I apologize this update took a little longer than I intended it to. In truth, I had a little bit of difficulty conveying what I wanted to in this chapter. I will most likely come back to it in the future to play around with it a little more, however, I wanted to give you all at least this little something to add to what I've put up already. I have stronger ideas for my next chapters, just a matter of connecting the dots. I thank you for your constructive criticisms and helpful reviews!
There was no time wasted the next morning; Mr. Darcy rose early to breakfast alone, bade a brief good morning to his sister and guests when they all descended from their slumbers, and with his horse readily prepared on the drive, he was en route to Lambton before nine o'clock. He had doubt in his mind, for he could not allow himself to be ignorant of the inevitability that Elizabeth did not love him – no, he did not expect her love, but he hoped above all else that she at least thought better of him, that somehow he had shown himself to be a true gentleman in her eyes. Her's was the only opinion he held above all others. It pained him to go on in the world knowing that Miss Elizabeth Bennet still thought ill of him. The only person he had ever felt any true attachment to, and he had done her the most injustice – he was determined to tell her how absolutely right she was and foremost, apologize for being everything but a gentleman. Should he renew his addresses, he was most likely to be refused yet again... but what if she did not turn him away? As vivid as the image of her rejection was the image of her acceptance, smiling as she formed the word 'yes' upon her lips. He would not hesitate to then gather her to him, enclose her in his cradling arms, kiss her hair, then finally with great tenderness, he would kiss her full, flushed lips. The thought was too bittersweet; there was no promise of what kind of response he would receive, but he knew he had to tell her once and for all – he could not live with himself if he did not.
He came upon the inn, handing his horse to the waiting footman, and went in directly, asking after Miss Elizabeth Bennet. No words could do justice the pain of the knot tied tightly in his chest as he followed behind a servant, how dry he suddenly felt his throat and the increased pounding of his heart only added to his discomfort. He dared to believe he had the slightest bit of a chance she thought well of him, perhaps even well enough to consider him-
"Excuse me, Miss," the servant announced them as they entered the sitting room, interrupting his thoughts. Darcy bowed before he looked up to see his dearest, loveliest Elizabeth – cheeks furiously flushed, lips pursed shut, and tears beginning to pool in her eyes.
"Forgive me, sir," she began after the servant had disappeared, "I must find my aunt and uncle on business that cannot be delayed!" She started to move for the door.
"Good God; what is the matter?" Darcy could not help himself exclaiming as he took one long stride toward her – she was in absolute distress. "I would not wish to delay you a moment, but let the servant go and fetch them-" he hesitated before adding, "or let me go."
"No, I must see to them-" she began to cry more, determined to move past him. Darcy took her arm and prevented her passage to the door.
"Please, I absolutely insist!" He led her to sit in a large chair by the window and allowed her a moment before asking, "In which direction did your aunt and uncle walk, Miss Bennet?"
"The church," she breathed her reply. He left her side only a moment to see to the servant fetching Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and then he was urgently back by her side, pulling another chair close to her as he placed his hat on the end table and took both her hands in his.
"You are not well; may I not call a doctor?" he asked, struggling to keep his overwhelming emotion out of his tone.
"No, thank you, sir," Elizabeth sniffled a smiling reply, giving his hands a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "I am well."
"Is there not anything I can do for your present relief? A glass of wine; could I get you one?"
"No, sir, truly I am well, I am well." She took the handkerchief he offered her after reluctantly releasing her hands. "I have only been distressed by some terrible news I have just received." He watched her as she bravely composed herself, his gaze intense and, he thought surely, displayed his distress in seeing her thus. It was one of the most heartbreaking things he had ever witnessed; Elizabeth's squared little shoulders trembling as she breathed deeply to prevent more tears. She would not yet meet his gaze as she whispered, "Please, do forgive me."
"Oh, no, Miss Bennet..." he assured her, trailing off, undecided how to continue. He remained silent. After another deep breath, she lifted her chin and matched his gaze with eyes overflowing.
"I've just had a letter from my sister, Jane. Our sister, Lydia, has run away... w-with Mr. Wickham." Darcy let the name ring in his ears, his emotions running wild, but now in brazen hatred. Wickham was, yet again, compromising the lives of innocent people. Wickham, who single-handedly tried to bring shame upon him and everything he held dear, who had mistreated his sister so unforgivably... And now, his habits were repeating themselves, this time succeeding in disappearing with his prey. "She has no money, no connections... I fear she is lost forever."
"But has anything been done to recover her?" The anger in Darcy's tone was not lost as he stood and began an agitated pace.
"They have been traced as far as London, but not beyond. My father has gone in search of them, and I expect my uncle will aid him in his efforts. But what could be done? I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such a man..." she trailed off, her voice weak. "How are they ever to be discovered?" Darcy looked to her then; her head hung and shoulders rounding, he gazed upon her in agony as she wept silently, hardly murmuring a sound. His anger almost completely forgotten for the moment, all he could do was watch. He could hardly bear it – oh, if but he could only hold her just for a moment and calm her with soft hushes and gentle, reassuring caresses. He would reach for her hands, lift a gentle finger to wipe away the tears from her cheek, and calmly as he could, entreat her that all would be well, for he would vow to put it all to right himself to just see her smile once more at him – he would put it all to right himself even if their paths never crossed again. It was too intolerable to think of, never again having the pleasure of being near her, looking into her eyes, touching her skin... but he struggled to repress that dreadful reality as he contemplated what to do next.
He related to her his regret that she would not return to his home that day to call on Georgiana, to which she insisted he apologize to his sister on her account for being unable to see her. With utmost apprehension, he insisted he had stayed too long and that she must desire his absence. Taking a low, lingering bow, he heard her soft voice strain to say, "Goodbye, Mr. Darcy." He straightened to see her curtsy and took one last look into her eyes, hopefully conveying all he wished to express, before turning forcefully and exiting the room.