Elizabeth suspected Mrs Hill’s entreaty was due to curiosity since none of the servants knew what the confusion at Longbourn was about, but she thanked her just the same. The girls ran through the vestibule and into the library, where their father sat staring out the window. Jane, who was not so much in the habit of running as Elizabeth, panted for breath and held onto the door frame while Elizabeth cried out, “Papa, what have you heard from Mr Darcy?”
“I have not read your correspondence, Lizzy, for what good is to be expected from it?” he said, taking the letter from his pocket. “But perhaps you would like to read it?”
Elizabeth caught it from his hand, asking whether he would like her to read it aloud, but was summarily denied. She and her sister went to the empty breakfast room. As she broke the seal, she remembered the last time she had read a letter written in the same neat hand, its sharp pen strokes demonstrating the thought the writer put into every word.
Charles Street
Wednesday, July 8
My dearest Elizabeth,
At last I am able to send you tidings of your sister that, I hope, will give you and your family satisfaction. Soon after Bingley and I arrived in town, I learned in what part of London Mr Wickham and Lydia were staying. The particulars of this discovery I shall reserve till we meet. They are not married, nor can I find there was any intention on his part of being so. Nevertheless, she has been returned to the Gardiners’ home. I am confident we have accomplished this without the truth of her whereabouts from Friday last to Monday afternoon being known.
Your sister keeps her hope that he will return. Bingley, with ingenuity and pleasing manners, convinced her to await him at her uncle’s home. When the Gardiners depart for Longbourn to begin their northern tour at the end of next week, they will bring Lydia with them. The story will be that Lydia left Brighton to visit with her relations in London before they embarked on their trip.
At Bingley’s request, he and I shall remain in town until Friday so that he can accompany Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley to Netherfield as Mr Hurst has returned to Bath. It is my earnest hope that when I return, we might place this distressing situation behind us, since Lydia and Mr Wickham’s brief living together is not common knowledge. I look forward with delight to our approaching marriage, and I know your loving heart will forgive my impatience for us to be gone from Hertfordshire.
I remain, with compliments to your family,
Yours affectionately,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
“Is it possible?” Elizabeth asked her sister. “Can it be possible this dreadful situation is over?”
“It appears the gentlemen have succeeded in every way. Lydia is to return home, and no one, save for the Forsters and ourselves, knows of Wickham’s involvement in her leaving Brighton.”
“Darcy does not write of encountering Wickham. Do you not wonder where he has gone and what he might do?”
“You fear he might expose Lydia?” Jane shook her head. “I comfort myself with thinking he is ashamed of what he has done and would be too mortified to admit his involvement in the whole of it.”
It occurred to them that their parents were ignorant of what had happened. They went back to their father to make the letter’s contents known. He was reading, Elizabeth noticed, her marriage settlement and, without raising his head, he allowed Jane to tell him that Lydia was discovered and would soon be returned. He nodded once.
To Elizabeth’s complete disappointment, he did not look interested, disturbed, melancholy, or anxious.
“How will you manage Lydia after she comes home?” she asked him. Every previous attempt of hers and Jane’s to check their youngest sister had failed, and Lydia was as likely to laugh and talk with the same wild volatility as she did before she went to Brighton.
“Lydia seldom listens to anyone more than half a minute; in fact, she rarely attends me at all. I am not inclined to waste my time on irremediable daughters. Besides, you told me all I need do is thank your Mr Darcy should he bring her home. I would settle for that if I were you.”
“I think Lydia should be allowed no liberty, no society, until we can be certain that she is reformed.”
“I do not need to hear your opinion,” he said sharply. “She is found, and no one is the wiser for what she has done. My further involvement is not necessary.” There was a note of finality in her father’s voice, but Elizabeth ignored it.
“You cannot assume that she will no longer be self-willed or careless! Lydia may—”
Jane laid a firm hand on her arm. “Perhaps she will not be as boisterous or unguarded after this distressing event, Lizzy. We should tell the others Darcy’s news.”
Elizabeth went with her, wounded to the core that her father would never exert himself for the sake of his daughters and was instead content to either laugh at them or ignore them.
Mary and Kitty were both with Mrs Bennet. After a slight preparation for good news, the letter was read aloud. Mrs Bennet was pleased to hear of her daughter’s impending return, but dissatisfied that Wickham could not be discovered.
“But why does he not search for Wickham?” Her mother was not ready to give up the right to be fidgety and nervous. “Darcy might yet fight Wickham and make him marry her. It would be delightful to have three daughters married before the summer is out.”
“Mamma!” Elizabeth cried. “We are fortunate Lydia’s reputation is undamaged. Now listen, all of you, we cannot mention this before anyone. Darcy and Bingley have suffered enough mortification in order to bring her home, and I will not have their efforts be in vain by gossiping.” Mary and Kitty mildly nodded; Mary never spoke to anyone unless she was quoting from her extracts, and Kitty had attention for only fashion and officers in red coats.
Elizabeth took refuge in her own room, where she might think with freedom. Her patience for social engagements, her father’s apathy, her neighbours’ gossip, her sisters’ insipidity, her mother’s nervousness, and Lydia’s spectacle had reached its end. Fitzwilliam had been right about her in Kent: Elizabeth never had a strong local attachment to Longbourn. She may not have seen much of the world, but she had always known that she lived in a small part of it.
Her allegiances felt closer to the Darcys than the Bennets, and her actions with Fitzwilliam in the cottage only added to that feeling. She smiled as she remembered the details of that morning—the warmth of his breath on her neck, her rush of excitement when he entreated her to undress, the surprising comfort of his weight on top of her. Her marriage to Fitzwilliam, in her mind and in her heart, had already begun.
