Chapter 35

The room was silent, except for Jane's sobs, and everyone was staring at Lizzie, who grasped her phone in her hands, staring at the screen as the words 'Call Ended' flashed up in her face. In the corner of the apartment, at the dining room table, a man sat in front of a laptop computer, typing furiously. There was only one person in the room not looking at Lizzie, and it was him. He stopped typing suddenly and leaned back in his chair, a resigned look on his face.

"I couldn't trace it," he announced, still not looking up from his screen. Those words propelled the room into action again. Will pried Lizzie's phone from her hands and placed it on the coffee table before sitting beside her and pulling her motionless body against his, seeing that Lizzie wouldn't be asking the obvious question here, he took it upon himself to do so.

"What now?" he asked, looking up at Detective Ryan.

"We find him," she answered, not giving any hints to her own opinion. Detective Bridges interrupted them as he re-entered the room. He sat on the coffee table, to be on the same level as the girls and cleared his throat.

"I just spoke to your father," he said quietly, "We told him what had happened. He's requested that you both go home."

Lizzie nodded numbly, and Jane didn't seem to hear him, still blaming herself for what had happened.

"We will obviously be in constant contact with you," he continued, "we're going to do everything we can to find your sister,"

"He wants me," Lizzie croaked.

"No," Darcy cut her off "He isn't going to get you, we'll find another way, the proper way," both the detectives were nodding their agreement, "You need to go home," he said.

"I can't! This is my fault,"

"Stop, Lizzie, it's not your fault. And it's not your fault either Jane," he said seeing Jane look across at them from Charlie's arms, his tone was clipped, "If anything, it's my fault."

"Look, what's important," Detective Ryan interrupted them, "Is that you let us handle this" she was eying the lot of them as if she knew they were all trying to come up with a way to fix this themselves, "This is a police matter, and nothing you do will make it better… or legal. We promise you, we'll do everything we can to find him and get your sister back, but it would really be best if you went home to your parents and dealt with this as a family."

Jane and Charlie stepped down first, both nodding in agreement, while Darcy and Elizabeth kept staring at her. Lizzie broke eye contact first and sighed in defeat.

"Fine," she huffed, Darcy also nodded and the detectives both walked away satisfied, but he had other ideas about what he was going to do. The four of them were silent for a moment, until Lizzie looked up into Will's eyes pleading. He began a whispered conversation to avoid anyone overhearing them.

"Look, someone needs to stay here in the city and make sure they're doing their jobs. Charlie, you should take Lizzie and Jane back home and stay with them until this is all over. I'll stay here and work with the police,"

"You won't come with me?" Lizzie asked. He stroked her cheek with his thumb and shook his head.

"I'm more useful here Lizzie, trust me, I know George's tricks. I can do more here, I can help,"

"Then I'm staying too," she announced,

"No Lizzie, it's not safe, it's you that he wants. He knows that taking you, hurting you, it's the best way to hurt me,"

"Have you ever thought that maybe it works the other way too?" Lizzie cried, suddenly indignant, she shrugged out of his arms and stood up, her hands on her hips, suddenly she was annoyed at him.

Couldn't he see that she didn't want him to leave her? That she was worried for his safety too.

"Lizzie?" Darcy asked, standing up with her and taking her hand in his.

"I'd be crushed if something happened to you Will, it works both ways," she murmured.

"Lizzie… I can't just, not do anything, not when I know I can help,"

"You can keep yourself safe!" she exclaimed

"Look, I'll take you home okay? But I can't stay, I have to come back here, I have to…" he trailed off at the look she was giving him. But his resolve didn't change.

Lizzie stared him down for a long minute, but she wouldn't budge either, and eventually, knowing that he was insisting on doing this for her, for her sister, huffed in unjustified annoyance before turning on her heel and almost storming out of the apartment.

Since Charlie had driven them over, he now had to take them back to the townhouse so that Lizzie could grab some things to take to her parents' house, and she decided, collect Georgiana.

"Georgiana?" Will questioned as they walked through the front door.

"Yes, go and get her, she can't stay here alone while you're out traipsing about London," she argued

"Lizzie, you can't say it like that,"

"No?"

"No, I'm not just dumping you at you parents so I can go out and have a good time, you know that!"

"Regardless, Georgie will be safer with me," she said stubbornly, refusing to look him in the eye.

"I'm not disagreeing with you" he exclaimed headed towards the stairs.

"Fine!" She yelled, determined to have the final word. They didn't speak again before they left the townhouse.

It was ironic really, Lizzie contemplated, that when Darcy told her to 'go home', she would actually be leaving it. Everything was happening so fast, but just before Charlie had burst into the room earlier, interrupting Will's confession, Lizzie had been on the verge of making some confessions of her own. Now they were fighting!

An hour later, she was sitting, stubbornly silent, in the passenger seat of Will's car, staring out the window as the rain fell, seeing the world fly past, and she was scared. Will had said he was going back to help the police, but Lizzie knew that was a lie. Sure, he might help them some, but the determination she'd seen in Will's eyes had been something else. He was going to try to find Wickham himself, and that had Lizzie scared senseless. Now, not only was she scared for her sister, but she was also scared for her boyfriend. She almost cursed aloud. After all this time, the two of them had finally reached an understanding of themselves and each other, and they were together, and now Wickham was threatening that! She was furious. Scared, worried and furious!

Who knew how long it would take to find him, who knew how long he'd leave Katie alone before he did something drastic. Wickham was a scoundrel, certainly, but thus far, everything he'd done had been fuelled by some strange jealous obsession he had over Darcy. The company, the money he'd taken, attacking Georgie, both times, and everything to do with Lizzie since he'd seen the invitation to the benefit, it all had to do with Will, and since Katie wasn't directly connected to him, Lizzie hoped she might be spared.

And that Will wouldn't do anything stupid that might get him hurt, like fight Wickham. So, while she was annoyed at him, and giving him the silent treatment, she also knew he was doing a lot of this for her, which made her feel guilty. It was a cacophony of emotions that she wasn't prepared to deal with, and it was making her volatile. She didn't want to be mad at Will, but she couldn't stop herself.

When they finally arrived at her parent's home, Lizzie didn't spare a moment in escaping from his presence. She leapt out of the car and stomped towards the house, up the porch steps and through the front door without glancing back at him. She hoped he'd got the message that she was still upset with him.

In the foyer, the only light source, was what spilled in from the kitchen, and her father sat on the stairs in the almost darkness. The house was eerily quiet, in a way Lizzie had never experience before. She'd never known her family home to be silent. It was always filled with noises. Having five daughters would do that to a place. If it wasn't laughter, it was yelling, or singing or music blaring, the sounds of the kitchen as her mother cooked and baked, the sounds of her father's jazz records emanating from his study, the dogs barking, the television on… often times all this happening at once… but now it was silent, and didn't feel like home.

"Daddy?" Lizzie whispered, drawing her father's attention, he looked up and Lizzie could see he was struggling to keep himself together.

"Elizabeth," he breathed, pulling himself up and hugging her. It felt like forever that the two of them stood there in the foyer, just holding each other, but it can't have been that long before they were interrupted by the others. Jane and Charlie shuffled in, holding the front door open for Will, who was carrying a sleeping Georgiana.

"Come up Will, I'll show you where Georgie can stay," Jane offered, and the two men followed her up the stairs and Lizzie watched as she led them through the door at the top of the stairs… into her and Jane's bedroom, not the guest room further down the hall. Lizzie hugged herself, realizing that Jane and Charles would be taking the larger bed in that room, and she'd be spending the night in her childhood room with a different roommate. In her despairing thoughts, she couldn't help but wonder if anything was going to remain familiar.

"I'm going to London," her father spoke, stopping her thoughts.

"What? Dad, no, you can't leave, we can't do this without you here,"

"Katherine needs me, someone needs to be in London…" was all he said, and Lizzie knew he was right, and she knew that this was the real reason he'd wanted her and Jane to come home. So that he could leave and know his family was safe… and sane.

"Will is going back tonight," Lizzie told him, resigned, "Let him take you, he won't mind you staying…" the lump forming in her throat prevented her saying anymore.

"It's fine Lizzie, I'll be alright on my own," Lizzie wanted to protest but before she could say anything, she was interrupted.

"With all due respect sir," Darcy's voice sounded from behind them on the dark stairs, "I insist, you let me help,"

"Just let him help Dad, please," Lizzie whispered to her father, who paused a long moment to observe his favourite daughter before nodding his agreement.

"I'll go and get my things," he said, and made his way past Darcy who stood on the bottom step.

Will was staring at her silently, trying to figure out his next move. He knew that Lizzie was upset with him, but he also knew, in this case, he couldn't do it the way she wanted him to. This was about keeping her safe, and making her happy, in the long run. And while ordinarily, he'd do anything she wanted him to, this time, he just couldn't, and she was going to have to be okay with that. He knew that leaving her now, would be best in the end.

Lizzie wouldn't be safe in London, and Will wouldn't be able to focus on the problem, and on finding Wickham, if he was worrying about her. Knowing she was here, he'd be able to do more, and know with certainty that she was safe. He also knew that she was in no frame of mind to listen to his reasoning. So instead of trying, he simply pulled her into his arms and held her, squeezing her against his body, not wanting to let go.

He held her there for a long while, and eventually she reciprocated. Lifting her arms and wrapping them around his middle, nestling her head under his chin and letting a few tears escape onto his sweater. Their moment came to an end when Lizzie's father reappeared at the top of the stairs and the couple pulled away from each other reluctantly.

"Let's go," the older man said, carrying his duffle bag towards the front door.

"Be safe Lizzie," Will whispered, "If nothing else, just promise me that," she nodded her agreement in the semi darkness of the foyer and he pressed a lingering kiss to her temple, right at the hair line, before turning to follow her father out the door and leaving her alone in the foyer. Hugging herself again, she watched through the windows framing the front door as the two men climbed into Darcy's car and headed back towards London.

"That man is in love with you Lizzie," the unexpected voice made Lizzie jump. And she looked up into the darkened living room to her left. She hadn't noticed them before, but realized they must have been there the whole time as she stepped into the room. He mother sat on the sofa, her eyes puffy and her voice croaky, with her youngest sister laid out beside her, her body curled up tight and her head resting on her mother's lap. Lydia was asleep, but her tear stained face looked restless and Lizzie knew her baby sister had probably cried herself to exhaustion.

Her mother, usually so invigorated, bubbly and enthusiastic, and always talking, looked a ghost of herself. And those words, that one sentence she'd spoken to Elizabeth, meant more than Lizzie could even begin to explain. And for the first time in her life, instead of arguing with her, or trying to discourage what, when all this was over, was sure to be blown out of proportion, Lizzie nodded.

"I know he is" she said, with a watery smile as she crossed the room, kissing the top of her mother's head, then Lydia's, she retreated up the stairs to her room.