Chapter Ten
Elizabeth Darcy sat in the large study at Pemberley and tried very hard not to cry.
It had been seven days since she had last seen her daughter Bella in the flesh, and with every passing hour she became more certain that something terrible had befallen her.
Her husband had arranged search parties, and they had traced Bella as far as an inn in Ashbourne, but beyond there the trail had run cold.
It seemed that no matter how many men they sent out or how hard her husband searched, they could find no trace of their vulnerable and headstrong eldest daughter.
Elizabeth had not cried since they had first found the note in Bella's bedroom, nor in the days that followed.
She had kept herself busy with the search, repeating over and over that Bella would soon be back in her arms until the words became a mantra, something to keep her upright as the hours and days ticked by.
She had comforted her two younger daughters and tried to remain strong for her husband, even as the strain showed in every line of his face.
She did not think he had slept more than a few hours since the search began, and she knew he would never stop looking for their beloved daughter.
The study where she sat was large and comfortable, the walls panelled with old, well-polished wood.
Her husband's great desk dominated the room, while the smaller one she had commandeered shortly after becoming mistress of Pemberley stood nearby.
They had learnt in the early days of their marriage that being close together, even when occupied by separate tasks, soothed them both, and she would often sit and write letters or see to household matters while he attended to estate business.
The companionable silence bringing them comfort.
When the girls were small, the study had become their sanctuary of an evening, the fire blazing in the large stone fireplace as they curled together on the sofa and spoke of everything and nothing.
Elizabeth had been so tired when the children were tiny that she would often fall asleep with her head on William's shoulder or in his lap, and he would guide her gently upstairs to bed, where he would hold her or make love to her with infinite tenderness.
He had always been her harbour in every storm.
She was no longer certain this was a storm they could weather.
If something had happened to Bella, Elizabeth would never forgive herself, and she knew Fitzwilliam would never forgive himself either.
They had known their daughter chafed against the responsibilities being placed upon her, but neither of them had taken her unhappiness seriously enough.
They had both thought she would eventually fall into line.
What would Elizabeth have done at twenty, with her whole life laid out before her in a way that gave her little to no choice for anything else?
She knew herself too well for that. She would have fought against it with everything she had.
A small comfort was that Bella had been seen travelling with a companion, a young woman acting as her maid. The knowledge that she was not entirely alone provided the smallest flicker of hope in Elizabeth's increasingly desolate heart.
The study door suddenly swung open and struck the wall, rousing her from her thoughts. Fitzwilliam strode in, followed closely by her brother-in-law Charles. Both men looked exhausted. Their clothes were rumpled, their hair disordered and their faces creased with worry.
"Please sit for a moment," Elizabeth said, rising quickly. "I shall have some food brought. Tea and brandy and sandwiches. Just sit, William. Truly, you must. You look as though you may fall down where you stand."
"Elizabeth," he whispered, though her name came out more like a prayer. He did not look at her. "I cannot. I will not."
"Come now, Darcy, old man," said Charles gently, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing him towards a chair. "Ten minutes will make no difference. We have good men continuing the search. You cannot possibly do it all yourself."
"I keep thinking..." Darcy lowered himself heavily into the chair.
His voice sounded hollow, and it cracked as he spoke.
"What if it is like Georgiana? Like Lydia?
What if there is some man who has taken advantage of her good nature, and even now she is scared and alone and has no one to care for her? "
Elizabeth crossed the room and stood behind his chair, resting her cheek against the top of his head and winding her arms around his neck.
"There is no evidence to suggest that, William.
Bella appears to have left entirely of her own accord.
No strange man has been seen on the grounds of Pemberley, she left on Tempest, and the one firm sighting we have places her with a woman.
A maid. There is absolutely no sign that she was travelling with a man, and by every account she was heading south rather than north to Scotland.
" She pressed a kiss into his hair. "Please rest. I am so very worried about you. "
At that moment, Kate and Mina came hurrying into the room. Their eyes were wide and heart breakingly hopeful. "Uncle Charles! Papa!" Mina said brightly, hope flooding her face. "You have found her. You must have found her. That is why you have returned. I told Kate, but she wouldn’t listen."
William closed his eyes and leant back in the chair. Elizabeth kissed the top of his head.
Charles stood and turned towards the girls with a brightness Elizabeth knew he did not feel.
"We have not found her yet, girls, but it is only a matter of time.
Now, I trust you have been keeping your Aunt Jane and your cousins occupied in our absence.
What trouble have you all managed to get into?
Has young Henry been climbing the bookshelves again? "
"But I wanted to speak to Papa," Kate said forlornly.
Charles tightened his arm around her shoulders. "Not now, my dear girl. Let us give your parents a moment of peace." With that, he accompanied them from the study and closed the door gently behind him.
Elizabeth moved around to the front of Darcy's chair and knelt before him, resting her cheek against his thigh as he stroked her hair.
There were no more words to say. They had discussed every possibility and put in place everything they could think of to recover their daughter.
Now all they could do was comfort one another and hope.
They remained like that until a soft knock sounded at the door and Johnson entered, clearing his throat delicately.
Elizabeth rose slowly. She was well past the point of being embarrassed by servants discovering her and William in an embrace.
It had happened far too many times over the years for anyone at Pemberley to be surprised, and in truth this was nothing compared with some of their scandalous antics in their younger days.
"The post has arrived, mistress. Master," Johnson said gently. He carried a silver salver stacked with letters and placed it carefully on the desk.
"Thank you, Johnson," Elizabeth said distractedly.
He bowed and withdrew.
Elizabeth immediately began rifling through the letters, hoping against hope for some message from one of the search parties they had sent out.
She saw nothing that matched any of the handwriting she expected, but then one letter made her pause.
The lopsided scrawl was unmistakable. "William. I believe this is from Lydia."
"Lydia?" He opened his eyes. "When was the last time you heard from Lydia?"
"Two years, perhaps three. Why would she be writing to us now? She has not responded to any correspondence in an age. Though Jane sometimes has better luck." Elizabeth stared at the letter. "Could she have heard what happened to Bella? But if word has reached that far..."
She broke the seal and unfolded the letter quickly, scanning the contents. Then she gave a cry and clapped one hand over her mouth. "She is safe."
Darcy's head snapped towards her.
"Oh God, William, she is safe. Bella is safe. She is with Lydia."
"Safe?" He blinked as though waking from a dream. "Lydia? What do you mean?" He jumped to his feet, every trace of exhaustion suddenly gone, and leant over Elizabeth's shoulder as they read together.
Dear Lizzy,
I am sorry for being such an utterly horrible correspondent.
You know I have never been good at keeping up with my letters, and life here has been busy, although I daresay you do not wish to hear about any of that nonsense at present because you will never guess who is sitting in my parlour as I write this.
I shan’t keep you in suspense for a moment longer. Your beautiful Bella!
Lizzy, she appeared on my doorstep completely unexpectedly. I thought she must have travelled here with you, or her sisters, or perhaps Mr Darcy, but no. She has come all this way without any of you.
Now I can hear your voice in my head, dear sister, and I want you to know that I have scolded her quite thoroughly.
I know you and your husband must be out of your minds with worry, but I promise you that she is well.
She is unharmed and perfectly safe. She travelled with a maid and somehow managed to make it all the way to Falmouth in one piece.
Oh, Lizzy, she is such a beauty, and such a kind girl. She reminds me so much of you and Mr Darcy that it is rather extraordinary. It is as though someone has taken the best pieces of you both and put them together.
I know you will be angry with her, and I know she has done wrong by putting you through such unimaginable worry, but please try not to be too harsh.
She is young, and we have all been young and foolish once upon a time.
I like to think everyone has forgotten my own foolishness by now, but I am sure my reputation as a scandalous girl has survived the passage of time across our circle — certainly in Meryton!
I do not believe one foolish choice ought to shape an entire life however, and truly, Bella is completely well.
Of course, I have told her that she and her maid, a clever little thing named Clara, may stay here as long as they wish, although I know you may prefer to have her home considerably sooner than that.
You are both welcome in my home whenever you please, but if you insist that she return to you at once, I can make the journey north with her.
It would give me a very good excuse to make a long-overdue visit to Papa and Mary, and to Jane and Bingley too.
I still find it hard to visit Longbourn without Kitty.
Isn’t that silly of me after all this time?
I shall end here because I have ever so much to catch up on with your beautiful Bella, and I am sure she will wish to pen her own note to you as well.
Your affectionate sister,
Lydia Bennet
Darcy took the letter from Elizabeth and leant against the edge of his desk as he read it over and over again. Eventually, he placed it carefully on the wood and pulled Elizabeth into his arms.
"She is safe," he said, his voice breaking. "Elizabeth, she is safe."
She looked up at him and saw tears filling his eyes. She had not seen William cry since each of their girls was born, and now those tears were so full of relief that Elizabeth immediately became a watering pot herself.
"Oh, my darling girl," she said, pressing her face against his chest. "She is the silliest creature alive and I shall scold her thoroughly, but not before I have held her and kissed her and told her just how very much we love her."
"Lydia," William said, sounding almost dazed. "Of all people. I never even considered her."
"Nor did I."
"I thought perhaps the Gardiners. Or Longbourn. Even Georgiana." He shook his head slowly. "But Lydia."
Elizabeth gave a watery laugh. "She is the most mysterious and rebellious member of my family as far as the girls are concerned. I suppose it makes a certain sort of sense."
William looked down at her for a long moment, still seeming unable to quite believe the words he had read. "She is safe and well."
"She is, my dear, dear husband."
With that, he caught Elizabeth's face between his hands and kissed her soundly.
He poured all his relief and joy into it, pulling her close as though he needed to feel something solid beneath his hands after days of imagining the worst. Elizabeth wound her arms around his neck and wound her fingers into his hair, holding him just as tightly.
When they finally drew apart, Darcy rested his forehead against hers. "We leave for Cornwall at first light. All of us."
Elizabeth smiled through her tears. "Of course we do."