It was determined during the course of the Bennets’ visit to the abode of the Bingley family that the women of Netherfield Hall, Jane, Georgiana and little Anne would the following morning return the call upon the ladies of Longbourn, escorted by the sweetest young gentleman in the world, a young man with what Elizabeth considered the unfortunate name of Bennet Bingley.

The father of Bennet, Charles Bingley, had switched from his joking conviction in Darcy’s attraction to Elizabeth to a desire to keep the two apart, and he insisted the gentlemen go shooting. To Elizabeth’s mild surprise, her father agreed to participate a second time in two days in the high and difficult art of murdering birds from afar with a long rifle.

“That Darcy of yours. A delight—” Mr. Bennet chortled as he bundled up in his long brown overcoat. “The way you struck back at him. Mr. Darcy is an acquaintance well worth seeking, if only so I can find an opportunity to study you both in a room when our excessively amiable Bingley will not break the fight up just as it becomes heated.”

“I do hope, Papa, I shall not show an excess of antagonism towards him.”

“Not that! It would be quite a bore if you do not.”

“He did apologize, almost sweetly. A fine-looking man. A very fine-looking man.”  Elizabeth smirked. She had been unsettled by their childish staring contest — that was all it had been when they looked challengingly into each other’s eyes until she flushed and looked down. A childish staring contest. “Perhaps I ought to flirt with him instead.”

“Good god! No! That would drive him away. You’ve seen how skittish he is. If he is this paranoid of the motives of a woman who teases him mercilessly, think how he would see a woman who makes a show of liking him — nay, you’ll not land this elephant with honey.”

Elizabeth rudely snorted.

“His appearance caught your notice.” Mr. Bennet smirked. “Be strong, my darling. Be strong! He railed against all women. Strike back; find some claim that will bite him — for the honor of the fair sex!”

“Papa, we shall not fight merely for your amusement.”

“Ha! I wish you to fight merely for your amusement.” Papa squeezed the last button of his jacket closed. “I ought to lose a stone or so. This coat does not fit as it did when I had it made.”

“You might have the stomach let out.”

“Admit defeat? Not yet.”

He held out his cheek and Elizabeth kissed Papa’s bristly sideburns. “Revel in the violent death of birds.”

“I shall revel in the conversation of your favored antagonist.”

Mr. Bennet went out the front door and closed the door quickly behind him, a breeze of cold air shivering in behind him. He leaped onto the back of his horse with a surprising spryness for a gentleman who had from a young age preferred study and books to more sportly sports.

Elizabeth watched her father through the drawing room window. She loved her father; when he was gone she picked up a book to read while she waited.

It was no great duration of time until the Netherfield party rolled up the road, ensconced in their large fine carriage, and pulled by two pairs of matched bays and with a resplendently dressed coachman with a jaunty cap seated neatly in the driver’s seat.

Mrs. Bennet smiled out the window contentedly, eager for Bennet and his small friend to arrive. Besides Jane, Mary had a child, but as she was settled some twenty miles distant, Mrs. Bennet could not dote upon that granddaughter the way she doted upon her beloved Bennet. Kitty’s most recent letter announced she was expecting, and the babe had quickened. The pile of Bennet descendants was to increase.

Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet bustled to the front door. Mrs. Bennet opened the door wide, letting in a draft and preempting Mrs. Hill’s role as the housekeeper. “In! In! Out of the cold! The children could catch cold.”

“Grandmama! Grandmama!” Bennet rushed up to Mrs. Bennet and widely hugged her.

“See—” Bennet pointed at Anne. “My friend! With me! Wheeee!”

Mrs. Bennet knelt to kiss Anne’s cheek. The girl shrank away, and then giggled when Mrs. Bennet tickled her. “Sweet children. In, in — do not catch a cold!”

Elizabeth examined Georgiana Darcy, trying to trace how this shy, quiet and proper girl could be related to the frank and arrogant man Mr. Darcy was. Both were tall, they had a similar cast of features, and they preferred not to speak in groups of people.

When they were scuttled into the drawing room, the children attacked the toys Mrs. Bennet kept in a chest for Bennet.

“Many of these toys are from when we were girls.” Elizabeth smiled at Georgiana. “The doll was brought down in hopes of entertaining Anne.”

“Oh!” The young woman clapped and knelt on the Persian rug to pick the moderately beaten wooden girl up and stroke the horsehair head. “Sweet creature — my girlhood dolls are kept about my rooms. I hope this is not too dear an object, Anne can be rough. I assure you she is the sweetest natured and never means to—”

“A pet! A sweetling!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. “I know children. I raised so many! You need not defend your Anne, I am smitten with her.”

Georgiana blushed and looked down. “Thank you, Ma’am.”

“None of that formality. No, no, no! I adore you as much as your daughter — if only the neighborhood had not been so foolish as to refuse to admit you to the assembly.” Mrs. Bennet growled. “We shall make a success of you, and prove them all wrong.”

“No, I assure you,” Georgiana shook her head vigorously, “I am content. I do not desire to be forced upon anyone who—”

“Nonsense! You are a young girl. You want your share of party and entertainment. You have been horribly, horribly abused by your brother keeping you from such things.”

“Fitzwilliam is a perfect brother. He has done what he could. I do not deserve to participate in society.”

“Deserve! Of course you deserve. Sweet thing. You are Jane’s friend! Society will recognize you! My consequence will not be spurned — Jane, you and Bingley must hold a great dinner. Invite everyone. Everyone except Lady Lucas — I have cut her the past week for convincing the committee to ban Georgiana.”

“They just did what they thought was right…” Georgiana quietly spoke to her hands. “Fitzwilliam would not like it if we made a pest of me to your neighbors.”

“Mr. Darcy!” Mrs. Bennet growled. “I would never say anything against a friend of Bingley’s, every friend of my son is a friend of mine, but I shall despise him forever for saying my Lizzy looks old.”

“That is not what he said,” Elizabeth replied for Georgiana’s sake.

“Please don’t,” Georgiana whispered. “Fitzwilliam is very good — it was all my fault, and—”

The drawing room was opened, and a young cat who belonged to Elizabeth stalked proudly towards Elizabeth, with his back high.

Anne shouted, “Kitten!” and ran towards the startled animal. Poor little Mr. Hume fled in the opposite direction, with skittering paws, and hid under the black piano.

Both Bennet and Anne giggled and clapped their hands and then chased off towards the poor creature, circling around the piano, but unable to get under the tight spaces that the cat could fit into.

“Such adorable children!” Mrs. Bennet squealed. “Circle round, Bennet, round to the other side of the piano.”

Bennet followed his grandmother’s advice and reached close enough to grab the cat’s waving tail, but the alarmed animal wriggled away and reaching the open floor took off and hid under the couch beneath Elizabeth.

The two children bounded over, laughing and giggling. Elizabeth placed a hand on each of them. “You’ve startled poor Mr. Hume.”

“Sorry, Aunt Lizzy.” Bennet smiled cherubically up at her, calming down.

Anne then bobbled her own little curtsey and smiled brilliantly. In her smile and expression there was a similarity to the late, charming Captain Wickham.

Elizabeth held up a finger. “Perhaps I can coax Mr. Hume out — then you might pet his fur. Softly.”

She got off the sofa and looked under. The cat’s wide eyes looked back at her, framed by adorable striped fur. Elizabeth softly made a ch ch ch sound with her tongue and held out her hand. The cat sniffed Elizabeth and, no longer scared by loud squealing from the two children, Hume stuck first his little pink nose out from under the couch, and then in a flowing movement he jumped into Elizabeth’s arms.

She picked him up and settled the little creature on her lap. He rolled over so his tummy could be rubbed. Elizabeth nodded to the children.

Bennet nudged Anne so she could go first, and with wide eyes the little girl softly placed her hand on the cat’s belly. Hume purred loudly, and Bennet came around the other side of Elizabeth to scratch him behind his ears.

Georgiana smiled. “What a pretty animal. How old?”

“Not yet a year.”

Anne exclaimed, “Kitty!” again, and her excess of enthusiasm led Mr. Hume to rouse himself and walk in a dignified manner away along the couch. Bennet picked the cat up and got batted with a paw, but the boy giggled and held onto the cat.

“Not too rough,” Jane warned.

Bennet looked at his mother, and the cat escaped once more and ran to the other side of the room. Rather than hiding, Hume stopped in the middle of the floor and looked back at them. Elizabeth suspected her cat had decided he was comfortable and wanted to be chased.

The two children squealed and obliged him by running at the small animal. Mr. Hume waited until they were a few feet away to skitter in a different direction.

“Your brother,” Mrs. Bennet spoke to Georgiana, “could have no objection to you meeting the respectable people of the neighborhood. Some still respect the name of Bennet. A grand party for you at Longbourn, and another, even grander yet, at Netherfield. Bingley can hold a proper ball — our rooms are hardly big enough for a half dozen couples.”

Georgiana’s eyes widened.

Jane added, “Your brother wishes you less lonely and more social — meeting all our true friends in a private setting would be the best way.”

Goodness, the poor woman was trembling. Elizabeth leaned forward and touched Jane’s shoulder, as the children ran across the room once more, chasing Mr. Hume to a new hiding spot. “Miss Darcy, you do not want to meet a vast room of strangers. A small group instead. Two couples perhaps; particular friends. John Lucas and his wife. And Mr. and Mrs. Goulding. Old and particular friends of Jane and I.”

“You think?” Georgiana’s shoulders and trembling relaxed. “I…I might like that.”

What had Jane been thinking to plan to take this poor girl to an assembly? Poor Georgie would have been too terrified to do more than stand in the most isolated corner and hope nobody saw her.

Mrs. Bennet sniffed. “Lady Lucas led the campaign against Miss Darcy. Her children will do nothing for us, even though we are such old friends. It is like when Charlotte stole Mr. Collins.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “She was well welcome to him. Lucas is one of my oldest friends, he will come if I beg him, and his wife is a kind woman everyone loves.”

“Do not beg anyone…” Georgiana nervously wiped her hands on the sleeve of her dress. “After what I have done…they have the right to avoid me.”

“Lord! What ridiculous notion!” Mrs. Bennet narrowed her eyes and chopped the air eagerly. “All hypocrites, every one. Every one of them.”

“No…not after how I acted.”

“How you acted? Heavens! A little imprudent, but I dare say every woman in the neighborhood anticipated their vows as you did.”

“What!” Both Jane and Elizabeth sputtered together, staring at each other and then their mother wide eyed.

Mrs. Bennet sat up higher on the sofa and said with an air of dignity, “You did not believe it an accident that Jane was born eight months after our wedding?”

The sisters looked at each other. Elizabeth asked Jane in a hesitating voice, “Did you and Bingley ever…”

“No, never!” Jane replied in a shocked voice. “Of course I did not!”

Mrs. Bennet sniffed. “The worse for you and Bingley. Elizabeth, you should have given them more space during all of those walks — you were a quite poor chaperone. Entirely different from my sister.”

Elizabeth looked wide-eyed at her mother.

“Lizzy was a perfect chaperone!” Jane exclaimed.

“Surely not…” Georgiana looked around at all three of them. “I cannot believe any good woman would—”

“Believe it!” Mrs. Bennet spoke firmly. “I did, Lady Lucas certainly did. I remember her, they were much poorer then, and I was still a girl, but she was showing with Charlotte’s bump on the day the marriage was solemnized. Sir William had not been too eager then for her, so they waited till the babe quickened to start the banns.” Mrs. Bennet laughed disgustedly. “Now she hurts a perfectly sweet girl to gain position over me by harming my daughter’s guest.”

Elizabeth could not repress helpless, horrified giggles at the story and the very unwanted information about Jane’s conception.

Jane laughed with her, followed by Georgiana and Mrs. Bennet.

The children gathered around the adults, begging to be told what was so funny.

Jane picked Bennet up and swung him around. “An adult matter — quite boring.”

Mrs. Bennet beamed adoringly at the children. “You must be hungry after all that running! Lemon tart? Do you want? Come with me to the kitchen.”

Elizabeth smiled to herself; it was not wise to feed children sugary treats so early in the morning, but they both happily clapped at the promise. Jane went with Mrs. Bennet, but Georgiana hung back, and from her expression Elizabeth saw she wished to say something to her alone. Mr. Hume hopped onto Elizabeth’s lap. Georgiana folded her hands together and looked to the side, demurely sitting in a graceful curve on the sofa.

Elizabeth smiled encouragingly. “The two of us, we shall be good friends.”

“You could see I frightened, when your mother suggested a large group.”

“Shyness is no reason for shame.”

Georgiana smiled and ducked her head. “I cannot even correct servants when they are wrong for fear of giving offense.”

Elizabeth laughed, and slowly petted the lightly purring cat on her lap. “Good servants can be dreadfully hard to correct.”

Georgiana smiled, but she then gripped her hands tightly together and twisted them around.

“Out with it. Out. What is on your mind?” Elizabeth smiled comfortingly.

“You quarreled with my brother again — Bingley said.”

“Ah.”

“Please, I wish us to be dear friends as well — Fitzwilliam is so good. Do not smile with that doubting manner. He is!”

Elizabeth replied in a philosophical tone. “What is goodness?”

“My fault put you at odds. He was in an ill mood after Sir William banned my attendance. I insisted he attend the assembly nevertheless and…”

“You need not defend your brother. His behavior and opinions are his own.”

“He was so angry I’d been refused entry. I do not even desire to go to a ball. Not much. I would only like to watch one once, and dance a set with Fitzwilliam — pray, think kindly of him…”

“I blame him no longer for the night of the ball. Yesterday, he irked me with no excuse of ill temper.”

Georgiana blinked at her.

Elizabeth buried her hands in her cat’s dashing fur. Mr. Darcy had infuriated her. “I do not approve of his attitudes towards our fair gender.”

“How can you not! Fitzwilliam is the best, kindest, and noblest gentleman in the world. He will do anything for me — I was ruined, and he did not throw me off, he allowed me and Anne to live with him, he has given up so much, and the shamefulness of our presence has kept him from marrying—”

“Him! Wish to marry?”

“—he is always so kind, so willing to spend time entertaining me, he always gives up his own pleasures for my sake…he is the best.”

“He, like you, deeply dislikes oversized social gatherings, and he suffers the profoundest annoyance in the presence of too many women. He is convinced we are only desperate to catch a wealthy husband — this is not a matter of conjecture — he told me direct.”

“But—”

“You shall not succeed. You worship your brother, but he is a man, and he has shown his feet of clay to me. You shall not convince me he is angel, spirit, or Grecian hero.”

Georgiana sighed. “He is the best of men. You misjudge him.”

“He holds you in close affection, and he has supported and cared for you for many years — your affection is natural. I freely admit he has virtues.”

“Then why do you dislike and argue with him?”

“My dear Georgiana — this is a misapprehension. That two persons argue with each other does not signify that they dislike each other.”

“But you do dislike Fitzwilliam.”

“I am undecided. There is much for a sensible woman to dislike.”

“You will like him eventually, if you are undecided.”

Mr. Hume reached his soft paw up to bat Elizabeth’s face, bringing the scent of his clean-licked fur to her. She shrugged. Maybe Georgiana was right. Maybe she already liked Mr. Darcy, despite his deficiencies. A very handsome man.

“You will come to see how he is sweet and loving. The treatment society gives me has made him cynical.”

“I doubt very much he ever had friendliness for women outside intimate circles. Your brother is a clever and well-read man, and he absorbed the foolishness male writers attribute to women. And a man who combines such a fine person with such a fine estate must have been pursued avidly by women since he has been in society. The genesis and genius of his distrust.”

“I was not able to control my passions.”

“A child without her guardian. And you detached yourself from Wickham before he gained your fortune.”

“I deserve no credit. You misunderstand. I learned Wickham’s character, and that I would be miserable with him, and that he loved nothing but my wealth. His mistake was only not to continue the charade until we had been tied by marriage.”

“I do admire you. And today you are no unguarded child. You are a woman, full of sense and sensibility.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your brother said you could never make a good choice for yourself, not because your past makes him mistrust you, but because you are a woman. He said directly I would be as incompetent as you had been if I formed a passionate attachment.”

“Fitzwilliam said that? About you?”

“He did. But I promise, I shall strive to see his better features — many virtues are in your brother. I demand in exchange that you look in yourself and see the virtues and sense you possess. Learn to trust yourself in matters of importance.”

“I could never go against my brother’s wishes.”

“One day you will wish to marry. And when that day comes, you must choose your own happiness, not him.”

“I never will marry! Absurd to imagine.”

With a loud bustle the door to the drawing room was burst in, and the two children ran in, jumping up and down, made energetic by the treats stuffed into them. Mrs. Bennet and Jane followed them in.

Anne ran towards them, alarming Mr. Hume, who meowed and jumped up to run once more under a sofa.

Instead of chasing Hume, Anne childishly leaped onto Georgiana’s lap. The mother opened her arms and held her close. “Tasty! It was! The pastry! Bennet says his Grandmama always has treats. She told me that I am a perfectly dressed young lady. Grandmama Bennet is such a nice woman. I wish I had a Grandmama.”

Georgiana kissed the girl’s forehead.

The little girl turned to Elizabeth, “Your mama is so nice!”

Elizabeth giggled. “Might I hold her?”

Georgiana pushed Anne to crawl into Elizabeth’s lap, while Elizabeth held open her arms. The child made a fragrant, warm weight.

“You like my mother?” Elizabeth asked.

“She gave me so many tarts.” Anne held up three fingers, one of which had a smidge of jam left on it. “Mrs. Bingley is nice too!”

“Everyone adores Mrs. Bingley.”

Elizabeth cuddled the little girl while she and Georgiana played silly little games with her.

Then a knock and the door opened again.

Anne jumped off Elizabeth’s lap. “Uncle Will!”

Mr. Darcy swept her up into his arms in a single effortless movement, sitting the girl high in his arms and listening with a smile while she happily babbled.

Lord! He made a handsome figure. Elizabeth’s insides twinged at seeing him appear so fatherly. Her breath caught.

The attractiveness of a man was usually increased when he showed care for a child. But this was more intense than ever. Elizabeth helplessly watched Mr. Darcy’s innocent smile as he nodded at his niece. His was lit by the window, making every strong angle and firm contour of his remarkable face jump out at her eyes.

Anne pointed towards Elizabeth. Her winsome voice lisped, “My new friend! Miss Lizzy! Come meet her. She is so nice!”

Mr. Darcy looked at Elizabeth, and an embarrassed flush crept up Elizabeth’s neck at being caught leering at the gentleman.

She looked down and quickly back towards him. He still looked at her, but from his expression she had no sense of what he was thinking.

Anne pulled at the lapel of Mr. Darcy’s coat and begged him to go meet Miss Lizzy. He walked towards her, easily and securely holding the child in one arm.

Almost helplessly, Elizabeth rose to greet the approaching man.

He stuck out his free hand to her. “Miss Bennet. I am pleased to see you.”

Elizabeth quirked her mouth mischievously as she shook his hand. “Even though I have defeated you in honorable verbal combat twice.”

“Once only, madam.” He smiled back at her. It made his face glow.

She’d once encountered in a terrible novel for young women obsessed with marriage the phrase He was unfairly handsome. An absurd notion, she had thought then.

Fitzwilliam Darcy was unfairly handsome.

“I believe I gained victory twice.” Elizabeth had a bubbly smile.

“Nay, you had scored against me in our second match, but while bloodied, I was yet undefeated when Mr. Bingley divided the combatants.”

“I am surprised he allowed you freedom to seek out a third match.”

“I resorted to stratagem. Georgie, are you well? I worried about you.”

That was why she could resist Mr. Darcy. What did he imagine was to happen to his sister in their house?

Darcy’s care for his niece was sweet. That for his sister was cloying.

Georgiana glanced at Elizabeth as she smiled. “Very well. We played and talked. I do like Miss Bennet.”

“You do?” Darcy smiled at Elizabeth. “Then I must thank you again.”

“She has promised to think more nicely of you.”

Elizabeth bit her lip and then smiled very widely. “That was not precisely what I promised — you made a promise of your own!”

“Oh.” Georgiana blushed and looked down. “You did say you would look for Fitzwilliam’s better features.”

Elizabeth looked at the gentleman. Goodness, that grin was a very superior feature. And he was almost a foot taller than herself. And such well-muscled arms. And those deep eyes when he looked at her.

“And what, Miss Bennet, are my better features?”

“Your tall figure.” Elizabeth clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled as both Georgiana and Darcy looked at her. Anne squirmed to be set down by Darcy.

“This is why I must remain clear on what your failings are.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Else you will place me at quite a disadvantage.”

Was his face a little red? Or was that disapproval of her accidental forwardness?

Darcy said, “I would not wish you at a disadvantage.”

“You would.”

He intently studied her and said in a low, vibrating voice. “Perhaps I would need you at a disadvantage, if I were to best you.”

No wonder Wickham had turned out so charming, with this as his competition. Despite his rudeness and every other failing, she was fluttering. “You hope for us to engage more often?”

“And for me to win.” His voice was soft.

“Then, you will need every advantage.”

“I know.”

“You do not reason much better than the usual, for an educated man.”

“And you reason exceptionally well, for a learned woman.”

“I detect the scorn in that. You do not approve of too much learning in a woman.”

“Here you defeat me once more. I always considered learned women to lose some part of their feminine grace and charm — Miss Bennet, you possess every feminine charm.”

Elizabeth’s face flushed at the way he said that. She would soon be at a terrible disadvantage. To be able to look away from his magnetic eyes she gestured to the couch and they all sat.

“I will not let you gain my good graces through flattery.” Elizabeth sternly wagged a finger in front of Darcy’s face.

“I do not expect to be in your good graces — no matter how I might wish to be.”

“A man who does not believe in learning in a woman — I am the most learned woman of my acquaintance, I must take that as scorn against me personally.”

There was a soft smirk on Darcy’s face. “It does strike against you.”

“Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana said in a cautious voice, evidently a little confused by the conversation. “You must not… Miss Bennet, he does not mean he disapproves of learning. He has always encouraged me to study, and to do anything I might to improve myself.”

“Oho! What knowings are admissible to the tender, weak, and easily influenced mind of a female creature.”

Darcy began, “We both admit men are not always paragons of reason and virtue—”

“I freely admit that.”

He smirked at her. There was a long pause as he tilted his head and studied her. Elizabeth felt something in the air between them, something that ignored the presence of his relatively young sister sitting between them. “Surely you acknowledge women do not have the same spark in their souls as a man. A very clever man will always be more than a very clever woman — the great poets, scientists, philosophers, statesmen — they are never women.”

Elizabeth growled. Infuriating man. To flirt with her and then make such a stupid argument. “Women are not given opportunity to grow and display our talents! You know that means nothing. We are expected to live dull lives of useless dullness and — Your premise is false. False! The Greeks agreed that Sappho was amongst the greatest of their poets.”

“One name.” His eyes were light. There was some spark in them. “Besides, she threw herself off a cliff over the love of a ferryman.”

“Spurious story, invention of those men who despise female poets because their fragile pride cannot survive if men are not superior in all areas.”

“Suicide and immorality. Her, Wollstonecraft, other women with too much learning. You will not convince me it is well for your sex.”

“Wollstonecraft: the first refuge of every gentleman with a desire to mock female learning.”

“She wrote proper education could overcome the passions, and then was driven entirely by her passions to two attempts at suicide and an illegitimate child. She had need of a firm hand from a gentleman who cared for her interests.” Darcy smirked. “You cannot accuse me of speaking of that which I have not studied — I read The Rights of Women.”

“Bravo!” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Wollstonecraft’s advice to reject passion seems to be of a piece with your attitudes. Not of mine. You learned too well from her philosophy. A wise person will find a union of passion and reason.”

“Women cannot.”

“Men can? One day you too will find yourself victim of such imprudent passion, and with nothing but your reason to defend you, and your reason will fail.”

“When we talk in possibilities, anything is possible. But in actualities women are more easily driven by their passions than men.”

“I oppose to you Shakespeare. Othello, Macbeth, Romeo, and Bottom the rude mechanical — men driven into error by their passions.”

“Bottom? The one turned into an ass?” Darcy quirked his mouth. “Unfair. Shakespeare is no historian.”

“Then I offer you that low creature beloved by history: The common politician. If all the great statesmen and philosophers are men, so are all petty politicians, dishonest lawyers, and gentlemen wastrels.”

“Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana asked, “are you attempting to provoke Miss Bennet?”

Darcy’s mask broke and he blushed and looked down and rubbed his sleeve. He opened his mouth and closed it.

When he looked up, Elizabeth met his eyes steadily and in a twisting sensation that caused butterflies to flutter upwards from her stomach into her chest and throat, she realized he was intentionally provoking her. He admired her, but had not learned that annoying a woman did not lead to her heart.

Or could it?

A very handsome man.

“Oh!” Georgiana exclaimed and blushed. Darcy and Elizabeth blushed as well.

Anne poked Georgiana, wanting more attention. Hoping to look maternal Elizabeth stretched out her arms in offer, and the girl let Elizabeth sit her on her lap. “What do you really think, Mr. Darcy? Are you convinced my mind is inferior to yours? Plato supports that notion, but we shall never be real friends if that is your considered belief.”

“No, no — not like in the Republic.” He glanced at Georgiana and said in a lecturer’s voice, “Plato had the notion that men and women were alike in all important respects, except women were at all points inferior. A woman could do anything a man could do, but not as well. He was wrong. A woman is a different sort of being than man, not an inferior variant of a man. Miss Bennet, you cannot believe men and women are the same. That we have the same pattern work of strengths and virtues.”

“No…” Elizabeth frowned thoughtfully and rocked Anne back and forth. “You claimed a clever man will always be more clever. That offends me. That is not where man’s superiority lies.”

“Where then is a man superior?”

Elizabeth laughed. “No, no, no! I will not reply to that.”

“You hope to deny male and female difference?”

“In mental points only — the physical differences are obvious; I celebrate them!” She boldly let her eyes admire his person. With a smile she looked back up to meet Mr. Darcy’s eyes. “Do you not celebrate them as well?”

He blushed, like a school boy. Darcy glanced at his sister. “Is that your considered belief? Males and females possess no differences in the mind.”

“Are not differences in the body enough? They explain other matters.” She wanted to leer at him again.

Darcy said nothing, He just looked at her, deep into her eyes. Her stomach was flipping again.

He broke the gaze and looked at the fire with high color. “Nay, nay…some great men have been deficient in the body, but not the mind — Homer, Milton, the blind poets. The difference between man and woman is not a matter of the body alone.”

“Sappho — and Wollstonecraft. A greater thinker than Burke.”

“You dislike Burke?”

Georgiana laughed. “Now I understand why Bingley separated you two.” She took Anne from Elizabeth’s arms. “Fitzwilliam, whether Miss Bennet or you are right about which sex is the cleverest, she is as learned and clever as you.”

Darcy blinked as his sister walked away. “Miss Bennet, what did you say to my sister?”

“Perhaps you two have not spoken often about the intrinsic inferiority of my sex? For my part, I think anything that makes her begin to see you more as a mere human is salutary.”

“I beg you to leave my sister to my management.”

“I shall treat her as any adult woman of my acquaintance.”

Darcy grimaced. Handsomely. It was unfortunate: He did everything handsomely.

“You worried she was lonely. Now you worry when she has friends.”

“She is my sister. In my care. And I love her — I shall always worry, no matter what.” The mischievous glint returned to his eyes. “I expected her friends to have the nature of Mrs. Bingley.”

Elizabeth swooned and fluttered her eyelashes. “I am one of those women! Not safe for impressionable young girls? You do know how to flatter a woman.”

He smiled, also handsomely. “And you claimed flattery could not move you. You like being said dangerous.”

“I have never been called that before.” Elizabeth grinned unabashedly. He did know how to flatter a woman. “I beg you not to hide your sister from my influence.”

“You are too good hearted to intend her real harm.”

“I am good hearted? Am I also an angel?”

“An imp.”

Elizabeth laughed. She placed her hand on his well-muscled arm. “Mr. Darcy, we shall be friends.”

He grinned back at her. “You like my manner of flattery.”

“No one flatters me like you do.”

“None of the hordes of gentlemen circling round you?”

“At mine age, spinster already, how many gentlemen do you think there might be?” Elizabeth dramatically touched her breast, and then she laughed buoyantly. They both knew they were flirting with each other. Her whole body was oriented towards Darcy, and he faced her.

“You have as many admirers as you wish.” Darcy paused for a beat and grinned boyishly again, showing that he knew how arrogant what he would say was, but that he said it for the fun. “We are very much alike in that.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Your pile draws every rational or passionate woman — I refer to your hair, not your home or your rents.”

He shrugged, roguishly smiling, and pulled at his locks. “Deuced fine head of hair.”

“I empathize with your difficulty in fending off admirers — I do have many.”

Darcy laughed. “Miss Bennet, I declare, we shall be good friends.”