Author's Note: Your comments have been wonderful and some of you have made me rethink a few things in my plot line. This chapter and chapter 6 will stand as they are now, but some of my subsequent chapters may undergo a major rewrite.

There were some very funny reviews in which readers offered incentives for me to post chapters faster. Thank you for the humor, but I would never take your last dollar saved after Christmas Shopping.

I try to get updates out as quickly as possible, but my editing process is slow and tedious. I make my text editor read it back to me over and over so that I can catch the errors and improve the wording. It is probably not the most productive method of writing.

Some have commented that the story is already too long and drawn out. However, I did warn you in chapter 2 that this is not a quick read. And since it is unfinished, I cannot predict how long it will be. But I appreciate all of you who are willing to hang in there, even those who just want to skim through.

This chapter contains a bit of violence, (it is not too bad and does not last too long, one paragraph). But if you do not want to read it you can skip down to the Author's Note at the end of this post and read a short synopsis. I checked the medical terms that I used to make sure that they were used in the regency period.

This is unbeta'd. All the mistakes are my own. Please review.

Chapter 5

March 5, 1812

Alton, Hampshire

The next morning, they drove through Alton, scanning the streets and lanes for Wickham. In order to escape detection by their quarry, Darcy had brought his smaller carriage which did not bear the Darcy crest. Locating Mr. Dunlop, they introduced themselves, presented the letters of introduction, and explained their business. Darcy showed him the sketch of Wickham that he always kept in his files. Mr. Dunlop affirmed that he did recognize the man and had seen him two days ago riding through the village.

"Back a month ago er ther' bouts, 'e started showin' up 'ere ever day or so. Outfitted loik a real dandy 'e is, but shabby 'round the edges. 'e made a right pest of 'isself tryin' to get th' 'tention of th' young loidy who jus' moved into th' cottage down Chilton way. 'er manservant would send 'im on 'is way ever time but 'e jus kept at 'er when're she be in town. Then 'bout a fortnigh' ago 'e disappeared fer a spell. But now I guess 'e be back. 'e'll prob'ly be roun' later t'day. Tis usually noon afore 'e makes 'is 'pearance. 'e olways rides o'er from th' inn at Farnham or Basingstoke."

Darcy laid out their strategy for apprehending the ne'er-do-well and ascertained that Mr. Dunlop would provide assistance if need be. "Thank you, Mr. Dunlop. You have been very helpful. We will be in touch if we should need you."

They decided to settle in at the local pub for a bite to eat while they waited to see if Wickham would show up. Richard was able to procure a strategic table with a window that afforded them a wide view of the village square.

Thirty minutes into their vigil, Darcy experienced a traitorous thrill as he spotted his wife walking down the street toward the orphanage across the square. She was accompanied by her sister and a very large man. Angrily, he quelled any emotion but disgust and gave a surly grunt indicating to Richard the group on the street.

"Ah. Your bride and her party. Which one is the vixen?" Richard asked curiously. "They both look very young, like servant girls, really. I must say that neither one is attired to the standards of the wife of Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley."

Darcy grimaced, "She's the shorter brunette, and just turned nineteen. The other female is her younger sister."

"My word. I imagine she barely reaches your shoulder. Tolerably pretty, I suppose, but definitely not your usual preference which is tall and willowy. Is that why you object to her?"

"I object to her because of her total lack of principle."

Richard impatiently waved away that thought. "The orphanage is where she has been harassed by our charming villain. It looks like that is where she is headed now."

"Yes, let us keep our eyes peeled for his appearance. If we can grab him here, we can be on our way back to Farnham before dinner. That way I will not have to talk to my bride." growled Darcy.

They watched as Elizabeth, unaware of their presence, mounted the steps to the orphanage and entered the building.

"Well, no sign of Wickham. But I must say, that footman is an impressive lad. I would place a fine wager that he is a very good deterrent for our George. He always was such a coward." commented Richard in disdain.

"Yes, it is just a waiting game now."

One hour later, Darcy was in danger of falling asleep when Richard elbowed him and indicated movement down the street. Elizabeth and her party had exited the orphanage and were retracing their steps toward Chilton. The cousins once again checked the village square but saw no sign of George. After waiting another fifteen minutes, Richard stepped out of the pub to signal to the coachman to ready the carriage.

Richard and Darcy looked for Wickham along the road as they headed to Chilton, but there was no sign of him as they approached the cottage. Darcy had the driver let them off at the front door and instructed him to drive around to the rear of the building.

Richard eyed the red brick structure dubiously while Darcy studiously ignored his cousin's expression of disparagement and moved to rap upon the door. Mrs. Morris nervously opened it and inquired, "How may I help you, Gentlemen?" Then, as she recognized her employer, she quickly dipped a curtsy and stammered, "Ah, Mr. Darcy, welcome to Chilton Cottage." She stepped back to allow them to enter.

Darcy said, "Mrs. Morris, I am here on a matter of urgent business. Is Mrs. Darcy at home?"

Taking their outerwear, she responded uncertainly, "Yes, sir, Mr. Darcy. Please make yourself comfortable in the parlor while I inform the mistress that you are here." She showed them into the small parlor and then retreated.

Darcy took in the small room. It appeared to be freshly painted a creamy yellow, but the new paint did not mask the cracked plaster. There was a dearth of decorations in the room and no artwork on the walls save a passably decent charcoal of the cottage over the settee. The cushions on the chairs and settee were old and, in some places, threadbare.

Richard gave Darcy a sardonic look, as if to say, "Very shabby, Cousin."

Darcy turned away in irritation and refused to acknowledge any embarrassment at the state of his wife's residence.

ppp

Upstairs, Elizabeth heard the knock on the front door. She hoped that it was the vicar and his wife or someone else from the village instead of that troublesome Mr. Wickham. Pausing in her task of changing out of her walking dress, she strained to distinguish the voices coming up from below. However, since her room overlooked the back garden, she was unable to determine who had come calling.

She had just finished tidying her face and hair, as Mary bustled in, followed closely by Mrs. Morris. Anxiety was written across both of their faces, but Mary was the first to speak, "Oh Elizabeth. He is here. I am so sorry."

Mrs. Morris said worriedly, "Yes, Ma'am. It is the Master. And he brought another gentleman who is wearing an officer's uniform."

Elizabeth stared at the two women in consternation. "Oh no. I was hoping that he would not come."

Mary asked, "Do you want me to go down with you? I do not mind."

Resignedly, she responded, "No, Mary. I would not ask you to do that but thank you for offering. I should probably see him alone. I fear that it will be unpleasant."

Elizabeth said, "Could you please have tea brought into the parlor, Mrs. Morris? Is the fire lit in that room?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Betsy is seeing to the tea things, and I sent Theo to start the fire. It should warm up quickly. I will tell him to stay close by in case you need him."

Mary said, "And I will be in the back sitting room if you need me."

Elizabeth gave the other two women a resolute smile and led the way downstairs.

She hesitated at the door to steel herself for the coming confrontation. Then, with her head high and her back straight, she entered the parlor.

Immediately her eyes were caught and held by those of her husband. It had been more than three months since she had seen him, and it was a shock to see his handsome but unsmiling visage in her parlor. For a very brief moment, she felt a traitorous spark course through her body. But just as quickly, she recovered her poise and dipped a quick curtsy as she murmured, "Mr. Darcy."

Darcy, too, seemed to have to shake himself out of his own reverie to bow and perform the proper introductions. "Mrs. Darcy, allow me to introduce my cousin, the Honorable Colonel Fitzwilliam."

After taking her place on the settee, the cousins sat on the two chairs flanking her.

While they waited for the tea to be brought in, Elizabeth and Colonel Fitzwilliam discussed the weather, the roads, and the war with the French Tyrant. Her impression of him was favorable in that he seemed to be open and friendly. In contrast, her husband simply stared at her in his normal disconcerting manner.

She smiled in relief as Mrs. Morris and a maid entered with the tea things. After they departed, Elizabeth served them, and then, a heavy silence settled over them. Finally, in exasperation, Elizabeth gave Darcy a hard look and said, "I imagine that I can owe the honor of your presence to Mr. Wickham."

The cousins exchanged a glance and Darcy nodded in agreement. "Yes, upon receiving your letter, I came directly. Colonel Fitzwilliam was willing to come along to lend his support in dealing with the situation. I have acquainted him with the particulars concerning Wickham's involvement with yourself."

Immediately comprehending the insinuation in his words, Elizabeth raised one eyebrow at her husband, "So, you have determined that we are involved, have you? How brilliantly discerning of you, sir." She rolled her eyes and gave a bitter laugh. "I have no connection to your childhood friend. But I'll ignore your presumption for now in light of the more important aspects of this situation." Darcy flushed at the reprimand in her tone. She knew that he was probably angry that she had called attention to his veiled insult and had pointed out that he was the one who had a connection to the scoundrel. She continued, "We did not encounter him today. I believe that our new footman, Theo, has stymied his efforts to try to approach me on the streets. However, he did come by two days ago, but was, as always, denied entry." She paused, considering the situation. "I do not understand what he is about. He claims to be a good friend of yours, but any of your friends would have a fairly good idea of our estrangement and pointedly avoid all contact with me. I am very confused as to his motives." Unable to resist needling her haughty husband, she added, "Is he truly a friend of yours? He certainly lacks decorum. He has tried to force an introduction numerous times and has pounded repeatedly on my front door even when the knocker is down."

Darcy felt affronted to be accused, again, of being the miscreant's friend, so, he lashed out. "He is an opportunist and may see in you a kindred spirit."

Flames of anger danced in Elizabeth's eyes as she returned her husband's glare. "You are all that is charming, Mr. Darcy. Based on your witty comments, I assume that your cousin is privy to how our marriage came about." She looked at Richard and raised an eyebrow in question. At his nod, she proceeded, "Well, know this: I am done defending myself to you or anyone else about what occurred back in November. I do not know how things transpired as they did or how I managed to be found in such a scandalous condition. Furthermore, I know that you do not believe me. But I no longer care what you think. You have proved yourself to be unwilling to entertain any other explanation than the one that paints me as the perpetrator of the compromise. Therefore, I see little merit in dwelling on that subject. Accordingly, let us deal with the business at hand and stop hurling insults and barbed words that will never solve anything. Once this problem is taken care of, you and I can get as far from one another as possible and carry on with our separate lives." With her heart racing in indignation and her hands shaking in anger, she willed herself to breathe deeply in order to calm down. It was frightening how Fitzwilliam Darcy could destroy her peace of mind.

Richard gave his cousin a scolding glare and jumped in before a furious Darcy could lob more canon fire on the burning house. "Mrs. Darcy, you are correct. Our purpose here today is to ensure that George Wickham will not pester you anymore. You are probably not aware that he was the son of the steward at Darcy's primary estate, and they did grow up together as friends. However, as Wickham reached adulthood, he acquired a debauched lifestyle and blamed Darcy for all that was wrong in his life. He has run up debts, ruined countless gentlewomen, and used the Darcy name to gain the trust of innocent families in order to impose on them. Thus, Darcy was found it necessary to break off the association several years ago. However, George has continued to plague the lives of the Darcys and the Fitzwilliams. He must have gotten news of your marriage and is seeking to use you against Darcy."

His conciliatory manner helped to restore her equanimity. "Heavens, what a despicable man. What can be done to make him leave me in peace?"

The expression on Darcy's face clearly showed that he cared not one wit for her peace. Seeing his countenance, Richard rushed on with the explanation of their plan to have Wickham arrested and deported for his debts.

Ignoring her husband, Elizabeth asked, "What do you need of me?"

"Nothing other than to carry on with your normal schedule in hopes that he will show himself again and we can apprehend him."

At that moment there was a knock at the front door and the three in the parlor froze.

Mrs. Morris came into the room with a questioning look in her eyes. "What would you have me do, Ma'am?" she asked tremulously.

"Is it Mr. Wickham?" asked Elizabeth.

The housekeeper nervously nodded her head in the affirmative.

Darcy locked eyes with Richard, and then responded, "Give us a moment to prepare ourselves, then you can admit him."

She nodded and closed the parlor door.

Darcy and Richard took up a position where they would be behind the door when it was opened. Elizabeth tried to appear calm as she stood to receive her guest from behind the tea cart.

They could plainly hear the exuberant greeting of Mr. Wickham to the housekeeper. It was apparent that she took her time relieving him of his hat and gloves. And then, in another moment, the door was opened and Mrs. Morris announced Mr. Wickham.

He bounded into the room saying, "Thank you, Mrs. Darcy, for receiving me. I have been so anxious to make your acquaintance. I am sure we have much in common due to our association with your husband." He was so intent on reaching for her hand that he did not hear the door close or sense the men behind him.

She allowed him to bow over her hand but quickly drew it back as she responded, "Mr. Wickham, I'm afraid that up until now, I was not in a position to receive gentleman callers since my husband was away."

He gave what she supposed was his most winning smile. "Well, I am glad you have made this concession in allowing me admittance to your lovely parlor."

She looked at him in feigned surprise. "Why, no concession is necessary, Sir. My husband is here, as you see behind you, so you are quite welcome."

Wickham spun around with a horrified expression on his face. He visibly paled upon seeing Darcy and the Colonel barring his way of escape. Quickly schooling his features, he adopted an air of confident nonchalance. "Darce! Richard! What a surprise. I was under the impression that you had left Mrs. Darcy in need of commiseration due to your protracted absence. I was very anxious to give her someone to lean on during your time away."

Darcy grimaced. "How kind. What business do you have in Hampshire? I know what an industrious person you are. This seems like an unlikely county for you to hang about. I have only been married for the last few months. How did you find out about my wife's need for support?"

Wickham smirked, "I happened to be visiting a friend in Meryton and was introduced to the lovely Lydia Bennet. She was so sweet and open about the goings on in that quaint village. She knew that I could be trusted with the whole story of your romantic rush to the altar. I was able to deduce the reason behind your marriage. However, what led me to desire to render aid to your poor wife was the news that she was on her own in the wilds of Hampshire. And you know me, Darce, I never miss an opportunity to help women that you have left unprotected."

Knowing that George was alluding to his sister Georgiana and her near elopement, a furious Darcy lunged toward Wickham only to be stopped by the restraining hand of his cousin. "Calm down, Darcy. He is just trying to get a rise out of you." Darcy gave Wickham a thunderous glower but nodded to his cousin and resumed his position against the door.

Wickham sneered, "I imagine you went to a lot of trouble to keep all the details of your marriage out of the newspapers. It must be worth a great deal to you and the Fitzwilliams to bury the truth of your hasty nuptials. I wonder just what you would be willing to give to keep this thrilling tale quiet."

Darcy growled, "A lot less than you would imagine. You have miscalculated if you think that you know something about me that will bring you one more pound of Darcy money."

George laughed, "But Darce, you forget. I have studied you for years. I know what sets you off. Your bloody pride is more important to you than anything. You had rather walk on hot coals than become fodder for the gossips of society. I would say that this story of how you acquired your sweet bride is worth a great deal. And I am willing to negotiate to keep your concerns out of the newspapers and drawing rooms of London."

Richard broke in with a bark of laughter, drawing the attention of the smug Wickham. Then he stated in a predatory manner. "Well, Wickie, we have no need to negotiate with the likes of you. For there is nothing to tell, nothing to keep quiet about, nothing to be concerned about. But now you, dear George, on the other hand, have much to be concerned about. Is that not right, Darcy? Wickham has a huge load of concerns."

Darcy, feeling the relief of finally dealing with the reprobate before him, cracked a frosty smile and said, "Yes, Colonel. Wickham is carrying a back-breaking number of worries and concerns. I believe we tallied his concerns to add up to close to one thousand pounds." He paused to give Wickham time to understand what they alluded to. "Yesterday, we met with the local magistrate, and he expressed his great desire to help you to bear that burden."

Wickham's insolence vanished to be replaced by alarm. "Darcy, what are you saying?"

Richard answered for him, "Darcy has been buying up your debt since we were all at Cambridge for such a time as this. We both feel that you need a lesson in accountability."

For Wickham, alarm had quickly turned to fear. "Darcy, I was your father's godson. I was his favorite. You would not dishonor his memory by calling in my debts. You could never do that to me, your old playmate. It would break the old man's heart to see you treat me so abominably."

"Sorry, Wickham. But I have given you ample opportunity to redeem yourself. I can no longer allow you to be a threat to the honest people of England. I am sorry that it has come to this, but you have gone one step too far."

During the discussion between the men, Elizabeth had not moved from her position behind the tea cart. She had barely dared to breathe due to the tension in the room. As she watched the changing expressions of the men as they traded barbs back and forth, she hoped that Darcy and the Colonel knew what they were doing. However, when she beheld the sudden desperation in Wickham's eyes, she feared what he was capable of.

Richard made to move toward him saying, "Now George, do not make this any more difficult than it has to be. If you cooperate, we will request deportation instead of prison."

With no warning, Wickham suddenly sent the tea cart flying as he grabbed Elizabeth's arm and pulled her in front of him. He spun her around in such a way that she ended up pressed against him facing the two shocked cousins. Terrified, she tried to scream but one of his hands tightened around her throat like a vise, cutting off her air. His other arm was wrapped around her middle. She kicked and fought, but the more she struggled against him the tighter his hand pressed against her windpipe and the more desperate she became to breathe. Above the increased roaring in her ears, she heard shouting but could not make out what was said or who was doing the shouting. Her vision began to go dark as the events in the room receded, and then, she surrendered to oblivion.

Darcy watched in horror as he saw Elizabeth go limp in Wickham's grip. Richard had unsheathed his sword and was pointing it at Wickham while shouting for him to release her.

George growled out, "Back off, Richard, or she dies. Open the door and move away."

As they cautiously did so, he began to edge toward it, dragging an unconscious Elizabeth with him. He managed to back into the hallway while holding her in front of him and keeping his eye on Darcy and Richard.

Darcy ground out, "You will never get away with this, George."

Richard added, "You have just made this so much worse on yourself."

"We shall see. I have always managed to stay one step ahead of the two of you." And with that, Wickham flung the unconscious Elizabeth in the path of the unprepared men in a great rush and made a dash for the front door. However, to his chagrin, he ran directly into Theo, who without hesitation delivered a powerful, well-placed blow to George's jaw sending him tumbling backward onto the floor where he lay still and insensible.

At once, Darcy flew to Elizabeth's side, while Theo and Richard took charge of Wickham. Darcy was relieved to find that she was still breathing and called for Mrs. Morris. As the frantic housekeeper scurried into the room, Darcy checked her neck for further damage.

A horrified Mary rushed to Elizabeth's side and cried, "What have you done to her?"

Darcy picked up Elizabeth and fairly shouted, "I did nothing. Wickham strangled her. Show me to her room." On the way up the stairs, he hurriedly told them how Elizabeth had been injured. After laying her on the bed, Mary, Sarah, and Mrs. Morris took charge and Darcy backed out of the room.

After they closed the bedroom door on him, he sprinted back downstairs where Richard and Theo were standing over Wickham in the entry hall. He asked them, "Has anyone sent for the doctor?"

Richard nodded his head grimly, saying, "Frank Morris just left. Fortunately, the apothecary lives on this side of Alton and should be here directly. Frank will also alert Mr. Dunlop that we need a place to secure our prisoner. I will not allow him to slip out of our grasp this time."

Darcy's nerves were at a fever pitch and his heart was still pounding. He stared down at his old childhood companion in loathing and disgust. Theo and Richard were already busily binding Wickham's hands and feet. Needing some activity while he waited for the doctor, he helped them to tighten the ropes. As they completed their task, Wickham revived and began to swear at them to release him. Theo regarded the belligerent prisoner for a moment and then stuffed a gag in his mouth and secured it in place silencing him quite effectively.

As the prisoner continued to struggle against the bindings, Theo leaned down close to his face and said harshly, "You'd best lie still, unless ya' want to meet m' fist agin." Immediately, Wickham ceased his writhing as he warily eyed the young giant standing over him.

Frank returned with the local apothecary who looked in some confusion at the man tied up on the floor. Darcy introduced himself and explained what had occurred as he led him up the stairs.

While the apothecary examined Elizabeth, Darcy paced in the small hallway outside her room. He was still so anxious and angry. He had never been so affected as when he saw Wickham squeezing the very life out of Elizabeth. The moment when she lost consciousness kept replaying in his mind. He could not believe that everything had gone so incredibly wrong. He and Richard had been confident that they could control the situation, and Wickham had never been one to resort to violence. It had not occurred to them that anyone would get hurt, especially a gentlewoman under their protection.

The apothecary took a good half hour in his examination before stepping out into the hallway with a grave look on his face. Darcy asked anxiously, "How is Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Howard?"

"I am sorry to say that the injuries to her larynx and trachea are serious. The bruising is significant, and swelling in the next twenty-four hours could impair her breathing. She will need to be monitored closely to ensure that it does not become acute. I have a receipt for a poultice that will help to give her some relief. Small sips of water, tea, or broth are all that she will be able to handle until she is out of danger. Fortunately, she had already regained consciousness when I arrived, which is encouraging. I do not think that she was deprived of air long enough to have any lasting impact on her cognitive abilities. However, I will need to remain tonight in case she does have breathing difficulties. There is a procedure that I can perform if the situation reaches a crisis."

"Should I send for my London physician?"

"If you wish, sir. However, I doubt he could arrive before tomorrow, and tonight will be the most critical as far as her breathing is concerned," replied Mr. Howard. "At least, let us see how she does through the night."

Darcy nodded and then asked, "If she is able to heal from the injury, will there be any lasting effects?"

"No. I expect her to make a full recovery. Her voice will take some time to return to normal. She will need to refrain from speaking for at least a week."

"Of course. Thank you. Do you require a room? This is a small cottage, but I am sure that the housekeeper can accommodate you."

"No. I will only need a chair positioned by the patient's bed. I am quite accustomed to sleeping while sitting up."

"Whatever you need, we will provide. Thank you."

"You may go in, but she cannot speak, and she must be allowed to rest. I have administered a very small amount of laudanum, just enough to allow her to relax. Her injuries are causing her a great deal of pain."

As the doctor went downstairs to confer with the cook about Elizabeth's poultice, Darcy knocked lightly on the door to Elizabeth's room. Mary opened the door a crack. Darcy asked, "Is she awake? May I see her?"

She glared at him for an uncomfortable moment then said, "You should have protected her. I hold you responsible."

He responded guiltily, "I hold myself responsible."

She nodded grudgingly and opened the door wider, allowing him to enter.

Mrs. Morris was carefully helping Elizabeth take a few spoonfuls of tea. That completed, the housekeeper, the lady's maid, and the sister left them alone.

Elizabeth eyed him warily as Darcy sat nervously on the edge of the chair next to the bed. Already, bruising was apparent on her neck. Her eyes appeared bloodshot with a suspicious shine. "Elizabeth, are you in much pain?" She shrugged but indicated that her throat hurt. He grimaced, seeking words to express his remorse at what had happened to her, "I regret what occurred and am deeply troubled that you were injured. I underestimated how desperate he would become and to what lengths he would be willing to go in order to escape. Do not fear, we will do whatever is required to regain your health. I plan to send for my physician from London and will stay close by until I am assured that you are on the mend."

However, before he had finished speaking, he saw her eyes close and realized that she had succumbed to the laudanum. He studied her face as she sank into a troubled sleep. Her long, thick eyelashes were swept down against her cheek, her full lower lip was turned down in a pout, her face was ashen, and her outline under the counterpane emphasized her slight form. Darcy was overwhelmed with how young and vulnerable she looked.

For an indeterminate amount of time, he sat there gazing at this young woman who inexplicably had become his wife. He recalled that at the beginning of their acquaintance in early September, he had admired her and had been drawn to her lively wit and sweet archness of manner. Her fine, beautiful eyes had been mesmerizing. And now here she lay, his very young wife, just three years older than his sister, injured because of his failure to control Wickham.

As the shock and acute anxiety of the last hour subsided, he began to brood over how their marriage had come about. His disappointment at discovering her true character had been great, and yes, he had felt that his anger over the compromise had been justified. Nevertheless, seeing her in such a hurt and defenseless state made it impossible for him to summon his habitual feelings of indignation and resentment. She looked the very picture of innocence. Thus, he sat staring at her sleeping visage in great perturbation of heart and mind. As the violent scene played repeatedly through his mind, he allowed himself to question his assumptions about what had occurred between them. Was it possible that he had been wrong to blame her for their forced marriage? Yet, there was no other explanation for what had transpired at Netherfield last fall. He could make no sense of it.

Author's Note: If you did not want to read the last chapter, here is the synopsis of what occurred: Wickham shows up shortly after Richard and Darcy arrive at the cottage. When they confront him about his debts, George feels threatened. So, he uses Elizabeth as a human shield as he tries to escape. In the process, he chokes her into a state of unconsciousness. However, as Wickham tries to flee, he is stopped by Theo. Elizabeth's throat is badly injured by his chokehold. A doctor is sent for, and she is given laudanum and monitored for swelling that might impair her breathing. Wickham is tied up and transported to the blacksmith's holding cell. Darcy is conflicted over his feelings of resentment over the compromise and his feelings of guilt that he failed to protect Elizabeth.