As he entered the room he looked around but did not see her. He was about to turn and leave when he heard a muffled sob from behind one of the sofas. He frowned and followed the noise.
He spied Elizabeth sitting on the floor and he froze in place.
Several pages of what looked like an extensive letter were carelessly scattered around her. She had her hand over her mouth as her body shook with the violence of her uncontrollable weeping.
“Miss Bennet,” Darcy said alarmed, kneeling beside her. She looked so miserably ill that Darcy forgot himself and reached for her hand in sympathy, “good God, what is the matter?”He uttered in dismay, “Let me call your maid? Can I get you something for your present relief? A glass of wine, perhaps? Truly Miss Bennet you look very ill.”
She looked at him, making an effort to recover her composure, “No, I thank you. Mr Darcy I am well... there is nothing the matter with me. I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from home.”
She again burst into tears, losing the flimsy control she had managed for a few seconds, while Darcy waited patiently.
When she realised she was not going to be able to control herself enough to tell the tale, she thrust several letters into Darcy’s hand. He perused them quickly and blanched.
They were from her sister Jane, dating back some six or seven days earlier. She had written the direction very ill indeed so they had been sent elsewhere:
Dear Lizzy,
I hope your excursion with our uncle and aunt has been as delightful as you expected.
Here at Longbourn the days pass slowly and languidly; the children playing in the garden for most of the day, Kitty complaining about Lydia’s absence, Mary’s insistence on unceasingly practising the pianoforte, our father hiding in his library as is his wont. And finally Mr Bingley who still comes to visit every single day.
No, I still have nothing exciting to report. I sometimes wonder if all he wants is a friend. I still love him but his lack of decision is disconcerting, to say the least.
Mama still keeps to her bed and therefore places unnecessary burdens on our dear Hill, who, as we long suspected, must be an angel.
The letter continued with happy tales of Meryton’s gossip until it took a dramatic turn:
Oh dear Lizzy since writing the above, news of a most alarming nature has reached us at Longbourn! News that has unlocked a train of events that we have long feared:
Last night at midnight an express came from Colonel Forster in Brighton, informing us that Lydia has left all her friends. Has in fact eloped; she has thrown herself into the power of Captain Denny, who was, if you recall, a close associate of Mr Wickham. If he is anything like his friend I fear for Lydia’s welfare and future.
More seriously, once papa read the dreadful news he suffered an apoplexy and has been insensible ever since.
I write to beg Uncle Gardiner’s immediate assistance. With papa indisposed there is nobody here to help us.
I must go, for mama needs me. I will write again as soon as I have more news,
Affectionately yours,
Jane
Immediately, Darcy picked up the next letter:
Dear Lizzy,
As much as I wish to give our run-away lovers the benefit of the doubt, we now fear the worst. Colonel Forster came yesterday to help papa in recovering Lydia. But when he discovered that papa finds himself fighting for his life he left to go to London by himself for a few days. He warned us however that he cannot spend too many days away from his regiment.
He fears that Captain Denny has no intention of marrying Lydia, for he is of the same ilk as Mr Wickham. It transpires that he has left several debts both in Meryton and Brighton. So the Colonel fears that he took Lydia simply because she had enough money to take them to London. He is concerned that once he ceases to have use for her, Captain Denny will abandon her.
Regarding papa; Mr Jones the apothecary has not given us a lot of hope. Papa has a few minutes of lucidity a day, but no more. While often the whole time he is awake all he says is how wrong he was, then he calls your name and reaches out as if to find you next to him.
Mr Darcy stopped reading and reached out to Elizabeth, bringing her up on her feet and around from behind the sofa, “Miss Bennet, I will go and find your uncle myself, and then together we will form a plan.”
“We?”
“Yes we. I will personally help. Is it not what friends do in times of trouble?” He still held her hands in his and now he caressed them.
She looked at their hands, fingers entwined. She found his warmth calmed her. She held on to him like a safe harbour in a storm. “Mr Darcy, I know you do not have to do anything to help us, but I will certainly not reject it. And you have my gratitude.”
