Wow. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, to everyone who has Favorited, Commented and Followed since the last posting. You guys have been so encouraging, wonderful, and patient and I wouldn't get nearly the joy out of all this without you.

It's gotten to the point where it would take too long to thank all you individually. So let me do one big large blessing for everyone who has been so supportive so far.

May your heart be as clear as a mountaintop sky,

so you won't miss your love, when they come,

should you even try.

It's a long chapter! Enjoy.

Chapter 10

She put a hand to her mouth. It was all becoming increasingly clear. The exhaustion, the nausea, the protective feelings regarding Georgiana… How would she tell Darcy?

She smiled, surprising herself with a sudden thrill of exhilaration. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face. He was so accustomed to controlling his expressions, his mood. At the same time, she knew that he wanted this above anything. She knew this because he had told her. She knew this because so did she.

It was pitch dark out. Where was her husband anyway? He was supposed to have returned tonight, but the nausea had awoken her to an empty bed. Well…That's not entirely true is it?… she thought, placing a hand on stomach. She hadn't been the only one there.

She walked back towards their room, her mind a dozen places at once, when she heard the jostling of armor. Soon, guards came rushing around the corner.

"Mrs. Darcy!" the head one said, a middle aged man with a face full of panic. "There has been an intruder!"

She was stunned.

She soon Realized that her mouth was agape, assumedly with an expression to match. The guards were all staring at her anxiously.

They need you to be Mrs. Darcy right now. They need you to be the lady of the house.

She closed her mouth, and looking the guard in the eye and spoke clearly. "Has anyone been harmed?"

"We do not know Mrs. Darcy. A few guards on patrol heard screaming on the other side of the house."

That could only be Anne.

She had yet to discover what series of events had brought her now cousin-in-law to their home, but mere hours after she arrives there is an intruder?

The two must be related.

"I sent two units to investigate the screaming. One was sent to protect you and one for Ms. Georgiana. The other units are probably sweeping the house for the intruder as we speak." The head guard said.

At that moment, another unit of six guards came marching down the hall, stopping right in front of where Elizabeth stood, standing at attention.

"Excuse me, gentleman." An exasperated little voice said.

Two of the guards split, and Georgiana emerged from their protective huddle.

"Can you please explain," she said, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Why I awoke to the sight of six armed men hovering over me?"

A few guards shuffled their feet, a few others suddenly found the paintings on the walls captivating, looking away from the young woman standing, without a care, in her nightgown.

Georgiana had grown so much since Elizabeth had first met her, when she still thought of herself as a silly girl tricked by the offerings of love from Mr. Wickham. She is hardly the first woman to be blinded by the promise of love. Elizabeth thought. Still, Georgiana's growth was not completely comprised of her current state of mind. She had too physically changed, as shown by the discomfort of the guards around her.

The girlish lines of her body had given way to womanly curves, which were more highlighted than usual in the nightgown she now wore. Her hair had been let down for the night, a waterfall of thick blonde hair cascading down her back. Combined with the countenance that showed the passion and intelligence of a young woman of considerable worth, she was poised to be the adoration of many young men who would be interested in more than her dowry.

Elizabeth would have been amused by their discomfort but for the peril that endangered them all.

"There seems to be an intruder." Elizabeth informed Georgiana, turning her head towards the hallway. " The guards heard screaming coming from the direction of Anne's room."

Georgiana gasped. "We must go to their aide!" Taking several hurried steps in that direction, before Elizabeth unwittingly laid a hand on her arm. Georgiana turned around, eyeing Elizabeth with surprise and confusion. Elizabeth could understand why.

Had it been yesterday morning when these events took place, Elizabeth would have probably sprinted down the hallway, thinking only of Anne and her maid and giving little thought to her own welfare, and Georgiana had grown to know her zeal quite well.

But this was different.

It would be putting Georgiana in danger, it would also endanger… her hand reflexively went to her stomach. Realizing her error immediately, she moved her hand quickly to her other arm, crossing them both as if she had intended to do this all along.

Georgiana's frown only deepened, her expression growing inquisitive. She stepped towards Elizabeth, placing a concerned hand on her forearm.

"Elizabeth… what-"

Her hand reflexively tightened around Elizabeth's arm- Elizabeth catching her- both supporting each other as their legs gave way to a sudden shaking of the floor.

OoOoO

The tremors subsided before anyone could make for cover. The air was thick with confusion, except for the leader of the guards who had first spoke to Elizabeth. He was staring at the floor with an alarming recognition. His eyes found Elizabeth's. The look giving her insides a stabbing twist.

"That was no tremor of the ground Mrs. Darcy." He said, ordering the men to surround the Darcy women. "I was in the Army most of my life." He continued when they were finally surrounded. "That was the shake of an explosive."

An explosive? What sort of thief would bring explosives?

At that moment, a third group of guards came hustling around the corner, the man at their front came over to greet the leader of the guards.

Breaking the huddle, the lead guard barked at the new comer. "Report man! What has come about?"

"We don't know sir!" the guard said, looking to the women. "We were on our way down stairs when Mr. Darcy sent us in search of Mrs. Darcy."

Mr. Darcy is home? Where? Not…

"And where did you see Mr. Darcy last?!" Elizabeth demanded, stepping towards the man. The guards face went blanch.

"He and the Colonel were headed downstairs last I saw him Ms. Darcy."

This time she couldn't stop herself. Elizabeth picked up her nightgown, turned, and ran down the hallway. Her guards, stunned, took a moment to respond before curtailing after her.

"Take the other guards to Anne." She yelled over her shoulder at Georgiana, who was looking ready to run after her. "She may still be in danger. I'll send word about Mr. Darcy as soon as possible, and for God's sake be safe!" Georgiana obviously hated the order. Her brother could be injured, or worse, and she had was being told to run in the other direction. Elizabeth was about to turn the corner, and she could see disobedience clear on Georgie's face. But at the last second… it passed, and she in turn spun around in the other direction at a run before Elizabeth lost sight.

OoOoO

There were pieces of limestone everywhere. Shredded and scorched pieces of canvass littered the room, laying on the splinters of what used to be furniture. He could barely breath, and as he craned his neck up to look around he realized why.

Fitzwilliam was lying almost completely across him, his deadweight flattening his chest. If they had been the hands on a clock, Darcy's head would've been pointing towards twelve as Fitzwilliam's would've been pointing towards two.

Being able to do nothing but look around, that's what he did, craning his neck as far as he could see. The destroyed limestone made a sort of smoggy dust that hung in the air obscuring anything more than ten feet away. He wiggled his left arm, and his right. They both seemed to be working.

Then he looked down.

His brain seemed to have a hard time comprehending what he was seeing for a moment, then the truth hit him making his stomach turn.

From where he was lying, it looked like he had two right legs and a left. Then he realized that the second right leg, of course, wasn't his. It was Fitzwilliam's. It just looked like his because it had been twisted almost completely around.

He wanted to lift up Fitz, but he couldn't move. He wanted to check his pulse. But he couldn't move. He thought he could maybe wiggle free, but he couldn't be sure he could do so without further injuring Fitz.

If he was still alive.

He felt helpless, and then he felt angry. He thought of the man who had done this, and the man he knew was responsible. But still, he couldn't move. He yelled.

"Guards!"

They must have been coming for him already for they were there in quick order. They went to move Fitz, and despite his eagerness to rise, he stopped them.

"No! He needs a stretcher. Do not transfer him until you have one."

"But we don't have any stretchers Mr-"

"Then find a cot, or a mattress, or tear down a drape and have two men carry him around but don't you dare roll him off to get to me!" he thundered.

The men, now looking properly abashed, stalked off in search of something to use. Darcy could hear the other men starting to clear away some rubble around where the Portrait of Darcy's great uncle used to hang and where the secret entrance to Pemberley was. Still not being able to move and see what the men were doing he called one over to give him details.

"Sir, it has collapsed! Not just the pieces of the wall but the tunnel itself."

Darcy's jaw clenched. It could take weeks to clear it all out and there would be no chance of catching the intruder now. Even if he sent guards on horseback.

In a few minutes the other guards returned with what looked like a thick table cloth. Four of them gently lifted Fitzwilliam off of Darcy, before lowering him down on the Cloth that Four other men supported. They turned Fitz on his back, the leg that Darcy had momentarily mistaken for his own was now pointing towards the ground. The guards winced at the sight of it as two more came to help Darcy to his feet.

He felt as if he had been flattened by a boulder, but he was able to stand up on his own power none the less, dusting off his jacket and looking to the guard nearest him.

"Send our swiftest rider to fetch the doctor, have the Colonel taken to the nearest bedroom and for heaven sake someone bring him some brandy for when he awakens, then-"

"Mr. Darcy!"

He turned around to see Elizabeth running hurrying towards him, stepping over the rubble a little clumsily. She looked down at Fitzwilliam.

"He seems to be breathing- "Darcy began, but Elizabeth was paying attention to Fitzwilliam at the moment. She had ensnared Darcy in a tight embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist. After a moment of surprise, Darcy's arms fell around her. "My dear?"

Her embrace was the tightest he imagined she could make, for she squeezed herself against him like if she didn't he might float away. His expression changed from that of man-in-battle to that of man-in-love and he returned to embrace fervently.

"I am safe my love." he said so only she could hear. "We are safe." He raised one hand to the back of her neck, rocking his wife ever so slightly.

They stayed that way for a minute, her embrace loosening slowly and ever so slightly. "I promised Georgiana I would send word once I knew you were safe." She said into his shoulder.

He instructed a guard to do so, continuing to hold her.

"Darcy," she said eventually, leaning back to look at him "what is happening?"

Darcy shook his head. "I do not know, not with any certainty. I didn't even know Anne was here until I heard screaming."

"It is still a puzzle to me as well, though I can't help but imagine that tonight's events evolve Anne in some way. Her arrival and the intruders seem too much a coincidence."

"I agree."

"And Fitzwilliam, have you had any explanation from him as of yet?"

"No." Darcy said, looking crestfallen at the thought of his cousin. "I was never able to broach the subject."

Elizabeth frowned, but didn't push the explanation.

"Are you well?" Darcy said, looking down at her. She'd been rubbing her stomach, and had frozen in place at his noticing. "Elizabeth?"

She seemed to consider her words briefly

"I am well, Mr. Darcy." She said finally, simply, kissing him on the cheek and taking his hand. "Let us see to Fitzwilliam."

The answer and her contemplation didn't seem to match, but Mr. Darcy's attention quickly returned to his injured cousin and the matter soon slipped from mind.

OoOoO

I'm shaking… but I don't feel cold. Then why am I shaking? Warmth... there is warmth on my face... Why?

She saw a face. The face of a man, though he wasn't looking at her. He was looking to the left, speaking. His head then snapping back to the right, eyes alert, tense, waiting. He spoke again, the lips were moving yet there was no sound.

Am I deaf?

She felt pressure on her face, along her jaw and just under her lips. It was firm, but not uncomfortable, and quite warm. She looked down, it was his hand and… blood. Lots of blood. Then Anne came into sight, looking down at her and trying to hide the fear in her eyes with a smile. Lilith smiled in return, but the man whose face still took up most of her sight seemed to be saying something, adjusting his hand on her face. Shaking his head. Then, she finally heard his voice.

"Don't smile." He said sharply, "You'll bleed more." His voice not so much deep as it was gravelly.

"What has happened?"

"Intruder." The man said distractedly, looking towards the hallway. He, she now noticed, was covered in red. Not blood, but a uniform. Why is a soldier here?

"Are the bandages ready?" he said urgently to Anne.

"Yes."

He nodded. "Set them down here beside me. I can fasten them, but will need you to cover the wound."

"She shouldn't- "Lilith began to protest her lady doing anything so below her station.

"Hush now," Anne said, kneeling beside her. "I would go much further, and you are opening the wound every time that you speak."

They switched, Anne placing her much colder hands against Lilith's face while the man reached for the bandages. He took out a knife, making smaller cuts here and there on several pieces, talking while he did so. "Now," he said, "This cut isn't as deep or broad, but it is in a peculiar spot along your jaw, it will be hard to tie these bandages in place. So please…", he now reached towards her with one of the strips, "remain still."

It took a few minutes of tying and retying, but in the end she had several strips running horizontally under her lip and around her neck, and vertically under her chin and over the top of her head.

"How does it feel?" the man asked.

"Tht." She mumbled through tight lips.

"I'm sorry." He said sympathetically. "The discomfort is necessary to cease the bleeding."

Her hands reached up to where the cut ran, her questioning eyes finding Anne's.

Lilith didn't consider herself a vain woman by any means. she'd never been one to stare into mirrors for prolonged minutes, who had she ever had to look good for anyway? But yet, she had always been content with the way she looked, which she knew enough to know was more than most could say. But the sudden realization that from this point on she would have a scar running across her face…

Anne seemed to know her thoughts. "It wasn't as grisly as you might imagine my dear, just a little line across the jaw, probably won't be noticeable at all."

She turned to the Redcoat, her brain taking this most inopportune moment to notice the handsomeness of the face. He simply smiled at her, acknowledging Anne's words with a nod. It was a good attempt to console her on their part, but it would be no use until she saw the cut herself.

The redcoat had extended her a hand and she accepted, standing up in a way that wasn't nearly as gracious as her brain had told her it would be. But he didn't seem to notice, for when she had fully reached her feet, his hand lingered on hers, his dark eyes looking into hers with an unnerving sense of sincerity. Looking at him full on for the first time, the light of the candle illuminating a reddish-gold hair that spilled in waves over his ears, she had the distinct impression of coming face to face with a lion.

"Thank you." He said, his voice a little less rough. "He would have killed me, I dare say, without your intervention."

She wanted to say that she would've died if he had not come along first! But she had momentarily forgotten that her mouth was quite literally tied shut. So all the came out was. " Thnsdh adheh mmm."

She looked to Anne, who was looking a little too entertained by the situation, for help. But Anne just shrugged. "I cannot interpret your mumbles my dear, we shall have to find a different- "

At that moment the ground started to shake.

OoOoO

The next several hours were spent with the household staff running this way and that. Elizabeth saw to the tunnel being cleared and the massive hole being covered. The job in full would take months to complete, but for now they would have to make do covering the hole with wooden boards. A dozen servants had brought in wood, tools, and set up several benches to cut the pieces that were needed. The sound of sawing and nailing could be heard down the hall as Elizabeth oversaw the progress.

Mr. Darcy spent this time writing many hasty letters, sending for a doctor to see to Fitzwilliam and Anne's servant, writing to a stone mason to see to the hole in the wall, and several to government officials. He sent each out with a man on horse, and when he was finally done the sun had already come up and it was nearing breakfast.

Walking down to the dining hall, he was running over each of the letters in his mind, trying to think of something he may have forgotten.

To the household staffs credit, the morning meal didn't seem to have suffered despite the night's activity. When the Doctor had arrived, he had given Fitzwilliam something to ease his pain, making him quickly fall asleep and in not state to eat breakfast at the moment, whereas Anne's servant was unable to eat due to her bandages, which the doctor had looked at and decided had been applied perfectly well.

Everyone else was at the dining table, as well as the two added guests…

Elizabeth had forgotten amidst all the activity that morning that they were arriving, and as she sat at the breakfast table she subtly turned her head to the side, away from the two, and rubbed the temples of her forehead. This would have been trying on most mornings, but on this one… it was simply unfair.

"My dear man -what a travesty! I am angered, I am distraught, I am at a complete and utter loss of myself!" Mr. Collins pontificated as he rose from his chair, speaking to Mr. Darcy as he entered the room. He made not move to walk over to Mr. Darcy however, it was as though he had stood in order to gain the audiences complete consideration.

Elizabeth did her best not to sigh, or roll her eyes, or stab herself in the leg with a fork. Besides, she was sitting right next to Charlotte, and despite how Mr. Collins was, Charlotte was her oldest friend.

Mr. Darcy, to his credit, kept his composure. "Thank you, Mr. Collins." he said wearily, sitting himself down at the head of the table. Mr. Collins remained standing, apparently expecting a more thorough response from Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy, however, was being served some bread and gave no indication of showing Mr. Collins any further attention.

Mr. Collins now stood awkwardly, all eyes but Mr. Darcy's on him.

"Mr. Dear" Charlotte said, coming to his rescue, "would you like some cream?"

"Eh? Cream? Oh, right, yes my dear, indeed. "Mr. Collins said, sitting himself down.

It was then that Mr. Collins seemed to notice Anne sitting on the other side of the table. His brow furrowing while Anne's eyes made no move to leave her plate.

If Mr. Collins planned to try and take Anne back to Lady Catherine, he would be sorely disappointed, and Elizabeth tried not to think of all the unladylike words she would be tempted to say if that situation arose. No, she did not yet know why Anne had come to them, Mr. Darcy had decided that it would be best if they all had a much needed meal first. After breakfast, they would finally gather in the drawing room to discuss it all: What had happened with Fitzwilliam and how he had escaped, what had brought Anne and her servant to them so suddenly, who Mr. Darcy and Fitzwilliam thought had told the intruder of the secret entry way, everything.

But the meal seemed to stretch on forever, Mr. Collin's had started up on his favorite subject again, Rosing's. This time discussing the trials of finding limestone in the 16th century, and how the architect had succeeded, claiming the man had taken it off the Pyramids themselves. Though bored, Elizabeth asked as many insightful questions as he could think of, anything to keep him off the subject of last night, and Anne. Mercifully, the meal finally came to an end as everyone rose from their seats and made their way to the drawing room.

OoOoO

The conversation was going to be much more difficult to have.

Mr. Collins unfortunate arrival caused a problem. How could they sufficiently speak of Anne, the events of last night, and her flight from Rosing's with Mr. Collins, who would surely report all that was said back to Lady Catherine, in the room?

Elizabeth did everything she could think of to dispatch him from the group. She offered to have someone show him the library and the lake, or to go horseback riding, or to visit some of the local religious sites. He guffawed at her attempts. "And leave our party? Cousin Elizabeth, surely you must see how rude that would be. Besides, once you have seen Rosing's, all other places", he then looked around the drawing room with dissatisfaction, "just seem lacking." He shook his head, turning back to Charlotte to discuss the differences between the bannisters at Rosing's and the bannisters at Pemberley.

Only Mr. Collins could cite propriety then slight the home in which he was a guest in the very same sentence. A home that had come to mean so much to Elizabeth. She felt hot with anger, wanting to defend her home to the silly man but knowing she must not. She bared her knuckles behind her back and kept her tongue. Mr. Collins eventually ended his conversation with Charlotte and got up with a furrowed brow to inspect a few of the portraits the lined the room.

Elizabeth went with her second plan, getting up and sitting next to Charlotte. Charlotte was well aware of how Mr. Collins was seen by society, even realistic about it. By her own admittance, she had entered the marriage out of necessity, and when Mr. Collins became too… well, Mr. Collins, she did a good job of anchoring him home. Elizabeth hoped this would be one of those times.

Elizabeth and Charlotte had discussed their home lives, projects they were working on and a little gossip, all while avoiding the topic of the last night's intruder. Finally, she turned to the subject she which to approach. Her and Charlotte had been best of friends for many years, which gave Elizabeth good insight to her disposition. Charlotte was honest and blunt, but never rude. As such, Elizabeth decided to address the issue as such:

"I am sorry that we were not better prepared to host you my dear, we were quite honestly, distracted."

"It is, of course, understandable." Charlotte replied, looking around to make sure no one was listening in.

"Do you have any idea who sent the intruder?"

Elizabeth had reached that point in the conversation, and was honest.

"Mr. Darcy has a lead, but we have yet to discuss it, we were planning on discussing it after breakfast."

Understanding reached Charlottes eyes. "I see." She said, her eyes moving to her husband, who was not so subtly staring at the chest of a statue of a Roman goddess. "and you require a little more… privacy?"

Elizabeth's shoulders, which had been quite tense up to that point, relaxed. " Yes. Though Mr. Collins seems intent on staying with the party."

"Well, luckily the rooms were made quite large here at Pemberley." Charlotte smiled, patting Elizabeth's hand. "I will take care of my husband, you will have to have your conversations in low tones, but I think I can entertain him long enough."

Elizabeth took Charlottes hand in her own. "Thank you." She said, simply and sincerely.

Charlotte nodded, rising to walk across the room and join her husband, whose eyes quickly turned, looking anywhere but the statue and her smiling knowingly at him.

At that moment, one of the doors of the room started to open rather slowly. A second later the head of Fitzwilliam could be seen, then his shoulders, and finally his legs. The physician had done a fine job by all accounts, of wrenching his leg back into position. Even with the medicine they had given him to dull the pain, it must have been extremely painful.

His stooped low, as his back had apparently reinjured in the explosion, making it very difficult for him to walk upright, or at all, and given all the medicine they had given him to make him sleep, she had no idea how he was up and about.

Slowly, and with great help from a crutch, he hopped into the room. Everyone seemed to be stunned, except for Anne, who offered him her seat closest the door.

He declined with a shake of the head, instead moving to the couch nearest to were Mr. Darcy now sat.

"I told you to wake me when it was time." he said to Darcy in a low voice, sitting down with a thump.

Darcy looked at him with great worry, but said nothing, instead turning his attention to Elizabeth who after her conversation with Charlotte had sat down to his left.

And so they all now sat, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy on a couch in the middle, Anne and her servant on a couch to the right, and Fitzwilliam on the couch to the left. Holmes had stood and come around to Fitzwilliam's left shoulder, whispering something into his ear to the shake of Fitzwilliam's head. Instead of reseating himself, he stood as if at attention at his commander's side.

Elizabeth looked past Mr. Darcy to were Charlotte and Mr. Collins now stood, flipping through a book of some kind.

"I have asked Charlotte to occupy his mind. We shall be fine if we but keep our voices low." She whispered to Mr. Darcy.

Darcy just smiled and shook his head, as if at a private joke. Then turned to the group. "Are we all settled?"

The women said they were. The redcoats nodded in unison.

"Very well." Darcy said, rising from his seat to address the group. "We have much to discuss." He looked over at a servant who was standing at the door that Fitzwilliam had left open. The man shut it immediately, and they could hear his footsteps echoing down the hall as he walked away, giving them complete privacy.

"There are a total of four events that have brought us all together today. Firstly, my looking into my father's history and the subsequent approach of a government agent that it led to." Anne and Lilith expressions of surprise confirmed they had heard nothing of this yet.

"The second, is the spy that was in Colonel Fitzwilliam's camp and his attempts at sabotage. The third, is Anne and her servants flight from Lady Catherine's and what led to it, and lastly… the intruder who attempted to kill them last night."

The tension hung heavy across the room.

"We will cover all of these tonight, but before we broach them each in turn, we must know a little history." He exhaled. This seemed to be the moment he had been building to, and it was his next words surprised everybody.

"Mr. Collins," He said across the room. "We are in need of a history lesson."

"Fantastic!" Mr. Collins, said. Tossing his book aside, and scurrying across the room to stand next to Mr. Darcy.

"What do you wish? The splitting of the Orthodox church? The first Christian mission to Japan? Oh! The history of Rosings?!"

"The History of Rosings please." Mr. Darcy said.

Mr. Collins scanned the room, looking at each person individually.

"Are you sure Mr. Darcy?" he asked tentatively.

"I am." Mr. Darcy said, taking a seat.

Mr. Collins looked to Charlotte, some understanding seemed to pass between them. "Very well."

This struck Elizabeth as quite odd for Mr. Collins, who would usually talk all day about Rosings, whether you liked it or not, and then in the next moment…everything that Elizabeth had ever known about Mr. Collins changed.

His posture seemed to immediately change. Shoulders that were always back, and rigid, relaxed. Legs that were usually stiff and clumsy bowed into a more natural position. He ran his hand across his usually greasy hair, which seemed to remove much of the substance, leaving it looking fuller and more natural, and finally, the stodgy face that was usually so full of judgement and smugness lost all its condescension.

"What I am to share with you today cannot leave this room." He said, his voice seemed an octave lower, and his pronunciations lacking the usual self-indulgent ring he usual tried to bestow them with. "I share it out of trust for Mr. Darcy's approval of all of your characters, and necessity for the short amount of time we have." He cleared his throat politely.

"I am the government agent of whom Mr. Darcy has told you some of you about, and I have been investigating Lady Catherine De Burgh for years."

All eyes were on him, and several mouths hung agape

Fitzwilliam was the first to recover. "What does your investigation have to do with Darcy's father, or the spy in my camp, or Anne, or the intruder, or any of it?!"

"We shall all soon see, but if I am right Colonel. It has everything to do with it."

OoOoO

Phew!

Next chapter will be a big one I don't think I have to say. I'll get to work on it! Really excited for the next chapter's reveals.

Oh, side note, I haven't had any beta testers for this whole story but could use a few. Send me a message if you're interested!