She would have to go to London and speak with Mr Darcy herself. It was terrifying to even think of doing something so bold, so rash. Never in her life had she been the one Mr Bennet had to worry about. If she did this, her father would likely lock her in her room until she was five and thirty. Perhaps longer. In her bid to save Georgiana, she might well jeopardise her own chances of getting married and having a family. If only her father would take action himself! But Mr Bennet would never consider such a thing. If she laid the entire problem before him, he would only tell her not to interfere.
Elizabeth stood again and began pacing, alternating between chewing her fingernail and whispering aloud to herself, but not loud enough to wake anyone from their peaceful slumbers.
“It is only three hours to London on the public stage. I have enough money to make the journey, and may go directly to my aunt and uncle’s house on Gracechurch Street as soon as I’ve seen Mr Darcy. No one will suspect that I’ve been to London by myself, especially if Uncle puts me on the next stage home the following morning,” she whispered. Excitement built within her. It could work. If she were careful, if she were clever, she could save Miss Darcy from her folly.
She had Mr Darcy’s address in London. Miss Darcy had given it to her so they might exchange letters. That was before she had decided not to join her brother in London. If only she had not gone back on her original plan! Miss Darcy would not have met Mr Wickham and become reacquainted with the scoundrel.
“It is the only way,” Elizabeth said after several minutes. After thinking through every variable, she was fairly certain she could make the journey without damaging her reputation. Glancing up at the clock, she realised she only had a few hours in which to lay her plans, pack her small bag, and leave the house before dawn so she could be in time to board the coach for London.
Elizabeth stoked the fire with a small log, which would afford her enough light to write her father a note.
Sitting at the desk, she took a steadying breath and began her missive.
∞∞∞
Dearest Papa,
Forgive me, but I must do what I am about to do to save a friend from utter disaster. I have no choice.
I have gone to London. Please do not worry. I must speak with Mr Darcy on a matter of great urgency — perhaps even life and death — regarding his sister. He must come immediately, that he may prevent her from making a grave mistake. I will visit the baker when I arrive in Meryton beforeboarding the stage and ask that her husband walk me to the station. No one will suspect I am a woman travelling alone if he is there to see me off. Once I arrive in London, I will go straight to Mr Darcy’s home and then will seek refuge with my aunt and uncle.
Please know that I am sorry for having to do this without asking for your consent. Nothing but the most desperate need to save a friend could make me dishonour you in such a way. Please, I beg you not to worry. Uncle will take a care to make sure I am safely aboard the next stage home.
Your loving daughter,
Lizzy
∞∞∞
Elizabeth read and reread the letter. It was a hasty note, but it would have to do. Whatever the consequences were when she arrived home, she would endure with humility and patience. Her mother would be in a tizzy for weeks, and her sisters would likely hound their father to let them go off to visit their aunt and uncle in London until he cursed Elizabeth’s name. But she must do it, no matter the consequences. Miss Darcy was too sweet a girl to allow her to step into the trap that Mr Wickham was laying for her. Miss Darcy had been sheltered from the world — as was right — and had not the slightest idea of what she was doing. Mr Wickham was a wolf in sheep’s clothing if she had ever seen one. Elizabeth would do whatever she must to keep her young friend safe. If that meant receiving the scolding of a lifetime from her father, then so be it.
Chapter 21
Elizabeth set out for Meryton, her heart beating as wildly as if she were about to go into battle. In one sense, she was. She was about to leave everything she knew behind and embark on a journey that no young lady of good family would have dreamed of taking on their own. Her concern for Miss Darcy was worth the risk. Elizabeth took a deep breath and told herself to stop worrying. She had laid her plans as best she could, thinking them over half the night until she was confident that she had avoided as much risk as she could and found the best chance of saving Miss Darcy. Now, all that remained was to carry out her plan.
She had approximately two hours before the household awakened and was about their day. Her father would find her note in the library, nestled on his favourite plush chair near the window. He would find it before he went into the dining room before breakfast. And she could only hope he would not come after her and cause their family undue stress. Her uncle would take good care of her as soon as she was done warning Mr Darcy of what his sister was about to do.
Elizabeth entered Meryton as the shadows began creeping along the dirt lane. Soon, the sun would rise over the distant hills, and by that time, she would be well on her way to London. She stopped in at the baker’s house, just as she had told her father she would do, and the man of the house was more than obliging as she asked him to walk with her in her father’s stead.
“It is an early morning for you to be about, Miss Bennet. I would be happy to walk you the rest of the way to the stagecoach, since your father asks a favour of me,” he said.
Elizabeth felt guilty for telling such an outright lie, but it would be a valuable safeguard for her reputation, having a man stand by her until it was time for her to get on the stage.
She did not have long to wait. Once she arrived at the stagecoach, she handed her money to the baker so that he might purchase her ticket for her, then handed up her bag to the driver to sit atop the vehicle. Soon, they were bumping along down the country road toward London.
It was a difficult journey, not only because of all the bumping along but for the exhaustion that overwhelmed her. She had slept barely two hours before she had been forced to awaken and be off on her journey. Every time her head tilted in sleep, she was either jostled awake by the coach lurching to the side, or by a snarl from a fellow passenger who did not appreciate her using their shoulder as a pillow.
She took a brief ride in a hackney cab to Mr Darcy’s townhouse, and after paying the driver, looked up at the impressive house with a mixture of awe and trepidation. Elizabeth clutched the small bag to her chest, her heart thundering in her ears. There was no turning back now. She hadcome so far and risked so much. Nothing must deter her from her purpose.
Elizabeth walked up the steps and knocked on the door. A few moments later, an older woman came to answer the door. “Yes, Miss? Can I help you?” the woman asked.
“Yes, I hope so,” Elizabeth replied. “My name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I have come to see Mr Darcy on a matter of urgency. It concerns his sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy.”
The woman’s eyebrows went up in concern at the mention of Miss Darcy. “His sister, you say? Has something happened?”
“Not yet,” Elizabeth replied. “But she is in grave danger. Please, I must speak to him immediately. If he says he is not at home, will you please tell him it is a matter of life and death?”
The woman looked even more stricken but invited Elizabeth in to wait in the foyer. She tried to stand still, but could not help pacing back and forth as she waited. It was taking much too long for Mr Darcy to come down. Each minute increased the danger that Mr Wickham might run away with Georgiana before he could return to Meryton and intervene.
