“Darcy, go warn Georgiana off.” Richard said as Darcy began to walk towards Miss Elizabeth and their oldest foe. His words failing to register, Richard stepped in front of Darcy and while he wasn’t taller, he was decidedly broader than his cousin. “You must warn Georgiana.” He punctuated each syllable to get Darcy’s attention.

Finally understanding, Darcy moved to find the exit at the other end so he could double back around the block and get a message to his sister. But not before giving one last edict to his cousin.

“Watch them. Watch her.”

With Darcy on his way, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam followed at a leisurely pace to both calm his own temper and to observe the situation. He certainly didn’t wish to cause a scene in such a public place, nor risk the reputations of the Bennet sisters in such mixed company.

It was Mary who noticed the Colonel first. After making eye contact with him her face immediately brightened. She began to vigorously nod her head, but he motioned for her to be still and to not let his presence be known. Quickly, she deflected her eyes to the floor, afraid to give away his position.

The Colonel chuckled in his mind at the tactical prowess of Miss Mary Bennet. He pretended to scrutinize a cracked vase with athletic etchings on the side that was missing a good half, though the missing half was turned away from the public. Near enough now to hear their discourse, his ears pricked up as he started to notice distress in Miss Elizabeth’s voice.

“Please, Mr. Wickham. We are moving rather quickly through the exhibit. I’d like to read a few of the placards.”

“What are museums and ancient pottery to the thrills and delights of London? Come, let’s finish up here and I’ll take you to a real place of fun. You’ll love it, I promise.”

Elizabeth tried to pull her arm away but Mr. Wickham held onto it tightly. The throngs of people around them began to grow thicker as the fashionable time of day was upon them and as Elizabeth looked behind her, she didn’t see Mary or Amy. Still Wickham continued to pull her arm and walk with such passion, they were nearing the end of the exhibit much too quickly for Elizabeth’s tastes.

Again she bucked against him and tried to stop their progress.

“Mr. Wickham, please! We’ve lost Mary and Amy!” Elizabeth struggled as politely as she could to avoid making a scene. The entire situation was quickly becoming a mess.

Wickham was no fool. He had seen Colonel Fitzwilliam in the crowd behind him as he was much more practiced at faking emotions that he did not actually feel. He could keep a smile in place and scan a room for marks without any person being the wiser. He had but moments to get Miss Elizabeth out of the exhibit or else his plan would be lost.

As they reached the exit, Elizabeth was now no longer angry about causing a scene and instead was most fearful for her safety. Furtively she looked over her shoulder and she could finally see Mary bobbing her head above the crowds of people behind her. But what could Mary do?

The sudden cold of London’s streets in early December made Elizabeth respond by taking in a sharp breath.

“Wickham!”

“Oho, Darcy! Here to claim your mistress?” Wickham tightened his grip on Elizabeth to the point that it was hurting her arm. She naturally struggled against him which only made Wickham grip harder. He pulled Elizabeth to him and kissed her hard against the mouth as she rightly screamed in protest.

Three things happened at once as Wickham was suddenly tackled from behind, making him let go of Elizabeth and Darcy’s quick reflexes caught the woman of his heart. Not seeing his attacker, Wickham flailed his arms and connected his fist to the face of no other than Mary Bennet.

“Miss Mary!” Colonel Fitzwilliam managed to just exit the exhibit to rush to Mary’s side as she collapsed to the ground.

Seeing others begin to notice, Wickham tried to escape from his situation as two very burly men who had just witnessed him hit such a diminutive woman blocked his path.

“Hold him! He’s a deserter of His Majesty’s Army!” Darcy called out, still refusing to let go of Elizabeth in his arms.

“Come, come, you know that’s not true, Darcy. I’m on an errand, I have leave.” Wickham began to plead his excuses to the two unknown men who looked very happy to inflict some pain upon the gentleman.

“From Captain Carter?”

Wickham’s face fell. “How did you, how do you know that?”

Darcy smiled, finally catching Wickham in one of his own traps. “Bet he was such a great bloke he said not to worry about annoying Colonel Forster with the bothersome paperwork? That he’d vouch for you, no worries about being missed?”

Wickham’s mouth flapped up and down, but no sound came out.

Colonel Fitzwilliam had managed to rouse Mary from the ground, and offered her his steady arm. Judging her injuries to be minor, still the poor woman would have a monstrous bruise on her cheek come morning.

“What do they teach you ladies in Meryton?” he asked, gently touching just below her injury. Despite her fazed appearance, the Colonel was certain her face was smarting most uncomfortably, and it would hurt doubly so if they didn’t get her home for the proper attentions.

“Darcy, leave the scoundrel to me and see these ladies home!” The Colonel raised his eyebrow at his cousin until Darcy understood that Mary needed medical attention. With the assistance of the two bystanders, the Colonel began walking Wickham away from the exhibit and towards Army headquarters that lay not two blocks to the south. Regardless of whether what Darcy said was completely true or not, though he was fairly confident his cousin had finally tricked the trickster, Richard was sure there would be other charges against Wickham from debts of honor with men of lower rank. The man never could pass up a card table. And if not, he would have him held in the brig until he could find relations of any number of the women he’d ruined.

Darcy looked down at Miss Elizabeth, his Elizabeth, and realized she was still shaking in his arms. Looking back at the exit, he saw the maid that the Colonel had pointed to before he left and waved at her to come down the steps to help. Not wishing to leave the ladies so soon, he reluctantly let go of Elizabeth which seemed to jar her back to the here and now.

“Mary!” she shouted, and rushed to her sister’s side to hold the poor woman who had come most valiantly to her defense.

“I’m alright, truly.”

Elizabeth shook her head and pulled her into an embrace as Mary began to quietly sob. She held her there as Mr. Darcy called his carriage and as the equipage appeared, Elizabeth pulled back to gently stroke Mary’s face.

“What were you thinking to lunge like that? You could have been gravely injured.”

Mary sniffed and looked up at her older sister before attempting a poor half smile since her face hurt so. “I would have gladly offered him the other cheek as well if they hadn’t dragged him away.”

For once, Mary’s penchant for quoting the Bible made Elizabeth laugh and she gave her sister another hug as Mr. Darcy assisted her into the carriage.

As the coach wound its way through the busy city streets, Elizabeth sneaked a glance at Mr. Darcy sitting on the bench next to the maid. His expression was dark and gloomy as he looked out the window at increasingly less fashionable areas of town.

Dozens of woeful thoughts crossed her mind as the ride was mostly silent. Her mouth still sore from where Wickham had attacked her person, though not nearly as injured as Mary’s cheek, brought back to her mind that she was utterly ruined. First the gossip at home, and now she wasn’t even a respectable woman in her aunt and uncle’s household. The grief of losing the last shred of her dignity weighed heavily and her chest began to shake with dry sobs. She adamantly refused to cry and instead hugged her arms to her chest to try to contain her emotion.