Hatfield Orchard

Title: Hatfield Orchard
Author: ExcentrykeMuse
Fandoms: Pride & Prejudice / Twilight Saga
Pairings: Bella/Darcy, (previous) Darcy/Elizabeth, Jane/Bingley
Word Count: 9.5k
Rating: PG
Warnings: Volturi vampires, time travel, mental manipulation, class system, illegitimate children, jealous Elizabeth
Summary: Bella notices Darcy across a crowded room.  Only, Darcy has noticed her first…

Hatfield Orchard

“Do you not think?” Bella asked.

Elizabeth Bennet was not paying attention.  She was decidedly looking across the room. 

Bella followed her line of sight and noticed one of the gentlemen was standing with his coffee and looking out the window.  It was dark out so Bella supposed he could only see his reflection.

“Which one is that?” Bella inquired.

Elizabeth blinked and looked at her.  “Oh, forgive me, Miss Swan, I was not attending.”

“The gentleman at the window.”  She inclined her head toward him.  “He came with Mr. Bingley.”

Blushing, Elizabeth decidedly did not look in his direction.  “That is Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.”

Bella had heard the name since she had come into the neighborhood.  She had been lulled into a false sense of contentment by Corin before being physically pushed into the nineteenth-century by an unknown vampire.  She found herself with references, a trunk, and a lease on a small property in Hertfordshire.  It fortunately came with a skeletal staff although she chose to do most of the cooking herself because she couldn’t figure out to do most of the day before the invitations from the neighborhood came flooding in.

“He is staying at Netherfield with Mr. Bingley?” Bella checked.  She looked toward the other young man who was speaking with another Bennet daughter.  “I understand they were both in the neighborhood last Autumn.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed as she took another sip of her coffee, “they were both in residence.  Mr. Bingley gave a ball at Netherfield.  It was the talk of the neighborhood.”

Bella lifted an eyebrow.  A ball.  She did not know how to dance.  She wondered if her parlor maid knew.  “Do you think he will give another?” Bella wondered.

“I understand,” Elizabeth shared, “that he did not bring his sisters this Autumn.  It is just a hunting party.”

Almost sighing in relief, Bella looked back over at Mr. Darcy who decidedly must be looking at his reflection.  What else was there to look at?

“Mr. Bingley looks much occupied with your—elder sister?” she checked.

Elizabeth’s lips lifted in a small smile.  “My elder sister, yes, Miss Bennet.  Jane.”

“Miss Bennet,” Bella repeated.  “Forgive me.  You are the second—” She waited for Elizabeth to nod “—of four sisters?”

“Five, my youngest sister, Mrs. Wickham, is married.”

Mr. Darcy shifted uncomfortably at the window.  It was almost as if he were listening.  Peculiar.  Bella did not think he was close enough.

Elizabeth, too, seemed slightly uncomfortable.

“How—fortunate—for your mother,” Bella tried, looking for something to say, “to have a daughter married.”

Grasping on the conversation topic, Elizabeth asked, “and you, Miss Swan.  Your mother did not come with you.”

This was quite the sticking point.   Only Corin came to see her, to lull her into a false sense of comfort.  Bella knew what she was doing, but couldn’t stop the effect from taking place.  Corin also barely looked like she was older than twenty, so couldn’t possibly pass for an older relation.

“My parents are quite gone,” Bella explained, thinking of how she left Charlie a note before leaving for Volterra with Alice.  He had no idea if she were dead or alive.  Bella supposed she was quite dead in the twenty-first century as she was no longer there.  “I am quite independent.”

Elizabeth reached out and pressed Bella’s hand.  “How tragic.  That must be how you inherited Hatfield Orchard.  The Hatfields quite disappeared from it—both Mr. Hatfield and his sister.”

Bella forced a smile.  “Everything seems quite accounted for,” she agreed.  There had even been a book beside her bed on proper modes of speech.  She had read it cover to cover the first night.  Now Bella was quite able to mimic its contents.  Turning the conversation, Bella told Elizabeth, “I am quite grateful for the friendship of the neighborhood, including the Bennet family.”

Elizabeth smiled.  “We are not ones to allow a neighbor to languish without a proper introduction.  Now you have been introduced to us and to the Lucases, you will receive invitations to all of Meryton society.”

“A dinner party is a most pleasant way to spend an evening,” Bella agreed.  “It is quite lonesome to eat alone at table.”  Bella, over the past three weeks, had sat in the library with a candle, reading a book as she ate.  She had been quite surprised when a Sir William Lucas had called on her and introduced himself.  Mr. Bennet of Longbourn had been not far behind him, with this invitation from his wife.

Darcy moved from the window and placed his empty coffee cup on the serving table.

“Oh dear,” Elizabeth sighed.  “Do you think Mr. Darcy needs another cup?  I think we may be quite out!”  She curtseyed and quickly left in search of her mother.

Darcy, however, did not linger at the coffee table.  Instead, he walked back to the window, and took up a pose, his arms held behind his back.  Bella caught a glance at him and was surprised to see him looking back at her.

They had been removed from each other at the dinner table so had not been introduced, so they could not now speak in the living room, but Bella nodded her head at him carefully and he nodded back.

When the carriages were called, the guests milled about in the entryway, the servants going and getting their cloaks and hats, and Bella found herself standing next to Mr. Darcy.

“Oh, excuse me,” she apologized when she accidentally elbowed him when she tried to put on her gloves.  “It is a little close in here.”

“Indeed, Madam,” he responded, “but the fault is mine.”

She looked up at him with her expressive violet eyes and offered him a small smile.  “We shall agree to disagree.”  The door opened and her driver appeared.  “Ah, this is me.—Goodnight, Mr. Darcy.”  She took a step toward the door, but he stopped her:

“I did not get your name.  We were on the opposite sides of the table.”

She turned to him, eyes wide and guileless.  “Bella Swan—of Hatfield Orchard.  It is the estate north of Meryton on the post road.”

“Indeed,” he answered carefully, regarding her.  “Goodnight, Miss Swan.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Darcy,” then she swept out of the house.

The night was a bit chilly for Autumn, and she quickly entered the carriage.  When she arrived back at Hatfield Orchard, there was a warm fire in her bedchamber and she allowed Mary to undress her and bundle her up into bed.

It had been weeks since she had sleepless nights, waking in the night screaming, feeling like there was a hole in her heart.  Corin had lulled her into a false sense of security.  Edward’s image was now hazy in her mind’s eye.  She tried to recall him and his handsome face, but as she lay in bed that night, another face came to mind.  Bella fell to sleep with a smile on her lips.

The next morning, Bella was sitting in the library with a Mrs. Radcliffe novel when Mary entered, saying a gentleman was there to see her.

A little surprised, Bella asked, “Does he have a card?”

Marry entered the room and handed one to her.

Looking down, Bella saw it was Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.  “Show him in,” she instructed.

Secreting away the book, Bella stood to receive him and offered him a small smile when he entered.  “Mr. Darcy.”

“Miss Swan.”  He bowed to her and she obligingly curtseyed.  She had had to practice that for two days in the mirror to get it right.  Darcy paused.  “I understood from Mr. Bennet that you accepted introductions.”

“I do,” she agreed.  “I have no father to accept them for me.”  She indicated that he should sit.

He nodded.  “It is most unusual that a young woman in your position does not have a companion.”

Bella considered for a moment.  “I wouldn’t know how to find one.—What if we didn’t get on?”

“I could make inquiries—” he offered politely.  “My sister Georgiana has a companion.”

“Does-Does Miss Darcy like her companion?” Bella asked carefully, uncertain what else to say.

Darcy seemed a little confused by the question.  “She has made no complaints.”

Bella nodded.  “Corin comes and visits—”

Darcy looked still more confused.

Waving her hand to indicate Darcy should think no more of it, Bella shifted in her seat and tried to think of another subject.  “How long do you and Mr. Bingley intend to remain in Hertfordshire?  I understand from Miss Elizabeth Bennet that you quit quite suddenly last Autumn.”

“We are here for some weeks,” Darcy answered, now looking slightly uncomfortable.  “Bingley is calling on the Bennets just now.”

Bella wasn’t entirely sure what that meant.  “Are they great friends?”

Darcy paused.  “There may be a connection in the coming weeks between Bingley and the eldest Miss Bennet,” he told her carefully.

Bella had no idea what that meant.  She waited for Darcy to expand on his meaning, but he remained sitting, regarding her.  When he continued to just sit there, she admitted, “I don’t know what you mean.”

He blinked at her.  “Miss Bennet may soon give up the name of Bennet.”

Bella leaned forward, to indicate that he should expand, but he settled back into his seat.  She thought for a moment.  “Are you telling me, Mr. Darcy, that Mr. Bingley went to Longbourn to propose to Miss Jane Bennet?”

“Quite so, though I would never say so quite so plainly.”

Bella sighed.  “They did talk at great length last night.  I suppose I should call tomorrow to offer my congratulations.  That’s the sort of thing young ladies do, right?” she looked at him to check.

“I understand that it is so,” he confirmed.

She nodded.  She had never really thought about marriage before.  Bella was, after all, a high school student.  High school students in twenty-first century America didn’t exactly go around getting married directly after high school, at least not in Forks.

“You must be pleased for your friend,” Bella suggested.

Darcy considered.  “I am pleased that he is pleased.”

That was a nonanswer. 

They fell into silence again.

“Miss Swan—” “Mr. Darcy—”

Bella blushed.  “You were saying?”

“A lady should speak first.”  He looked at her with his impossibly green eyes. 

“I was only going to ask you if you would like tea despite the earliness of the hour.  What were you going to say?”

“I was going to suggest that we go for a walk.  You seem to have a pleasant garden among the larger orchard.”

Bella honestly hadn’t noticed.  It had rained the last week so Bella hadn’t gone exploring.  She looked out the window and noticed it was green.  She hated that color.

“You wish to—walk—with me?” she asked, thinking this might be some sort of courtship ritual. 

“If it should please you.”  He was regarding her again clearly expecting an affirmative answer.

She looked out the window again.  “I think I saw a gardener last week,” she commented, stalling for time.

He nodded.  “It would not be unsurprising that a gardener should come with the house.”

“I have a housemaid, a coachman, and a cook.”  She leaned back and looked back out the window.  She didn’t see a gardener now.  He must be somewhere else.  Edward had liked taking her to their meadow.  She didn’t suppose she had a meadow. 

She took a deep breath and stood, indicating her answer.  He quickly stood and went to open the door for her, so she could walk through.  Going out into the hall, she dithered before going to a door and looking inside.  She found his hat and cane and handed them out to him.  “Did you have gloves?” she inquired.

“Miss Swan, your maid—”

“Mary is probably in the kitchen,” she dismissed, going into the closet and wishing there were electricity.  She found her gloves and pelisse.  “I think I should have a bonnet somewhere,” she mused to herself.

“Come out,” he suggested, reaching in and taking her arm.

Allowing it, she was stunned when Darcy himself went into the closet and came out a few minutes later with his gloves and what was decidedly a bonnet.  Bella accepted it with a soft smile and carefully tried to put it on, not tying the ribbons as that would be quite beyond her.

Darcy then carefully opened the front door and she led him out to the sunshine.

“It seems to have stopped raining,” she noticed, looking up into the cloudy sky.  There weren’t rain clouds.  “We are quite safe from the weather.”

“Is Hertfordshire not your native county, Miss Swan?” Darcy asked as he offered her his arm. 

“No,” she told him carefully.

They walked around the house into what was decidedly a garden.  Bella looked around her in wonder.

“I did not know this was here,” she admitted.

“You should explore your own property,” Darcy suggested.  “We have excellent gardens at Pemberley.  If you enjoy this, you will certainly enjoy ours.”

Bella found this comment peculiar, but didn’t answer.  Instead, she walked forward and smelled a late season rose.  “Renee—my mother—could never make anything grow,” she told Darcy.  “Everything she touched would wither and die.  We could not keep a single houseplant.  I had a goldfish when I was seven, and it died within a week.”

“How unfortunate,” Darcy commiserated.  “You may now have fresh cut flowers in the house if you wish.”

“Yes,” Bella mused.  “I suppose I could.  Perhaps I should ask Mary about it.”

“Roses would look most fetching in your library,” Darcy continued.  “Is that your favorite room?”

Bella turned back to him and saw him standing on the path, regarding her instead of the roses.  “I do enjoy to read,” she agreed.  “I like nothing better.”

Nodding, he offered his arm again.  She came over and took it and they continued their walk. 

“The expansion of one’s mind is indeed a noble pursuit,” he was now telling her.  “If you ever run out of your own books, you should come to Netherfield and peruse our library.  I am certain Bingley will not mind.”

“I find all my new neighbors are so accommodating,” Bella noted.  “I am certain it is only a matter of time where they all get bored of me.”

“You will become a known quantity,” Darcy agreed, “but that does not mean they will be bored of you.  Wherever a young lady of quality goes, she will certainly be an ornament to the occasion.”

Stunned, Bella turned and looked up into Darcy’s green gaze.  He looked unfailingly back at her, and she nodded carefully.

“Why did you choose Hertfordshire?” Darcy asked when they began to walk again.

“I did not choose it,” Bella confessed.  “It was chosen for me.”

“Did you inherit it?”

“It is leased,” Bella told him, “or so I understand.  My guardians wished to see me comfortable.”  Corin wished to see her very comfortable and compliant.  Lord Aro wanted her away from Edward, and he wanted Edward and Alice in his guard—without distractions.  Placing her in the past, before either of them were born, ensured that she would be long dead before they could find her.

“It is very comfortable,” Darcy agreed, “for a single lady with no great needs.  I wonder what the decision on Hertfordshire was.”

Bella shrugged.  “I honestly could not say.”

Darcy looked down at her, his eyes bright.  “We shall call it a happy coincidence.”

Confused, Bella repeated, “A happy coincidence?”

“A happy coincidence that we should meet.  I almost did not return to Hertfordshire, but Bingley was so persistent that my presence was required.”

“Well,” Bella decided.  “Lucky that Mr. Bennet should introduce himself to me then.”  She looked away and blushed.

If Mr. Darcy seemed contented, Bella chose not to comment.

Bella watched from the window when Darcy rode away three quarters of an hour later.  It was peculiar that he should see her at a dinner and decide on her.  She had thought that he regarded Elizabeth Bennet during dinner, who had sat opposite him, but perhaps she had been mistaken.  It could have been that Elizabeth was in his line of sight.  Darcy also may not have noticed Bella until they were taking coffee.  They had, also, never been introduced, a fault on Mrs. Bennet’s part, surely.

Bella looked again at his card and thought it was elegant. 

She had a stack of cards with her name that she had found tucked into a desk.  She would have to start carrying them.

The next day was similarly cloudy but fine, and Bella asked for the carriage to be made ready a little before teatime.  Going to Longbourn, she was unsurprised to see Bingley there, sitting with the eldest Miss Bennet.

“I understand congratulations are in order,” she greeted the room at large, going and sitting beside Elizabeth.

Jane Bennet blushed.

“How did you know, Miss Swan?” Bingley asked from his place.  “We had not announced our engagement.”

“Mr. Darcy might have mentioned something,” Bella confessed, accepting a dish of tea.

“By Jove!” Bingley smiled.  “He did know I was coming.”

“Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth gasped, looking over at her.

“Indeed,” Bella agreed.  “He came to introduce himself.”

Elizabeth looked at her suspiciously.  It was clear that she thought there was more that Bella was not telling here, and of course there was.  However, Bella was not going to announce it to the Drawing Room that Darcy had called on her in order to promenade.

And that is what they had done—they had gone on a promenade, albeit in the garden.  Bella had ransacked her library after he had gone and found a “Guide to the London Season” which had an entire section on promenading with gentlemen.

Bella wondered if Darcy would come again.

She did not have long to wait.

Three days later, Darcy came to call at Hatfield Orchard.  Bella was in the kitchen making sourdough bread when Mary came in with his calling card.

Bella wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, accidentally getting flour in her hair.  “Oh dear,” she admitted, looking down at herself.  She was wearing an apron, but her pink muslin was not at its freshest.

There was nothing for it.  She wiped her hands off on her apron and Mary helped her out of it before handing her a cloth.  Bella looked down at it in confusion.  Mary made a swiping motion across her face.  Blushing, Bella wiped down her face with the cloth before handing it back.

Darcy was looking at the book on London Society when Bella found him in the library. 

“I hope I did not keep you waiting long,” she asked, hoping she looked presentable.

He closed the book and set it down.  “Not at all, Miss Swan,” he assured her.  His eyes traveled to her hairline.  “Miss Swan, I believe you have flour in your hair.”

Blushing, Bella reached for her hair and realized there was no hope for it.  “I was baking,” she admitted.  “I find it soothing.”  She smoothed back her hair and hoped that she wasn’t just spreading it.  “Is that better?”

He hesitated.

“Amuse yourself,” she instructed before withdrawing from the room.

Mary was waiting on the other side of the door.

“Send in tea,” Bella instructed.  “It seems I still look like a baker woman.”

“I am sorry, mum.  I did try to tell you.”

Not hard enough, Bella thought uncharitably.

She hurried up the stairs to her bedchamber where she had a looking glass.  The damage wasn’t too bad, only a trace of flour at her hairline.  She licked her hand and slicked back her hair, disappearing the flour.  Checking her appearance one last time, Bella went down.

Standing outside the Library door, she took a deep breath and entered.

Mary had fortunately brought the tea.

“Shall I serve?” she inquired, coming in with a smile plastered on her face.

Corin had visited yesterday and had calmed all her fears concerning Darcy’s attentions to her.  She felt more complacent in regard to her future.  It had been explained to her.  She would live at Hatfield Orchard under a lease until such time when she would marry.  Her children would inherit her incredible gifts—her mind was silent to both Edward and Aro—and would make excellent vampires in eighty to one hundred years’ time.

Darcy looked up at her, a small smile on his face.

“I wished the bride well,” she explained as she washed out the teapot, just as Corin had showed her.  “Mr. Bingley seemed surprised that I should know of the engagement.”

“I did not tell him of my destination when I came last week.”

Bella nodded.  “Miss Elizabeth was most surprised that you should tell me.”  She set the tea to brewing.  She wondered what blend the house had in the kitchen.  She had no idea how long it should brew.  Bella had always drunk herbal blends because that’s what Renee liked, but this was certainly black tea.

“Miss Elizabeth has always had decided opinions,” Darcy warned her.  “I would pay it no mind.”

Bella, drugged into complacency, accepted the answer.

She splashed milk into a cup and then began to pour the cup.  She assumed that because milk was provided, the tea probably required it.  Handing it to Darcy, she inquired, “Do you know if a date has been set for the wedding?  Shall you be staying for it?”  She looked up into his verdant gaze.

“Bingley has ridden to London for a Special License.”

“Then it will be sooner rather than later?”  She remembered something about special licenses.  Usually banns had to be read for three Sundays prior to the wedding unless there was some reason for the marriage to take place sooner.

“Mrs. Bennet needs a full month to plan, I understand.”

Bella was confused.  She splashed milk into her own teacup and served herself.

“Early December then,” Bella decided.  She glanced at Darcy to check if she had the right of it.  He inclined his head.  A Special License then for reasons that evaded her, but a month until the wedding.  “As a member of the parish I assume I can attend?”

“I am certain the Bennets will invite you, but, yes, as a member of the parish—”

She nodded.  Bella had never been to a Regency wedding.  She understood from Jane Bennet that she would be wearing yellow.  White did not seem to be in vogue as of yet.

They elapsed into silence.

Bella snatched on the only piece of news that she had: “I received a letter from Lord Wrexham.”  Corin had undoubtedly arranged it or some other vampire connected to the Volturi.  The Swans of Wrexham, it appeared, were a titled family in Wales and Bella, as an undoubted Swan, was now being adopted as one of their number.  Someone had obviously compelled a Wrexham or reminded Lord Wrexham of a niece he had forgotten he had.

“I know Henry Swan,” Darcy admitted.  “He is a member of my club.”

That was certainly interesting.  Corin had left a Wrexham family tree for Bella, which she had found when she was going through the desk in the study.  Henry Swan was Lord Wrexham’s nephew.  He was also, according to the family tree, Bella’s second cousin.

“How is Henry?” Bella inquired, as she felt like she should.

She offered Darcy a cake and he took it.

“He was well when I saw him a few months ago.  He was betting on the darling of society and whom she would marry.  I believe he won forty pounds.”

Bella’s eyebrows rose.  “Lucky Henry,” she commented.

Darcy regarded her.  “Did Lord Wrexham send for you?”  He asked this carefully and he was even more careful to seem unaffected.

Regarding him, Bella took a sip of her tea.  “He invited me to Town for Christmastide.”  Yes, Corin or some other vampire had certainly whispered in someone’s ear.  It was the only explanation.  “Will you be in Town for Christmas or will you go to Pemberley?”

“I will be in Town,” Darcy answered.  “Perhaps we will see each other there.”

Bella smiled at him.

After tea, they went back out into the rose garden.  The day was a little sunnier and Bella was glad for the bonnet.  Bella looked out toward the meadows beyond the house and thought of how she and Edward would lie among the grasses, the sunlight reflecting off of his diamond skin.  The thought did not bring her pain as it once had.

Darcy was completely human, his eyes a deep verdant green.  She rather liked his eyes.  While he was unchangeable and difficult to read, his eyes told a different story.

When they came back in, Mary presented Bella with an invitation to the Lucas’s.  It seemed they were to have a gathering at the next full moon. 

“I have not met Sir William or Lady Lucas,” Bella admitted as she saw Darcy to the door. 

“Sir William is the leading member of Meryton society,” Darcy told her.  “He enjoys introducing couples into the dance together.”

“Does he?” Bella wondered.  Perhaps she should ask Corin if she knew how to dance, next time she came.  “Is it likely to be dancing at such a gathering?”

“Not without Mrs. Wickham to demand it.  She is in the North with her husband.”

Bella nodded.  Elizabeth Bennet mentioned that her youngest sister was Mrs. Lydia Wickham.  She seemed displeased at the association.  “Is Mrs. Wickham to come for Miss Bennet’s wedding?” she asked, only half caring for the answer.

Darcy hesitated.  “That is yet to be seen.”

Bella took the answer at face value.

She watched at Darcy rode away and wondered why he would fix on her and not a society lady in London.  There was nothing to particularly recommend her.  She had no one to ask but Darcy himself, and she wouldn’t dare to.  It was clear that such things just weren’t done in Regency England.

If she knew Elizabeth Bennet better Bella would ask her, but Elizabeth seemed just as confused at Darcy’s preference as Bella was.

She looked down at the invitation in her hand.  She had no idea when the next full moon was.  She would have to see if the study had a farmer’s almanac.

Surprisingly, Jane Bennet came to call, unaccompanied by her mother or any of her sisters.

Jane Bennet was by far the prettiest of any of the Bennet sisters, with honey blonde curls and deep brown eyes.

Bella served tea and was glad she had not been making sour bread in the kitchen and had finished the apple pie she had been baking earlier that morning.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Bella inquired as she passed Jane her dish of tea.

Jane accepted prettily and took a biscuit, which Bella had made herself just a few days earlier.  They had orange zest in them and brown sugar glazing.  It was a recipe she had invented herself.

“It is Elizabeth,” Jane confessed.

“Elizabeth?” Bella asked confused, taking her own cup of tea.

“I must be indelicate,” Jane told her apologetically.  “Mr. Darcy proposed to Elizabeth.”

Bella looked up, shocked.  “He did?  When?”

Jane blushed.  “Last April—in Kent.”

Bella instantly relaxed.  That was seven months previously.  A lot could change in seven months and clearly a lot had.  “She turned him down, I’m assuming.”

“Yes,” Jane agreed, “but she had reason to believe he would renew his addresses in July.”

Well, that was four months ago, Bella thought.

She realized she was getting rather territorial over Mr. Darcy, at least in her head, and he had only come to call twice.  It’s not like he had come to pick her up for school in his car.  They weren’t “going steady.”  Nothing like that.  But she did think she had some sort of claim on him.  He was good looking in a tall, dark and handsome sort of way.  She nearly smiled to herself, but she quickly caught herself.

“Does she think he’s going to renew his addresses now?” Bella asked carefully.

“She had hoped, since he had come into the neighborhood, that that was his intention,” Jane told her candidly.  “When he came to dinner, she did try to maneuver the conversation to show she was open to such a renewal his addresses.”  She took a sip of her tea carefully, perhaps to delay the next part of this conversation.  “He was clearly listening to her conversations after supper.—but then he called upon you.  Has he called on you again?  He has not come to Longbourn, even with Bingley.”

Bella felt rather put on the spot.  She considered.  “I do not wish to get involved.”

“You are already involved.”

“No, I am not.  This is between your sister and Mr. Darcy.  She has to sort it out.  She shouldn’t be coming to me to sort it out for her.  What does she expect me to do?  Stay away?”

Jane opened her mouth to speak but hesitated.

It was like that then.

Bella set aside her dish of tea.  She wasn’t certain what she was going to say next, but it didn’t matter.  At that moment, there was a knock at the door and Mary came in to announce Darcy of Pemberley.

Shock flitted over Jane’s face, but then she composed herself.

The two ladies stood to receive him and if Darcy was surprised to see Jane Bennet there, he did not show it.

“Mary,” Bella instructed, “another cup for Mr. Darcy.”  She turned to offer him a seat.  “Miss Bennet was just telling me if she has a date for her wedding.”

Jane didn’t bat an eyelash as she resumed her seat.  “Yes.  Six December.”

Bella nodded.  “I will not have gone up to Town yet so I can certainly attend.—Mr. Darcy?  Will you still be in Hertfordshire?”

“I am to act as witness.”  He bowed in Jane’s direction.

“Indeed,” Bella agreed, having read several Mrs. Radcliffe novels since she had arrived in Hertfordshire.  “Then we will see each other at the wedding breakfast.—How goes the wedding planning, Miss Bennet?”

Jane left not long after.

Darcy closed the Library door behind her.  “She was not here to speak about the wedding, was she, Miss Swan?”  His gaze caught her and held, ordering her to tell him the truth.

She sighed.  “She came to warn me off of you.”

He tilted his head in question before retaking a seat, this time directly beside her on the settee.  “What method did she use?  Was she making spurious claims against my character?”

It was Bella’s turn to be surprised.  “I cannot imagine what claims she could possibly make.”  She smoothed out the skirt of her dress in order to have something to do.  “No.  She told me,” she paused, staring down at her lap.  Glancing up at Darcy and seeing the intense expression on his face, she was a little afraid to admit it.

“Miss Swan,” he gentled, reaching out and taking her hands.  “Please tell me.  I will not be offended.”

Biting her lip, Bella looked up into his verdant eyes.  “She said,” she admitted.  “She said—”  She turned away from him again.  “She said,” she rushed out, “that you proposed to Elizabeth in Kent and almost again in July.  She intimated that Elizabeth had hopes you would propose for a second time now that you had come to Hertfordshire.”  She turned back to him and looked at him worriedly.  “As I said, she was warning me off you.  She was staking a prior claim on you on behalf of her younger sister.”

Darcy did not look remotely surprised.  “How indiscrete of Miss Bennet,” he commented.

Bella considered.  This was the type of high school backstabbing that would go on in Forks and Arizona.  But here?

“It is indiscrete,” she realized.  “I did not think women compared refused proposals.”

“Perhaps they do among themselves,” Darcy admitted.  “I know not.  I would not think you know the Bennets well enough for such confidences.”

“I do not.”  He was still holding her hands, and they were warm within his grasp.

She perhaps should be angrier at Jane for interfering.  She should perhaps be angry at Elizabeth for grabbing Darcy’s attention before they had met.  Perhaps she should be jealous.  Should she be angry at Darcy for noticing a girl before he had noticed her?

However, she felt complacent.  She accepted everything as it came.  She accepted this now.  She knew why this was so.  It was because of Corin.  However, she found she could not change it.

“I would never marry Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy now confided.  “Her brother by marriage is George Wickham.”

Bella looked up.  She did not understand.

Darcy was gazing at her meaningfully.  “That man is a plague upon me.  He was my father’s godson.  He is a reprobate.  I own all his debts in Derbyshire so he cannot come near Pemberley or impose himself upon my family.  The only reason why I do not own them in Hertfordshire is because I do not intend to come back to Netherfield after Bingley’s wedding.”

“Oh,” she said rather half-heartedly.  It was like that then.  He would marry Elizabeth if he could, but there was an impediment.

She stood and went to go look out the window at the orchard, dropping Darcy’s hands in the process.

“I have not explained well,” Darcy realized from behind her, still sitting on the settee.

“No,” she disagreed.  “Connections are important.  The Bennets have unfortunate—connections,” she finished half-heartedly.  She continued to look out at the apple trees.  “I suppose that Lord Wrexham being my father’s cousin,” for he was that according to the family tree Corin had drawn up for her, “is advantageous.”  God, she sounded like a Jane Austen novel.  If Renee could be here now, Bella would never hear the end of it.

“I will not pretend that it is not,” Darcy admitted, now standing and coming over to the window.  “My mother’s brother is the Earl of Matlock.”

Bella smiled to herself.  “What illustrious relations we have, Mr. Darcy.”

“I recommended my physician to the Prince Regent,” Darcy now said, quite close to her.  “I have been promised a baronetcy for me and my descendants.  I had hoped you would be pleased.”

Bella blushed.  “I do not know your Christian name,” she admitted.  “Sir—”

“Sir Fitzwilliam and Lady Darcy,” he filled in for her.

“Sir Fitzwilliam,” she repeated, trying to hold in a laugh.  She wondered what his mother was thinking.  “That is an unfortunate mouthful.”

“When my father agreed I should be named for the Matlock family, he had no idea I would be called by any name other than ‘Darcy,’” he agreed.  “Otherwise I would possess some other moniker.”

“Hmm,” Bella agreed.  “Such a pity that Mrs. Wickham had to marry so disadvantageously.”  She made to move away from the window—and away from Darcy—but he lightly placed his hand on her arm.

Looking up at him, she caught his eye, and he told her, “I facilitated that marriage.  I stood witness to it.  I gave up Elizabeth of my own free will.”

“You did?” Bella breathed.

“I did not come back to Hertfordshire for her.”

“Then why did you come back?” she wondered.

“To see if Miss Bennet loved Bingley.  I did not believe that she did despite protestations of others that she does love my friend.  I am not even now convinced.”  He stretched out his hand and invited her to sit back down on the settee.

She allowed him to lead her there and took a seat beside him, waiting for him to continue.

“Bingley’s attachment, however, has proved the test of time.”

“Has it?” Bella asked herself more than him.  “So you have come to support your friend.”

“Indeed.  I only attended the supper at Longbourn to watch Miss Bennet’s interactions with Bingley.”

“You were watching me instead,” Bella pointed out.  “At first I thought you only regarded your own reflection, but then I realized you were listening to every word Elizabeth and I spoke.”

“You have the right of it.  I did not know your name, Mrs. Bennet never introduced us, but you caught my attention.  Then I learnt you were a Swan of Wrexham.”

Bella grimaced despite herself.

“You should be proud of your family heritage, Miss Swan.  It is certainly not a disadvantage.”

“I have never even met Lord Wrexham,” Bella now admitted, glancing down at her hands.  “When I received the invitation from him for Christmas, I wondered who had reminded him of my existence.”

“When do you leave for Town?  Perhaps the Bingleys can offer you room in their carriage.”

Bella was surprised at this.  “I would not think—”

“We travel all up together,” Darcy told her now.  “There will be two carriages, one for the Hursts, and one for Miss Bingley and the new Mrs. Bingley.  Bingley and I ride on horseback.  There will be ample room for you and your maid.”

“Mary will need to come with me,” Bella now realized.  “I wonder if she has ever been to London.”

“A new experience for you both.”

Bella smiled at him.  His eyes were smiling back.

Bella sent him back to Netherfield with a basket of sour dough bread and her orange zest cookies, telling him she wanted the household’s opinion on them.  “I have nothing to do,” she confessed.  “I might as well feed my neighbors.”

Their hands touched as he said goodbye and she watched him ride out into the distance.

An invitation came the next day to dine at Netherfield.

Bella had to ask Mary if she had any evening dresses.  Mary pulled out a deep red dress with cap sleeves and a pink blusher and Bella supposed she must be in fashion as she had seen the Bennet sisters wear similar dresses although not in so bold a shade.

Her carriage took her to Netherfield Hall, and when she arrived she found that the gentlemen were out dining—well, with whom she never quite found out.

Caroline Bingley was tall with auburn hair and freckles and was quite pretty.  Her sister, Louisa Hurst, was quite young, barely twenty-two if Bella had to guess, and just as tall and just as freckled.  The two made quite the charming pair in their silks and feathers. 

Bella was not wearing feathers but Corin had left her pearl hair combs and necklaces, so she was well decked out for the evening.

“I understand Lord Wrexham has invited you to Town for Christmastide,” Louisa Hurst began over the soup course, “and that you know Mr. Henry quite well.”

Bella looked up and saw that they were meant to get information out of her.  “Yes, I had a letter from Henry just yesterday,” she answered.  It seemed Henry was Lord Wrexham’s heir, just five and twenty himself, and in no hurry to find a wife.  “He wondered if I should like him to escort me to the opera when I’m there.”

“How marvelous!” Caroline enthused.  “Are you to come out next Season?”

Bella paused.  No one had mentioned anything of the sort.  “I am certain I would be too much of a burden on my female relations.”

“Pray, what is your age?” Louisa asked.

“I am only just nineteen,” Bella told her.  “Hardly old enough to be put on the shelf.”

“No, of course not!” Caroline agreed.  “That is exactly my age.  We are still young enough to catch husbands.”

“And husbands you will surely catch,” Louisa assured both of them.  “There are fine husbands to be found in London over Christmastide.  Many men remain there at the end of the Little Season.”

Bella had never thought of herself as out to catch a husband, but Corin assured her that was the reason for her presence in England at exactly the turn of the century.  Now Bella found herself looking about herself, wondering what men were like in 1811, if they were very different from 2005—and they certainly were. 

“Jane Bennet seems to have caught herself a husband,” Bella noticed.

“Yes,” Caroline agreed carefully.  “Charles is well and truly caught.  He has been since last Autumn.”

“And another Bennet sister caught a husband.”  It seemed Bella was asking the questions now.  “Mrs. Lydia Wickham.  I understand she is the youngest of the five sisters.”

Louisa Hurst seemed displeased at the subject coming up.  “She was always a flighty girl.  Wickham was a local officer who turned many a head but has a bad reputation for gambling and debts.  It is a bad match and a bad connection.  I warned Charles, but he would not listen.”

“Would he not?” Bella wondered aloud.  Clearly Darcy had taken it seriously enough.  “Pity.”

“Tis more the pity,” Caroline agreed.  “But he is an officer and will forever be with his regiment.  We need never see him.”

“Mrs. Bennet needs to marry her other daughters off now,” Louisa was now saying.  “I do not think they have any fine prospects.”

Bella thought of Elizabeth and her previous claims on Darcy, but said nothing.  She wasn’t going to draw a line between them.  Darcy clearly belonged to her now and this invitation only proved it.  She had never met either Caroline Bingley or Louisa Hurst before in her life.  She didn’t believe they had even been in Hertfordshire the previous week as the Netherfield gathering had meant to be a hunting party.

“Eliza Bennet was to marry a clergyman,” Caroline was now saying, “a cousin.  However, it is said she refused him even though he is to inherit her father’s estate, and he married another local girl.”

Bella’s eyebrows rose at that. 

Elizabeth had refused two proposals?  Interesting.  Clearly she had a great deal to regret.

“How old is Elizabeth Bennet?”

“Older than us,” Caroline informed her.

Bella got the message.  Elizabeth needed to get a move on.

It was drizzling by the time they sent for her carriage, and Bella drove home in the rain.  She hoped Darcy had taken the carriage otherwise he would get wet in the onslaught.

As it turned out, Darcy came once more before the wedding.

Bella was out in the orchard, having taken a Mrs. Radcliffe novel and a picnic basket in order to waste away the afternoon.

“How go the preparations?” she asked Darcy as he settled into the grasses beside her.

Corin had been to visit just two days earlier and Bella was feeling particularly complacent.

“There is naught for me to do,” he admitted.  “There is to be no wedding tour until next Spring so Bingley is himself just waiting for the wedding.”

Bella nodded.  She supposed weddings were women’s business.  They always had been and they always would be.

“I suppose I will see the wedding gown when I attend next week,” Bella supposed to herself, wondering what on earth brides wore in the early eighteen hundreds.  She supposed Jane Bennet would obscure her face with a bonnet.  The veil hadn’t been invented yet, at least not in England.

“You have not been in the neighborhood long enough to be in her confidence.”

“Not for that,” Bella agreed, referring to her earlier conversation about Elizabeth Bennet.

Darcy paused and regarded her.  “I was hoping you would allow me to escort you to the wedding breakfast, Miss Swan.”

Bella wasn’t even surprised.  She knew she should expect this sort of attention.  “You know we will raise speculation.”

“I intend to raise speculation in the neighborhood.  We will be seen together at Lucas Lodge in any case.”

That was certainly true.  Perhaps this meant they were ‘going steady.’

“Are you going to ask Lord Wrexham for my hand in marriage or is it too soon for that?” she wondered out loud.

“Only with your permission,” Darcy promised.

Bella looked at him.  “You cannot know me well enough to marry me.”

“I know you are always baking and I daresay you cook your own dinner as well.”  His eyes glistened in amusement.  “You have a household full of servants and I daresay they have nothing to do but gossip all day.”

“I am so uninteresting they have nothing to gossip about.”

“I think you mistake yourself,” Mr. Darcy complimented.  “There is a great deal of information to occupy your servants’ interest.”

Bella looked at him in confusion.

Darcy, however, did not elaborate.  “What is in your picnic basket?”

Bella drew it forward.  “Apple pie,” she told him, taking it out.  “I don’t have enough plates for two.”

“That need not bother us,” he promised her, accepting the dish and the knife.  “We might eat with our hands.”

Bella looked up at him in shock.  “I did not know you to be so bohemian, Mr. Darcy.”

“I might surprise you,” he teased her, cutting a slice and transferring it to a plate for her.  He cut another and placed it on a napkin for himself.  “Did you bake this yourself, Miss Swan?”

“I did.  I found the kitchen boy had gathered apples from the orchard without telling anyone and had enough for my baking.”

“Poor Oliver Hatfield.  He was quite a favorite with the ladies last Autumn,” Darcy remarked before taking his first bite.  “This is delicious if I may say so.  You are quite the asset in the kitchen.”

“Would you allow me in your kitchen?” Bella asked boldly.  “Or would you keep me always above stairs?”

Darcy looked at her carefully.  “You seem to enjoy it.”

“I do enjoy it,” she told him, taking her own bite.

“It is difficult as the distinction of rank must be preserved,” he told her honestly before taking another bite of his own pie.  “If you were a poor country vicar’s wife, it would not be a problem.”

Bella understood his meaning.  Darcy was not a poor country vicar.  She had heard the rumors in Meryton.  Darcy was worth more than Bingley and had a great country estate in Derbyshire.  His grandfather was an Earl.  His wife would be expected to maintain decorum.  She dipped her head and said nothing.

Darcy regarded her.  “There are other pastimes—”

“I do like to read,” she agreed.  “I don’t know what you want from me,” she finally admitted, looking away from him.  “I feel like I’m second choice.  I’m nothing like Elizabeth Bennet.”

“You only say that because we met in Hertfordshire.  If we had met in London, you would have none of these reservations.”  He paused.  “I am certain I am not the first gentleman to have paid my addresses to you.”

“What does that—?”

“I make my point.”

“I have never been engaged,” Bella told him firmly.

“Neither have I.”

Bella blinked.  No, he technically hadn’t been.  Elizabeth Bennet had turned him down—just as Edward had left her in the woods.  Elizabeth was his Edward.  She just happened to be here, right under Bella’s nose.

She sucked in a deep breath of air and then let it out slowly in order to calm herself. 

This is the most worked up she’d been since she’d come to Hertfordshire.  Perhaps she was becoming immune to Corin’s gifts.  Perhaps her defective brain had something to do with it.

She smiled to herself.

“Why are you smiling?” Darcy inquired.

“Jane Bennet got what she wanted.  She has sewn division between us and made me doubt you.”

“Then let us set this quarrel aside,” Darcy suggested, “and think no more on it.”  He looked at her imploringly.

Setting her plate aside, Bella leaned back into the grasses and looked up at the branches.  “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself, Darcy.  Something no lady knows.  Then I shall tell you something in return.”

She heard rustling beside her and looked over to see that Darcy had lain down in the grasses beside her.  She smiled to herself.

“My father, George Darcy, fathered many children,” Darcy confessed.  “George Wickham is one of them.  He is the son of our steward’s wife.  Wickham is my exact copy.”

“Who are the others?” Bella wondered, turning onto her side so she was facing Darcy.

He remained on his back, staring up at the apple leaves.  He was quiet for a long while.  “My cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.  His legal father is my mother’s brother, the Earl of Matlock.  We look so alike it cannot be mistaken.  My father bought his commission in the Army, left him an allowance in his will, and made him Georgiana’s second guardian.”

“And who is Georgiana?” Bella inquired.

“My younger sister,” Darcy answered, turning toward her.  “She is not yet out.”

Bella nodded.  “And the others?”

“A boy on the estate.  A young lady in Bath who has an annuity from the estate.  They are the only other children I know of.”

Bella hummed and thought.  “My mother left my father when I was only a baby.  She took me away.  Charlie—Dad—he has been pining for her ever since.  He just lived in this small house, the small house they lived in together, waiting for her to come home.  But she never did.  It was so sad.  He never even looked at another woman.  It was always my mother for him.”  She sighed.  “I look like Charlie.  Same eyes.  Same colored hair.  Same chin.  I don’t think he’d have been able to look at me otherwise.”

Darcy hesitantly reached for her and touched her chin.  “How did he die?”

“I think he died of a broken heart in the end,” Bella lied, thinking of Charlie still living in that house, all alone, now waiting for Bella to return.  “You next.”

“I saw you first sitting at table.  Your eyes lighted in the candlelight and I was struck.  They are such an unfathomable color.  Miss Elizabeth was trying to speak to me, but I could no longer attend.”

Bella blushed, feeling the color infuse her cheeks.  “I am not certain that is telling me something.”

“I positioned myself at the window so that I could see your reflection.  The firelight illuminated your form upon the glass,” he continued.

“Do you often look at reflections?” Bella inquired.

“Quite often,” he agreed.

“I suppose that is a secret,” Bella decided, thinking.  “When I came to live with my father, a year before his—death,” she hesitated, thinking of the timeline, “all the young men thought I was new and shiny and would plague me.  They ignored all the other young women and so Jessica and Lauren hated me.  All I wanted was for the other girls to like me, to fit in.  Angela was kind, though.”

Darcy looked at her thoughtfully.  “None of the men caught your attention?”

The idea of the Cullens wandered through Bella’s head but soon wandered out of it again.

“None of them,” Bella promised him.  “I was only seventeen.”

He seemed to settle among the roots, contented.  “At Cambridge, I was on the rowing team.”

“Oh, you were one of those, were you?” Bella teased.

“We did it to attract the ladies,” Darcy told her.

“I know you did.  Physical prowess is always to attract the ladies.”  She smiled at him.

They stayed out in the orchard until the sky started turning dark.  Darcy carried the picnic basket for her and kissed her hand before mounting is horse.  Mary was sure to wrap Bella up in shawls before serving her dinner in the Library.  She looked out the window and wondered if Darcy was similarly by a fire with his own repast.

The morning of the wedding came. 

Corin looked out the window after whispering in Bella’s ear, telling her to wear the blue.

Bella, calm and collected, did as she suggested, and took the carriage to the church.  When she arrived, it was like coming out of a daze.  She blinked several times and was confused when her coachman opened the door and let down the steps for her.

Finding a seat about five rows back, Bella waited for the ceremony to begin.

She watched as Bingley took his place at the front of the church with Darcy at his side as groomsman.  Bingley looked excited in his blue coat.  Caroline Bingley and the Hursts arrived and they came at sat on the right, directly up in front, appearing for all intents and purposes as if they were attending a funeral. 

The Bennets were a flurry of handkerchiefs. 

Bella noticed that four daughters were in attendance.  The fourth, the tallest, was on the arm of an officer who looked the spitting image of Darcy.  This must certainly be George Wickham.  Lydia Wickham certainly looked pleased with herself and walked into the church as if she owned it.  Mrs. Bennet fluttered about, greeting everyone, before she escorted her three unmarried daughters into the front two rows on the left side of the church.

Bella was only a few rows behind them.

When Elizabeth spotted her, she leaned over to Lydia and whispered in her ear.  Lydia Wickham immediately looked interested and began whispering to her husband who also looked over at her.

Bella chose not to pay attention to them, instead examining her white gloves.

The bride fortunately arrived and they all stood for her entrance.

Jane Bennet was resplendent in a yellow gown and matching bonnet.  She certainly couldn’t seem to be any happier. 

When the wedding was over, the Bingleys went out into the vestry, followed by Darcy.  Darcy emerged first and made his way down the aisle.  The front rows emptied behind him but Darcy stopped at Bella’s row and held out his hand for her.  Bella hesitated.  She wasn’t sure she should join the procession.  Darcy, however, waited.

The Wickhams were now definitely looking at her.

Squaring her shoulders, Bella moved toward Darcy and took his hand, allowing him to lead her out into the churchyard, where they were given rice.  She threw it happily in the air over the newly married couple who now emerged and waited for them to enter their carriage.

As she was cheering and laughing, she was very much aware that someone was staring at her.  The hairs on the back of her neck were raised and she could feel a chill run down her spine.  Turning to look into the crowd, Bella’s eyes met that of Eliza Bennet.

Elizabeth was not making merry with the rest of the guests.  Instead, her entire attention was on Bella and Darcy, and she was seriously displeased.

Bella swallowed at the menace in her gaze, but turned back toward Darcy, who was looking down to check on her.  “It is nothing,” she whispered before waving again at the happy couple.

When she realized Darcy was no longer looking at her, she turned his gaze on him and saw him regarding Elizabeth Bennet.  The two were staring at each other now.

She tugged on Darcy’s arm.

He paid her no heed.

She tugged again.

Finally, he turned to look at her.

Bella offered him a small smile.

He smiled back.  “I suppose we are next,” he suggested as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

A sense of belonging and acceptance washed over Bella.  She knew it was Corin’s suggestions to her, but she found she could not mind.  She looked once more over her shoulder at Elizabeth, but then dismissed her.  Looking up at Darcy, she smiled once more.  “Yes,” she agreed.  “Yes, we will be next.”  And with that she secured their future.

The End.