Papa wanted her to take action, but how? “It is not that simple, Papa. How can I confront either Miss Darcy or Mr. Darcy after what happened with Mr. Wickham?”
“I can think of nothing easier. You have done nothing wrong. You were simply taken in by a villain and a practiced liar, and you are not the only one. If a man of business like your uncle was deceived by him, then you can place the blame on your uncle, fair and square. You cannot allow embarrassment to block the road to your happiness.”
Elizabeth regarded her father dubiously. “I hope you are not pushing me to do this for the same reasons as Mama would. Mr. Darcy is a wealthy gentleman, but please do not push me into his arms because of that.”
“Into hisarms?” said Mr. Bennet. “Is that what you think I am doing?”
Elizabeth felt the heat rise to her cheeks, and Mr. Bennet chuckled. “So is that what all this is about? As you know, Lizzy,I would never encourage you tomarrysomeone you do not respect. Therefore, I have an important question to ask you. Do you love him?”
Elizabeth hesitated, but she could no longer hide it. “Yes, Papa. Yes, I do.”
Uttering the words brought a sense of wonder, and with it, a lifting of her spirits. She did not know if Mr. Darcy shared her feelings, but her father was right. She could not hold back out of fear or excessive pride.
“Well, then.” said Mr. Bennet. “Are you are certain he is the right person for you?”
“He is. He is a very kind person, even if he can be arrogant and dismissive at times.” It was terrifying to think of taking the next step. “But I do not know if he loves me.”
“If he does not love you, he is a fool.”
“Thank you for the sentiment, Papa, but that is not particularly helpful.”
“My dear child, it is possible he does not love you. It is possible that both he and Miss Darcy are pompous, puffed-up, condescending numbskulls. However, if you do not go back and at least try, you will always regret it. You have nothing to lose. You have already been cast out – twice. Would it make matters worse if you are cast out for a third time?”
She laughed, suddenly feeling giddy and reckless. “I suppose not.” She rose and kissed her father on the cheek. “Thank you, Papa. This is just what I needed.”
“Then hurry, child, and prepare to leave for London. I will make the arrangements for the journey.”
“Where do you think you are you going, Miss Lizzy Bennet?” said Mrs. Bennet, as Elizabeth was about to climb in the carriage. “We cannot spare the horses. They are needed for the harvest.”
“I am sending her back to London,” said Mr. Bennet, coming out of the library.
“Well, thank heavens for that! Someone had to talk some sense into her. She had better go back and grovel, for the sake of her sisters.”
“I would very much discourage you from groveling, Lizzy. Do not listen to your mother. Write at once when you arrive and give me the news. Send an express. I will frank it when it arrives.”
Mrs. Bennet gave a loud huff and turned to return to the parlor. “You will be the death of me one day, Mr. Bennet. You have no idea what I am going through. You have no compassion for my nerves.”
“I am sorry you think so, Mrs. Bennet,” replied her husband. “I hope your nerves will improve, now that you no longer have to set eyes on your daughter.”
“Well, then, I wish you success. You had better set out if you want to arrive in London before nightfall.”
“Thank you, Papa,” she said.
She felt a sense of feverish intensity as the carriage hurtled down the country lane towards the London Road, the rhythm of the horse’s hooves matching her heartbeat. It was terrifying and exciting to an equal degree. She did not know what to expect at the end of her journey, but at least she was doing something. Papa was right. She should not have waited this long. She should have done something about it.
It seemed forever until they reached the crossroads and took the main pike road to London. If only they could go faster! She worried about reaching London when it was already dark, and too late to call on anyone. Perhaps it might be better to stay at her uncle’s house and wait until the morning. Then she couldhave her uncle send a note requesting Mr. Darcy’s presence. Though if she followed this trajectory, she would not sleep a wink.
She would have to wait to decide what to do until she arrived. Meanwhile, there was nothing to do but bite her nails and look out onto the passing villages and golden fields ready for the reaping.
The coachman swerved to the left abruptly, forcing Elizabeth to cling to the latch for dear life as her shoulder rammed into the door. Indignant, she glared at the gleaming claret coach that was sweeping past them. A man’s face looked back at her as he passed. Elizabeth stared in disbelief at the face of none other than— Mr. Darcy himself, mirroring her astonishment.
Elizabeth gave the signal to stop, then put her head out of the door to speak to the coachman.
“Stop! Turn around the carriage. I need to speak to the occupant of the other carriage.”
“I cannot turn here, miss. We are approaching a bend in the road. It is dangerous to stop.”
“Then go! Hurry!” she said. “Find a good place to turn, then go after the coach we just passed.”
