"Charlotte, have you heard from Lizzy?"

"What time is it?" she groaned.

"Lizzy's gone! Have you heard from her?!"

"No I haven't," she whispered. "What's this all about?"

"She overheard some things..."

"What things?"

"Caroline was spouting off! For the life of me, I don't know how..."

"Will!" she exclaimed.

"Is that..." mumbled a voice from the other side of the phone.

"Shh, go back to sleep," she whispered. "Now slowly, Will, tell me what happened?"

"Lydia's children are all fathered by Wickham." Charlotte gasped. "Caroline found out somehow and made it known..." Which reminds me I have someone to kill! "Lizzy heard it and left in the middle of the night."

"Oh God!" sighed Charlotte.

"What am I going to do?!"

"I don't know, Will." Charlotte shook her head. "Maybe she went to the house?"

"I thought about that, but she'll know that's the first place I'll look, so she won't go back there."

"Think about it... she might turn your assumptions around, figure you've already surmised that she won't go home and you'll probably look elsewhere."

"So, you think I should go there anyway?"

"Why not? What else do you have to go on?"

Darcy sighed. "Maybe you're right."

"Do you remember where it is?"

"I drove from there to the hospital, so I think I can make my way back."

"Okay."

They hung up.

*****

The drugs were affecting her as well. Elizabeth in her half-lucid state noticed a posse of black limousines parade by her one-by-one on the two-lane bypass just west of Beaumont.

"Must be a funeral for some big wig?" she mused. "But it's not even 8:00 a.m.!"

Her thoughts quickly returned to their bitter and disappointed state and the tears came flooding anew. She trusted him! He lied to me! How many others knew about it? If that bitch knew, then probably everyone else knew! Fitz? Yes, him too! He did mention knowing Lydia! Why were they hiding the truth from her? If I had known, I wouldn't have stopped choking him...

Wallowing in her misery, she did not notice that traffic had come to a standstill until almost the last possible second. Elizabeth slammed on the brakes, swerved to avoid the other cars, side-swiped the guardrail, and finally came to a screeching, sickening, grinding halt against a concrete barrier. Such a sudden deterrence threw her forward; her mouth hit the steering wheel, then she was flung backwards from the powerful blast of the airbag, knocking her into an unconscious condition.

What woke her up was not the smell of spewing gas, nor the spiraling fumes, nor the knock on the glass... it was the almost simultaneous 'ka-chunk' or the loading of cartridges from multitudinous high-powered automatic weapons and pointed with deadly accuracy at her personage.

She startled, but did not move as the car door flung open. She groaned, but did not squeal as a hard fist met with the side of her face. She grimaced, but did not sway as a hand pulled her out by her hair. She blinked, but did not speak as she was manhandled, pulled out and dragged to a limo.

While Bingley called the Weston's and Elizabeth's other friends, Darcy called the Gardiners. Then he went to see his sister.

"Gina, I have to go away for a while."

"What?! Why?!"

"I don't really have the time to discuss it."

"It's Christmas, Will!"

"I'm sorry."

"I need you here with me! I just got home!"

"I have to do this Gina," tears forming in his eyes. "Please understand?"

"I don't understand! Why do you have to leave?!"

He sat for a long moment, contemplating what he might say. "Liz is gone."

"Charles took her home already?"

"No, Charles is still here."

"Will," she touched his arm. "Please tell me what's going on?"

Darcy breathed in and out deeply. "Caroline upset her and she took off."

"What in the world did that witch say?!"

He shook his head. "She was ranting and raving about how she thought I was going to marry her and that I should throw Liz out of the house and..."

"I can't believe Lizzy took all that seriously?"

"No, she would've torn Caroline apart had she heard all that." He let out a bitter chuckle. "Caroline spilled the beans about her sister and..."

"Jane?"

"No, Liz has 3 other sisters. Caroline found out that Liz's youngest sister had 3 children by..." he held her hand, "...George Wickham." Georgiana gasped. "And that I was paying for all their living expenses."

"What?!?!?!" Georgiana snatched her hand away.

Darcy hung his head and told the entire story. It took him quite a while to calm his sister down.

*****

Mrs. Reynolds led the way. "They're in here, Mr. Bennet." She knocked.

"Come in."

Bingley stood up from his chair as he entered, but Darcy continued to stare out of the bay window overlooking the rose garden. If I'm going to be killed, I might as well take one last look around...

The housekeeper quietly closed the door behind her.

"Good afternoon, Papa Bennet." Bingley went to embrace his father-in-law.

"I took the first plane out." They released each other after a few pats on the back. Then Mr. Bennet walked over to Darcy and placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "How can I help?"

Darcy turned slightly, confusion, grief, resentment, and fear all donned in his features. "Thank you," his voice cracked. "But I'm not sure what anyone can do."

Bingley went towards the desk. Once there he pressed a button. "Mrs. Reynolds could we have something to eat... some sandwiches, etc.?"

"Yes, Mr. Bingley, I'll send them in as soon as possible."

"Thank you." He pressed the button again to hang up.

The gentlemen sat quietly, the only interruptions were the entrance of the staff to bring in food trays, etc.

Mr. Bennet finally broke the muteness. "Is Caroline still here?"

"Yes," answered Bingley.

"Good! Then I'd like to give her a piece of my mind!"

"No Mr. Bennet, let me do the honors." It was not a question.

"Will, you're not in the right frame of mind... let me?"

"Charles, I assure you that I am. I need to be able to tell Liz that I straightened the whole thing out... apologize." He got no response. "Anyway, this all has to do with her fantasies of me."

Bingley nodded, as did Mr. Bennet.

Suddenly Mrs. Reynolds voice was heard from the phone. "Mr. Darcy, Charlotte is here."

"I was told that a Mr. Brinkley was staying here?!"

Mr. Reynolds, the butler nodded, then opened the door further, "Wait right here." He closed the door behind him and went into another room and closed that door. Within moments Darcy and Bingley appeared in the hallway with the butler.

"Any news detective?"

"Are you Mr. Brinkley?"

"No, I'm Mr. Darcy, this is Mr. Bingley... any news?"

"We've found your car."

"Where?" asked Bingley in uneasiness.

"Outside of Beaumont."

"Beaumont?!" exclaimed Darcy.

The detective handed Bingley some pictures.

Bingley nodded slowly as he looked at the seriously damaged auto. "You haven't found her have you?"

"Right."

"Oh God..." lamented Darcy as he felt around for something to lean on. A wall was the nearest thing.

"We can't find the driver, er, Ms. Bennet, anywhere." Darcy quickly left the house. "But we haven't given up."

"Are there any witnesses to what happened?"

"The Beaumont P.D. are broadcasting it on TV and going door-to-door in the area the car was found."

"Thank you, Officer..."

"Detective Eliot... William Eliot."

"Eliot. Yes." Bingley shook the man's hand. "Thank you."

*****

Tensions were at an all-time high at Pemberley. It surely was not a Christmas that any of them would soon forget. Georgiana was sick with worry and feeling guilty for setting all this off in the first place. Bingley was afraid for his sister-in-law's life and for what his wife might do to him. Charlotte and the Colonel called all their contacts. Mr. Bennet cursed and paced. Darcy held an inquisition of the security team and household staff then he called in Stan Weston. On her way home, Caroline plotted revenge.

*****

Later that evening they all assembled for what would normally be called dinner, except rarely did a utensil scrape the plate nor did a tongue slurp the crystal. What at first was anger, now had turned to dread.

Just as Darcy, Mr. Bennet, and the Colonel prepared to go to Beaumont, a knock came to the front door. Detective Brandon entered the dining room and the butler closed the door behind him. Everyone stood up at the grim features that passed across the officer's face. He handed Darcy a missive. The man tore it open as everyone gathered round.

It read:

I don't think I can possibly describe the chaos that erupted in that room, but it was pandemonium to the extreme. With all the shrieks, screams, cries, expletives, groans, etc. that went spewing around, one would have thought that there was a whole camp full of Mrs. Bennet's having a fit of nerves at the same time. Panic, I could scarce say, bounced simultaneously. Frenzied would be a better word, but not quite. It was more like hysteria! Georgiana fainted, Charlotte wept, Bingley sobbed, Stan paced, the Colonel cursed towards hell and Mr. Bennet towards heaven, while Darcy barked commands to his staff. All until Detective Brandon put his fingers to his mouth and blew; he whistled a bone-chilling rendition of a police siren. All activity ceased.

"This is a good sign!" he exclaimed. He looked around at all the disbelieving faces. "At least we know she's not dead." Yet...

Darcy, Stan, the Colonel and Charlotte all had to agree for they had just been through this.

"Who's A. C.?" they all asked Darcy.

Of course, under the circumstance, Darcy was at a complete loss. His muddled befuddled central processing unit could no more power up a clue than he could utter a single comprehendible syllable.

*****

Darcy slept, or rather, he did not sleep. He walked the length, breadth, and width of the house. When he finally emerged from his suite of rooms, it looked as though someone stole into the night and pummeled him mercilessly. He felt it deserved and did nothing to disguise it all day.

The phone rang off the hook. Police were in and out. Gears cranked, fingers clicked, and brains thunk, yet no one had a hint as to who the kidnapper could be. Oh, there were theories thrown about left and right; assumptions scattered here and there; and postulations sprinkled to and fro, yet no one could fathom A. C.

Mr. Gardiner joined the fray.

"Mr. Darcy."

"Yes, Mrs. Reynolds."

"There is a Mr. Wentworth on the phone for you."

"Thank you." Darcy picked it up. "Hello, Mr. Wentworth."

"Mr. Darcy, sorry to bother you. I know what's going on, so I'll be brief. I need copies of the checks you wrote to and for George Wickham."

"I don't have them here. Stop off at my office tomorrow. My secretary should be there. No, wait! She has the week off. Call her at home. Her number is 555-3733 and her name is Anne Eliot."

By morning, Darcy, exhausted to the hilt, had hit upon something. Minor at first light-the local and county police were called in, as well as the witnesses to Elizabeth's accident had come forth. Increasing toward middlin' or afternoon-the state police were advised. A full head of steam by dinner-the FBI was on alert.

"Can I speak with you?"

"Yes Sir, Mr. Darcy!" Mrs. Annesley followed him to his study.

She waited for him to ask her to sit, but he did not. "Your services are no longer required here."

"Wh, wha... What?"

"You were always around weren't you?" he sniped. She stood; confused as hell. "When Gina was kidnapped you were there! You even made the recommendation for Ramsgate!" he sneered. "In my apartment, you were there!" he paced. "When Liz disappeared, you were there!" he glared. "I thought I knew you, but according to your fingerprints, I don't!! But what we..." Two uniformed officers stepped through another door. "...really want to know is who the hell you're working for?!?!?!"

By late evening, Darcy was on his private plane and receiving instruction to the minutest detail.

The frigid wind from far off Lake Michigan slapped at his coat as he stood on the rooftop facing God only knows what. "Let her go, Anne."

Anne looked at Darcy in a dreamy daze. "I love you, Will."

He shook his head. "You don't love me."

"I do love you," she pouted and stomped her foot.

"No. If you did love me, as you say, you wouldn't be holding my friend hostage."

"She's your lover and I want her gone!"

"She is not my lover, but I do hold her in high esteem."

"No!!!" screamed Anne. "No!" She unhooked the safety latch on her gun. Elizabeth cringed and whimpered from the cold and fear.

"Anne," soothed Darcy, but in a harried manner. "Do you really think I could ever love you if you killed someone?"

"You'll forget her soon enough. Time will make you love me. Time heals all wounds..."

"Anne. This is not you. These are not your words."

"They are my words. Whose would you have them be?"

"Catherine's."

Anne waved her gun wildly in the air. "You leave my mother out of this!"

Darcy did not back down. "You're just doing whatever Catherine thinks is best. I know you. I know you couldn't do this."

"You don't know me at all!" Anne pointed the gun at Darcy. "You never knew me!"

"Yes I do. At least I thought I did. I remember a sweet quiet girl who brightened whenever she spoke of traveling and exploring. I remember her, don't you?"

"She's long gone."

"She couldn't be. I spoke to her last year. She... you had such plans. First to the jungles of South America, then onto the bush country in Africa..."

"I..." Anne wavered a bit. "I, my mother, she..."

"Think about it Anne... This is your opportunity to do what you want to do. What you've always wanted... to get out from under your mother's thumb."

"I, I...I have to."

"No you don't."

"My mother made me promise..." whined Anne. "She said the only way you'd marry me is if I got rid of your whore."

"She is not my... She..."

"But you lived with her!"

"She was protecting me from a hit."

"Well, how were we to know that she was going to be in your apartment that day?"

"You, you mean you were the shooter?" his voice cracked.

"No, not me. My mother hired someone to do it."

"Why Anne, why?"

"You were supposed to run to my mother for help, then I could keep you with me. Forever."

Darcy shook his head. "Anne..."

"But then she showed up and all our plans flew out the window!"

"Anne," sighed Darcy. "You don't need your mother to make plans for you. You're a beautiful..." In his own way, he was not telling an untruth... I mean, some people think Kate Moss is beautiful. "...intelligent woman and I'm sure there is someone out there waiting for you who will love you and take care of you in the way that you deserve and want to be treated. Not someone you had to bribe, cajole, or coerce into marriage."

"You really think so?"

"I do. Now could you please let my friend go?"

"Your friend? She means nothing to you at all?"

"Nothing," he said with conviction. "She hid me out when I thought I was being hunted, she rescued my sister and I am forever grateful to her and will remain in her debt for the rest of my life. But other than that... Nothing."

Elizabeth let out a muffled scream from behind her mouth gag, but the warning went unheeded, because less than a moment later, Darcy was on the ground unconscious; the butt of a sawed-off shotgun, the weapon; Billy Collins, the perpetrator.

*****

No, that's not how things really went down, only a simple-minded whimpering fool would dream of such convoluted balderdash such as that... Let's try that again shall we?

Elizabeth let out a muffled scream from behind her mouth gag, but the warning went unheeded, because less than a moment later, Darcy felt the butt of a sawed-off shotgun slap him on the shoulder. If it had been any other man, or woman even, the blow might have caused serious injury, perhaps death. However, Billy Collins swung like a left-handed 3-year old at tee-ball practice. Therefore, the pansy blow only surprised Darcy, wherein he flung Collins to the ground in a slimy heap.

"What did you do that for, you imbecile?!" screamed Anne.

"He, uh, he was trying to confuse you," simpered Collins (the simple-minded whimpering fool).

"You idiot! You weren't supposed to reveal yourself, now I'll have to kill you too!"

"But, but Anne!" whimpered Collins.

"Anne," spoke Darcy. "There will be no killing here. Give me the gun?"

"No Anne, don't do it?!" pleaded Collins, stupidly.

"Give me the gun, Anne?" Darcy held out his hand.

She hesitated. "But what will happen to me?"

"I'll make sure no one hurts you," smoothed Darcy.

"He's lying Anne, don't believe him!"

"Anne, have I ever lied to you before?"

"No."

"Then give me the gun?"

Anne slowly gave the weapon over to Darcy, then all of a sudden a helicopter swooped in, a swarm of armed squadrons of SWAT teams pounced, and a bevy of men in black surrounded them. A few of them hustled Elizabeth and Darcy down the stairs to separate rooms, while the rest took care of an hysterical Anne de Bourgh Corleone and a pile of crying goo named William Collins.

In a furious sequence of events, Darcy was stripped to his waist, alleviated of the hidden microphone in one room, and praised for his good deeds. "Good job! We got it all on tape! Now we've got all of 'em! We caught the mother trying to leave through the basement!"

While in another room, Elizabeth was unbound and questioned. "You're pretty scarred up, did they hurt you? Who hit you? Don't cry? How long have you been here? Are you hungry? Do you want us to call your family? You want some Kleenex? We have a plane waiting for you, but you have to answer a few more questions..."

*****

What possibly was 3 hours of the question/answer game seemed interminable! Elizabeth was completely exhausted. After all was said and done, everyone piled out the room.

"She's in here." An FBI/MIB agent opened the door.

Darcy saw her pale weeping form huddled in a chair by the fireplace. "Liz, I..." he hesitated.

Elizabeth blankly looked at him. She pulled herself out of the chair, walked around him and out the door.

Elizabeth and Darcy were driven to the airport in one of those unmarked, but obvious Federal/State/FBI cars.

"Liz, I didn't mean anything..."

She hissed something indiscernible. Go to hell!

"I was acting."

She sneered a mumbled response. Fuck you!

After that, every time Darcy opened his mouth to speak, Elizabeth would cover her ears and turn away.

"Here's your bag, Miss Bennet," one of the FBI/MIB handed her that same overnight bag from Mexico.

"Thank you," she sniffed and stomped away.

Darcy hurriedly shouted a 'thank you' to the men and followed behind Elizabeth. He kept his distance until she turned the wrong way. He grabbed her arm, but she snatched it away.

"My plane is this way," he pointed.

They walked through the busy O'Hare airport terminal in a deadly silence.

A man in a steward's uniform walked beside him. "Mr. Darcy, it'll only take us a few minutes to gas up and then we'll be on our way."

"Thank you, Bates," answered Darcy, absent-mindedly. "Liz..." She turned and glared. "Are you hungry?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in a 'What do you think?' attitude. Darcy mumbled to himself, "Stupid question! Of course she's hungry!" Bates walked away.

Darcy led the way this time. His hand barely touching the small of Elizabeth's back to guide her down another bustling corridor, to the front door of a private club.

He turned to address the tuxedoed man. "Two."

"Two?" asked the maitre d'.

"Two," insisted Darcy. The maitre d' looked around Darcy and raised an eyebrow. Realization set in quickly. "Shit! She did it again!" Darcy ran off, weaving and bobbing through the throng. "Liz?! Liz!! Liz!!!"

"Mr. Darcy! Your plane is ready!"

"Not now Bates, I've lost her!"

"Can I help?"

"Yes. You go that way, I'll go this way!"

"But Sir, what if I find her and she doesn't want to come with me?"

Darcy shook his head. "Uh, we'll meet back here in 15 minutes. If you're not back then I'll assume you've found her, then I'll try to find you."

"And if you're not back in 15 minutes?"

"Then I'll... I don't know!" Darcy ran off again. I will conquer it this time, I will.

*****

Elizabeth had hidden in the 'Employees' lounge of the airport for more than an hour, trembling from recurrent threats tossing in her mind; threats that occurred little more than 2 days ago. And with so much time spent in a dark dank dismal dungeon, one does not forget so easily...

After slinking from the lounge, Elizabeth shifted to a locker room, a shoeshine stand, and the baggage lift area. Then she purchased a ticket to Phoenix, then Las Vegas, she hopped a train to L.A., and off to Provo on a bus before flying back to San Antonio. All this to keep them off her trail.

*****

"She ran... again!" sighed Darcy as he fell heavily into a chair.

"Maybe, she'll come home?"

"Mr. Bennet, whether she comes home or not, it's apparent that she doesn't want to see me... ever."

"I don't know, Will, I just can't see her holding you entirely responsible. It was our doing as well," inserted Mr. Gardiner.

"I believe Lizzy doesn't know what she wants right now. She's confused and just needs time to think. She's not the type of girl to runaway from things," spoke Mrs. Gardiner, who had flown down that morning.

They all nodded in agreement.

"Well, what do you suppose we do now?" inquired Mr. Gardiner.

"Go home and wait," answered Mr. Bennet.

They all reluctantly agreed and soon enough packed their belongings, bid their farewells and drove off from Pemberley to destination-home.

Somewhere in between her travels, Elizabeth had her cast removed for a slimmer sleeker model, greeted the Weston's, played with her dog, and before Mabel could dial 911, she left.

With her newfound freedom, she decided to go places she always wanted to visit without having to chase some poor slob down. However, the first stop was in Alpine to visit with the Jarvis' for a week. The other places Elizabeth visited, she stayed no more than 3 days if the flight took less than 4 hours; if it took more than 4 hours then she stayed longer. But these flights of fancy were also to take in the healing mineral waters or therapeutic treatments of some far-off resorts.

She did not call her family. But just to let them know that she was still alive, Elizabeth sent postcards to her father, Jane, Charlotte, the Gardiners, and the Weston's from the town, city, or village, depending on how she felt at the time. After more than 3 weeks, she ventured home.

He crept through the house; there was no sign of life within. He searched the back porch, again, no one. He had been here before, but the telltale signs of occupation made him giddy with excitement. There were hardly any places she could go without her car or truck, one place would be the brook. He walked the mile or so and saw the dog; Bud bounced happily.

"Hiya girl!" he whispered. "Where is she?" Bud whined and pointed her head in the correct direction. He walked over towards the shoreline and saw her resting in the water, face down.

"Oh shit! Liz?! Liz?! Liz!!" he tread hard in the water, rushed to her side and swooped her up by the shoulders. "Liz!!!"

"Ayee!!" She back-fisted him across the face to which he plummeted sideways into the cold reservoir. Elizabeth turned around quickly and readied herself for the battle with the interloper.

He emerged, but his hands hid his face as he wiped it; she took her stance. In a blink of an eye, a flurry of expletives flew from his mouth, then he followed with language more conducive to this board. "What the hell was that for?! That's the thanks I get?!" She stood motionless as he massaged his jaw. "Damn!" Darcy stumbled toward the rocky shore. "I was trying to save your life!!"

"I didn't need saving!" Elizabeth followed and picked up her clothes from a nearby boulder.

"I see that now! But how many fucking times have you come upon someone face down in the water?! I thought you had drowned!" he glared.

She glared back. "As you see, I'm fine!" Elizabeth furiously pulled her jeans over her wet bathing suit. "Now what in the hell are you doing here?!"

"I came..." he exhaled, then spoke in his normal lilt. "I came to talk to you."

"There's nothing you can say to me that I want to hear!" she spat.

Elizabeth ran blindly through the forest with Darcy and Bud hot on her tail.

It was kind of hard to run in wet clothing but after a half-mile or so, he managed to grab her arm. "Liz, please?!"

She snatched it away. "You're the last person I want to talk to!" Again, Elizabeth set to running.

"Damn it, Liz!" he followed. "It's time you knew the truth about Lydia and George! At least listen to it?!"

"Truth?! Truth?! It's too late for the truth! Everyone has been hiding this from me for so long... Why tell me now?!" she growled from the porch.

He stood on the bottom step and panted. "Because it's time."

"No, last year was the time! Five years ago was the time! But now is not the time!" Elizabeth locked the screen door.

Darcy approached the door. "Alright, if you don't want to hear it, at least let me dry off?"

"No dice! Sit it the sun."

"The sun is going down, it'll take hours," he whined.

"You have heated seats in your car, don't you?"

"I'll be electrocuted!"

She stared at him, unconvinced. But what could she do? She wasn't cruel or heartless, although... "Alright!" she unlocked the door and backed up as he came inside. "Your bags are still here, I'm sure you'll find something suitable to change into," she sniffed.

He stood dripping in the doorway, surveying the room. "Thank you."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "You do remember your way around, don't you? Or is that selective short term memory loss of yours coming around again?" she smirked.

Darcy almost laughed, but wisely did not. He nodded, walked past her and went upstairs to his former bedroom where he showered and changed. He looked into the mirror to see his jaw purpling from her punch and a reddening scratch from the padded steel splint now on her forearm. He hurried back down stairs to where he knew she would be: the kitchen.

"Liz, I..."

"I made you a sandwich," she stated coldly and with her back to him. "You can eat it here or take it with you when you leave."

Darcy was not deterred from his task; with a determined air he approached her, gently grasping her shoulders. Elizabeth nearly melted from his touch, damn near ready to give in to him, but held on to the counter for support.

Suddenly her conversation with Catherine de Bourgh blazed across her mind's eye, especially that last threat. "Let me go."

He held firm, but she did not struggle or fight. "Not until you listen to what I have to say."

She bit down on her contempt. "Alright, but you don't have to touch me to talk."

He released her. "Let's sit down?"

"I'm fine where I am, thank you."

"At least turn to face me?"

"Why?"

Darcy had several answers, but they were all selfish, so he shrugged instead. "Let's go back 11 years to Jane and Charles' wedding. You may or may not remember that it was I who brought Wickham to the reception. He was his old charming self and ingratiated himself with your family. After the wedding, you went off to college, Lydia was only 11 or 12 then and probably already infatuated with him. Four years later or by the time you started law school, Lydia was pregnant."

Elizabeth hung her head as the memory, all fresh and bittersweet, haunted her; she wanted nothing to do with her self-involved, spoiled-rotten, now-ruined half-sister.

"No one had a clue who the father of the baby was and your sister wasn't giving up any information. I wasn't involved in your family's affairs during that time though. But a couple of years later, I got a call from him letting me know he was back in town. I had been trying to locate him to give him the inheritance my father left him. I went to his apartment and saw Lydia, but still I didn't recognize her or know about their past. I found out through your Uncle Edward..." Elizabeth gasped. "He and I were finishing up on a condo project in Arlington and I was having dinner one night at their house. Your father called and although I tried not to listen, I did overhear your uncle's part of the conversation. Lydia had left her child in your parents care to go to a party, but hadn't shown up in a week's time. Just then it hit me. I didn't want to get your family's hopes up because it had been a few months since I saw them, so I said nothing and left quickly. With Fitz's help, we were finally able to track him down again for he had moved once more, and, as I suspected, there was Lydia. We made up some excuse as to why we were there and left as fast as we had come. I called your uncle and we negotiated a marriage. Since Lydia had just had her 18^th birthday, we didn't need your father's consent."

Elizabeth still had her back to him, but one could hear her grinding her teeth.

"Why? You probably ask, would we negotiate a marriage just because a young woman had left home? This is the 90's, is it not? Well, I found out that night that not only was her first child by him, but that another one was on the way. You must understand that I had given him more than 2 million dollars and that the rumors were coming in fast and furious about his dissolute and licentious behavior and his debts were huge. I knew he was going to run off and leave her without a penny towards his children and I felt responsible for the whole thing in the first place. It was my fault entirely and so must the remedy be."

Elizabeth had finally turned to face him, but said nothing.

"So we put them up in one of our new condos and I made sure that regardless of what happened to him in the future, Lydia and her children would be properly looked after, but letting the credit fall to your uncle in case the story came out."

Elizabeth swallowed hard and turned away again.

"As far as everyone knowing... No one else in your family knew about it, until that night... not even Charles. Caroline, well," he chuckled. "I've taken great pains to make sure that type of thing never happens again. Ever." Darcy waited for her to say something... anything, but she did not. "Liz, I wanted to tell you, but I needed to speak with your uncle first," he pleaded his case. Elizabeth shook her head. "Liz, I..."

In embarrassment, shame, and vexation, Elizabeth quickly exited the kitchen towards the living room. When Darcy appeared in the hallway, she held open the front door.

"Liz..." he leaned down to kissed her on the cheek, but she decidedly moved away. "I hope someday you'll forgive me?"

They stood immobile for several awkward moments. He was too busy wallowing in his own misery to see the shaking of her shoulders; he felt too dejected to notice the trembling of her lips and the soft sobs emanate therein; he was so occupied trying to not to kiss her again to discern her tears. There was so much she wanted to convey to him, but she said nothing, and at length, he left.

Hours after he had left, Elizabeth could still hear the wheels of Darcy's car churning out the gravel from beneath it. She shuddered at the thought of a lost love, but dismissed it entirely as a life-preserving measure. What was done was done and done for the best.

*****

She heard the crumbling of gravel on her driveway, alerting her that a car was approaching the house. Elizabeth peeked out from behind the living room blinds and groaned. "Aw shit!"