A/N: For those of you still reading this, you brave few, I commend your strong constitutions and hope you can hold onto your stomachs for a little while longer, the engagement continues!

And to those of you that have fled to the hills, I don't blame you, in fact if the rotten tomatoes start flying I may just join you!

Part 13- 'A very public engagement…'

He knew he was drinking too much, far too much. But it helped. Solace really could be found in the bottom of a glass, or, in his case, a bottle. The pressure and bitterness over the past month were building everyday in his chest, getting heavier and heavier, weighing him down. And all the time he knew that any minute it could all fall apart. He could fall apart.

The drink made him forget, made him lighter so that he could at least breathe again. And Darcy needed to breathe, needed huge gulps of refreshing, cleansing air; he needed to be free, free to forget Elizabeth Bennet had ever existed.

It was impossible; every waking moment, even the ones where he was half-dead with drink, all he saw was her, her through the haze, hating him, accusing him. He was sincere in his letter to her about his depression. It had plagued him most of his life, due in no small part to his father's expectations of him. But it had been at its worst these past few years. Wickham and Lady Catherine could be thanked for that.

He had avoided prescription drugs where he could; Darcy knew that once he turned to them, fighting the disease on his own would prove a near impossibility. And he thought himself a great deal too young to roll into the Betty Ford clinic just yet.

Bingley eyed his friend wearily. Darcy looked very much the worse for wear and it was only ten in the morning. He had been struggling to keep stories of Darcy's erratic behaviour and drinking to a minimum, but today there was a full-spread feature on the contrasting fortunes of the two co-stars. Elizabeth Bennet's story was an altogether different one to that of Darcy's.

He strode up purposefully and snatched the bottle away from him. Darcy barely stirred. Bingley noticed the same paper he was holding strewn around Darcy's feet; Lizzy's face stared up at him from the scattered pages.

'What are you doing to yourself, Darcy…? I don't understand it. What the hell's the matter with you? This past month you've been like a ghost. And you're drinking too much…' He waved the bottle in front of him reproachfully.

'Not nearly enough…' Darcy's muttered reply was barely audible over the sound of Bingley pouring the whisky down the sink. Darcy didn't try to stop him; he merely twirled the shot he had already poured around and around in its glass.

Bingley leaned against the sink watching him. 'I see you've read the papers, then…quite a shock, don't you think…?'

Darcy shrugged his shoulders. 'Why…?'

'Oh, come on, we all know how slimy Collins is. The fact that Lizzy agreed to marry him doesn't surprise you…?'

'No…she's allowed to marry who she wants… I'm sure they'll be very happy together…' Darcy raised his glass in a mock salute. 'To the new Mrs Collins: may we all learn to move on as quickly as she has …' He threw the drink down his neck in one swift slug.

Bingley couldn't understand the latter part of his sentence. 'Well, it surprised me, at least. Jane always said…' he stopped himself on the familiarity of her name, 'that is, Miss Bennet always said that Lizzy didn't care for Collins…'

'Well, maybe she changed her mind…' Darcy snapped angrily.

Bingley was annoyed with him. 'I don't understand you, Darcy…You've worked with this girl for nearly a year. Are you telling me in all that time, that you haven't put your petty differences aside enough to even feign an interest…'

'I'm sorry…by all means, tell all…' He waved the empty glass in the air fancifully. Bingley began to read from the paper.

'The longstanding rumours of an engagement on the set of The Framed Rose were confirmed yesterday by the announcement by Miss Elizabeth Bennet's sister and agent, Jane Bennet. The young star of the film is set to marry a Mr Edward Collins. He is a relative unknown and is widely thought to be the history expert drafted in to assist in the authenticity of the film. The engagement has prompted wild speculation into the nature of the relationship as it is believed that the affair has come as a surprise even to the family of the prospective bride.

Mr Collins is believed to be delighted with the engagement, and who can blame him? He is by all accounts not the most handsome of men, and when standing next to his fiancée, the very beautiful Elizabeth Bennet, has rather cruelly inspired such headlines as 'The Beauty and the Beast.'
Their engagement is to be formally celebrated tonight at an engagement party to be held on the grounds of Herrington Estate, the location of the forthcoming film…'

'You should go…' Darcy suddenly turned around and looked him directly in the eye.

'What…?' Bingley was shocked Darcy would even suggest such a thing.

But Darcy was determined. 'If you leave now, you should be there in plenty of time.One of us should go, and seeing as I'm still busy filming…'

'No…I can't go, you know that…'

'Why not…?'

Bingley was amazed he even had to ask. 'Jane will be there…and you know I can't face her alone, knowing she doesn't care for me as I do her…I'm surprised you'd even suggest such a thing. I'm afraid if I see her again, Darcy, I won't be able to help myself and I'll end up proposing…'

Darcy smiled slightly at this. 'That's exactly what I'm counting on…there's no point in both of us being miserable…' Seeing Bingley look suitably puzzled, he sighed deeply. 'Bingley, I have a confession to make…'

He turned back to the glass wishing it was full again. 'You have to know, Bingley, that I think of you as more than just a friend. You're almost like a brother to me…What I've done…I had only your best interests in mind…'

'Darcy…now you're scaring me, what's this big confession…?'

After a lengthy pause, Darcy told Bingley all, how he had known of Jane's being in London the same time as he was, and he had kept the knowledge of it to himself. And how he had intercepted all his messages to make sure he never found out about Jane's presence.

Darcy watched Bingley's expression change from shock and disbelief to contempt and he was not surprised by it. 'But I was wrong, Bingley. I have to tell you that now. I was wrong to interfere and I was certainly wrong about how Jane feels about you. You have to believe me when I tell you that I have lately come to know exactly how she feels…Bingley, she loves you, as much as you do her…'

Bingley was unsure how to react. 'You lied to me, Darcy…I can't believe you did that…'

'I know, and I'm truly sorry. It was despicable of me…' Darcy trailed off; it was clear Bingley was not listening. He approached him with a hopeful expression.

'You're sure she loves me…how do you know…are you sure…?'

Darcy smiled. 'I'm sure…just something somebody said to me; I'm more than certain of it. So, perhaps you should go to that party…?'

Bingley's expression was one of such relieved joy that it did not surprise Darcy when he tore out of the room at such a pace that Darcy was sure there was a cloud of dust kicked up behind him.

'I wholly forgive you, Darcy….' Bingley shouted back just before he was out of earshot as he raced down the corridor towards the exit.

Darcy smiled to himself quietly. No; no point in both of them being miserable.

Jane could not help but despair at the scene playing out in front of her. Mr Collins had just made the big announcement, and now both he and Lizzy were busy receiving congratulations from the multitude of well-wishers thronging forward.

Only Jane did not press forward. She knew as clearly as she knew night from day that this was not what Lizzy wanted. She stood at the back of the grand hall and could not dispel the sad tears that crept into her eyes.

She did not notice the man who came to stand next to her until she felt his arm around her waist. Bingley! He wore such an expression on his face that Jane was certain of his question before he could even ask it.

Later, after they had slipped quietly away and Bingley had slipped a ring onto Jane's finger, he asked about the curious engagement between Lizzy and Mr Collins.

'I was sure she hadn't encouraged him. We all saw his obvious intentions as soon as he arrived on set, but Lizzy…'

Jane nodded. 'I know…it was such a shock to us as well. Do you know they have been engaged almost a month already? But I know this is not what she wants, it can't be…' Jane felt the tears coming on again despite her own happiness.

Bingley comforted her. 'What are you going to do…? Have you talked to her about it…?'

'No, I haven't had the courage yet…but I have a feeling she won't listen to me anyway…'

So what will you do..?'

'Well, if she doesn't like what I have to say, I know there's one person whose opinion she'll have to take into account…I'll call father…'

Jane was right to be anxious; Lizzy would not listen. Not wishing to usurp her sister's moment Jane had pulled her away from the crowd, and in a bid to escape it they now wandered through the Herrington maze. She had told Lizzy of her own good news: Bingley had returned and they were to be married.

Lizzy was overjoyed. It was obvious; the twinkle on Jane's ring shone as bright as the one in her eye. But the merriment did not last long. Jane could not stay silent any longer, and after the pleasantries and simpering were done, Jane began directly.

'Lizzy what are you doing…you can't marry Mr Collins, you can't marry this man…!'

Lizzy remained remarkably calm, in spite of all her sister's impassioned pleas. 'And why not? Why shouldn't I marry the one man who has not lied to me, who has never made a fool out of me, or never made me feel so depressed and doubting of my own ability…why should I not marry this man…?'

'Because you do not love him!' Jane's reply was emphatic. 'You once told me, Lizzy, that only the deepest love would ever induce you into matrimony…I can't believe you've found that with Mr Collins…'

Lizzy laughed oddly. 'Why not? Everyone else seems to believe it…'

'That's because…' Jane pressed her arm, '…they don't know you like I do…'

'And maybe it's you who do not know me, Jane…' She quietly shrugged off Jane's arm and walked away. Jane was left stunned and silent until she became aware of her surroundings.

'Lizzy…' she called out, 'you know I don't like mazes…you know I'm not very good at them…'

'Don't worry…' Jane could only barely make out Lizzy's voice, 'I'll be sure to send a prince out to rescue you… or at least Bingley…!'

'Lizzy…!'