Chapter 9
Elizabeth stood by the window of her father’s guest chamber, arms folded tightly against the sudden chill that had nothing to do with the spring afternoon.
Jane sat beside their father’s bed, holding his uninjured hand, her face pale.
Mr Bennet lay propped against pillows, eyes half-closed, the lines of pain and shame etched deeper than Elizabeth had ever seen.
All three of them stared at Mrs Gardiner, dumbfounded by the news.
“Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth repeated. “How could he know? From whom?”
“I had no time for enquiries, but I shall invite him in so he can explain it to us,” Mrs Gardiner said, obviously disquieted.
Elizabeth’s heart pounded as she stood in front of the door, uncertain what to do with her hands. Mr Darcy had come during the most difficult moment her family had ever faced? Why? How did he know?
He entered hesitantly, hat in hand, the very picture of restrained urgency. His eyes found Elizabeth first — only for an instant — before he bowed to the room at large.
“Mr Bennet. Mrs Gardiner. Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth.” Each name was spoken with grave courtesy, yet there was a hint of something fiercer beneath. “Dear Lord, are you injured, sir?” he asked abruptly as his gaze fell on Mr Bennet.
“It was just a small accident. I should be well. It is not my main concern. My sister says you know something about that scoundrel?”
“Yes. I have learnt — from a man in Meryton whom I recently hired — that Wickham left his regiment in the middle of the night, most likely to escape his creditors. He was seen in town early this morning in company with a young lady, whose identity was later discovered to be that of Miss Lydia Bennet. I could not understand what had happened, and that is why I dared to intrude.”
“You are not intruding, sir. In fact, your presence is a blessing,” Mr Bennet said. “It is indeed my poor, silly Lydia who foolishly eloped with him. So you know where he is? I shall go this instant. I do not have a moment to lose,” the gentleman said, struggling to rise from the bed.
“Brother, you are bleeding!” Mrs Gardiner cried, while Jane let out a sound, half sob, half gasp. “Stay still. Edward will arrive in a few moments, and he will take care of the matter,” the lady continued.
“Mr Bennet,” Mr Darcy said in a grave voice, “I am not certain of his present whereabouts. I know this morning he was seen in conversation with a Mrs Younge, who rents rooms.” At this, he glanced at Elizabeth, whose knees barely supported her.
The infamous Mrs Younge, who had conspired with Mr Wickham to deceive Miss Darcy, was still his ally?
Her heart pounded. Miss Darcy possessed both wit and wisdom, and she had informed her brother in time.
Lydia possessed neither, just as she had no money, no connections, nothing useful to him.
Why had he taken her? Why would he still be keeping her with him?
She was lost and the entire family with her.
“But we must search for them, immediately,” Mr Bennet insisted. He attempted to sit up and winced.
“You have…been watching him?” Elizabeth asked before she even realised she had spoken aloud.
“I have.” Mr Darcy met her gaze without flinching.
“I knew I could no longer trust to chance where he was concerned. The man I engaged reports directly to me. He followed them to a house in Edward Street, owned by the woman I mentioned. That man did not know I was acquainted with Mrs Younge. He came to inform me, but by the time I arrived at the house, Mrs Younge declared the fugitives had left again, travelling towards the North.”
Mr Bennet closed his eyes. “Then they are gone. And my youngest daughter is ruined, along with every one of her sisters.”
“Not if we act swiftly, sir.” Mr Darcy’s tone was firm, almost commanding, and he cast another look at Elizabeth.
“Two of my men are following them. Fresh horses will be waiting at post-houses along the Great North Road. They are travelling by carriage, so even if they are a few hours ahead now, we should be able to catch them soon if they continue in the direction of Gretna Green. We shall enquire about them at every stop.”
“You intend to follow them?” Mr Bennet asked, dumbfounded.
“Surely we cannot allow you to go to so much trouble to save my silly daughter. It is my responsibility, as it was my fault that this happened. If I were not a careless father, my daughter would not have eloped with any scoundrel who asked her.”
“Mr Bennet, as rude as it might sound, I would rather not debate this matter now, since time is pressing. Just know that Wickham has deceived many people, most of them older and wiser than Miss Lydia. If someone should be blamed, it is certainly me. I should have exposed Wickham for the wretch he is a long time ago. If I had revealed the truth about his character when I first met him in Meryton, perhaps many people would have been saved from his cunning. So the fault is mine, and so should the remedy be.”
Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief, exchanging incredulous glances with Jane and Mrs Gardiner.
“What happened? Why was Mr Gilroy fetched? Is anybody ill?”
Mr Gardiner suddenly appeared at the door, gazing at the gathering with puzzlement and concern. Behind him was the apothecary, Mr Gilroy.
“Brother? What are you doing in London? Are you hurt? And Mr Darcy?”
“My dear,” Mrs Gardiner replied, “you have arrived just in time. We should allow Mr Gilroy to examine our brother Bennet while we explain everything to you.”
Following her suggestion, they moved to the drawing room, where Mrs Gardiner explained the situation to her husband. The gentleman could not conceal his amazement.
“As I already informed your family,” Mr Darcy concluded, “I shall begin my quest immediately. Everything is settled for the journey.”
“But why would you undertake such a thing, sir? Knowing what scandal may yet attach to our family, you surely know it might affect you too. As grateful as we are for your help, we are not even related. You should not take such a burden on your shoulders,” Mr Gardiner said.
“I know precisely what sort of scandal may arise,” Mr Darcy answered quietly. “And I know what damage Wickham has already inflicted upon many people. I am not related to you, but I am related to him, in a way, since he was my father’s godson. That is enough reason.”
Elizabeth felt the words like a hand pressed to her heart. She wanted to speak, to thank him, to beg him to be careful, but the words tangled uselessly in her throat.
“Then I thank you, and I shall join you,” Mr Gardiner said.
“As you wish, sir.”
Their conversation was once again interrupted by another guest — Colonel Forster, of the regiment Mr Wickham had recently deserted. The man’s demeanour revealed his turmoil and his tiredness after the long ride.
“Mr Gardiner, Mrs Gardiner, forgive me for arriving unannounced. Your sister Mrs Bennet gave me your direction. I understand Mr Bennet is already in London, and I wondered whether you had any news… I assume you know about the elopement of one of my officers… Mr Darcy! I did not expect to see you here, sir!”
The colonel seemed unable to speak coherently, bouncing from one foot to the other.
“I cannot apologise enough…I cannot imagine how it happened! My officers are honourable men. I never expected any of them would—”
“Colonel Forster, let us make haste and postpone the explanations. We do have news about Wickham, and I am about to set off in pursuit of him. Mr Gardiner and I shall leave shortly. There will be time for more conversation later.”
“Then I shall come with you,” Colonel Forster declared. “He is my responsibility, and I must remedy his errors if possible.”
“How strange that so many honourable gentlemen consider Wickham their responsibility and feel compelled to remedy his errors,” Elizabeth whispered, and only then did she notice she was speaking her thoughts aloud.
She swallowed and added, “Since my uncle is going, I would like to come too. Perhaps my sister needs help. Perhaps I might be of some use…”
“Absolutely not!” Mr Darcy’s refusal came immediately, gentle but determined.
“You would slow us down, Miss Elizabeth. We mean to ride hard — changing horses at every stage, no carriage, no delay. You would be in danger on the road, and we cannot afford even an hour’s hindrance.
Your place is here, with your father and your sister. Trust me to bring her back.”
His words, as well as his hoarse voice and deep gaze, silenced Elizabeth, causing her to quiver.
Trust me, he had said. How could she respond?? The word hung between them, simple and enormous. Did it mean something more, or was her mind too hazy to understand properly?
Elizabeth searched his face and found there the same steady resolve she had glimpsed so many times since the theatre: the man who had written that painful, honest letter; the brother who had shielded his young sister; the friend who now championed Jane without hesitation.
She nodded once, her throat too tight for speech.
Mr Darcy’s gaze softened. “Ladies, please take care of Mr Bennet. Mrs Gardiner, here is the direction of my physician, in case his state does not improve and requires further assistance. I shall send word the moment we have news.”
“Thank you, sir, you are exceedingly generous,” Mrs Gardiner replied. He bowed, briefly and correctly, looking rather uneasy.
“You are most kind and generous, indeed, sir,” Mr Bennet said, drawing everyone’s attention as he limped through the door.
“However, as I said, this is nothing but a superficial cut. I entered into an altercation with a drunk man while asking about Wickham at an inn. That idiot pulled out a knife and struck me but was immediately taken down by the innkeeper.”
“Dear Lord, Papa!” Jane gasped.
“Do not fret, Jane, it is nothing. I am well. Better than I deserve to be.”
“Mr Bennet is not really well,” the apothecary interjected. “As I told him, the cut is not very deep, but it is not to be neglected either. I am sure the blade will have been dirty, so there is always the danger of an infection. Mr Bennet should stay in bed and take the medicines I have left him.”
“I promise he will do just that,” Mrs Gardiner answered.
“And I would not reject Mr Darcy’s offer so easily,” the apothecary said. “It would do no harm if a physician examines him too, just to be sure. I would certainly not mind.”
“Thank you, Mr Gilroy, we shall follow your advice,” Mrs Gardiner said. “And thank you again, Mr Darcy.”
“There is nothing to thank me for,” Mr Darcy replied.
“Indeed, there is, and I have to thank you, too, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth whispered.
She did not feel composed enough to speak, but not thanking him was impossible.
“I feel I am to blame the most since I believed that man’s stories when we first met…
Jane warned me that I had granted him my trust too easily, but I was such an arrogant, prejudiced simpleton—”
“Lizzy,” Jane interjected, gently grasping her arm. “There is no need for that.”
“It is needed since you all know that I judged Mr Darcy mistakenly and harshly at the beginning of our acquaintance, and I offered Mr Wickham my friendship equally mistakenly and hastily. And now, one of them has ruined our family, and the other one is trying to save it.”
Elizabeth spoke her heart openly, in the presence of her uncle, aunt, sister, father, the colonel, and the apothecary, as well as Mr Darcy himself; her guilt was too gripping and her tears too heavy to be controlled.
“Miss Elizabeth, we must leave now, but I promise that, as soon as we return and have this matter resolved fully, I shall be happy to debate with you and Mr Bennet as to who should bear the biggest share of blame in regard to Wickham,” Mr Darcy said with a little smile.
“Mr Gardiner, Colonel, are you ready? Let us go!”
With that, he hurried to the door, the other two gentlemen closely behind. Jane held her father’s arm tightly, as if stopping him from following them.
For a moment, there was a heavy silence, the four of them glancing at each other, still in shock, forgetting about the apothecary.
“Well, I shall leave you now,” Mr Gilroy said. “Do not hesitate to call me again if you need me.”
Several expressions of gratitude followed, then he left, while the silence and torment returned to envelop the other four.
“What kind of father would allow his daughter the liberty to ruin the lives of his entire family?” Mr Bennet whispered.
“What sort of father allows his fifteen-year-old daughter to be in the company of officers? And now, a complete stranger — Mr Darcy — and my brother are expected to settle this predicament that I am responsible for.”
“Papa, you should go and rest. We need you to heal as quickly as possible,” Jane said. “Mr Darcy is right, blaming ourselves will not help at all at this time of sorrow.”
“Yes, yes, my dear, what else can I do but rest while Mr Darcy is saving my silly daughter? By the by, I hope you realise Lydia’s scandal will affect you and Lizzy too…”
“Let us not assume more than there is,” Mrs Gardiner said. “Perhaps Mr Darcy, Edward, and the colonel will find a reasonable resolution to this affair.”
“What would be a reasonable resolution?” Mr Bennet asked.
“The only thing that might save her from ruin would be to marry that scoundrel, but why would he take on such a burden? And even if he were to marry her, though I find that impossible, she would be tied for life to that horrible man. Either way, her future would be miserable. That is the truth,” the gentleman said, limping back to his chamber.
Elizabeth’s heart raced while a sharp claw — perhaps a blade, just like the one that had injured her father — cut into her chest. She knew he was right; Lydia’s life was ruined, regardless, and she would be forever miserable, one way or another.
Mr Bingley might never return to see Jane, let alone to propose to her.
As for Mr Darcy, he would certainly keep his promise to find Lydia and bring her back. But with that, he would only prove once more that he was a man of honour. Elizabeth could not hope for anything more, not from a man she had rejected and offended, even if she had now come to admire him.