself on this happy event, let me now add a short hint on the subject of another; of which we have been advertised by the same authority. Your daughter Elizabeth, it is presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after her elder sister has resigned it, and the chosen partner of her fate may be reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages in this land. My motive for cautioning you is as follows. We have reason to imagine that his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look on the match with a friendly eye."

After reading this, Elizabeth took in a quick and audible breathe, which drew the attention of her seemingly detached father. She finished the letter quickly, although there was little else of import. When she was finished, she lowered the letter to her lap and gazed up at her father with astonishment.

"I think I have surprised you," said Mr. Bennet, barely moving in his seat. Elizabeth could only nod.

"I was not expecting that," he added.

Elizabeth's expression altered from a look of sincere shock to guarded confusion. "Were you not?"

"I think it would be rather silly of anyone to be so."

Elizabeth looked away, the buried anger for her father in her heart beginning to surface. "And why is that?"

"Because, my dear, you lived with a man, that man to which our cousin refers to, _alone_ for several weeks. It should not come as a shock to you that others would assume some sort of arrangement has been made between you." He looked away, "Many would assume more."

"If _some people_ feel so inclined to make assumptions of _that_ nature, perhaps it would have been more appropriate for them to _ask _me!"

Mr. Bennet rose quickly and turned completely away from her, his figure in the window blocked much of the light in the room. With his hands clenched firmly at his back, his stance was reminiscent of another. It was some time before he spoke.

"You know little, no, you know _nothing_ of what it was like here after… Your mother, well, she did not speak, not to me, not to your sisters. In any other circumstance, I would have rejoiced at this, but then it only meant empty silence. You—," he turned back to face her, "You left us, with little hope of ever seeing you again. This action almost destroyed our family! And when we received word that your ship went down, well, there are no words to describe our devastation. You have brought me much pain, you must have known what you have done would bring us pain, you cannot be so foolish."

Elizabeth, with tears in her eyes, looked down in shame. She could not deny the truth, but still she clung to her former resolutions. "Whatever pain I brought upon you by leaving could not compare to the pain I provoked by my presence here. It was felt, acutely, at every moment of every day."

"Do not try and excuse yourself, you had many options before, and abandoning your family should not have been one of them!"

"What were my options, I had none other! I could not go London and stay with the Gardiners or to Kent to stay under the _condescending_ eye of Mr. Collins. Those would be only temporary solutions and at the time…"

"Yes, 'at the time,' as you say. You must admit that from the perspective of the future those 'temporary solutions' could have meant all the world. Even your impetuous travels across the sea have only been temporary, and judging from your general merry disposition, such a short-lived escape seems to have fixed everything." His tone was more than sarcastic, it was stinging.

"I find it impossible to agree."

"How so?"

"This is surely the longest conversation we have had since my return; I consider that far from mended. And judging from your harsh attitude, things are quite worse."

"Yes, I could not agree with you more. Not only have you brought even more pain and humiliation to this family by your decision to leave, but also implications of further shame. When were you planning of giving me the details of your relationship with Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth's scarlet cheeks quickly altered to a pale white. She knew not what to answer. In the beginning, she only meant to conceal their engagement but since she had come to realize that Mr. Darcy had no intentions of coming back to her, she wished to try and forget it all. She opted for a rather infantile answer. "You never asked."

Mr. Bennet could not help but laugh derisively, "And you thought it necessary for me to?"

Elizabeth stood, "Yes! You have made it quite clear since my return that you had no desire to see or speak to me. What would you have me do?"

"Come to me like an obedient daughter and tell your father the truth!"

Elizabeth was irate and confused, she could not understand how he could have been waiting for her to speak to him, and all the while she was waiting for him to come and speak to her. Finally, she sighed. "It appears that we were waiting for the same thing. I was I expected you to come to me."

Mr. Bennet made a movement to speak; it appeared as though a tirade was about to burst from him, but he remained silent and eventually calmed down. "Elizabeth, sit." She reluctantly complied. "I do not wish to speak anymore nonsense. Please tell me what I wish to know. What has occurred between yourself and Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath, which she exhaled with a shutter. "Papa, I have told this story again and again to mama and the others, must I again…"

"That is not what I wish to hear. I want to know all that you have ommited." He came close to her and was standing over her.

"Very well." She paused, "For a short time, nearly from the moment we were rescued, Mr. Darcy and I were engaged."

"Were? And how is it that you are no longer?"

"I returned to England several weeks before him. I expected to hear from him soon after his return. I did not. It has been several months."

"I see." Mr. Bennet closed his eyes. "And did he… Did he ever hurt you in any way?"

"Oh! Papa, no! Never! He is a good man, the best of men."

"I can hardly believe a man that would abandon his fiancé without a word to be 'the best of men'."

"I can understand how you would think that way, but I cannot. Mr. Darcy is a good man, and honorable man. I suspect he has some explanation and until I know what that is, I will not think ill of him."

"You are determined to pine after a man that clearly wants nothing to do with you! You truly are a silly girl. You almost marry a man I know you could not love, and you love a man that you cannot marry."

"I have the smallest hope, and this letter, this odious yet wonderful letter gives me that hope."

Mr. Bennet, out of exhaustion or defeat, sat with a slump into his chair. "Elizabeth, I know not what to say to you. You have a foolish passion that I pity yet almost admire." He turned to her and gazed at her encouraged expression. "You are my daughter, and you always will be. This business I now consider concluded, let us not speak of it again and go on with our simple lives." He patted her hand lightly. "Ring me when it is time for supper, will you?"

Completely unsatisfied with the conversation but most willing for it to come to an end, Elizabeth rose and quickly exited the room. Later, as she sat beneath a tree and picked at the grass, she thought with an assortment of emotions that she was glad she and her father spoke, but knew things between them would never be as they once were.

* * *

A/n – Ug, there I posted it. I didn't really want to write this chapter, I like angst but not this much, but I felt it was important that Mr. Bennet not be shone in such a great light. I'm not a huge fan of his character, as many are. Anyhoo, I must ask again that my readers, who I am ever so grateful to, be patient with me. I truly post as often as I can, but with work and school and family stuff, my ff writing must take a back seat. I promise that I will finish this story and not go more that a few weeks at most without posting. I can admit that the end is in sight though. 


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Elizabeth was sitting by the window, a ray of light warming the curve of her neck as she read a long awaited letter from her dear friend, Mrs. Collins. Her words brought joy as Charlotte relayed the news that an addition to the family would be arriving by Christmas. Elizabeth was elated for her friend and prayed for her health and happiness, knowing a child could only aid in completing the dream Charlotte had for herself but never believed was possible. Despite the pleasure Elizabeth felt upon hearing the news, she could not envy her friend, for the child's father more than dissuaded any feelings of jealousy.

As Elizabeth mused on the ridiculousness of Mr. Collins fretting over the proper attire for his child in the presence of Lady Catherine, her sister, Kitty, sat at the opposite end of the room, also reading a letter. This correspondence, which caused much more laughter and smiles than Elizabeth's did, was from their recently married sister, Lydia.

Elizabeth thought often of writing to her youngest sister in an effort to warn her of her new husband's manipulative ways, but never found the nerve believing her words would go unheeded. Her worry gave way to curiosity and she looked up at Kitty and bit her lip before asking, "May I read Lydia's letter?"

Kitty flustered a bit before folding the letter in her lap and fingering a piece of hair at her temple. "Um, well, you see, the letter is addressed to me, and I really do not think Lydia would like me to allow anyone else to read it." Her face colored a little before she continued, "There are some parts that, well, she would not like you to read."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, understanding completely what Kitty was implying, and agreeing that she would not like the read _those_ parts. "Then will you consent to reading part of it to me, I dearly would like to hear about her."

"As would I," said a voice from the doorway. Jane floated into the room and sat near Elizabeth. Her appearance, though still delicate and beautiful, was not as formal as usual. Elizabeth remembered that Mr. Bingley would not be visiting today, as he had business in town.

"Alright" answered Kitty before fumbling with the pages. Finally she decided on a passage. "Here! She gives yet another account of the wedding. She mentions it in every letter.

'We were married, you know, at St. Clement's, because Wickham's lodgings were in that parish. And it was settled that we should all be there by eleven o'clock. My uncle and aunt and I were to go together; and the others were to meet us at the church. Well, Monday morning came, and I was in such a fuss! I was so afraid, you know, that something would happen to put it off, and then I should have gone quite distracted. And there was my aunt, all the time I was dressing, preaching and talking away just as if she was reading a sermon. However, I did not hear above one word in ten, for I was thinking, you may suppose, of my dear Wickham. I longed to know whether he would be married in his blue coat.

'Well, and so we breakfasted at ten as usual; I thought it would never be over; for, by the bye, you are to understand, that my uncle and aunt were horrid unpleasant all the time I was with them. If you'll believe me, I did not once put my foot out of doors, though I was there a fortnight. Not one party, or scheme, or any thing. To be sure London was rather thin, but, however, the Little Theatre was open. Well, and so just as the carriage came to the door, my uncle was called away upon business to that horrid man Mr. Stone. And then, you know, when once they get together, there is no end of it. Well, I was so frightened I did not know what to do, for my uncle was to give me away; and if we were beyond the hour, we could not be married all day. But, luckily, he came back again in ten minutes' time, and then we all set out. However, I recollected afterwards that if he _had_ been prevented going, the wedding need not be put off, for Mr. Darcy might have done as well.'"

"Mr. Darcy!" repeated Elizabeth, in utter amazement.

"Oh no!" cried Kitty, her eyes wide. She put a hand to her mouth, "I should not have read that part. Lydia had written with strict instructions for me not to mention that part. Oh my, what will she say? It was to be such a secret!"

"If it was to be secret," said Jane, "say not another word on the subject. You may depend upon my seeking no further."

"Oh! certainly," said Elizabeth , though burning with curiosity; "we will ask you no questions."

Filled with guilt, Kitty fled from the room, leaving a very confused Elizabeth and a very concerned Jane. Jane's delicate sense of honor would not allow her to speak to Elizabeth privately of what Kitty had let fall, and she too rose to leave.

"Mama asked me to meet her in the garden to discuss what flowers I shall wear in my hair at the wedding. Would you please come and assist me, you know better than I what blooms at that time of year."

"Of course," answered Elizabeth, not quite knowing what she was agreeing to.

Several hours later, she found herself alone with her thoughts, staring into the flickering flame of the candle before her. The room had a chill, but she did not feel it. She could only think of one thing. Mr. Darcy had been at her sister's wedding. The implications and possibilities surrounded such an event were endless and many most improbable. She could not work it out on her own and thought of only one person that could relay the answers to her. She could not bear such suspense; and hastily seizing a sheet of paper, wrote a short letter to her aunt.

Her answer found its way into her hands as soon as it possibly could. Her satisfaction was acute and she hungrily devoured the words hoping beyond all hope that she would find the answer she was yearning for.

Mrs. Gardiner described in detail how Mr. Darcy's discovery of Wickham and Lydia led to their swift wedding. She pleaded with confidence not to share the news with anyone, but also confessed that the credit settled on Mr. Gardiner was undeserved, as it was Mr. Darcy who did it all. Debts were settled, a dowry was increased, and a commission was purchased. She conveyed with gratification that he insisted the incident be no one's fault but his own, attributing it all to his mistaken pride. She let it be known, however, that another motive was more likely, and here she was uncharacteristically lax in detail. She briefly mentions a discussion between her husband and Mr. Darcy concerning the events that took place over the summer, but went no further on that subject.

She concludes, "Will you be very angry with me, my dear Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying how much I like him. His behavior to us has, in every respect, been surprising pleasing. His understanding and opinions all please me; he wants nothing but a little more liveliness, and _that_, if he marry _prudently_, his wife may teach him. I thought him very sly;—he hardly ever mentioned your name. But slyness seems the fashion. Pray forgive me if I have been very presuming, or at least do not punish me so far as to exclude me from P. But also remember, dearest Lizzy, that forgiveness is an essential for happiness, especially where a gross misunderstanding as occurred. But I must write no more. The children have been wanting me this half hour. Your's, very sincerely,

M. Gardiner."

The hand holding the letter fell to her lap, and an astonished expression seized her face. It was fortunate that she was alone in the copse; otherwise she would have alarmed those around her. Her heart held an awkward feeling of pain and elation. She felt shame for ever doubting him, but proud of his ability to get the better of himself. She understood why it was done; there was no doubt of it. She knew he would come to Hertfordshire, but not when. She quickly rose and ran back to the house with a plan to write her aunt a most thankful letter.

As she rounded the corner of the hedgerow she saw Daniel, the groom, leading a black stallion and an auburn mare toward the stables.

"Do we have visitors, Daniel?" Suddenly, Elizabeth's heart began to race.

"Yes, miss, Mr. Bingley has returned, and there was another gentleman with him, miss, a Mr. Darcy."

The quick pace of her pulse stopped at his words and Elizabeth was barely able to mutter, "Thank you," before Daniel led the horses away.

Time stood still for a moment, and Elizabeth knew not whether to give in to her happiness or her panic. She held a hand at her stomach and leaned her back against a nearby tree while she steadied her breathing. The letter in her hand was crushed in her palm, one corner digging mercilessly into a finger. Then, as suddenly as her discomfort overcame her, it was conquered. With a deep breath, she stepped from the seclusion of the trees and marched toward the house.

Once inside, she resolutely entered the room, fearing if she were to pause her will would fail her. She saw Mr. Bingley first and greeted him with as little words as civility would allow. Mr. Darcy was by the window and turned to her when she entered. Here, even less was said, and if anyone noticed, they gave no indication.

Elizabeth sat in the only available seat, next to her enamored sister, Jane. She picked up her work and tried with all her energy to stay composed, daring not to lift her eyes. After several moments of staring at the same stitch, she looked up briefly. He was gazing out the window again, in such a familiar way that she smiled a little. Her eyes traveled to the scene that seemed to capture his attention and she gasped a little when she realized that it was the very spot that she had been standing only minutes before. He had been watching her.

Although Elizabeth's discomfort was clear from her expressions, Darcy's was well hidden. He had, indeed, seen her from the window and watched as the groom walked away from her. He had expected that his presence would come as a shock, but he never anticipated it would be so distressing to her. He believed that he witnessed her nearly faint and it took all his strength not to run from the room to comfort her and confess it all at that moment.

As he stood almost in arms reach of her, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he listened to her mother ramble on and on about wedding plans. She spoke of Lydia too, another point that caused him pain, if only because he knew it must be upsetting for Elizabeth.

He turned away from the window, so abruptly that his coat swirled around him. He cleared his throat before speaking. "I am afraid that I failed to offer you my congratulations, Miss Bennet. My friend here is very lucky."

It took Jane a moment to realize she was being address and she responded as sweetly as one would expect before returning to her mother's attentions. Elizabeth sat rather still, quite aware that he was now facing her. When he spoke again, his voice was lower.

"And the rest of your family, Miss Bennet, are they in good health?"

Elizabeth looked up and straight into his eyes. He was smiling a small, almost unnoticeable smile. It meant all the world to her. "Yes, thank you." His hands unclasped from behind his back, his left one reached out and touched the corner of the small table at her side. In order to do so, he had to lean forward slightly. He opened his mouth to speak again but he was interrupted by Mrs. Bennet.

"Mr. Darcy, Lizzy has told us all about your adventures together. How heroic you were! We all have you to thank for our Lizzy coming back to us. Don't we Lizzy? Have you thanked Mr. Darcy, Lizzy?"

"I…" was all Elizabeth could say before her mother rose purposefully. Mrs. Bennet walked over to Darcy and peered down at her second daughter.

"Well!" she exclaimed expectantly.

"I have never desired your daughter's gratitude, Mrs. Bennet." Darcy stood resolutely by Elizabeth's side, his interruption garnering a look of astonishment from everyone in the room.

"Oh! That is very noble of you, sir." Mrs. Bennet fidgeted for a moment with her hands. The usually assertive woman found herself rather intimidated by Darcy's serious disposition. For once in her life, she decided that silence would be the best course of action and she turned her attentions back to Mr. Bingley and her eldest daughter.

Elizabeth could not help but be amused by her mother's behavior and was forced to cover her mouth with her hand to hide her wide smile. Darcy turned back to the window and shared his smirk only with the blackbird in a nearby tree.

The gentlemen were invited to stay for dinner, which they accepted graciously. Little had been said between Darcy and Elizabeth before the meal and even less during as he was almost as far from her as the table could divide them. All present allowed the conversation to revolve around Bingley, Jane and Mrs. Bennet, but whether or not they were attending to the dialogue is another matter.

Elizabeth sat impatiently in the drawing room after supper awaiting the gentlemen's return. The constant chatter of her mother grated on her nerves and she almost rose to leave the room in agitation when Mr. Bingley returned. He was alone.

"Mr. Bennet and Mr. Darcy shall return shortly, I believe," he announced to the room, although Elizabeth thought she caught a particular look in her direction. She stood to pour coffee in an effort to distract herself from the jumble of hopeful yet panicky thoughts going through her mind. This plan failed dreadfully, however, as she dropped a cup and spilt the hot liquid down her dress.

She quickly returned to her dressing room, refusing help from everyone. There was a chill in the air, as the fire had been let out and Elizabeth had to light several candles in order to see her way around. She removed most of her garments and handed them to Mrs. Hill, who she asked to leave as she wished to dress herself.

She sat in the only chair in the room and stared at her own face in the mirror. Her hair had become disheveled in an effort to remove her clothing in haste and the shadows from the candle's flame cast a gloomy appearance peering back at her. She knew something of great import was occurring in her father's library and was so unnerved by the possibilities that she almost wished to hide in this dark, ominous place forever.

But then she remembered that smile, that small grin that he had given her, which morphed itself into a series of joyful memories of them laughing, talking and sharing. There were the promises and plans for the future, the stolen kisses and gentle caresses. There were the dreams she only allowed herself to imagine late at night, when she was completely alone and it almost felt like he was there next her, feeling the same pain and longing as she. And he had come back, come back for her, she was certain of it. With new found faith and hope, she swiftly dressed herself and exited the room.

As she was about to round the corner towards the stairs, she could hear the animated conversation in the drawing room and she sighed deeply before continuing. When she reached the top of the stairs and looked down she saw a tall form cross the hall and pause to look up at her. Frozen in place, neither spoke for a full minute. Confused and unsure how she wished to react, Elizabeth remained at her station at the top of the stairs. Before either could speak or move, Mrs. Bennet was heard calling for her daughter.

"Lizzy! Lizzy!" The shrill woman's matronly shape appeared in the doorway. "Oh, Mr. Darcy, I hope Mr. Bennet was not boring you will his vexing talk." Her eyes followed his to the figure moving towards them. "There you are Lizzy! Come! let us all return to the drawing room. Jane is being quite indecisive and you must help me persuade her." Mrs. Bennet continued to ramble on for the rest of the evening and neither Elizabeth nor Darcy found the opportunity to speak to each other excluding the uncomfortable farewell they shared before separating for a long and sleepless night.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Darcy rose before the lazy sun found its way above the trees. He dressed himself casually, forgoing a cravat and hat, before quietly slipping out to the stables and greeting his excited mare that stood awaiting him. It had been some time since he had indulged in an early morning ride, and the secluded woods and winding trails around Netherfield offered the perfect setting.

After a brisk run, he allowed the horse to softly trot through the dense gathering of trees. The sun's rays were bursting through the shadows, blinding the invigorated rider as he slowed to catch his breath. As the mare dipped her head down to a nearby stream, Darcy reflected on the previous evening.

He had entered the Bennet's home with restrained hope. The evening had begun much better than he could have ever imagined. He thought he knew her well enough to know that if she was decided against him her rejection would be written clear across her face. Instead, she appeared unsure and detached. He decided he would save it all until they could spare a moment alone.

Then, the unexpected occurred. Mr. Bennet asked him in a very condescending tone to stay behind for a "chat" in the library. The elder gentlemen had spoken very little during the meal and only to Bingley after. Darcy suspected the subject matter that would be broached and prepared to defend himself as Mr. Bennet poured them both another glass of port.

He handed over the glass, took a long drink, and then turned to Darcy while peering over his spectacles, "So, Mr. Darcy, when were you planning on asking me for my daughter's hand in marriage?"

Darcy nearly chocked on the sweet wine that had barely found its way to his lips. "Pardon me, sir?"

"Is that not your intention for coming all this way? I know that you do not find the society here particularly engaging, and for that I cannot fault you."

Darcy set down his glass and squared his jaw, "Yes, sir, that is my intention. However, I did not plan to speak to you until after I had approached Miss Bennet."

"It is my understanding that my daughter has already been approached."

The only sign of agitation by Darcy was a slight twitch of the nose. "If you are referring to our prior understanding, I would only wish to clarify the circumstances. You will agree that the situation was unusual?" Mr. Bennet nodded. "Miss Bennet has been through quite an ordeal and I only wish to extort her present opinion on the matter."

"I must admire your desire to consider my daughter's feelings, but I am more concerned about yours. You have always projected yourself as an uncommonly proud individual and prior to your stint across the Atlantic your only opinion of my daughter was a rather low one. I am curious what has brought you to this point."

Darcy had not planned on the conversation following this course. Mr. Bennet seemed not all concerned about his daughter's possible loss of virtue, but more so on why a man like him would be interested in her. He thought the answer was obvious.

"I love her, sir, do not doubt that." He hesitated for a moment to steady his breath. "I have loved your daughter for almost a year. I will admit that at first I was reluctant to accept it, but I have long since seen the error of my ways. In many respects, I do not deserve her. She is a superior creature; you of all people should know that, sir."

Mr. Bennet continued his penetrating gaze in silence for a moment before smiling a little at the young, passionate man before him. "Yes." He turned and lowered himself into his favorite chair. "I have no objections to the marriage if Elizabeth does not. I wish you the best." Mr. Bennet had no intention of continuing the conversation as he reached for the book beside him. With a quick bow of the head, Darcy swiftly found the door.

What occurred next appeared only as a cloud in his mind. Part of him believed he imaged her ethereal figure emerging above him. All he knew for certain was that she did not speak to him the rest of the evening and he left rather disappointed.

He allowed the contented horse to follow her own path as he stared into nothingness. There was a light breeze that twirled the few reddish-brown leaves that had fallen to the ground. He needed a plan, but he knew not how find a moment to speak to Elizabeth alone. He was certain that Bingley would not object to a visit later in the day, but he was unsure how it could be any different than the previous day.

His eyes were fixed before him; the uniform picture of tree after tree entrancing him until a break in the line took the form of a young woman. Darcy clumsily pulled on the reigns and turned towards the figure.

* * *

Elizabeth felt a feeble twig beneath her boot snap; she winced a little at the sound and took care during the rest of her ramble to avoid making any further noise. She wanted to pretend, if only for that short morning, that she was a part of the scenery around her, not a visitor to the unspoiled wood.

Since her return home, she often stole out at dawn to meditate in an isolated haven. It was reminiscent of a time when lazy, thought-filled hours were her only company save the tall cedars and chirping birds. The rest of her family usually chose not to rise until hours later and Elizabeth reveled in the opportunity to explore without having to answer to anyone.

This morning things felt slightly different and more unnatural than before. Her thoughts were on Darcy, as they usually were, but now they were complemented by feelings of anticipation and urgency. She did not habitually walk towards Netherfield, in fact she often kept to the woods around Longbourn, but on this day she was drawn in its direction.

She heard him before she saw him. The rhythmic beat of his horse's hooves gradually increased in intensity before her and then suddenly stopped. Elizabeth thought for a moment that she had dreamt the sound until she spied in the distance the auburn mare walking slowly but gracefully towards her. The horse's master sat atop her with all the usual elegance and masculinity that he characterizes in all his endeavors. Elizabeth stood between two trees and watched as he approached her. She fully expected him to acknowledge her presence until he quite surprisingly rode directly past her.

Suddenly, just as he was about stride away from her, Darcy jerked his head in her direction and stopped to gaze in wonder at her. He slowly approached and glided off his horse, releasing the reigns to walk freely. As he stood before her, the sun released a burst of light between the trees, the ray falling just between them.

The moment Elizabeth recognized the anxious look in his eye, all was forgiven. But believing he did not deserve such benevolence, she decided quickly to scold him a little before relieving his pain.

"Mr. Darcy," she bowed her head slightly, "It is a surprise to meet you here so early in the day."

"Yes it is," he replied with suppressed emotion.

"I find a solitary walk early in the morning quite refreshing, do you agree?"

"I do."

"Then would you care to join me?"

"I would." And he held out his arm to her, which she took lightly. The horse followed obediently without orders.

They walked in silence for some time; the moments that passed felt like hours. With each passing second, Elizabeth's courage rose.

"Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding yours. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express."

They had paused for her speech and Darcy looked down at her with a curious look on his face. This was not what he could have ever imagined her to say. Taken aback by her words, he fumbled over his own for a moment.

"I…" he started and then paused, "You are a curious creature, Miss Bennet."

"Why is that, sir?"

"You have made it a point to know everything and yet it appears I know nothing. How is it that you became of aware of my involvement? I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted."

"You must not blame my aunt. Lydia is not one to hold her tongue, or pause her pen as the case truly was. She wrote of it to Kitty, who inadvertently let it slip during a reading of the letter. Of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars."

"And your aunt told you all of course."

"Yes, indeed." Her face became serious. "And why did you not tell me?"

He turned and led her away again, allowing himself a moment to compile his thoughts. "I simply did not wish for you to know."

Elizabeth's frustration was obvious. "And why is that?"

"I did not wish for your forgiveness to be brought about by a sense of gratitude."

She could not help but smile a little at this, but she hid it well. "And what is it, Mr. Darcy, that you wish to be forgiven for?"

"For thinking the worst of you."

Elizabeth stopped and looked away. Darcy lowered his arm and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. "I believed you to have left me, with no word and no hope."

"But I wrote to you!" Her eyes widened in vehemence.

Darcy nodded slightly. "I know that now. I did not receive it until a few weeks ago, on the same day I learned of your sister's ill-fated flight."

"So all this time you thought I did not care for you; that I took the first means of escape and left you on the other side of the world?"

"I did."

"You are a very foolish man."

"I am."

"You could have lost me."

"There is nothing that you can say that I have not already said to myself."

Elizabeth knew this to be true, but still, she felt ill at ease with the notion. "I suppose you expect me to forgive you now for your lack of faith. I see that you have suffered for it. Well, so have I. For months I have been here waiting for you and you did not come, but I did not lose faith. I knew you would come."

"There is the proof of your excellence. Despite all my faults, which you have been quite privy to, you still believed in me. I do not deserve such compassion."

"Perhaps not," replied Elizabeth, with not enough irony to sooth Darcy's heart.

He released her hand and stepped back from her. "Elizabeth, there is nothing that I can say that will properly express my regret and remorse for neglecting you. I have laid before you my excuses, but I see they are poor ones."

Elizabeth sighed, feeling the pain between them acting as a barrier to their happiness. "They are not so very poor."

"Are they not?"

"No, sir. You have spent your time away from me in grief over our separation and heroically saving my family from certain disgrace. I find those honorable excuses."

Darcy let out the breath he was holding through a broad smile that shamelessly crossed his face. He stepped forward. "You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last June, tell me so at once…"

Elizabeth could not allow him to continue without giving her answer. "They are."

Crossing the gap between them took less than a step for either and in a moment they were in each other's arms. The need to hold one another was greater than the need for amorous kisses, but after a time Darcy's lips found their way to hers.

Elizabeth pulled away slightly and looked up at him, one hand pressed at his skin at the opening of his shirt. "You might have come a little sooner, I think."

"A man who had felt less, might."

"Hmm. How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer to give. But am I to credit our present understanding all to a simple stroke of luck? What if you had not found me here?"

"You need not distress yourself. I would have found you alone eventually. I was determined to find you and I had faith that you wanted to be found."

"Indeed."

As the sun rose high in the cloudless sky leaving a gleam across the ginger field, the couple walked arm in arm towards Longbourn. They spoke of the past and of the future, of their family and of their friends. When they reached the path to her home, Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning.

The End.

* * *

A/n - Phew. I can't believe it's finally done. I will be editing it over time and reposting it here and at a few other sites. I don't have any immediate plans to write another JAFF as I have come to realize it takes up much more of my time than I really have available. Perhaps I will reconsider the idea this summer. Thanks again to all my readers and especially all those who took the time to write a review, they meant so much to me. :) 


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