The main characters

As he surveyed his new property, Darcy had to shield his eyes from the intense rays of the spring sun. The land stretched endlessly, its fertile fields and promising vistas assuring him that he had made the right decision. He perched high on his faithful friend, Devil – a beautiful, high-spirited stallion, sleek and black as midnight, standing over sixteen hands[i] high. The animal had the cunning ability to read Darcy's moods, and this time was no exception; he remained motionless, mirroring Darcy's solemn, reflective state as he gazed across the vast land now under his care.

[i] A horse is measured in hands, as originally the height was determined by the number of hand widths from the ground to the withers (the top of the shoulder, where the neck meets the back). A hand equals four inches (ten centimetres), roughly the width of a man's hand. 

Richard watched his cousin's pain play out on his face. "Did she at least give you a reason? I mean, a connection to you would've meant a lot to her family."

"I do not think she even gave it a thought. I had to persuade her to tell me her reasons. Well, I guess I asked for it because she lashed out! You should have seen her! No one has ever talked to me that way… She was magnificent!" He recalled her stance and the power of her eyes on him. Even in remembrance, her set down had a peculiar effect on him. Of course, he was highly offended, but another visceral feeling overtook him as she argued with him. Arousal. His body and mind reacted to her challenge, making him feel more alive than ever. He had to stop himself from taking her into his embrace and kiss the life out of her. She had no idea of the restraint he had to use to remain a gentleman. Maybe he should not have bothered. She already thought he was no gentleman, and he would now know how she tasted! 

For five days, Elizabeth's mind had been wholly occupied, rendering her unfit for all other considerations. She was still in shock, still in disbelief about what had happened, and the following letter, which was incredible in itself that Mr Darcy would breach propriety that way. She did not think of it as surprised as she was at the time, and then her curiosity took over. In the days that followed, however, she did think about it; the fact that if people had known that a letter from a gentleman was in her pocket, they would have found it most scandalous and more, her reputation would have been ruined. That flared her indignation at the gentleman. 

At Darcy House, the word spread like fire that the Master had come home smiling. The cook took it to put a more elaborate menu on the table, and the maids sang again as they worked.

With a new purpose, Darcy took residence in his study for the next few days. He sat and wrote, he wrote and calculated, he calculated and planned. There were papers everywhere. Messengers took and brought letters all day.

Richard gave up on talking to him as even at dinner, he could see that Darcy's mind was elsewhere. Darcy did not even notice when he moved out back to his camp. 

"Oh, now I am welcome in your home, Darcy?" The lord's tall figure appeared at the door of his study.

"Forgive me, Phillip, but that was not the best time." Darcy stood.

"You seem to feel better." His guest observed.

"Yes, I have been very busy these last few days. I have asked you to come because…"

"Ah, straight to business, I see. How refreshing." The viscount sat in the chair before Darcy's desk without invitation.

"Yes, I'm planning to start an enterprise, and I need you to raise some money for it."

His lordship took his lorgnette off his eye. This sounded like serious business. "Is that so? I am all ears."

"There's an estate called Netherfield…" Darcy explained his plans, the circumstances, and the prospect.


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When her mother fell asleep in the armchair, Lizzy looked at the pile of papers from London. She stood and went to the papers. One by one, she examined the society pages. After some search, she found the small article. It said that he attended Countess Matlock's ball and was seen talking and dancing with a Miss Hainley, a "lovely" debutante.

So, Mr Darcy has moved on. Well, that was swiftly done. She bristled at that; then, she wondered what this young woman was like for Mr Darcy to notice her. She told herself petulantly that she must have a good dowry, although she knew she was not fair to him. After all, he did offer for her penniless self. She did not know how she was supposed to feel about this knowledge, and she became angry toward herself that she wanted to find out about him. 

The only person, other than Mrs Nicholls, who was aware of the identity of the new landlord of Netherfield, of course, was Mr Phillips, the local attorney. They were sufficiently shocked at that development. Alas, he was obligated not to say a word due to his confidentiality agreement, although the fact almost killed him. His wife and others kept nagging him to share this vital information. It seemed people would veritably die if they did not learn the identity of their new neighbour soon. He had sent messengers to and fro, finalising the deal on the previous owner's behalf.

"Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, it is an honour to meet you again. I hope you are both well." Darcy said, his voice steady as he addressed the older sisters. He prayed that Miss Elizabeth would look at him, though he dared not hope for too much.

Jane, ever gracious, was the first to speak. "Mr Darcy, welcome. We are quite well. And you? What brings you back to Hertfordshire?"

"My cousin and I have recently purchased Netherfield…" Darcy began, his eyes flickering to Elizabeth. Her head snapped up at the mention of Netherfield, a clear sign of her surprise.

Darcy looked at her and bowed his head to her. "Yes, madam. We acquired it as an investment and hope to make significant improvements there."

"Are you indeed the new owner of Netherfield, sir?" Mrs Bennet asked in wonder.

"Yes, madam. We are very hopeful about the potential there and look forward to becoming part of the community."

"I feel I must be honest with you. I am partly to blame for your heartache." Darcy blurted out.

Jane stood unblinking, her face pale as she tried to absorb the gravity of his words.

"I am very sorry for being indelicate. During the ball at Netherfield, Sir William let it slip that there was a general expectation for Bingley to offer for you. I found the notion premature as we had been in the neighbourhood only for a short time, and to my knowledge, he never even called on you. I observed you to see if you had feelings for my friend, but, and please forgive me for saying this, I didn't see any particular sentiment on your side… I am beginning to understand that maybe that's just your disposition; you are kind to everyone." He took his handkerchief to pat his face with it..

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"And how did she take it?"

Darcy's lips twitched into a faint, wry smile. "With far more grace than I expected. She was hurt, of course. Who wouldn't be? But she bore it with a quiet strength that was…humbling."

Phillip leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Miss Bennet strikes me as the sort who would value honesty over pretence. Still, it could not have been easy for her to hear."

"It was not," Darcy admitted, his voice heavy. "But she forgave me, or so she said."

Phillip studied his cousin, his expression softening. "Grace, strength, and forgiveness? She sounds like a remarkable woman."

"She is," Darcy replied simply, his voice carrying an unusual note of reverence. "Her composure in the face of such a revelation was extraordinary. I expected anger, perhaps even disdain, but instead, she showed understanding."

Phillip leaned back, considering Darcy's words. "I must admit, you have surprised me, Darce. I didn't think you capable of such humility."

"I have thought about it, Lizzy. We have both sworn to marry for love. I am uncertain whether I hold any love for him still." As Jane spoke, her own words surprised her. How could love so fervent fade so quickly? But when she thought of Mr. Bingley's absence, his silence, the way he had not fought for her, a hollowness filled the space where affection once resided. She longed for a love that stood firm, even in the face of adversity.

"How can you say that?" Elizabeth asked, disbelieving.

"It is true. I see things differently now; it cannot be helped. I want a man who would fight for me, or at least one who does not give up on me at the first hurdle. For too long, I have placed others' expectations above my own desires. I have learnt that a love worth having must be earned, not merely given. Also, I am not welcome in that family. Caroline and Louisa made that abundantly clear."

"You would not be marrying them," Elizabeth pointed out.

"I know that. Only I should have to watch their sour faces for the rest of my life. Anyway, I also thought about our oath. The reality is that we have nothing to offer other than ourselves. If we want to marry, I do not think I can hold onto that oath."

"What are you saying, Jane?" Elizabeth asked, confusion in her voice.

I shall not be made unhappy by Mr Darcy! She thought fiercely. Only a month ago, she had never dreamt that he would have tender feelings toward her. Only a month ago, I hated him! How could he think she would change her mind so easily, as if her emotions were so fickle? He is nobody to me, she insisted to herself, trying to reaffirm her resolve.

Desperate to distract herself, she picked up her embroidery and focused on the delicate stitches. But her hands were unsteady, and her thoughts were elsewhere. "Ouch!" she exclaimed as the needle pricked her finger, drawing a tiny bead of blood. She stared at the crimson dot, feeling the sting of the wound, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil in her heart. 

Phillip raised an eyebrow, his expression a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "And you feel that men do not also wish for affection from their prospective wives? I assure you, Miss Bennet, we are quite particular about that ourselves. Darcy would not have proposed without feeling."

Jane blushed, caught off guard by his response. "Of course, sir, I did not mean to suggest otherwise…"

Phillip held up a hand, a teasing glint in his eyes. "No need to defend yourself. I find your sentiment quite admirable, actually. Many marry without kind feelings. It's just…what a pity it would be to marry someone and feel nothing for her."

He paused, his gaze softening as he studied her. "I cannot imagine enduring a life without affection. It would be like a fine estate with no sunlight, no warmth. Such a place could never thrive."

Jane's blush deepened, but she managed a small smile. "I suppose we agree on that, then." 

After thinking the worst about him, how was she supposed to forget it all? As she reflected on her feelings of righteousness, she felt ashamed. She never gave him the benefit of the doubt. Jane was right. She did not want to see him in an advantageous light. She was so sure she had good reasons to loath him that she did not listen to any advice. Now that she knew the truth in all her accusations, it was difficult to admit that he seemed to be an excellent marriage partner once these were removed.

The realisation that she had misunderstood him so profoundly made her heart ache with an unfamiliar pang of guilt. Could it be that her pride had prevented her from seeing the truth of his character? And if so, what did that say about her own judgment?

She looked up at him with evident pain in her eyes. She nodded.

"You did very well, Miss Elizabeth. Brighton is not for young ladies, especially not without parental supervision. I know the dangers." He looked at Elizabeth with meaning. "May I ask what your father's objections were?"

Elizabeth shut her eyes.

"I am not trying to judge; I just want to understand."

"He – he thought we, Jane and I, were jealous of the invitation, and he did not want to listen to her tantrum if he didn't let her go. He did not think there was a real danger of her… doing…"

"I understand. Say no more." He thought for a while. "Your mother, does she wield power over what happens?"

Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, and both nodded. "I was going to speak to her tomorrow."

"In that case, would you allow me to try to talk to her? Maybe I can impress on her how dangerous this place is."

"You wish to talk to my mother? You – you would do that?" Elizabeth asked in open wonder.

Darcy bowed. "There is very little I would not do for you, Miss Elizabeth."

Her lips parted in silent surprise. Elizabeth's chest tightened as his words sank in. She had never heard anyone speak with such quiet sincerity, much less directed at her. For a moment, she felt exposed, as though he could see past her defences to the conflicted emotions she kept buried. She struggled to compose herself under the weight of his steady gaze. She looked into his eyes and saw, for the first time, his feelings written on his face.

Darcy just smirked at him. "It's quite astonishing that you think you could come here, and she would do your bidding after all you have put her through. Do you think I stayed silent about your misdeeds?"

Wickham's face contorted with rage. "Why do you have to ruin everything?"

Darcy's laughter was sharp and bitter. "You mean, why don't I just stand aside and let you ruin my sister?"

Wickham's lip curled in frustration, his voice rising as he shouted, "You've always stood in my way! You take everything for granted while I scrape by!"

Darcy's eyes narrowed, his anger icy and controlled. "And whose fault is that, Wickham? You were given every opportunity and squandered them all."

When they got back to the carriage, Elizabeth offered Darcy a drink. He gratefully took it from her, but not before their fingers, now without gloves, brushed together. Their eyes snapped to look at each other. Darcy lingered; he did not want to give up the unexpected gift. Elizabeth's breath caught, her fingers tingling from the brief contact. Darcy's intense gaze seemed to pull her in, a silent declaration of his feelings that she could no longer ignore. For a fleeting moment, the world around them faded, the clinking of glasses and soft chatter of others nothing more than a distant hum. Both were acutely aware of the sensations their touch created. Hardly breathing, Elizabeth then watched Darcy drink, the strong curve of his jaw emphasised in profile, and her own pulse quickened.

"Thank you." Darcy's voice croaked. He gave back the cup. Elizabeth stepped away to offer drinks to others, still barely breathing. When she turned away, Darcy closed his eyes and relived the moment. She did not pull away… Maybe it was a surprise, but she did not pull away.

Elizabeth gave the bottle to her sister to distribute. She hesitated but then straightened and called to Darcy.

"Mr Darcy, would you show me around?"

Darcy turned around and just stared at her.

"Your aunt said that she was quite impressed with the work you were doing here."

"Work?" His mind went blank.

"What you are doing here." She gestured. She wanted to know more – about the plans, about his vision, about the man behind them.

"Oh, of course, by all means." What is she doing?

"Go to a ball just to make her what…jealous?" Darcy did not like the idea of that. "I abhor deceit," he grumbled.

"Well, she could use a little bit of competition or uncertainty. After all, she was harsh with you." Phillip said.

"Knowing you are out there dancing, chatting with the best of the ton might just do the trick. Jealousy is a powerful emotion." Lady Matlock leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Remember, my boy, the ton is not kind to those who hesitate. Show her what she risks losing. Sometimes, a touch of uncertainty is all it takes to solidify one's affections."

Darcy frowned, but her knowing smile left him uneasy. 

As they neared the house again, Darcy ventured to ask, his tone tentative yet hopeful. "Would it appease you, Miss Elizabeth, if I did not dance at the ball?"

Elizabeth hesitated, feeling her heart quicken at his question. There was a part of her that longed to say yes, that wanted him to reserve himself, to remain untouchable to others, as if he could be hers alone. But after her previous behaviour – her thoughtless, cowardly rejection – she could not bring herself to ask him to make such a gesture. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I – I do not have the right to ask you that."

Darcy's gaze held steady, his eyes reflecting a depth of feeling that made her breath catch. He murmured, stepping closer, his voice low and sincere, "I wish you would claim that right."

Chapter 18 - Clearing the Air

Elizabeth's gaze softened, and she gave a small, understanding nod. "Mr Darcy, I appreciate your consideration. That's why I intervened. I am sorry if my previous responses caused you to hesitate. They were not…encouraging," she said, her voice carrying a hint of regret. She forced a smile, which lacked its usual warmth.

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth summoned her courage. "If it matters, I wish you to know that I am not opposed to dancing…with you," she confessed, her cheeks flushing slightly as she spoke the words.

Darcy's breath caught at her admission. He studied her face intently, noting the slight blush and the way she avoided his gaze after her declaration. His heart quickened with anticipation. "You would not?" he asked carefully, his eyes searching hers for confirmation.

"Miss Elizabeth, I must say that if you did not put much effort into your appearance, I wonder what you'll look like when you put much exertion into it. You look lovely." He surprised himself how easily he flirted with his lady.

Georgiana beamed at both.

"Why, Mr Darcy, that sounded very much like a compliment."

"If I recall, this is not the first time."

She looked at him as if in doubt. "Maybe you could remind me of those incidents during our dance, Mr Darcy." She laughed.

"It would be my pleasure." His eyes danced.

"This colour indeed looks perfect on you, Lizzy. Is that my brother's gift in your hair?" Georgiana boldly asked. She wanted to know for her brother.

"Erm… yes. It complements my dress, does it not?" She glanced at Darcy demurely. "You – you arrived earlier than you said you would. I'm engaged for the next set."

Darcy was walking on clouds… "That's all right. I shall take my sister to dance."

"Oh, of course. You are a good brother."

He bowed to her. "I am looking forward to our set, Miss Elizabeth."

They walked in the garden, Jane steadfastly silent and Phillip mortified and tongue-tied. He regularly talked of business and negotiated with all kinds of men; now, he was failing in the matters of the heart. "I am very sorry for not visiting yesterday." He finally blurted.

"Sorry? Why?" She did not look at him.

"I should have been here."

Jane examined her footsteps. "My lord, we are happy to see you whenever you decide to visit."

She did not make it easy for him. Phillip had to address this. He stopped. "Miss Bennet. I apologise…"

"My lord, you do not owe me an explanation. If you are worried about the rose, you should not. I shall think of it as a kind gesture from an acquaintance, nothing more. If you prefer, I shall give it back. I can go and get it."

"What? No! Miss Bennet, please forgive me. I know I hurt you. The flower was a token of my admiration. When Bingley asked for an interview, I froze. I thought the gentlemanly thing was to allow you to answer for yourself, but then I became terrified that you may say yes. In the end, I was ready to tear his person from you. I wanted to rescue you from him, but being the wonderful person you are, it turned out to be unnecessary."

"You feared I might accept him?"

"When the possibility occurred to me, I was more than afraid. You had loved him once; I thought you might realise you still had feelings for him. In my selfishness, I could not endure it."

Jane inwardly cherished every word he said. A little Elizabeth came out in her: "So, how did you want to handle it if I had been of a mind to accept him?"

"I should have told you that you had another option."

"And what would that have been?"

"To marry me."

"You would welcome my thoughts on the subject?" Elizabeth felt a strange warmth spread through her chest. Here was a man of immense power and privilege, yet he valued her opinions. The thought humbled her, and for the first time, she saw a glimpse of what a partnership with him might truly mean.

"Indeed, I would. Why? Do you have more?"

"I might. I shall have to think about it."

After some silence, Darcy reflected out loud. "As you know, I have been my own man for about five years now. Also, in the last year of my father, as soon as I returned from my Grand Tour, I had to make my own decisions about the estate and everything. I have surrounded myself with capable people to help me, but ultimately, I have borne the responsibilities alone. Having someone with whom to share my thoughts would be a great comfort. A partner." He looked at her. "You could be that person. You are clever; you have your opinions on things, and you are interested. You have just shown initiative by contacting your relatives. We could discuss things. It would also be good if you could share some of my decision-making. It is getting to be too much to handle by myself."

The only unusual occurrence on the outing was on the way back when Elizabeth impatiently asked when she could fly with her horse like she saw Mr Darcy do when he arrived. Darcy directed his horse close to Elizabeth's and made hers stop. He leaned over and, holding her at her waist, lifted her to sit in front of him on Devil. Elizabeth was so surprised at first that no sound left her, but she shrieked excitedly when she realised what was happening.

The others in the group could not believe Mr Darcy was taking their sister.

"Mr Darcy, be careful." Jane worried.

"Are you ready?" He whispered into Elizabeth's ear.

She looked back at him with laughing eyes.

"As much as I shall ever be. Do not let me fall."

"Trust me," he said, kicking his horse into motion. They left the group behind. Darcy went into a canter, adjusted Elizabeth to ensure she was secure and urged Devil into a heart-stopping gallop[i]. It was a sight to see.

"Lean forward, hug his neck, hold on to his mane." He said, making both of them lean over to secure greater speed.

"Oh, we are flying!"

[i] The average speed of a gallop is around 50-60 km/h. 

"Dearest Elizabeth, I have two purposes for showing you this. For one, I want you to look at the rings to be inspired. I shall have an engagement ring made for you that we could design together. The other reason is that I would like you to choose the items you can imagine wearing. I sold some old pieces from the collection to secure part of the money for the Netherfield enterprise. I have an idea that has been forming in my head that may require that I sell more."

"So, you are asking me to choose the jewellery I want to keep? What about Georgiana?"

"She has jewellery. She will also receive a few pieces when she comes out from our mother. She personally chose them for her. If she marries well, she will have the jewels of that family, too."

"I see. How about we select them together? We did very well with the food." She laughed, though inwardly she was overwhelmed by the idea of choosing from a jewellery catalogue.

And so, Darcy sat beside her, and they spent quite some time in this fashion. Darcy stopped breathing when she looked at his mother's favourite piece, a white pearl necklace with two tiers and a series of moonstones framed as miniature suns. He adored that piece. Elizabeth leaned forward to see it better.

"This must be beautiful! I like this one, Fitz…" She stopped speaking as she took Darcy's expression in. "Is – is this one important?"

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, I like it very much."

Darcy released his breath. "It was my mother's favourite."

"Oh, then I shall wear this with pride."[i]

[i] See necklace on the story website.

Illustrations -  just for fun