She winced at the memory. Never could she have imagined that a gentleman she had previously held in high regard could come out with something so cruel and heartless. But she knew her father was right: he needed to know. That was true to a certain point, of course: she would not tell him the truth of Lydia’s condition until she had no choice, because it would likely kill him.
“I suggested that we could pay for the wedding and transport to Scotland. He as good as laughed in my face. He said something along the lines of wishing to marry for money. I do not think that we shall be able to convince him by luring him with the promise of wealth. All of us in this room know that our situations are dwarfed by many affluent families here. When Wickham has that in his starry sights, then…”
“There is no course left for us,” her father said.
“Except for one.”
“Edward!” Mrs. Gardiner cried. “Surely you don’t mean…”
Her husband simply shrugged. “I am not a violent man, but there are times when it is justified. Like now, when a man has acted most callously towards a young lady.”
Lizzy shook her head and turned away. She did not know what to think. There was one thing she was sure of: she was glad she had not told them the details of Lydia’s situation. That would only have spurred them further.
“Wickham is a scoundrel,” she said carefully. “You must think this through. Isn’t there a possibility that any forceful attempt to make him marry might put you at a disadvantage? For men like that, fighting is a sport.”
Neither her father nor her uncle appeared to budge on the matter.
“Please,” she went on. “I do not wish to see either of you hurt.”
But despite her objections, they seemed resolute. Finally, Mrs. Gardiner shifted in her seat. “I think the best thing we can do now is for you, Thomas, and you, Lizzy, to return to Longbourn. Lizzy is right—no good can come from an altercation with that awful man. He has no morals! He would sooner kill you than listen to you! There is no way on earth that the two of you, alone, can spirit him to Scotland and force him to take Lydia’s hand.”
Elizabeth watched her, nodding. With a heavy heart, she agreed to return to Longbourn at first light the next morning. She had no wish to end her search, but it was the only way to stop her father from getting into trouble—or worse.
“Please, Papa.” Foremost in her mind was the entail on his estate. She could only imagine how intolerably moralistic Mr. Collins would be if anything happened to Mr. Bennet and he had cause to come to Hertfordshire to throw them off the Longbourn estate. “Please. My aunt is right.”
“She is,” he said, nodding. “I know it. I just don’t know how I shall break the news to your mother.”
Chapter 25
Darcy set off in his carriage at once, but the driver did not slow in the slightest as they approached the law chambers of Teed, Maxwell and Chance, the esteemed London firm Darcy used for most of his affairs. Nor did they halt their rapid pace when they came close to Bosworth and Heywood, another firm he trusted with less important matters.
No, Darcy’s carriage carried on through the city until it entered far less salubrious streets. Only when it had passed onto a rather dirty side street, did the driver slow the horses.
Darcy jumped out before they had even fully stopped.
“Wait here,” he muttered, before entering one of the establishments.
His rapid pace was nothing to do with the nature of the businesses around him. At that moment, he did not care about being seen visiting such a place. He marched through the hallway and knocked at a door under the stairs.
It opened a fraction, not enough for him to see who was on the other side.
“I am here to see Mrs. Younge.”
A man grunted. “She doesn’t accept house calls without an appointment.”
“Well then make an appointment for me. I’m not leaving here until I speak to her and I’m sure my magistrate friends would love to hear all about her little enterprise. It is known officially as a florist business, is it not? I find it curious that there is not a bloom to be seen around here.”
The door closed again. Darcy could hear frantic chatter from behind it, though this did not cause his spirits to rise one bit. There was no sense of victory in this, only a sense that time was rapidly running out. Finally, the door flew open.
“We meet again.”
He flinched quite involuntarily. How could he not, when this woman had so very nearly been the cause of his beloved sister’s ruin. He could not even bring himself to greet her. “I must speak to you at once.”
She smiled expansively, her cheeks rouged. She looked nothing like the woman he remembered; at least not when she had been Georgiana’s companion. She was certainly Wickham’s equivalent when it came to deception.
“You are impatient as always,” she said with a smile, before bursting into laughter.
Darcy did not have time for this. He pushed past her and into the unseemly little reception room, whose garish decorations hinted at the rooms beyond. He did not care if she had men for security. In his present mood, he would go up against five men without hesitation. He could not remember the last time he had felt so angry.
“Wickham. Where is he?”
She smiled again and held her arms up. “Why, how on earth should I know? I am but a simple flori—”
“Where. Is. Wickham? I can make life very uncomfortable for you. Please, just give me another excuse to do so.”
She smiled, but he saw the consternation beneath it. “Oh, Mr. Darcy. Why would you say such a thing? Come in. Have a drink. It seems like you need help relaxing.”
“The only thing I need,” he growled. “Is to know where Wickham is.”
“Oh come now,” she said, taking his arm.
He brushed her hand away with no small amount of force. “Enough. I do not have time for your games. Tell me what I need to know or I shall ensure that you have fond memories of this hovel as you spend the rest of your days in destitution. Really, that’s what I should have done the last time.”
She looked far less playful now. “What has George done now?”
“I’m sure you’re well aware.”
She shrugged and lit a cigar. “Perhaps.”
“You’ve seen him.”
“Yes. We are friends.”
“You’re being evasive. Tell me what you know.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. He came to me a few weeks ago with his young lady in tow. I saw him again a couple of days ago. He was very eager to move.”
“Is that so?” Darcy mused, more to himself than to her.
She shrugged. “Apparently the young lady’s family located him.” Her expression turned jovial once again. “He told me the funniest thing. He said an older sister marched into one of the gambling dens and confronted him. Right there in front of everyone. Isn’t that the most curious thing? The poor thing must not have known what the place was.”
Darcy’s heart filled with pity. He had hoped that Miss Bingley’s story was simply an exaggerated account. Now it was clear that was not the case. He was in no doubt that Miss Elizabeth knew exactly what she was doing when she condescended to enter that gambling establishment. He sighed. She had rejected his proposal and made it clear how she felt, but he could not help but love her. In the past, he might have considered such an action a terrible indication of a lady’s ill-breeding, but he could not think that way of her.
“That was very brave.”
Mrs. Younge laughed breezily. “Is that what you’d call it? Anyway, I have cause to be angry with him too it seems. It turns out Wickham left quite a debt behind him. Now, he’s never tried to defraud me, but it’s embarrassing. These people know we’re friends so naturally they might tar me with the same brush. It’s not—”
“And you are such a bastion of moral fortitude.”
She wrinkled her nose. “There’s not need to insult me. I’m telling you what you want to know.”
No
t quickly enough,” he said, suddenly wanting to get out of that awful place as quickly as he possibly could. “Where can I find him now?”
She sighed and folded her arms across her chest. “At a place called Frasers on Gould Street.”
“Address?”
“You’ll see it. There’s a sign outside. It’s opposite a large tavern with boarded up windows. There are usually several… patrons lingering around outside.”
“Of course there are,” Darcy muttered, hurrying from the room.
Chapter 26
Lizzy ran straight down the stairs when she awoke, eager to get outside and avoid having to talk about the shame that hung over all of them now. It was two days since she and her father had returned to Longbourn, though it felt as if two years had passed.
Mrs. Bennet was inconsolable. They were all inconsolable, but Lizzy had never seen her mother in such a state. They all had grave concerns that this episode might prove fatal. Lizzy and her aunt had discussed the matter at length and decided it was best if they did not share what they had learnt of Lydia’s condition with anyone except Jane. Even then, Lizzy regretted telling her elder sister—she had seen the pain in her eyes when she did—but she hadn’t been able to keep that awful secret to herself. It had been a relief to share the burden; to speculate on what would happen in a few short months when Lydia’s condition became impossible to hide any longer.
Now, though, it felt good to be alone; to walk amongst the blooms and pretend for just a moment that everything was normal. She closed her eyes and felt the slight breeze on her face. It was so quiet and peaceful that she was almost successful in transporting herself back to the previous autumn, at least in her mind. She began to relax as she imagined herself being more attentive and less hostile to Mr. Darcy whenever she encountered him; of locking Lydia in the cupboard under the stairs; of calling Mr. Wickham out as a fraud in front of the largest crowd she could gather.
The sound of racing hooves brought her crashing straight back to reality. Lizzy opened her eyes and hurried to the hedge. There, she bent to peer through the part that had thinned and turned brown. She gasped when she saw the rider. There was nowhere he could be going apart from Longbourn. Her heart began to pound. She turned and raced back to the house, bursting through the door and hurrying up the stairs two at a time in order to rouse Jane.
Four Bennet sisters clustered around the closed door to their father’s library, each wishing he would read faster and share the contents of the letter. Their mother was upstairs, still fast asleep thanks to another of the apothecary’s draughts.
“What do you think it means?” Kitty asked, fidgeting with her necklace.
Lizzy shook her head, barely willing to take her eyes off the door. “I don’t know.” It was true. She’d been reflecting feverishly upon it, trying to figure out if her father’s sustained solitude meant good news or bad news. They had ascertained from the rider that he had come from London, so the girls were certain that it involved their wayward younger sister.
“If it was good news, he would have told us by now,” Mary said morosely, folding her arms and leaning her head against the wall behind her. “I fear it is not. Didn’t you see the size of the letter? It was not large. He is still in that room because he cannot face us.”
“Now, now, Mary,” Jane said mildly. “There is nothing to be gained from jumping to negative conclusions.”
Mary rolled her eyes. She had become all but impossible since Lizzy’s return. The only mercy was they saw even less of her now, so intent was she to remain in her room, reading pious texts and making amends for the sins of their sister. At times Lizzy had considered joining her: prayer was about the only recourse they had left.
“And there is nothing to be gained from taking an unrealistic positive view. What, do you think she has been redeemed? Celebrated by all of London for her immoral actions?”
Lizzy rolled her eyes. “She’s not a criminal. Stupid, yes.”
“A sinner for sure.”
Lizzy looked at Jane. If they did not intervene, she feared they would soon have a mini Mr. Collins on their hands. It was enough to make her consider fleeing to London alone just for some peace. She smiled at the thought before wincing as she recalled the reality of Lydia’s accommodations. No, Longbourn was the best place for her. At least there they could all avoid the disapproving gazes of those who sought to judge them. It would be impossible to do that in London.
“Perhaps, Jane, we might go to town in the coming weeks. Who knows when we shall get the chance again.”
Jane caught her eye and nodded before muttering, “who knows, Lizzy. Perhaps it is good news.”
Lizzy heard the defeat in her tone and it made her feel even more hopeless than ever. All truly was lost when even Jane lost the ability to hope for the best.
The door flew open at that moment and their father glared at them. “Why do you all look so dour?” he cried. “Anyone would think that something awful had happened.”
Lizzy rolled her eyes. “In case you hadn’t noticed…”
He smiled expansively. “Lizzy, Jane. I would like to speak to you both.”
They ignored the howls of protest from Kitty and Mary and scurried inside.
“Well?” Lizzy said, rounding on him as he closed the door.
He sat back down at his desk and smiled at them. Lizzy turned to her sister and frowned. She could not think of any likely scenario that would cause this reaction in their father. The best they could hope for now was for a greater scandal to dwarf Lydia’s.
Fear gripped her. Had he and Mr. Gardiner conspired to have Wickham murdered? He might have done so and thought it was a solution, not knowing that Lydia was already with child. Oh no, Lizzy thought, making fists with her hands and thinking she should have told him the whole truth regardless of her fear that he would go in search of Wickham.
“What is it, Lizzy? Can’t you tell from my reaction? We’ve received good news.”
She sighed. “I don’t understand. You seem much too happy. I can’t think of a possible end to this that would cause us to relax, much less to smile.”
He grinned even more broadly. “Your uncle has prevailed! He has located Wickham and the man has agreed to marriage.”
“But…” Lizzy shook her head. “How can it be so? It was clear to me that he intended only to marry her if he received enough money. How can our uncle possibly have…” she turned to Jane, who looked radiantly happy.
“It is so,” Mr. Bennet said, thrusting the letter at them. “Look here.”
Lizzy took the letter and held it between her and Jane so that they both could read it. She skimmed through, expecting to see something that her father had missed; something that confirmed the news was too good to be true. But there was no such snag.
“Is this correct?” she asked, pointing to the part of the letter where their uncle discussed the amounts involved.
“I think so,” her father said. “I shall ask your uncle to clarify when I write back to him. It seems so. It is strange, though. I would have expected him to agree only to a far higher sum.”
Lizzy nodded. That was certainly her expectation after her conversation with Wickham. Had he taken her words to heart? It surprised her—she had come to think of him as a most insensible, intolerable man.
“And you will write back to him?”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “Of course. Of course.”
“Ah,” Lizzy said, wringing her hands at his lack of urgency. “We should have asked the rider to wait. Why did we not think of it?”
Her father shrugged. “I suppose we all expected more bad news, did we not?”
They had. Lizzy paced silently to the window and stared out. Of course the rider was nowhere to be seen: he would have been miles away by that point.
“It is fine, Lizzy. Another day won’t make a difference.”
“On the contrary, father. Don’t you think we ought to get the matter settled as soon as possible?”
Chapter 27
It was all finalised within weeks, much to Lizzy’s surprise and delight. The terms had made her suspicious and she hadn’t allowed herself to become too excited that her sister might be saved from the horrible life that Lizzy had glimpsed in London. In her heart, she believed it was some scheme of Wickham’s to steal their money and then escape without marrying Lydia.
One morning as she read in the drawing-room, she was disturbed by the sound of great shrieks from the hallway. Alarmed, she dropped her book and hurried to see what had happened. Her greatest fear was that her suspicions had been realised and that Wickham had disappeared again.
Expecting to find her mother unconscious on the floor, Lizzy was astonished to come upon quite a different scene. Mrs. Bennet looked happier than she had been for weeks.
“She is married!” Mrs. Bennet cried. “Oh, my little Lydia. She is Mrs. Wickham now!”
Lizzy took the letter from her. Her aunt did not say much more than to confirm that the ceremony had taken place. There was no mention of the muslins that the Bennets had paid for or how the church had looked or who had turned up to wish the couple well. This was all perfectly fine as far as Lizzy was concerned: she had no interest in knowing the details. She felt only relief that it had happened.
“Oh, I wish I had been there,” Mrs. Bennet sighed. “She would have been a beautiful bride. Oh, wait until I tell Lady Lucas. She shall be green with envy.”
“Wait, Mama. Are you sure you wish to do that? After all, her Charlotte is married. And…”
“Of course!” Mrs. Bennet cried. “Didn’t she lord it over me as soon as Charlotte was engaged. Now it’s my turn!”
Lizzy rolled her eyes. How was it possible that their mother had already forgotten the consternation of the past several weeks? But it appeared that she had. She hurried up the stairs, calling for her finest bonnet.
Mr Darcy to the Rescue: A Pride and Prejudice Regency Variation Page 9