Chapter 3

3

E lizabeth looked up as Papa entered the room, and she saw the figure of Mr. Darcy behind him. Her heart began to race. After what Mr. Bingley had said, she had thought she would never see him again. But here he was.

He glanced her way briefly, but his expression was set impassively as he sought out Mr. Wickham, and his icy glare would have terrified Elizabeth.

She was very pleased to see Mr. Wickham seemed as afraid as she would have been, had that glare been directed at her.

"Well, Mr. Wickham, and Mrs. Wickham, it appears you are to be spared the indignity of the post-coach. You are fortunate." Papa's tone was wry.

Surely Mr. Darcy would not send them in his coach! That would be tantamount to a reward, wouldn't it? She set herself to listen to Papa.

"Lydia, Mrs. Hill has begun to pack your belongings. You are to go upstairs and be ready in twenty minutes. Anything not packed by then will be left behind. You will not return to Longbourn."

It wasn't just Lydia's eyes that were round with shock. All the sisters and Mama stared at him. But he had not finished. "Elizabeth, you are to go upstairs and supervise Lydia; your task is to ensure that she does not take anything that is not provably hers. I will not have her liberating any of your sisters' belongings."

Elizabeth got to her feet amid the tumult of noise that was Lydia and Mama. As she passed Mr. Darcy, they exchanged a glance, and her heart beat faster. This must be his doing, surely?

"Mr. Wickham, you are to go outside with Mr. Darcy, who will explain to you why you have escorts and then have you listen to their instructions. Then you will have no more than ten minutes to check Mr. Hill has packed all your effects. Within thirty minutes, you will both be gone from this place."

Elizabeth glanced back into the hall from halfway up the stairs. Wickham, pale with anger — or was it fear? was walking outside. His head was held high, but somehow his manner showed he was afraid. Mr. Darcy followed him. In contrast, he was upright, his manner as always; a tall aristocratic man, utterly in charge of everything.

Elizabeth swallowed. Might she get a chance to speak to him after the coach had gone? She turned back and followed Lydia into the guest chamber.

Mr. and Mrs. Hill were there, methodically folding and placing items into the two trunks. Elizabeth slid a glance at the soiled menswear lying scattered over the floor before averting her eyes and shaking her head at Lydia's crumpled gowns and body linen.

"I wouldn't worry too much about the folding, Mrs. Hill. It is obvious that Mrs. Wickham is not concerned about her clothes being crumpled."

Lydia stuck her tongue out at Elizabeth. "The maids will wash and iron everything when we arrive, so I don't need to worry."

"I won't worry at all, Lydia — there probably won't be maids unless you can afford to pay them. Now help Mrs. Hill, or you won't be finished and will have to leave some things behind."

"Well, help me, then!"

"No." Elizabeth crossed her arms. "Papa sent me to make sure you did not take anything that does not belong to you."

Lydia tossed her head and went to the mirror to examine her face. "Hill, I need that jar of salve, too. This mark is not going to go down for days."

"No, miss." Hill was imperturbable and obviously not inclined to give Lydia the distinction of a married woman. "The salve belongs to the household. You will need to buy some at the apothecary next time you stop."

"This is all your fault, Lizzy!" Lydia screamed at her. "How can Papa send me like this? I will look terrible in front of all our new neighbours."

"That might be the least of your worries," Elizabeth muttered under her breath, and then she wished she hadn't as Lydia was revitalised in her invective.

Elizabeth looked at the clock. Seven minutes left." But Lydia was not looking. She was in front of the mirror, carefully pinning her bonnet into place, pinching her cheeks and practising her pout.

Elizabeth caught Mrs. Hill's gaze and shrugged. "Will you be done in time, Mrs. Hill?"

"Yes, Miss Lizzy. The master said I can throw out anything that's left after the trunks have gone down."

Lydia growled, but could obviously not think of anything further that might get her aims.

Then Mr. Wickham came sullenly into the room, glowering at Elizabeth. "Out, miss perfect!" he said contemptuously.

Elizabeth raised one eyebrow, and then looked at the man behind him in the doorway.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Benson?"

The man nodded at her. "Sir William has arranged us constables to escort Mr. and Mrs. Wickham to Newcastle, Miss Elizabeth. I have escorted this man upstairs to see to his packing —and protect the ladies."

"That is good of you," Elizabeth said, watching Lydia who was sorting through the detritus on top of the dresser.

Mr. Darcy was standing impassively to one side of the family as they gathered to bid farewell to Lydia and Mr. Wickham — who was behaving in his usual charming manner to Mama. Elizabeth was glad to see all her sisters were as stony-faced as she knew she was.

Papa was standing with them, but his arms were crossed and his face also unsmiling.

Lydia had not noticed. She was chatting away to Mama about the balls and parties and asking to be sent ribbons and other trifles "… as soon as I have sent you our direction."

Then she was giggling as she turned to her sisters. "And you will be able to write to me as you are not married and will have more time than I will."

Elizabeth turned her back on the thoughtless girl, and was astonished when all her sisters, as one, followed suit. Then they all walked away.

"Jane!" Mama said disbelievingly.

Elizabeth tucked her arm in her sister's. "Be strong, dearest."

And she glanced at Mary and Kitty. "Thank you too, for standing with me."

"I wonder if she will ever learn." Mary said quietly. "But I think you will miss her most, Kitty."

There were tears in Kitty's eyes. "Well, at least I will not have to hide my things any more," she said bravely.

"It will be wonderful." Elizabeth tried to encourage her. "We can all sit around the big table to make over our bonnets without any drama."

"Ooh!" Kitty's eyes were shining. "It sounds as if it will be great fun."

Elizabeth made a vow that she would take more notice of her younger sisters. After all, she supposed it to be partly her fault that Lydia was as she was. And she wondered if Lydia had really not noticed the cut from her sisters.

As they turned into the sitting room, she heard the sound of the chaise leaving the driveway, and saw Mr. Darcy following Papa into his bookroom.