“Darcy! I am thankful you are here.” Bingley cast his eye around the hall and, seeing the servants attempting to look busy, drew Darcy to the empty and unlit breakfast room. In whispered tones, he informed Darcy of the situation he had already feared: Lydia had eloped with Wickham, and Colonel Forster had traced them along the London road but not beyond.
“Lieutenant Denny expressed a belief to Colonel Forster that Mr Wickham never intended to go to Gretna Green or marry Lydia at all. Jane believes they might marry privately in town, and I dare not distress her, but I do not believe he could form such a design on a woman as poor as Lydia.”
“What is widely known?”
“The militia knows Mr Wickham deserted to escape his debts, and that Lydia is returned home. Colonel Forster ordered his wife to convince everyone that Lydia was suddenly called home and was already on her way before Mr Wickham fled.” Bingley lifted his eyes. “Mrs Forster purposefully left them alone whenever Mr Wickham visited Lydia at Colonel Forster’s home! It seems Mr Wickham began calling on Lydia the very day she arrived at Brighton. The servants here know nothing yet, but they are suspicious.” Bingley looked fatigued after a day of dealing with this crisis. “I am glad you are here.”
Darcy’s mind spun with possibilities. Wickham might yet be worked on to marry Lydia for less than thirty thousand pounds, but if she was not known to have eloped, he might yet save her reputation. He need not pay Wickham a shilling if Lydia could be persuaded to return to her friends. It would be best for her happiness if she did not marry that scoundrel. He might discover where Wickham was hiding in London before he purposefully ruined Lydia’s reputation, and if she could be recovered before the truth came out, her virtue and that of her sisters might remain unquestioned.
“Darcy, stop pacing!” Bingley said with a huff. “I know that you are thinking, but stand still.”
“What has been attempted to recover her?”
“Jane wrote to her uncle Gardiner for his advice and assistance, but other than the colonel’s attempt to track their progress, nothing has been done.”
Darcy stared. “What do you mean nothing?”
“Mrs Bennet keeps to her rooms, tended only by her daughters, which—given her propensity for senseless talking—is a blessing.” Darcy knew, and he was glad to see that Bingley agreed, Mrs Bennet had too little prudence to hold her tongue before the servants.
Bingley spoke hurriedly as his agitation grew. “But Mr Bennet believes the worst and has given her up for lost. He is determined not to go to London because he does not believe she could be recovered before it is too late.”
Darcy was shocked and grieved that the man took no action to recover his child. “We must be decided and without the loss of another minute.” Someone must resolve on being off for London to find Lydia. Mr Bennet’s indolence was no secret, and perhaps Wickham counted on that fact to aid his objective. “Return to Netherfield and make arrangements for us to go to town at the earliest possible hour.”
Bingley was relieved to be given a purpose, and Darcy went into the drawing room. He found Jane and Elizabeth seated together on the couch, their eyes red-rimmed. His betrothed looked so miserably ill that he gave no thought to the presence of Jane and crossed the room to pull her into his arms. Elizabeth burst into tears as she placed her head on his shoulder. Over her head, Darcy saw Jane rise and quietly leave the room. At length, Elizabeth’s tears subsided, and she finally spoke.
“I suppose Bingley has told you the dreadful news.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “You know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money—nothing that can tempt him to marry her. She is lost forever.”
“We are not without hope. The unhappy truth might be contained, and we can be assured of Colonel Forster’s secrecy.”
“How Lydia could ever have attached herself to him is incomprehensible.” Elizabeth shook her head and sank back into the sofa. “Although her understanding would not preserve her from falling prey.”
Darcy walked the room in solemn meditation. He knew how it had happened. Thoughtless as she might be, Lydia had been pursued as a means by which Wickham could exact revenge on him. What would Elizabeth say if she knew her sister’s disgrace was due to his mistaken pride?
“Of what are you thinking, Fitzwilliam?” She looked at him sadly, and he stopped pacing.
“Of what might be done to recover her,” he answered, not wishing to hurt her and divulge the contents of Wickham’s horrible letter. “Lydia is by no means friendless or unprotected, no matter your father’s apathy.” Elizabeth winced, but nodded. “Mr Wickham will never marry a woman without some money. He cannot afford it. But it is not too late to persuade her to return to her family before her elopement is known.”
Elizabeth looked hopeful. “Thanks to Bingley’s management of my mother and the servants, we and the Forsters are the only ones who know the entire story.”
“Bingley and I will depart in the morning. Wickham intended to leave Brighton for London on Thursday, and I am confident I can ascertain where they went when they arrived. The sooner I get to London, the more likely I am to find them before Mr Wickham leaves Lydia behind to her ruin.”
“You think you can find them and persuade her to leave him? How is such a—” Elizabeth broke off and tilted her head. “Fitzwilliam,” she said slowly as her words followed the thoughts that had just entered her mind, “how did you know he intended to leave Brighton on Thursday?”
Darcy was caught off guard by his mistake. He did not wish to lie—he doubted that hecouldlie to her—but he also could not hurt her by telling her of Wickham’s plans. If Elizabeth learned, before Lydia was safe, that his silence on the matter had led to her sister’s being seduced and that his own admiration for Elizabeth had turned Wickham to this desperate plan of extortion, she might never forgive him.
He would spend the rest of his life paying for his insufferable pride.
“And what makes you certain Wickham would soon leave her to her ruin?” She spoke faster and with more confidence. “Do you not think he would remain with her until her money ran out? It could last weeks. If Lydia believes herself to be married soon, she would have no reason to wish him gone, and Wickham would keep her close for the sake of her money, if nothing else.”
It had been in Darcy’s power to prevent Wickham being well received in Hertfordshire, but he had chosen not to sacrifice his privacy. He would tell her of Wickham’s letter after he returned with Lydia.
“Elizabeth, we do not have the time to debate this,” he said firmly. “It falls to me to remedy this distressing situation. I refuse to wait and allow myreputation to be ruined.” He saw her flinch at his harsh words, but he had to leave before she drew the truth of the letter from him. “I must recover Lydia from Wickham before the world knows what he has done.”
“Yes, of course, Mr Darcy.” Elizabeth coloured as she avoided his gaze. “I am grateful you do not leave us exposed, given the humiliation, the misery that Lydia has brought on my family.”
She crumpled a handkerchief in her hands, and her breath came in and out in rapid puffs. He had only wished to withhold the contents of Wickham’s letter until Lydia had been restored to her friends.When he spoke of ruined reputations, he included himself in that group, for there was never any doubt in his mind that he would marry Elizabeth—scandal or not. Her eyes were expressionless, her arms wrapped around herself, and she was nearly trembling.
His irritation crumbled under the sight of her so miserable. Did she truly think he would leave her over this? Keeping Wickham’s letter from his future wife would be impossible.
