The lead not only reenergized Darcy and Richard to move quickly to Cheapside, but as soon as Mr. Bennet understood the unfortunate connection to Georgiana and the length of relationship that Wickham and Mrs. Younge shared, there was no stopping the eldest gentleman. As soon as the carriages were ready, he departed with Darcy at once in one direction with Mr. Gardiner and Richard heading in another.

The preceding days' efforts were not made in vain. They knew now which parts of London Wickham and Lydia were not in, so this helped narrow the field well enough. After bribing the right people, Darcy was able to track down a Mrs. Younge who owned a small inn in the East End. As soon as they secured a general address, they departed at once.

Leaving the carriage on a main street, Darcy and Mr Bennet walked through the crowded streets, sometimes asking for directions with the promise of a few shillings in return. Finally, they came to a doorstop marked as nightly accommodation, and Mr. Bennet knocked immediately.

The door opened, but as soon as the woman there saw Darcy, she gasped and tried to slam it back in his face. Anticipating this reaction, Darcy unceremoniously pushed his way inside, followed closely by his father-in-law. The door closed behind them and the woman scowled at them. "Mrs. Younge," Darcy said coldly, removing his hat.

"He's not here," she replied haughtily.

Mr. Bennet quirked a brow. "To whom are you speaking, ma'am? I fear I did not hear a name."

Mrs. Younge narrowed her eyes at him a moment before crossing her arms across her chest. Darcy took a moment to sit on a stool by the door, his hat between his hands. "Mrs. Younge, you obviously know whom I am after and the reason for my expedition. This is Mr. Bennet, the young woman's father, whom I believe is also under this roof. We would like to inquire after her and her well-being."

Mrs. Younge glared for a long moment before answering. "She's well enough. Quite a mouth on her, I daresay." She glanced unapologetically to Mr. Bennet a moment before looking back to Darcy. "As I said, he isn't here, nor is she."

"But you know where we can find them."

Her silence spoke volumes.

Darcy stared her down silently as he slowly removed his wallet. He extracted several notes and gestured toward her with them. Mrs. Younge scoffed. He added several more notes, and she turned her face away dramatically. Still more notes, but the woman angrily lashed out. "I will not tell you for all the money you may draw from that thick wallet of yours, Mr. Darcy!" Her face was red and she was trembling, her chest heaving.

Darcy was beginning to lose his temper, but in that moment, Mr. Bennet spoke up softly to her. "What is he to you, madam?"

Mrs. Younge stopped short of her continued reprimand of Darcy and looked to the older man. "I know not what you mean." She laughed harshly. "Mr. Darcy very well knows we were acquaintances at Pemberley. What an odd question, sir." She indelicately snorted.

Mr. Bennet took a step toward her, his voice remained soft. "I gather an alternative, madam. I recognize a very distinct glint in your eye at the sound of his name. A glint I've recognized from dozens more before you." She turned to him, suddenly fearful. "A look of hope and of love."

They stared at one another a long moment before a trail of a few tears streaked down her face silently. Darcy remained still as Mr. Bennet nodded sadly. "I know not what he promised you, madam, but you must trust me when I say that he will not follow through. We have scoured this country to save my daughter, facing countless poor souls he promised his heart to, with looks very similar to yours." He took another step forward before adding quietly, "He will not follow through. But please, Mrs. Younge, please assist me in finding my daughter. She may be stupid and naive, but she is young and my child. Help me and I will make sure that he never sullies your doorstep again with his lies and falsehood."

Mrs. Younge's chin trembled a moment before she took a deep breath and turned quickly from them. They watched as she impatiently wiped her eyes before turning back and glaring at Darcy once more. She held out a hand toward him, and haughtily took the previously proffered notes in her hand. Gulping one more time, she finally whispered. "They are upstairs. Room three."

Mr. Bennet sagged at the confirmed information. He looked immediately as if he may not be able to stand upright any longer, but he managed to give Mrs. Younge a deep bow before he and Darcy marched up the stairs.

They were at a literal standstill. After the initial shock and anger of interrupting their refuge, Lydia sulked in a corner with her father as she painstakingly packed her suitcase, whining throughout. Only the promise of marriage to her dear Wickham spurned her to do even that.

Darcy and Wickham faced one another silently. Wickham lazily lounged in an armchair, grinning mischievously to Darcy, who stood across from him, unmoving. Wickham laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back on the legs of the chair. "What of it, Darcy? Why should you care that Lydia chose to be with me rather than some simpering fool in Meryton?"

Darcy scowled. "I care because she is my wife's sister and you have not yet married her."

Wickham's grin grew. "And you wish for me to wed this girl, and bond you and I as brothers in the sight of God and man. Darcy, I'm touched." He held a hand to his heart dramatically.

Darcy clenched his teeth hard, unaware he was close to cracking a few from the strain. It was not lost on him that Lydia's marriage to the scoundrel would indeed tie him to Darcy and Elizabeth forever, but the country was vast - he only hoped it was vast enough to banish Wickham somewhere far, far away.

"You will marry Miss Bennet and you will do so at the earliest possible date."

"I do not think I will, actually."

"Cut to the chase, Wickham. Name your price."

Wickham pretended to think hard for several long moments, scratching his chin while also smirking. Darcy did not react, familiar with his shenanigans, but his patience was wearing thin. During their silence, Lydia continued to whine that she wished to marry at Longbourn in front of everyone, but Mr. Bennet ignored her.

Wickham tapped his toe against the floor, and Darcy fought hard to roll his eyes. "Ah!" Wickham cried, grinning to Darcy. "Twenty thousand pounds and a house in Mayfair. It need not be in Grosvenor Square, but very close to it." He smirked even more deeply, knowing exactly how outlandish the request was.

Darcy waited a beat before replying. "This is my counter offer, and know this: I will not negotiate it further, so you may take it or leave it." Wickham's eyes became hungry with greed and anticipation. "I shall purchase a commission in our Majesty's army for you at a station within England of my or Colonel Fitzwilliam's choosing." Wickham rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "I will grant you ten thousand pounds, in addition to Miss Bennet's sizable dowry, and I will pay off your trail of debts. And in return, you shall never cross paths with me or my family again."

Wickham grinned again, rocking back and forth on the legs of the chair in thought. When he was ready, he slammed it back down and leaned onto the table between them. "And however will I achieve this when you and I are to be bonded forevermore?" Wickham scoffed with a chuckle. "Of course it was Lydia's rather new and large dowry that enticed me to begin with, knowing you wouldn't be far behind with those deep pockets of yours. You have only yourself to blame, you know. Oh, and perhaps Elizabeth."

Darcy involuntarily twitched at her name. "Leave Mrs. Darcy out of this. She is no more to blame for your actions than myself nor anyone else. Take the offer, Wickham, or face the consequences."

Wickham quirked an eyebrow up in interest. "Oh, there are consequences? Please do tell, Darcy. I am absolutely dying to hear this."

Darcy arched an eyebrow of his own and leaned forward onto his hands. "If you were to foolishly deny my very generous offer, then that will leave me with only two choices, each depending on the level of my desire to banish you from my sight." He waited a beat for this to sink in before continuing, extracting several pages of paper from his coat pocket and leaning it onto the table. "I have acquired a list of your debts, each signed, dated, and itemized by the injured party." He had the pleasure of watching the color slowly leech from Wickham's face. "Each very intent to press charges and send you to a debtor's prison for the rest of your days." Darcy conveniently left out that each debt had already been paid, but he had the forethought to keep a paper trail for this exact purpose.

Wickham found his voice and waved a hand, unimpressed. "Idle threats, Darcy."

Darcy more than happily opened the list and began to read. "Mr. Edward Jones, St. Augustine's Pub, London, eight pounds, six shillings. Mr. Terrance Biggins, Inn at Fleet Street, London, twelve pounds sixty. Mr. and Mrs. Darius Goddard, owners of the -"

"Alright, Darcy!" WIckham yelled, causing Lydia and Mr. Bennet to still. "You've made your point. You have found my past transgressions and aim to use them against me. You need not go on."

Darcy grinned dangerously then. "Oh, but I do mean to go on, Wickham. You see, I have acquired a second list of those you've slighted, but this one consists of several young women whom you bedded and abandoned, many of whom have born your bastards. Their families are very interested in finding the man who has destroyed their daughters' reputation, and they are willing to testify to banish you to Australia on the very next ship."

Wickham, ashen and in a cold sweat, swallowed hard, and thought fast. "Very well. I accept your offer, Darcy. I shall marry Lydia."

Darcy stood tall again and pocketed the papers. "You shall marry her immediately in the company of myself and Mr. Bennet. And you will not see a sixpence until then."

Mr. Bennet gestured to Darcy that Lydia had finally finished packing and he gave him a nod. Mr. Bennet and his daughter moved to leave the room, but not before Lydia tearfully embraced her dear Wickham goodbye until they could be together again. After much too long, they finally left and Darcy was alone with Wickham.

Darcy retrieved his hat, eager to leave as well. "You stay has here been paid for the next week. Do not think of leaving before we confirm all the details. I shall return tomorrow."

Wickham, his swagger returning, stood and grinned. "Why Darcy, why would I run from such a generous offer? I shall begin anew with my new wife at my side. She does dote on me, as it were." He paused a moment before adding viciously, "I do hope you can claim the same."

Darcy glared at him a moment, not rising to the bait. He turned to go, but Wickham was not yet done. "Oh, and Darcy? There is something else I would like you to see."

Darcy entered the carriage, unsure how exactly he arrived there, immune to Lydia's whines and cries of injustice. They rode quickly back to the Gardiner's home, the bottom of his stomach in his knees.

Mr. Bennet looked at him curiously. "Are you alright, son?"

Darcy slowly turned, blinking several times before silently nodding, but nothing could distract him from what just played out.

"Oh, and Darcy? There is something else I would like you to see."

Darcy huffed impatiently. "It can wait until tomorrow, Wickham. I have much to do before your impending nuptials."

Wickham's grin turned wicked. "It will be just a moment." He walked over to a desk and withdrew a thick stack of letters. Thumbing through them, he took one and placed it within his waistcoat before sauntering back to Darcy. He shoved the remaining papers toward him.

Darcy did not look at them, bored. "I care not for your correspondence, Wickham."

The grin slowly curled into a wide, taunting smile. "You will care once you realize the author." Darcy rolled his eyes, but took the outstretched letters. As soon as he read Wickham's name on the outside in a familiar, feminine script, ice ran through his veins.

Wickham nodded in relish as Darcy turned over page after page, revealing weeks of correspondence between Elizabeth and Wickham. Flowery letters of their past friendship and how horrific their circumstances were now transpired. Elizabeth's words to Wickham were long and thoughtful, filling page after page to Wickham and how she mourned the loss of him.

Darcy attempted to breathe from his nose, but it was becoming increasingly harder to keep his countenance. Wickham was looking for a reaction, he knew, and Darcy was determined not to deliver it.

As blandly as possible, Darcy thrust the letters back to Wickham and replied simply, "It comes of no surprise to me that she wrote to one of her many friendships. Mrs. Darcy is an avid correspondent and a doting friend. I would not anticipate any further notes from her, however, given how the last few weeks have played out with her sister."

Wickham shook his head and refused to accept the letters in return. He simply patted the remaining note in his chest pocket and continued to grin. "I shall cherish but one letter from dear Elizabeth; you may keep the rest as a reminder of whom she would have chosen if our cards played out correctly." Before Darcy could inquire, Wickham removed the final letter and read it out loud:

Dearest Mr. Wickham,

I do hope you can find a place in your heart to forgive me. When I think of you finding out about my marriage to Mr. Darcy, I admit I cringed outwardly. To learn that I betrayed you as you were off serving our King's Majesty, and I, a foolish girl, married your sworn enemy, a man so hateful as to deprive you of your livelihood - I can barely stand to think of it.

Please do tell me that you are not in too grave a situation. It breaks my heart to think of you so when what just seems like yesterday, my heart thudded to another beat entirely for you.

I pray you find happiness and I do hope we can continue to be friends. I know not if we will ever see one another again, as I do not believe Mr. Darcy will allow me to see anyone of my past. He thinks so little of them and so highly of himself and his own circle. What I can offer are some funds to help you along your way. Mr. Darcy may be contemptuous and cold, but he is very rich, and so I will send you what I can. Enclosed is twenty pounds to start.

Please forgive me. I hope to hear from you again.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth

Darcy knew Wickham was speaking to him again, but he could not make out the words. Blood rushed past his ears and he could think only of Elizabeth and her disdain for him. He knew not how she felt of him or of Wickham today, but as late as just a few weeks ago (according to the final letter in the stack), she wrote to Wickham and sent him money. Money and words of encouragement to continue swindling those around him.

"I would hate to call this bribery, Darcy. We go back so very far together, and, as you requested, we shall be connected until our final days," Wickham drawled, the letter now safely back in his chest pocket.

Darcy swallowed hard, finally digesting the words. "Get to the point. How much is it that you want for that letter?" Elizabeth's foolish decision to send money to Wickham was bad enough; if this letter was leaked, along with Wickham's trail of transgressions, it could become very grave for his family.

Wickham shrugged nonchalantly. "Say - an additional five thousand pounds?"

If Wickham was expecting a fight, he was not receiving one. Darcy immediately agreed. "Done. I will have everything promised as soon as you marry the girl. Until tomorrow."

Darcy had to leave that room immediately. He felt as if his insides were liquified and he couldn't feel his legs. It was as if -

"Son?" Mr. Bennet asked again, alarmed now. He had never witnessed someone so pale and trembling such as Mr. Darcy in that moment.

Luckily, the carriage arrived in Cheapside. Darcy watched as Mr. Bennet and Lydia stepped out to go inside the Gardiner's home. He peered at them through the doorway. "I shall make arrangements first thing tomorrow. As soon as everything is squared away, I shall call upon you to relay the information. Good evening."

And with that, Darcy knocked on the ceiling of the carriage, indicating to bring him home to Darcy House, and Darcy could not get there fast enough.

Elizabeth and Bingley were seated in the ballroom as Georgiana and Caroline performed a duet on the piano forte. She sipped her tea thoughtfully, antsy as ever, but this afternoon she was more curious about the state of Mr. Bingley.

She took another sip and looked over the lip of her cup. Swallowing a moment, she asked, "Is there something specific on your mind, Mr. Bingley? You have become increasingly quiet over the last few days. I do hope you are well."

Bingley gave her a reassuring smile. "I am quite well, thank you, Mrs. Darcy. Something does thwart my head, but it is of no consequence. I am simply missing the steady friendship of Darcy. I do hope his business concludes soon. Tis not much fun being the only man in a sea of women."

Elizabeth laughed with him and placed her tea on the nearby table. "My father would bemoan a very same plague. You should speak with him and conspire an upheaval of the current majority."

Bingley smiled wide and nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, I would like that very much." He paused a moment before making a decision. "Actually, Mrs. Darcy, I do hope to speak to your father soon. I - "

Whatever Bingley was about to reveal was lost as a servant delivered a post to Elizabeth. Thanking him, she begged pardon to Bingley and departed to her study to read Darcy's latest letter.

Elizabeth,

Your sister has been found. She and Wickham will marry at the earliest possible convenience. I shall remain here to aid your father and uncle until then.

F.D.

Elizabeth turned equal parts relieved and confused. The weight of the world left her shoulders at the news that Lydia and Wickham would marry. Although not an ideal scenario for her sister to wed such a man, they were left with little other choice. It was the best possible option.

Darcy's letter was so short and terse, very unlike his preceding notes, asking after her and Georgiana. He must have sent this to her quickly so that she would receive the news as soon as possible. It was dated from yesterday.

Reassured, Elizabeth smiled, ecstatic with the turn of events. Darcy had pulled through, and she owed him everything. She could hardly wait to see him again and tell him how very sorry she was for her earlier judgment of him. He was the victim in this situation, and Elizabeth looked forward to their reunion where she hoped they could continue their blossoming relationship as if Lydia had never made such a foolish decision.