It was late at night when Darcy finally got home. He hoped Elizabeth would be there to greet him, but he knew she must already be in bed, most likely reading. He handed the servant his coat and proceeded up the steps to their bedroom. He walked by Lydia's room where he heard her talking with William. He paused at the door. It's a shame she is already married, he thought. William is a great man and a good friend. Darcy then proceeded to Wickham's room. He listened for any sign of presence, but the room was dead quiet. And upon opening the door, he found the room deserted. It appeared that Wickham was never in the room. Perhaps I got the wrong one, Darcy thought. But, no, here are his belongings. The situation seemed highly suspicious. Wickham could not possibly be with Lydia at the moment, and not in the kitchen… he couldn't hear anyone on the first floor… which means that Elizabeth's room was the only other possible place.

"The Devil!" he said to himself and rushed off to their bedroom. When he got there, he found the door slightly ajar and from within heard moans and groans. His first thought was that Wickham was killing Elizabeth, perhaps from jealousy, but when he threw open the door in rage, he found an appallingly different scene. Darcy stopped dead in his track, the horror of it all sinking his heart. Wickham was full well on top of Elizabeth, both stripped of their attires. His heart wept at Lizzy's betrayal and his mind raged at Wickham and his dirty plots. His eyes refused to see what they saw. Finally, rage overtook his system and he stormed toward the bed.

Elizabeth saw him coming in, saw his expression, his disbelief, and it pained her, but there was nothing she could do now. It was all too late. Tears welled in her eyes and her heart shrank. A wide grin spread on Wickham's face directed at her, and then he leaned over and gave her a deep kiss. But all Elizabeth could feel now was the deep loathing. She pushed him, but he was off of her before she applied any force. Instead of Wickham, there stood Darcy, his face contorted with mixed emotions. In a moment, Wickham was forgotten on the floor.

Darcy bored into Elizabeth's eyes, trying to find any trace of betrayal, but all he found was fear, embarrassment, and apology. Then, she abruptly turned away and began to weep. Darcy covered her with blankets and turned on Wickham. Wickham only grinned wider.

"Want to duel for her?" he said. Darcy didn't reply. He figured if he killed Wickham now… but no, he wasn't the killing type. Damn the man! Damn him ten thousand times!!

"Get out." Darcy hissed.

"Coward." Wickham replied.

"Get out!"

"Once a man, twice a coward."

The door opened and William stepped in. In his hand there was a revolver, ready to be used if necessary. Wickham stared down the barrel, his grin erased from his face.

"William, don't." Darcy warned. The revolver lowered and fell to the floor with a clatter. Wickham stared at it, considering perhaps for going for it. But one look from Darcy set him in place and he did not move.

Quiet sobs filled the room. Darcy looked for the source of them and found Elizabeth buried in her blankets, tears staining the covers. His heart suddenly filled with sadness and love for her. Grabbing Wickham by his arm, he dragged the man out of the room and into the hallway where he called one of the servants.

"Dress him and make sure he is out of this house before the next hour." he ordered. The servant obeyed. He watched Wickham being led away until his eyes fell on the frightened face of Lydia. She was pale and her eyes were fixed on Wickham, swimming in her own tears. What madness is this!? thought Darcy. He went back into the bedroom to see how Elizabeth was faring. William was beside her already, comforting her. He pulled a robe out of the closet and put it around her shoulders. She was trembling.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered. "I didn't mean for this to happen. He just-" her voice broke off as tears flooded her eyes and her throat. Darcy only put his arms tightly around her.

"I still love you, you know. What happened was not your fault. Wickham is a dirty man, always has been, always will be." he gently kissed her on her head and motioned for William to leave them alone. William nodded and quit the room.

Elizabeth shuddered. Just the memory of what had just occurred between herself and Wickham made her heart shrivel. She clung to Darcy's shirt, afraid to let go.

"Please…forgive me…I'm sorry."

"I love you, Elizabeth, and that will never change." He held her close until he felt her drift into sleep. But even then he did not let go. He lowered her gently unto the bed and lay beside her until he himself fell victim to slumber.