Chapter 7
Darcy and Bingley got away from the rest of the party for only a moment, but Darcy found himself even then wanting to be back at Elizabeth's side.
"What is it, Bingley?" he asked, huffing with some petulant impatience, which his friend raised an eyebrow at.
"Goodness, Darcy, control your temper," he chastised teasingly for a moment, before taking on a more serious look. They were all outside, in the garden, but Bingley had pulled him away, to some shrubbery. Bingley absentmindedly picked at a leaf on a nearby bush.
"I am asking you your opinion, on whether you think I really should venture back to Hertfordshire."
Darcy furrowed his brow. "I thought I already suggested it?"
"Yes, you did, but I wasn't sure. You were the one, after all, who urged me to depart from there last autumn."
A nearby animal ran through the bushes, making some noise. Darcy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Your sisters made it seem like she had no affection for you, among other objections."
Bingley sighed and shook his head. "And you think they are wrong now—but why? You haven't met Jane, I mean, Miss Bennet—"
"But I've been introduced to Miss Elizabeth," Darcy countered. "The Bennets cannot be so horrid, if a lady like Miss Elizabeth is among their number. I know they have little to offer in way of fortune or connections, but if you are certain she might love you in return—"
"Oh, but I was certain of it last autumn!” Bingley cried out, frustrated, throwing out his hands, “I should have never listened to you or my sisters, Darcy."
Darcy shook his head and clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I apologize for steering you wrongly. I would certainly advise—nay, I am advising you, to return to Netherfield and see if you cannot still win her back."
Bingley looked excited, but then his shoulders drooped. "She might no longer love me, not after what I have done—"
"You must go to her and fix it, then."
They ended the conversation, to a commotion. A carriage had ridden up to the estate, one carrying post, and a footman could be seen running a letter down to Elizabeth. Darcy watched her from afar as she reached out for it.
“It's from Jane,” he could hear her say, but her expression was difficult for him to read.
Bingley strode over quickly upon hearing that, but Darcy remained where he was, watching her.
She was so beautiful, everything about her—if he hadn't met her just only yesterday, he would say he wanted to ask for her hand.
But surely, it was too soon, so Darcy's plan was to invite himself along with the Bingleys back to Netherfield, under the guise of seeing the estate he missed last autumn.
Then he could court her properly before asking for her hand in marriage. It would be simple, easy—
Elizabeth's face fell into a deep frown, and Darcy found himself next to her in an instant, though he consciously didn't move toward her—his feet had somehow carried him there without his realizing it.
"Miss Bennet?” he asked, “What ever is the matter?"
Elizabeth turned her glistening eyes upon him, and his heart nearly broke. He stepped forward to comfort her, but she ripped herself away, breaking eye contact.
"I need to speak with my aunt and uncle,” she said brusquely, “and we need to leave, immediately."
It stung, and Darcy didn't know what to make of it.
Further, the words had barely escaped her, almost inaudible with how choked up she was becoming.
She was near crying, and Bingley and Darcy exchanged a confused look before nodding, Bingley moved away, while Darcy remained, standing awkwardly in front of her.
"Miss Bennet—"
"Please, Mr. Darcy, leave me be—"
She walked away, clutching the letters in her hands. Darcy stared after her in disbelief. The Gardiners went to her, and Bingley came back to him.
"What is the matter?" he whispered. Darcy shrugged.
"She will not disclose the bad news to me."
They looked on in some concern as the Gardiners spoke with Elizabeth in hushed voices, and Elizabeth became more and more upset.
"I cannot watch her be so discontent," Darcy finally muttered before stomping toward them. There may be family matters which are upsetting, but these were his guests for the day—the least he could do was offer his help.
"Is there something the matter?" he asked quietly as he approached, but his words stopped short when he heard mention of a name he despised .
"Mr. Wickham?" he repeated sharply, catching their attention. Elizabeth seemed to glare at him as she wiped her eyes and turned away, but the other two looked at him.
"It seems one of my nieces has been carried away in a supposed elopement, by a man of that name, unfortunately," Mr. Gardiner said in a low voice. Darcy's eyes widened.
"Not George Wickham, surely?"
Elizabeth turned on him, eyes wide in confusion for a moment before she looked away again. "Yes, that's him."
Darcy grimaced. "He is not to be trusted."
Mr. Gardiner scoffed. "Well, certainly not! As we can now see—"
"From where did he take her? Hertfordshire? What was he doing there?" Darcy asked quickly, trying to catch Elizabeth's eye. She finally looked up at him as she answered.
"He was in the local militia,” she said with a sigh, “They decamped to Brighton, and my youngest sister was a guest of the colonel's wife.
They—they disappeared in the night some time ago, with Lydia leaving a note saying they are to be married, but it appears they haven't.
Jane said Papa has been in London, gone for days, but cannot seem to locate them—"
"I shall find them,” he said suddenly, “But we must go, now."
How Darcy yearned to comfort Elizabeth, to tell her of what happened to Georgiana a year ago, but alas, he couldn't. He could only stand there, looking like a great fool while Elizabeth's aunt comforted her.
He turned and walked back to Bingley swiftly, ignoring the objections of Mr. Gardiner as he did so.
"What's happened?" Bingley asked, worried.
"A scandal," he answered quietly. "Elizabeth and her family will be traveling home. I need to travel to London on urgent, sudden business. I'm sorry to depart like this, but I have no choice."
Bingley stared but didn't answer, and soon, Darcy was in his chambers readying himself for the multiple days' journey back to London. A knock at the door. He almost barked to go away, but his sister's voice rang through.
"Brother, what's happened? Why did Miss Bennet leave so suddenly?"
Darcy opened his chamber door and pulled her in, shutting it behind her.
"George Wickham. He's eloped with her sister, and the couple has disappeared in London. The Bennets need to find him, and soon."
Georgiana's mouth fell open, and she looked as if she might cry for a moment, but then she straightened up and nodded.
"And you are going to help track them down?" she asked slowly.
“Indeed, I am.”
She gazed at him with a worried smile, before turning to depart.
"Good luck. I hope you find them,” she said, before stepping out. “And after it's all said and done, Brother, I hope you'll marry Miss Bennet."