Chapter Two: Nearly miraculous

Only thirty seconds into Lizzie's new video, Darcy set his phone on the table before him and clenched his hands together tightly. The video's title, "An Understanding," and length—over eight minutes, the longest she'd ever posted—were promising, but Lizzie appeared exhausted, miserable, defeated. She had admitted at Pemberley her tendency to portray others from her "limited perspective," and now she spoke shakily of "acknowledging that people do not fit into neat little boxes all wrapped and tied up in string." She was in a crisis of self-doubt, questioning whether she saw herself or others aright, reminding him forcefully and painfully of the questions he had asked himself during those awful weeks after she rejected him.

Then Lydia entered, and as much as his heart yearned toward Lizzie, he found himself watching her sister more. The same thing had happened the week before. Something within him had shifted as he saw Lydia learn the brutal truth about the man she loved and trusted, and he'd suddenly recognized her as an uncertain and vulnerable young woman, not unlike Gigi had been.

The Lydia sitting before the camera now seemed drained of energy, a bitter irony that did not escape him. Once her sister affirmed her willingness to listen, everything bottled up within suddenly burst forth. Darcy felt furious and physically ill as he recognized Wickham's pattern of charming a woman into ignoring her better judgment, convincing her that her only worth lay in her relationship with him, taking what he wanted, and then abandoning her to face the devastation of exposure and betrayal. Lydia blamed herself again and again, resisting Lizzie's attempts to reason with her, until finally she broke down and accepted her sister's embrace.

Unlikely as it seemed given what he'd seen in previous videos, Lydia had somehow been drawn to Lizzie for understanding and comfort. This hindered his own desires, of course, for Lizzie would certainly not welcome his call now, not when her attention was rightly absorbed by her sister. Despite that, the image of the two women embracing brought him tremendous relief. Lydia had voluntarily ended her isolation, and she had a loving sister who would assure her as many times as necessary that she didn't deserve what Wickham had done to her. And Lizzie…he knew all too well the feelings that had torn her apart at the beginning of her video and the relief she surely felt now in knowing she could help her sister.

Together, he hoped they could begin to heal, and with that hope came an easing of the worst of the strain he had felt during the last week and a half. His sense of urgency was only heightened, though, for there was no knowing how much of the progress from today's video would be undone if he failed to stop the tape's release.

Unfortunately, failure now seemed probable. He'd received a call earlier from the men investigating Novelty Xposures, and later in the morning he was scheduled to listen in on a conference call with several others who had attempted to investigate the company in the past, on behalf of other families. Apparently Novelty Xposures frequently purchased tapes without one party's consent and was adept at avoiding investigation. The conference call was worth a try, but it seemed unlikely that this would help them locate the company's owners.

The only person who had definite access to the company was Wickham, but finding him was proving impossible. He and his investigators had contacted dozens of Wickham's former friends and associates and had succeeded only in obtaining a phone number that might be his.

Now Gigi had the number. He had ordered and pleaded with her to let him bear the burden of finding Wickham, but she possessed a stubbornness nearly equal to his. First she had revisited memories of the getaway location they had used. Then she had gone one step further, using herself as bait to trap him. Darcy had nearly bitten Fitz's ear off for giving her Wickham's number and had been only slightly mollified when Fitz told him of her promise to text only and not actually call.

She wanted to help, for his and Lizzie's sakes, and he loved her all the more for it. He knew too that she identified with Lydia; the similarities now apparent to him were surprising and alarming. Lizzie's video today reminded him what Gigi risked by involving herself in the hunt for Wickham. Not that he was in any danger of forgetting the days when she had refused to look anyone, even Fitz, in the face, or the nights he had spent propped up against the wall outside her door with his head in his hands, listening to her sobs, tormenting himself with every "what-if" he could think of, dreading outcomes too terrible to name.

Gigi was only now regaining the joy and liveliness that had once been innate to her, and she had recently broken down when telling her story to Lizzie's viewers. She was more vulnerable than she knew, and he would not be able to live with himself if he failed to protect her again.

%%%

The conference call garnered them a few additional leads but nothing definitely promising, and Darcy's shoulders slumped uncharacteristically as he hung up. He saw then that notification had come of a new Domino user. Gigi must have called someone new on the demo. The number listed was familiar, and a moment's reflection sent him scrolling through his contacts. It would be just like Gigi to call Lizzie to offer her friend encouragement and a listening ear, and in so doing alert her to the existence of the demo videos. Fortunately, the number wasn't Lizzie's, and he was about to move on when its significance suddenly registered.

It was George Wickham's number.

Darcy's gaze grew intent as the implications rushed through his mind. Wickham had downloaded Domino, dropping squarely into Darcy's lap the information he so urgently needed but couldn't otherwise legally obtain. Gigi had accomplished what he and an entire team of investigators couldn't, but at what cost to herself? Only three weeks ago, Bing's casual mention of her swimming pool had shaken her badly enough that she'd left the room, and now…now she had spoken to Wickham face to face.

Darcy grabbed his briefcase and strode down the hallway toward his car as he dialed Gigi's number. Seconds elapsed, long enough for anxiety to take hold. What had Wickham said to her? He wanted to return immediately to San Francisco, to see her and know for certain whether she would be all right, but he couldn't, not with so little time remaining before the tape's release. If she didn't answer, or if she appeared distressed, he would have to call Fitz and ask for his help again. Finally, she answered.

"Gigi, what did you do?" Fear harshened his voice, and he regretted it immediately, for she sounded nearly frantic as she begged him to not be angry with her. For all that she sometimes pestered him, egged on by Fitz, and made free to shove him into rooms and discuss his nervous mannerisms with Lizzie, she suddenly seemed to fear his disapproval as much as he feared her vulnerability and still-fragile sense of self-worth. Her pleading tone stopped him in his tracks, and he spoke then as he should have at first, more gently, assuring her that his greatest concern was for the encounter's effect on her.

"I'm sorry. I know you warned me, but I had to try. I thought it would help." His words did much to calm her, and he had been without hope too recently himself not to recognize and pity the keen discouragement in her voice at not being able to help.

"It did…he downloaded Domino." He didn't spell out the implications for her but rather watched with affectionate pride as she worked them out for herself, her lingering uncertainty quickly lost in wonder and disbelief that she had provided the breakthrough they so desperately needed. He ended the call soon afterward and began a flurry of calls to Pemberley's technical experts, to retrieve the newly available information about Wickham, and to his investigators and lawyers, preparing for the confrontation and negotiations to come. Much had yet to be done before the crisis would truly be ended, but he was energized now and ready to face it.

At last, he had hope.

%%%

Darcy sat on the edge of the bed and toweled his hair dry, feeling refreshed and relieved and yet acutely alone. It was done. Novelty Xposures now belonged to him, and every last copy of Lydia's tape had been destroyed or permanently erased. The rest of the company's inventory would be destroyed too, for he had no way of knowing which tapes might also have been acquired illegally. In any case, he had no intention of owning a company of that nature, so it would soon be converted to distribute Pemberley Digital's video content.

Wickham was tied up in legal knots so tightly it would be suicidal for him to ever bother the Darcys or Bennets again. There was nothing Darcy could do—or at least nothing he could legally do—to ensure he couldn't prey on other families, but the popularity of Lizzie and Lydia's vlogs among young women meant his next intended victim might already know what he was, or have friends who would warn her.

It was done. Darcy ordered room service and dedicated the next few hours to his backlog of emails from the last two weeks. It occurred to him at some point that his correspondents might think him pathetic for replying to work-related emails the evening of Valentine's Day, but he merely quirked an eyebrow and continued.

At last, he readied himself for bed. Before turning out the light, he reached for his phone and rewatched the video Lizzie had posted that morning. Lydia had interrupted it with the news that the website was down. Lizzie had beamed and hugged her sister and thanked the unknown but "wonderful" person who had helped them. Her words had echoed sweetly in his mind throughout the day, warming him even though he knew he didn't deserve her enthusiasm. Lydia had appeared more composed in the video than he would have believed possible given the circumstances, and it seemed nearly miraculous that a second Bennet sister might possess the strength to rally and forge something of value from heartache that was indirectly his fault.

He slept then, and in his dream he steadied his nerves and went once again to Lizzie's office. For once, she was not seated on her stool with the camera rolling. Instead, she stood at the window that looked out on the pool and topiary. She was lost in thought and didn't respond to his knock, but when he spoke her name she turned with a smile of welcome and delight and beckoned him to her. He stood close by her, savoring that smile, his own gaze alive with his love for her. She touched his arm then, and it was a moment before he recovered enough to realize she was trying to direct his attention to the scene outside her window.

Gigi sat at the edge of the pool, her legs dangling in the water, her eyes closed as she tilted her head to soak up the warmth of the sun.