For the life of him, Darcy could not imagine that Bingley had been foolish enough to mention Lydia. However, his friend looked just as amazed as he felt. Miss Bingley went on unabated. “I, of course, mean Miss Eliza, in particular. With her lack of fashion and dreadful country manners, it is unlikely she will marry.” After a pause, she added, “No matter how handsome some gentlemen might find her.”
While Mrs Hurst nodded in agreement, her brother’s jaw dropped, and Darcy stared at Miss Bingley in undisguised revulsion. He could not fathom that her intentions toward him were by no means over. Before he could scold Miss Bingley, Darcy’s attention was caught by the look of contemplation on Bingley’s face.
Darcy tried to rein in his annoyance. “Bingley,” he said, “did you not write to your sisters that I—”
“Good gracious,” Bingley stammered, “I do not think I did! My ideas flow so rapidly when I write that I often do not adequately express them.” Bingley looked at Darcy, then looked at his younger sister, and then let out a hearty laugh that even drew the attention of Mr Hurst. Darcy stared at Bingley in angry silence as Miss Bingley asked, in a higher and higher-pitched voice, what exactly it was that Bingley had neglected to mention. Soon enough, even Darcy could not deny the humour of the situation and smiled.
“Miss Bingley, nothing you say against the Bennet family could elevate your hopes of influencing my felicity. Bingley, I shall meet you at the carriage after you inform your sisters.”
As the footman opened the front door for him, Darcy was sure that he heard a shriek and the sound of a cup and saucer crashing to the ground.
* * *
“Lydia is notthe kind of girl to do such a thing as this! And now here’s Darcy and Bingley gone away, and I know Darcy would fight Wickham, and then he will be killed, and what is to become of us all? Who will take care of us when your father passes if not Darcy?”
“Do not give way to useless alarm.” Elizabeth tried to dissuade her mother against such outrageous ideas. Mrs Bennet kept to her room, where she blamed everybody but the two people whose ill-judging indulgence the errors of her daughter must principally owe. “No one knows Lydia has eloped. Darcy and Bingley may recover her, and she need not marry Mr Wickham.”
“Oh, she is likely ruined, just as your father says! You must write to Darcy and tell him to find Wickham and make them marry. But keep him from duelling. Your father does nothing, but we cannot allow Darcy to fight Wickham and be killed!”
Elizabeth’s mother continued in this vein until Jane returned with her mother’s tea, and Elizabeth was free to seek out her father. Mr Bennet had made no mention of the business that had called his future sons away. Although he might provoke her by insulting Fitzwilliam, she hoped to convince her father to be appreciative and gracious to him when he returned with Lydia. Even if he felt Lydia’s case a hopeless one, Fitzwilliam did not, and her father ought to show him gratitude for helping his family avert a scandal.
“Lizzy, it will do you no good to speak to me about your wedding clothes,” he said after she entered his library. “Your mother has spoken to me on the subject, and I shall not be dissuaded. You will receive no such mark of affection from me.”
Elizabeth attempted to mind her temper. He knew very well she was not worried down by wedding clothes.“I came here to speak of other subjects.”
“Have you come to revel in your prudence and foresight? Your advice to me in May, considering the event, shows some greatness of mind. Perhaps you do have something of cleverness, your attachment to Mr Darcy notwithstanding.”
She felt frustration build in her chest. “Papa, why do you continue to be severe upon me?”
“You do not know the character of this man who has suddenly captured your fancy. His wealth and connexions have blinded you.”
“Do you know enough of him to do justice to his worth? Have you taken any pains to know Darcy at all?”
Her father pressed his lips together before deciding on a different attack. “I am surprised that this affair with Lydia does not have him begging you to release him from his promise.”
“It would insult him to hear you speak disdainfully of his honour and his attachment to me. He is gone to London inyour placeto protect Lydia. I have had the pleasure of Darcy’s acquaintance for months, and although I may not have admired him in the beginning, I have no reservations about his character.” After her last conversation with Fitzwilliam, she would never again doubt his commitment to her.
“You will be happy, then,” he retorted drily. “How fortunate for you.”
Unwavering loyalty to her father no longer came as easily as it once did. “I am sorry for the unhappiness you have endured in your marriage, but I have confidence in my choice of husband. You ought not to be jealous of the happiness you know I shall share with Darcy. I will marry him, whether or not you read those settlement papers he left. Should you not wish to suffer an estrangement from me, you will sign them and thank Darcy for his efforts when he returns with Lydia.”
Elizabeth turned on her heel and stormed from the library.
* * *
Their hackney passed Cavendish Square,and Darcy and Bingley alighted at a large house in Edward Street. Given the curious glances they received from passersby, Darcy was relieved he had hired a carriage instead of arriving in his own with the Darcy livery for all to see. Murmured voices carried down the hall after he gave his card, although he could only discern their tone; the maid’s voice was steady, but Mrs Younge’s voice was at first alarmed, then angry.
The maid returned to say that Mrs Younge was not at home. Darcy exhaled his frustration and, ignoring Bingley’s entreaties to be patient, pushed past her, strode down the hall, and threw open the parlour door. The woman inside leapt to her feet upon seeing him and gave a little cry—whether from fear or anger, Darcy could not tell. She recovered, however, and the worry in her features was replaced with a veneer of refinement that Darcy knew by now not to trust.
“Mr Darcy, you must be eager to speak with me since I did not invite you in. But as you and your friend are here now, please join me.” Mrs Younge spoke evenly, but her eyes flitted toward the open door. She dismissed the maid, who shut the door as she left.
“I am looking for Mr Wickham.”
“I cannot help you. I have not seen Wickham since last summer. Why ever would you search for him here?” She spoke with grace and ease, and Darcy knew he would have to unnerve her in order to convince her to tell all she knew.
“Mr Wickham is the sort of man to keep women to fall back on when his gambling funds run out. I know that you have made yourself available to him in the past, and I am confident he has…visited you recently.”
“Darcy!” Bingley exclaimed in shock. Mrs Younge’s face reddened, but Darcy knew it was from anger and not from shame. He was rude, yes, but this woman was his only means of finding Wickham in a timely manner, and he would exploit every advantage.
