by Emma Crawley
“They do not believe he will marry her,” I said. “Neither do I. And you could not either. You know what he is. They have gone to London, not Scotland. He will find places to hide there, and when it is time to leave, he will abandon Lydia.” I leaned forward and buried my face in my hands. “I should have told everyone what he was. Why did I not? I could have ensured I protected my family from him.”
Darcy was silent as he took in what I told him.
“Wickham came to me the other night,” he said finally. “He stopped me in Meryton. I could not believe his daring. He said he was in dire straits. He owed money to all the men in his camp, and they were growing impatient with him. He asked me for some money to tide him over.”
“Did he?” I stared at him in astonishment. “I cannot believe him! How could he approach you of all people after what he had done to Georgiana?”
“That is Wickham. He cannot see beyond his own self-interest.”
“So, what did he say when you refused him? I am assuming you did refuse him?”
“Of course, I did. He threatened me. Or at least he threatened Georgiana. He said he would tell everyone she planned to elope with me. He insisted it would destroy her reputation.”
I shuddered with disgust. “He gets worse and worse with everything I hear of him. I wish I did not know his name. What did you say to him?”
“I laughed at him. No one would believe him. He had nothing from Georgiana to prove there was ever anything between them. No locks of hair or other tokens. No letters…” Darcy glanced down at his hands. “I told him if he told anyone, he would never find an heiress to marry as he intended. All he would reveal was he was the sort of man who would try to persuade a young lady of good family to elope with him. Doors would be shut against him for evermore. No one would trust him near their daughters ever again. Wickham was enraged, but he was ever a coward. He ran away, and I saw nothing of him since.”
“He must have grown desperate,” I replied. “To go to you of all people shows he greatly needed money. I suppose that is why he ran away. I just never for a moment thought he would take my sister with him, though. Or that my sister would go with him. But she is a foolish girl who thinks of nothing but men and balls and flirting. And now, she has thrown herself away on a man who will never marry her. She will be ruined and disgraced and us with her.” For the first time, I felt my tears coming on. I tried to stop them, but they poured down my cheeks as I thought how Lydia’s actions might have ruined everything for all of us. Darcy had fallen silent. The sight of my tears distressed him, but he clearly did not know how to respond. His face was grim.
“I should return you to your family,” he said. “You should be together now.”
He stood up and offered me his arm. We walked in silence back to the house. My tears had subsided. I wished Darcy would say something, but he looked so severe, I thought I was not yet ready to know what he might say.
“Will you come into the house?” I asked as we stopped at the steps.
Darcy looked up at the house as though contemplating it.
“No,” he said finally. “I will be in the way. I think it best if I leave you now.”
I nodded though my heart felt so heavy I did not know if I could stand it. I took a deep breath.
“Very well, then.”
Darcy bowed over my hands. His kiss was vague as though his mind was already elsewhere. The tears sprang in my eyes, but I would not allow myself to cry in front of him. I nodded as he took one last look at me, then strode away across the park. I waited until I could no longer see him before allowing the tears to come.
31
An hour later, I received a note from Netherfield. I tore it open with shaking hands, hurrying to the window alcove that I might read it without my mother demanding to know the contents. In her distress over Lydia, she had all but forgotten my argument with Darcy the day before. I could not have borne her laments that he would leave me over this. It touched too close to my deepest fear. I did not trust I could have responded to her anguish with reasonable self-command.
“Dear Elizabeth,
I am writing this brief note to tell you some business has arisen in London that requires my urgent attention there. I am not sure how long I shall be away. I shall write to you once I return,
Yours,
Darcy.”
I drew a shuddering breath as the words hit me like a blow. Darcy had distanced himself from me in this time of my greatest distress. No doubt the time in London would allow him to gather his thoughts and see what his next plan might be. Perhaps he might even consult his solicitor to find the best way to end the engagement. Try as I might with my usual optimism, I could not see any way I could take his actions in a good light. At a time like this, I should have felt the strength of his love for me. Perhaps he decided it was not all that strong when it came down to it?
Father was ready to leave not long after. I knocked on his library door.
“Come in,” he said in a flat voice.
I entered.
“When are you leaving?”
“Almost this very moment. I want to be there before dark so I will have time to discuss with Edward where we might go.” He did not look up at me as he gathered and stacked papers on his desk and placed out some marked ones.
“Will you make sure these are sent to their recipients? They are letters regarding the running of the estate in my absence.”
“Perhaps Jane can do it,” I replied.
My father paused in his actions and frowned.
“What are you saying?”
“I am saying I am resolved to travel with you to London to help in your search for Lydia.”
My father smiled and shook his head.
“I am afraid not, my dear. It is not a journey suitable for a young lady. Besides, you have too much to do with planning your wedding. How would you explain your absence to Mr Darcy? Where is he, by the way? I should have thought he would not want to leave your side?”
I swallowed and averted my eyes to the carpet before I embarrassed myself. My father came toward me.
“What is it, my dear? Has our disgrace chased him away?”
“I am afraid so. At least I think it has. You know how proud he is.” My voice wavered. My father took my hand and sighed.
“Ah, these timid-hearted lovers. Then he is not worthy of you, my dear.”
“I thought that hardly mattered? We had to marry, do you recall? To save my reputation.”
“But that is no longer necessary, is it? After what Lydia has done, all our reputations are ruined, anyway. There is nothing for Mr Darcy to save. I suppose he is thinking of his younger sister.”
I blinked as I tried to take in his harsh words. My father always spared little time for sentiment. But I could not argue with him. He was telling the truth, no matter how little I liked to hear it. The reason for my marriage to Darcy no longer mattered.
“So, you see, there is nothing to keep me here,” I said. “Please, Father. I cannot stay here with Mama and my sisters. I need to be away. I need an occupation.”
“I have given you an occupation…”
“Not that,” I said impatiently, waving at the letters. “I need a change of scenery and to do something useful. Perhaps if we find Lydia, I might to a better task of persuading her away from Wickham than you or Uncle could do. She might be more inclined to listen to me. Is it not better that I at least be on hand if that is the case?”
My father shook his head, but I could see he was wavering.
“I am leaving right away. I do not have time to wait for you to prepare…”
“Wait five more minutes,” I said, my heart lifting for the first time all day. I hurried from the room and raced up the stairs.
In my room, I found my trunk, which, fortunately, had not yet been moved to the attic after my return from London. I grabbed some gowns and other pieces I might need before calling for our footman and ordering him to carry them downstairs. In a little over five minute
s, I was standing with my father on the steps saying goodbye to the rest of the family.
“I do not see why Lizzy has to go,” said my mother in a querulous voice. “Mr Darcy will want her here. They have a wedding to plan.”
“Mr Darcy is already in London, Mama. He will not miss me,” I replied.
“Why should he go away so suddenly? He is not still angry about yesterday?”
I sighed and kissed my mother on the cheek.
“I will write to you every day, no matter what news we have,” I assured Jane. She smiled through her tears and squeezed my hand. Kitty sobbed so loudly, I merely patted her on the shoulder and then allowed Father to hand me into the carriage.
We travelled in silence. My father was lost in his thoughts, and I was likewise. No matter how much I told myself to think of Lydia, my mind kept returning to Darcy and the desperate fear I would never see him again.
My aunt and uncle greeted us with astonishment when we were shown into their drawing room.
“I think we are growing used to Lizzy turning up unexpectedly,” said Uncle as he kissed my cheek. “What is the matter? We received no note to say you were coming.”
Once in the parlour with the servants sent away, Father told them everything. My aunt and uncle listened in horror. Aunt Gardiner held my hand as she shook her head.
“Foolish girl! I cannot believe she had it in her to do something like this.”
“Neither could I yesterday. But now, I can see her in no other light,” I said angrily. “She has always been thoughtless. Her head has been filled with nothing but love and soldiers for months. The only wonder is she did not do something even worse before ever leaving Hertfordshire.”
“Lizzy!” said my aunt in shock.
My father shook his head.
“Lizzy is correct. I should have done more to restrain her, but I contented myself with laughing at her folly. Her idiocy entertained me, so I allowed it and did not bother to correct her. It is a wonder she has not presented us with a natural grandchild for us to raise before disappearing. Ah, well. There is still time for that. I suppose it is more likely to happen now, more than ever.” He scratched his chin. “I have always liked the idea of a grandson named after me,” he mused. “Thomas is a fine name. I just never imagined it on a natural grandchild. I always pictured it as Lizzy or Jane’s son.”
“There is no need for such thoughts,” said Uncle Gardiner. “Natural as they might be, it will not serve us. Lydia only left yesterday. There is every chance we can recover her before something as permanent as that takes place. Come, we shall think of any places they are likely to be.”
This proved more challenging. Lydia had rarely been to stay with my aunt and uncle. It had always been unsaid, but they found her far too trying. Wickham knew London well considering it was there that Denny met him before prevailing on him to join the militia. But where his haunts might be, we had no idea. I wracked my brains trying to think of somewhere he might have mentioned or names of people he might know, but I came up blank.
“We will send around a general description of him,” said my uncle. “Someone will recognise him.”
“Both of them are foolish and vain,” I added. “They will not stay hidden away. It is not in their natures. Eventually, they will come out. Lydia would love some plays in Drury Lane. Perhaps we might give the staff their descriptions as well? And the gambling halls. Wickham cannot stay away from a card table.”
It was something to start with. Though it felt like searching for a needle in a haystack, we at least had a plan. The servants came to light the candles when aunt and uncle insisted Father, and I retire for the night.
“You both look exhausted,” said Aunt Gardiner. “You, in particular, Lizzy. I have never seen anyone look so troubled. I did not think you and Lydia were as close as all that.”
I shrugged. “She is still my sister.” I stood up quickly before she could ask me any more questions. “Good night.”
I had not been settled long in my room when there was a gentle tap on the door. My aunt put her head around.
“May I speak to you?”
I hesitated then nodded. Aunt came in and sat at the end of my bed.
“It is not just Lydia, is it?” Her look was penetrating but kind. I wanted to deny it, but I could not resist the relief of unburdening myself.
“No, it is not.”
“Mr Darcy?”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
“You have grown to care for him?”
I looked down at the bedspread, tracing the design with my finger.
“I am afraid so.”
Aunt Gardiner sighed. “And you are afraid he will not wish to marry you because of Lydia’s disgrace?”
“I have good reason to fear he will not.”
I told her about our argument, his behaviour toward my mother, and how he had left Hertfordshire when he learned of what Lydia had done.
“I suppose I cannot blame him,” I said. “It is a lot to ask any man to take on such a disgrace. He will be tainted by association. Perhaps he fears for his sister’s prospects.”
“His sister has thirty thousand pounds to her name,” said Aunt firmly. “I think her prospects are just fine. Come, you do not know he left to be away from you. He is soon to marry. He must have much to handle before he is ready. Matters of his estate, perhaps. He might have business to attend to so he can concentrate on being a husband for the first few weeks of your lives together. You have no reason to believe he will leave you.”
I shook my head. “I wish I could believe you. But I cannot. You did not see the look on his face when I told him. He was so cold. As cold as he used to be when I knew him first. Perhaps any regard he had for me was not enough to overcome his aversion to my family. And now, he has every reason to think ill of them. They have proven him right. Of course, he will not wish to connect himself with them. I almost do not wish it. No, Aunt, I can honestly say I will not blame him if he has nothing to do with me after this. And no one else will either. As Father says, there is little point in him marrying me to save my reputation now. Once word gets out about Lydia, I will no longer have one to protect.”
“I still think you are taking a very dim view, my dear. There might be many reasons for Mr Darcy’s behaviour.”
“Like what?” I raised my eyes. “If you were in distress, would Uncle leave you to deal with it alone? Or would he wish to be by your side more than ever?”
My aunt sighed and looked away. I knew she could not answer that in a way that would not sting. I smiled at her and touched her hand.
“You need not worry about me. Perhaps it is as you say and I am anxious for nothing. Now, I think we all need some sleep. Thanks to Lydia, the next few days will not be easy.”
32
Pride prevented me from writing to Darcy and telling him I was also in London. I would not have him believe I followed him there so our paths might cross. If he wished to write to me, he would send a letter to Longbourn, and my mother would eagerly inform him of my presence in Gracechurch Street. If he cared for me still, he would have written as soon as he arrived and I would have a letter to my aunt and uncle’s house, or preferably a visit. But morning after morning, I came downstairs only to swallow my disappointment when I found no note and no visitor.
There was also no Lydia. My father and uncle left the house early every morning and did not return until late in the evening. My aunt comforted me as best she could, but she still had her children to attend to and was obliged to keep up her calls so her friends would not know something was amiss. Even though it seemed more and more hopeless as the days went by, we still thought we might recover Lydia before her reputation was tainted and our own along with it. I elected to stay home in case there was any news and busied myself with writing daily accounts to Jane though I had nothing to tell her.
Father and Uncle returned every evening, tired and worn out. Though my father was only in his fifties, not quite an old man, Lydia’s actions seemed
to have added years to him. Or rather it was guilt at his failure to be a proper father to her instead of indulging himself at her expense.
“I should have been a better father to you all,” he said one evening as we sat around the fire after yet another fruitless day. “Lydia has shown signs of being wild for years now, but I did nothing to check it. I wanted to be left alone with my books. Taking her in hand felt like too much effort. I looked the other way when your mother petted and spoiled her and indulged her worst impulses, and I laughed when Lydia’s folly was before me. No, no, do not seek to comfort me, Lizzy,” he added as I leaned toward him earnestly. “It is high time I feel the effects of how badly I have left you all down. It is no more than I deserve. Besides, it will pass soon enough.”
“There was nothing else in Captain Forster’s note that might help?” I asked. Wickham’s captain had gleaned what information he could from Wickham’s former campmates. Denny mentioned a few haunts he and Wickham used to frequent together but so far, no one there had seen any sign of Wickham. I did not know if people who frequented gambling halls and taverns of ill repute could be trusted to tell the truth, but as Father said, Wickham was not a man to inspire much loyalty. He charmed in the short term but was incapable of keeping anyone’s goodwill for long. If they knew him from before his time in the militia, they were unlikely to protect him.
Father shook his head. “Nothing. We have visited every place mentioned and offered rewards for information. Whether anything will come of it remains to be seen, but I do not hold out too much hope. Wickham wants to avoid any reckoning with his former comrades so he is unlikely to visit a place where they’d expect him to be.”
He removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes.
“You should go to bed,” I said with concern. “You must have walked miles today. You cannot help Lydia if you make yourself ill.”