Chapter 33 #2
When tea was brought in, Elizabeth finally had the time to look at each of them. She would speak privately with every one of them in due course, but first she wished to offer some comfort.
“You know my friend, Mr Darcy.”
Every eye immediately turned towards her.
“He left for London before I did, intending to seek out certain acquaintances of his who may be able to help.”
“Oh,” said Mrs Bennet, pressing a hand to her breast, the only outward sign of her distress. “He wishes to find them?”
“Yes. He possesses some means of doing so, even if he does not know precisely where they have gone. He will certainly speak with Uncle Gardiner and Mr Bingley.”
“That is encouraging news,” said Mrs Phillips, inviting the ladies with a broad gesture to resume their tea, considering that conversation over.
Elizabeth supposed she would later go to her mother’s room and explain everything more fully, though there was little more to tell. Even in that imperfect manner, she had already shared all that she knew.
The ladies spoke warmly of Mr Darcy’s kindness, whilst Elizabeth turned towards Jane, who seemed almost radiant with happiness.
“I am so glad that you are happy despite everything that has happened,” she said.
“And certain of my fiancé,” came Jane’s whispered reply.
Those words could mean only one thing. Mr Bingley was in London, yet Jane felt entirely certain that he would return.
Though they had exchanged no confidence, Jane had lowered her voice and glanced towards Kitty. Unlike her own engagement, Kitty’s marriage, after Lydia’s dreadful adventure, could no longer be considered entirely secure.
Elizabeth wanted to spend time with her family, but looking at Kitty, she was overwhelmed with pity; her sister was pale and much slimmer than she had known her to be, so she rose, speaking with determination.
“I should like to place some flowers upon Papa’s grave. Will you come with me, Kitty?”
Everyone understood her intention.
The two sisters departed beneath the watchful eyes of Mrs Bennet and Mrs Phillips, both of whom had spent the last few days trying, without success, to reassure Kitty.
From the beautiful garden before the house, they gathered a basket filled with flowers of every colour and variety, then set out for the church, which stood only a short distance away.
“How wonderful that Papa is here beside us,” said Elizabeth.
Her voice trembled. During the past months, she had thought of him countless times, but always in the library at Longbourn and never in a churchyard.
“Mama has made nothing but excellent decisions,” said Kitty and Elizabeth immediately put an arm around her sister, sensing how close she was to tears.
“What am I to do if James no longer wishes to marry me?” Kitty asked.
The despair in her voice made Elizabeth hold her even more closely.
“Do you truly fear he may hear the news?”
“Yes,” replied Kitty as they continued hand in hand. “Some of the officers still correspond with people here, and, most certainly, they know what has happened. News may reach Meryton at any moment.”
Elizabeth wished Kitty were merely exaggerating from fear, but she was not. She was right. News from Brighton might arrive at any time, and the consequences could be disastrous.
Once again, Elizabeth felt grateful that they now lived at Netherfield. There, they could close the gates and see no one if they wished. They could come and go without passing through Meryton itself. If it became known that Lydia was in London with Wickham, unmarried, the scandal would be immense.
“But do you truly think James would withdraw in case—?” asked Elizabeth. “The banns have already been read.”
“James will do whatever his father tells him, just as Charlotte did. In their family, children do not decide such matters for themselves.”
That, unfortunately, was true.
Sir William Lucas was the most vigilant guardian of decorum in the whole neighbourhood. One might have thought him entrusted with the defence of some ancient title, when in reality he had merely received a knighthood through the same sort of influence that had elevated countless others.
“There is only a week until the wedding,” murmured Elizabeth.
“More than a week. Nine endless days. Oh! We were finally beginning to feel settled. We were happy about Netherfield and our life here. How could she do such a thing?” cried Kitty in a voice full of anguish. “Did she never think of me? Of you? Of Mama?”
“Lydia never thinks of anyone,” replied Elizabeth sadly.
But as they entered the churchyard, Elizabeth fell silent beneath a grief so sudden and overwhelming that it seemed as though she had only then learned of her father’s death. His name upon the stone gave reality its full measure. Never again would his smile greet her upon returning from a journey.
“If this becomes known, we shall be disgraced,” continued Kitty, forgetting where they were yet looking absently at Elizabeth as she placed the flowers on the grave.
Elizabeth nodded.
“Did Mr Darcy truly go to search for them?”
“Yes, he knows very well that man, and I had some information too. Unfortunately, when I returned from Kent, I never told you how wicked Wickham truly is. Last summer, he very nearly ruined another young lady known to Mr Darcy. If anyone has a chance of finding him, it is Mr Darcy.”
They returned from the churchyard in silence, both burdened by their thoughts.
Kitty’s fear grew with every moment that the news might reach Meryton, whilst Elizabeth remained haunted by the shame that had not left her since Mr Darcy had learned of Lydia’s flight.