Once upon a time in a little kingdom called Maple Grove, there lived the most beautiful Princess in all the world...

"Yes Ma'am," she smiled shyly then flipped open the book. "Once upon a time, though it was not in my time or in your time, or in anybody else's time, there was a great King who had an only son, the prince and heir who was about to come of age. So the King sent round a herald who should blow his trumpet at every four corners where two roads met. And when the people came together he would call out, 'O yes, O yes, O yes, know ye that his Grace the King will give on Monday sennight -- that meant seven nights or a week after -- 'a royal ball to which all maidens of noble birth are hereby summoned; and be it furthermore known unto you that at this ball his Highness the Prince will select unto himself a lady that shall be his bride and our future Queen. God save the King...'"

'God save the King. God save the King.' Catherine leaned back in her chair and let the words of the herald reverberate and the lapping of the waves sweep over her.

As Catherine drifted off to private reverie 'God save the King' changed subtly and slowly to 'With this ring'.

"Oh darling!" Catherine ran down the steps - loose curlers bobbing and weaving in her hair. "Thank God you're early!"

"Of course I am, honey. You practically begged me to."

"Did you remember to stop by the liquor store?"

Tilney pulled the bag out from under his coat. "You know how I feel about this, Cathy. I don't drink and I don't promote it."

"You don't have to worry about it then, since I'm paying for it."

"Ah." That comment cut him to the quick but he decided to let it pass.

She opened the bag. "Sparkling Cider?!"

"Yes." He answered with a steady look. "It's non-alcoholic."

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Well, it's too late to go and get something else..."

"You would be getting it yourself then."

"As I said, it's too late and I have other things to worry about."

"What are we having this evening?"

"Coq au Vin, steamed vegetables, fruit salad, etc. Nothing too heavy."

"Do they like children?"

"Of course!"

"Do they have any of their own?"

"I... I don't believe that was mentioned in their bio." Catherine turned this way and that - unsure of what to do next. "They're an older couple... got married in their later 40's I think. Major money. Hands in every pocket."

"I see. What religion are they?"

"Oh no, Henry! Please? In polite company, politics and religion are not allowed."

"I asked you a simple question, my dear: 'what religion are they?'"

"I don't know," she fidgeted. "Those curtains must go!"

"Tonight?"

"No, silly! But first thing tomorrow morning." She backed up and sat down. "Yes, I think a... Oh!" She stood up and began to fluff the pillows.

"What are you doing?"

"Fluffing the pillows," she smirked at him.

"Yes, but why?"

"When entertaining important guests, everything must look well-preserved. It's supposed to look like we just moved in."

He had to shake his head. "So, Miss Manners, shall I polish the silver?"

She wrinkled her nose at him. "When I get that fat bonus check, I'm going to buy us some real silver and better china."

"I see no reason to waste money."

"Of course, you don't dear, because we don't have any," she answered condescendingly and walked past him. "Come along. I laid out something nice for you to wear tonight."

"What's wrong with what I have on now?" He followed her up the stairs.

"It's not... I hate it."

"I love this jacket! Mary gave it to me last year, remember?"

"Yes I do," she gritted. "The color and the cut..."

"Beauty, wit, no artifice. Mary Crawford is everything good and kind."

Catherine rolled her eyes before opening the door to their bedroom. "See what I bought you?"

"A tuxedo?"

"Isn't it divine!"

"For tonight?"

"Yes."

"I thought this was just an informal dinner party?"

"It is, but I want you to look your best."

"Can we afford such a luxury?"

"Oh, it's fine if we get expensive gifts from Mary Crawford, but I can't buy you a simple tuxedo?" she hissed.

"This is not a simple tuxedo, honey."

"Well, it's my money and I'll spend it as I see fit!" she spat and stormed into her dressing room.

***

It was unspoken between them, but Tilney knew how important these advertising people were to his wife's future and therefore he would be on his best behavior... well, he would try.

"Henry, this is Mrs. Anne de Bourgh and her husband Mr. William Collins."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. and Mrs. Collins. Please, have a seat?"

"My name is de Bourgh," she sniffed snottily and sat down. "Anne de Bourgh."

"I thought my wife introduced you as husband and wife?"

"That is correct. But my mother made it to the top in the tough world of advertising as Catherine de Bourgh and by God everyone will use it."

"I apologize Miss... er, Mrs. de Bourgh..."

Catherine smiled at her husband, then frowned when he sat at the edge of his seat - which was a signal that she knew well; he would not let this go.

"But the bible teaches us that the man is the head of the family and the woman should take his name. Surely, you can have no objections to that?"

"I have no objections, I just don't choose to follow them. When all the annals are read for history's sake, my name would never be mentioned in any of them. Everyone must remember the name 'de Bourgh'."

"I'm not sure I understand your point, Madam. If your mother climbed to the top as de Bourgh are you saying that you would lose it if you changed it to Collins?"

"That is not what I meant," she sneered. "You have no idea how hard it would be for me to notify everyone that either knows me or knew my mother or that knows of us, that I've changed my name. Quite possibly millions of people."

"What about airing a commercial?" Duh! Isn't that your business?

"We've pondered the idea, but I'm quite satisfied with how things are now. In any event, you're still wet behind the ears, young man. You learn soon enough."

"Pardon me?"

"Your wife there. She might want to change back to her maiden name before she becomes more famous."

"I highly doubt that!" Tilney snorted. "Cathy knows where I stand on that issue."

"I think..." interjected Mr. Collins humbly. "... that, in our case, as in many others, if the husband does not object, there is no problem."

"Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife and they shall be one flesh..."

"Exactly as I've always said, Reverend Tilney... a man shall cleave unto his wife. Mr. Collins cleaves unto me. We are as one."

"You've managed to twist..."

"I think dinner must be ready!" Catherine interrupted hastily. "Darling would you help me, please?"

Tilney hid his mirth for his wife's sake. "Of course, darling."

***

"I teach Advanced Composition at the local high school."

"Very impressive," Mrs. de Bourgh smiled at Tilney. "Do you let him watch TV?" she asked while pointing to their son.

"No."

"What... my husband means to say is... not much TV." Catherine smiled nervously. "He's still very young."

"What a better age than now? Television is geared towards the younger generation, it's educational, interesting and entertaining."

"And the commercials, my dear, if I may venture to say," offered Mr. Collins.

"Especially the commercials!" she smiled at her husband.

"And how are commercials educational?" asked Tilney.

Catherine groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Take for example, the cereal ads. If one pays particular attention, one finds them so."

"I must have missed that lecture in college," he mumbled under his breath. "Which one... in particular?"

"Would you like some more wine, Mrs. de Bourgh?" Catherine interrupted.

The lady waved her away and by this movement caught the time on her watch. "Oh no!" she shrieked.

"Good God! Whatever is the matter?" Mr. Collins asked in fright.

"We've already missed 15 minutes of Dark Angel, my dear!" Mrs. de Bourgh got up from the dining room table, completely ignoring Tilney's last comment, and walked into the living room, her husband scurrying behind her. "Bring the boy along, Catherine."

Mr. Collins had already turned on the television to his wife's favorite channel.

***

The minutes ticked by and turned into hours; dinner - half eaten and cold, Catherine in a chair holding her son in her arms, Tilney gritting back his anger at having to watch a show about demons and such, Mrs. de Bourgh's and Mr. Collins' attention wrapped up in the weekly series.

"Now there was a pleasant ending... You see, love conquers all. What do say, Catherine?"

"Huh?" At being addressed, she snapped out of her boredom. "Oh yes, very educational."

"Your wife agrees with me, Reverend."

"I don't."

"Well, it really doesn't matter, does it. Demographics show that children and mothers are the primary audience, men really have no say so. No opinion whatsoever, am I right, dear?"

"Of course you are, dear!" Mr. Collins spouted. "Men have no opinion at all."

"Henry really doesn't watch TV," Catherine smiled at her guests but did not meet her husband's gaze. "So we can suppose that he really doesn't have an opinion... yet."

"My child fell asleep after the first 5 minutes, Mrs. de Bourgh." He took his son from his wife's arms. "I think he has clearly expressed the opinions of the males in this household."

"He is truly obstinate, Catherine, and does not yield easily." She tsked and shook her head. "I'm sorry for you, but I see no place for him... at least not at de Bourgh Advertising."

"Of what are you speaking?"

"You can be at no loss as to understand the reason why I'm here tonight, Reverend Tilney."

"I thought it was for your pleasant company?" He gave a sideways look to his wife.

"I... I didn't have a chance... to..."

"Catherine thought it a great idea for me to hire you as one of the writers on my staff and this little dinner party was to be an informal interview, but you state your opinions most decidedly for so young a person... and I cannot abide with that."

"I'm surprised at Cathy for even suggesting such a thing." He may have been addressing the lady, but he never took his eyes off his wife. "She knows how I feel about it. I would never sell my soul to write some simple-minded drivel just for the sake of a big payoff."

"There is where your wife and yourself divert in your beliefs. Catherine doesn't feel she's selling her soul, as you say, she's more interested in uplifting the masses than you are. Your pretty speeches only reach to the end of this street, while hers reach millions. If you become the breadwinner in your family again, Reverend, I'm sure you'll be able to sway the majority opinion a time or two. But as I know that your income is far below hers, I'll consider the subject closed."

Tilney's jaw twitched, his eyes darkened, and he rubbed his sleeping son's back to calm his own anger. "Then I know you won't mind if I don't see you out. Goodnight."

***

"What did you think you were doing?"

Catherine breathed deeply. The evening had been a complete and utter disaster and she did not want to argue. "It was a good idea at the time, Henry."

"A good idea?"

"Yes. A chance for us to start living as I always dreamed we would."

"You're not satisfied then?"

"I am... I just... I just want more. At least I'm trying," she said petulantly.

"You know I'm all for equal rights, equal pay, etc., and I applaud you for going out into the workforce and making a success of your labors and contributing to our home, but must you emasculate me in the process?"

She was startled by his biting words. "I..."

"Lately... Lately, you've said a few things to me that have disturbed me deeply, which I have been remiss in correcting, but none so much as tonight."

"Henry, I..."

He waved a hand to stop her from apologizing before he had his say. "I know the meager salary of mere Preacher/Schoolteacher is nothing to that of a nationally known columnist." He talked slowly and quietly and his once twinkling eyes were now dark and foreboding. "However, if it means that I am somehow less than a husband... less than a man, I know where the door is." He was deadly serious. "I don't need a map or a drawing and you need not show me the way."

Catherine's lips trembled. "I'm sorry!" she squeaked out.

Tilney looked at her for less than a moment. "I'm going out for a walk." He closed the bedroom door behind him.

"... And so they were married and lived happy ever afterwards."

Or not...

The applause of the young ladies awoke Catherine from her daydreams. "Just lovely... er, Candace. Thank you very much. You did a wonderful job and you're very much improved in your reading."

"Thank you, Mrs. Tilney," the girl whispered; not used to such generosity of praise.

She's so sweet... everybody loves Cathy.

The boat jerked as it slowed its engine. She looked starboard for signs of land and was pleased to see it. "Alright girls, I want you to sit quietly for a minute... we should be hitting shore soon."

They all nodded eagerly. Catherine took off the sweater that was gathered around her shoulders and stood up. She wobbled to the railing and raised her face up to the sun. That was a month ago... it's all forgot and we're fine now. Henry loves me.

But how did you leave your husband this morning? With my name hanging in the air between you...

"It's going to be a lovely day, isn't it?"

"Yes Miss Bates. Lovely."

"Cathy, could you give us a hand?" called Elizabeth.

"Sure."

***

The equipment: nets, balls, hoops, bats, mitts and the like had been unloaded onto the island. Elizabeth had taken a rest on the side of a large rock and was the picture of exhaustion with a cigarette in her mouth.

"Taking a breather?"

"If you must know, yes."

"Well..." said Anne as she threw a blanket down and plopped herself on it and threw the other one behind her head to lay upon the rock. "I hope you don't mind if I join you?"

Please do. I'm dying to hear what you have to say.

"Take a load off," Elizabeth smirked. "Where's Cathy?" she asked as she handed the pack to her friend.

"Taking some of the kids on a hike." She took out a cigarette. "Thanks. It seems your method of keeping busy has settled on her at the same time its left you."

"She needs it." Elizabeth took the pack back, stashed it in her breast pocket and struck a match. "She's been rather pale all morning."

"I tried talking to her, but she insists she's fine." Anne took the light and ignited her cigarette before blowing out the match and digging it into the dirt. "I'll ring Mary's neck for making that poor girl worry... next time I see her."

As much as I'd love to see you try, I'll be otherwise engaged.

"You hesitated there, Anne. I thought you were the confident one."

"Oh, I'm confident alright. But it does make you wonder, doesn't it?"

Elizabeth shrugged and watched the kids play 'Ring Around the Rosey'.

The cigarette made her a little fuzzy, so Anne lay fully back onto the blanket and watched the smoke rings twirl lazily before her. The song 'Ring Around the Rosey. A pocket full of posies' seemed to drift slowly and melodically up from the children's voices and call to her mind her last words. 'Makes you wonder. Makes you wonder.'

"Honey, why are you rushing around so?"

"Oh Rick, you're here!"

Wentworth was taken aback - his wife never rushed and never raised her voice. He went to kiss her but she backed away. "Anne...?"

"Darling, not now! I need you to get the boys cleaned up and keep them that way while I finish cleaning the house!"

He grabbed her hand mid-flail. "What in the world has gotten into you?"

"My father and sister are coming for dinner tonight. Tonight!"

"Oh Lord...!" he groaned and released her.

"I know!" She teared up. "Please, please, please, don't argue?"

"Not unless I'm provoked," he mumbled under his breath. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" he said aloud.

"They just called... out of the blue! An hour ago!"

Before the usual curses normally reserved for her family came, he breathed deeply. "I'll take care of the boys, but why do you need to clean the house?"

"It's just... messy!"

"It's not messy. There is no mess. Besides, isn't that what we pay Mrs. Hill to do?"

"Oh! You don't understand!" she sobbed. "You're just a man!"

Wentworth chuckled and then pulled Anne into his strong embrace. "I want you to listen to me," he said calmly and slowly. "I know this is the first time that they've allowed you to entertain them and I know that you want to make an impression, but you're not going to do anybody any good with this helter-skelter frenzy." She whimpered something inaudible into his chest and he smiled. "May I remind you that under this very roof, you've served more important people than your father and sister. Mayors and Governors have lauded your virtues on keeping a good house, a good table, and fine children." There was a pause as he rubbed his hands up and down her back. "And I love you."

"I love you too." She softly kissed his lips. "Now go and take care of the boys. I'll lay something out for you."

***

"Really Anne!" her elder sister sneered as they walked in the front door. "Brown?! You painted the house, brown?"

"It's not brown," Anne replied calmly. "It's sandstone."

"It's always been white - Antique White. Why on earth would you change it?"

"Rick and..."

"Well, I should've known," she interrupted. "When one comes from the gutter, he most certainly brings the gutter with him."

Anne prayed for strength and gave thanks that her husband was still upstairs with the children.

"Surely, you had some say in the matter?" her father inserted. "This is your house after all."

"Yes, I..."

"And what matter would that be?" Wentworth asked as he came down the stairs. "Good evening."

Both father and sister merely nodded their greeting and walked on through to the living room.

"What matter?" he asked his wife in stage whisper.

"Anne," said her father. "What did you do with all the mirrors?"

"We had them removed."

"Why on earth would you do that? One cannot even adjust their tie or fix their hair."

"That is what the powder room's for," Wentworth infused.

"Hmpfh!" snorted her father.

***

"Did..." Anne cleared her throat. "Would you like to see your... our children before we sit down to table?"

"Heavens no!" spat her sister. "I didn't come here in one of my best dresses to be smeared and splattered with... with whatever children play with."

"Crayons?" asked Wentworth.

Anne looked at him beseechingly.

"And I hope to God they're not joining us at dinner."

"Well... yes, but we..."

"They always join us for dinner," Wentworth interrupted his wife. "Every single night. How else are they to learn good table manners?"

"That's what nurseries and nannies are for."

He was used to being ignored by them, so when his question was addressed, Wentworth paused before answering. "We don't have a nanny."

"You don't have a nanny?!" the father gasped. "Then who raises the children?"

"Anne does."

Father and sister looked at each other with a knowing smirk. "Of course she does." They assumed one could not be afforded.

"Anne, are you happy?"

She startled. "Why... yes, father. Yes."

"Because if you weren't, we could always get the marriage annulled."

Anne winced as though she had been slapped. Wentworth stood up and walked out of the room.

"He may keep the children," added the sister.

***

"I hope you're not using our first set of China, Anne?" her father inquired.

"I..."

"You took that with you when you left," offered Wentworth - he had gone outside to have a cigar and calm down, now he was just returned.

"Oh yes, I remember now, we took those with us," her father uttered as though he was the one who said it first. "How long before dinner?"

"Yes, my dear, how long before dinner?" Obviously the calming influence of a cigar had dissipated with the stale tense air inside of the house.

"I'll go and..."

"No, stay where you are." He gave his wife a withering look. "I'll go."

***

"Darling, a package just arrived for you."

"For me?" Wentworth was surprised to say the least and took the package with confusion and joy. He tore it open with the vigor of a little boy on Christmas morning. "Oh yes!" he cried triumphantly.

"What is it?" asked the sister with little interest.

"Yes dear, what is it?" Anne asked, genuinely interested.

"It's a Y. A. Tittle lithograph with an embossed signature!"

"Oh..." They had no clue.

"Ah! Dear Mary! I knew she would never forget my birthday."

"Your birthday?!" the father blustered - the Elliots would not willingly partake of a celebration for that cad. "Anne, when I asked you, you said you had no special plans..."

Anne gulped. "I did say that..." She forgot. "Happy birthday, Rick. I'm sorry."

"No worries, darling. At least Mary didn't forget."

"Yes..." she smiled through gritted teeth. "Mary Crawford never forgets a thing."

"She is the epitome of elegance," inserted her sister.

"So true!" her father agreed wholeheartedly.

"Now there's something we can all agree on!" Wentworth tipped his wineglass towards his sister-in-law. "Elegance. Style. Class. That's Mary Crawford all rolled into one and nobody does it better than she does." He raised his glass. "A toast! To Mary!"

"Here, here!"

Wentworth savored his drink for a few moments. "I'm just going to put this down somewhere safe, so that I can take it to the framer's in the morning."

"Just put it on the table, Rick," Anne said. "It'll be alright. Dinner is served."

***

"Honestly Anne!" the sister yelped as a bit of carrot flew close to her plate. "The dining room table is no place for children!"

Wentworth groaned; after that one agreeable episode it had gone rapidly downhill since and he was on the ragged end of his tether.

At the harsh tones, one of the boys started to cry, loudly, and is inevitable with twins; the other started to cry as well.

"Get those brats out of here!" she spat. "I forbid you to bring them anywhere near me again!"

"You forbid?!" Wentworth roared. "May I remind you that you don't own or live in this house anymore!"

"Rick..." Anne was trying to calm her children and her husband. "Rick..."

"And as far as I'm concerned, I forbid you to ever enter my house again!" He stomped off.

"Come along, dearest," the father said. "Perhaps we can find peace and quiet in the living room."

Father and sister haughtily left the dining room.

***

After settling her children, Anne returned to living room in the middle of row - a knockdown, drag out, street corner fight.

"I... I can't believe it!" Wentworth was so mad, he was nearly purple in the face. "You knew what this meant to me and you destroyed it on purpose!"

"What is going on here?!"

"We have offered to apologize to Mary...!" the father yelled back.

"Yet, I've received none!" Wentworth threw the ruined lithograph on the table.

"You don't deserve one!" the sister sneered with disdain. "This entire evening, you have been rude, crude and...!"

"Rick..!" Anne pleaded.

"Get out!! Get out of my house!" Wentworth stormed the hallway, opened the closet, grabbed their stuff, opened the front door, and tossed their belongings on the stoop. "Get out of my life!"

"But, but..."

"Say goodbye, Anne!"

"But..."

"Say goodbye, Anne! For this is the last time you will ever see them again!"

Father and sister scurried away from the madman.

***

Anne sat in the chair with her head in her hands, crying. That was the one of the few things that Wentworth could not take; she rarely did it, but when she let the waters flow, he crumbled - a beaten man.

He knelt down beside her and stroked her hand with his thumb. "I'm sorry, honey. I truly am sorry."

"You know my sister..." she sniffled. "You know how she is... why couldn't you just let her blow off steam and leave her be?"

"Leave her be...?" Hypocrisy and weakness were the other two things he did not suffer fools for. "You may be able to let her sit here and ridicule your taste in clothes, paint, china, husbands, whatever... but I'll be damned if I let her upset my children."

"It was only for one night..."

Wentworth uttered a curse word, snatched his hand away from hers, and grabbed onto both sides of the chair she sat in. His wife looked at him; anger and pain were reflected in his eyes. "I remember the Anne that I dated in high school, she kowtowed to her family and put everyone else's opinions before her own - a mere girl who had no choice in the matter, but I loved her anyway because I could see her true self, deep down. I remember the Anne that I married, resilient, calm, caring - a woman that exuded strength from the inside and upon which everyone relied and I loved her. But tonight I see before me, a woman once strong, now reduced to the sniveling coward she was as a mere girl - all in one evening by those very same people who kept her down and broke her spirit so long ago..." His voice cracked. "I want my wife back. Can you tell me where she is?"

"Hide and Go Seek!" screamed one of the children. "Let's play Hide and Go Seek!"

Anne snapped to attention and was momentarily unaware of her surroundings.

"My goodness Anne, you were out cold!" Catherine smiled down at her.

I've been known to have that affect on some people... mostly women. Yet I have quite the opposite affect on men.

"She's helping with snack."

Anne gathered up the blankets. "How was your hike?"

"Exhilarating!" Catherine sighed. "Nothing like country trails to bring everything into perspective."

I've often enjoyed long leisurely treks with Henry.

They walked back down the hillside. "So... you don't take stock in what Mary wrote any longer?"

"I can't do anything about it now, can I?" It may have had a questioning connotation, but Catherine meant it as a statement. "But I'm no longer unprepared for it."

We shall see...

"Well good for you!" Anne cheered.

"Good for you, what?" asked Elizabeth.

"I've decided to take your hard line about things."

"And that is?"

Catherine lifted her chin. "I'm prepared to meet my fate."

Fate. Fortune or doom?

"Excellent!" Elizabeth smiled. "Just going to pop into the ladies to wash my hands."

"I'll go with you. I need to throw some water on my face," Anne said.

"Oh, Private Prepared, would you police the grounds for garbage?"

Shouldn't be much garbage left since you're accustomed to finding it.

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Catherine saluted Elizabeth.

Anne and Elizabeth walked onto another path.

"She's building sandcastles, you know."

"Who?" Anne asked.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Cathy."

"Why would you say that? Her attitude is much improved from this morning."

"She loves Henry more than life itself, she would topple in the wind if it was him."

That's the first sensible thing you've said today, Lizzy.

"While you, on the other hand...?"

Elizabeth wrung her wet hands and grabbed a paper towel. "I don't care."

Anne tossed her paper towel in the trash bin. "I think you do."

"I don't care," she repeated firmly.

Oh, I think you care a great deal.

Anne smiled wanly and walked away.

"I don't care!" she growled at the empty space and tossed her towel away.

A leaky faucet dripped in the silence. The pedantic drip, drip, drip taunted her from long ago. 'I don't care. I don't care.' dribbled annoyingly into 'Yes you do. Yes you do.' - Elizabeth gripped the porcelain sink with both hands.

"Oh, I think I'm gonna lose my mind!" Mrs. Bennet chirped. "I'm trembling and fluttering all over!"

"Oh Lord...! You're happy." Mr. Bennet put his lunchbox down on the kitchen table. "What's happened since I left for work this morning?"

"Lizzy has a date with Mr. Darcy!"

"She... what?"

"A date with Mr. Darcy! God Lou, has working in the factory for 30 years affected your hearing?"

"Oh I heard you, I just can't believe you."

"It's all true! He asked her out this morning! Oh! What a fine thing for our girls!"

"How so? How can a date affect them?"

"Ooh! You take pleasure in pissin' me off! But I'm not gonna to let you - nothin' you say will ever vex me again!"

"I'm sorry to hear that, my dear, but you haven't told me your theory."

"If Lizzy marries Mr. Darcy then that will throw our two girls into the path of other rich men!"

"Spouting off again, Ma?" Elizabeth smirked from the doorway.

"You and your father can tease me all you want, but I'm so happy! I knew you weren't so beautiful for nothin'! I told you, didn't I?"

Mr. Bennet could no longer take the over-excited effusions of his wife. "Lizzy, would you come into my room for a minute?"

"Sure Dad. Give me a second to rinse out my stockings."

He smiled tiredly and walked off.

"Don't you think it's a little late for the birds and bees talk?" Mrs. Bennet called to her husband.

He ignored her, of course.

***

"Are you out of your senses to be acceptin' the advances of a man old enough to be your father?!"

"Daddy..." she sighed. "He's not that old. He's not even 28."

"Well..." Mr. Bennet blustered. "He looks older and you're barely 19."

"I'm 20."

"Oh."

"Are there any other objections to my going out with him, other than his age?"

"We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man, but this would be nothin' if you really liked him."

"I don't know if I like him. This is a first date, Daddy, but he's a good man. That much I do know."

"Well, if that be the case, I have nothing more to say. I trust your judgement, Lizzy."

"Thanks Daddy." She kissed his forehead.

"Get along with you then. I'm sure you have to put your face on or whatever it is that you girls do." He chose a book from the shelf and offered a bit of fatherly advice to his eldest. "I know its summer time, but nothing too short... We don't want to give Mr. Darcy the wrong impression, do we?"

"Definitely not!" Elizabeth smiled at her father before leaving his room.

"If any young men should stop by for Kitty and Lydia, tell them to come in." Mr. Bennet called to her before she closed the door. "I'm quite at leisure!"

***

"This is a very nice restaurant. I've never been here before."

"What?" Darcy was caught off guard with her talking.

"Nice restaurant," she repeated.

"Oh... it's nothing. Just a little place I discovered." He moved closer to her in the booth. "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen." They were ever changing liquid pools - quite mesmerizing.

"Thank you." Elizabeth did not move away from him but raised an eyebrow at his maneuver. "Mr. Chamberlayne is leaving next week."

"Huh?"

"Mr. Chamberlayne."

"What about him?"

"He's leaving next week. Have you decided which one of us will replace him?"

"I hadn't given it much thought," he whispered in her ear. He was powerfully attracted to her on first sight.

"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth hissed low. "I thought we were here to discuss business?"

"Whatever gave you that impression?"

"How about 'Er... Miss Bennet, I'd like to... er... discuss your employment, would dinner suffice?'" she mimicked his deep voice as well as she could. "Was I wrong then?"

"No... no you weren't." He chuckled and sat back - she had him there. That was his premise in asking her out and he would get the business over as quickly as possible. "I understand you're one of our best employees in the... er..."

"On the floor?" she finished for him.

"Yes. And this is your first job?"

"Yes, but I've been with Darcy Electronics before I even graduated high school."

"So you come into the City everyday?"

"Yes. But I'm on a strict schedule in the evenings because I'm furthering my education by attending night school."

"In what?"

"Business Management."

"Management?" He assumed it might've been clothes designing or modeling 101 or even bookkeeping, but he never imagined her buckling down for a business course. "Really?"

"Yes, Mr. Darcy. I have plans."

"Will, please? And what are these plans?"

"First step was the move from mail clerk to Sales Associate, which I did last year," she smiled at him. "Second step is Head Sales Associate. Third step - Sales Manager. Fourth step..."

"I see," he chuckled. "No plans for marriage and children then?"

"None whatsoever. I don't want my wings clipped before I can fly."

"Hmm?" He smiled to himself. This might work out in my favor...

"Now about Mr. Chamberlayne's position..."

"How about a nightcap?"

"Sure, Mr. Darcy," she answered softly but was disappointed that her point had not been carried. "But I've never had one before. What do you recommend?"

"Crème de Menthe is very good. One of my friends highly recommends it."

She hated Crème de Menthe and tried not to frown. "Sure."

Darcy waved to a waiter and placed their order.

"Hey Will!"

"How's it going, Rick?"

"Oh fine. Just stopped in for a nightcap. When you get a minute, stop in the back to say hello. Most of the gang's here."

"Really? Mary too?"

"Of course. She was asking about you earlier..." Wentworth winked.

"When did she get back in town?" Darcy asked excitedly.

"This afternoon."

"Uhurm!" Elizabeth cleared her throat - she was not going to let the mention of another woman interrupt her evening.

"Oh, hello."

"Um, Rick Wentworth meet... er... uh..."

Her eyes narrowed momentarily at Darcy. "Elizabeth Bennet," she finished for him. Again. Then she turned her attention to the newcomer.

"A pleasure."

"Same here. Do you have a light?"

"Right here." Wentworth bent down to light her cigarette.

"Thank you," she smiled seductively.

"You're welcome," he returned the smile.

Darcy threw a scathing look Elizabeth's way then asked politely "Rick, please tell your lovely wife, Anne, and the others that I'll catch up with them later?"

"Will do." He hid a grin. "Nice meeting you... Miss Bennet."

"Likewise."

Wentworth saluted and walked away.

"Come on, let's go."

"But our drinks haven't arrived yet."

"Nevermind them." Darcy threw some bills on the table and jumped out of the booth.

Elizabeth looked at him sideways but complied. "Sure."

Darcy drove her home in a hurry - deathly silent all the way.

He got out of the car and practically ran around to her door. Meanwhile, Elizabeth took her fingernail and dragged it across her calf and thigh.

"Goodnight." He stood impatiently with the door open.

As she swirled around in her seat, the long split in her skirt revealed a very shapely leg. "Oh dear!"

"What?"

"I've got a run in my stockings." She showed it to him and enjoyed his deep intake of breath. "My last pair of good silk," she pouted.

"I'll... er... reimburse... you," Darcy stammered his offer.

"You're so sweet!" Elizabeth purred. "But you really don't have to."

"No trouble at all."

"Thank you." She stood up with the help of his extended hand. "I had a lovely time at dinner."

He stared at her intently for a moment - looking for a sign that she didn't want to go home right then. "So did I."

His look froze her to the spot. "Goodnight," Elizabeth whispered demurely.

Darcy swallowed and looked away. "Goodnight."

***

HONK! HONK!

"He is here! He is here!" Mrs. Bennet shrieked.

"Yeah Ma, we hear him."

"Go get your coat girl! And don't stay out too late."

Elizabeth sat down at the kitchen table.

"What are you doin'?!"

"I'm waiting."

"For what?!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes to the heavens. "I know what I'm doin', alright."

HONK! HONK!

"Lizzy! Get up or he'll leave!"

"Keep your voice down. I said I know what I'm doin'. If he wants me, he'll come and get me."

"Who put such a notion in your head, girl? It surely wasn't me! This is all your father's fault!"

"He won't leave, Ma."

"Oh you have no compassion on my poor nerves!" Mrs. Bennet fretted. "He'll leave and I'll never forgive you for it! I'll just..."

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"See?" Elizabeth smirked.

Mrs. Bennet sighed in relief and ran to open the door. "Coming!" She calmed herself and ran a cursory hand through her hair then she opened the door. "Mr. Darcy, I presume?"

"Er... yes. Mrs. Bennet?"

"That would be me."

"Is Elizabeth here?"

"Indeed she is! She's in the kitchen."

"We have 8:00 pm reservations."

Darcy stood there with a contemptuous look on his face; he was not used to such squalor and wondered if he might catch something.

"Won't you come in?"

He hesitated - for a long while. "Yes. Thank you."

"Right this way."

Darcy followed Mrs. Bennet into the kitchen.

"Darling, Mr. Darcy is here for you."

"I'll be right out, Mother dear." Elizabeth called from the bedroom. "Thank you."

An awkward silence ensued, but Mrs. Bennet was never one to be silent or to even understand it. "So...?"

"So."

"Would you like a beer?"

"No thank you."

"Well, I'm a little thirsty myself. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not."

At that moment, the 7:15 pm Pemberley Express train rumbled on the tracks just beyond, shaking the house to its foundation. Darcy held on for dear life as Mrs. Bennet calmly went about getting herself a brew.

Elizabeth stepped out of the bedroom a moment after the train had passed. "I'm ready."

Darcy didn't say anything; he just stared at her.

"Goodnight Mother. I won't be out too late." She blew a kiss to her mother and grabbed onto Darcy's arm guiding him out the front door.

***

"You have a beautiful home, Mr. Darcy." This was no lie. It was her first visit to his home and it was decorated to the hilt for the Holidays.

"Why won't you call me, Will?"

"That would prove confusing at the store." Elizabeth was still miffed that he chose Harriet Smith as Head Sales Associate instead of her.

Darcy came up behind her and placed his arms around her waist. "But we've been going out for several months now."

That same thrilling sensation ran through her every time he touched her or looked at her or spoke to her, but she was nevertheless quite putout. "I wouldn't necessarily call it 'going out'. In between business trips, you invite me to dinner once or twice a month. I would hardly..."

He nuzzled her neck. "But you're always so busy with night school."

She couldn't help but close her eyes. "Still. I work for you."

"It could be more than just dinner, Elizabeth... Way more."

"How much more?"

His hands started to move up past her waist.

"Mr. Darcy!" She wrenched herself free. "The fire. The fire's dying down."

"Isn't it though." He looked at her steadily before focusing his attention on putting more logs on.

Elizabeth walked around the great room towards a grand piano to calm her weakening state - there she noticed a gold-framed picture. "Who's this?"

"A very good friend of mine."

"Mary Crawford?"

"Yes." He moved beside her. "How did you know?"

She studied the woman carefully. "You've mentioned her often enough," she raised an eyebrow to him.

He looked at it briefly but fondly. "Mary gave it to me Christmas last year... I just never thought to find another place for it."

"She's very beautiful."

Darcy kissed her shoulder. "Yes, she is. Beautiful. Stylish. Elegant."

Elizabeth moved away. "Everything a man could want," she said cattily.

"And what do you want, Miss Bennet?" He was tired of her games.

"What do I want?"

"Yes. What exactly do you want?"

She calmly looked directly at him to gauge his reaction. "I want to be in a gold-framed picture on somebody's grand piano."

"We've gone over this before, Elizabeth. I don't want to get married."

"Then stop torturing me." She turned away to hide the hurt. "Let's end this then."

"I'm not ready for it to end... and neither are you." He reached for her.

"No!" She pushed him away. "I can't do this. I won't." Tears threatening but she held them in check and stood her ground by facing him squarely. "Promise me you'll leave me alone?"

His jaw tightened as did his eyes and lips and several icy minutes of a stare-down ensued. "Fine," he relented in a cool steady voice.

"Would you take me home, please?"

"I'll call you a cab."

"Thanks."

***

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Would you get that, Lizzy?"

"Sure, Ma."

"Happy New Year Lizzy! What's shakin'?"

"Nothin' George. Come on in and take a load off."

"Thanks."

Wickham sat down in the living room.

"I'll be with you in a second, baby!" came a distant call.

"We got time, sweet cheeks!" George grinned. "So... uh...?"

"Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet interrupted. "Your Daddy and me are gonna play Bingo over at the fire station, you wanna come with?" She was no longer mad at her eldest daughter for breaking up with Mr. Darcy; she felt sorry for her.

"Looks like more than just Bingo, Ma. You look positively fabulous!"

"Thank you, honey." She blushed. "I suppose there might be a little dancing tonight too."

Elizabeth couldn't help but smile; her Christmas gift to her mother was the red silk blouse, black skirt and shoes that she was wearing.

"Oh, hi George!"

"Hey Mrs. B. Nice get-up."

"Thank you! My Lizzy and her fine tastes," she tittered and fidgeted with the necklace that was tangled in her hair. "Kitty's already gone out and your Daddy's already at the station, so..."

"Here, Ma. Let me help you with that." Elizabeth escorted her mother down the hall.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Would you get that, George?"

"Sure thing, Lizzy!" He bounced to open the door. "Hello!" he choked.

"Who are you?" he glared.

"I, I, I'm George Wickham, Mr. Darcy," he trembled. "I, I, I work in the m, m, mailroom at your J, J, Jersey City store. Sir."

"Are you here for Miss Bennet?"

"Y, Y, Yes."

He towered over him and menacingly looked down upon him. "I don't think so."

"I'm ready, George!" came a voice from the other side of the room. "Oh! Who are you?"

"William Darcy. Who are you?"

"Lydia Bennet."

George took the opportunity to escape Darcy's terror and ran over to his girlfriend. "Wow! Lydia, you look great!"

"Thanks baby." She kissed his mouth lightly and grabbed his arm. "Nice to make your acquaintance."

"See ya... Mr. Darcy, sir."

Darcy turned with them but only nodded as they left the house.

"What are you doin' here?" Elizabeth stood in the doorway.

He turned to look at her - bandana tied haphazardly around her wild curls, raggedy jeans, and flannel shirt. "Get dressed."

"You were supposed to leave me alone, remember?"

He fashioned his stony gaze on hers. "I remember a lot of things I'm supposed to do, yet I do whatever I please."

She walked away from him towards the kitchen. "But I asked you nicely."

Darcy followed. "We're set to meet at Mary Crawford's in an hour for drinks. Get dressed."

"Mary Crawford's?"

"Yes."

"Mary Crawford's? Am I allowed? Did you tell her you were bringing me?"

"I didn't tell her anything. I don't have to."

"You sure she won't throw me out on my a... on my behind when she finds out who I am and where I'm from?"

"We don't have time for 20 questions. Get dressed."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Elizabeth..." He was in front of her in two long strides.

Chills shot up and down her spine each time he said her full-first name. She took a step back and was trapped in the corner by the refrigerator. "You don't own me, Mr. Darcy," she said defiantly although she didn't feel it.

As soon as he looked down into her fine eyes, he was a goner. "You win." He closed his eyes. "You win."

"I win what?" she asked in a breathy confusion.

"I'll marry you."

Elizabeth choked down a sob. "No thank you. I'll take door number two."

"What is it that you want from me?" he gritted. "I already said I'd marry you, what else do you want?"

"I want more," she whispered.

"Baby, I'm the best offer you're ever going to get."

Several moments passed in silence - an eternity to both.

"Alright."

"Finally!" he exclaimed.

Then Darcy pulled Elizabeth into his arms and kissed her, passionately.

Mrs. Bennet came flying around the corner. "Lizzy, I'm off to..."

She pulled away from the lip-lock. "Guess what, Ma! We're getting married!"

"Bingo..." Mrs. Bennet fainted to the floor.

***

Elizabeth had a hearty breakfast waiting for her husband on the first new day of their marriage - she was so excited she couldn't stand herself. Her joy, on this morning of mornings, had no boundaries. Who knew that the previous night would be so wondrous? She trembled in delight thinking about it and stared at him; willing him to awaken.

Finally, Darcy opened one eye. "Elizabeth..."

"Good morning, darling!" She kissed him, lovingly and long. "I have breakfast right here for you."

He raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Breakfast... in bed?"

"Yes," she smiled - suddenly shy.

"Thank you." He sat up and smiled as she placed the tray on his lap. "This is nice." He dug in quickly.

"Where are we going on our honeymoon? I hope it's somewhere warm. You never did tell me."

"You never asked."

"Well, you wanted to get married as soon as possible which meant that I had to find a dress that I liked in a week's time. I hardly saw you to ask you anything."

"Umhm," he nodded his head - it only interrupted his plate-to-mouth action momentarily.

"So...?"

"So?"

"Where are we going?"

"Right here."

"Wha...?!"

"You wanted to get married, you didn't say anything about a honeymoon."

She was getting upset and tried to calm herself. "I didn't think I had to say anything."

There was silence, except for Darcy eating his breakfast.

"Well...?"

"What?"

"I'm asking you now."

"I'm only going to give you same answer."

"But... why?" she pouted.

"This is exactly the reason I didn't want to get married in the first place. I don't have the time."

"Alright," she answered softly. "Perhaps when you check on one of your businesses, in say... Japan, we can make arrangements to stay over for a few days."

"That's not possible. When I go away for business, I don't like distractions."

"But I'm your wife."

"You're still a distraction." His fork clattered to his plate. "Look, I agreed to marry you, that should be enough for you."

"Fitzwilliam!" she hissed. Elizabeth wasn't doing a very good job of keeping herself calm.

"Instead of crying over a lost honeymoon, go shopping."

"How can you be so... so thoughtless?"

"You married me for my money," Darcy spat. "Go spend it."

"Ooooh!" In her haste to get out of the bed and away from him, Elizabeth upended the breakfast tray and Darcy was wearing most of it.

***

"Did you have to dance with every single man in the place?" Darcy sneered as he donned his pajama bottoms.

"You sound jealous," Elizabeth smirked as she slid out of her robe and got into the bed.

"I'm not jealous. You were making a spectacle of yourself at the Tilneys anniversary, for goodness sakes."

"Isn't that what you married me for? To look good. To be charming." To be like Mary Crawford...

Darcy sat on the edge of the bed. "I married you for a completely different reason."

"Oh that's right. How could I forget..." Elizabeth said tiredly.

"And I'm in need of it right now." He laid back on the pillows next to her. "Two months in Europe is entirely too long to be away from your charms."

"No."

"Pardon me?"

"I said 'no'."

"That was part of the bargain, my dear," he whispered in her ear.

"That bill of sale is long forgot and the store is closed. Come back next year."

"I'm sure I could convince you to... re-open my account," he caressed her arm.

"Stop it, Will!" She brushed him away and sat up. "Stop treating me like a piece of merchandise!"

"Aren't you?!" he spat his question and sat up as well.

"Not now! Not ever!"

"You signed your name on the dotted line! You can't change your mind in the middle of the game!"

"Well I just did!" She scooted out of the bed. "This is all just a game to you!"

"You played me first!"

"I did not! I... I..." Elizabeth held her tears at bay. "I'm tired, Will. I'm tired."

"I'm tired too." He laid back in exhaustion and frustration. "Now come to bed."

"No."

"Fine then," he pouted. "Don't come to bed... what do I care?"

"You never did." She put on her slippers and robe. "And it's too late to do anything about it," she said tremulously.

"Hmpfh!" he snorted derisively. "It's not like I had any encouragement to care."

Now that hurt. "So what do we do? Do I finally bow down to you or should we end it?"

"Lizzy!" came a distant call. "Lizzy!"