Darcy was roused out of his thoughts at the sound of quick footsteps approaching the library. He put his scotch down on the table, and looked towards the door. To his surprise, Lizzie appeared. She was walking into the library, texting someone with one hand, while she rubbed her eye with the other. Clutched to her body in the crook of her arm was a bottle of wine.

"Lizzie," said Darcy, careful to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Lizzie jumped a mile. Darcy suddenly realized that she had thought the library to be deserted, and that she probably couldn't see him sitting there in the darkness.

"God, Darcy! You scared me!"

Darcy turned to the table beside him and flicked on the lamp. If he thought Lizzie had seemed out of sorts during dinner, it was nothing compared to how she was now. Lizzie, so usually composed, looked completely shattered. Her hair was ruffled, her eyes were bloodshot and her hands, still clutching her iphone, were shaking drastically.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Grand. Everything is grand." Her voice shook though, and she stumbled slightly on her heels.

Darcy stood up immediately and went over to her. He took the wine, and her phone from her hands and put them down on the table. When he turned around again, she was rubbing her forehead with hands that still trembled. She looked on the verge of tears - an emotion he never expected to see from Lizzie. She was always so strong; so composed. Yet here she was, before him, in the complete opposite state. Her make up, though not smudged, was visibly worn from where she was been rubbing her eyes.

"Evidently, it would seem that everything is not quite as grand as you say it is." He said

"Then why did you bother asking?" Lizzie snapped back. She shook her head quickly, with a look of regret on her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. I should go."

She turned to leave, but Darcy grabbed her arms gently and looked into her eyes. They stared back at him, with a look of complete helplessness in them. Darcy had seen that look only one other time in his life, and that was from Gigi after he had picked her up from Swim Camp after learning about had happened with her and Wickham. The look in Lizzie's eyes hit him as hard in the chest as they had coming from Gigi.

"I know you probably won't take me up on this offer, but if there's anything I can do to help, you just need to ask."

Darcy hated seeing Lizzie so distressed, and he wondered what, or whom, had made her so upset. To his surprise, tears started to slide down Lizzie's face and she didn't struggle to get out of his grip. She lowered her head, and her shoulders slumped. She was clearly defeated.

"I might as well tell you, as I'm sure you'll find out anyway. I have to return home first thing tomorrow. Lydia …." She stopped briefly, overcome with a choking sob. "Lydia … and Wickham … Oh God, Darcy ..."

Darcy's eyes widened in sudden comprehension, and his stomach plummeted. He didn't need Lizzie to finish her story – If it involved Lydia and Wickham, there was only one way it could end. The same way it had with Gigi …

"When did you find out?" he asked her quietly.

"Jane just called me. I answered my phone in the kitchen. Gigi walked in halfway through my conversation, so knows I have to go, but she doesn't know why. If you can … I don't know … Fabricate some sort of story to cover me, I'd really appreciate it."

"Of course," he replied.

"Darcy, Gigi can't know. It would absolutely kill her." Lizzie said urgently. "You can't let her find out."

Darcy met Lizzie eyes, and the sadness in them overwhelmed him. Without realizing it, he gently pulled her to his chest and felt her body shudder as she cried. She made no effort to pull away from him - rather, she pressed her face to his chest and completely broke down. In that moment, Darcy had never loathed Wickham more. He had managed to weasel his way into the lives of everybody he cared about before proceeding to single handedly destroying them.

He stood there, with a sobbing Lizzie wrapped in his arms. Under usual circumstances he would have been ecstatic to be embracing Lizzie like this, but the weight in his chest told him something terrible was at bay. He gently stroked Lizzie's hair before finally replying somberly.

"I promise. Whatever happens, Lizzie, I promise I'll do my best to help you."

William Darcy never broke a promise. And George Wickham would not get away with his actions this time ...