Chapter Five
Lambton, Derbyshire
“Two letters ‘ave come for you, miss.” The inn-maid curtsied as she proffered the papers.
“Oh, thank you!” Accepting them, Elizabeth looked at Mrs Gardiner. “They are from Jane... I wondered why she had not written! She has written the direction on this one very ill, it must have been delayed. Would you mind very much..?”
She did not even have to finish the question. Her aunt smiled and patted her arm. “Of course you must sit down and read your letters. Henry and I will just walk to the church, and call back for you in a little while.”
Elizabeth thanked her aunt and uncle profusely, which thanks they waved off, laughing as they departed.
Left alone, she hurried to sit on the window-seat.
The date on the mis-directed one came first, almost a week past; she opened that one first and frowned as she tried to decipher Jane’s normally neat writing.
My dearest Lizzy,
Prepare yourself, for what I am about to say will surely come as a great and terrible shock. Last night, after we were all gone to bed, an express rider came from Colonel Forster in Brighton.
“Oh, no,” Elizabeth said aloud. “Whatever has Lydia done?” Biting her lip anxiously, she read on.
Colonel Forster’s letter related some very strange goings-on in Brighton. Oh Lizzy, Lydia attempted to run away, to elope, to leave all her friends and run off to Gretna Green, with none other than Mr Wickham!
The letter slipped from Elizabeth’s fingers to the floor. She stared at it, tears welling in her eyes. “No,” she said. “No, this cannot be.”
She did not want to pick up the letter. She did not want to read the rest, to know that she and Jane were surely as ruined in the eyes of society as Lydia now must be. To have it confirmed that Mr Darcy, once he knew, would never again look at her with that warm light dancing in his dark eyes.
A tap on the door made her look up, and as though her thoughts had summoned him, the inn-maid introduced Darcy himself. She could barely make herself rise, and no sooner had the door closed behind him than Darcy was striding towards her, concern all over his face.
“Miss Bennet! Whatever is the matter?”
Elizabeth covered her face, unable to look at him. She felt his strong hand at her elbow, guiding her to sit back down, even as she burst into helpless, hopeless tears.
“Good God, whatever is it?” Darcy said softly, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it into her hands. “Whatever has caused you such distress?”
“Lydia,” Elizabeth choked. “She has - she has run off with... with Wickham!”
“What?” Darcy went very still.
He will leave now, and I shall never see him again. Elizabeth cried harder at the thought, barely able to get the words out. Somehow, she managed to gesture at the letter on the floor. “Read it. I cannot bear to...”
“It is your private letter, Elizabeth.” He scooped it up and glanced quickly at the salutation.
“Read it!” Burying her face in his handkerchief, she sobbed her grief, heartbroken.
Darcy sighed, and, to her surprise, took a seat beside her, his arm brushing hers. She peered sideways at him through her tears, watching his expression harden as he read, until suddenly he began to look quite startled.
“Elizabeth, did you read all of this letter?“ he asked, never taking his eyes from the page.
“N-no,” she admitted. “And there is a second. Jane wrote the direction on the first very ill.”
“She must have been shocked, I daresay.” Lowering the page, Darcy looked at her. “Elizabeth, Lydia is not with Wickham. They were stopped before ever leaving Brighton.”
“What?” Elizabeth’s tears stopped immediately, and Darcy put the letter back into her hand.
“Jane says that they were intercepted by some other officers, one of whom, a colonel in the regulars, has offered to marry Lydia himself.”
Elizabeth scanned the page with mounting disbelief. There was no further mention of Wickham, nothing really more than Darcy had already said. Looking up at him, she shook her head.
“This makes no sense!”
“It is rather surprising,” Darcy understated. “What of the other letter you mentioned?”
Fishing it from her pocket, Elizabeth almost tore the paper in her desperate rush to open the letter. Her hands were shaking too badly to read; she thrust the letter at Darcy.
“Please, will you tell me what it says?”
He looked at her earnestly, but accepted it from her hand and began to read.
Dear Lizzy,
Things have settled down not a whit since my last letter; how I wish you were here with us to make sense of it all!
Only a few hours after Colonel Forster’s letter arrived, another special courier came, this one bearing a letter from the officer who has offered to marry Lydia, requesting formal permission to court her and for the first banns to be read in the church at Brighton this coming Sunday.
Mama is beside herself, since she wishes Lydia to be married from Longbourn, of course.
“Of course,” Elizabeth said dryly. “The scandal would matter not a whit, only that Mama would be able to send Lydia off in style.”
Darcy gave her a speaking look, holding the letter out to her again, but she shook her head.
“Finish it. You know how ridiculous my family can be; you may as well.”
Papa says he will not give his consent to the wedding until he has spoken to Colonel Forster and to this other colonel himself.
Mama will not be left behind, so she and Papa are departing at dawn tomorrow for Brighton.
We should go with them, but for our Gardiner cousins staying with us, so they go alone and Mary, Kitty and I are to remain here with Hill and the children.
I am not sure how I shall be able to stand the waiting until we hear some news.
Oh, Lizzy, I hate to ask this of you, but I pray you will ask our Uncle and Aunt to return here with you as soon as may be.
The children, though we have not told them what is happening, are disturbed by Papa and Mama’s hasty rush to depart and are asking for their mama, and I know Uncle Gardiner’s wise counsel would be of great help to Papa, if he would consent to join them in Brighton.
You, of course, I wish to keep here with me, so that I may selfishly lean upon your strength while I panic.
I must go now to complete Mama’s packing, for the hour grows late. I will give this to Hill to post in the morning and I fervently hope you will soon join us here at Longbourn.
Your loving sister, Jane.
There was nothing but silence in the room for several long minutes, as Elizabeth stared out of the window and Darcy gazed at her.
“I do not know what to make of it,” Elizabeth said at last, “save that I must depart immediately, whether my aunt and uncle wish to or not.”
“I will take you, if they will not,” Darcy said immediately.
“Why would you?” Elizabeth gaped at him. “Indeed, you must not, your guests...”
“I care not. Wickham sought to compromise your sister, and the letters make no mention of what has been done with him after they were stopped. I must go to Brighton to ensure that he is properly dealt with.” His handsome face was set in uncompromising lines.
“Oh.” For one shining moment, she had thought he wanted to go to Brighton for her sake.
“It is, after all, entirely my fault.”
“What?” Startled, she blinked at him.
“I should not have sworn you to secrecy.” Darcy raked a hand through his hair, looking anguished.
“If I had given you permission to tell your father... if I had done what I ought and informed Colonel Forster myself of what kind of man Wickham was while I was yet in Hertfordshire, he would have been drummed out of the militia long since, and would never have been in Brighton with your sister in the first place.”
“Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth said and, greatly daring, reached out to put her hand on his arm.
“I refuse to allow you to blame yourself for Lydia’s behaviour.
She was quite determined to make an exhibition of herself in some place or another; indeed, I do not doubt that she will be gloating at her good fortune in falling on her feet and finding a husband despite the severity of her mis-step.
I begged and pleaded with my father to refuse to let her go, warned him that she would create a scandal.
If not with Wickham, there would have been another officer just as ready to take advantage of her easy nature and foolishness, I assure you. ”
“I do not know your sister well enough to judge,” Darcy said, “and I have learned well my lesson about judging those I do not know well.”
To Elizabeth’s immense surprise, he took her hand in his and pressed a light kiss against her knuckles before continuing.
“Yet, I know Wickham only too well. I know that teenage girls are susceptible to his brand of false charm... and I should have said something once I understood how he had taken even you in with his tales of woe. I must bear some of the blame, and it is now a matter of honour for me to ensure he is never able to deceive his way into the good graces of any person of standing, ever again.”
Elizabeth seized on a particular phrase. “You say it is a matter of honour, Mr Darcy... please tell me you do not mean to fight a duel with him?”
“If the militia has not already suitably punished him, then I must,” Darcy said stoically.
The mere thought of Darcy facing Wickham with pistols at dawn made Elizabeth feel ill. She pressed shaking fingers to her lips.
“I pray it does not come to that!”
Darcy’s hand on hers was very gentle as he squeezed her fingers. “Would you care, Elizabeth?”
She stared at him. At the handsome, noble face she had once thought proud, but now realised was merely reserved with strangers. At that warm light in his brown eyes.
“I would care very much,” she whispered.
They stared at each other for a long moment in silence, until the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside recalled Darcy to their surroundings. Rising to his feet as the door opened, he turned with a sombre expression for Mr and Mrs Gardiner.