EDITED JAN 14 TO CHANGE A CONVERSATION

Mr. Darcy descended the stairs to the sitting room, his feet falling into a familiar rhythm. He paused at the entrance to take in the room. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the mahogany tables and chairs, and the walls were lined with oil paintings of landscapes and hunting scenes. Despite its grandeur, the room was empty, as Louisa Hurst and Caroline Bingley rarely rose early in the morning. But usually Bingley was there.

Upon hearing footsteps, Mr. Darcy looked up to see his friend entering the room, conspicuously not dressed for breakfast but rather to leave. With a faint quirk of his eyebrows, Darcy asked, "What is going on?"

Mr. Bingley grimaced and he spoke with difficulty. "Caro is still - most unsettled by your presence, and has expressed a desire to return to London — and Louisa has made the observation that if she were to remain here, in a house with you, her reputation would be compromised."

Just as he finished speaking, there was a flurry of activity from upstairs and the sound of footsteps rapidly descending the staircase. Mr. Darcy could feel the tension in the air and avoided looking at Caroline as she passed the doorway.

He sighed and angrily turned around to look out the window, noting that it had grown overcast and foreboding. When he finally turned back around, he spoke with a determined tone. "I will be married in a few days!" knowing this should resolve the issue with Caroline once and for all.

Mr. Bingley grimaced in response.

"I need to go to London for a special license. If you wait for me after I talk to Mr Bennet, I can ride with you."

Mr. Bingley shifted uncomfortably before reluctantly admitting, "Caro wants to leave immediately."

"After I call on Mr. Bennet is immediately. We can depart right after. Before luncheon if you'd like."

"Uh, well Caro wants - that is we plan to leave soon. Very soon."

Mr. Bingley looked up in surprise as a servant entered and said, "Sir, the luggage is secured and the coaches are ready. You wished to be informed immediately."

"Yes, very good."

Mr. Darcy had been completely taken aback, as he stared at his friend with incredulity.

Mr. Bingley's face contorted with embarrassment and he finally choked out an awkward, "I - need to leave now."

Mr. Darcy, bewildered by the entire situation, merely said in response, "I will be leaving shortly after you."

With a look of deep confusion, Mr. Darcy watched as his friend hastily departed, leaving him feeling increasingly frustrated and angry with each passing moment. He marched towards the dining room, expecting to find breakfast ready as usual. Yet, when he arrived, he was dismayed to find nothing prepared.

Ringing the bell in the dining room impatiently, he called out for the servant who had come to answer. "Where is breakfast?"

Despite his query, the servant merely stammered before leaving to find someone else, further agitating Mr. Darcy. What was happening here?

The housekeeper said apologetically, "We were told everyone was leaving and so we only prepared food for those who were leaving on the journey."

Mr. Darcy looked incredulous. "I'm not leaving. I'm not riding with them. I am leaving for London but it will be tomorrow."

The housekeeper nodded in understanding and left to get his meal ready. With a sigh, Mr. Darcy thought to himself, could this day get any worse?

Mr. Darcy had arrived at Longbourn after a rushed breakfast of unappetizing poached eggs and dry toast. As he looked around, the house was strangely silent. No voices called from the main floor, not even in the sitting room that was always so lively with conversation. Could the Bennets have gone to London as well? He thought with a small smirk – perhaps they were following his friends' example by picking up and leaving town in an instant.

But any humor felt at that notion quickly died away as he walked into Mr. Bennet's study, wondering if the man was keeping his daughters upstairs so they wouldn't be compromised or ravished by this 'dangerous' stranger. His brows furrowed further at the thought as Mr. Bennet requested he sit to discuss marriage contract terms.

Elizabeth paused as she carefully folded her letter to Charlotte, her fingers trembling slightly. She had been writing it for some time, trying to express her embarrassment and confusion over what had befallen her family. Sealing the envelope with wax, Elizabeth rose from the chair and made her way out of the bedroom.

Stepping into the hallway, she was met by Mary who had just exited her own chamber. Spying the envelope in her sister's hand, Mary asked, "Do you need to put that out to the mail?"

"It is a note for Charlotte actually," Elizabeth answered, her voice quavering slightly. She wished that she could have called on Charlotte herself without needing to send a letter — though alas she was confined to Longbourn property.

A smile tugged at the corner of Mary's lips as she offered to take the letter to her friend. "Oh I can take it to her," she said cheerfully.

Mary arrived at Lucas Lodge with her best bonnet perched atop her head, and a sense of excitement radiating through her. She quickly curled her bangs around her fingers hoping the curls did not fall flat before her visit concluded.

"Good day," Mary greeted the servant. "I am here to call on my cousin, Mr. Collins."

"I'm sorry, madam," he said apologetically. "But Mr. Collins is not available."

Mary grew discomfited and said, "But you haven't even gone to check if he is in fact not available. I am his cousin."

The servant simply repeated his response, "Mr. Collins is not available".

Frowning, Mary shifted her gaze to the horizon for a moment before rectifying her plans. "Well then, I suppose I shall call upon Charlotte."

The servant looked momentarily discomfited before shaking his head slowly. "Charlotte's not available either," he said apologetically.

Now thoroughly disconcerted, Mary questioned, "Can I not see either one of them?"

Once more, the servant replied in the negative. "They are not available."

Defeated, Mary handed over the note from Elizabeth intended for Charlotte before turning around and beginning her walk home, her thoughts jumbled and confused. What was she going to do now? How was she going to get Mr. Collins to talk to her and see that she would be the perfect wife for him if she couldn't even see him?

Whilst mulling these questions over, she failed to pay attention to where she was walking and, as a result, tripped and fell, landing face-down in a puddle of muddy rainwater from the day before.

Just as her humiliation threatened to consume her entirely, Mary heard snickering coming from inside the house. Turning around, she two servants peeking out of the windows, barely managing to contain their amusement at her expense.

Berating herself internally, Mary somehow managed to compose herself, straightened her bonnet, and left the premises without another word.

Mr. Darcy heaved a heavy sigh as he strode into the Bennet sitting room, his features a mask of irritation. All his attempts to bring order to the chaos of the day had been fruitless and now he wished to at least say a proper greeting to the woman he was forced to marry.

He needed to depart for London posthaste, after greeting his betrothed - and yet, he could not find her anywhere. "Where is Miss Elizabeth," he asked Hill, the servant.

"Out for a walk, sir," she said, curtsying.

He frowned, disappointment weighing heavy on his countenance. But before he could turn away, a flurry of footsteps sounded from the stairs. Lydia Bennet ran down, her face alight with enthusiasm. "I can show you where Lizzy walks. She goes on that path all the time!" she exclaimed.

Mrs. Bennet's voice instantaneously followed from the upper floor, shrill and scolding. "What are you doing? You know you cannot show him where the path is. There's no one to accompany you."

Mr. Darcy raised an eyebrow in disdain at the display of bad manners.

Lydia glowered at the ceiling, her frustration plain to see. "Mr. Darcy is engaged to Lizzy!"

"Well, they aren't married yet, are they?" Mrs. Bennet's voice filtered down causing Lydia to huff.

Hill cleared her throat. "I can accompany you, ma'am," she said.

Kitty rushed down the stairs and piped up, "I can go with you."

Mrs. Bennet, her voice becoming softer as she moved away from the staircase upstairs. "No one listens to me or has regard for my poor nerves! What does it matter if the girls' reputations are ruined, even further? This is all Mary's fault! If she had not tricked Lizzy—"

But Mr. Darcy had heard enough. He spun on his heel and went out the front door, leaving Mrs. Bennet's words to hang in the air.

"No, this way!" Lydia called after him and Mr. Darcy begrudgingly followed the two youngest Bennet girls down a cow path through the woods as they chattered and giggled.

He knew he had no choice but to pretend to be oblivious to the words which he heard Lydia spout, but it was hard to ignore her words about Elizabeth.

"I never thought Mary would get married first! If I'd known it was Elizabeth who wanted Mr. Darcy, she might have acted sooner."

They rounded the corner and there, hidden beneath a large oak tree, was Elizabeth. Her brown curls were swept up in an artful style, and the soft breeze gently blew several loose tendrils around her face. She wore a yellow muslin dress, decorated with pink ribbon, and her cheeks were flushed with a rosy glow. Her lips curled in a slight smile as she watched a family of rabbits running around in the grass.

"Lizzy!" Lydia squealed, and both Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth jumped at the sound. "Mr. Darcy's here!"

Elizabeth, startled by the surprise, spun around. Before her stood a pained-looking Mr. Darcy, whose eyes softened as he beheld Elizabeth's laughter and smile. She covered her mouth to stifle her amusement at his expense, though she could not contain the twinkle in her eyes.

The gleam of joy that shone in her eyes captivated Mr. Darcy, dispelling his original judgement of her. He was entranced by her beauty and could not deny the admiration he felt for her fine eyes. Her countenance beamed with such happiness that it was impossible to ignore its allure.

As Lydia and Kitty departed to pursue their own endeavors, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth found themselves alone and somewhat at a loss for conversation.

Mr. Darcy, his face grimly set, announced that he must away to London with all haste, to procure a special license. "I shall return on the morrow."

Elizabeth stared at Mr. Darcy incredulously. "You refuse to answer me?" she said, her voice tight with indignation, "Do you truly think nothing of our upcoming nuptials, that you won't even answer me when I ask about my friend?"

Mr. Darcy looked taken aback by her boldness, but he soon recovered, his expression becoming stern once more. "These are matters of a personal and private nature. I must take my leave for London at once."

Elizabeth stared at him incredulously, rage flashing in her eyes. He knew she was still angry at him for his earlier behavior, but he could not afford to leave on such terms. He had to make her understand. "Miss Elizabeth, I understand you are upset," he began, his voice firm but gentle, "but I must ask that you listen to me. Mr. Wickham is not a good man. Do not trust him. He has done things that I cannot speak of."

Elizabeth crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "If Mr. Wickham really did something so reprehensible, why didn't you tell me? If his actions are as bad as you claim, why are you not more forthcoming about them?"

Mr. Darcy gritted his teeth in frustration. She was still continuing their argument from the day before, and he had no time for this. With an effort, he kept his temper in check and replied, "Please, I must away for London at once, and I do not want to depart with us in such a state."

She looked away, her mouth forming a thin line. "Very well, Mr. Darcy. You may go, but do remember that I am still not convinced of Mr. Wickham's supposed wrongdoing."

He nodded, his jaw set. "Good day, Miss Elizabeth," he said, his voice sharpened with frustration.

Without another word, he spun on his heel and left, not stopping until he was out of sight.

Elizabeth stormed back to Longbourn and ruefully stepped up to the entrance as her sisters, Lydia and Kitty, were doubled over in laughter, undoubtedly due to some mischievous deed or other. She heaved a sigh, at the commotion she heard coming from inside the house.

"Out! Out! What could you have been thinking, to bring the mud inside?" The front door opened, Mrs. Bennet's arms flailing wildly about.

Mary scampered outside, and Elizabeth gasped at the sight of her sister's muddy dress, face, and hands.

"I can't change out here," Mary said meekly.

Lydia barely contained her laughter as she offered an explanation. "Mary fell in the mud at Lucas Lodge!"

Mrs. Bennet pointed to a spot beside the house. "Behind the hedgerows! No one will be able to see you there."

Mrs. Phillips arrived having walked from Meryton, with a look of despair on her face that could not be concealed. She hastened towards the house, exclaiming, "Oh my word, I have news! I have news! Oh, Mary, what did you do?"

Mary replied almost sheepishly, "Well, I went to Lucas Lodge and...I tripped, and I...fell in the mud." Her face was red with shame as she finished, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mrs. Phillips shook her head in dismay. "Well, you had better hurry up and get changed then," she said.

"Will you wait for me? I will be changed soon!" Mary asked hopefully.

Mrs. Phillips cast a stern glance in Mary's direction, her lips pressed together in disapproval. "No," she said, her tone laced with an air of finality. "This is all because of your own actions, Mary."

Mary hung her head in shame as Mrs. Phillips shook her head and entered Longbourn. "Oh sister, oh sister, you would not believe what I saw this morning! Two carriages laden down with luggage. The residents of Netherfield have all left."

Mrs. Bennet's hopes of a successful match for Jane seemed to crumble in front of her eyes and she cried out "What? Mr. Darcy was just here, called upon Mr. Bennet this morning and did not say a word!"

Mrs. Phillip sighed. "Oh sister, I do worry for dear Lizzy, but I am afraid that you have been deceived and he will not come back."

Elizabeth had followed her aunt into the house, her mind filled with disbelief. She had thought of Mr. Darcy as an honorable man, and not withstanding her current feelings towards him, she refused to accept that he would not do as he said. "He would not do that. He is traveling to London to get a special license for us to get wed."

Mrs. Bennet, desperate for a glimmer of hope, asked "Are you sure that the carriages were from Netherfield?"

Her sister nodded solemnly. "Sally, daughter of the butcher, was a downstairs maid at Netherfield and confirmed it."

The sound of Mrs. Bennet's wails of despair resonated throughout the room.

"I am sure that they're coming back. Mr. Darcy will certainly return," said Jane, her voice full of optimism.

At that moment, Hill bustled into the sitting room, handing a note to Jane. "This came, just now, from Netherfield, Ma'am."

"Thank you." Jane muttered as she opened it.

But before she could even read it, Mrs. Bennet snatched it away, gasping as she read the contents. "It says they have left Netherfield and they're not coming back," she wailed.

Elizabeth collapsed into a chair, her mind reeling from the unexpected turn of events.

Jane caught the note as it fell out of Mrs. Bennet's hand. She read it, her voice laden with disappointment and discouragement. "It is from Caroline Bingley. "She writes that the whole party will have left Netherfield by now for London, and without any intention of coming back again."

Elizabeth sat in stunned silence, her mind whirling at the implications of what she had just heard. This made her aunt's proclamation more certain, that Mr. Darcy would not be coming back either. What had happened at the ball had been too public to be hidden. She would have to marry someone, and soon, in order to save her reputation, and that of her family. Such a thought was nearly too much to bear.

But what else could she do? She could not be a governess, and she had no one to stay with to find a position. Perhaps Mr. Wickham would marry her to save her reputation. She could not believe he had done anything heinous such as Mr. Darcy implied. Mr. Wickham was always the perfect gentleman.

Just then, Mary stepped into the room, having changed from her outdoor attire. "What was the news? What did I miss?" she asked.

Mrs. Bennet burst into tears.