The reception for Fitzwilliam Darcy at Twenty-Seven Gracechurch Street was far colder than any he had experienced. He spent a number of minutes arguing with the butler to admit him before he might even attempt to visit his Elizabeth.

“I’m sorry, sir, I am instructed to bar your entrance to this house. My master’s orders,” The Gardiners’ man explained.

“Will you please tell them I am here? I only wish to speak to Miss Bennet or even to her uncle, Mr. Gardiner. You know me! I have come to call here many times!” Darcy shouted in frustration. Being barred from a house was an entirely new experience for Fitzwilliam Darcy and short of acting the madman on the street, he wasn’t entirely sure of the protocol necessary to gain entrance.

“Please do not make me remove you, SIR!” The burly servant widened his eyes, and Darcy took a step back. “Good day.”

The door slammed in Darcy’s face, making the grand, wealthy man hunch his shoulders in response to the rudeness of such an action. Despite the cold, Darcy implemented the only plan he could imagine. With his driver looking on from the carriage still parked on the side of the street, Fitzwilliam Darcy, the owner of Carver House, Pemberley, and Darcy House in London, began trying the soles of his shoes as he paced back and forth on the cobblestone walk in front of the Gardiner home. Every few moments he would pause to blow his breath into his hands or adjust his coat for warmth, but then he would begin his march anew.

“Mr. Darcy, sir, at least come sit in the carriage if you’re going to wait for your Misses?” his driver called from atop the carriage. Peter Holbein’s family had been servants of the Darcys for three generations. Young Peter, as he was still called though his father Peter was long since passed, was as much a staple to Mr. Darcy’s life as his relatives.

“That I cannot do, Holbein. She will not accept me if she does not observe my suffering.”

Though it seemed to be ages, Darcy continued his sentry of the walk in front of the Gardiner house for nigh on half an hour.

Inside, Mrs. Gardiner sat on the sofa and observed her niece standing two feet from the window, studying the man she claimed to love as he paced back and forth in front of the house. She couldn’t blame Elizabeth for putting Darcy through such a test, but enough was enough.

“Either go tell the young man you will hear what he has to say or banish him forever more. I don’t want the neighbors to talk,” Mrs. Gardiner announced.

Elizabeth sighed. It was not as if she did not hold previous knowledge of his peculiar arrangement with his family. But reading the engagement notice of her Mr. Darcy to another woman this morning had revealed a monster of jealousy in her heart she had not been prepared to confront. Her Uncle ranted and raved, telling her how here it was, undeniable proof he had no intention of ever making her an honest woman. She cried at the breakfast table, sobbed in her room, and now her Mr. Darcy was here to offer his explanation, but she found she had no more tears left for the man. It was finally time to talk with him.

“Anna? Would you fetch my cloak and gloves?” Elizabeth asked of the maid waiting upon them in the parlor. Elizabeth glanced to her aunt, who nodded her head in approval.

Once dressed to brave the elements and her future, Elizabeth Bennet nodded to the butler to open the front door and stood upon the top step of the stoop. At first his back was to her as he was pacing away from the front door, but as soon as he turned with a scowl on his face, a smile grew instead upon seeing her there, and he rushed to her side.

“Elizabeth, I swear, if I had known — if I had any idea what my aunt was up to, I would have given you fair warning. She blindsided me with this engagement announcement. I did not approve.”

Elizabeth furrowed her brow and shifted her weight from foot to foot. She stared down the block to her uncle’s warehouses but did not see any sign of him. Yet she was certain a note was dispatched to him the second Darcy arrived. It would not be long before the two men would be forced into a clash of wills. Still vulnerable herself on the matter, she reasoned the simplest solution was to invite Mr. Darcy to walk in the small park down the lane. He happily agreed, even though he was already chilled.

As they entered the park, Elizabeth accepted his arm and led him to a small bench just around the first turn in the path. The bench was long enough for two to sit comfortably but remain close. It was one of her favorite places to view the pond. However, there was no wildlife about as in other months of the year.

“My darling, please say something. Yell, rant, abuse me, anything but your silence! There can be nothing good from the silence of a woman like Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” Darcy pleaded.

Elizabeth stared at her feet as she swung her legs back and forth. Not quite tall enough to keep her feet on the ground while sitting fully on the bench like her Mr. Darcy, she was comforted by the habit from her youth which her mother would most certainly scold her for at this moment in time.

“My mother threw me out of the house. That is why I live with my aunt and uncle,” Elizabeth said quietly.

The shock of such a statement coursed through Darcy’s veins, and he immediately sat forward in alarm. “Whatever might you have done that would excuse Mrs. Bennet to act in such a beastly manner? Surely the fault must lie with her.”

Elizabeth ignored the sting of crying while lacking the tears to do so as she turned her face to Mr. Darcy, and her lip trembled. “She wished to sacrifice me, so that she might stay at Longbourn. After my accident, my father feared . . .” Elizabeth took a deep breath, wondering why she was explaining this now, but he needed to understand. She could not be abandoned, not again and not by him. She took another deep breath and began once more.

“My father feared he had lost me. So together my parents made the plan that I was to marry Mr. Collins and live forever in their household, but I would not marry the man.” Elizabeth opened her mouth once more but uttered no words, imploring with all her heart for him to understand she was unable to wed Mr. Collins after meeting him, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Darcy cupped Elizabeth’s face with tenderness, and all the pain he imagined she endured pierced deeply into his own chest. The contrast between how Elizabeth had been treated by her own family for doing nothing wrong and his own sister who did not appreciate one ounce of support her family had given her nearly broke his heart. He might do nothing to rescue his fair lady, though he desperately wished it so.

“Please, can you trust me? Can you wait for me?”

Elizabeth heard a familiar voice in the distance. Racking her brain, she quickly had an answer.

“No, sir.”

“No?” Darcy appeared devastated, his full attention upon her.

“I’m afraid I require some assurances.” She pursed her lips and gazed at him imploringly as shouts could be heard at the front of the park. Recognizing her uncle coming down the path, Elizabeth stood and shook her hands to signal for Mr. Darcy to figure out her puzzle. Watching her hands encourage him towards her person, he gazed at her in utter confusion.

“Compromise,” she whispered, keeping an eye on her uncle, nearly upon them. Darcy glanced over his shoulder to find a red-faced Edward Gardiner no more than a hundred feet away.

Darcy rose from the bench as if to accept the abuse coming to him before he flashed Elizabeth a handsomely devilish smile and pulled her close to him, cradling her smaller frame in his arms. Pressing his lips to her own, he kissed her as thoroughly as his passion would allow until a rough hand yanked on his shoulder.

Releasing Elizabeth to allow her to stand, though stunned at the tingling he now enjoyed from her lips, Mr. Darcy fully prepared himself to be on the receiving end of a right hook. Thankfully, Mr. Gardiner was slightly slower to temper than Darcy or his cousin Richard when faced with a similar situation.

“Keep your hands away from my niece! You, you CAD!”

“Uncle,”

“I’ll deal with you, young lady, in a moment. You, sir, are no longer welcome in my home, and if I should even hear of your carriage on my street, I’ll. . . “

Mr. Darcy bowed, then glared at Mr. Gardiner with as much fortitude as he possessed from his many years of managing his own affairs. “Forgive me, but your niece required assurances. I am now honor bound to marry this woman as I boldly compromised her in full view of her relative.”

Elizabeth’s tinkling laughter as her uncle sputtered a few more words before stomping his foot finally melted the harsh exterior of Mr. Edward Gardiner.

Not waiting another moment, Elizabeth took a step towards her precious Mr. Darcy and clasped his hands in her own. Standing up on her tiptoes, she pressed her own lips against his, causing her uncle to cry out once more.

“That is enough! Your compromising is over, Elizabeth Bennet, and you, sir. . .,” Mr. Gardiner struggled for a moment before finally finding his words, “will give me an audience in my office, now!”

The new couple, cemented with kisses, could not find it within themselves to show a modicum of shame or trepidation as they were ushered to the Gardiner town home. With a forlorn expression upon his face which Elizabeth found endearing, Darcy accepted his fate and entered the office alone with Mr. Gardiner for his interview. After half an hour, which Elizabeth spent pacing the outside her uncle’s office, the two men announced they had reached an accord.

“Mr. Darcy has much business to conduct, Lizzie. So say goodbye and let him be on his way.” Mr. Gardiner left his office door open but gave the young couple a small measure of privacy in his entryway.

“So soon?” Elizabeth asked. “I was just asking my aunt to invite you to dine.”

Darcy clasped her hands in his and held them close to his chest. “There is so much I wish to discuss with you, but there’s no time. I am off to my solicitor as we speak, and then I must return home to face my relatives, I’m afraid.”

Elizabeth frowned. “I abhor the action they are taking against you. Do they not possess mercy nor suffer a care for their nephew?”

Darcy smiled bleakly at Elizabeth’s concern on his behalf. She would be quite the fearsome bulldog in London society if she were ever given half a chance. “I have precious little time, but please believe I love you, Elizabeth Bennet, with my body and soul I shall find a way to be free of their hold on me and come back to make you my wife. If you will still have me?”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and gently leaned forward to meet Mr. Darcy halfway for one last kiss before they parted. Hearing her uncle’s throat clearing behind them, they broke apart, and Darcy studied her face one last time. He knew it might be some weeks before he would visit her again.

“I gained your uncle’s permission to write. I hope you will write in return.”

“Always,” Elizabeth promised.

As Edward Gardiner opened his own front door, Elizabeth saw her Mr. Darcy enter his carriage and watched as it rolled away. She bit her lip as it finally registered in her mind that his talk of writing letters undoubtedly meant he would be away for a long time. Overcome with an intense sadness, Elizabeth turned and buried herself in her uncle’s chest. Edward Gardiner, inexperienced yet with the romantic stirrings of a young woman’s heart, had no choice but to embrace his niece and offer her what comfort he might.

“I do believe there is nothing that will prevent the young man from coming back for you, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth sobbed, still nestled in her uncle’s chest. “I know, Uncle. That is why I worry so much.”