Fun?What sort of fun did she refer to—the sort Wickham taught? I found the suggestion repulsive. “Have you no respect?”
She jutted out her chin. “I am old enough to marry.”
I bit back the sharp retort on my tongue. Wickham would never settle for a penniless girl with no connections or advantageto him. “You are not ready to marry if you would exchange your affection for a man’s empty promises.”
“George is going to marry me.” Her tone was proud, defiant. They were the exact words my own sister had uttered to me only months ago, but Miss Lydia shed no tears of remorse or doubt.
“Why would he marry you if you give him what he wants without the obligation of marriage?”
“He would never!”
“He would.”
“He would not!” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Do you know how many maidens he has ruined?” I did not need to know the precise number. One was too many.
“He did not love them like he loves me.”
Her overconfidence was so ridiculous, I pitied her. I pitied her family and the lives she likely would destroy with her thoughtlessness. “You are willing to subject yourself, your family, to ruin for him?”
“I will be the first among my sisters to marry,” she replied boldly.
Foolish child!The last of my patience vanished. “Tell me, Miss Lydia, how long will he wait before he finds another young girl to divert himself with when your belly is swollen with his child?”
From the look on her face, it was apparent she had never considered that possibility.
“Go to your mother,” I ordered.
Her bottom lip stuck out, but she did not argue.
To Mr. Denny, I added, “Take her to Mrs. Bennet.”
I hoped I had scared enough sense into the thoughtless child to keep her away from harm until I could find her father. It fell to me to warn the man or have the loss of his family’s reputation on my conscience. I could not rely on Colonel Forster to keep every soldier in his regiment under firm regulation. Miss Lydiawas too much under Wickham’s spell to resist another attempt, and I had no intention of following either of them around like a nursemaid.
After watching Mr. Denny lead Miss Lydia to Mrs. Bennet, I began my search in the ballroom. Mr. Bennet was not there, nor was he in the card room. He was not in the dining room or at the refreshment table.
Having exhausted all the rooms open for the ball on that floor, I went upstairs to Bingley’s library, walking the length of the dark hall until I came to the last door. It was slightly ajar.
CHAPTER 2
The door squeaked as I pushed it open. Bingley had not yet replaced the antique latch, though it needed to be done—as Bingley had discovered after closing the library door behind him and becoming trapped inside until I found him an hour later. With multiple other distractions taking precedence over a room that neither Bingley nor his sisters used very often, he had simply informed me to make free use of the library... only warning me that I should not, for any reason, close the door.
Moonbeams shone through the gap in the curtains nearest the door, providing me with just enough light by which to see. It was cool and blissfully quiet inside—the perfect environment for a respite. Had I not had an important duty to perform, I would certainly have lingered. Knowing, however, that I would be ill-at-ease until my obligation was properly dispatched, I walked to the nearest arrangement of furniture, hoping to find Mr. Bennet asleep in a cushioned chair. He was not there.
Traveling farther down the length of the room, I inspected each chair and reading nook for a slumbering figure until I reached the unlit fireplace at the end of the empty room.
Where the devil was Mr. Bennet? He would not have departed without his family, would he? Certainly not. Perhaps I had passed over him. I would have to return to the festivities and search anew.
Once I found him, I would have to reveal what I had prevented in a manner he could not ignore. While I rarely lacked confidence in my abilities, I was not certain he would heed my warning. After all, I had been unable to convince my own father of Wickham’s duplicity.
How tiresome it was to be tied to someone who constantly called my family’s honor into question! I thanked the heavens that Wickham was only my father’s godson! Had we been blood relations, his depravity would have cast a shadow over the Darcy name. Much like Miss Lydia’s shameful behavior would do to Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth if left unchecked. To allow Wickham’s selfishness to threaten the reputations of an entire family when two of the daughters were above reproach would be a terrible disservice. I could not guard my silence, though I resented any involvement with a ne’er-do-well who had lost my good opinion years ago.
Frustrated to find myself embroiled in yet another of Wickham’s ruinous schemes when I thought I had washed my hands of him months ago, I steeled myself to return to the throngs below for another attempt to find the elusive parent. I had reached the middle of the library when a flurry of movement in the moonlight caught my attention. I had time only to raise my arm before the door banged shut and the intruder leaned against the solid barrier to heave a loud, decidedly feminine sigh.
“No!” Panic added urgency to my voice and quickness to my step.
She screamed and jumped out of my path.
