Chapter 2 #4
“I admit I share Mr. Bennet’s fear,” the colonel added.
“Lieutenant Denny confessed after a long interrogation that Wickham never mentioned anything about a wedding. I went to inform your family personally, and Mr. Bennet and I came to track their route. I did trace them to Clapham but no farther. It seems they took a hackney coach from there. They were next seen on the road to London. I have reason to believe they are in Town. I must be with the regiment tomorrow night, but I am ready to do everything I can to…”
The colonel seemed to have lost all composure, and his speech was barely coherent.
“Colonel, please take a seat and have a drink. Let us all talk about this calmly. Surely, we will find a solution. It is a painful situation, indeed, but we will find a way…”
Mr. Gardiner attempted to intervene while Elizabeth struggled to breathe and to fight the tears that stung her eyes.
“There is no other way but to find them and to force him to marry her,” Mr. Bennet answered before requesting a glass of water. His face was red, and he spoke hastily, pacing around the room.
“I should not have allowed Lydia to go to Brighton. You were right, Lizzy, I should have listened to you. How did we not guess what kind of man Wickham was? And why would he run away with Lydia? He must know that she has nothing to tempt him. Did anyone notice his partiality to her? I know he used to favour Lizzy. How could he elope with your own sister, Lizzy? What kind of man is this? How is it that we were all so easily deceived? He laughed at us and treated us like the fools we were.”
Elizabeth took her father’s arm, trying to support him, while the colonel again attempted to apologise for not treating the situation as carefully as he should have.
“Sir, no one could blame you. Nobody could have imagined such a thing might occur,” Mr. Bennet offered. “None of us suspected such a devious character. If it is anyone’s fault, it is mine alone.”
“Papa, please, you will harm yourself. We will find a way, just as my uncle said. It will be of no use to torment yourself further…”
“Who else should be tormented if not me, Lizzy? I have not been a good father; I know that. I have been too indolent, too careless, and this is the result. Sadly, there will be many others besides Lydia affected by this situation. I do not see how this can be resolved in an acceptable way. I would be content if we could find them and at least know Lydia is safe. Now I am thinking of all sorts of tragedies…”
“Papa, please…this excessive distress will not allow you to pursue any measure in the best and safest way. I do not believe there is anything you can do at this time of night. If there is something that must be done or some place to go, perhaps I could go with my uncle. You and the colonel must rest for a little while…”
Mr. Bennet removed his daughter’s comforting hand from his arm.
“We cannot rest, Lizzy. How can you even suggest it? We will check every inn in London. It will take a day or two or three, but somebody must have seen them. We have not a moment to lose. And your coming with us is not even worth discussing.”
“Papa…”
“Lizzy! I shall not hear a word of disobedience from either of my daughters! Enough is enough! We will go now!”
“Let us go, Brother. We will take my carriage. I will give orders that your horses and the coachman are taken care of. The fewer people involved in this story, the better. Lizzy, please inform your aunt. Tell her we will return when we have an answer.”
The gentlemen left in haste, their steps sounding in Elizabeth’s ears long after they departed. She kept repeating to herself that her youngest sister had eloped with Wickham and they were nowhere to be found, still hoping it was a mistake, a confusion.
Moment by moment, her mind admitted the truth as well as the justice of her father’s statement.
Wickham had no real affection for Lydia, just as he had none for Mary King and likely many other young ladies before.
He must have been forced by his creditors to run away, and he took with him the first silly girl he found.
He would likely abandon her somewhere —if only their father could find her in time.
For the present, she did not consider the effect of Lydia’s actions on their family, on their future; her only fear was for the safety of her sister and of her father —whose state of turmoil was different from anything she had ever witnessed before.
Their mother must have been in great suffering too; Lydia was her favourite child.
And poor Jane, how did she bear all this?
And there was nothing she could do to help them —neither those at Longbourn nor those in London.
Her father said he was the only one to blame.
But she felt guiltier than anyone else. She was the one who believed Mr. Wickham from the beginning; she introduced him to her family as a trustworthy friend.
She spoke highly of him in front of her younger and more na?ve sisters.
It was her fault that Lydia considered him a charming, kind, and honourable man and fell in love with him so much that she readily agreed to elope with him.
How was it possible that none of them discovered Wickham’s real character, her father had asked —because she had been blind, foolish, and hasty in judging him, and that influenced her entire family and allowed the situation to occur.
In the middle of the room, Elizabeth stared at the door with her hands trembling and tears falling down her cheeks, still holding Lydia’s letter tightly.
She looked at the crumpled piece of paper as she recollected a letter she had recklessly torn because of her unreasonable anger, and words flew in front of her eyes: “the vicious propensities —the want of principle”… “his life was a life of idleness and dissipation.”
The words had been written for her to read and to understand, but she dismissed them —words that, if treated with proper consideration, might have disclosed Wickham’s true character a long time ago and kept her sister from becoming a victim of his deceit.
Mr. Darcy had long tried to warn her. He offered her the truth, and she threw it away. She threw away her sister’s peace and happiness —as well as her family’s future. It was her fault, and the punishment struck her forcefully.
If only he knew, he would surely rejoice in his success. What man would not?
She moved hesitantly, as in a nightmare —one foot in front of the other —to her aunt’s chamber.
She briefly wondered how her aunt —barely recovered from her illness —would receive such news.
But she had to share it, just as her uncle required.
Perhaps Mrs. Gardiner might think of something…
perhaps an idea to aid the difficult quest.
But Elizabeth knew her hopes were futile. Without an extraordinary, merciful accident of luck, finding Wickham and Lydia was a daunting task, impossible to solve. Everything seemed lost.