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Elizabeth returned home to be greeted by all her sisters but one; Lydia had gone off on an excursion of her own, invited to Brighton by her friend, Mrs. Forster. The thought of the silly child out on her own, exposing herself in public without supervision, made Elizabeth anxious, and had she been home at the time, she would have counselled against allowing her to go, but there was nothing to be done about it now, and the joys of home were such that she soon put it out of her mind. Indeed, her father told her several times how glad he was to have her home, and she had missed him while she'd been away.

And, of course, Mr. Bingley and Jane had been engaged within the week of their return. Their happiness was contagious, and Elizabeth found herself almost constantly with a smile, even in the face of her mother's rather overzealous good humor.

A while later, buried among the heaps of well-wishes and congratulations addressed to Jane, Elizabeth found a letter for herself. She caught her breath when she saw from whom it had been sent.

Why would he write to her? Was it possible that-?

No. No, best not to speculate about the contents of the letter but to simply read it and find out. Making sure she was alone and would not be disturbed, she unfolded the parchment and read:

Miss Elizabeth Bennet,

I hope you will not find this correspondence too presumptuous, but I felt compelled to seek some contact with you, if only through writing, lest I not have another opportunity to do so. Perhaps, I can never hope to gain your love in this life, but I am comforted, after our last meeting, that you at least no longer think so poorly of me as you once did - as I, regrettably, gave you just cause to do - and that thought shall console me if I fall.

I write to you from the siege of London. There is now a cunning design to the zombie attack. I sense a dark hand is at work. They are guiding the enemy, Ms. Bennet. By taking London they've increased their ranks a hundred fold. Now we endeavor to keep them trapped within the great wall. If we should fail to contain them and they breach Hingham Bridge, it'll be as if a great dam has broken, and they'll reach out for us swiftly and in overwhelming numbers.

Dear Ms. Bennet, I implore you to be ready.

FITZWILLIAM DARCY

Hardly knowing what to think, Elizabeth could not remain still. She took a ride to clear her head, thoughts racing like the horse beneath her. The second half of Mr. Darcy's letter concerned her, worrying anxiously at the back of her mind, but the chief of her thoughts were concerned with the first part.

Did he, then, still love her? Did she want his love? What were her feelings for him?

He was, she admitted, handsome, and she'd admired his ability as a warrior from the start. As she'd learned the truth behind her misconceptions and grown to know the man better, she'd gained true respect for his character.

Hardest of all to deny was that she was worried for him. She had every confidence in his ability to defend himself, but he'd written plainly of the situation, and it was dire.

When she returned home, her thoughts were no more clear or calm than when she'd left, and she was met by yet more bad news.

"Wickham has run off with Lydia."

As distressing as it was, Elizabeth almost welcomed it. This was a problem to solve, something to do. In this, she at least knew where to start.

At the sight of the seal on the letter in Jane's hands, Elizabeth pronounced, "I know where she is."

As she'd readied herself to pursue her sister, the last thing she'd expected was the Lady Catherine's interruption. Unprepared as she was to deal with the unwelcome intrusion, she did not back down. Even with everything else on her mind, Elizabeth could not help but take pride in earning the Lady's respect.

In the end, she, Bingley, and Jane departed for London and St. Lazarus, while the rest retired to Rosings.

The bridge exploded even as they desperately raced across, and as the dust settled, Elizabeth's first thought was surprise that she yet lived.

Her second was concern for her companion. She struggled to keep her composure as she reached Darcy's motionless form, and her own heart skipped a beat when she failed to detect a pulse. In desperation, she removed her glove before trying once more, refusing to give up, and a tear of relief slipped down her cheek when she felt that his heart still beat, though faintly.

"You are the most stubborn man I've ever met," she whispered. "You will awake."

Recognizing how desperately she needed it to be true, Elizabeth finally realized: She loved this man.