Lizzy realized that she had indeed met Sir Griffin, his wife, and the eldest son and wife at the Cole's Masque. Frankly, many of the names and faces from that night had blurred over time, and she could not recall being introduced to the second son or either daughter. Sir Griffin greeted them both with a ready smile and honest delight.

“Mr. Darcy, thank you for accepting our sudden invitation. Please forgive the abruptness, but you have a terrible habit, my boy, of quitting town ere anyone knows you are here! Mrs. Darcy, how are you finding our quaint community?”

“What I have viewed thus far is lovely, Sir Griffin. Mr. Darcy and I strolled the park today and along the river after a bit of shopping; however, most of the region I have yet to survey.”

“Darcy, you must take your wife to the Cathedral and Allestree Park. A trip to Derby is not complete unless you do.”

Darcy nodded. “I planned as much, Sir Griffin. We intend to tarry for three days at the least, affording enough time.”

The remainder of the introductions commenced. Lady Griffin was pleasant if quiet. The sons were around Darcy's age, agreeable, and talkative like their father. Edith was the eldest daughter, perhaps two or three years younger than Darcy, and recently engaged to a Lord Ryan of Oxfordshire. The Darcys congratulated her as was appropriate, Edith obviously a Caroline Bingley type who was quite proud of herself for her conquest.

Amy was a year or so older than Lizzy, vivacious and incredibly beautiful. She eyed Lizzy with intense interest, an undercurrent of distaste in her greeting that Lizzy could not fathom initially. Darcy's greeting was stilted even for him, and Lizzy, who knew him so well, instantly sensed his discomfiture. It was confusing, but the mass of voices and activity allotted her no time to puzzle it out.

Dinner advanced without unusual incidence, amusing in fact, Lizzy entertained especially by Sir Griffin and his sons. They were animated and humorous, even the usual business discussions entertaining. Lizzy had culled a fair knowledge of animal husbandry and agriculture via the numerous, in-depth conversations with Darcy, startling all three gentlemen at her contribution to their exchange. Darcy, as typical, was sedate. He added the occasional commentary but generally ate in silence and delighted in his wife's effervescence.

The women, with the exception of the cheery and somewhat flirty Amy, said practically nothing. Amy, to Lizzy's annoyance and Darcy's disquiet, continually attempted to draw him into conversation. She sat diagonal to him, frequently asking him questions he was obliged to answer and referring to past events they apparently had mutually attended. Eventually, a stern glower from her father ended the worst of her inappropriate attention, Lizzy relieved for both herself and her husband, but also curious.

When the groups parted as propriety deemed mandatory, Lizzy rolled her eyes toward her husband, who hid his laugh with a kiss to her fingers. “Have fun, love,” he whispered wryly with a slight smile and arch of one brow.

The women settled on sofas, sipping tea and entering into the standard women's chat of local gossip, fashion, gardening, and other idle topics.

“Mrs. Darcy, I understand congratulations are in order,” Lady Griffin said politely, “you and Mr. Darcy are expecting, I believe?”

Lizzy smiled, nodding as she agreed. “Yes, Lady Griffin, this is true and thank you. We are overjoyed.”

Annabella spoke dreamily, “I remember my first confinement. I have two children, Mrs. Darcy, the youngest only six months. It can be difficult at times, but the rewards are quite worth the sacrifice.”

“That is comforting. Thank you, Mrs. Griffin. I have been fortunate thus far so am hopeful it will continue.”

“Yes, you have been most fortunate, Mrs. Darcy,” Amy said with a faint sneer, “ensnaring the most eligible bachelor in Derbyshire, of cert. What was your secret? Do tell, so we can know how we failed.”

Lizzy was stunned and extremely uncomfortable, not sure if Miss Amy was jesting or alluding to something in particular.

Miss Griffin laughed and patted her sister's hand. “Still a sore loser, Amy? Forgive my sister, Mrs. Darcy. She, like many other young women, plotted to no avail. Mr. Darcy was a singularly tough nut to crack, until he found what he was searching for, obviously.” She smiled kindly and nodded toward Lizzy.

With a giddy, vapid laugh, Mrs. Griffin the younger chimed in, “Then he apparently proceeded with due haste! Quite the surprise, it was. One month he is courting our Amy and seemingly the next he is engaged to you!” She giggled, casting a pointed glance to Lizzy's midsection. “Apparently, he works quite fast in every way!”

Lizzy paled, suddenly feeling quite ill. With a triumphant smirk, Amy shrugged as if unconcerned. “Well, men too can be fickle. Who really knows what they are thinking, especially the quiet ones? Is that not true, Mrs. Darcy?”

Lizzy collected herself with effort, responding as firmly as possible with a sudden flare of jealousy. “I do not believe I can concur to such a generality, Miss Amy. Perhaps some men do not reveal themselves to those they are only mildly interested in.”

“This may be the case. However, a woman should be able to take a man at his word when he expresses interest and asks to call. After all, we poor females are completely at the mercy of a man's pleasure, so can only assume he is serious if he states his intent.”

“Enough, Amy,” Lady Griffin interjected with a laugh, as if the subject were highly amusing, “Let the past fade and look only to the future, I always say! I heard that the Prince Regent plans to hold a major fête next spring for his birthday. Now there is a discussion worth engaging in!”

For Lizzy, the remaining hour, despite the innocent banter, was torture. She managed to push her pain and jealousy aside for the most part, but was subdued, and when the men reentered the room, Darcy instantly knew something was amiss. Lizzy avoided his gaze, was pale, and her hands trembled. Falsely deducing she was fatigued and perhaps ill, he extended their thanks to Sir Griffin and escorted his wife to their carriage as quickly as decorum allowed.

The carriage had barely begun moving and he was facing his wife, clasping her cool hands in his warm ones. “Elizabeth? Are you ill? You should have called for me, beloved. Elizabeth?” Her face was averted, cast into the shadows of the inky carriage interior. She did not answer and his alarm escalated. Cupping her cheek, he attempted to pull her toward him, but she resisted and he felt wetness on his fingers. Truly terrified, he pulled harder. “Elizabeth! You are worrying me! Are you in pain?”

She was facing him now, lips trembling and tears shining in the pale moonlight. It was difficult to see her in the gloom, but he noted pain in her eyes, and her voice, when she spoke, was anguished. “When did you court Amy Griffin? Mere months before our marriage, so I was informed. While you were reportedly prostrate in your grief over me?”

Darcy staggered backward onto the seat, mouth open in shock. “What…?”

“She told me. Took great delight in telling me, in fact, of your intent and interest and seriousness. Why, William, would you take me to meet a woman you courted without at least warning me?”

Darcy pressed his lips together tightly and clenched his jaw, directing his gaze toward the far window. “I will not discuss this here, Elizabeth. It can wait until we are in our room.” His voice was flat and low, brooking no argument.

Once alit from the carriage, a rigid Darcy escorted Lizzy to their room, dropping her arm and crossing immediately to pour himself a brandy. He stood with his back to her, drinking, while Lizzy suffered waves of intense nausea.

Knees weak, she sat down feeling seriously ill, willing him to speak. When he finally did, his tone was icy and he kept his back to her.

“Elizabeth, I never claimed that I did not consider other women before I met you. From the time I was eighteen, I had every acceptable lady shoved into my face with friends and family incessantly harping on me to make a match, not to mention Lady Catherine badgering me about Anne every time I turned around. I was eight and twenty when I fell in love with you. Ten long years of potentials with their pedigrees and necessary standards listed ad nauseam, the qualifications drummed into me. Believe me, my family was frantic at my persistent single status, anxious about the Darcy line, and beginning to seriously fret that I was becoming too particular and set in my ways. Ten years of pressure. In those latter years, I began to agree with their assessment. I was tired of being lonely, tired of searching, tired of the parade of unsavory options, tired of relieving my sexual desires myself, tired of wanting.”

He finished the brandy with a large swallow, setting the glass down with a loud crash, and then turned around. His eyes were black with anger and old pain. “The stupidest thing I ever did in all my life was leave Hertfordshire. Maybe, just maybe, if I had stayed I could have proven my love for you and learned to accept it myself. Instead, I idiotically tried to forget you. Amy Griffin was at the Masque that winter. She flirted; we danced twice, and talked a bit. Do you know what my first thought was when she spoke?” Lizzy shook her head slightly, staring into his eyes. “That she reminded me of Elizabeth Bennet.” He smiled wryly. “She was witty, vivacious, pretty, proper, and acceptable. I wondered if she could fill the void in my heart that I keenly felt was only touched when I was with you. We encountered each other that winter at a few social engagements, and I called on her twice after Twelfth Night: all proper, in her home, with family present. I do not even know why I bothered the second time, except I had to be sure. Not sure that she was not the one for me, but sure that you were. Miss Amy is the only woman I had ever met who was nearest to what I had sought, yet she was not the one. That place was already taken by you, Elizabeth. After that second visit, I was convinced and decided to somehow find you again and win your hand.”