Hi! I am back with another chapter. I am trying to write more this summer break because when September comes, it is back to school/work for me and it will be very hectic again. I have some part-scenes written but most of them will get scrapped as new scenarios come to me everyday! I am confusing myself and also getting distracted by a talking horse from another story ;-)

Thank you so much for your continued support. I loved reading your reviews and your insightful answers to my questions. Special mention to these reviewers:

Guest, liysyl, ColleenS, midnitewanderer, Eleoopy, DSLeo, Levenez, PDS1, Deanna27, ChrisM0519, Shelby66, netherfield2000, Lisa, RHALiz, crispill, Pablo M Portillo, Maria Teresa C, srhittson, Jansfamily4

ColleenS and Pablo M Portillo: Yes, Wicky is bold. His tendency is to live in the moment, with little thought to possible consequences and the future. He wishes to marry an heiress and/or gain easy access to funds without working hard for it. He has gotten away with so much in his lifetime and has no sense of accountability.

Now it is time to find out more about the book and the silliest girl in England.

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Soon after arriving at Netherfield, Mr Darcy and the colonel retired to their respective chambers as they knew they would have a very early morning start the next day. Mr Bingley had a quick conversation with the housekeeper to issue some instructions and thereafter also prepared for bed.

Although Mr Darcy had endured a long day, his mind was still very much alert. After changing into his nightclothes, he sat by the fireplace, reflecting on what he knew about Wickham's life.

How did he turn out to become such a dishonourable man?

They had grown up as childhood friends and they shared many happy experiences and carefree adventures when they were young. They had the luxury of enjoying the expanse of the Pemberley estate as their playground. Things had started changing when his father employed a tutor and he started having regular lessons at Pemberley. Being Wickham's godfather, his father had treated Wickham almost like a second son and ensured that he also received a good education. This he had done both in recognition of Wickham Senior's loyal service as his steward and as well as genuine affection for the young Wickham's charming disposition. Unfortunately, the young Wickham had not shown much inclination nor dedication to his studies.

Because his father wished to secure George Wickham's future, he had continued to support the young lad by paying for his studies at Cambridge. Mr Darcy had taken his studies with utmost diligence while Wickham had spent a good portion of his time indulging in his vices and dallying with young ladies. He supposed that he should acknowledge that Wickham had somehow been of assistance to him during their university days. As he did not fraternise with his academic peers, he had been prone to being sneered at or taunted by them. Wickham had often told his friends to pay him no mind and reasoned that he was not worth the trouble. Whether or not Wickham had done this to help protect him or to make him feel excluded, he did not know.

Wickham would have been guaranteed a respectable position if he had accepted the living at Kympton but he had preferred to claim a monetary settlement instead. After Wickham had squandered this money, along with an inheritance from Mr Darcy Senior, his childhood friend had sought him out for further financial assistance but he refused. This had then caused Wickham to find a way to exact revenge by attempting to elope with his then fifteen-year old sister Georgiana, with the help of her companion Mrs Younge. It was fortuitous that he had made a surprise visit to Georgiana and she confessed their plan. His sister had been thoroughly heartbroken when she discovered that Wickham only wanted to gain access to her dowry of thirty thousand pounds.

Was there anything more he could have done to prevent Wickham from becoming a scoundrel?

How different things could have been if Wickham had chosen the right path. For certain, he had been given sufficient opportunities and privileges that could have paved for a stable future for him. Perhaps his Fitzwilliam relations were correct, he should stop blaming himself for another man's decisions.

Sighing, he decided he had better get some sleep and rose from the armchair. He then caught sight of the book that Elizabeth had returned to him. Striding over to the writing bureau where he had placed the book, he held it with one hand and used the other to gently feel its cover. Slowly, he let his fingers glide from the top edge of the cover all the way down. To him, this book provided him some connection with Elizabeth, with her delicate fingers having touched its pages. He absentmindedly flicked through some of the pages and wondered which particular sections or passages she had appreciated the most.

Before long, he noticed something inserted between the pages. He sat down on the chair so he can inspect it better. It was a rectangular strip of thick paper, like parchment, that she may have used as a page marker. He took it out and carefully held it closer to the candlelight. On it were written some words in an even, feminine hand:

Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.

Did she write those words?

Is this her philosophy?

He lovingly traced the words with his index finger and hoped that those words meant she would willing to forgive him for his insulting words at the assembly as well as the arrogant attitude he had displayed towards the local townspeople.

After returning the paper to the same position in the book, he then considered if Elizabeth had in fact finished reading the book. Or had she returned it to him for some other reason? He was aware that she was a voracious reader but he was not sure that she had ample time as she had been unwell.

He resumed turning the pages and came across something else inserted within the book. A flower. A wildflower.

Was this from the bunch of wildflowers I had given her?

Did she intend to press the flower and keep it?

He held the flower to his nose and afterwards twirled it around lightly with his fingers. Again, he put this back in its place and took the book with him to bed, not to read but simply to have it beside him while he slept. His thoughts were filled with memories of his interactions with Elizabeth that day – the walk in the garden, offering his handkerchief to her, her hand on his arm as they walked back to Longbourn, how close they were sat during dinner, the scent of her sweet fragrance, her plea for him to take care, and the way their fingers touched. When he caressed her fourth finger underneath the book, she did not remove it from his touch. How he wished that one day, he would have the honour of placing a ring on that finger. And thus he fell asleep with renewed hope and a hint of a smile on his face.

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"George… George, wake up," Mrs Younge called to Mr Wickham.

"What is it? Is it time?" the officer mumbled groggily.

"No. But I have something to tell you," she said in an urgent voice.

Turning to face her with his eyes barely open, he waited for her to continue.

"Tom, the messenger boy, told me that there were a few men asking about you here in Hatfield."

"Hmm… Colonel Forster must have sent some officers to track me."

"I paid Tom to mislead them by saying a man of your description had been seen asking for conveyance to London. I also gave him money to have another boy confirm this information."

"Ah… good thinking, Sarah. You are so clever, darling. Now join me in bed."

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After some hours of sleep, Lydia woke up in a panic. Without leaving her bed, her eyes quickly scanned the room. It was still dark, with only a small amount of light emanating from the fireplace.

What am I going to do?

She had made a promise to Mr Wickham. She was to get hold of some money, jewellery and that letter and elope with him.

But is he still coming for me?

She looked across to the other bed to vaguely recognise Kitty's figure huddled underneath the bedsheets. Kitty was the sister who was closest to her, and not only by age. They had been sharing a bedroom for years, and with that many stories, secrets, laughs and tears.

Suddenly, she felt a wave of sadness overtake her emotions. If she were to run away with Mr Wickham, that meant leaving everything she had known and loved all her life – her family and their home.

Lydia again looked around the room and tried to make out what she could in the near darkness. She was overly familiar all the details in their bedroom and the placement of all the furniture and their belongings.

Was she prepared to leave everything she held dear to elope with Mr Wickham?

Once we are married, we can always come back here and visit.

She shut her eyes and tried to think clearly. Memories started to enter her mind—

Her papa patiently encouraging her to learn to ride a pony. She had been so scared of it as a little girl.

Her mama sitting with her to teach her needlework, finding patterns that were simple enough for her to practise on.

Jane being the first to her aid whenever she suffered scrapes and cuts, reassuring her that she was a strong and brave girl.

Lizzy keeping her company whenever there were thunderstorms. They would hide under the sheets and Lizzy would make up amusing stories to make her forget her fear.

Mary entreating her to learn to play the piano together and read books to each other.

Kitty showing her how to trim her bonnets and choose colours that match well.

All the sisters playing sardines, hopscotch and other childhood games.

Their noisy family breakfasts, their lively dinners, the parties and events they attended together.

She would always cherish these memories with her family.

Then her thoughts shifted to Mr Wickham.

He was ever so handsome and charismatic.

He was always polite and attentive to her.

Lydia remembered how he frequently smiled at her, playfully winked at her and admiringly stared at her figure. It made her feel special that he had singled her out. How she would love to be married to someone so charming. During their wedding, he would appear very distinguished in his redcoat while she, wearing an elegant dress made solely for the occasion, would receive envious looks from all the other young ladies.

But… what of the announcement her father made during dinner? And the news from Colonel Forster? Could those all be some sort of misunderstanding? Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam claimed they had known Mr Wickham for many years and had evidence of the charges. They could not possibly have all been mistaken.

After some time warring with her own thoughts, she rose from her bed and walked over to her dresser. Taking a deep breath, she opened the drawer and gathered what she had hidden there.

Finally, she had resolved on what she would do.

She knew not whether it was the best thing to do.

She knew not whether it was the wisest decision she had ever made.

I am so sorry, Lizzy…

I have disappointed you, and with this, I am going to let you down even more.

Before she had a chance to change her mind, she hastily left the safety of her bedroom.

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More to be revealed next chapter… more about Darcy and Lydia and...

My question this time:

Which PnP character do you love/hate the most? (from JA's book, not fanfiction)

I am traditional – I love D and E. It is hard to choose between Wicky or Lydia for the most hated. If I only had to pick one, I would go for Elizabeth (love), then Wicky (hate). Okay, not hate, but extremely dislike.

If you are happy to share, I would be very happy to read your answers. There are no right or wrong answers, okay?

Thank you very much and please stay safe! ;-)