Author's note: Holy cow, I was NOT prepared for how much y'all would hate on Darcy! At least a few of you felt pity for him!

I'm not going to give ANY spoilers about the ending, but I PROMISE there is a HEA for all the good guys. And Darcy really is a good guy.

I had written about half of this next chapter before the reviews started coming in, so I promise I'm not writing in response to y'all's anger against him.

When I wrote his horrible speech, I was really trying to write things that could be taken one of two ways so that she could misunderstand but that in his mind weren't that bad until he saw her reaction to them. I seriously do that ALL the time. Things sound one way in my head, but then they come out of my mouth and someone takes them another way.

So I feel a lot of pity for both Elizabeth's heartbreak, but also empathy for Darcy. He's just a good guy trying so hard to do the right thing, especially based on how he is raised.

I hope this chapter, and then chapter 25 (which is in my head but I hope to actually get down onto the keyboard soon) will help y'all see his side a little better.

Then in chapter 26 we'll get back to Elizabeth's perspective. But no spoilers! :D

And no, I don't usually plan chapters this far ahead, but this whole series of chapters came into my head at once, and I couldn't get all the events to fit into one chapter.

Okay, I'm gonna shut up now so y'all can read what you came here to read lol.

Oh! And someone said something about the timeline being wrong because of Trafalgar. I didn't mean to confuse anyone! So in the Prologue, I mention that Mount Tambora erupted in 1815, and the real year without summer happened in 1816. Then I say "what if it had erupted 11 years earlier?" So in this story, Mount Tambora erupted in 1804, and then this year without summer happened in 1805, an Trafalgar was at the end of 1805. I'm sorry about the confusion on that!

Quick P&P lesson: we actually don't know when P&P was supposed to have taken place. She originally wrote it in 1797 under the title First Impressions, but it was rejected for publication. She rewrote it over the years and renamed it P&P and sold it for publication in 1811. It was finally published in 1813.

Oh, and "badly done indeed" is a nod to Mr. Knightly in Emma when he chastises her for being unkind to poor Mrs. Bates. I love that line in the 1996 version of Emma when Mark Strong says it to Kate Beckinsale.

Okay, NOW I'm done. Enjoy the chapter and I will do my best (with little kids that need attention lol) to get these chapters going.

Chapter 24

Elizabeth held back her tears until she had left her father's bookroom. Brushing past her father, she raced up the stairs and into the bedroom she shared with Jane. She threw herself on her head, buried her face into her pillow, and began to sob.

When Mr. Darcy had kissed her, it was as if the world melted away. He went to speak with her father, and she had spent those minutes in blissful happiness. And then her father came to fetch her, and she was certain he was going to ask for a courtship, or even her hand in marriage!

And she was prepared to say yes.

Then all of her hopes and dreams were crumpled and thrown into her face. She could still his voice, ringing in her ears, spewing hateful words with his ice cold face.

You see, my station in life demands that I marry someone with a specific set of criteria, and I am afraid you and your family's situation do not meet the requirements I must maintain in order to not fall to degradation.

What was so wrong with her connections? Her family? To be sure, she did have uncles in trade, but where they not people with whom Mr. Darcy had conducted business? Her mother may not have been born a gentlewoman, but had she not been gracious and welcoming?

Whatever personal feelings there are cannot outweigh what I owe to my family and my estate. I cannot allow the shades of Pemberley to be disgraced, and I must put the claims of duty and honor above all other considerations.

What was so wrong with her that marrying her would be a disgrace? How could she be the downfall of Pemberley? Was she so truly different than the women of high society in London?

I regret my behavior towards you, and my position is such that I cannot court or marry you. I apologize for giving any other impression.

Regret? It was she who felt regret! How could she have been so utterly and completely fooled? And yet again, what other impression should she had received? Mr. Darcy had introduced his sister to her. They came to visit after her illness. He lifted her into the carriage and even offered to carry her to her bedroom! Then he had kissed her! What other interpretation could she have made?

No, there was no other possible interpretation.

He loved her.

He must love her.

So then why did he reject her so coldly?

Elizabeth continued to sob into her pillow for what felt to be a lifetime. Her devastation was only interrupted when the door opened.

"Please, Jane, just leave me be."

"I am not Jane."

Elizabeth looked up at her father's voice and saw him standing in her doorway, looking at her with tenderness and concern. He crossed the room and sat down next to her. "My dear child," he said tenderly, gathering her into his arms.

"I thought he loved me," she sobbed. "How could I have been so wrong?"

He stroked her hair as she cried in her arms. After several minutes he says, "From what he explained to me, he does love you. He just doesn't love you enough to overcome the obstacles he faces."

She sat back abruptly, a look of betrayal on her face. "You mean how a marriage to me would be a disgrace? That kind of obstacle?"

Mr. Bennet winced. "I heard him say that. He did not explain himself very well to you at all, did he? I assure you, my conversation with him was much clearer."

"He insulted me, Papa. Myself and my connections — everything that makes me who I am. He said those things would bring degradation upon his estate."

"My dear, I think there are a few things you should know about Mr. Darcy's situation…"

Mr. Bennet related his conversation with Mr. Darcy. and concluded by saying, "So you see, my dear Lizzy, it is not you that he objects to. He is choosing to place the security of his tenants and other dependents over his feelings."

Elizabeth mopped at her eyes. "I think that does put a different meaning on his words," she allowed. "The disgrace and degradation refers to Pemberley itself falling into disrepair due to lack of funds."

"That is what I understood as well. You certainly have a way of making the poor man trip all over his words. He expressed himself so poorly, however, and I will not have your happiness be injured in your own home. I have permanently banned him from the house — at least until you tell me otherwise."

She gave him a small smile of gratitude, "Even though I understand his reasons, it doesn't excuse his behavior before today. How could he single me out, pay me his particular attentions, when he knew he would not follow through?"

He sighed. "I believe he was in the middle of being in love with you before he even knew he had begun. By then, it was too late for both of you. He couldn't withdraw without causing heartache."

"He is the best of men, Papa. I don't know if I will ever find someone I esteem half as much." Tears began falling anew on Elizabeth's cheeks.

"I know, my darling. Well, next to being married, a girl does like to be crossed in love now and then. It will give you something to think about during the remaining winter months."

She gave a weak smile at his attempt at a jest and offered one of her own. "Well, compared to how long last year's winter has gone on, that may be for quite some time."

"There's my girl," Mr. Bennet replied in approval, giving her a kiss on the head. "In all seriousness, Lizzy, it may take some time to recover your spirits, but you will rally. You will love again. It's not in your nature to pine away for a young man who wasn't worthy of you."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "At the very least, we have the death of Napoleon to celebrate. Shall we go down and see what else is written in those newspapers of yours?"

Mr. Bennet agreed, and the two went downstairs to join the remainder of the family.

As he rode away from Longbourn with his sister and friend, Darcy cursed himself severely.

You are a complete and utter idiot. You could not have expressed yourself so poorly if you had tried!

The look on Elizabeth's broken face had shattered his heart. He knew he would never love anyone as much as he loved her, and he was forced to leave her behind.

He spent the hour ride back to Netherfield thinking nothing but thoughts of self-recrimination and self-loathing. He fought back tears a few times, but at his sister's inquiring look, he explained it away as the biting wind causing his eyes to water.

Upon arriving at the manor, Darcy strode through the great hall, eager to return to his room where he could process his thoughts. He was interrupted, however, by the butler.

"An express came for you, Mr. Darcy."

I have already given up my heart to my estate, Must I also forgo the grieving process? Force my feelings aside to deal with estate and business matters? No! If I must forsake Elizabeth, then everyone can else can wait until tomorrow. There is nothing I would be able to from here in any case.

Darcy kept his face impassive and merely said, "Thank you. Please have it placed on the desk in the sitting room I share with my sister. I will see to it shortly."

The butler bowed and handed the letter to a passing footman, who took it and walked towards the servants' staircase.

Darcy climbed the main staircase and headed towards his rooms. To his surprise, Miss Bingley was standing outside her door, clutching a letter in her hand and looking pale. Although he couldn't stand her presence, he knew the honorable thing to do as a gentleman was to inquire after her wellbeing.

"Miss Bingley, are you well?"

She jumped, startled at the sounds of his voice. She looked at him with wide, almost frightened eyes. "Y…yes, I am fine, thank you," she stuttered.

Darcy frowned and opened his mouth to inquire further, but she quickly went into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Shrugging, he continued onto his room. Once inside, he poured himself a glass of brandy and tossed it back. He refilled the glass until the image of Elizabeth's broken face drifted away.

Several hours later, Darcy was woken from his drunken slumber b y someone pounding on his door. "Darcy! Get up!"

"What?" he asked groggily, lifting his head from the bed.

The sudden pain from over imbibing caused his stomach to revolt. He barely made it to the chamber pot before casting up his accounts.

"Darcy!" It was Bingley calling out to him.

Dawson came in from the changing room where he slept on a cot — standard practice whenever he was in a residence that housed a single female other than his sister.

"Shall I open the door for you, sir?" the valet asked.

"Yes, please," Darcy rasped, picking up a glass of water to rinse the foul taste from his mouth.

Dawson did as he was asked, and Bingley immediately bounded into the room.

"I need your help. Louisa's time has come."

Darcy blinked in confusion at his friend. "Did I sleep until March?" he asked stupidly.

Bingley stared at his friend, then looked him up and down. "Are those the clothes you were wearing yesterday? Darcy, are you drunk?" he demanded in disbelief.

"I was. Now I am hungover."

"I've never known you to become completely inebriated! What's going on, Darcy?"

Darcy waved a hand and shook his head. "Never mind that. What were you saying about your sister? Is she having the baby now? Isn't it too early?"

Bingley gave his friend a suspicious look but allowed the change of subject. "Yes, Louisa's pains have begun. I've sent a servant for the midwife, but I was wondering if you and Miss Darcy could collect Miss Lucas from her home. I've sent a note, and she has agreed to come right away."

"At this time of night?"

Bingley gave Darcy a strange look. "It's nearly lunchtime, man! How much exactly did you drink?"

Darcy looked at the window and saw there was, indeed, sunlight in place of darkness. "I would be happy to be of assistance, Bingley," he said finally.

"Thank you," Bingley said with relief. "I did not want to send an empty carriage, and Caroline and I are needed here."

"Of course. I shall leave at once."

Bingley was almost to the door, but at that comment he turned and said, "I strongly recommend you sober up, have a bath, and put on clean clothes before your sister sees you."

With that, Bingley swiftly left the room.

Darcy turned towards his valet and said, "Well, I supposed I had best follow orders. I'm not in any fit state to be seen right now, especially by my sister or Miss Lucas."

"Very good, sir."

Dawson was as efficient as ever. In no time at all, Darcy had been bathed, shaven, dressed, and even fed dry toast and tea — his stomach would have rejected anything else.

He knocked on the door separating his rooms from his sister's. "Georgiana, are you ready?"

The door opened, and his sister flung herself in his arms. "Oh, Brother! Isn't it terrible? I heard one of the maids say that there is no way the baby could survive coming this early."

She began to cry on his shoulder. Darcy's eyes met Dawson's helplessly, but the servant's own eyes were suspiciously bright. "All will be well, Georgiana," Darcy soothed, patting her on the back.

"You can't promise that," she said, her voice muffled against his jacket.

"You're right, I can't. All I can promise is that no matter what happens, time will heal us."

Darcy realized his words were meant just as much for him as they were for her.

"Now, dry your eyes, Georgiana. We may not be able to change Mrs. Hurst's fate, but we can do everything in our power to see to her comfort. Right now, that means leaving to fetch Miss Lucas."

Georgiana pulled back out of her brother's arms and straightened her shoulders. "Yes. That's right. Let us go fetch her."

The drive to Lucas Lodge was uneventful. Miss Lucas exited her home almost immediately after the carriage pulled up the drive. On the way back, she kept Georgiana occupied by asking questions about Mrs. Hurst's preferences. As Georgiana had spent so much time with the woman in the preceding weeks, she was able to answer every one of the older woman's questions.

Once they arrived at Netherfield, time seemed to pass slowly. Cries of agony could be heard from the family wing, even from the drawing room. Miss Bingley didn't seem to know what to do. She alternated between pacing the drawing room, her hands over her ears, and sobbing into her handkerchief in the corner.

Darcy longed to escape outside to avoid the anguishing noises that echoed throughout the manor, but the weather had once again turned, and snow was beginning to fall.

As day turned into night, the housekeeper brought an unprompted tray of food to those congregated in the drawing room. Darcy realized with a start that supper had been entirely forgotten.

Georgiana had taken to playing on the small pianoforte in an attempt to cheer the room and muffle the cries, but even she grew fatigued from hours of playing. Miss Lucas did her best to keep conversation flowing. Darcy had tried to join Hurst and Bingley in the study, but the two men had requested privacy during the difficult time.

At long last, in the wee hours of the following morning, the agonizing moans subsided. In their place, a baby began to cry. Everyone let out a long sigh of relief, but their consolation was short-lived.

Bingley came into drawing room, and all eyes turned towards him. He stood there for several moments, his mouth opening and closing. Finally, he spoke.

"It's a boy. He's so small. And Louisa… Louisa… she's gone," he choked out before breaking down into sobs.

"No!"

Miss Bingley shouted before collapsing to the floor, wailing her denial over and over again. Georgiana gasped as tears began to fall down her cheeks. She was quickly embraced by her brother, and she buried her face into his chest.

Miss Lucas approached Miss Bingley and knelt at her side. Placing a gentle hand on the woman's shaking body, she murmured soothing words of comfort. To Darcy's surprise, Miss Bingley reached up and grasped the other woman's hand, clutching it tightly.

Bingley looked around the room helplessly, as if looking to find someone to comfort him. Darcy lifted one hand from around Georgiana and extended it to his friend. Bingley stared at it blankly, then came forward. Darcy used that arm to pull his friend into a hug. Surprised at this unusual display of sentiment from his typically taciturn friend, Bingley stood stiffly for a moment before allowing Darcy to support him next to Georgiana while he cried.

Darcy wasn't sure how long they room stayed in the pose while they expressed their grief. Eventually, however, a maid came in to add more coals to the fire. Her entrance caused everyone to break apart.

"I want to see her," Miss Bingley said to her brother.

Bingley nodded. "Hurst has been with her until now. Perhaps your presence will give him some comfort."

Miss Bingley turned to Miss Lucas, "Will you go with me?"

Taken aback, Miss Lucas looked at Bingley for direction.

"Yes, please do," he said. "The midwife has the babe for now, but you will eventually need to take over his care sometime today. It may be best to be introduced at once."

Miss Lucas agreed. "Is there a wet nurse?"

Bingley looked around the room helplessly again. Darcy spoke up to help his friend by saying, "Yes, Bingley sent a servant for one at the same time he sent the note to you. She should have arrived by now."

"Thank you," Bingley and Miss Lucas said together.

"Here, Caroline, let me take you to our sister," Bingley added.

The room emptied except for the Darcys. Georgiana still had her face buried in Darcy's chest. "I cannot believe she is gone," she whispered. "We had so many plans for things to do after the baby came and the weather warmed."

"You can still do those things with the baby," Darcy assured his sister. "It will be hard with your friend gone, but you can stand in for his mother and tell him all about her as he grows."

Georgiana's face lightened slightly at this idea. "I would like to see her. I wish to say goodbye."

"I will make sure you have a turn sitting with her until the funeral," he replied. "For now, however, I think we should both get some rest. We have been up most of the night, and we will not be able to help our friends if we are to fatigued."

Georgiana nodded, and together, brother and sister climbed the stairs to their rooms, hoping sleep would come swiftly to give them rest from their individual heartbreaks.