“Yes,” replied Mr. Wickham. “Anne has likely wandered into a shop to look at ribbons or other such nonsense, giving no thought for how her disappearance would worry me. I would be much obliged if you consented to help me search for her.”
It was not what Lydia wished to hear if her pursed lips were any sign. It was not in Lydia’s nature to refuse such a handsome man, as she proved with her next words.
“Of course, Mr. Wickham. We should be happy to help you find her.”
“Excellent,” said the man. “You have proven the fond memories I retain of this neighborhood with your willingness to help. Anne is slender, approaching gauntness, and has dark brown hair, a shade darker than even your sister, Elizabeth. She is also perhaps the same height and is wearing a pale blue gown with a navy spenser over top.”
“A spenser?” snorted Lydia. “On such a warm day as this?”
“Anne is of a delicate constitution, Miss Lydia,” replied Mr. Wickham, not caring at all for Lydia’s rudeness. “Her mother insists she dress warmly, so she does not catch an ague.”
Lydia regarded Mr. Wickham with disbelief, a feeling Kitty could own to understanding. Though it was still early June, it was a day of such warmth that she felt herself perspiring in her thin day dress with no other encumbrance. Saying nothing else, Lydia assented and pulled Kitty away back up the street toward Longbourn, promising to inform Mr. Wickham the moment they discovered the woman’s location.
“There is something wrong with this, Lydia,” murmured Kittyto her younger sister. “I think we should return to Longbourn and leave Mr. Wickham to find his companion.”
“Nonsense, Kitty,” said Lydia, brushing her opinion away. “Do you not think it strange that Mr. Wickham is traveling with a young woman alone?”
It was at times like this that Lydia proved that she too knew how to think critically, though Kitty judged that Lydia rarely used that ability.
“No, Kitty, I suspect something else at work here, and I mean to discover what it is.” Lydia snorted with suppressed laughter. “Do you not suppose he is eloping with her? Given the description, she sounds like a dowdier version of Mary. How much of a joke would it be if handsome Mr. Wickham were to elope with a woman as unappealing as thisAnnesounds?”
“A joke it may be, but I doubt it is one to cause much laughter.”
“Yet, I mean to laugh as much as I can,” persisted Lydia. “It shall serve him right for what he has done since he came to Meryton. Imagine it, Kitty! The most handsome officer we have ever seen pursued Mary King, a nasty, freckly little thing as far as Liverpool, and has now involved himself with a waiflike woman whose defining features are her sickly and cross temperament. When he departs with her, I shall laugh at him for his future with such a contemptuous creature.”
“I cannot but suppose he prefers her for a reason other than her face or form,” replied Kitty.
“And I cannot disagree,” snorted Lydia. “No doubt she is some heiress with a fabulous fortune, for who else would marry such a woman?”
Kitty decided it would be better not to respond. Though she agreed with Lydia in general, Lydia could be a little too eager to say nasty things about another; as she often directed her comments at Kitty herself, she had intimate knowledge of it anddid not wish to listen to her sister’s unkindness.
For a time, they searched along the avenue, peering into shops or even entering for a moment to search locations they could not see from the window. Wherever this woman had taken herself, she did not mean to be found, for all their searching was fruitless. Kitty was on the point of insisting they abandon the search altogether and return home when the sight of a pair of familiar figures caught her attention.
“Look, is that not Jane and Lizzy? They appear to be making for Longbourn—we should go with them.”
It was their sisters without a doubt, for they had left Meryton and were just passing into the trees to the north of the town when Kitty espied them. What she had not noticed was the figure who walked with them.
“It looks like Mr. Wickham’s lady is with them,” observed Lydia.
“It is difficult to say,” tried Kitty, noting the woman in blue walking with them.
“The color of her dress and spenser is exactly as Mr. Wickham described,” said Lydia. As they watched, the ladies disappeared into the trees, and Lydia added: “It is difficult to tell much more from this distance, though she appears thinner than Lizzy. Come, Kitty, let us inform Mr. Wickham.”
“I am not certain that is wise, Lydia,” said Kitty, fretfully pulling on Lydia’s arm. “Come, I think it is better if we follow our sisters home to Longbourn.”
“No, Kitty,” said Lydia, pulling her arm away. “I mean to discover what Mr. Wickham is about.”
As Lydia walked away, Kitty watched her. She was torn between following her and keeping her from trouble or hurrying after Elizabeth and warning her of what Lydia meant to do. As the woman was leaving Meryton and in the company of her sister, Kitty was certain she did not wish to be discovered by Mr.Wickham. What that meant in relation to the man’s story she could not say, but visions of the woman as a kidnapping victim while Lizzy heroically saved her danced through Kitty’s head.
In the end, it was the need to ensure Lydia’s wellbeing from her headstrong ways that decided Kitty’s course and sent her following Lydia. Kitty had not liked the way Mr. Wickham had changed as if he were a court jester acting out a drama for his liege lord. A man that mercurial might be a danger to her sister, a danger Kitty meant to mitigate.
It took them some time to find Mr. Wickham, a circumstance Kitty thought was beneficial, allowing Lizzy precious time to reach the safety of Longbourn. After the fact, she was certain Mr. Wickham had essayed to search the lesser traveled roads of the town and some smaller establishments one could find if they knew the area. The mile walk to Longbourn would take perhaps fifteen minutes to accomplish, longer if one dawdled on the path. Kitty had seen nothing of hesitation in Jane and Elizabeth’s gaits as they had walked away, and she was certain they would cover the distance quickly.
Thus, she distracted Lydia where she could, pointed out a bolt of cloth in the dressmakers or a lovely shade of ribbon in the haberdashers as they passed. It was nothing they had not already seen that day, but Lydia was often easily distracted, and that day was one of those days. It was more than five minutes before they found Mr. Wickham, perhaps closer to ten.
“Is your father’s estate much farther?” asked Anne for what seemed the tenth time. “It seems we have traveled a hundred miles rather than only one.”
Elizabeth shook her head, using every ounce of her willpower to avoid snapping at the young woman beside her. On an occasion or two, Elizabeth had stayed in London for a time with her aunt and uncle, making the journey back to Longbournwith them when they returned for Christmas or some other event. On those occasions, traveling with her younger cousins, who were well-behaved children, had been a trial, for they had often asked how much longer it would be until the journey was complete. Anne’s behavior reminded Elizabeth of her cousins, not a flattering comparison, considering she was a woman of five and twenty while the eldest of her cousins was only ten.
