Dearest Lizzie,

How are our aunt and uncle? Tell them my hellos, and that Ella and James are being as well-behaved as can be expected when Mama and Papa are away. Just last week, I found little James stealing cookies out of the kitchen….

How is Derbyshire? I hope you are enjoying yourself, despite your poor opinion of a certain Master of Pemberley….

London is so diverting….I find my spirits are much lighter here….

Lizzie,

I am afraid I must disrupt your trip with the most dreadful of news! I've just received a letter from Papa that Lydia has run away with Mr. Wickham to elope. You will remember that Lydia went to Brighton with Mrs. Foster and Colonel…

Lizzie, how I long to hear from you. Father has traveled to Brighton in search of any information regarding Lydia and Mr. Wickham, but he has received such varying accounts, that he is unsure what his next course could be. He now wishes he would not have wasted the journey to Brighton at all, as they are certainly even farther north…..

We long to hear word from you or Uncle. After a time in London, Father has returned home in lowly spirits. Mama has decided we must keep Lydia's whereabouts a secret, and it seems a deal between Mrs. Foster and herself was struck to keep these circumstances secret for now. How she expects this news to remain hidden, I know not! Oh Lizzie, how I wish you were here….

Oh, Lizzie, how it seems that our family has lost their senses amid our grief. Forgive my unkindness. Mama has increased her scheming tenfold to find me an admirable match. She is determined I find Mr. Bingley in London and marry him post-haste, as she thinks an advantageous match will save us before the dreadful news of Lydia surfaces….

Elizabeth, head bowed in grief, quietly absorbed the contents of her sister's dilapidated letters. She could scarcely fathom the impact.

Her breath grew to quick pants, and she wildly struck her hand out, searching for the settee she knew was behind her from the night prior. She sat in this manner, as panic washed her, for an inordinate amount of time.

Lydia had ruined the family, and she was in Pemberly ignorantly falling in love with a gentleman already a social-stretch from her family's status. How foolish she had been! The last letter was dated a mere 6 days ago, and with every passing day, the likelihood of finding Lydia in an honorably married state lessened. If they had gone to Gretna Green, they would surely have made it back home by now.

Wickham would want her dowry, meager as it may be, Elizabeth thought bitterly.

Unless Lydia exposed the amount of her dowry, and she was in no married state at all. Lizzie's body slowly bent, and she held her knees as she did when she was hurt as a child.

There was a quiet voice, urging her to seek help. She must seek out her aunt, her counsel would be most needed. And her uncle! Surely, this news would harm his already fragile health. But she couldn't stay here whilst her father searched fruitlessly for Lydia. He needed her.

An even quieter voice echoed a thought Elizabeth deemed most evil. Lying just beyond the library door, a gentleman paced impatiently, rehearsing a speech he hoped would be received with more kindness than the first time. Eliza could steel her nerves, receive an offer she imagined was forthcoming, and chain her beloved to this circumstance.

For the sake of her family, she considered this possibility for just a moment. Shockingly, she realized her love for Mr. Darcy's character outweighed her desire for salvation for herself and her sisters. How late this revelation arrived!

Through staggered breaths, she hastily scrubbed her eyes, undoubtedly puffy and reddened from her tears, and attempted to put her appearance in a semblance of decorum.

Though she was more presentable, the question of still presenting this information overwhelmed her. Why, she hardly understood this matter herself! And she'd have to face the Darcys, both of whom were undoubtedly anxious from her delay since breakfast.

Before she had fully righted herself, the doors burst open.

"Miss Bennet, forgive me for intruding…" Mr. Darcy noticed her countenance at once.

"Something has happened." A statement, not a question, so like his direct manner.

Elizabeth, overcome by his presence and her future, collapsed back on the settee in tears in an uncharacteristic moment of weakness. She felt rather faint.

Damning propriety, Darcy quickly joined her on the settee and gathered her hands into his much larger ones.

"Elizabeth, pray, what is the matter?" He breathed to her, entirely unused to such behavior. For once, Darcy noted a similarity between his sister and his beloved in this uncharacteristic display of frailty.

Raising those honeyed eyes, Elizabeth could only state the first thing that came to mind, "I must leave here at once."

Darcy stiffened, determining her message to convey a change in feelings. Had he been too brash in the library last eve? Though a few details remained fuzzy, any moments with Elizabeth were crystal clear.

"Miss Bennet, forgive me if I was too forward last evening, it seemed I misunderstood your attentions. There is no need to leave Pemberley on my account, you need not be disturbed by me." Darcy could hear the plea in his voice but found that Elizabeth had broken the pride he once so favored. He needed her.

"No, Mr. Darcy, you do not. At least, you were correct last evening. But my circumstances have changed. Oh, I'm butchering this," Elizabeth could see the dawning confusion and pain in his eyes, and she lost any possibility of reason.

"You must tell me. No barrier cannot be overcome, surely you know this."

His speech seemed to cause unintended pain, as Elizabeth's crying increased.

Mrs. Gardiner arrived at once, spurred by her niece's cries. Whether she could have been found loitering near the library, observing many Darcy ancestors in various art forms, all with the intent of observing the goings-on of the infamous library, she could not say.

"Lizzie," Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed, "Whatever is the matter!"

As she bustled into the library, she shot Mr. Darcy as wary a glance as she would dare with her upbringing. Mr. Darcy moved towards the fireplace at once, a mockery of yesterday's events.

Taking her niece in her arms, Elizabeth's cries could only increase, grieving afresh that her last moment alone with Mr. Darcy was complete.

"It's Lydia," she sobbed, "she has ruined us."

Mrs. Gardiner was able to get Elizabeth out of the library, up the stairs, and back to her rooms with as much calmness as she gave her two young children. She then proceeded to hold Lizzie as she shakingly turned over a series of letters, and Mrs. Gardiner continued to comfort Lizzie as she read over Jane's accounts of ruination.

As Elizabeth finally quieted, Mrs. Gardiner finished her reading.

"This is grave indeed, Lizzie" Mrs. Gardiner murmured.

"What are we to do, aunt? It seems there is no hope they will be found, and Mama's machinations will make the news more disastrous for us."

"I must speak with your uncle."

"No! His heart cannot bear this news."

"And yet, we cannot stay here, can we, Elizabeth?" Mrs. Gardiner gently admonished.

"We can allow Uncle to stay at the Rose and Crown while I travel to London for Jane! He can't possibly travel in his state."

"We would offend our current host greatly, Lizzie. There is no other way. We must relieve Jane of the children at once and aid your family."

There was a moment of grave silence, each lady's mind racking with the implications of this news.

"And what will you tell Mr. Darcy?" Mrs. Gardiner finally inquired.

"I cannot bear to lower my family further in his eyes through this knowledge."

"And yet you created expectations that must be answered. He does not seem a man to let such mystery rest."

"Let me handle, Mr. Darcy, aunt. I've put enough burden on your shoulders."

"This isn't your fault, Elizabeth!" Mrs. Gardiner pled, clasping her niece to herself once more, "This too shall be overcome"

Elizabeth's lips quirked longingly, recognizing the echo of those words from her beloved only hours earlier.

In the end, Elizabeth would shame herself to admit she took a cowardly response to her hosts. She packed hastily, confirmed travel plans with her aunt and uncle, and wept once more before lunchtime. Once they were prepared, her explanation finally came due.

"Mr. Darcy, sir, I must speak with you and Miss Darcy if you have a moment."

Mr. Darcy nearly scoffed at Lizzie's request, as if she had not seen both brother and sister manning the guest wing of the house in wait of news all morning.

"Oh, Lizzie, are you alright?" Miss Darcy was quick to step in, still ignorant of the tension between her brother and Miss Bennet. She had not yet been informed of the events in the library last eve.

"I am afraid an urgent family matter has come up, and we must go to London at once. We are sorry we were not able to express our gratitude more, as we are all very thankful for your hospitality." Miss Bennet said this in a concerningly formal manner. The light she brought to Pemberley dimmed ever so slightly.

"Is someone ill?" Mr. Darcy pried bluntly.

"Fitzwilliam!" Georgiana exclaimed, surprised by her brother's outburst.

"No, sir"

"Is it matters of estate?"

"No, not really." Elizabeth felt her ire rising at the man's overbearance.

"But it must be grave matter indeed, madam, for you to travel in such conditions, with wet roads and your uncle still bedridden." Mr. Darcy's voice could not help but rise. Incensed by his inability to help Elizabeth or prevent her from leaving.

"My uncle is well enough to travel, Mr. Darcy"

"But it is grave, Miss Bennet?"

"Yes, it is"

Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth shared a long look. Elizabeth felt her chest deflating at the momentous finality. Mr. Darcy fairly shook with repressed emotion. A chance of a lifetime together– lost twice. It could hardly be born.

She curtsied low and was gone.