Lydia shook her head and paled. It shocked Darcy when she jumped from her chair and ran from the room. Mrs Gardiner, her face pinched with worry, rose and followed her while Mrs Bennet shrilly asked what the matter was.
“Allow me to tend to Lydia. You do not want to leave your guests.” Mrs Gardiner was firm as she attempted to move past her.
“But whatever is the matter with the girl?” she asked.
“She is merely indisposed, I am sure.” Mrs Gardiner gave a look toward the Netherfield ladies, whose attention was captured by these strange goings-on. “Why do you not invite the young people to walk out? It is a lovely day.” She then left the room. Mrs Bennet would not be dissuaded from knowing all and followed close on her heels. The door was wide open, and the assembled party could hear Lydia grumbling in discomfort just outside.
“Lydia!” Her mother’s voice carried. “Why did you run from the room? It is unladylike.”
Darcy glanced at Elizabeth, who met his eye and, he was certain, agreed with him on the irony. Jane leant toward Miss Bingley and, in a louder voice than before, attempted to draw her into conversation. The voices in the hall, however, carried into the room.
“She is tolerably well.” Mrs Gardiner’s muted tone did not disguise her waning patience. “You ought to see to your guests. We can discuss this later.”
“You will not discourage me from tending to my own child. Lydia, are you unwell? I must send for Mr Jones. Hill! Where are my smelling salts?”
“That is not necessary! She does not need an apothecary.”
“Do you know what is the matter with her? Should I send for a physician from town? Lydia? What ails you? Hill? Hill! I need you!”
“Now is not the time. Please, think of your company.”
“If something is the matter, her mother ought to know it at once. Lydia! Are you ill, my dear? I insist you answer me!”
“Lord! Stop shouting!” Lydia’s sullen voice entered the verbal melee. “My aunt Gardiner told me what ails me. I am not ill—I am with child!”
ChapterNineteen
The whole house was thrown into confusion. The situation in the Longbourn family could not long be a secret. Even without considering the servants’ gossiping, it was too much to be hoped for that Lydia’s condition be kept quiet as Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst had heard it all. Upon hearing Lydia’s announcement, the Netherfield ladies demanded their brother escort them from such a shameful scene.
After Bingley departed with his sisters with little more than a rueful parting smile to his betrothed, Jane left to tend to her mother, whose wails of malcontent were louder than Lydia’s complaints of nausea. Mr Bennet, showing more interest than ever before in what was going forward in his family, said he would be for London to call out Wickham. Mr Gardiner directed him to the library to pour him a brandy while they considered more realistic options.
“This is an unfortunate affair and will probably be much talked of,” Mary said from her corner of the room. “The loss of female virtue is irretrievable. One false step involves endless ruin.” When she received no response, save for Elizabeth’s incredulous stare, she scurried away. Kitty was crying from the chaotic stress that surrounded her and left for her own apartment. In a matter of minutes, Elizabeth and Darcy were alone.
“I am sick of this folly, Fitzwilliam. This is in every way horrible!”
Darcy embraced her and shook his head in silent acquiescence. Like her, he was too shocked that their efforts had been in vain. His last and best source of information on Wickham’s whereabouts had already been exploited. Darcy doubted Wickham would be foolish enough to return to Edward Street. He was certain, however, that if he found Wickham, it would cost a small fortune to induce him to marry Lydia.
“Please, just hold me.”
Darcy looked at her in confusion, for he thought that was what he was doing. She must have felt his questioning gaze because she continued, “You are forming a plan to restore Lydia’s honour. I can feel you turning ideas over in your mind.”
He watched her face for signs of her misery, but before he could ask what she needed, she brushed her lips against his in a longing kiss that made Darcy hold her closer. She seemed to seek whatever consolation he could give in a situation of despair and unease.
He pulled his lips away and rested his forehead against hers. “I would like to continue, but after Lydia’s shocking revelation, your family would be distressed to find you in a situation where anyone might question your virtue. But,” he whispered, “as I told you that spring day, you always tempt me.”
“And shall I tempt you even in the winter of our days?”
“In every season, Elizabeth. Surely you know that I admire your roots even more than your blossoms.”
She kissed him once quickly. “I am a selfish creature, it seems. I ought to think of Lydia—of our reputations—but I was thinking of bringing myself comfort.”
“I am more than happy to oblige.” Darcy tucked a stray curl of hair away from her cheek and gave her one more lingering kiss.
“Neither rational happiness nor worldly prosperity can be justly expected for Lydia now.” She sighed and still held him close as she rested her head against his chest.
“I shall not torment you with vain wishes. I am at a loss where to begin the search for Wickham.”
“How could such a man be worked on even if you discovered him?”
