A/N: Well I guess this is the point in the story where you decide to stick with it or run screaming for the hills! You'll see what I mean...

Part 12- '…How could I have been so wrong…?'

Lizzy was right; she didn't get much sleep that night. She doubted she would ever sleep well again. She was glad she had packed the night before as it allowed her to leave mercifully early. The last thing she wanted was to have to talk to anyone.

Her head was aching and swirling in equal measures. She must have read Darcy's letter a dozen times over, yet every line offered a fresh revelation. She was disgusted with the first half, where he had described his actions regarding Jane and Bingley, and further stating he had no case to answer only infuriated her.

But at least there was now some hope that Bingley was not entirely indifferent to Jane, considering the lengths to which Darcy went to hide Jane's presence from him in London. There was still the matter of her family, though, and whatever the truth of it, the fact still remained that their actions were partly to blame for Jane's current unhappiness. The thought saddened her.

But when the letter came to mention Wickham…My God, she thought…what revelations were to be had there. Considering it contained such intimate truths with regard to his sister, Lizzy could not help but acknowledge the genuineness of it. He wouldn't make up such lies…such damning lies. She had tears in her eyes when she read over what Wickham had done, and what he had tried to do, to that poor girl…and all as revenge against Darcy? It was despicable.

And she could not help but feel sorry for Darcy. His words describing his depression, the worry for his sister and the stranglehold Lady Catherine had over him made her heart ache at the thought of how she herself had spoken to him only yesterday…how cruel she had been.

No wonder Wickham had kept away. Darcy may have just killed him, and justifiably so. All those lies he had told her, and she had fallen for every single one of them…how? She had always been a cynic, never taken anything at face value…but Wickham, she had wholly trusted him within a matter of hours.

Why? She could not help but think vanity had played a major part in it. Wickham had flattered and charmed her upon their first meeting, whereas Darcy had immediately dismissed her. It could be the only reason she had fallen in love with one and developed so pointed a hatred for the other. She knew nothing about either man in truth.

And all the time, on the long drive back the same thought preyed on her mind. How could she have been so wrong?

Darcy attempted, at breakfast that morning, to appear as if he were listening as his aunt chastised him on his rudeness last night. He seemed to be doing a good enough job; she had not yet ceased talking. He stole a quick glance at the antique grandfather clock at the far end of the room. It had just gone nine, but he knew with a curious certainty that Elizabeth Bennet was already halfway home by now, driving out of Kent… and driving out of his life, for good.

The past year, all that time he had worked with her, watched her, all the time thinking her barbed comments and fencing of wits with him had been just that. He had thought she was tempting him, flirting with him…encouraging him.

And in truth, her words haunted him…throughout it all she actually hated him. How could he have been so wrong?

'And he was in love with you…all that time… Poor Mr Darcy…' Jane had returned only a few days before Lizzy, and it was only now that Lizzy had the courage to relate to her sister what had taken place between her and Mr Darcy in Kent. She had been careful to avoid mentioning anything about Bingley. She did not think even Jane was forgiving enough to pardon the part her family had played in bringing about her separation from the man she loved.

'Yes…poor Mr Darcy…' Lizzy sighed alongside her.

'No…I did not mean that anyone who falls in love with you ought to be pitied…quite the contrary, of course….'

Lizzy smiled. 'I know what you meant Jane…it's quite alright…'

But Jane had another thought on the matter, one that despite all her attempts she could not shake off. 'Lizzy…forgive me for asking, but I cannot help but think…Lizzy, is this… what you meant…?'

Lizzy was genuinely puzzled as to what her sister was alluding. 'I don't understand, Jane…?'

'When you said that Darcy would regret it…that he would be sorry for what he did to you at the ball…was this your revenge?'

Lizzy still shook her head. 'Jane, what do you mean…?'

Jane took Lizzy's hand in her own. 'Did you mean to make him fall in love with you…so that you may have the pleasure of rejecting him…?'

Lizzy snatched her hand away from her sister, shocked. 'No…I had no idea he was in love with me…I thought he disliked me as much as I did him…I never dreamt… When I said I would make him sorry, I meant through acting. I intended to act him off the screen…that is all. Jane, how could you think such a thing of me, to think that I could be so cruel…?'

Jane was at once repentant. 'Lizzy…I'm sorry. Of course I know you're not cruel, I know you would never hurt anyone deliberately…not even Mr Darcy.'

'Well I'm glad you think so…' Lizzy sighed and sat down next to her sister again. 'I know you feel sorry for him, but I think he has other feelings…they'll soon drive away any regard he might have had for me.'

Jane pressed her hand once more. 'Lizzy, considering what's happened and what we now know, what are you going to do about Wickham?'

'I don't know…I feel such a fool, Jane, trusting him so blindly…I cannot think of it without shame…'

'You have nothing to be ashamed of; it was not you who was deceitful.'

Lizzy bit her bottom lip in anxiety. 'I know…should we tell anyone what he is, what he truly is…?'

Jane was undecided. 'He has only a small part in the film. I'm sure he'll be gone soon, and with any luck that'll be the last we see or hear of him. What do you think?'

'I think…we had better not try. Nobody would believe us anyhow. You know how well Wickham is liked around here, and Mr Darcy has not given me permission to tell the world of his grievance with Wickham, especially as it concerns his sister…'

Jane nodded, 'Yes, of course. We'll keep it to ourselves, then, but Lizzy, I'm worried for you. How are you ever going to face Wickham? What will you say to him…?'

Lizzy's face at once became stern. 'I don't know, but whatever it is, I know I won't make it pleasant.'

Lizzy had secretly been wishing that she would not have to confront Wickham. She had very much hoped that he would leave quietly and that she would never see him again.

But Wickham knew nothing of Mr Darcy's proposal or his letter and he thought himself as much liked by Lizzy as ever. He caught up with her as she hurried along to her trailer. 'Hey…'

Lizzy stopped and turned, even though she recognised the voice; she said nothing.

'I'm glad you're back. How was Kent…?' Wickham was unruffled and smiling, as always.

Lizzy smiled slightly in return. 'Illuminating…'

The peculiar smile had him slightly worried. 'Oh…?' he asked in trepidation.

'I didn't see much of Kent, but I did learn quite a bit about it, about the people connected with it in particular…'

Wickham laughed. 'Yes I'm sure Darcy was as insufferable as ever…' Wickham attempted to disguise his suspicion at the tone of her voice.

She looked him directly in the eyes. 'I think we have been a great deal too harsh on Mr Darcy in general. He improves, you know, on closer acquaintance…'

'Really…? I'm glad if he has improved. Are we speaking of his manners or of a broader improvement…?'

Lizzy smiled widely now. 'No…no, in manners he is as he ever was, as rude and obnoxious, but I feel the more one learns about the man, the better one's understanding of him… of what he is and why he takes such pains to be so unpleasant. One may even begin to understand the reasons behind it…'

'What have you learnt…?' Wickham replied quietly, knowing full well what she knew.

Lizzy was in no mood to talk to him any longer. 'I don't care for playing games, Mr Wickham. I care even less for the one you have played with me…'

Wickham smiled slyly. 'Games…? I only told you what you wanted to hear…it's hardly my fault that you didn't think to question me on details…'

Lizzy was disgusted. How could she not have seen the deviousness and sheer gall of this man before?

'What you did…what you almost did to that poor girl…You're despicable!'

In her anger Lizzy failed to notice her voice was rising, and she was beginning to attract a crowd. 'You're a liar and a thief, and it'll be a cold day in hell before I ever let you take me for a fool again!'

He laughed at her; she shook her head. 'I can't believe I ever…Darcy is ten times the man you are. I'm going to make sure I don't ever even have to breathe the same air as you again. I've spoken to Harry. He's more than happy to rework the scenes. I won't be surprised if you're edited from the film altogether.'

It was Lizzy's turn to smile triumphantly as she watched his face fall.

'Nobody does that to me,' he shouted angrily. 'You're making a big mistake…' he threatened her.

She wasn't the least bit unnerved. 'Yes I can, and I already have. As for making a mistake, I've made so many this past year…by far the biggest being trusting you, but believe me, that won't happen again.'

As he grabbed her wrist menacingly and twisted her arm painfully, a few of the onlookers sought to intervene, but they need not have worried. Lizzy was more than capable of handling the likes of George Wickham.

Stepping close to him and shifting all her weight on one leg, she suddenly lifted the other and, drawing it back, kneed Wickham directly in the crotch! He went down like a sack of potatoes, releasing his grip on her arm and placing both hands over his aching manhood.

She walked away from him, turning a deaf ear to the threats he uttered that she would regret what she had done and to the profanities that he screamed at her.

She sat trembling, Darcy's letter literally shaking in her hand. The confrontation with Wickham had left her drained. She did not regret her actions toward him, but, God, did she rue the mistakes of the past year.

Lizzy kept going back to that letter. The depression…he had said he was drowning, but he had hidden it so well behind that cool and calm façade. He had been falling apart and she had done nothing, suspected nothing.

More than likely she had made it worse, forcing him to explain himself to her, to recall all those bitter memories about his sister and his blackmailing aunt. Lizzy had never been more inclined to think better of Darcy than now, when it was too late, when he would no doubt be likely to reject her help if she at all offered it.

She could never forgive him for Jane, but she could learn to be kinder.

For the first time in her life, Lizzy wanted nothing more than to be at home, surrounded by familiar things. Even the incessant chatter of her mother could prove a welcome distraction. Surely that was where meagre comfort would now lie. She carefully folded over the letter and placed it in her bag, then hurried out of the trailer. Swinging the door wide open, she was surprised to hear a dull crunch and then a muffled moan.

This had happened before, but surely not to the same person twice. Sure enough, peeking behind the door Lizzy found poor Mr Collins, this time holding his nose.

'Mr Collins, my God, are you alright?' She looked him up and down regretfully. His nose was beginning to bleed. Lizzy hurried him into the trailer and handed him a box full of tissues.

He took a few and, rolling them up lengthwise, tilted his head back and stuffed them up his nostrils. She placed a cold compress over the bridge of his nose; it was beginning to swell dreadfully.

'Mr Collins, I'm so sorry, but what are you doing here…?' She sat opposite him.

'It's been six months, Miss Bennet; surely you can't have forgotten…You gave me that little hope, Miss Bennet. I've come to ask again.'

This could only happen to Mr Collins. The first time he had come to propose she had almost given him a concussion; now she was sure to have broken his nose.

Of course, she recalled his proposal, but had it really been six months already? How much had happened since then. Perhaps it was because her head was swimming with the recent encounter with Wickham, the way he had laughed at her, or the fact that she had been so wrong about Darcy. But whatever it was, in that insane moment Lizzy's answer surprised them both.

'Yes…' Mr Collins wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. He had begun to recite once more his ardent feelings for her. Lizzy could stand it no longer.

'What…?' He looked ridiculous, speaking in that nasal voice and with tissues stuffed up his nose. But she was certain in her reply.

'Yes…I'll marry you…Mr Collins…' The shock and excitement sent his nose bleeding again, and Lizzy had to listen to his exclamations of delight and felicitation in between changing bloodied tissues.

More than once, Lizzy disbelieved her own answer. 'Have I really just said yes to Mr Collins?'