Chapter XIII #2
Whether Georgiana understood what he did not say, Darcy did not know—she nodded and turned her attention back to the matter at hand.
“It is unfortunate that she must go south, though I suppose they were to depart tomorrow anyway. I wished to come to know her better.”
“If that is what you want, I can oblige. Bingley will take his family to the north, then depart for Netherfield Park, his leased estate that borders Longbourn, the estate of Miss Bennet’s father.
Though I must depart with all speed for the south, you may follow in a few days.
When I conclude this business in London, I shall go to Hertfordshire.
If you arrive earlier, you may join me in London. ”
“Oh, I should like that very much,” replied Georgiana as Darcy had known she would.
“Then it is settled,” replied Darcy, rising to his feet. “Discuss your plans with Mrs. Annesley and Snell, as he will remain at Pemberley. When you decide, send word on ahead to me. Should I go to Hertfordshire early, I shall send word to you.”
Georgiana rose with him and embraced him. “Thank you, Brother. Travel safely and deal with Mr. Wickham once and for all. When I join you, I shall anticipate hearing of his downfall.”
After returning her embrace, Darcy released her and gave her a smile.
She was now sixteen, would be seventeen late next spring.
Darcy was not looking forward to the next years, when she would come out, find a husband, and leave his home.
For many years, it had been Darcy and his sister, the only members of the immediate family, and Darcy was not eager to lose that closeness.
Of course, bringing Miss Elizabeth home as his bride, knowing the joy she would bring to his home, would turn his thoughts in other directions.
Miss Elizabeth would be an excellent mentor for his sister, and she would fill a place in his life that was currently empty, but she would not replace Georgiana. No one could replace his dear sister.
“When next we meet, I shall take great pleasure in telling you about Wickham’s fate—then again, Fitzwilliam might get to it first.”
Georgiana laughed with delight. “Yes, that is a facet of Anthony’s character to be certain.”
“Very well,” said Darcy. “I must be away at once.”
After one last embrace, Darcy entered the carriage and gave the order, and soon the driver set the team into motion.
As they pulled away from the house, Darcy looked back at his sister, waving to her, knowing they would be reunited soon.
He also caught sight of a shadow in an upstairs window, and though it was indistinct, Darcy knew that Miss Bingley watched him depart.
It was not difficult to imagine her anger at his departure and the destruction of her hopes.
But Darcy was not concerned with Miss Bingley’s offense—the woman would overcome her disappointment, and when she did, she would turn her attention to some other gentleman of consequence she thought she could persuade.
As she was not his concern, Darcy turned his attention back to what he was doing.
The moment the carriage reached the road, the driver urged the team forward, and the carriage gathered speed.
At this pace, they would arrive in Lambton quickly.
Then the journey to London. Darcy did not appreciate extensive travel, but now he felt a different anticipation altogether, the sort that would end with a worthless man finally paying the price for years of wrongdoing.
THE GARDINER PARTY was prepared to depart long before Mr. Darcy returned from Pemberley. Though Elizabeth chafed at the delay, a strange impatience had settled over her since Mr. Darcy’s departure. She knew there was no alternative and did her best to remain calm.
Though Elizabeth and her aunt handled the preparation of their personal effects, Mr. Gardiner was not idle.
When Mr. Darcy departed, he descended to speak to the innkeeper, then had a word with his driver, instructing him to make for Longbourn where he would receive further instructions.
When this was complete, he returned to their rooms to find the ladies ready to depart.
“When do you suppose Mr. Darcy will return?” asked Elizabeth.
“At least another thirty minutes,” replied Mr. Gardiner. “The innkeeper will dispatch a man to carry our effects downstairs shortly. By the time he arrives, we will be waiting for him.”
Elizabeth nodded, but her mind was not on the impending journey.
Instead, she was considering Mr. Darcy, the changes in her perspective, the almost incomprehensible fact that she had accepted a proposal from him.
It was beyond anything Elizabeth could have imagined only a month earlier, yet now she was betrothed to him, pending her father’s approval, of course.
Then again, Elizabeth was already one and twenty and knew she possessed the ability to marry him without her father’s approval.
For the first time, Elizabeth imagined what her family’s response would be.
Her sisters would be shocked, though Jane had always thought better of Mr. Darcy than the rest. Mrs. Bennet would be struck speechless until her natural excitability made her behavior mortifying.
As for Mr. Bennet, he would think she had taken leave of her senses, though she thought she could persuade him with the truth.
The truth of Mr. Darcy’s conduct during Lydia’s crisis would also weigh heavily with him.
What she could not quite discover were her own feelings on the matter.
That was something she knew she would ponder for many days to come.
The most curious part of it was her pact with Jane to marry for only the deepest love—Elizabeth’s feelings were a jumble of confused and conflicting thoughts, but somehow, she did not feel as if she were breaking that agreement.
The footman arrived and transported their luggage to the entrance, and they took up station outside, standing in the shade as the bright sun warmed the uneven cobbles beneath their feet.
Elizabeth stood alone while her aunt and uncle spoke in quiet tones, pushing her thoughts away by gazing about at the little town, fixing it in her memory until the next time she saw it.
When the carriage arrived, Mr. Darcy stepped down and started giving orders.
The driver, with the assistance of the inn’s stable hands, soon unhitched Mr. Darcy’s horses and replaced them with post horses, while the footmen—including one burly man who looked more like a pugilist than a gentleman’s servant—loaded the Gardiners’ bags onto the roof.
When this was underway, only then did Mr. Darcy turn to greet them.
“Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Miss Bennet. We will be ready to depart in only a few minutes.”
“Thank you again for your assistance, Darcy,” said Mr. Gardiner. “I must wonder if you know what you are taking on, but I am grateful for it, nonetheless.”
“With Wickham, one never knows,” said Mr. Darcy, though his eyes were on Elizabeth. “Much will depend on what we find in London.”
The moment the driver pronounced the carriage ready, Mr. Darcy motioned for them to enter.
He spoke to a footman who would ride on to the next stop to ensure post horses were ready for their use, then entered behind them, closing the door, seating himself beside Mr. Gardiner in the forward-facing seats.
Then the carriage lurched, and set out through the winding streets of Lambton, gaining speed once they reached the countryside beyond.
“Now that we have time,” said Mr. Gardiner, “I am curious about how you mean to go about discovering them.”
Mr. Darcy did not hesitate. “There is a woman who was once in my employ who owns a house in London—after she left my service, I discovered a connection between her and Wickham. If he needs help—and Wickham almost always requires some form of assistance—he will go to her.”
“Do you suppose he will be there?” asked Mrs. Gardiner.
The carriage jolted on a stone then settled into the familiar rumble again. “That I cannot predict,” said Mr. Darcy. “Even if he is not there, I expect she will know where we can find him.”
“It will not be a reputable part of town,” observed Mr. Gardiner.
“No, it will not. When we arrive tomorrow, I shall send word to my cousin, who is a colonel in the regulars. With his assistance, we should have every advantage once Wickham is found.”
Mr. Gardiner frowned. “Is that at all wise?”
“I trust my cousin implicitly, Mr. Gardiner,” replied Mr. Darcy. “Fitzwilliam has despised Wickham for years, and has urged me to do something about him. When I tell him that I mean to act against Wickham, he will not hesitate to offer his support.”
“There is one other point to consider,” said Elizabeth. “Mr. Wickham was in the militia—from everything I know, he deserted his position.”
“Just so,” said Mr. Darcy, appearing pleased at her understanding of the situation. “The army is not the militia, but as a colonel, Fitzwilliam can ensure Wickham’s desertion is properly addressed.”
Mr. Gardiner peered at him. “Then you do not mean to ensure they marry.”
Mr. Darcy hesitated, and Elizabeth thought she understood why. “I believe, Uncle, that Mr. Darcy does not wish to usurp Papa’s authority.”
“Thank you, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy with a grateful nod. “There is more, but that is the essence of it.”
“Then what is your opinion?” asked Uncle Gardiner.
Mr. Darcy turned to look out the window, the trees passing at a pace far beyond Elizabeth’s usual experience in a carriage.
Outside, she could hear the driver urging the horses on and saw the clouds of dust raised by their passage.
It was a long road to London, but it appeared that Mr. Darcy’s assertion of making the journey in two days was not boasting.