The humble estate of Longbourn fell silent as most of its inhabitants went off to their beds. A one Miss Elizabeth Bennet, however, stayed in the parlor to read. She looked around the especially dimly lit room to make sure no one would watch in her act of masochistic torture as she forced herself to read once again that which caused her so much pain. She got up, slowly crossed the room, and picked up a seemingly random book. She opened it only to reveal an envelope which she quickly grabbed and went back to where she was seated.

An abnormally large tear ran unhurriedly down the striking face of Miss Elizabeth. Though she did not cry immensely on the outside, the very depths of her soul were wailing. His beautiful handwriting now had several spots that were blurred due to the repetition of her tears on that letter as she often cried when she read it. “Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last night so disgusting to you” she read, for the umpteenth time since she initially received the letter. Oh how she wished he would repeat those sentiments until the day she died! Surely then she should die but the happiest of women.

Had she not been trying to be quiet, she would have slapped herself most thoroughly at these thoughts. She knew, after their encounter two weeks ago, he would never in fact return the deep love she now was forced to endure. No, from now on he would look at her with a feeling of contempt due to the horrible words she had said to him at his proposal. She wept again, this time openly and bitterly. How had she been so ridiculous?

Upon first reading said letter, she had realized just how deeply she cared for Mr. Darcy. Fitzwilliam. He had only been trying to do right by his friend! She could see now that Jane was not always one to show her innermost emotions. She could not fault him for believing Jane to be indifferent to Mr. Bingley. She herself believed it at first. Oh, and then her accusations involving the charming Mr. Wickham, how had she been so foolish as to believe his web of lies? Now she could see Mr. Darcy was not the monster she had once believed him to be. He was a kind, genteel man, and he had loved her. Now, only in the aftermath of this disaster, did she realize, she loved him too. “Hindsight is always twenty-twenty is it not?” she asked herself sullenly.

Mr. Darcy, she thought, was probably sleeping comfortably in his estate known as Pemberly. Elizabeth had never seen it but had heard of its splendor. She thought of him, slumbering peacefully, not a clue in the world that Miss Elizabeth Bennet existed. He had probably already found another woman upon which to bestow his affections. Elizabeth was snapped out of these thoughts at the salty taste of warm blood in her mouth. She had bit her tongue lost in these thoughts.

She finally retired to her room, knowing it would be another restless night. She knew she would never sleep well again unless it was in the arms of one Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. If only she could tell him how she felt, she would do anything. He would probably never speak to her, but then at least she would know. She wouldn't have to deal with the uncertainty of knowing not whether or not to hope.

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At Pemberly, one Mr. Darcy pitched a vase against the wall. He was further than drunk; wallowing in the rejection he had felt for the past three weeks. Perhaps Miss Bennet had been accurate in her depiction of him. He was proud and uncivilized, but mostly, he was a fool. No one as marvelous as Miss Bennet, Elizabeth, would ever want someone like Fitzwilliam Darcy. He poured himself another glass of brandy as he saw Ms. Reynolds coming up to clean up the mess the vase had made. She had become accustomed to it in the past few weeks, though no one knew what had gotten into Pemberly's normally tranquil master.

He only wished he would have shown his true character before the despicable Mr. Wickham had tainted her opinion. Then there was the case of his interference in the love lives of Mr. Bingley and Miss Jane Bennet. Oh how he regretted that now! He had been a perfect ogre. He would strive to fix that error as soon as humanly possible, perhaps by suggesting Mr. Bingley to make an offer of marriage to Miss Jane Bennet. He looked over at the freshly stirred fire, and he could have sworn it was laughing at him. Its brightness mocking the darkness he felt.

Eliz-- Miss Bennet he corrected himself would simply have to be avoided until such a time he was sure he could deal with his feelings. How did this one woman have such influence on him? He knew. It was her. Everything. She didn't treat him as most women treated him. She wasn't afraid to affront him because of his assets, his social standing, or his monetary value. She acknowledged him as the swine he was, and he cherished it. He cherished her even though she had proven she would never cherish him at her obvious disgust less than a fortnight ago.

He thought of her, at Longbourn, asleep, in a bed. He had long given up any attempt at propriety in his own private thoughts of Miss Bennet. She was beautiful when she was awake, he could not imagine how stunning she looked in the peacefulness of sleep, her beautiful hair would no longer be restrained, and it would be wild and flowing. Her lips… oh those lips! They would be all his, and he would kiss her everyday. However, she would never kiss him back.

Remembering this thought, he was snapped back into reality. He resigned himself to another sleepless night in his bed that now seemed too big for one person. He knew he would never sleep well unless he held in his arms the woman of his dreams, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. If only he could convince her how earnestly he needed her, how much he was willing to change. He would do anything. He feared, however he would never get the chance. Little did he know…

Miss Jane Bennet heard her sister come into their room at a ghastly hour. She had done this several times over the past three weeks. Jane had yet to figure out why. She knew Lizzy had been quite troubled over something. It must have been dreadfully appalling indeed, for what could upset the sturdy rock that was Elizabeth? Jane was snapped out her thoughts by Elizabeth's quiet words. “Jane, did it hurt like this when Mr. Bingley” Jane stiffened at the name. She needed to be strong for her sister. “When... you found out he was leaving?”

“Yes, I do believe it did” Jane responded in a near whisper. She hadn't actually considered it in a while. “I didn't show it outwardly as you show it. Rather, I chose to keep it all inside so that Mama would not become terribly upset.” Could Lizzy's problems all be because of a man? If so... which man? Surely she didn't regret rejecting Mr. Collins' offer now. Who could possibly upset her sister in this manner?

“Jane, I suppose you and I need to have a talk”

“Yes, I do believe we do. What has gotten into you Lizzy?”

Elizabeth got up from her bed and went over to the table in the center of their room. There sat the same book. Then she thought about it. If Jane read that letter, she would know of Mr. Darcy's interference in the relationship of her and Mr. Bingley! Then she would most surely hate him. “She can't hate her brother” thought Elizabeth before correcting herself, remembering Mr. Darcy would never be related to Jane because he now hated Elizabeth. She sighed and decided it was time for Jane to know the truth. She picked up the same book, and pulled the letter from its pages.

Jane was confused watching her sister in this manner. When Elizabeth walked back over to her with a letter in her hand, Jane said nothing. Elizabeth motioned as if she wanted her to read it. “Are you sure Lizzy? Is it not terribly personal?” Elizabeth just nodded, unable to find words. Jane took the letter, not knowing the shock that was about to befall her.

“Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers” Jane read. She wondered what offers Mr. Darcy had made Elizabeth. She knew Elizabeth hated the man for his foolish pride. Had he threatened her? She knew him to be a man of great wealth and logically drew the conclusion maybe he had threatened her to get that which he wanted. That would certainly explain why she was so disturbed.

“The first mentioned was, that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had detached Mr. Bingley from your sister;—and the other, that I had, in defiance of various claims, in defiance of honor and humanity, ruined the immediate prosperity, and blasted the prospects of Mr. Wickham” Jane read in shock. Mr. Darcy had separated her from the man she loved! She continued reading. “I had not been long in Hertfordshire, before I saw, in common with others, that Bingley preferred your eldest sister to any other young woman in the country” Wait. Did that mean Mr. Bingley still loved her? Surely it did! Jane laughed at this joyous discovery.

Elizabeth watched on helplessly as she knew Jane would come to hate Mr. Darcy now. She saw the look of raw shock on her face, and knew she had read it. She was puzzled when only moments later, Jane began laughing. Why would she possibly be laughing? “Oh Lizzy! It is the most wonderful of news! This means Mr. Bingley does still love me, does he not?”

“Surely he does. He obviously did not wish to leave but was forced by the persuasive Mr. Darcy. Are you terribly mad at him?” Elizabeth watched on, waiting for the worst.

“How could I possibly be mad at anyone when I have just learned Mr. Bingley still loves me!” proclaimed Jane, a little too enthusiastically. This was a better response than Elizabeth could have ever hoped for. She joined her sister and laughed for the first time in weeks, and then she urged Jane to continue reading.

Jane read on in horror as she saw Mr. Darcy's horrid description of Mr. Wickham's true character. She didn't want to trust it, as Mr. Wickham had appeared so pleasant but she knew that Mr. Darcy was not the kind to fabricate an accounting of a man like that. Still, she kept reading. “I will only add, God bless you. Fitzwilliam Darcy” Fitzwilliam? He used his first name in writing Elizabeth even after her refusal? How very odd, she thought.

She stared at Elizabeth in open shock. Mr. Bingley loved her. Mr. Wickham was a scoundrel. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy had made an offer of some kind, assumingly of marriage, to her sister. “Jane?” asked Elizabeth after a minute of this silence. Jane looked up into the uncertainty written on the face of her sister.

“Elizabeth. This is both incredibly wonderful, and extremely disconcerting. I must return to my original question though, why have you been so exceedingly upset?”

“Oh, Jane! I was all wrong about him. I was completely wrong.” Elizabeth broke down into tears. Jane instinctively took her younger sister in her arms. “He made me an offer of marriage, he told me he loved me, and I uncivilly accused him of his offences to Mr. Wickham and to yourself, and while I do not regret standing up for you…” Elizabeth trailed on into more sobbing. She looked up into the eyes of Jane. “I love him” whispered Elizabeth “and he thinks me an uncivil wench.” She cried. Now, Jane cried too. They wept until both fell asleep.

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Miss Georgiana Darcy listened to her brother once again go on a violent rampage as he had been known to do over the past three weeks. She could not fathom what had done this to the tranquil Fitzwilliam. She walked down to the library of Pemberley where he was now picking his latest victim, a chair. She decided to go down and talk to him. He was apparently startled to see her and immediately was embarrassed that he had thrown such a fit.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment before Mr. Darcy suggested they take a seat. Georgiana was seated, followed shortly by Mr. Darcy. Georgiana was the first to speak. “What has gotten into you Fitzwilliam? You've been violent, cold, and anti-social. You've been the complete opposite of you.” This was quite bold for Miss Darcy. She had never challenged her brother's character before.

Mr. Darcy's countenance softened. “I'm sorry Georgiana.”

“What is it that has upset my brother so? Tell me so surely I can try to make it right.”

Mr. Darcy suddenly felt odd that his younger sister was trying to help him. “I assure you it is quite impossible for you to “make it right””.

“What is it? Is something wrong with Mr. Bingley or Aunt Catherine?” she said worriedly. Darcy chuckled, if only it had been that simple.

“No. It is nothing of that nature, I fear if I tell you then perhaps you should think me a fool.”

“Never, would I think my brother a fool.” She stated indignantly.

“I suppose maybe you should know the reason I have been so distant.” He waited a moment before continuing. Georgiana and Charles would be the only two people he could trust with this information. “I made an offer of marriage to a woman.” He said, sounding stiff.

“Brother, May I ask who was the fortunate lady was? For I have never heard you speak of one whom you so admired. She must be an excellent woman indeed.” Georgiana said, wondering what kind of a woman could tempt her brother to that extent; he had never so much as courted a lady.

“Yes, she is an excellent woman.” Darcy said in a distant tone. “She is beautiful, kind, talented, and outspoken…” He continued on before he realized Georgiana was clearly waiting for something.

“Well who is it?”

“Miss Bennet” he said, in a hopeless tone of voice. He watched as a look of utter horror came over Georgiana's face.

“Miss Bennet? Would you be so horrible as to take the small bit of happiness that Mr. Bingley has finally found? Perhaps you are not what I considered you to be!” She was furious. Her brother had made a proposal to the woman his best friend loved! How dare him! Mr. Darcy suddenly broke into violent laughter. Georgiana was further angered.

“Perhaps I should be clearer… Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

Georgiana was suddenly very flustered and became embarrassed at her outrage. “Oh… well, I thought you meant Miss Jane and I thought…” Darcy laughed violently at the thought. Georgiana thought he loved Miss Jane! For some reason, this struck him as incredibly amusing and he laughed as he hadn't in three weeks. Georgiana joined in. Eventually, the happiness returned to solemnity. “What happened?” she asked.

Darcy inhaled sharply as he was about to relive the pain once more. “As I said previously, I made an offer of marriage to Miss Elizabeth. His throat constricted. She haughtily refused me and called me out on what she alleged to be my faults. She was right about most of it; however some was fed by the lies of Mr. Wickham.”

“Mr. Wickham?” said the shocked Miss Georgiana.

“Yes, he filled her head with stories of how we denied him father's inheritance.”

Georgiana proceeded to use words that no young lady in her social standing, or any social standing for that matter, should ever use. Mr. Darcy would have usually been appalled but at the moment he was quite inclined to agree with Georgiana's summary of Mr. Wickham. He had aided in denying him the one thing that he sought and was now hopelessly out of grasp.

The sudden need to be alone overwhelmed Mr. Darcy. He excused himself from Georgiana's presence and went to his chambers. He had never been a man to weep before, as he considered it below the great Mr. Darcy to cry. Tonight, however, he was going to allow himself to weep as he'd never wept before. The loss seemed more painful than death. He wept himself into a deep slumber.

Elizabeth had cheered a touch by the time she received the letter from Aunt and Uncle Gardner asking her to accompany them on their Northern Tour. She read the letter once again and absentmindedly traced the word “Derbyshire”. She could not look at the word without thinking of Pemberley. Pemberley, the very name of it held so many connotations. She had a great desire to see the estate but was troubled at the thought of seeing its master, the beloved Mr. Darcy. What would he think of this uncivilized woman, and her nerve to come and trespass on his estate after what she had done?

She became fretful once more. She could not let herself get distressed yet again, she reminded herself. Yet, it would only be two days until Mr. and Mrs. Gardner were at Longbourn. She reminded herself that she would probably not even see the estate as it was a mile out of the way of their current chartered course.

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Two Days Later

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As Elizabeth was sitting quietly in the parlor, she began to hear horses. She looked out the window quickly to see her cousins bounding out of the carriage. “Miss Jane! Miss Elizabeth! Can we play?” She chuckled at this. She had always had a particular liking for the two eldest of the children, girls, aged six and eight. They loved to play with her and her sister, with Jane being the obvious favorite. Her steady sense and sweetness of temper exactly adapted her for attending to them in every way—teaching them, playing with them, and loving them.

She went to the door to see the two girls eagerly waiting for some long earned playtime after their journey. The rest of the evening continued rather blissfully. She enjoyed the Gardner's company most enthusiastically, particularly Mrs. Gardner. This lightened her spirits considerably, but still the thought of Pemberley lingered in her mind.

They stayed at Longbourn for only a night before venturing off towards the northern part of the country, towards Pemberley. They had already seen the wonders of Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenelworth, and Birmingham when Aunt Gardner learned of a certain acquaintance of hers, Mrs. Winters, residing in Lambton. They altered their way so that she could go call on Mrs. Winters after many years of not seeing each other.

Over dinner, they shared a light conversation and Mrs. Winters told Elizabeth about all the mischievous things Aunt Gardner did when she was in her youth. Elizabeth assumed they were all true as Aunt Gardner could only blush at the telling of them.

Mrs. Winters broke in “Oh yes darling, do you remember that time we went swimming in Mr. Langston's pond and the boys and I hid your dress?” Aunt Gardner colored even more deeply. Attempting to change the subject, Aunt Gardner began telling of the places they had journeyed through so far when Mrs. Winters exclaimed, “Oh you must go see the grounds at Pemberley! `Tis not but a mile or two from here and it is most splendid!” Elizabeth almost choked when Uncle Gardner broke in with “Yes, I have had quite an inclination to see the place again.” Aunt Gardner agreed with his disposition. All three looked at Elizabeth to see what she would have to say on the matter. Feeling very overwhelmed and tired, she did not wish to argue with them.

“Why yes, it would be lovely to see the grounds where Mr. Wickham grew up.” She replied, choosing to word it carefully. Though she despised Mr. Wickham, she would not tell anything that would give away the situation with Mr. Darcy. She was torn in two. She wanted to see him; she wanted to tell him everything. She didn't want to see the look on his face when he was revolted by her, either. She had faced this conflict since she received the letter asking her on the Northern Tour, but never did she think it would be real.

The next day, they bid adieu to Mrs. Winters and left towards Pemberley. Elizabeth was picking at the skirt of her dress the whole time. Aunt and Uncle Gardner were so enfolded in a discussion about the upcoming estate that they forgot about Elizabeth. When Aunt Gardner gasped, Elizabeth looked up quickly and she too gasped…

When Aunt Gardner gasped, Elizabeth looked up quickly and she too gasped for surely there was no place in all of England that was as beautiful as the grounds she was gazing at now. Now she knew what all the fuss of the estate of Mr. Darcy was about. It was as though she had stepped into a book, into the land flowing with milk and honey. The trees were numberless and there was a large pond that when the sun hit just right, looked like a glass mirror. Elizabeth's heart wanted to stop. “This, and the man I love could have all been mine had I not been so stupid.” She muttered to herself. It pained her to know that someday another woman would share the splendor of Pemberley with Mr. Darcy. She wanted to cry like an infant. However, she held it in.

They went along for a long time saying nothing, only admiring the grounds. Then Elizabeth saw Pemberley House. Her fears were realized once again. Surely Mr. Darcy won't be home in the middle of the summer, she attempted to reassure herself. They began the tour of the house with a kind looking woman named Mrs. Reynolds. Elizabeth could only look around with a kind of wonder and regret she had never experienced before.

She longed to enquire of the housekeeper whether her master was really absent, but had not courage for it. At length, however, the question was asked by her uncle; and she turned away with alarm, while Mrs. Reynolds replied that he was, adding, "But we expect him tomorrow, with a large party of friends." Elizabeth felt relief and disappointment at the same time. She had not much time for it though as they entered the next room with many miniatures of people that had lived in the house. She was immediately taken with the face of a younger Mr. Darcy. Had he always been so handsome? She felt her stomach tighten as Mrs. Reynolds asked “And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, Ma'am?". All she could manage was "Yes, very handsome.”

They listened as Mrs. Reynolds praised her master and his sister. It made Elizabeth wonder what kind of a person Mr. Darcy was outside of the company of others. Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for more. Mrs. Reynolds could interest her on no other point. She related the subject of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, and the price of the furniture, in vain.

As they walked across the lawn towards the river, Elizabeth turned back to look again; her uncle and aunt stopped also, and while the former was conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself on horseback suddenly came forward from the road, which led behind it to the stables. They were within twenty yards of each other, and so abrupt was his appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their eyes instantly met, and the cheeks of each were overspread with the deepest blush.

She was astonished. Here he was, as handsome as ever and in front of her. She could not let this chance escape her. She longed to speak with him privately. His face did not show much of his emotions so she could not know how he felt. All she could see was shock, which she understood as it was all she herself could feel. Then he did something which would pain her so deeply. He was so utterly repulsed by her, he turned his horse around and ran. Elizabeth wanted to cry.

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Mr. Darcy was absentmindedly riding his horse through Pemberley. He had gotten back a day early from his journey, and didn't wish to immediately resume responsibilities as the house's master. Georgiana had already gone to the house to see her new pianoforte and Mr. Darcy said he would be along later. He loved to marvel at the beauty that was Pemberley; he could live there for a hundred years and still not fully appreciate it. He was always discovering a new tree or a new vantage point at which to admire the pond. Yet, now he looked at it in a new light as well.

No matter how beautiful Pemberley was, it would all mean nothing if he could never share it with Elizabeth. He knew, if it wasn't her, he would never share it with anyone. It saddened him. He knew now that he would die alone, without a wife, without children. Georgiana would be the only one to mourn Fitzwilliam Darcy. Elizabeth probably wouldn't even be bothered.

He slumped in his saddle and started making his way back towards the house. He looked in the window to see Mrs. Reynolds giving a tour to a couple and their daughter. “I won't disturb them.” He said aloud. He turned around and went back towards the stables to brush down his horse. Even though this was a servant's job, he rather enjoyed the process. When he was done, he decided to mount a different horse, one more suited for pleasurable riding than long journeys. He rode back around the stables to be hit by a force more powerful than he had ever known.

He could recognize that face from anywhere. What was Miss Bennet doing at his estate? He looked at her face. It was not useful in depicting her emotions. She was as beautiful as ever and standing right in front of him. He longed to take her in his arms and carry her up to his chambers as they were conveniently here. As this highly improper thought crossed his mind, he had no choice. He had to get away from her. She didn't love him and therefore being around her would bring only pain. He decided to do something rash. He turned his horse in the other direction and went as fast as humanly possible without even saying a word.

Elizabeth watched Mr. Darcy's horse ride away, stunned. This was not the response she expected at all. He could have looked at her in disgust, thrown her out of his estate, anything would have been better than this. She needed him to know how she felt. She could not leave with that unspoken. So in a moment of rash actions, she belted towards the stables. All of this occurring, while Mrs. Reynolds and the Gardners watched confoundedly.

She grabbed the closest stallion she saw, mounted him in record speed, and went after him. Mr. Darcy was already far ahead of her by now, but she had a superior horse. He was a fine black stallion with a good build and a saddle already on him, conveniently enough. She quickly got Mr. Darcy in sight, and afterwards focused on nothing but telling him. She had no thoughts right now; she felt only the horse beneath her, the wind around her, and the man in front of her. No longer could she live with the uncertainty. It was killing her as it was, and it had only been a fortnight.

She was so caught up in this moment that she forgot about the Gardners or that she had just taken off on Mr. Darcy's horse. She forgot everything except these raw unadulterated emotions that were eating her. She felt a tear forming at her eye and she couldn't tell if it was from all the dirt Mr. Darcy's current horse was kicking up or from emotions overwhelming her.

Mr. Darcy turned around and saw her, apparently more taken aback than before. He apparently made no effort to slow down but just gawked at her in astonishment. At this point, Elizabeth didn't care. Her emotions took control over her sensibility. She had long forgotten why she was chasing Mr. Darcy; she knew only that she had to catch him. She had to tell him that she loved him. No matter his response, at least she would know.

She was so busy focusing on the current task at hand that she did not see the giant tree limb only ten feet ahead. She was going so fast she could not stop and so she braced herself as the limb collided with her head and knocked her from her horse. She landed head first on a rock, cutting open considerably the side of her face. She passed into unconsciousness as the horse ran away.

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“Why am I doing this?” Fitzwilliam Darcy asked himself. He had just run away from the woman he loved! If he had any chance of proving his civility before, it was over now. He regretted his rash actions now. He looked back to see the couple and Mrs. Reynolds, but where had Elizabeth gone? He kept riding. He needed to get away and not think about what he had just done.

He rode on for several moments by himself. Only then did he hear the sounds of a second set of hooves. He looked back in amazement. Miss Bennet was following him! But why? He could not fathom what could have made this woman come after him. He was incoherent. He was so astonished that he didn't think to slow down. He could do nothing but stare at the scene unfolding before him.

He decided to quit staring at Elizabeth and focus on where he was going. He ducked under a tree and then attempted to get his horse to slow down a bit. This was not an easy task and it took several minutes. He looked behind him again. Elizabeth was no longer there. It got eerily quiet, something wasn't right. He went back and retraced where he had been. He feared the worst, though he knew Elizabeth probably just regained her sense and went back to Pemberley.

He looked for five minutes when in the distance he saw the stallion that Elizabeth had been riding on. Its rider was no where to be seen. He began to pick up his pace in searching. He just knew something bad had happened. When he couldn't find her, he began to go back to Pemberley to get help. On the way back, under the tree, he saw Elizabeth. He realized immediately what had happened. He dismounted his horse to get a closer look at her. She was laying there unconscious with her face bleeding and yet she still looked beautiful.

Forgetting his broken heart, forgetting himself, he worried only about Elizabeth's safety. He picked her up most gently and put her on the saddle of his horse. When he had situated it so that he could ride them both back to safety, he was torn between going fast or slow. He knew if he went too quickly that Elizabeth could be injured more. He also knew she needed immediate medical help. He decided to take a steady pace, not too fast, not too slow.

When he got back to Pemberley, Mrs. Reynolds and the Gardners began to bombard him with questions until they saw Elizabeth's state in his arms. Mr. Darcy immediately had one of the servants sent to fetch the doctor. He had Elizabeth placed in one of the guest bedrooms and refused to leave her side. The doctor took nearly an hour to get there and by that time Darcy was furious. He wanted Elizabeth taken care of now. The doctor asked him to leave for a moment while he did a more thorough examination.

Darcy waited impatiently outside the door. The Gardners were watching his most curiously. All had forgotten the madness of earlier. They were only worried about Elizabeth. They heard the door come open as the doctor stepped out of the room looking grim...

“Mr. Darcy, Mr. and Mrs. Gardner, you may want to sit down.” said the doctor. This was definitely not a good sign thought Darcy. If something was wrong with her he'd never forgive himself. Had he not run off, this never would have happened.

“What is it?” asked Mrs. Gardner, fearing that she was about to be told her niece was dying.

“Your niece… she's in what we have come to call a coma.” Mr. and Mrs. Gardner apparently did not know the medical terminology so he attempted to explain it to them. All the while, their jaws dropped.

“How long will she be this way?”

The doctor waited a moment to answer, “Maybe hours, maybe weeks.” said the doctor finally.

“Can she hear us?”

“No one knows except Elizabeth.”

“We surely must take her back to Longbourn where her parents can watch over her.” Mr. Gardner stated as though addressing Mr. Darcy.

“Oh no, you are not to move her. You might upset her head even more.” stated the doctor.

“So what are we to do?”

“I suggest you leave her here. Have someone stay with her at all times. When she wakes up she might not remember where she is and it would frighten her. If she gets any worse, call for me immediately.”

Darcy felt this was an unsatisfactory response. Stay with her, hope she lives. It was not a feasible option for him. Yet, it was the only option he seemed to have. He told the Gardners that she would be welcome here until she made a complete recovery and he would see to it that she got the best medical help possible. He was in secretly in despair. He had caused all of this to happen. Because of his actions, Elizabeth, loveliest Elizabeth, might never regain consciousness. He would never forgive himself.

He went to be with her, even though she was unconscious, it was quite awkward for him. He decided just to talk. He needed someone to talk to, even if they couldn't hear him. He took her hand gently and rubbed her palm with his thumb. “I'm so sorry Elizabeth. I'm so very sorry. I'd give anything to take back what happened today.” He felt a tear escape his eye. Before he could catch it, it fell on Elizabeth's hand. Still, she stirred not.

The Gardner's left to go inform the Bennet family. It was grave indeed. Still, they knew Mr. Darcy would take care of her. He had not left her side since she had been there. He looked exceptionally disheveled. He hadn't slept, he hadn't eaten, and he hadn't even bothered to shave. The only thing he cared about was this woman. Of course, the Gardners assumed it was from a sense of responsibility. They had no idea it was from the deep love he felt for their niece.

He stayed like this for three days. He talked and talked to her, hoping eventually he would get a response. He talked to her about everything. His sister, Mr. Bingley, and even the weather, yet he did not renew the sentiments of his proposal. He supposed that would only make her want to stay in a coma longer. He talked and talked, still she did not stir. She began to look pale and sickly and he feared she would die.

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Elizabeth was desperately struggling. She knew she had hit that rock when she fell from the horse. Now, she was lying there on some bed unable to move. Her eyelids would not obey her commands to open. Her lips would not speak. She could hear, smell, and feel, but for some reason her body would not move.

She heard Mr. Darcy beside her. He apologized to her. He seemed to think it was his fault she was this way, the ridiculous man. He explained to her what was going on. She was apparently in something called a coma, her Aunt and Uncle had left for Longbourn, and he didn't know if Elizabeth could hear him or not.

Then he took her hand and though she could not move her heart went faster. She wondered if he noticed. He massaged her palm with his thumb. It sent electricity all through Elizabeth. Then she remembered that he thought there was a chance she was going to die. He didn't do this out of love; he did it out of guilt. He thought it was his fault she had hit that tree. Her heart sank. She would have to endure the continuing presence of the one who caused her so much agony. Every time he touched her, she remembered that it was not in love.

Still, she enjoyed it when he talked to her. He would speak of many things. She wanted to smile, but still her body refused. He never once said anything about love or about admiration which furthered her point. He did stay with her though, and for that she was grateful.

She decided that he must not hate her, but nor did he love her either. He felt a sense of responsibility for having caused her to become this way. She decided if she was to go through all of this for the sake of telling Mr. Darcy, if she came out of this, she was going to tell him.

It was on the third day of being this way that Elizabeth began to feel sick. Mr. Darcy told her he was worried. It was not until she thought about it for a good long time that Elizabeth figured out why. She had not eaten in three days. She willed her stomach to growl, hoping to send a message. Mr. Darcy apparently didn't notice.

It was a bright day outside, a day full of promise. The sunlight was playing through the clouds into the trees of Pemberley. Had he not been worried about Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam Darcy would have surely gone out into the woods to enjoy this day. He went and sat next to her. He grabbed her palm as he began to tell her about the beautiful day outside. He was mid-sentence when he could have sworn he felt Elizabeth's hand move. He looked down in shock.

“Elizabeth can you hear me?” he asked in amazement. She moved her fingers a little. She fluttered her eyes slightly before closing them again.

“Mr. Darcy.” she said in the faintest of whispers “May I have some water?”

He called for a servant immediately. He was so overjoyed he feared he might burst. Elizabeth had woken up! She was going to be alright. “Fetch Miss Bennet some water without delay.” The sunlight poured through the window. She tried to open her eyes again. It took her several times to adjust to the light.

She looked at him wearily. Could this woman not look beautiful? He beamed at her. Soon, Mrs. Reynolds stepped in and asked if they would be requiring the services of the doctor. Mr. Darcy sent for him. He would probably need to clean the gash on her face again. Soon, he was left with just Elizabeth. She had been awake for less than an hour and already she had drank several glasses of water and eaten enough to satisfy Darcy for two days. Her color was returning and he couldn't help but marvel at her amazing ability to recover.

“I am glad you have made a full recovery Miss Bennet.” Fitzwilliam said, being completely honest. He couldn't help but smile as he hadn't in three days. He was enjoying watching her devour a chicken leg.

“I am glad too, for I fear I might have starved to death.” Elizabeth said, lightheartedly taking a bite. They smiled at each other for a brief moment before the doctor stepped into the room. Mr. Darcy left once more as the doctor did a complete examination. He wanted to dance outside the room when the doctor walked out looking astonished.

“I have never seen someone recover so quickly. Perhaps I should leave all of my patients to your care Mr. Darcy.” He chuckled. “Elizabeth will be just fine in a week or so. I would not let her travel just yet.”

“That is fine.” Mr. Darcy said, trying not to express the happiness that was inside of him too outwardly. Not only was Elizabeth going to recover, but she was going to stay at Pemberley for a week. Mr. Darcy already had several ideas working in his head as he tried to stay focused on the doctor's words. He would get his chance. He would win Elizabeth.

Darcy bid everyone good night as he went to get his first real nights sleep in three days. For the first time he got a chance to think which brought him back to remembering his original question. “Why had she come after me on a horse?” he muttered. He would ask her tomorrow. He had so much to ask her and so much to tell her. The next week would tell.

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Mr. Darcy was telling Elizabeth about the day outside. Oh how she wished she could enjoy it or at least see it! He was an excellent story teller. He described the day with such detail Elizabeth could almost see it. She decided to once again try to move her fingers. To her shock and amazement, this time it worked! She could feel her fingers move ever so slightly in the palm of Mr. Darcy.

He stopped talking to her half way through a sentence.

“Elizabeth can you hear me?” he asked in amazement.

She wanted to scream “Yes, yes I can hear you! I can move!” but all she could manage was to move her fingers more. She was so excited that she got a bit hasty. She opened her eyes quickly only to feel the pain of the sunlight pouring into her eyes after nothing but darkness for three days.

She felt the grossness of her mouth after being dry for three days. She tried to talk, very self conscious of her crackly voice. She managed to somehow say “Mr. Darcy, May I have some water?” She was delighted when some water was sent for. Never before did she think something as petty as a glass of water would be worth so much. She opened her eyes for good now. She looked outside, the day exactly as Mr. Darcy described it.

Remembering Mr. Darcy, she looked at him wearily. Could this man not look attractive? He had clearly not shaved and his face was full of stubble. He smiled at her. She could not decipher his smile. She still assumed his emotions were those of guilt, thinking he had caused all of this. Mrs. Reynolds stepped in and asked if they would be requiring the services of the doctor. Mr. Darcy sent for him. Elizabeth didn't see the point. She was feeling better every second. Soon, she was left with just Darcy. She had been awake for less than an hour and already she had drank several glasses of water and eaten enough to satisfy any normal person for numerous days. She felt so much better already.

“I am glad you have made a full recovery Miss Bennet.” Fitzwilliam said, sounding earnest. He smiled at her. His smile was of an infectious sort. A gift, rarely bestowed, but once granted you had no choice but to return it. He was watching her devour a chicken leg. Usually, she would have been embarrassed but she had not eaten in three days.

“I am glad too, for I fear I might have starved to death.” Elizabeth said, lightheartedly taking a bite. They smiled at each other for a brief moment before the doctor stepped into the room. She felt an emptiness spread throughout the room as the doctor asked him to leave. He looked her over and a look of astonishment came over his face.

“Miss Bennet you are a very lucky woman indeed.”

Assuming he was talking about the fact she had Mr. Darcy to take care of her, she said “Why yes, I think I am.”

“That fall could have killed you.”

“Perhaps that is better than what would have happened had I caught Mr. Darcy” she thought to herself. She remembered her promise to tell Mr. Darcy. The doctor excused himself and she was left to ponder over everything that had gone on in four days.

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