“Excuse me, Lady Catherine,” said Darcy, unwilling to endure his aunt’s diatribes on the subject. “You say Anne eloped? With whom?”
“The identity of her paramour is unknown to me, for Anne was not explicit.” Lady Catherine’s tone suggested personal affront her daughter had not revealed as much to her. “A witness saw her enter a carriage in Hunsford Village and drive off. Now make haste, for I will not allow my daughter to be caught in a compromising situation with some scoundrel we cannot even name.”
“Just a moment, Aunt,” said Darcy, sitting down at his desk.“We cannot dash off in pursuit when we do not even know where she has gone.”
“What are you doing?” demanded Lady Catherine when he began writing a quick note.
“Writing to Fitzwilliam,” was Darcy’s curt reply. “We will need his help to track Anne.”
The note completed a moment later, Darcy rang for his butler, and when the man appeared instructed the letter to be delivered post haste. “Also,” said Darcy, “send a few stout men out on horseback to see if there is any word of Miss de Bourgh’s recent passing. Tell them to concentrate on the roads leading north.”
“This man may have taken her to a church in London,” said Gates, understanding the inference at once. “If he has, it may already be too late.”
Darcy frowned. Anne was not some girl of sixteen—she could marry wherever she chose, though the problem of a license might delay them, which made Gretna as likely as any other. “I suppose it depends on whether they thought that far in advance.”
“If they did not purchase a license in advance, there may be some time to find them. The church does not produce licenses in an instant.”
Darcy nodded and turned to Gates, who spoke up at once.
“I shall send some men to canvass the nearby churches and the rest toward the north. How far should I tell them to go?”
“No further than the edge of the city at present,” replied Darcy. He looked to Lady Catherine and asked: “How long ago did this happen?”
“Early this morning, perhaps before eight o’clock,” replied Lady Catherine. “I set out in pursuit as soon as I learned of it.”
This meant, Darcy mused, that she had set off for Darcy’s house intending to beg his aid. It was not a poor notion, for Darcy was better equipped to see to the search, and Fitzwilliameven better. With a nod, Darcy turned back to his butler.
“Inform the men to concentrate their search on the Great North Road, though they should not ignore other potential paths north.”
“Very good, sir. I shall set up a system of runners to return here with word should one of them come across their trail.”
“Good man,” approved Darcy.
The butler departed and Darcy turned back to his aunt, who had apparently—and belatedly—noticed Bingley’s presence.
“What do you do here?” snapped she. “What is this perversion of listening to others’ conversations?”
“If you recall, Aunt,” said Darcy, sharing a wry look with Bingley, who appeared unaffected by Lady Catherine’s displeasure, “you barged into my study with nary a by your leave and blurted your news without verifying I was alone.”
Lady Catherine did not appear to appreciate the reminder, for she huffed her annoyance. Darcy took this as enough to offer an introduction, which he did with alacrity. Bingley, the good fellow that he was, bowed to Darcy’s irascible aunt; Lady Catherine barely deigned to acknowledge him in response.
“Very well. I trust you will keep this matter strictly to yourself?”
“I shall be as silent as the grave, Lady Catherine,” said Bingley solemnly, though Darcy caught a hint of an amused glint in his eye.
“Then you may leave us, for this does not concern you.”
“If I might beg your pardon,” said Bingley, “I am Darcy’s friend and I am trustworthy, for I know of no firmer friend than your nephew. It appears you have a bit of trouble at present; I will assist in any way I can.”
“You, assist?” said Lady Catherine in her usually tactless manner. “How do you supposeyoucould assist those such as I and my family?”
“Another man to help should we track down our quarry would not go amiss, Aunt,” said Darcy, hoping to head her off before she said something to truly offend him. “I trust Bingley implicitly.”
Lady Catherine appeared to consider this, then she shrugged as if it did not signify in the slightest. “If you will assist, I shall not dissuade you.”
Then Lady Catherine turned away from Bingley and fixed her beady glare on Darcy. “You know I hold you personally responsible for this travesty, do you not?”
“So, I gathered,” was Darcy’s wry reply.
