Darcy was at the point of entering the carriage when he saw Wickham surrounded, once again, by numerous ladies. Though there was one that he was holding particularly close. In fact, so close that the hand that seemed to be around her waist was really upon her behind. He frowned in disgust. It was plain to see that he did not care for his wife, not a wit.

"Sir? Your carriage, sir."

Darcy turned at the sound of the voice and saw his coachman looking at him.

"Yes, of course. Please excuse me, I got distracted." He glanced at Wickham who apparently did not see him yet. The coachman saw the disapproving glance.

Aye, sir, there are many people who have been giving that young man those disapproving looks. What a disagreeable man indeed." Then, lowering his voice, he added "I hear he has a wife who he uses only as a possession and a not a human being." He chuckled. But Darcy only looked at him.

"It is none of your business to poke your long nose into others' affairs." He said, but not coldly and not as a warning. It was just a simple statement, for Darcy also knew of the current state of things between Lydia and Wickham, and they were not pleasant. He only wished that things would improve.

Darcy looked back at Wickham, but the man was gone. He stepped into the carriage and sat himself next to Samuel, his servant and his good friend. Elizabeth would be pleased with the new dress he got her, he was sure of it. His lips curved in an easy smile.

"Pardon for asking sir, but, what makes you smile?" Samuel asked in his always-curious voice.

"Oh, things." replied Darcy. Samuel nodded to himself, satisfied.

The journey home wasn't long but it was painful. They really ought to fix the roads, Darcy thought. He always preferred going on horseback, but today he needed a carriage to carry all his newly bought possessions. He would go riding later, maybe Elizabeth will come along.

Three days later

Lydia woke up to the soft purring at her ear. Her hand reached out to see what it was and came in contact with lots of soft fur. For a moment she just lay there, petting the animal next to her head, and then suddenly, everything came flooding back. She sat up so suddenly that she knocked over the vase that was standing close to the bed and surprised the cat that was lying comfortable next to her head. It issued an unpleasant hiss. The door flew open and a lady rushed in.

Lydia stared at her for a long moment.

"Oh, thank the heavens you're alive!" she said in a pleasantly high voice. "We feared you had died."

Lydia looked quizzically at the lady, "Died?"

The lady nodded.

"It must have been three days since we brought you here. And you have made no sign of being alive whatsoever since then."

Lydia stared. Three days! It seemed an only hour since she had lost consciousness and now this lady was saying it has been three days!

"Wh...what happened?" she asked.

"Oh, never you worry. Now that you have wakened you shall have something to eat." She looked down at the broken vase. "And don't worry about that" she added pointing to the broken pieces, "I shall get Emma to clean it up." With that, the lady smiled at her and left the room.

Lydia sat silently in bed, trying to think. But the more she thought, the more her head hurt. She groaned and fell back on the bed. To have been out for so long! Lots must have happened during these days. Lots including the... including Lizzy's ball! She must have already had it, and she, Lydia, missed it! She couldn't believe it.

She got up, but found out too soon that her knees were too weak to support her weight. Lydia sat back down on the bed and buried her face in her hands, tears clogging up her throat. She didn't know what to do now that her mother was dead, all she could do was go back home, if home indeed it is. She tried to get up more slowly this time and succeeded. When she was ready to walk over to the door, it opened and the lady came in with a tray full of food. Lydia eyed it, her stomach telling her that it would not accept anything at the moment.

"Please, Mrs. -"

"Mrs. Dower." The lady supplied.

"Please, Mrs. Dower, be so kind as to lend me a pen, some ink and some paper. I wish to write a letter to my sister."

"Oh, oh...why, of course. If you have a relative I am sure they would want to know that you are alright. Are you married? Should I write to your husband?"

A look of panic crossed Lydia's face. "No!" she blurted out. "No, please, I would just like to write a letter to my sister. Thank you."

Mrs. Dower nodded, put the tray on the small table beside the bed and left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

What was she to do now? Of course Lizzy and Jane would want to know of their mother's death. But she was not worried of them; it was Kitty that troubled her mind. Poor dear sister. Mrs. Dower came back with some paper, quill and inks and put them beside the bed.

"If you need anything else, please feel free to ask my son who will be here while my husband and I are gone. He is an agreeable man and would be glad to help. Rest well, and I do hope things will turn for the better." And with that, Mrs. Dower was gone. Lydia sighed and took the paper and the quill.

My dearest Lizzy,

How hard it is for me to break the news. I wish I were dead. I am dreadfully sorry for missing your Ball, but my circumstances forced me to. Dear Lizzy, our mother had passed away. I do not know what else to say for I am in great shock and grief. My heart fills with sorrow and tears just thinking of it. Oh, Lizzy, if only you knew of my struggles.

Lydia paused as a tear escaped her eye and rolled gently down the slope of her cheek. Her hand quickly wiped it off. She truly did not know what else to say so she took the letter, folded it, and addressed it. It remained on the table where she put it for the rest of the day.

At around three in the afternoon, a gentleman walked into the room with a tray of biscuits and tea on it. Lydia looked at him curiously. He must be Mrs. Dower's son, she reasoned. She looked into his face and saw pure beauty in it. He was as handsome as a woman wish a man to be. His eyes were a rare shade of hazel, his hair a mix of ten different shades of brown and tan, his complexion perfect.

"'Morning, Miss." he said lightly as his mouth curved in a perfect smile. "I trust you are well?" Lydia nodded, hypnotized by the man. He was even more handsome than Wickham ever was or will be. A small sigh of lust escaped her throat as the butterflies filled her stomach when he smiled at her again. He looked around the room.

"Rather dark in here, don't you agree?" he asked. Lydia nodded. "We'll have to open those curtains, and perhaps the windows as well to let some fresh air in." he did as he said and all with such grace Lydia thought she was in the presence of an Angel in person.

"Thank you, sir." she managed to say. "I much appreciate your help."

He laughed, his laugh sounding like thousands of bells ringing out a hymn. "You can just call me William or Will. Makes no difference." Lydia smiled and nodded.

"Thank you, William." She could feel her cheeks come aflame, and could just imagine how foolish she must look to such a gentleman. Lydia scolded herself. She was a married woman and it will do her good not to be mooning over any other man than her husband. But at the thought of Wickham, her heart sank into the sea of pain within her chest and tears welled up in her eyes. One escaped and fell on her folded arms.

"Miss, is everything alright?" she heard Will ask. Lydia looked up at him, her vision blurred by restrained tears. Such an agreeable man! She tried to smile, but that only broke the barrier and now her tears poured freely out, like a river from a broken dam. She sobbed and tried to bring herself under control, but that only intensified the tears. She rather felt than seen him sit next to her, felt his arms wrap around her tightly, and heard his gentle voice in her ear telling her that everything will be alright, that he's here to help; he will help no matter what.

"For you are a beautiful young lady and should not have to bear such pains, whatever they might be." he whispered in her ear. Lydia sobbed even harder. Without knowing, she curled herself in his arms, her body pressed against his firm chest.

William sat on the bed, the poor creature in his arms. She felt warm and...strangely good pressed against him. He leaned down and pressed his lips against the top of her head. Her hair was incredibly soft and he kissed it again. He didn't know her, and yet somehow, he was becoming more and more attracted to her. He then realized that she was now quiet. He pried her hands from his shirt and looked at her. She was asleep. Good, he thought, let her rest, she needs it. He gently laid her down on the bed, looked at her one last time, and then left.