Abigail stared out of the corner eye, watching and loathing, watching and loathing as she saw Mr Darcy's hand upon Johanna's hand, his rolicking laugh when Johanna leant in an whispered in his ear, his wandering hands when he pulled Johanna in for a loving kiss.

She was jealous jealous jealous.

It was her own love for Mr Darcy that drove her to these lengths, her own desperate, obsessive and ultimate, mind-controlling love that forced her to follow them wherever they went and watch them from the shadows. She had the power to hurt their relationship, all she had to do was tell someone from school that Mr Darcy was having an affair with a student, or perhaps she could tell his wife. But she couldn't, because that would hurt him, and she'd never do anything to hurt him.

Never never never.

Seething, she shifted her position slightly, silently. It was freezing. Abigail wished that she'd brought a jacket. It was cold here, in the deep, dark winter, on the hill that overlooked Mr Darcy's house. Last year she had discovered this vantage point, and since then she had spent most of her free time up there. Most of the time, her mother was too drunk to even notice that Abigail was missing.

Watching, watching, watching.

Mr Darcy hummed softly as he parked his car and pulled out hisbag. He was in a cheerful mood.

But who wouldn't be cheerful after spending a perfect evening with a beautiful woman? Johanna. Somewhere in his heart he felt guilty, he knew what he was doing was wrong in many ways. Cheating on his wife. Being disloyal to his family. Breaking the special trust between a teacher and student. Breaking all the rules of his job and faith.

Yet when they were together, Robert could not help himself. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, but as far as looks were concerned, Johanna was a Cleopatra, an Aphrodite, an Elizabeth Hurley. More than that, it was the way that they clicked, mentally and emotionally. Their long passionate discussions about peace and politics and the Panama Canal were savoured by both of them. Johanna may be blonde, but she was not brainless.

Even better was her unwavering loyalty to him. Robert had had his fill of socialite, sophisticated women. He should know, he was married to one. Johanna was the perfect Penelope, prepared to wait for him for years and remain faithful to him. Despite this Robert was still a little jealous of the amount of attention that she received from other men of all ages. But, by the same token, that only made him feel more priviliged to have her for his lover.

Of course he was the dominant on in their relationship but he was by no means tyrannical. Although he expected continual obedience from Johanna, he did not prevent her from having a life other than him as others may have when given such a pliable partner. This was more a practical measure than any other one. He could not spend all his time with her, obviously, he had a wife. But in a year or two, Robert wanted Johanna to be his completely.

He'd marry her.

"Good morning, sir." Abby's heart flutter as she saw Mr Darcy approaching.

"Morning, Abigail."

Abby sought to prolong their conversation as long as possible.

"Cold, isn't it?"

"Freezing. I have my log fire on all the time I'm at home now."

"I think we need a warmer school uniform."

"Well, you could wear pants."

It was a golden opportunity to draw his attention to her legs.

"Oh, I don't like wearing pants." She said, reaching down to brush her hand along her leg, happily noting Mr Darcy's gaze lingering.

"Well then, you can hardly complain of the cold."

Suggestively she replied "Actually, I'm feeling a lot hotter now."

Perhaps Robert had missed her flirtatious comment. Perhaps he hadn't.

Perhaps he loved loved loved her.

Perhaps it was time to get Johanna out of the way.

It was easy enough to plan Johanna's expulsion. Relatively easy to stage. A drug scam, on school grounds. All Abby had to do was plant a few grams of Amphetemines in Johanna's bag and alert the school. Saying Johanna had offered to share it around for a price. Then say that she was scared that Johanna would hurt her if she found out that it was Abigail who turned her in. So she remained anonomous.

Clever clever clever.

Johanna had protested, but the evidence was there. The school closed its doors to her.

Robert surely wouldn't want a drug addict for a mistress, would he?

Somehow Robert Darcy just knew that Johanna was innocent. He didn't say anything, but just held her, sobbing, in his arms.

But it made it so much harder for them to see eachother. Robert decided that the only solution was to leave his wife. He loved Johanna, to him she was perfect. The happiness that he had attained with his other partners was nothing when compared to the pure bliss that he experienced with Johanna. It was worth a lifetime of suffering and persecution to spend a few minutes in her arms. He would pay the price, any ultimate sacrifice, to be able to protect her from the evils of the world forever. He loved her, and he had finally realised that just because the public school's system could not accept the fact that he was in love with a seventeen year old woman, he was. He could not help her age just as Johanna was helpless to make herself older. Their love overcame the shallow boundaries that were forced upon them by the ridiculous standards of the society that they lived in. They didn't deny where the rules lay, they just refused to accept them.So why should he be afraid to tell his wfe that he was in love with someone else, regardless of who she happened to be?

So one chilly July night, he told her.

Abigail screamed and plunged her fist into the wall, barely registering the pain of the impact. Her heart hurt so much worse.

She needed him needed him needed him.

She had seen the way he looked at her, he must want her. Johanna was just holding him back, preventing him from being with her, that was it.

Her reasoning was that of an insane person, a young woman crazed by jealousy, obsession and lust.

She'd kill Johanna for keeping them apart.

She really would.