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Elizabeth carefully folded Georgiana’s letter and tucked it away, her fingers lingering on the paper as if reluctant to let go of this connection to Mr Darcy.

She took a deep breath, composing herself for the day ahead, unaware that it would bring news that would further complicate her already tumultuous emotions.

Elizabeth’s reflection in the mirror startled her. Her eyes, usually so lively, seemed dull and tired, and her skin had a sallow tinge that even the warm morning light couldn’t disguise.

The morning light seemed too harsh to Elizabeth’s tired eyes. She moved through her usual routine mechanically, her responses to her family’s queries coming a beat too late, as if she were translating from a foreign language .

Elizabeth found herself struggling to focus on even the simplest tasks that morning. She had to ask Mary to repeat herself twice during their conversation about the latest sermon, her mind continually drifting back to the events at Netherfield.

“Lizzy, are you quite well?” Kitty asked, noticing the unusual pallor of her sister’s face.

Mr Bingley called on them later that morning. As Mr Bingley announced Darcy’s sudden departure, Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat. Elizabeth felt a curious mix of relief and regret wash over her.

She had told him to leave, yet hearing of his actual going stirred an unexpected pang of loss within her.

She had convinced herself that his leaving was for the best, yet now that it had happened, she found herself questioning her own resolve.

Surely Darcy’s absence would make it easier to focus on her duty to her family.

Yet another part, one she tried desperately to silence, felt a keen sense of loss.

She took a deep breath and clasped her hands tightly in her lap, struggling to maintain a neutral expression as her mind raced with the implications of his absence.

While working on her embroidery, Elizabeth sitting by her father’s bedside that afternoon, she found her mind drifting to Georgiana’s letter, Georgiana’s descriptions of Pemberley in winter.

She could almost see the frost-covered grounds and imagine the Darcy siblings ice skating on the lake.

For a moment, she allowed herself to wonder what it might be like to be part of such a scene, before firmly pushing the thought away.

The image of Mr Darcy as a doting brother, so different from his public persona, both intrigued and unsettled her.

She wondered how many other sides of him she had failed to see, and whether it was too late to uncover them.

She found herself wishing she could reconcile this version of him with the proud, difficult man she had first encountered.

The thought that she might never have the chance to do so left her with an unexpected sense of loss.

In the days that followed, Elizabeth found herself unconsciously reaching for pen and paper whenever she felt overwhelmed. Each time, she’d catch herself, the weight of her promise to Darcy hanging heavy in her mind.

Elizabeth’s pen hovered over the paper, Darcy’s words echoing in her mind. But what would she say? ‘Dear Georgiana, your brother asked me to write if I needed help, and I find myself…’ No, she couldn’t. She set the pen down with a sigh.

She stared at the blank page before her, torn between proprietary and the desire to maintain this tenuous connection to the Darcys.

Mr Collins’ voice floated up from the garden, where he was earnestly discussing wedding plans with Mary.

Elizabeth’s quill remained poised, uncertain, much like her own heart.

“I don’t believe my younger brother, James, will not be able to attend the wedding.” Mr Collins was explaining to Mary.

She did reply, but Elizabeth could not make out what she said.

“It is most unfortunate,” Mr Collins continued, his voice carrying clearly through the house.

“James is busy with his studies of the law. He has always been a poor student and struggles with his studies. It would be best not to disturb him. Lady Catherine, in her infinite wisdom, suggested that perhaps it was for the best. She believes that long journeys can be quite taxing.”

Elizabeth could almost hear Mary nodding in agreement. Elizabeth barely registered Mr Collins’ words about his brother. Another relative of Mr Collins was of little consequence to her current state of mind.

“Still,” Mr Collins sighed, “I had hoped to introduce him to my dear Elizabeth. James has always been most interested in my prospects for marriage. But I suppose we’ll have to wait until we can visit him in the future. ”

The sound of Mr Collins and Mary’s footsteps receded, leaving Elizabeth alone with her thoughts once more.

She glanced at Georgiana’s letter, still open on her desk, and finally brought herself to pen a brief reply.

Apologising for the delay in replying and giving her the small pieces of news that Longbourn had to offer.

* * *

Longbourn Drawing Room - Elizabeth

Mr Darcy left for London the next day, Mr Bingley bringing them the news with evident confusion at his friend’s sudden departure.

Elizabeth’s heart constricted painfully - he had done exactly as she asked, proving once again his inherent honour.

Yet that same honour meant he could never have offered her a way out of her engagement to Mr Collins, even had he wished to.

A gentleman of Mr Darcy’s principles would not attempt to win away another man’s fiancée, no matter her feelings or his.

Mrs Bennet was delighted by the news, of course.

“How fortunate he is gone!” she declared, smiling broadly at Mr Bingley.

“We are sorry you have lost your friend’s company, of course, but really he was quite disagreeable.

And his presence was most unsettling for dear Lizzy, engaged as she is to Mr Collins. ”

Elizabeth forced herself to maintain a neutral expression, though each word felt like a knife to her heart. Her mother was right about one thing - Mr Darcy’s presence had unsettled her. But not for the reasons Mrs Bennet imagined.

“I do hope that your own plans to stay in the neighbourhood have not changed by his leaving you so soon? For we would miss your company a great deal.” Mrs Bennet asked sweetly.

Mr Bingley said that he was not sure what his plans were. The visit continued pleasantly enough, despite Mrs Bennet’s delight in Mr Darcy’s leaving the area.

“You will be quite alone at Netherfield.” Mrs Bennet continued, “You are most welcome to dine with us whenever you would like. You are always welcome.”

Mr Collins left soon after, although not without a long talk with Mrs Bennet and a much shorter one with Mr Bennet about trying to move the wedding up.

Elizabeth did not voice her opinion on the matter, for she knew it would not please Jane or her father.

She was resigned to her fate, and the sooner that fate arrived to claim her the better, for she would have less time to talk herself out of this course of action.

She had made her bed and now she would have to sleep in it. It was the only thing to do.