Chapter 2 Flight
Lydia shivered in the cold. Every few minutes, she was obliged to set down the heavy portmanteaux to rest her aching arms. She searched the misty lane. No carriage. Had he forgotten her? She lingered a moment longer, then took up her bags and continued on.
At last, she heard her name called. “Lydia. I thought you had forgotten your beau.”
She dropped her bags. “Wicky! I feared you had gone on without me. My arms are quite worn out.”
He came up to her and stooped to take the bags. “Come along, my dear, or the sun will rise and we shall be seen.”
She moved beside him with quick steps as he strode down the lane. He placed her things in the boot, then assisted her into the carriage. After giving directions to the hired coachman, he joined her.
She caught his hand and laughed. “How delightful this is. I have visited my uncle in London only a few times, but we have never enjoyed any amusement. I long to attend the theater, to view all the sights, and to purchase new gowns.”
He made no reply, but sat in silence, his gaze fixed upon the passing scene beyond the window.
They had traveled for an hour when Lydia placed her hand upon his arm to gain his attention. “When will we stop to eat?”
Frowning, he brushed her hand aside. “We shall eat when I say so. Be quiet and leave me in peace.”
The girl drew back in astonishment. Her handsome swain had never addressed her in such a manner. His expression held such severity that she withdrew into a corner of the carriage and, before long, fell asleep.
The same morning, Elizabeth stood upon the summit of Oakham Mount as dawn broke over the world.
Pink and gold streaked the sky, and she drew her shawl more closely about her shoulders against the chill.
This, in her estimation, was the most beautiful corner of the world.
She filled her lungs with the sweet, fresh air and waited for the sun to rise.
Then she saw movement. The light was faint, and the mist rising from the ground obscured her view, so at first, she was not able to discern who ventured abroad so early.
Then she saw it was a woman dressed in dark clothing.
It was Lydia. Her sister was burdened with a large portmanteau in each hand.
Where was she going at such an hour? Straining her eyes, Elizabeth was able to discern a carriage some distance down the lane, and then she saw him. Mr. Wickham.
Elizabeth gathered up her skirts and ran down Oakham Mount and into the house. A light burned in her father’s study. She rushed in, breathless. “Papa, Lydia is running away with a man. She is walking down the lane with two portmanteaus. And there is a carriage.”
Mr. Bennet had risen when she entered. “Good heavens. Who is the man? Who has she run off with? Come, Lizzy, you will accompany me.”
He hastily wrote a note to his wife.
Mrs. Bennet,
I have received an express from Edward. Madeline is ordered to her bed, or she risks losing her child. Lydia and Elizabeth are to assist the Gardiner family where they may.
I shall return as soon as Gardiner releases me. Have no concern. I will write upon our safe arrival and give an account of Madeline’s condition.
Thomas
He took money from his locked box and went in search of the housekeeper. “Hill, there you are. Ask Mr. Hill to have the carriage brought round. I travel to London.”
The housekeeper hurried away.
Elizabeth joined him in the hall with her breakfast wrapped in a basket. “Wait outside, Lizzy.”
He put on his coat, took up his hat and gloves, and joined her.
“How far had Lydia to go?”
“The carriage stood where the lane meets the road.”
His eyes narrowed. “That crossing lies a mile from Longbourn. Perhaps they do not yet have much of a lead.”
“And Mamma? How are we to prevent her from spreading this news and ruining us all?”
“God forgive me, Lizzy.” He explained the falsehood he wrote for Mrs. Bennet.
Blessed relief surged through her limbs.
“It weighs upon me to practice such deceit. That my youngest daughter should behave in such a manner as to compel this deed is beyond anything I might have imagined.”
Elizabeth laid her hand upon his arm. “If we do not persist in this deception, then we are all ruined. There is no other course.”
The carriage drew up, and Mr. Bennet handed Elizabeth in before giving directions to the coachman.
When he had taken his seat beside her, he said, “Thank goodness for Dawkins. He is the soul of discretion.”
“And Mr. and Mrs. Hill. What should we do without such faithful servants?”
“Quite true, Lizzy.”
They turned into the lane. “Keep watch, Elizabeth. We may soon see the carriage.”
Elizabeth sat in silence, scanning the fields and the road ahead, until she felt the carriage slow and then halt. Mr. Bennet opened the door and stepped down.
“I see a carriage ahead, sir. Shall I urge the horses forward, or keep behind?”
“Follow at a distance, Dawkins. The carriage is too far ahead to overtake, and I do not wish to alarm him. Our only hope now is to recover Lydia when they stop to eat.”
“Very good, sir.”
Elizabeth opened her basket and took out a boiled egg and a slice of buttered toast. “Papa, are you hungry?”
“No, Elizabeth. I have no appetite.”
As Elizabeth nibbled her toast in her father’s carriage, she little suspected that she would not return home for many months to come.
They had traveled for two hours, and Wickham had not halted.
“Elizabeth, this man drives hard to be well clear of Meryton. He does not intend marriage if he carries an underage girl to London. The blackguard.”
“He is a drifter, Papa. I heard Lieutenant Denny was attempting to recruit him into the militia.”
“A drifter? Is that all we know of the man?”
“That is all I know, sir, and I heard it only from Lydia. She was telling Kitty of the handsomest man she had ever met.”
“And now she has gone and ruined herself with a vagabond. That a daughter of mine should fall so low.”
Once they entered the city, Mr. Bennet watched the passing streets and buildings. Then Elizabeth heard him groan.
“He makes for Covent Garden, where every form of vice may be found.”
They continued in silence, both aware of the urgency.