Gentle reader,

Behold, the promised longer chapter! It may seem like we've reached the end of our story, but we still have a ways to go!

Love,

RobinDesBois

As soon as the younger man had arrived at the house, Mr. Darcy unceremoniously led him into the study, outfitted him with a gun and sword, and explained the situation to him.

"Wait, Mr. Wickham and this other man—"

"Mr. Creedance."

"—they're planning to sneak into the house through a secret underground entrance—"

"Medieval emergency exit, actually."

"—so they can abduct Miss Eli—"

"Mrs. Darcy."

"Sorry. Habits, old man. So they can abduct Mrs. Darcy and do other unknown crimes against you, possibly attempting to kill you."

"Yes."

"And the sheriff isn't here because?"

"Several reasons. I do not want the attempted abduction of my wife published throughout the neighborhood, let alone any further. I do not wish to give the general public an idea of my weak spot, both in regards to the secret entrance to my house, and when it comes to the safety of my wife. Additionally, I don't want any more men like George Wickham getting ideas regarding Georgiana and attempting to use the escape tunnel to force her into a situation that would result in her feeling compelled to marry the aforementioned cad. Along with all of this, if I still need a reason to exclude untrusted outside parties, I am singularly responsible for the safety of every person in this house, which includes my wife and sister, as I mentioned, but presently also includes my staff, Mr. and Mrs. Collins, Mrs. Wickham, yourself, and Mrs. Bingley, as you may recall. I want to keep this information as restricted as possible."

"Well, Darcy, never let it be said that you can't make a solid argument. Are you certain that you and I alone can fight these two men and succeed?"

"Charles, you've never seen Mr. Wickham fight. I assure you, the soldier's uniform and the sword are only for show. And you forget, I was able to knock out Creedance when I was deep into a bottle of whiskey and he saw it coming."

"You did what?" shouted Bingley, deeply shocked at this new side of his friend

"That's right, you weren't here for that. Well, you get the point."

"Oh, no. You don't get out of that one. What exactly happened with that man?"

"Listen. Bingley. I have a reputation in this country. People see me as…confident. Unshakable. And that's how I want them to see me. No one can know that I was…jealous, that I got so drunk that I hit a man for finding my wife…attractive. I have to be strong, I have to be in control. That's who I am. That's what it is to be a Darcy. And I need you to keep it that way."

"Very well, I'll agree to keep your secret, but I have to know this whole story someday."

"Fine. But not today. The sun is going down, we have to get in position to protect the house."

The two men left the study and hurried down towards the bottom of the house. They stopped at the servant's dining quarters, which were directly off the kitchen, to ensure Lizzy had the pistol and for Darcy to make one last failed attempt to convince her to get farther away.

They quietly proceeded through the kitchen to the cellar, knowing that they could be there for minutes or hours, and the moment the men entered they had to be ready.

It was just past midnight when they heard muffled voices arguing below. Bingley couldn't help but roll his eyes at the lack of focus of the two intruders, but Darcy pulled back the hammer on his gun and clenched his jaw.

They heard the creek of an old trap door, and the groans of the two men as they pulled themselves up a stair and through the small hole. When they heard the crash of jars being knocked off their shelves, Darcy raised his pistol and pointed it towards the door.

The door whipped open to reveal two angry, drunk men with cobwebs in their hair and swords in their hands. Seeing the gun in Mr. Darcy's hand pointed straight at his temple, Mr. Creedence dropped his sword and backed against the wall. Mr. Wickham simply raised his sword and pointed at Mr. Darcy's throat.

"You picked the wrong victim, Darcy. Of course, you never were good at making important decisions. Creed only wants Miss Elizabeth, he has no interest in you. I, on the other hand, came here to see you; to return all those favors you've so kindly bestowed on me all these years. Perhaps you recall denying me the promised living, refusing me your dear sister's hand, convincing Miss Elizabeth you were the victim, and of course compelling me to marry that useless bitch Lydia—"

BANG!

"Aaaah!" Wickham screamed as he fell to the ground, blood spilling from his left knee.

"Lizzy, you were supposed to stay in the dining room!" Darcy turned to see his wife framed by the doorway.

"Did you really think I would stay?"

BANG!

Lizzy and Darcy turned to see Mr. Creedance collapse on the ground with a knife clutched in his hand, Mr. Bingley standing over him, slightly shaken, having knocked the villain with the butt of his pistol.

"He…he was going to…he was behind you, he had a knife!"

"Charles, I can't thank you enough. Please, be so kind as to tie them both up, we'll tell the sheriff they're a burglars. That won't damage our reputation any."

"Agreed, Darce," Mr. Bingley was shaking, but he pulled off his cravat to tie Mr. Creedance.

"Elizabeth, we can talk later about your refusal to stay in one place so I can keep you safe. Right now, I have to know why a perfect shot like yourself went for the knee when we could have been rid of him forever."

Mr. Bingley interjected, "Erm, so sorry to interrupt, but might I borrow your cravat, Darcy? I only have the one, and there are two of them, you see." Darcy pulled off his cravat and handed it off without looking away from his wife.

"William, it's not my place to decide who lives and who dies. I didn't want to hurt anyone in the first place!"

"Then why did you come here?"

"To make sure you were safe. I was listening outside the door, and then…and then…" Lizzy's eyes welled with tears. Mr. Bingley focused a little harder on securing the knots on Mr. Wickham than was really necessary.

"Darling, what is it?" Darcy walked up to Elizabeth and cupped her face in his hands, wiping a tear from her cheek. "What made you come through the door? I only want to protect you."

"William, no one is allowed to talk about my sister like that. Lydia may be silly, she may be impulsive, she may be a little uncouth at times, but she is my sister. No one talks like that about my sister. No one." Darcy pulled his sweet, protective, pregnant wife to his chest and let her cry.