Chapter 20
Shaken from his slumber, Darcy squinted at the candle flame flickering above. “What is it, Hobbs?”
“It’s Henderson, sir.”
Darcy groaned at his unintentional error. Another slip like that could be disastrous.
The valet lit a wall sconce, illuminating the room more fully. “An urgent message has come from Longbourn, and a footman is waiting for your reply,” Henderson said, pressing the letter into his hand.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Darcy rose and examined the sealed note, which was addressed in large block letters to MR BINGLEY from BENNET at LONGBOURN. Wondering what could have prompted this missive from Mr Bennet, he broke the seal and read the contents, written in a flowing hand.
Dear Mr Bingley,
I beg your pardon for this breach in propriety, but an urgent matter has arisen at Longbourn, and we are desperate for any help or advice that you and Mr Darcy might be able to offer.
Lydia has run away with Mr Wickham. Kitty confessed her knowledge of the scheme to escape the house when no one was watching and fly to town. With the entire house in an uproar, Mr Collins also learned the unfortunate truth, had a terrible quarrel with my father, and has left Longbourn.
Papa has gone to my Uncle Gardiner’s house on Gracechurch Street to beg him for his assistance in searching for Lydia. He has instructed us to advance the story that he has gone to town on a matter of business and Lydia has accompanied him.
My poor mother is besieged with nervous complaints and has taken to her bed. Jane is holding up as well as can be expected, but I fear that my sisters and I are in grave danger.
My father intends to inquire at the posting stations, but I doubt he has any chance of discovering their location. If you or Mr Darcy have any knowledge of Wickham’s favourite haunts, please advise us at your earliest opportunity.
Hopefully,
EB
Darcy silently cursed Wickham for his effrontery.
Only three months after attempting to secure Georgiana, he had carried off another gentleman’s daughter.
However, he refused to believe that a girl with no fortune had tempted Wickham into matrimony.
The prospect of one thousand pounds at some future date wouldn’t keep him in his preferred lifestyle.
Yet, Darcy couldn’t excuse his own negligence.
He alone had had the power to expose Wickham’s true character, but he had chosen to remain silent rather than risking Georgiana’s reputation.
While he’d succeeded in protecting his sister, Wickham had been allowed to mingle in polite society.
Now another young lady faced ruination, and the entire Bennet family stood to lose their standing in the community.
He had warned Elizabeth, but only in the most obscure terms. He couldn’t have exposed her to the sordid details of Wickham’s past, but he should have fully confided in Mr Bennet.
What’s more, he ought to have advised Sir William and Colonel Forster, who had more influence in the community.
If he had properly exposed Wickham, this never would have happened.
Yet, as Charles Bingley, this would have been impossible, nor could he have asked Charles to speak on his behalf.
For Elizabeth’s sake, he had to do everything in his power to return Lydia to her family. He had succeeded in keeping Georgiana’s youthful indiscretion quiet, and there was no reason in the world he couldn’t do the same for Lydia Bennet.
He rose from his bed and donned Charles’s blue banyan. “Please tell the footman that Darcy and I will see to the matter immediately.” Then hastily added, “Bring hot water for my shave and have Lockhart bring my carriage to the front door in thirty minutes.”
After the valet had gone, he lit the bed candle. “Wickham will ruin us all,” he groused, then crossed the hall to Bingley’s room and knocked on the door. When there was no response, he opened the door and peered into the darkened chamber. “Wake up, Charles!”
“What happened?”
Darcy lit the wall sconces. “Lydia Bennet has run off with George Wickham,” he said, handing the note to Charles, who quickly scanned the message.
“Good God! What are we to do?”
Darcy raked a hand through his dishevelled hair. “We must go to town, find them, and return Lydia to her family. If we don’t, she’ll be ruined, and all her sisters with her.”
“But where could they have gone?”
“The only person foolish enough to take him in is Mrs Younge, my former employee. He has nowhere else to go but to her place,” Darcy said, heading for the door. “I’ve ordered your chaise.”
“Yes, we must go, but what if someone recognises us, like last time?”
“We’ll stay inside the carriage for the duration, and Lockhart can see to the horses at the coaching stations. No one on Edward Street will know us. We’ll make better progress if we go without Hobbs and Henderson. Can you be ready in half an hour?”
Charles checked the Darcy heirloom watch on the nightstand. “Yes. I’ll meet you at half seven,” he said then pulled the bell to summon Hobbs.
George Wickham will be the death of me, Darcy thought, as Bingley’s carriage barrelled down the London Road. How had he not seen this coming?
He ought to have known that Wickham would pull a stunt like this. Wickham and Lydia were probably the only two people in Meryton who hadn’t attended the assembly last night. Now the blackguard had used his charm to captivate another fifteen-year-old girl, right under Darcy’s nose.
Naturally, he would go to any length to protect Georgiana; however, no brotherly affection or otherworldly warning had inspired this call to action.
His thoughts ran in a rather different direction.
He had never loved any woman before but felt the strongest desire to shield this one from every adversity.
But now, constrained by other more pressing goals, the idea of winning that lady’s heart had to be relegated to the back of his mind.
He had to concentrate all of his efforts on finding Wickham.
“I can’t imagine why Collins would quarrel with Mr Bennet,” Charles said, referring to Elizabeth’s note.
“Nor I. One might think he would offer his support to his family, especially as a clergyman.”
“That reminds me – last night, he had the audacity to mention your pending nuptials,” Charles said.
Darcy groaned, scarcely able to believe such impudence.
Charles shook his head in annoyance. “He droned on about Lady Catherine’s desire for a match with your cousin. But don’t worry, I gave him a proper set-down for speaking out of turn.”
“Good Lord. My aunt must have filled his head with nonsense.”
“He’s quite a ridiculous fellow, so I’m glad he’s left the neighbourhood.”
“I hope, for Elizabeth’s sake and her sisters, that no word gets out about Lydia.”
Charles huffed. “Jane must be frantic. I intend to address her after we switch back to our true selves.”
“Well then, you’ll not be surprised when I do the same with Elizabeth,” Darcy said, hoping for a similar happy outcome.
“Nothing would surprise me less. You’ve made your interest in her perfectly obvious since the moment she stepped into the breakfast parlour that morning,” Charles said, then returned to the business at hand. “What’s our plan for confronting Wickham, providing we find him?”
“You must be the main spokesman, of course, but since the Bennets put out the story that she travelled with her father, we should compel her to come away with us. If she refuses, we must convince George to marry her.” In Darcy’s opinion, either of these two solutions would ensure Elizabeth’s happiness.
Bingley hesitated. “Marriage would preserve her reputation, but if he has no fortune, he’ll have no means to keep her. Should we pool our resources and offer to fund a proper dowry for her?”
Knowing Wickham would never marry without financial incentive, Darcy agreed. “I suppose two thousand from each of us, plus Lydia’s own one thousand should suffice.”
“Yes, but she can’t remain unchaperoned with him,” Charles said. “We must remove her to her uncle’s house while the banns are read.”
“Hopefully, she’ll see reason. Besides, they’ll need Mr Bennet’s consent, since she’s underage.”
“I doubt we’ll have any difficulty there,” Charles said in a confident tone. “Since his other daughters are at risk, he has no other choice but to give his consent.”
Yes, in Darcy’s opinion, they had a solid plan.
When they alighted at Edward Street, Darcy flew up the stairs and knocked on the boarding house door. Handing two calling cards to the answering servant, he asked to see the proprietress immediately.
Upon being admitted to the office, he came face-to-face with Mrs Younge for the first time since dismissing her from his service in August.
“What do you want?” she said, glaring in defiance at Charles.
“We’ve come to speak with Mr George Wickham,” Charles said.
“He’s not here,” she said in a hostile tone.
Darcy withdrew a guinea from his waistcoat pocket and held it in the palm of his hand. “It’s a matter of great importance.”
Her eyes grew round at the sight of the gold coin. “I had no room for him here. He’s gone to a lodging house on Surrey Street, number 116.”
Darcy dropped the coin on the desk and bolted out of the house with Charles following behind. After a brief wait for Lockhart to return with the carriage, he gave the new direction and within minutes they arrived at the house on Surrey Street.
There, he offered another coin to the proprietor and was directed to the first room at the top of the stairs.
With Bingley trailing behind him, Darcy flew up the stairs and pounded on the door.
“Calm down, Darcy,” Charles said in an urgent whisper. “Remember, we agreed that I would handle the negotiations.”
When there was no answer, Darcy pounded again, and a bleary-eyed Lydia opened the door, her hair askew and green beribboned gown rumpled. “Mr Bingley?”
Darcy pushed her inside and closed the door while Charles lit the candles on the mantle. Wickham was still asleep, his red coat draped over the back of a chair and his knapsack in the corner.