Of all the things that Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy hoped to encounter when he called on Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her aunt and uncle, catching her as she fainted away in front of him was not even a remote possibility. But he was undeniably dealing with that precise situation.

Mr. Darcy had decided to pay the Gardiners and Miss Elizabeth the courtesy of a visit the morning after they dined at Pemberley for a little more leisurely conversation than the previous evening's party had afforded. Miss Elizabeth had been all that was gracious despite having to deal with Miss Bingley's clumsy verbal attacks and even protected his sister from extreme discomfort when Miss Bingley's words hit a little too close to home. As host, his own time had been divided between all his guests but he was very eager to spend time with Elizabeth's relations. She would have to see that he had taken her reproofs to heart and was doing his best to remedy those defects that he had ignored all his life. If that was a large part of the motivation for him to pay his respects on this particular morning, he could afford to not heed it.

But upon being announced, he was greeted by the sight of an obviously disturbed and perturbed Elizabeth Bennet, a letter clutched desperately in her trembling hands. Startled by her discomposure, he had started walking towards her. Thank heavens he had done so. As soon as he had entered the room, she had begun speaking about the absolute need to find her aunt and uncle on business that could not be delayed and there being some dreadful news. As she finished her speech, her face went deathly pale, her eyes rolled back, closed slowly, and her body began sinking as if in slow motion.

Never had Fitzwilliam Darcy felt fear and terror as he had in that moment. Even discovering Georgiana's ill advised affair with George Wickham did not freeze his very soul as the sight of Elizabeth fading away in front of him did. Before he was fully conscious of his own actions, she was in his arms. Her head cradled on his shoulder, he moved towards a sofa and did his best to make her comfortable all the while calling for a servant. When a servant finally appeared, his gruffness terrified the poor girl. She was just able to understand that the Gardiners were to be fetched immediately and some wine, tea, and cool rags brought for reviving the young lady.

Turning back to Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy gently chafed her hands and attempted to restore some color to her face. As he was rubbing her hands, the letter she had been clutching dropped to the floor. Mr. Darcy bent to retrieve it and felt his heart stop for a second time that morning. His eyes had been arrested by a name scrawled in the midst of an obviously tear stained letter. George Wickham. Surely not. Why was his name in a letter that had caused this woman so much distress?

Barely realizing that he was grossly violating her privacy, Darcy devoured the contents of Jane's letter to Elizabeth. So startling was the realization that he was partially responsible that he could not contain himself and began pacing the room. Wickham had eloped with Miss Lydia. No, not eloped. He was toying with her, for he would never marry her. And he, Fitzwilliam Darcy, had not stopped the bastard before when he had the opportunity. How had he been so horrifically blind? Surely if Wickham had tried this scheme with so near success with Georgiana, then surely he had tried it with countless other young girls.

"You read it?" came the soft inquiry from behind him.

Startled by both the voice and the weakness evident in it, Darcy rushed back to the sofa. Elizabeth's eyes slowly filled with tears as her gaze met his. Words unnecessary, he drew a chair next to the sofa and felt how foolish he had been in his mistaken and foolish hope that Wickham would reform his ways without having to involve the Darcy name.

"Miss Elizabeth… I…" he began and stopped as his voice cracked dangerously. Clearing his throat, he switched topics. "Can I get you anything for your present relief? A glass of wine? Some water?" Shame, guilt, concern, and compassion fought across his face.

"Water, please." Elizabeth requested.

Silently, he obtained the drink and assisted her in taking a drink. He didn't trust himself to speak quite yet. Beside him, Elizabeth fussed with the handkerchief that was nearly unusable from tears.

"Despite my faint, Mr. Darcy, I am not currently so distressed. The situation is dire and has little hope. But it is what was to be expected."

If she had looked up at him at that moment, she would have seen the heartbreak in his eyes. Here was the woman of his desire sitting in the reality of her and her family's life crumbling around her. And the resignation was the worst part of the situation.

"Miss Bennet, would that there was anything I could say or do that would relieve your present suffering. However, I fear that it would seem like pity or platitudes. Neither of which are helpful in such situations."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I know your sympathy is...real. I would greatly appreciate your discretion in this matter - as long as it is possible."

"You certainly have it. And Miss Elizabeth - I would like you to know that I am heartily ashamed of my past behavior. Had I acted differently...perhaps...perhaps, you would not be in this situation."

This statement and the grief with which it was spoken finally roused Elizabeth from her seat. "Of all the people responsible here, Mr. Darcy, you are absolutely not one of them. You gave a man a second chance - or whatever number chance it was. He chose to squander it - just as he has many other things in his life. It was his and Lydia's doing. Not yours, not your sister's...nor mine."

Mr. Darcy stared at Elizabeth for several moments. The emotions that played rapidly across his face along with the silence that followed her statement made Elizabeth worry she had misspoken in acknowledging his sister's affair out loud. She was not so recovered or confident in herself to be able to recognize admiration and ardent love when she saw it.

Rousing himself, Darcy finally realized the need to leave. He was not sure how much longer he would be master of himself in Elizabeth Bennet's presence. Standing up, he took his leave as calmly and evenly as possible.

"I pray you are recovered. I must leave you on a matter of urgent business. Will you be alright until your relations return?"

Startled at his abrupt leave taking, Elizabeth managed to assure him of her being sufficiently recovered. She could not help but understand. He must leave. His reputation would suffer badly by continuing any connection with the Bennets, but especially herself. There could be no renewal of his addresses. His sympathy, therefore, was both precious and heartbreaking.

Stepping nearer to her, Mr. Darcy lifted her hand and bowed over it. "I hope this affair will be resolved quickly for your family, Miss Bennet." A final look and he was gone. Elizabeth felt tears begin to fill her eyes again - because of the loss of his presence or Lydia's situation, she could not say.