Chapter 3
By the following day, a message had arrived, but it was not from Darcy.
Elizabeth searched in vain for the familiar bold handwriting, full of confidence, with the beautiful E he always formed at the beginning of her name.
The message, written in an unfamiliar hand, only increased her anxiety, and when she opened it, her fear turned to anguish.
It was from Miss Darcy. Never before had Georgiana written to her from Netherfield.
The tone and content of the letter sought to maintain composure, yet beneath its carefully chosen words Elizabeth sensed the same fear that had taken hold of her, for Georgiana was asking about her brother's whereabouts, and her somewhat incoherent letter reflected the distress she was striving to hide.
Dear Miss Elizabeth,
Please forgive my boldness in asking you this question, but do you know where my brother is at this very moment?
I received a message from his valet in London asking whether he had returned to Netherfield.
As you know he has not. Nor have I received any word from him since his departure.
I am leaving for London immediately, accompanied by Mrs Annesley, my companion, as I cannot remain here without news of him.
I do not want to alarm you, but I must confess I am rather worried.
My brother often travels, but never before without letting his valet know where he could be reached.
And now he has been missing for two nights.
Unfortunately, our cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, is not in London, but I have also sent him a message asking the same question.
I tend to worry too quickly, and I hope I have no reason to do so now.
Please let me know if you have any news of him.
I shall be at our house in London. Please, Miss Elizabeth, if you decide to travel to London, come and see me at any hour, day or night.
You will find our address at the end of this letter.
Elizabeth’s thoughts raced. Utterly devoted to his sister, Darcy was more a father than a brother, a devoted father who supervised her education and watched over her with constant care. He would never simply disappear and leave her to worry.
It was more than Elizabeth could bear. She ran to her father with Georgiana’s letter, impatiently waiting for Mr Bennet to finish reading it.
Mr Bennet remained silent for some time.
With all his heart, he regretted his recent remarks about his daughters not yet being married.
Sometimes life seemed to turn one’s own thoughts into reality, as though fate itself drew inspiration from them.
It was not the first time such a coincidence had occurred.
He wanted to reassure Elizabeth, but his voice trembled.
“You want to do more than simply answer her letter,” he said, looking at her with an attentive and affectionate gaze. “You want to go to London.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth admitted. Dark circles beneath her eyes showed she had slept little, but it was the anxiety written across her face that alarmed him most. “Only two days ago, I was with Miss Darcy, and such a special bond has already grown between us. She has never had a sister, and the thought of having one delighted her. If she is worried, Papa, then something must be wrong.”
“I suppose you want your old father to accompany you to London,” he continued in a gently teasing tone. Everyone knew how much he disliked leaving Longbourn, although Elizabeth knew equally well that he would do anything for her.
“Yes, Papa. Could we please leave as soon as possible?” she pleaded. Then she added more hesitantly, “And let us not tell Mama too much.”
“Lizzy,” he replied, trying to keep his voice warm and reassuring.
“There is nothing yet to justify such fears. We have no direct news, only a letter from an impressionable young lady who may simply have misunderstood her brother’s plans.
Still, I agree that we should go, if only to set your mind at ease.
Perhaps Mr Darcy has attended a party that lasted longer than expected.
There is nothing unusual in young gentlemen spending one last evening with their friends before they marry. ”
Yet Mr Bennet was not telling her the whole truth.
More than once, such parties had ended badly, persuading a prospective bridegroom that the time for marriage had not yet come.
Some young men were deeply attached to the freedom of bachelorhood and, in the final days before the wedding, decided they wished to enjoy it a little longer.
It had never been Mr Bennet’s way of thinking, and he found it difficult to understand such behaviour, but it happened often enough.
From time to time, men postponed marriage to some indefinite point in the future.
Darcy seemed different, yet no one could know what a night spent with party friends might bring.
He wanted to comfort Elizabeth. After all, only two days had passed without news, and there was no point in burdening her with his own fears.
Elizabeth met Mr Bingley that afternoon, and once again had the uneasy feeling that something terrible had happened. Her betrothed’s closest friend was in a state of unusual restlessness, and everyone around him could sense his anxiety.
“I am sure it is nothing. Perhaps he had some urgent business to attend to,” he said, looking first at Elizabeth and then at Jane. Yet his reassuring words sounded more like an attempt to convince himself than anyone else.
“I shall leave tomorrow with Papa,” Elizabeth said.
“And I shall remain here in case a message arrives. My cousin, young Acton, is ready to ride to London at once with any news. And please, Miss Elizabeth, if you need me, send only one word, and I shall come.”
∞∞∞
They left the following morning amidst an uproar.
Mrs Bennet, who possessed a natural talent for upsetting everyone with her nervous disposition, could throw the whole household into confusion within moments.
It was even worse this time, as she could not understand why her husband and daughter were leaving for London in such haste.
She was certain something had happened, and as neither of them would tell her anything, her own restless anxiety burst forth with renewed force.
She rushed from room to room, trying to oversee the household, giving orders only to contradict them a moment later, sending the servants in different directions and hurrying about without purpose.
“You are not telling me the truth. Why are you going to London in such haste? Is it because of Mr Darcy? Please tell me if something has happened. I need to know. Why am I always the last to find out what is going on?” she continued with the familiar lamentations everyone knew so well.
At least, she thought as she helped Elizabeth pack, Jane is nearby with Mr Bingley.
Mrs Bennet had seen them together, as much in love as ever.
There were certainly no problems between those two lovebirds.
Bingley was an honourable man, perhaps a little too easily influenced, but never where Jane was concerned.
She had liked him long before the engagement and was certain that, should they ever need help, it would come from the Bingleys.
She had to admit, though only to herself, that she had never entirely trusted Mr Darcy when he proposed to Elizabeth.
Enchanted though she was by his wealth, she still considered him a proud and disagreeable man, and sometimes wondered how Elizabeth could marry him.
Nevertheless, she approved of a marriage that would make her daughter a rich woman.
Mrs Bennet was delighted at the thought of Elizabeth becoming the mistress of an estate such as Pemberley and hoped that, in time, she would overcome her feelings towards its master, if only for the pleasure of being received at Pemberley as the mother-in-law of its master.
Strangely, amidst all the cries and confusion, Elizabeth recovered her composure. Once they were on the road, she had time to reflect, searching for some hidden meaning in the last moments they spent together. But all her efforts were in vain.
“Do you think he is afraid of our marriage?” Elizabeth asked her father, her anxiety plain in her voice.
“No,” Mr Bennet replied, though his answer lacked conviction.
The uncertainty in his voice plunged Elizabeth into even deeper fear.
Moreover, his readiness to accompany her to London seemed another sign that something was wrong, though she could no longer see clearly what it might be.
Only a day earlier, she had been so certain of her love, her future, and her happiness. Now…
Her father took both her hands and made her look him in the eye.
“Listen, my dearest, the worst thing we can do now is lose our heads and allow fear to overcome us. I am sure nothing truly dreadful has happened. At worst, the two of you may quarrel because he failed to let you know where he was. But remember, it has been only three days since he left. The delay may be nothing more than the messenger’s fault. ”
Elizabeth remained silent. After a while, her father fell asleep, gently snoring, and that familiar little sound comforted her more than his words had done. She was no longer frantic, only deeply worried.
Will my married life be like this? she wondered. Will Darcy always do as he pleases without involving me in his decisions?
The weeks since his proposal had been magical. It had seemed that Darcy was ready to have her as a friend and companion, not merely an obedient wife, as women were expected to be. Perhaps she had been mistaken and was only now discovering his true nature.
Her heart ached as never before. She had fallen from perfect happiness into a dreadful state, imagining a future she no longer wished for.
As they drew nearer to London, another thought swept over her with the force of a storm.
What if my poor Darcy had had an accident and is lying wounded in some dark alley? What if he had been attacked on his way home late at night? What if he had been stabbed and lies hidden somewhere no one has thought to look?
Elizabeth felt the air leave her lungs until she could scarcely breathe. It was a long time before the tightness in her chest eased, but sleep remained beyond her. Her mind conjured one dreadful image after another until they reached London.