A/N: Hello! This is my first story, hope you enjoy it. It is a 'Lady C did not happen' scenario, which means Jane and Bingley married and Elizabeth is settled at Netherfield with them, but still unmarried. There will be a total of four chapters. Thanks to PutItBriefly for kindly betaing my story!

"My dear," said he, "you are a vision. Is it possible for me to love you even more in the evenings?"

His lady smiled at his reflection in the mirror and blushed prettily. "I should like to believe so."

"Well, I do."

She arranged her golden curls in a long plait, then slipped the dressing-gown off her body. Awaiting her, was their large bed and, upon it, her man. She cuddled to his body, the warmth welcome during those chilly evenings of late February.

"You flatter me too much."

"Is it not the duty of a husband? Either way, your beauty is enchanting and growing each day."

"I cannot take the whole responsibility of that. Happiness, I think, improves the appearance."

He rewarded her with a gentle kiss on her lips. Then, a comfortable, calm silence settled upon them. That lasted until a long sigh shook his chest. "Jane," he began, "although I find your sister as delightful as ever, she does appear troubled. If happiness influences the looks, she may not be as happy as I believed."

Jane eyed him fondly. "Your concern for Lizzy warms my heart."

"She is you favourite sister. I like her as much as you do."

"Of that, I am very glad. However, I fear you may be right."

"Is she not happy here at Netherfield, then?"

"She is happy to be living with us. Her sentiments on that score are rather clear, but I am afraid she quite is anxious these days and it is due to your friend's visit."

"Darcy? I was under the impression they had formed a friendship of sorts. They were quite friendly at our wedding."

His lady shifted away from her embrace and sat on her knees. "Lizzy is the sort of person to secure my peace of mind by exerting herself. I believe their acquaintance did improve, but, Charles—oh, I suppose you are ignorant of an important part of this story."

"Is there a story?"

"Has Mr. Darcy not told you of the time they had spent together in Kent, last April?"

"I only know of a quarrel."

Then, you can see why Lizzy may be uncomfortable. Being forced in the company of a jilted suitor must be distasteful."

Bingley's eyebrows raised high in his forehead. Oh, no, he did not know. "Darcy, jilted?"

"Oh dear," Jane's dainty fingers covered her mouth in distress. "You are ignorant of it."

Jane felt guilty. Disclosing intimate details of her sister's life was so unfair! But this was her Charles, Lizzy's fretful brother, not a random stranger prying in personal matters. She gave a faithful account of what Lizzy had told her. A rejected proposal, the following insults and accusations, their awkward meeting at Pemberley, and Lizzy's anxiety when both gentlemen had returned to Hertfordshire that fateful autumn.

Bingley listened, mouth agape. "Upon my word, this is unbelievable!"

"I know."

"That old dog never said a word! A proposal of marriage! A dreadful proposal! What was he thinking? Poor Lizzy."

"She was rather cross, but, Charles, I do think she is not as vexed as she used to be, nor she is as decided against the gentleman. There is no need to fret about her."

Bingley considered her words. "Had I been aware of this affair, I would have never invited Darcy."

"Lizzy is a sensible woman. She would not openly display her dislike. She is very attentive to civility and she would not indulge in petty behaviour. You need not to concern yourself on that."

Bingley sank back in the cushions. "Jane, I still wish I could mend that. Mayhap I should rescind my invitation."

"You cannot, Charles! He is your friend and you must welcome him in your house. And you need his counsel about the managing of this estate."

Bingley rubbed his weary eyes. What an unfortunate mishap! "You are right, my love. It pains me, however, to give Lizzy a hard time."

"We could—well, we could offer some help to them."

"Help?"

"Mr. Darcy has kindly accepted your invitation, but he must feel as uncomfortable as my sister does. As hosts, we ought to mind their comfort. We should endeavour not to leave them in one another's company to avoid any embarrassment. Mr. Darcy is to be busy with you and your steward anyway. Our efforts must be directed to leisure time."

Bingley grinned. "That is a splendid idea. Being thrown in each other's company often would be so dreadful for them!"

Jane nodded and was happy to relax back against his body. "It is shortly more than a se'nnight. We shall put our best efforts is this endeavour—they do not need be to fret over each other's company."

Her husband agreed.

Three days later, the sister in question studied her reflection in the mirror with careful eyes.

She had put a painful amount of time in her choice of attire. Flirtation was in her mind, yes, but behaving unseemingly, she did not wish to. The simple, morning gown of a candid peach shade was becoming on her figure. It was a far cry from the pretty sight she had presented at Jane and Bingley's wedding, but she was satisfied.

Last night, Mr. Darcy had finally arrived at Netherfield.

His arrival had been expected, but not that night. How unfortunate she had retired early! She had not been there to welcome him properly. She had been in her chambers, fancying to flirt with him, to laugh with him. That morning, a sense of faint panic struck her when her maid had informed her of his presence.

How many times had the hopes for a renewal of his addresses been crushed by now? In autumn, he had come to Hertfordshire with Bingley. She had thanked him for his unprecedented kindness towards her family, he had been polite—though, not gracious in accepting her gratitude. Then, at the wedding, he had been warm and friendly, but, again, he had disappeared shortly after. Were he to refuse any alliance with her, she would not fault him. If his affections had survived her harsh rejection, they could not withstand a connection with Mr. Wickham—he was only human, after all.

Elizabeth left her bedroom, and in a flutter of excitement dashed down the stairwell. If only her heart would be still! It had been so long since her eyes had laid on his dear face.

The effect was immediate. He was alone in the breakfast parlour, busy with a newspaper, relaxed and unguarded in a big chair. Her gaze indulged on his fine figure and on his dear, handsome features, perhaps a little more than it was proper. Warmth swelled in her heart, mixing with the butterflies in her stomach, with a delicious anxiety that only his presence could evoke.

"Miss Bennet!" Darcy quickly stood and bowed. The newspaper was swiftly discarded. "Good morning."

With a brilliant smile, she curtsied. "To you, sir." Elizabeth took her usual place at the large table. Jane and Bingley were nowhere to be seen and—how silly!—her cheeks felt as if they were burning. "It appears, I must be the one to welcome you to Netherfield. Excuse my brother and sister, please."

He returned to his seat. "I must be the one to be making apologies for my unanticipated arrival. The roads were in a good state and I seized the opportunity."

"Oh! Pray, have you already broke your fast?"

"I was waiting for my hosts."

"You must be famished after the long journey. I am sure a cup of tea can be forgiven."

After asking for coffee, he turned his attention back to her. "How is your family at Longbourn faring?"

"Very well, though it is a rather desolate place in these days. The absence of three daughters is felt keenly."

"I can imagine," he smiled, just slightly. "Mr. and Mrs Bingley adore you. It is not a surprise you relocated here."

"They are all that is good. And your sister?"

"She remains at Pemberley. She is very well. The holidays were good on her spirits."

The image of Pemberley bubbled up in her mind. It must be even lovelier in winter, with a light layer of delicate snow adorning the beautiful grounds and the parks. The edges of the noble stone gentled by the softness of snowflakes. Would she ever be as lucky to see it with her own eyes?

"Good Heavens! Darcy, Lizzy—what are you doing?"

Darcy was swift in standing, again; and bowing, again.

As the host stood unmoving with a dumbfounded expression, the hostess graciously curtsied. "Welcome to Netherfield, Mr. Darcy. I hope your journey was uneventful."

"It was, Mrs. Bingley, thank you. The roads were in a tolerably good state."

The couple was quick in joining the others. Elizabeth could only offer an apologetic smile. "I am sorry we began without you."

"I am sorry we left you—Darcy, that is—alone."

"Yes," Jane agreed. "We shall be more punctual, to-morrow."

Elizabeth's nose wrinkled. "I am sure it is of no consequence."

Bingley grinned at his friend. "Old chap, you must eat—you must eat a lot. I plan to keep you outdoors all day. You see, there are some fields I need to show you. My steward is still undecided about the crops. I should like to hear your opinion on the place, as soon as it may be."

The saucer clinked loudly as Elizabeth put down her cup. "It is freezing outside, Charles."

"Nonsense, Lizzy! We are robust men, fearless of the hostile winter! This is what being a responsible master means—am I right, Darcy?"

The poor man frowned. "I suppose."

Jane reached over and patted her sister's hand. "Lizzy, they are busy. You know my husband cannot wait to be learning more about the management of the grounds. Your concern for their health is admirable, but the fabric of winter garments serve the exact purpose to be a stout shelter from coldness."

It was fortunate that the topic was dropped and moved to London's ugly desolation in winter.

At length, Bingley was truly excited about receiving Darcy's counsel. He stood up, bowed to the ladies, then dragged him from the breakfast parlour, as soon as the special guest announced his hunger was sated.

A frown of confusion plagued Elizabeth. With a thin curve of her lips, Jane only shrugged her shoulders.

From the large window of the sitting-room, the grey sky loomed menacingly. No doubt, the air was sharp and crisp outside, yet Elizabeth longed to be outdoors.

Spending the whole day crouched on ribbons and stitches was everything tedious. She shoved her needlework in the sewing basket and relaxed back on the cushions of the sofa. "Pray, Jane, what is about Charles's enthusiasm for the grounds? I believed him to be in capable hands with Mr. Allenby."

Jane's eyes did not leave her own labour. "Mr. Allenby is a formidable steward, but he should like to learn more from Mr. Darcy. He esteems him so! Being the master of a vast estate, with many years of experience on his shoulders, is a guarantee of high counsel. This why Charles invited him to Netherfield, I assure you."

"Indeed. Mr. Darcy is a good friend and he must be in possession of many words of advice to share. The matters of estate and land hardly fit in the list of a lady's accomplishments, yet I should like to listen to his praised wisdom!"

The other looked up, distressed wrinkles at the corner of her eyes. "You are not forced to listen to Mr. Darcy's speeches about such matters. They do not concern us, dear."

Dear Jane was the perfect mistress of the household. Perhaps, she was simply disinterested in pragmatic topics such as the choice of crops. Standing on sore legs, Elizabeth claimed, "I should like to venture outside."

Jane muttered something quite unintelligible.

Elizabeth casually enquired, "Do you know where the men have gone to? I thought—I may bring them some fruit or refreshments. They have been out for all day."

With a small start, her sister's blue eyes finally tore from the elegant CB stitched on the immaculate handkerchief. "I know not. Charles did not mention any direction in particular. Oh, it is cold outside! You better stay here and warm yourself, my dear."

Had Jane already forgot the existence of the much-praised winter garments?

"I am sure the men will be back in a short time, Lizzy."

And, in fact, the men came back less than one hour later. Bingley had ruddy cheeks, but wore a broad grin. Darcy's face, however, bespoke of nothing but weariness. Without their great coats and hats, the gentlemen appeared ruffled, cold and in need of a steamy cup of tea.

As Jane exchanged pleasantries—and scolded Bingley—Elizabeth found the reddened tip of Darcy's nose the most endearing object in the room.

"Sir," she addressed the gentleman and gestured towards the couch in front of the fire. "Pray, take my place close to the fireplace."

He bowed stiffly. "I thank you, Miss Bennet, but I would not deprive you of comfort and warmth."

His gallantry pulled a smile from her, along with pleasant flutters in her belly. "I insist. It would be unfortunate if we allowed you to freeze. I am sure, not even a kind soul like Miss Darcy would forgive us if we returned her brother turned into solid ice."

But Darcy was nothing like ice. On the contrary, the grateful, handsome smile she received had the effect of summer air on her. "Thank you."

As he sunk among stuffed cushions, she leaned against the mantelpiece. "You must tell, Mr. Darcy," she bid cheerfully, "about your celebrated skills at taking care of your estate. I happen to be as curious as Charles."

A full eyebrow arched. "Celebrated? I am afraid all I have to tell about is quite tedious. I could bore even the most eager of audience."

But Bingley and Jane loomed over the pair, clipped smiles on their countenances. With only a hint of edge in her melodious tone, Jane said, "We better go and change in our evening attire. It is almost six."

"I thought we could ring for tea before that."

Bingley gladly chimed in, "Pardon, Lizzy, but I am famished and I am sure Darcy is as well."

Elizabeth's shoulders sagged. And, as if the disappointment of the interruption was not enough, her dear sister's hand had already trapped hers and tugged her from that warm, cosy corner.

To Mr. Darcy, Jane only smiled beatifically, "I have called for tea for you and Charles, sir. Please, excuse us."

Not prone to petty displays, but also not keen to be swayed, Elizabeth found herself quite frustrated as Jane guided her to the staircase. In a huff, she whispered, "Jane, that was—why such hurry?"

"I feel guilty because my husband kept my guest busy all day—Mr. Darcy must be hungry and I do not wish to have him wait more than necessary."

That was understandable, but it hardly gave any solace to a frustrated, besotted, impatient sister. "You are a laudable in your efforts to be caring and kind, but—"

With a frown, Jane spun to face her. "But?"

"But, that was quite rude!"

Jane resumed her path. "I am sure dear Mr. Darcy will excuse my behaviour, once a hot dinner is served on time."

Dinner was a success. Or better, the soup was. Steamy and hot, it was the most appreciated course of the meal.

The mistress was satisfied. Her sister, a bit less so.

After that, they gathered in the drawing-room. Bingley monopolised Darcy's attention with a game of whist. At least, the ladies were allowed to participate.

Elizabeth's hand was unfortunate. Luck was still nowhere to be found during the third round of the game. Her brow wrinkled in disappointment, she gave a loud sigh. "This is ridiculous."

Bingley chuckled. "Losing again, Lizzy?"

"Let us just say I am grateful we made no wager."

"Oh, dearest!" Jane leaned to her and peered down at her cards. "You seem to have no luck at all to-day."

Elizabeth's smile was more rueful than accommodating.

"If remember correctly," Darcy interjected, "you are not fond of the particular past time."

Bingley's hands greedily moved on the cards on the table; he was going to win this game. "It is a wonder she agreed to partake to the game. She usually prefers other occupations."

The other gentleman's cheek coloured just slightly, and his gaze settled on the unlucky player. "Last year, when you came to Netherfield to attend Mrs Bingley in her time of illness, you always avoided to take part in these activities. You prefer reading, if I am correct?"

"I most certainly do," Elizabeth admitted. Her personal preferences were still in his mind! "As you see, I am not a great player. But I do enjoy some diversions of the kind."

Jane smiled fondly at her. "You see, sir, the fault is ours. My father provided us with a beautiful chessboard, but I am unable to play, and Bingley lacks the patience for it. Lizzy grew up in my father's library, therefore she is acquainted with the game and likes it more than cards."

"I see."

Bingley was happy to gain another victory. Another round was not suggested, much to Elizabeth's relief.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy bid, as his long fingers absently shuffled the deck. "I would be honoured if you were to agree to a game of chess with me."

"Oh!" Elizabeth's eyes lit up at the suggestion. Was Luck beginning to side with her? Was there hope? "I should like a match with you very much, sir!"

"Well then—"

Eager as she was, her legs stood too quickly, the chair was almost knocked over. "The chessboard is in the library. Will you—"

"Darcy, you cannot do that."

The man turned to his friend, surprise widening his eyes. "Pardon?"

As Jane snatched the deck from elegant hands, Bingley blushed at his own dare. "What I mean is—well, you cannot go in the library with Lizzy, you see, because—"

An angelic hand from the Heavens came to Bingley's rescue. "My husband, forgive him, is quite rude. We are of the opinion to retire early, if you agree."

The younger sister's annoyance surged quickly. Patiently, with only the smallest hint of exasperation, she began, "Jane, dearest, surely it is too early for—"

"Have we expressed our regret in keeping Mr. Darcy busy for the whole day?" To Darcy, she explained, "You must be extremely weary, sir. We all wish you a fruitful rest and the earlier we do just that, the better."

Her husband was quite happy to side with her, and, "Darce, to-morrow, another occasion to play chess will present itself, I am sure."

As the three studied their poor guest, waiting for his reply, Darcy grew tensed. At last, he admitted: "Of course, I must say I am—yes, I am quite tired. Forgive me, Miss Bennet."

The woman crossed her arms on her chest and slumped against the hard wood of the chair. How utterly unfair! "Do not mention it," she willed a cheery tone. "My sister is right indeed—better to indulge in some reinvigorating sleep."

The thought of Bingley and Jane commanding Mr. Darcy to sleep, as if he were a child, should have been appallingly hilarious, but all Elizabeth could think of was how decided against her Luck was.

"We did well."

Her husband confirmed that and snuggled closer to his wife. "We have been quite successful."

Jane doused the candle on her bedside. "We should be more mindful of good manners, though."

A smile and a kiss later, and Bingley confessed, "I enjoyed very much your managing of Darcy, your delightful want of deference. He is not prone to be ordered around for sure, but seeing your sending him straight to bed was—a rather unique sight, dear."

"I would have never dared such thing," Jane sighed, "if necessity did not require it. A game of chess between such spirited persons is out of question."

"I must say Lizzy is a truly dignified lady. Her conduct towards Mr. Darcy is so welcome and friendly! She must be putting so many efforts in concealing her discomfort."

Jane pondered his words, then, "My sister, I believe, is really being considerate towards us. She has no wish to cause any tension in the house. She always preaches my goodness, but she is not at all wanting of such virtue."

"Oh, poor Lizzy! She has little to fear—we are always willing to lend her a most helpful hand!"