They found him in bed, pale, his right hand pressed against his left arm.
“Papa! What happened? Dear lord, are you bleeding?”
“It is a small wound, a silly accident,” he whispered.
“A silly accident? What happened, Papa?” Elizabeth cried desperately.
“The master was cut with a knife,” John, the Gardiners’ servant, supplied. “I think he needs to see a doctor.”
“I shall send for the apothecary in a moment,” Mrs Gardiner said. “But, Brother, what happened?”
“Lydia ran away last night. She left a silly letter for Kitty… Apparently, she has eloped with that officer Wickham. She said they would go to Gretna Green to marry… I followed them as soon as we discovered her disappearance, but they were a few hours ahead. It was soon apparent they had not gone to Scotland. I followed their trail to London instead… Where is my brother Gardiner? He must help me find them. We cannot wait another day.”
He spoke with great difficulty, and Elizabeth could barely breathe. She heard the words, but her mind struggled to understand them. How could Lydia elope from their home? Why would Mr Wickham wish to marry her? She had no money, no connections, nothing to tempt him. Lydia would be more of a burden than a gain for him. Did he even have enough money to travel all the way to Gretna Green? And if marriage over the anvil was their intention, why had they come to London instead? What evil plans had that man conceived this time? How could they be found in such a vast city before Lydia was ruined forever?
“I shall send for my husband and the apothecary this very instant,” Mrs Gardiner said. “While we wait for them, I shall bring you some herbal tea, Brother. Please try to stay calm. We shall resolve this.”
Mrs Gardiner left, and Elizabeth stayed frozen by the bed, gazing at her father. She had never seen him so pale, so shocked, so lost.
“We are ruined, girls… Our family will never recover after this shame. Our reputation is in tatters, and it is entirely my fault. I have been a worthless father. I did not take proper care of any of you. How could you ever forgive me for ruining your lives?”
“Papa, please do not say such things! They are not true! You are the best father one could hope for,” Jane whispered tearfully, sitting on the bed and taking his hand.
Elizabeth’s heart was racing, and her head was spinning. The fault was hers; she was to blame. If she had shared with her father just a small part of what she knew about that horrible man, the tragedy could have been avoided. Why did she not write to him, particularly after Mr Wickham had visited the Gardiners’ home? But how could anyone even imagine the man would have any sort of interest in Lydia?
Elizabeth fought her tears while trying to show some composure for her father and sister’s sake. Her heart and her mind had both lost all hope; she knew there could be no favourable conclusion to their situation. How could they find the fugitives? And even if they found them, how could they conceal the shame of the elopement? Would Mr Wickham truly marry Lydia? Even if he agreed to it, could they force a girl of fifteen to marry such a man?
A few moments later, Mrs Gardiner returned with more distressing news.
“Brother, my husband and the apothecary will be here soon. But Mr Darcy has just arrived. Apparently, he has news about Mr Wickham.”
Chapter 9
Elizabeth stood by the window of her father’s guest chamber, arms folded tightly against the sudden chill that had nothing to do with the spring afternoon. Jane sat beside their father’s bed, holding his uninjured hand, her face pale. Mr Bennet lay propped against pillows, eyes half-closed, the lines of pain and shame etched deeper than Elizabeth had ever seen. All three of them stared at Mrs Gardiner, dumbfounded by the news.
“Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth repeated. “How could he know? From whom?”
“I had no time for enquiries, but I shall invite him in so he can explain it to us,” Mrs Gardiner said, obviously disquieted.
Elizabeth’s heart pounded as she stood in front of the door, uncertain what to do with her hands. Mr Darcy had come during the most difficult moment her family had ever faced? Why? How did he know?
He entered hesitantly, hat in hand, the very picture of restrained urgency. His eyes found Elizabeth first — only for an instant — before he bowed to the room at large.
“Mr Bennet. Mrs Gardiner. Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth.” Each name was spoken with grave courtesy, yet there was a hint of something fiercer beneath. “Dear Lord, are you injured, sir?” he asked abruptly as his gaze fell on Mr Bennet.
“It was just a small accident. I should be well. It is not my main concern. My sister says you know something about that scoundrel?”
“Yes. I have learnt — from a man in Meryton whom I recently hired — that Wickham left his regiment in the middle of the night, most likely to escape his creditors. He was seen in town early this morning in company with a young lady, whose identity was later discovered to be that of Miss Lydia Bennet. I could not understand what had happened, and that is why I dared to intrude.”
“You are not intruding, sir. In fact, your presence is a blessing,” Mr Bennet said. “It is indeed my poor, silly Lydia who foolishly eloped with him. So you know where he is? I shall go this instant. I do not have a moment to lose,” the gentleman said, struggling to rise from the bed.
“Brother, you are bleeding!” Mrs Gardiner cried, while Jane let out a sound, half sob, half gasp. “Stay still. Edward will arrive in a few moments, and he will take care of the matter,” the lady continued.
“Mr Bennet,” Mr Darcy said in a grave voice, “I am not certain of his present whereabouts. I know this morning he was seen in conversation with a Mrs Younge, who rents rooms.” At this, he glanced at Elizabeth, whose knees barely supported her.
The infamous Mrs Younge, who had conspired with Mr Wickham to deceive Miss Darcy, was still his ally? Her heart pounded. Miss Darcy possessed both wit and wisdom, and she had informed her brother in time. Lydia possessed neither, just as she had no money, no connections, nothing useful to him. Why had he taken her? Why would he still be keeping her with him? She was lost and the entire family with her.
“But we must search for them, immediately,” Mr Bennet insisted. He attempted to sit up and winced.
