Chapter 3
A night and a day of cold rain mirrored the cold fear inside the hearts of Elizabeth and her family.
Colonel Forster returned to his regiment as he planned, disappointed and downhearted for being unable to help. Despite all their efforts, there was no sign of the fugitives.
Mr. Bennet would not agree to rest until the second evening of his arrival in Town.
He declined meals and conversation, and his distress broke Elizabeth’s heart.
She felt helpless and found little comfort in her aunt’s words of encouragement.
She needed all her strength to keep her composure in front of her young cousins, although she would rather have locked herself in her room and cried in solitude.
After Mr. Bennet retired for the night, Elizabeth and the Gardiners gathered at the dinner table. The silence and tension were unbearable, but none of them found the will to start a conversation. By the end of the first course, Mrs. Gardiner finally inquired.
“Lizzy, did you write to Jane? They must be apprehensive not knowing what is happening.”
“I did, Aunt, but sadly there was nothing I could tell her. Nothing has really happened, and I fear nothing will. If only we could find Lydia and bring her home safely.”
“Dearest, we count on you to be strong for your family. They will need you to support them. Let us hope and pray that things will end up better than we can foresee now,” Mr. Gardiner added.
“I will try to be strong, Uncle, but I cannot deceive myself…” Elizabeth answered, wiping her eyes. Her aunt gently squeezed her hand in comfort.
“I will continue the search tomorrow, first thing in the morning,” Mr. Gardiner assured them. “I shall not stop until I find something.”
“It is such a difficult, blind effort,” Mrs. Gardiner added.
“If we at least had some indications to narrow the quest…if we only knew some of Wickham’s preferred places or friends in London.
Colonel Forster said none of his fellow officers in the militia knew much about Wickham before he joined the regiment. ”
“He surely did not appear from nowhere,” Mr. Gardiner replied severely, growing angrier with each word.
“I will track him down eventually. How dare he believe he can trifle with a young lady who is not without family or friends and get away with it? I will expose his character to the entire world, and not only will he never find a decent living, he will be removed from polite society forever.”
“He does deserve all this and more,” Mrs. Gardiner answered, still caressing Elizabeth, who only listened in silence, lost in her own thoughts, her eyes fixed upon the empty table.
The lady continued. “I was thinking…what if I sent an express to my relative in Lambton? He told me himself that he was born and raised at Pemberley —only five miles away from my hometown. Somebody must know something of him…”
“But, my dear, an express to Lambton and the answer from your relative will take days! We cannot afford to wait that long. It might be a good idea as a last recourse, but we must be careful how we word the questions. We do not want to spread our bad news more than necessary.”
“Then I shall start writing it straight away and ask for your opinion before I send it. Will you help me, Lizzy?”
No answer came, as Elizabeth appeared far away from them, tears moistening her eyes as she bit her nails nervously.
“Mr. Darcy,” she whispered, and her words startled her relatives, who exchanged worried glances. It was evident their niece was more affected and disturbed than they believed.
“Lizzy? What are you saying, my dear? Yes, Mr. Darcy is from Pemberley,” Mrs. Gardiner answered tenderly, as if talking to a child.
“Mr. Darcy knows Wickham very well…he could give us some indication about where we should search. If only he would want to. Nobody knows Wickham better than Mr. Darcy…if he would only agree to help us…” she repeated then started to cry steadily and left her place at the table, moving to the window.
“My dear, you are the bravest young woman I ever met, and it pains me to see you so distressed.” Mrs. Gardiner caressed her hair.
“Let us not take this so tragically. I know it is agonising, but Lydia is neither the first nor the last young woman to fall in love with a gentleman and elope with him. Even the ton has such stories. And you cannot seriously believe Lydia is in danger. He would not jeopardise her safety, would he? You once thought highly of him. Why are you now so inclined to presume the worst?”
“I did once think highly of him, Aunt,” Elizabeth answered through her sobs, “and that is why I feel so guilty now. I have been a blind fool, and I allowed myself to be deceived by his appearance of goodness. It has been many weeks now since I began to change my opinion of him, but sadly I did not tell anyone. His not going to Scotland but hiding in London with Lydia with no news for her family has eliminated any doubts remaining about his character. He will never marry a woman without money; Papa is correct. He could not afford it, even if he were deeply enamoured of her. What about Colonel Forster’s statement?
He knows very well that this elopement cannot have a positive outcome. ”
“But would Lydia consent to live with him on any other terms than marriage? And if she is in any real danger, would she not be able to find help?” Mrs. Gardiner continued.
“I know not what to say; perhaps, I am not doing her justice, but she is so young, and she has never been taught to think on serious subjects. She has been allowed to dispose of her time in the most idle and frivolous manner. For many months now, nothing but love, flirtation, and officers have been in her head. I am sorry to see dear Papa so pained, and I cannot put the entire blame on him. We all carry guilt for the present situation; we should have done more to discipline Lydia. And now we have to suffer the consequences.”
“Lizzy darling, let us talk rationally. Tell me again: Are you confident that Mr. Darcy might know about Wickham? How can you have such information?” Mr. Gardiner inquired.
“Yes…I am certain…” she whispered, rubbing her hands. “Mr. Wickham told me that the late Mr. Darcy was his godfather and they grew up together at Pemberley. And Mr. Darcy himself confirmed his close connection between them.”
“Yes, yes, Wickham told me the same when we met at Longbourn. But I was under the impression they were rather enemies than friends,” Mrs. Gardiner added.
“That is true…Mr. Darcy has a poor opinion of Wickham…but he might have information to help us find him,” Elizabeth continued in a low voice.
“But is Mr. Darcy even in town? Do you know his address? How can we find him? And how can we possibly apply to him with such a request? From what I know, you did not consider him a friend, Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner spoke animatedly. Elizabeth only shook her head.
“I do not know, Aunt…I do not have an answer to either of your questions. I do not know…”
“Finding Mr. Darcy’s address would not be a problem.
His family is well known in Town, I imagine.
And for other details, I would suggest talking to Mr. Bingley or his sisters.
We already know their location since you and Jane visited them last spring,” Mr. Gardiner addressed his wife.
“I believe Lizzy’s idea is exceedingly helpful.
I will take care of it first thing in the morning.
And I will talk to Mr. Darcy myself. He might not be on friendly terms with Lizzy or the family, and he might be proud and disagreeable, but if he is an honourable gentleman, he will at least give me some hints.
I will approach him carefully. Yes, that is what I will do,” Mr. Gardiner concluded, his expression suddenly more lighthearted, content that they had found a way to continue their search.
“Only if Mr. Darcy is in Town and he agrees to talk to you,” Elizabeth whispered.
“I trust he will, my dear. I cannot wait to tell my brother Bennet. Lizzy dear, if only you had come up with this idea last night, we might have found them by now. But it is well as it is —thank God. Now let us retire. We have another hard day tomorrow,” her uncle said.
It was midnight before Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner went to sleep with lighter hearts and new hope.
In the solitude of her room, Elizabeth was more restless than the rapidly falling rain.
Her soul was empty and her mind tormented.
She blamed herself for giving unreasonable hope to her relatives and for placing Mr. Gardiner in a most humiliating position.
What would Mr. Darcy do when he discovered her uncle from Cheapside at his door, asking for help to find Wickham?
Even before she rejected his marriage proposal, he probably would have refused to be involved with people in trade.
She could not imagine he would behave politely after everything that happened between them.
Was there a way to inquire without disclosing the entire truth —perhaps not even mentioning Mr. Gardiner’s connection to her? But would Mr. Darcy talk even for a moment with an unknown man not within his circle of acquaintances? Her heart ached thinking of her father’s new disappointment.
Why was she so reckless in suggesting this solution? How could she offer the last man in the world who was likely to help them as an anchor for their hopes?
But was he even in London? Likely, not —the members of the ton usually spent the summer on their estates in the country. Perhaps it would be better if they were unable to speak to him at all. It would have been better had she not thought of Mr. Darcy at all.
And yet, for the next hours, Elizabeth thought of little else. All her wonderings, worries, and fears for her youngest sister now spun around Mr. Darcy. The more she struggled to remove him from her mind, the more he seemed to invade it.