Despite the best efforts of Colonel Fitzwilliam and indeed, the entire household staff of Rosings Park, with and without orders issued from Lady Catherine, Mr Darcy would not be moved. Literally. Apart from occasionally needing to relieve himself, Mr Darcy wouldn't leave his bed, let alone his room. He refused all food and would drink water only when necessary or if pressed, and lay curled up away from the door, staring blanking at the heavy curtains blocking out all sunlight from the room. But he didn't sleep, he kept replaying her words and tone of voice in his mind, worse than a nightmare. The Colonel tried everything he could think of to rouse him from his present state, with no success and by the time 8 days had passed, he was seriously concerned, noting again his cousin's sunken eyes and fragile body becoming weaker and weaker as the days dragged on. But what could he do? He rebuffed all help and wouldn't hear any mention of Elizabeth after that first day. As for Darcy, he knew her words rang true and knew that even if she never forgave him, never wanted to see him again, he had to change himself, to be a better man, to be the kind of man she could respect. But the longer he dwelt on it, the harder it became to commit to action, to even conceive of facing the world again.

...

Elizabeth ambled along the path that was so well known to her now, gently pulling a wild flower from the grass and admiring its petals. It was the part of each day she looked forward to the most now and her curiosity couldn't be sated. What had started out as apprehension, soon gave way to questions and filling her mind with all kinds of information she never dreamt of learning about Fitzwilliam Darcy. Inhaling the scent, and closing her eyes as she absorbed the sunlight, Elizabeth's mouth quirked up in a smile. What a quandary he was, such a contradiction of stern and kind, though she hadn't realised that part of his personality until very recently. The Colonel had been most diligent in his information, sometimes too direct and she could sense him analysing her reactions to his tales. But her favourites were always stories of them as boys at Pemberley, running amok, getting each other into and out of all kinds of mischief. In the more sombre moments, after hearing of losing his parents and the responsibility loaded onto his shoulders, Elizabeth mourned the loss of his childhood, cut off so abruptly, and couldn't deny the guilt that washed over her.

Did she have to be so cruel? Of course, his proposal was sorely lacking, but did she have to deliberately try to hurt him? She didn't know, couldn't have known all that she knew about him now, but she couldn't help but feel remorse in her poor manner of refusal. Not the refusal itself, her mind insisted, she was perfectly right in her refusal.

Her footsteps paused briefly as she happened upon the Colonel in his usual spot by the tree, but this time, the shadow over his face concerned her. He looked lost in thought and worried.

"Where is my usual jovial companion this morning?" Elizabeth joked, trying to lighten the mood, "what stories are on the agenda today?" When he turned to face her, frowning and worried, she immediately hurried forward. "I hope it's nothing serious?" Her voice was gentle but demanding answers.

"Indeed, I hardly know what to tell you, Miss Bennett, I thought it would only be a matter of time before he snapped out of his melancholy and decided on a new course of action, but he has not. Nor does he look like he will anytime soon." Colonel Fitzwilliam grimaced and turned away, searching for his words. "Please believe I don't blame you for this, but every time I see him, I feel that he's wasting away. He's not the same person he was and I'm..." She felt helpless as he choked back a sob, "I'm scared that he's given up. He hasn't eaten for more than a week and he looks so frail..." He look up to see her pained expression, "Forgive me, I didn't mean to burden you with this."

"No, please don't be anxious on my account. I'm prepared to accept my part of the blame in this whole affair." Elizabeth wrung her hands, unconsciously destroying the flower in the process. "I only wish this had never happened."

"So do I." The Colonel sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I find I am not myself today, Miss Bennett. Will you forgive me if I cut short our meeting today? I should like to tend to my cousin if I can."

"But of course." She dipped habitually into a curtsey, "Please tell me what I can do to help, though I fear it won't be of much use." Elizabeth laid a hand on his arm, giving it a quick squeeze of support before she removed it again. "Until tomorrow?" Seeing his nod, she turned away and started back down the path, going several metres before she stopped again and turned back. "Colonel!" she called out and waiting until he looked at her, all at once seeming tired and much older than his years, "I'm sorry," she almost whispered, casting her eyes downwards.

"I know," came his soft reply and then he left, disappearing into the trees.

A tiny splash of water dropped onto her cheek and Elizabeth found she was crying. It was all her fault.

...

Colonel Fitzwilliam returned to Rosings Park only to find the servants scurrying around like scared mice and the bellowing voice of his aunt echoing through the halls.

"Enough!" the screech sounded out, "I will not accept this behaviour any longer. I am quite put out!" Lady Catherine entered the room with a thunderous expression on her face, waving her handkerchief towards him. "He refuses to behave like a gentleman and do his duty to me. I will not have my routine interrupted. I will force his hand."

The Colonel looked grim, "I know you are only looking out for him, Aunt Catherine, but really, I think he needs more time. I don't know what we can do..."

"Laziness!" She cut him off abruptly. "Idleness! I would never have expected it of him. You, on the other hand." Lady Catherine scowled at him and he tried not to take it personally. "I have asked the Collinses and their guests to dine tomorrow night. Shake him out of this ridiculous behaviour and start performing his duty as my nephew again."

Colonel Fitzwilliam cringed, trying to think up a plausible excuse. "Aunt, do you think that's wise? I mean perhaps it is better not to involve others in our business?"

"Nonsense! They are all indebted to me, they will do my bidding." She began to walk off as though the conversation were finished, leaving Fitzwilliam to chase after her.

"But suppose Darcy is really ill? You would not want to expose your guests to his sickness, would you? I know how you care for everyone's well-being..." He was grasping at straws and knew by the look on her face that it was hopeless. He didn't relish the task of informing his cousin.

"Really Fitzwilliam! I am surprised at you! Darcy is spoiled and we are indulging him too much. That is all. And I beg you not to contradict me any further!" Lady Catherine turned her nose up at him and with a click of her fingers, summoned a servant who was unlucky enough to have walked by. "Now make yourself useful and tell Darcy that he will be expected for dinner tomorrow night at 7 o'clock sharp. I shall brook no refusal!"

He bowed in submission as she stomped away, commencing barking orders yet again.

"Once more, unto the fray", the Colonel muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. This was not going to go down well...

...

The smallest flicker alerted him that Darcy had actually heard him enter and begin the conversation, but still no response. With a sigh, he continued, waiting for the inevitable reaction.

"So she has invited the Collinses and their guests for tomorrow night." Nothing, not even a twitch of an eyelid. Well, looks like he would have to spell it out. "Which means Miss Bennet will once again be gracing our presence." There! That did it, the look of horror and almost immediate paling. He jerked around to face his cousin in disbelief. At least he got a reaction, the Colonel supposed.

"No" it was a whisper but the force behind it made him grimace.

"I'm sorry Darce. I tried my best to get you out of it but..."

"I'm not going." His face was both fierce and scared. "I won't see her again".

"Darcy, I'm telling you, you don't have a choice. Lady Catherine will not leave you alone, I firmly believe she will come and drag you down kicking and screaming herself if need be, but you must be there."

"Fitz... I can't..." Darcy sounded broken, like a shell of his former self. Completely empty.

"I know." He sank down on the bed beside him and put a hand on his shoulder tentatively. "But it won't be all that bad, I promise..." He had been hesitating for a long while, but knew he needed to come clean. "I've been talking to Elizabeth, er, Miss Bennet." At Darcy's look of surprise and hurt, he quickly continued. "I was concerned about you and you didn't want to talk so I needed to find out just how bad it was!" Still he looked betrayed.

"But she was like you, didn't want to talk about it. So we talked about other things, happier things."

"And just how long have you been having these conversations with her?" His voice shook a little and held a note of bitterness.

"It's not what you think, cousin, I would never do that to you." Darcy looked away in despair. "She held a misguided view of you, I gather, and I set out to correct her." His head whipped around again to stare at him and Colonel Fitzwilliam smirked a little. "I believe I have started to soften her annoyance at you. She's a very curious girl, always full of questions!" He watched as a small smile ghosted across his cousin's face. "I've been regaling her with stories of our childhood adventures."

"Does she...?" Darcy could hardly form the words, not sure what he wanted to say. Did she still hate him? Would she speak to him again? Could she ever bring herself to forgive him?

"I don't really know what she thinks, honestly," Fitzwilliam rubbed at his chin, grinning. "She doesn't reveal much about herself. Must be a great card-player, I imagine."

Darcy shook his head with a smile, lost in memories, "She doesn't like cards..."

He let him reminisce for a few moments longer before he ventured the next remark. "I'm sure she will be happy to see you at dinner. Perhaps there can be a truce..."

He didn't say anything in reply, but the Colonel could already notice a difference in his posture, as though a weight had been lifted and there was hope. He left him staring out the window and decided to take another walk. Maybe he would see Miss Bennet again and prepare her a little for the following night. He wouldn't despair of a happy ending just yet...