A/N: So… Another year and a half for another chapter. I'm really sorry, so many things have happened since last year. I've met someone and moved in with him and his family, been through a few jobs and am in the process of moving again. All in all, it's been a busy, yet wonderful year. I have a bit of time to write while I'm looking for jobs and houses so maybe you'll have another one soon. I don't want to promise anything though… You all know what I'm like by now. ;) I really want to re-write the whole story again, I cringe reading the first few chapters especially and I've forgotten so many characters along the way… Poor Charlotte. But yeah, we'll see what happens.

NEW NOTE: I have a new computer! Which is great, apart from the fact that it doesn't have Word or my last chapter I was writing yet, so when I get to visit my family at the end of February, I will transfer everything. Thanks for being patient!

So, that happened.

I was still trying to process everything that had happened, Joe's story, Charlie breaking up with Jane, the maid telling me just how helpful Darcy had been in breaking Charlie and Jane up… Darcy, asking me out?! That was the hardest part to understand. We barely knew each other, hadn't been on a date, he knew I hated him, he must do and yet, despite all of this… He actually asked me out? I think it's pretty fair to say that I was pretty exhausted. Holmes hadn't tried to talk about why I didn't say goodbye to anyone and why I had gotten into the car silently, my mascara running down my face.

I didn't feel like the thousands of questions I would undoubtedly be asked the second I walked through my front door, but I needed to see my family again. Talking about them at Lady C's reminded me how much I missed them.

We pulled up in front of the little house, the bright red door was ajar- Mom always forgot to shut it properly. Holmes looked at me, I could see the pity in his eyes which sent a small spark of irritation through me. It was the same look I'd seen flash across his cousin's face on occasion.

"What?" I said, not hiding the irritation. He flinched back, "Whoa, alright, easy tiger! I was just going to say, you might want to get a makeup wipe and, you know, uh, tidy up a bit." He said, not wanting to say I looked awful. Which I did. My face felt dry and tight from the mascara setting on my face, my hair was limp and damp from the earlier rain and my skirt was clinging to my legs. I sighed, knowing he was right. Looking out the window, I could see a silver car across the road I'd seen before, the pap loved a celebrity looking miserable and, well, I definitely fitted that description at the moment.

I half smiled at him, "You trying to say I look miserable or something?" I opened my handbag, fishing out my makeup wipes. Holmes held up his hands, "Hey, I don't know much about fashion, this might be the Next Big Thing, I dunno." He opened the door and got out, going to help the Hobson with the bags.

Wiping my face, I thought about how to make Jane feel better. We hadn't done much together recently. I remembered when we were sixteen and snuck some of my mom's red wine upstairs and got absolutely plastered together. The next day wasn't fun, hungover and scrubbing red wine vomit out of the carpet, but it brought back good memories. I had a few bottles of champagne from the Grammy's and I'm sure I had some, ahem, stronger stuff somewhere.

I looked outside the window as Holmes was wobbling up the path to our house. His face was red, trying to cope with the weight of our bags. Getting out of the car, I jumped as a shriek pierced the air, followed by a bang. I sighed, turning around to greet my mother, however, she was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Holmes was pale, backing off, eyes locked on something… Wait, that was a TURKEY.

It was hissing and ruffling its feathers and advancing towards Holmes who was cowering by the fence, not wanting to make any sudden movements. Suddenly, the door swung open and my mother flew out, a pot and spoon in her hands, clanging wildly and singing at the top of her lungs. And just like that, the turkey backed down, running back to its pen.

"Elizabeth! Hello dear! Is it just you?!" She said, throwing her arms around me, pot and spoon in hand still. I hugged her back tightly, "Holmes is by the fence, I think he's trying to recover from his greeting by our new pet."

"Ella, dear, you really mustn't hug me so tightly, you know what a state my nerves are in." She said, pushing me away slightly. I wasn't offended, that was just mum. She looked towards the turkey who was strutting around, gobbling and still sounding generally angry, "And that, is not our pet. That's Steve, he's going to be the centre of the table tomorrow for Thanksgiving." My eyes widened slightly, looking at Steve, feeling slightly sorry for the hideous creature, "Um, I don't know if I feel comfortable with-" I was cut off by my mother taking my arm and pulling me towards the front door where Lydia and Kitty were standing, hair fixed into huge, bleached beehives, both in tiny black dresses, "Hey Lizzy." They said in unison, batting their fake eyelashes at me, "So how was LADY Catherine's? And how was Darcy?! He's been looking so hotttttt recently. I got a free poster in my Hello magazine. Did you guys suck each other's faces again? Ugh, I want a turn." Kitty mimed making out with someone, but she was stopped abruptly by Lydia hitting her, "Omg, you're so embarrassing." Kitty looked clueless, "What?" And she was led away to their hovel of a bedroom by Lydia.

Holmes had recovered from his turkey encounter and brought our bags inside. Thankfully in time to divert my mother's attention from Darcy and my unclear relationship. As he was engulfed in a huge hug, head firmly planted in my mother's ample bosom, "Holmes, my dear! I haven't seen you in ages, you must have grown at least two inches! And look at this, what's this?!" She said, tugging at his sparse golden stubble. I laughed at Holmes' red face and started making my way up the narrow wooden stairs to my bedroom.

I hadn't seen Jane yet and I was anxious to see her, but I needed a shower first. I was freezing from my damp clothes and the autumn wind. My room was largely unchanged, although the closet looked significantly emptier than it had been when I'd left it. I texted Lydia and Kitty, "I need my clothes back by tomorrow… without alcohol and puke stains." And picked up my towel, heading for the shower.

As the warm water beat down on my chilled skin, I thought about Darcy, standing there in the rain. He looked genuine, more genuine than I'd ever seen him. Well, until I confronted him about Jane. He couldn't actually love me, it was lust. We'd simply spent too much time together. The first five minutes after I'd met him was enough for me, enough for a lifetime.

He confused me. There were flashes of a genuine person under all the bravado and arrogance, but I wasn't sure whether that was the fake Darcy or the arrogant bastard I knew too well was. I leant my head on the glass, the water calming me down. I thought about Joe. He wasn't your ideal guy, fainting at seeing the guy who had been, well, ahem, not very nice to him. Still, he had a charm about him, a zest for life and fun. He was fun, a bit irritating sometimes, but overall, fun.

As if he knew I was thinking about him, my phone lit up, reading "JOE". I quickly turned off the shower, wishing I could have had just five more minutes. Wrapping myself in my white fluffy towel, I swiped right, "Long time, no speak!" I said, wondering why he'd called me again, since we'd only spoken this morning. I heard a soft laugh at the other end, slightly rough, "Ellie!" I winced at the new nickname… I was not feeling it.

"It's hard to get someone as gorgeous as you out of my head, don't judge, 'kay?" He said, ever flirtatious, "I felt bad about burdening you with all that mess about my childhood. It's kinda unfair… Especially when it's thanksgiving and it's supposed to be happy and everything, I guess. I wanted to apologize. Is there a chance I could see you sometime soon?" I paused, not sure whether I wanted to see him. It was always complicated with him around and last time I had seen him hadn't made me exactly eager to meet him again. I remembered him lying on the floor of the café, covered in his own vomit and grimaced. I guess it wasn't his fault… He'd sent me a text later, saying he'd eaten a dodgy Indian takeaway the previous night and had been sick a few more times after he'd made it back home.

"Um… Ella?" His voice brought me back to my senses again, "Yeah, it'd be cool to see you, talk things over with you. Why don't you come for dinner tonight? My family's kind of crazy and I'd totally understand if you didn't wan-" His voice cut me off, "I would love to. What's your address?" I half smiled, maybe it'd be good to see him again.

Walking outside, the sharp autumn breeze caught me again, looking left and right, I couldn't see anyone. "Ella!" I snapped around and, emerging from a slightly beaten up looking bug, I saw him. Joe Wickham, golden hair and mischievous green eyes glinting with sheepish delight. I grinned at him, "Hey puke face." I said, throwing my arms around him. He stepped back, thrown by the force of the hug, "Well, this is a warm reception!" He said, eventually wrapping his arms around me, his hand slightly too close to my chest for comfort. I pulled back slightly, but it took him a second too long to let me go.

"So, have you recovered?" I asked him, leading him inside. Everyone was hanging out in the kitchen so we wouldn't immediately be smothered by family. Jane had apparently gone out to get herself some new pyjamas, since she'd run out. Joe caught my hand that had been swinging lazily beside me, "I'm golden, cupcake. You're looking as smoking hot as ever, by the way." He paused, looking down, tracing little circles on my hand that made me slightly uncomfortable, "I- I've missed you, I feel like we have a special connection, you know?" My eyes widened and I was about to open my mouth and tell him where he stood with me, when, again, my family came to my rescue.

"Oh my GOD, Lizzy, you did not tell us you have another guy! Where do you find them? It's not fairrrrrrrr!" Lydia said, strutting up to us in six inch heels. I didn't have a clue how she did it, always walking around like a baby giraffe in those stupid shoes. Joe slid his arm around my waist and I stiffened, "And who's this gorgeous babe?" He said, grinning at Lydia, eyes definitely a couple inches lower than they should have been. He moved from me to kiss Lydia on both cheeks, "I'm Joe, Joe Wickham, Ella's, uh, friend." He said, making it sound creepier than it should have. Lydia bit her lip, bright pink lipstick coming off on her teeth, "I'm Lydia, you can call me Lyddie though… I'm Ella's youngest sister." She said, pulling her dress down even more to expose yet more of her already exposed bosom. I wanted to face palm and go and find Jane, but I didn't want to leave those two alone together. Not if you paid me, the way they were eyeing each other up. They were like a pair of wolves who had spotted their next prey.

Kitty peeked around the door, wondering where her partner in crime had gone. Her thickly rimmed eyes also widened when she saw Joe. I sighed, not wanting to see this. As Kitty toddled down the hallway, I made my way towards the kitchen. Holmes was sitting at the table with my father, looking over one of my father's many philosophy books, no doubt trying to keep up with my father's highly intellectual conversation. Nobody except me could understand him.

"Lizzy dear, there you are. I heard you come in, have you been avoiding me?" My father said as I bent down to give him a peck on the cheek. I laughed, "No, of course not, dad. I'm sure you wouldn't have appreciated a freezing, damp hug, even if it was from your favourite daughter, so I went and showered." I plopped down next to Holmes, resting my head in my hands, "Holmes, I think I've made a mistake." He looked over at me, eyes questioning as he tried to figure out what I'd done. I stood up and took his hand, his hand feeling much more familiar and welcome than Joe's slightly clammy hand had felt like. Leading him over to the door, I made him promise not to be mad at me. He didn't promise. Joe was leaning against the wall, still captivated by the two sets of boobs that were making extremely interesting conversation with him.

Holmes stared at him for a few seconds and then, without a word, strode down the hallway, knocking the wind out of Joe as he passed, not bothering to excuse himself. He flung open the door and slammed it behind him as he left.

Dinner was a nightmare.

Joe loved the attention my family gave him, lapping it up while his eyes never left Lydia's chest. My father and I exchanged glances and I couldn't bear the slightly disappointed expression he wore. Jane was still absent and I longed for nothing more than to go upstairs and talk to her. I had decided that this would be the last time I saw Joe. Not because of Holmes' reaction or because Darcy hated him. I didn't care about their history, but I did care about the way he looked so… Predatory, looking at Lydia. She was so stupid, naïve, she'd accept any attention she received and I worried for her. She didn't care if he was only interested in her body, she probably wouldn't even think that. I loved her so much, she was my baby sister, but she was so innocent in a way. I know, Lydia and innocent shouldn't be in the same sentence, but she really was.

I finished my meal and stood up, "Okay, Joe, ready to go? I'll walk you out." I said, giving him my "do as I say or you will end up dead in a ditch" look. Lydia started whining, but I cut her off sharply, "Pull up your dress and be quiet, Lydia." Joe looked at me, bewildered, obviously oblivious to my growing anger all throughout his visit. He scrunched up his napkin and put it down on the white tablecloth, slowly standing up, "Uh, okay, hun…" He said, confused. My mother also opened her mouth, but she was silenced by a look from my father and me simultaneously. I grabbed Joe's wrist and walked him out, "Look at my sister's boobs one more time and I will cut everything off where it matters most. You'll be a completely blank canvas down there. If you survive the blood loss, that is." I snapped, leading him down the path and to his car. He tried to talk back to me, but I was having none of it, "I was willing to be your friend, Joe, but you came in to my family and blew all chance of that out the window. I never want to see your face again and if I do..." I looked down at his crotch and he paled slightly, "Remember, I am watched every second of my life, I have body guards around twenty four seven. See these houses?" I pointed to a modest looking house across the street and the one next to ours, "These houses have men living in them who could end your life with their thumb. Remember that." I spat, turning away and heading back inside. I heard him chuckle, "Oh, Ella, you'll come around."

A fresh flush of fury made my heart speed up, but I forced myself to ignore him and swing the door shut.

Lydia was throwing a tantrum inside, ugly crying, makeup running down her face, while she stomped her six inch heel clod foot, making small dents in the wooden floor. I wanted nothing more than to go up to my room and scream myself, but I made my way to the kitchen, "LYDIA, SHUT UP." I yelled at her, "Joe Wickham is a piece of-" My mother flashed me a warning glance, "He's scum, you can do better than that. Tell me now, what colour are his eyes?" She looked at me, sticking her bottom lip out, "I don't have to talk to you." She said, her voice thin and weedy, choked up from crying, "Besides, they're-" She stopped, trying to think. I threw up my hands, "SEE?! There! He was so busy eying you up that he didn't meet your eyes once! Have some bloody respect for yourself, Lydia!" I felt the anger sweep out of me as I saw her turn to mum, shoulders hunched, sobs racking her body. It was petulance, but it reminded me of when she was little. Suddenly, I felt worn out, there had been too much going on in the past day.

I heard keys in the door and it opened to revel a thinner looking Jane, holding too many bags so she couldn't get her keys out of the door. I took in her worn appearance, what once looked like angelic curls were in disarray, tied up in a bun that had been there for at least two days, wisps falling across her make-up free face. Her eyes were slightly red and had bags under them. She still looked bloody gorgeous as ever. It really wasn't fair.

Unable to contain my excitement to see her again, I bounded up to her, throwing my arms around her in the biggest hug I'd ever given anyone, the past five minutes forgotten. I breathed in her familiar Jane smell and smiled, it was good to see her again.

I felt a damp patch on my shoulder and felt her heave a sob, "Oh, Jane…" I said, hugging her tighter. She'd dropped her bags on the floor and was holding on to me, nearly as tight as I was holding on to her. Eventually, the sobbing quieted down and I took her bags upstairs, dumping them on my bed.

She sat down, sighing, "I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you, Lizzy. Mother's tried to be supportive, but I think she's more devastated, knowing she won't have the richest son in law she could hope for." She said, her voice catching, obviously thinking about Charlie and her, married, "I know we weren't together for the longest time, but it felt like it was meant to be, you know? He made… Oh, this is going to sound so stupid… But he made my very soul feel comfortable. Like we'd been meant to meet our whole lives and now that we had, it was like I was completed. I was a complete person with him." She said, knotting her hands. I sat down next to her, "This is not it for you, Jane, there's going to be someone else out there that's going to make you feel better than he ever did, more loved than you could have imagined." Her face crumpled, "That's just it, I can't feel more love than I felt for him. You know-" Her voice hitched, "How, when you come back from a long tour, and you get home and you smell your home again and everything is how you left it, perfect and untouched. That's how he made me feel. He was my home." I brushed the tears away, trying to remain strong for Jane. I didn't know what I should say, there were no 'right' words I could say in this situation. They were perfect for each other and I didn't know how they could not be together. Even if Darcy did orchestrate their break up, no one should have been able to. It was hard for me to understand how Charlie could have been persuaded that Jane was not who she said she was.

She eventually ran out of tears, collapsing on my bed, staring at the ceiling. There wasn't a good way to get over a break up, well, not that I know of, people who said exercise helped, obviously hadn't tried alcohol. I opened my large wooden chest and pulled a litre of rum out. It had been sent to me by one of my back up dancers as a 'congratulations for finishing your new album' gift, but I hadn't had occasion to drink it until now. I had instructed Jane to throw my super king size duvet over my four post bed and to build a pillow fort inside so we could hide in there and talk and watch movies and drink until we passed out.

As the credits rolled for The Royal Tenenbaums, Jane turned to me, "So, how was Lady Catherine's?" She said, her voice slightly slurred, her face flushed. I laughed, "Bloody awful." I rolled over onto my back, "You know Darcy proposed to me earlier?" His rain beaten face flashed through my mind again, making me feel slightly uncomfortable. Jane appeared over me, blue eyes as wide as saucers, "What?!" She squeaked, covering her mouth. I sat up, my head spinning, "I was outside in the garden and he just… Proposed." I said, thinking back to it. I broke out in a grin and started laughing uncontrollably, finally fully realising the ridiculousness of the situation. I stood up, trying to look serious, "I've tried to stop this, but I can't." My eyes were leaking tears of laughter as I tried to copy Darcy's deep man voice, "I need you- I need you to know that I am irrevocably in love with you. I know it must come as a great surprise, that I, Lord Darcy the Pompous and Great, Ruler of God-Knows-Where, Famed Singer, should stoop so low as to enter into a relationship with you and that also means I'll actually have to get to know your… your…" I mimed gagging, "family, but you know, I' actually quite fancy you, so you're now my girlfriend." Jane was beside herself laughing, it was good to see her smiling again. I plopped down on the bed beside her, "He's such an arrogant bastard." I said, taking another sip from my drink. Jane's laughter subsided, "I don't know, Charlie's told me a bit about him and he doesn't sound all bad." I looked at her and she groaned, taking a shot of the gross reject bottle of strawberry milkshake vodka that had been in my cupboard way too long. We had made a deal, every time Charlie was mentioned, we had to take a shot. Jane was pretty past it.

"Jane, you see the good in everyone. Sometimes, people are just assholes." Jane shook her head, "You know he raised his baby sister? When their parents died? And he's taken such good care of-" She paused, not wanting another shot of strawberry vodka, "That guy… He's always there for him." I looked at her, "Jane, we both know you're talking about Charlie, take a shot." I grinned mischievously, handing her the bottle. She shook her head, "Nope, not unless you take a shot every time you mention Darcy. You talk about him way too much, I'm tired of hearing about his bulbous head and cauliflower ears- we both know he's ridiculously handsome, even if you do hate him." She said, handing me the bottle. I sighed, she had a point, I did talk about him a lot. I took a swig, gagging on the sickly sweetness and she did the same.

A few minutes later, we'd completely passed out.

Morning came and passed, we only woke up at 2:30, heads pounding, stomachs' churning. I made it to the bathroom just in time to reach the loo, throwing up everything I'd eaten yesterday. I felt a bit better and walked downstairs, Jane behind me, moaning softly about her head. I smelt a fry up and opened my eyes fully to see my dad lifting an egg onto a plate heaped with bacon, mushrooms, tomato, beans, even fried banana (don't judge, it's amazing with bacon). I felt a surge of love for him as he smiled at me and pulled out a chair, "I figured you might need this." He said, untying his apron and putting it over a chair. I smiled at him and sat down, still feeling slightly queasy, "Thank you so much, Dad." I tucked in, ravenous after puking this morning. Jane picked on hers, she never threw up when she was drunk or hungover, so it made her feel worse.

My father sat down, uncorking his Hibiki whiskey before he stood up again, a finger raised as though he just remembered something, "Oh, Elizabeth, I just remembered… A letter came for you this morning, no address, just 'Ella' on the front. This isn't one of your 'super-fans' slash 'stalker' though, I recognize their writing." He said, passing me an ivory envelope. I took one look at the beautiful, artistic writing that stood out in bold black ink and drew a sharp breath. That was Darcy's handwriting, I was sure of it. I remembered it from his notebook. That, and who else would be old fashioned enough to write me a letter like that?

Dad handed me his handcrafted letter opener and with one swoop, the letter was open.

"Dearest Ella,

I must write to you and apologize for my behaviour yesterday. I know you're probably thinking this is ridiculous and pompous, writing you a letter, but, as silly as it sounds, I do not trust the paparazzi not to be able to read any emails you receive. Besides, you will probably just delete the email. Well, I suppose you could burn this letter, but that's beside the point. So yes, I want to apologize. I was incredibly arrogant and rude and I don't expect you to forgive me.

You're probably thinking 'Well, why did you bother to write this bloody letter then?'"

I paused, he was exactly right.

"You spoke of a matter that deeply disturbed me. I beg of you, if we never speak again, just please, please read the entirety of this letter. It is a matter of utmost importance.

When I was five years old, my parents were godparents to one Joseph Wickham. First, little Joseph's mother left, having been abused by his father and then, the father, an alcoholic, disappeared without a trace one day. The police found him dead in a ditch a few weeks later. My parents took in Joseph, treating him like family, despite his violent tendencies, no doubt learned from his pig father.

We grew up very close, as Georgiana, my sister, was not born until I was much older. My father grew fond of this rambunctious boy, I was too quiet and thoughtful for my father's liking, who preferred a boy like Joe, who thrived being what my father described as 'manly'. Yes, this did make me jealous, however I accepted I would never be the perfect son and I got on well with my mother anyway. My father made sure Joe was educated in the best school available, only sending me as an afterthought. I never spoke to Joseph much, I didn't care for his company, but I never mistreated him like he claims.

After my parents' accident, he grew more violent and drank more. I don't like to assume that children take after their parents, but unfortunately, sometimes they do. Georgiana was sixteen, loved any kind of art and was incredibly friendly to everyone, craving friendship. Joe, after being away at 'university' for a few years, came back and was surprised at how beautiful she had become, during his absence.

They spent an uncomfortable amount of time together, they would take each other everywhere they went and Georgie adored him. I was back and forth from Oxford as often as I could, to check up on them. One day, a day I will always remember, I had an overwhelming feeling that something was wrong, so I returned home only to find Mrs. Reynolds, our housekeeper and almost a mother to Georgiana and me, in a panic. She hadn't seen Georgie since she'd left for a concert with Joe the previous day.

I couldn't contact her, her phone had died and I didn't know where she was. I called everyone I knew, even acquaintances, producers, sound guys, merchandise sellers, everyone in my phone book. No one could find her. The next day, I had a phone call. It was the worst phone call any brother could receive.

Georgiana had checked herself into hospital the evening before and had been too weak to contact me until then. Joe had taken her to a flat neither of us knew he had and raped her." The handwriting became shakier, less beautiful and swooping, more jagged and pointy. "She was in hospital for two weeks. She was released, only to be rushed back in, suffering from what we later found out was a miscarriage. She's never been the same since. We never heard from Joe again, until the other day, when we bumped into each other in that café. I beg you to stay away from him, please, not because of my feelings for you, I would advise anyone to stay away from Joe.

If you're still reading this, please destroy this letter, burn it. I can't bear the thought of anyone else reading this and Georgiana… I fear she would not survive if the media caught hold of this.

Thank you.

Kind Regards,

Fitzwilliam Darcy"

I drew in a shaky breath, folding the pieces of paper up, walking over to the fire and throwing it in. Dad chuckled, "Like that, is it?" I turned around and he sobered as he saw my expression, "What is it, darling?" He said, getting up. I pulled out my phone, "Where's Lydia?" I asked, trying to find her in my phone book. Dad shook his head, looking worried now, "I don't know, why?"

My phone started ringing, but it went straight to voicemail. The sound of my sister cheerily asking me to call later made my blood run cold. I ran outside, trying to find my mother, who was feeding Steve the Turkey, "Mom- Mom! Where's Lydia?" I asked, making her frown at the urgency of my tone. She shrugged, "I think she's going to a concert with that nice young man we met yesterday. Is he rich, by any chance, Lizzy? Lizzy?" She said, as I ran back inside, already calling Joe. As expected, he didn't answer.

I froze in my steps, knowing Lydia would have posted on Facebook where she was going. Logging on, I immediately saw "heading to see the Biebs with this one" followed by various emojis and a selfie of them in a car together. I could feel myself choking up with fear. Justin was playing in Las Vegas tomorrow night.

The thought that this would be the first time Darcy and I spoke since he asked me out never crossed my mind as the phone rang. It was picked up immediately.

"Elizabeth?" He sounded anxious, maybe slightly confused. I sighed a breath of relief, "Darcy, my youngest sister's disappeared with Joe and I-" I was cut off the second I mentioned Joe, "Are you at home?" He asked, the jangling of keys sounding in the background. I nodded, then laughed, tears finally spilling over, "Yes, yes I am."

"I'm on my way."

A/N: And there we have it… Another chapter! Sorry to be a meanie and leave you with that cliffhanger! But there will probably be another chapter soon. I can't make any more promises though… So until next time, adios amigos!