“I have addressed this matter all wrong. I have allowed the idea of my wife being dead to cloud my judgment. Elizabeth cannot truly believe that I want to divorce her. Even if Judge Darcy has tried to convince her otherwise, she cannot doubt my love. No. This might be an instance of smoke without fire…”
“It is too early in the morning for riddles, Darcy.”
“It is past noon.”
“Which is still early when one is on leave,” Richard grumbled.
Taking no notice of his cousin, Darcy listed mentally what had happened over the last few days: Judge Darcy, Lady Castlereagh’s ball, and Lord Matlock…
“Zounds!”
“What?” Richard blinked out of his light slumber.
“Lydia!” Darcy exclaimed.
“The one who is about to marry Wickham?”
“Yes. Do you mind a brief stop at Gracechurch Street before we return home?”
“No, by all means. I am at your disposal and amply fed.” The colonel rubbed his stomach for good measure.
“Thank you,” Darcy added sincerely. If not for his cousin’s timely arrival, he would have gone stark raving mad by now.
The crux of the matter was Lydia. He did not believe for an instant that Elizabeth had run away fromhim; neither could she genuinely believe he wished to divorce her. He loved her with every fibre of his being and she knew it. Elizabeth Bennet Darcy, who had walked three miles of muddied path to tend her sister through a slight cold, would never allow Lydia to marry a man she despised. Oh no, she would fight for her loved ones, even against him, whether they deserved her compassion or not. Of course, discovering that Georgiana’s folly had become known would have made her distrust him. However painful that realisation was, she was right; he had allowed Lydia to assume the blame that was rightfully Georgiana’s to bear.
Darcy groaned and rested his head in his hands. He had failed his wife, and himself, taking the cowardly route. Elizabeth would never have sacrificed Georgiana to protect Lydia, but how could she save her youngest sister without making the girl look even more culpable? She could not have predicted the quidnuncs would turn their flinty eyes on her. The morning papers had speculated that Mrs Darcy had run away with the lieutenant. How the press had been informed so soon about his wife’s absence was baffling. Yet they had not mentioned his mad dash through Hyde Park…
It was to be hoped that Wickham would continue to strut about town with Mrs Younge on his arm. That might deflect the gossip away from Darcy’s relations.
They arrived at Gracechurch Street late in the evening, well after the proper calling hours. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were fortunate to be admitted to Mrs Gardiner’s parlour; Mr Gardiner was not at home. By her rigid bearing and the absence of congeniality, he immediately became suspicious that the lady knew why he had come. He introduced his cousin before he made his request with as indifferent an air as possible.
“I have come to speak to Miss Lydia. I have a question concerning the wedding. Would she mind the intrusion upon her time?”
“Please be seated,” Mrs Gardiner offered without answering his question.
A maid entered with a tea tray.
“Petra, I have guests and need two more cups.”
The maid curtsied and left them for but a moment. Darcy grew restless as she prepared their tea and wondered whether she had heard his question or was she deliberately delaying her response? The usually so amiable Mrs Gardiner was as unfailingly polite as ever, but her reserve was pronounced. Darcy was left with the impression that she did not like him much.Strange indeed!
When Mrs Gardiner had finished pouring the tea, she sat and looked him, unflinchingly and directly, in the eyes.
“There will be no wedding, Mr Darcy. Two nights ago, Lydia climbed out of her window and disappeared. We have been searching for her ever since.”
“Why was I not informed?” Darcy barked.
“We believed she could not have gone far and hoped to retrieve her before it became known. In addition, there is the urgency of not drawing more attention to the scandal than the damage that has already been done.”
“I do not engage in idle gossip,” Darcy protested.
“Of course not.” Mrs Gardiner’s eyes widened as she hurried to explain. “It is only that Elizabeth believed that there was an informant in your household. Some of the details that have been leaked to the newspapers were personal matters, ones that only a close connection would have known.”
Darcy was struck by that notion. The thought had not entered his mind. Could he shock her into compliance and force an honest answer from her lips?
“Where are Lydia and Mrs Darcy now?”
“I have no idea. I mean, we have not been able to find Lydia. My husband is out searching for her. As to your concern about Mrs Darcy, you must know more than I.”
