It was good news in the midst of their calamity. Those two gentlemen despising Wickham was, after all, an advantage to Lydia...and ultimately to themselves.
“My uncle remained with him, and they are to wait upon Mr Darcy together,” she said.
Only Mrs Gardiner perceived the hesitation in Elizabeth’s voice when she spoke Mr Darcy’s name, and her compassionate glance betrayed that she understood too well what passed in her niece’s heart. It was utterly impossible for Elizabeth to forget the past in such an atmosphere. Her whole resentment rose against that thoughtless girl who, had she possessed a little patience, might have found herself welcomed into a respectable and even brilliant society, like that already enjoyed by her sisters.
“I might go with them,” said Mr Bennet.
Elizabeth shook her head. “You had better rest first, and when my uncle returns, you may consult with him,” she said, her voice gentle yet decisive.
Her father answered only with a grateful look and withdrew to his chamber.
“Do you think we may have news today?” Jane asked anxiously.
“I do not think so,” Elizabeth replied. Though she hoped they might be found, she doubted it would be soon or easily.
Chapter 28
Indeed, there followed days of torment, when each evening came without the least intelligence of the fugitives.
One day, Mr Gardiner arrived in haste, and though they tried in vain to detain him in the drawing-room or make him speak a moment, he said only, “I came to fetch something from my office; Mr Darcy awaits me in the carriage.”
“Mr Gardiner!” cried his wife. “What manners are these? Invite him in, I beg you.”
“I tried,” he said, “but he would not, though I pressed him.”
Elizabeth blushed violently. That man never ceased to astonish her. Plainly, he had declined to enter only that she might not be distressed; so, without a word, and under her aunt’s approving glance, she left the parlour. A moment later, the front door was heard to close.
She hurried into the street, where the gentle wind loosened her heavy hair, which the bonnet could scarcely restrain. She saw him at once, and he descended from thecarriage. They greeted one another gravely, their eyes fixed with painful attention.
“I am most sorry that we meet again under such circumstances,” he said gently, without the least trace of anger or reproach.
“Not so sorry as I am,” Elizabeth answered. “Good Heaven,” she said despairingly. “I am so ashamed!”
“Elizabeth,” he whispered—only for her, for he could call her by no other name—yet people were passing who looked upon them. “I entreat you, do not think so. Remember what I told you...when we last met.”
“I remember, but that was a beautiful thought—” she said.
“No, by no means; it was a solemn promise. I am ready to do anything for you.”
“But not this,” she said, almost in tears, caring nothing that her despair was visible, for with this man she had long passed the moment when concealment was possible. The rules of decorum no longer existed for them when they were alone.
“Anything means anything,” he replied with a sad smile.
“Still...I am utterly ashamed—”
“You need not be. Remember that I, too, have gone through something similar with Georgiana.”
“Miss Darcy had sense; she is a modest girl. Lydia is shameless, and I cried out at you when you said you disliked my family...only to reach this disgrace,” she said bitterly, revealing the anguish of her heart and mind.
“I was wrong, Elizabeth,” he said quietly. “Every family has its sinners, great or small. I should not have judged them all alike, and...above all...I should not have spoken as I did...then.”
They were silent, for their emotions had become unendurable. Happily, Mr Gardiner appeared soon after, and in a short time the carriage drove away. Only when it was out of sight did Elizabeth return indoors and go straight to herchamber, where, thanks to Mrs Gardiner, no one disturbed her throughout the day.
∞∞∞
At length, after many fruitless endeavours and days of distressing uncertainty, it was discovered that Lydia and Mr Wickham had indeed not gone to Scotland, as her letters to Mrs Forster had pretended, but were living together in London in a most improper manner. For a time, all attempts to trace them were vain, and even Mr Gardiner, though indefatigable in his efforts, began to despair.
It was then that Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, by means which they never chose to disclose, at last succeeded. They found the fugitives—disgraced, concealed, and in circumstances that no friend could contemplate without shame—in a lodging so wretched that it was difficult to conceive how any human being could inhabit it. Mr Darcy entrusted her to Mr Gardiner before returning to speak with Wickham, who, during all that time, had been kept under the colonel’s watch, for Richard would readily have drawn his sword had the scoundrel attempted any movement. Yet Wickham was cowardly as well as base—or perhaps he already perceived, in Darcy’s presence, a way out of his difficulties which had not before occurred to him, and began to hope that this time he might profit from Darcy’s evident wish to avert a scandal.
