“That seems to be a common affliction among your family today,” quipped Bingley.
Fitzwilliam chortled at Bingley’s statement. “I seriously hope you are not painting me with the same brush as my aunt, old man.”
“Of course not, Fitzwilliam,” said Bingley with a grin. “I merely suggested your reaction to my presence was similar.”
“She barged in and blurted it all to me before she realized Bingley was even in the room,” supplied Darcy. “Then she dressed him down for ‘eavesdropping’ on a private conversation.”
“That is our aunt,” said Fitzwilliam, shaking his head with disdain. “No doubt she considered our excellent Bingley as part of the furniture.”
“I am certain that I am about as much consequence to her!” exclaimed Bingley.
The two men roared with laughter, and Darcy reflected they had always gotten on well together, though they had been little in each other’s company.
“Then why are you still here, old man?” asked Fitzwilliam. “Did Lady Catherine demand you stay here to avoid your propensity to spread such stories all over London?”
“You injure me, Fitzwilliam,” said Bingley, holding a hand over his heart. “And you mistake me for my sister. The truth is much worse, for I offered my assistance in retrieving your cousin.”
“That may become your fatal error, Bingley,” said Fitzwilliam.
Though he jested, Darcy could see that Fitzwilliam hadalready returned to the problem of Anne. What he thought Darcy could not say, for Fitzwilliam was silent for several long moments. At length, he turned to Darcy and sighed.
“You had best summon the old bat—I suppose she is resting in one of your bedchambers?”
“Whether she rests I cannot say, though your suspicion is correct.”
Fitzwilliam nodded while Darcy stepped into the hall to see it done.
“Now,” said Fitzwilliam, taking charge of the situation, “can I suppose you sent men out to track our runaway?”
“Yes,” confirmed Darcy. “I sent some men to check the churches and the roads north, though they are paying the most attention to the Great North Road.”
Fitzwilliam nodded. “That is well, though if they find anything, it will only be word of Anne’s passing. Now, do you have any notion of the identity of our libertine?”
“None at all. I did not ask Aunt Catherine directly, but I suspect Anne left a letter explaining her intentions. She left no clues as to the identity of her companion.”
“Then there are a few possibilities. It is possible that they came to London and did not leave—as you know, Anne does not need to go to Gretna, for she is of age.”
“Fitzwilliam!” boomed the voice of their irascible aunt. “It is about time you arrived!”
“My cousin arrived long before I expected him,” said Darcy, much to his companions’ mirth.
“Be silent, Darcy,” snapped Lady Catherine. “We must see to Anne’s retrieval.”
“We shall be about it at once, Aunt,” said Fitzwilliam. “Now, is Darcy correct to assume Anne left you a letter?”
“He is,” said the lady.
“Then may I see it?” asked Fitzwilliam. “It may lead to someclue we have not considered.”
With a huff, Lady Catherine withdrew a letter from the pocket of her dress, the paper having become creased in its journey from Rosings. Fitzwilliam accepted it and opened the missive, reading through it while Darcy waited for him to give his verdict. When he finished reading, Fitzwilliam shook his head and put it down on the desk.
“Read it, Darcy, for I do not quite know what to make of it.”
Darcy obliged, picking up the paper and scanning through it. The letter was brief, no more than a few sentences, and succinct even for so short a letter. In it, Anne declared her intention to leave Rosings to pursue her heart’s desire by eloping. Anne also stated her intention to travel north to Scotland. When he read it, Darcy looked up at his cousin.
“Thatisstrange,” said Darcy, his eyes dropping to the letters again, reading it over to ensure he was not mistaken. “Why would Anne explicitly suggest she is to go to the north? If her paramour possessed a license, any priest in any parish in the kingdom would suffice.”
“I suspect the same reason that led you to send your men to watch the roads to the north,” said Fitzwilliam. “The man with whom she intends to elope does not possess the means to purchase a license or did not until Anne joined him. With that avenue denied to him, and as I cannot suppose Anne would endure the sort of lodgings in London necessary to hide them from our investigations, Scotland is his only option, for even if he bribed a priest to perform the ceremony, we could easily challenge its validity without a license or the reading of the banns.”
