(2)

After the initial shock of seeing Mr. Darcy seeking her out had settled enough for her to think again, Elizabeth replied with a quiet thank you that came out as more of a question than anything. He had interrupted her self-recriminating, and it was disconcerting. She scrambled to come up with something to say that did not seem trite or taboo, and blanked. She was too mortified of her own blindness toward the entirety of their acquaintance to speak. When Mr. Darcy nodded in the direction of the parsonage and gestured slightly with his hand, she was relieved that he did not appear to expect conversation. She had never been so thankful for his ability to be silent! She was well aware that she had misjudged his character terribly. How he could stand to be in her presence, she did not know.

As they began the walk back to the parsonage, Elizabeth let out a long breath, and then glanced over at her companion. He must have seen the signs of her distress, and the letter still in her hand when he came upon her. His face gave nothing away, however. She did not have a good enough view of his eyes to see what lay there. Then again, it would likely do her no good to see them, since she had quite obviously read them poorly anyway. She felt like such fool.

Elizabeth was grateful that Mr. Darcy had come upon her after her second perusal of the letter. If he had have found her after the first, she would have been indignant and, to her chagrin, would have told him so. After this second reading, though, she had to admit that Fitzwilliam Darcy was not the abominable man she had made him out to be. She still felt he was arrogant, and above his company, but those paled in comparison to the two character deficiencies she been so quick to assign to him. He had shown his willingness to do what he felt was necessary for the happiness of his friend. While he had been misguided in his belief of Jane's indifference, Elizabeth remembered Charlotte's same opinion, that Jane had not shown enough of her feelings. He was completely acquitted of all wrongdoing toward Mr. Wickham, and had quite clearly been the victim. His caring for his sister too was as an admirable trait. She could not see fault in those. She no longer had any true grievances against him. Rude behavior did not give her an excuse to hate a man.

Those thoughts moved her to the subject of his sister. Her heart ached for a girl who had not only had her parents taken from her before she was ready to be out in the world, but her innocence as well. To be exposed to false love so soon must have devastated her self worth. In true caring, but also with a desire to let Mr. Darcy know of her belief in his letter and have some conversation to cover this awkwardness, Elizabeth asked about her.

"Mr. Darcy, is Miss Darcy, if you do not mind my asking, is she much recovered?" Elizabeth paused here, and then charged on, "I can only imagine the events of the summer must have been a blow to her, and I, well..." Elizabeth sensed Mr. Darcy stiffening beside her. I am not wording this well, she thought. It was not like her to be so tongue-tied! "I am sorry, it is not my place - "

"Miss Bennet, please," Darcy interrupted, "Do not make yourself uneasy. I appreciate your concern." He was startled by what he thought was her indication that she believed him. While he had hoped the letter would help, he had bitterly seen the unlikeliness of it. Darcy felt a warmth steal through his heart, at the possibility. Perhaps she no longer hated him completely.

"While I would wish to see her more like her old self, she is," he paused for the right word, "she is improving." He hesitated again, and then, wishing the conversation to continue, decided to add, "She has come far from where she was in the summer, and even since autumn." He hoped Elizabeth would understand some of his hesitancy in company while in Hertfordshire was due to the disaster of last summer. He knew he was not easy in company, and had admitted as much to her by the pianoforte at Rosings a fortnight ago. "She would benefit greatly from genuine friends," he finished.

Elizabeth wondered if the friends he had been thinking of included herself, if she had have accepted him. "Is it difficult then, for Miss Darcy to make friends?" She asked.

"She has found it difficult to discern the genuine from the false in the past, which has been exacerbated by her misfortune of summer. She has been falsely courted by ladies who would use her for her connections before. Now I worry that she will view the risk of misinterpreting others' motives not worth new friendships." He worried that she would become as mistrusting and reserved as himself. Oh, how he wished her naivete had not been torn from her!

The pair had, by now, reached the parsonage gate. On the way to the door, Elizabeth was trying to remember if they had ever had a conversation before where she had not been annoyed by Mr. Darcy. She had labeled him as aggravating from the beginning, and had used that to find the worst in everything he had said. Knowing now how he had felt about her, she realised she had probably misconstrued his motives behind nearly everything he had said. She felt mortified all over again. She wished for time to review their previous conversations, to try and see them in this new light.

Darcy was thrilled that she cared enough to ask after his sister. He felt a sliver of hope begin to enter his heart. He tried to push it down, reasoning that concern for his sister was far from caring for him, but he could not erase it completely. He loved her too much for that.

As they entered the house, Elizabeth handed her outerwear to Sally, and Darcy followed with his. He guided her toward Charlotte's back parlor, but stayed near the doorway while she entered. She immediately moved to her friend to receive the express, thanking Mr. Darcy as she did so. Darcy watched Elizabeth as he and Colonel Fitzwilliam were making their final goodbyes, and was therefore the first to see her expression fall. She cried out a distressed "No!" and collapsed into the chair behind her. By the time Darcy crossed the room to her side, she had wrapped her arms around her middle and was rocking slightly in her seat as she began to cry, letting out a keening wail. The sound tore at his heart. What would cause her such anguish?

"Miss Bennet!" Darcy cried out as he moved close to her. "What has happened?" he asked more gently, as he knelt at her side. When she still could not answer, after a few moments he reached out carefully and laid his hand on her upper arm, "Miss Elizabeth?" he tried again.

It must have pulled her out of her reverie, because she brokenly cried out, "Papa, oh no! I cannot!" She shuddered out a breath, and then began sobbing again.

Darcy leaned down and picked up the note, hoping she would forgive his intrusion. He scanned the few lines, and saw it was from her sister Mary.

Lizzy,

Please come home as soon as you are able, we need you. Papa has collapsed and is gone. Mama has taken to her room, and the household is in confusion. Please, we need your and Jane's presence.

Mary

His heart broke for her. He would not wish this pain, that he knew all too well, on anyone. Oh, Elizabeth!

Elizabeth took a couple of deep, shuddering breaths and pulled herself together. Her family needed her, and she needed to be with them. Home, she needed a way home, and as quickly as possible. She needed to be doing something, moving forward somehow.

"Charlotte, when does the stagecoach leave?" she looked to her friend as she asked. "Can I still meet it today?"

Her arms began to relax, but she did not push Darcy's hand away, to his relief. He so badly wished to comfort her.

"I believe it leaves at eleven, so it has already departed for today," Charlotte responded, "but, Eliza, what has happened? What is wrong?" She did not move in her friend's direction, seeing how Mr. Darcy was with her. Had he already made his intentions known? She did not wish to interfere.

"Papa is dead. He is gone." She let out a few more sobbing breaths, and cradled her middle again, turning her face back down. "I need to get home," she whispered.

"Oh, Eliza," was her friend's simple, yet fully sorrowful, reply.

"We can take you to London, can't we, Darcy?" interjected the Colonel. "There is plenty of room in Darcy's carriage, and we can smuggle one of our aunt's maids with us, so that Miss Lucas does not need to leave."

Why had he not thought to offer that? "Certainly," replied Darcy. "Would you be meeting Miss Bennet at your uncle's house?" he asked. "We could take you there directly, and today. It would save you a day's travel and the headache of arranging to get from the coaching station to your uncle's. We would have you there by dinner-time tonight, so that you may travel to Hertfordshire immediately in the morning."

Elizabeth was surprised at how quickly they offered. That he would be willing to do this for her, even if put up to it by his cousin, after her treatment of him! Even in her grief, she could see that he was so much better of a man than she had given him credit for. He was under no obligation to her. She did not wish to question if he had motives, she was so grateful, and she told him so.

"If you could, if you do not mind, you have my gratitude," she told him, with feeling. She would be able to return to Longbourn with Jane and the Gardiners without causing them to wait for her.

He sighed to himself, knowing that he wanted so much more than her gratitude. But he would take being able to help her. He needed to show her that he was not the man she believed him to be, if for nothing else but his own peace of mind. Her acceptance of his carriage was a start. He also genuinely wanted to do anything he could to ease her pain.

"It is nothing, to help a friend in need," he replied, "and we would hardly be going out of our way. We will return to Rosings now, and I expect we will be back within the hour. Can you be ready by then?"

She replied to the affirmative and Darcy finally removed his hand from her arm. They were both surprised to see that it had stayed this entire time. He gave her a long look, and then stood. The gentlemen left, and Elizabeth heard the front door close before she stood. She looked to her friend. Charlotte had a curious expression on her face, but Elizabeth did not wish to answer questions now. As if sensing this, Charlotte did not ask. Instead she came forward and embraced her dear friend.

"My dear Eliza, I am so sorry," she said. "Let me help you pack, so that you may be ready when the gentlemen return."

"Thank you, Charlotte," Elizabeth replied, not letting go of her friend. Charlotte held her for a few minutes while she sobbed. She pulled herself together again, and away from the embrace. The ladies moved for the stairs, both quiet. They were saddened, but while they did not say it, a part of their minds were also on the gentleman from the north.

A/N: Sad, I know. It has to be depressing, with the loss of Mr. Bennet. We all know that Lizzy is not made for melancholy, though, and she will weather this well. We will move to her enduring cheerfulness again. :)

I took the liberty of moving Darcy and the Colonel's leaving up a day, to allow them to be there when the express arrived, and to offer a genuinely better alternative than a stage coach. I know a lot of writers put her on a post coach when she travels, but from what I've read, those often traveled at night, because the roads were clearer and they could move faster. That doesn't work so well with my schedule, so stage it is! Serves the same purpose.

Thank you for the encouraging reviews, they are a great confidence booster. I cannot believe how well that first, short chapter was received! This one is coming out sooner than expected, mostly due to extra free time this weekend. Thanks!