A Modern Pride and Prejudice.

As soon as we pulled up to my house after an agonising three hour journey, I hopped out and ran to the front door, leaving my suitcase and a very bewildered uncle and aunt behind. My hand was about to grasp the doorknob so I could let myself in but the door opened and revealed a flustered Jane.

"Lizzy! You're home!" she cried, flinging her arms around me tightly. "Mum's upstairs, she's completely beside herself."

Jane lowered her voice and looked at our uncle and aunt as they struggled up the driveway with my suitcase. "She's talking about getting the police involved."

Before I could answer, my aunt stepped next to me and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. She didn't have to say a word, I knew what she wanted; my mother was upstairs in her room and undoubtedly, her relations were eager to see her. This was an opportunity to find out the truth in a way that text messages and phone calls couldn't expose - everything was so much more personal and real when face to face with someone. We now had unlimited time to discuss every possibility with the whole family, my father obviously excluded whilst he was ambling through Cornwall, trying to find Lily and Wickham.

I graciously thanked my uncle for carrying my suitcase into the house, his sweaty and red face letting me know that I was lucky the circumstances were in my favour. I had half expected a disapproving lecture on how I was old enough to carry my own things now but all he asked was for a cup of tea. It was a sign of the seriousness of the situation.

My aunt was already hurrying up the stairs, calling to her exhausted husband to get a move on. With them distracted, I pulled Jane into the kitchen with me. There was something that had been playing on my mind.

After flicking the kettle on, I sank into a chair at the table and dropped my head into my hands.

"Jane - she's with George Wickham! Of all the people..." I groaned.

"Lizzy, this isn't your fault. I know what you're about to say and I'll repeat - this isn't your fault!" Jane said determinedly. I felt the gentle pressure of her hand squeeze my arm and I peered through my fingers at her.

She looked ill. Lily running away had clearly distressed her; Jane was such a loving person and it was difficult for her to understand that someone could do something as terrible as what George Wickham had done to Darcy, his sister and now us. We hadn't talked about him since the day I told her, nor had we confined in anyone else. Though we hadn't said a word about it, we both had silently agreed that it was not our place to reveal the true horrors of George's character, or William's unfortunate past. It hadn't seemed right, casually chatting about the misfortune of William and Georgia Darcy to our friends and family. I hadn't even told Charlotte.

"But perhaps we could have avoided all of this if I'd been willing enough to talk about it? Lily would have been warned or something - "

Jane pulled my hands from my face. Her blonde hair was falling out of its usually elegant bun, her eyes sharp - she almost looked...fierce.

"Elizabeth Bennet, you stop this right now. You're blaming yourself for something you have no part of. This is about Lily and George. Do you think I haven't had these thoughts while you were away? I was punishing myself for not thinking to speak up but I realised the chances were that Lily probably would have done something like this sooner or later. I love her but - " Jane broke off, seemingly at the end of her miraculous streak of anger. She looked guilty.

I managed a grin. "Jane, you are without a doubt one of the nicest people on the planet. Don't beat yourself up knowing that this frustrates you. It frustrates all of us."

Jane nodded sadly. "You're right. But who knows? Perhaps this will turn out well..."

I snorted in disbelief. Okay, so maybe Jane's incredible optimism and a desire to trust the good in people hadn't totally deserted her. I didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

Noticing the kettle had boiled and was already starting to cool again, I busied myself with making the tea. I tried to force myself to listen to Jane; this wasn't my problem and it wasn't my responsibility to resolve. I felt like I still owed the complete truth about Wickham to my family. They should at least be informed of his maliciousness and greed. I couldn't think of why he would want to run away with Lily though - she was four years younger then him and though I'm not one to disregard true love because of age, I highly doubted that this is what it was.

Despite Jane's hopes, I feared that there would be only one end for all of this and that would be badly.

As I stacked various chipped mugs onto a tray to carry upstairs, I turned to Jane.

"Do you think we should tell them about George's past?"

Jane hesitated - she had been piling biscuits onto a plate - and took a breath.

"I've been wondering about that too and I'm not so sure we should - "

"What?! But after everything that's happened?" I gasped. Surely Jane was going mad?

"No, hear me out. What would telling the truth about him amount to? We'll just worry mother even more and you never know, maybe George has noble intentions or an ulterior motive? Maybe he does love Lily. We can't be certain. The truth won't change anything, Lizzy. I think it'll just make things worse."

Jane had a point, as always. She just had that uncanny ability to perceive the world from both perspectives, which is what I sorely lacked.

"You're right. We should leave it - but if this escalates, I think we should agree of telling them. I just don't want to hide stuff from mum and dad at a time like this." I said, picking up the tea tray. "Come on, we can mentally prepare for mum as we climb the stairs."

Jane smiled. "She's upset, it's natural she's going to be a little..."

"Insane?" I laughed.

"Well, no. That's not the word I'd use."

"Of course it isn't. Have I ever told you that you're too nice? Especially when it comes to mum."

She didn't say anything, just delicately bit into a biscuit and led the way to our mother's room.