Chapter 38

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

L ongbourn was not at all the asylum Elizabeth had expected. For one thing, as she entered the drawing room with Darcy and Georgiana trailing, it was occupied already—by Jane and Mr Bingley, with Kitty a gloomy-looking chaperon.

“Lizzy!” Jane flew into her arms in undisguised joy. “Oh, Lizzy, I am so glad to see you.” Her eyes widened at the sight of her companions. “Why! Mr Darcy!”

Mr Bingley jumped up to greet them. “Oh-ho Darcy, what is this? Greetings, my friend! I have not seen you in an age. And Miss Darcy! I swear, you are an inch taller every time I see you!”

He spoke to Georgiana, Elizabeth noticed, as if she were still in the nursery. So much for Miss Bingley’s assurances of a forthcoming marriage between them.

Darcy shook Mr Bingley’s hand, and Elizabeth almost smiled at how quickly he brought up their engagement. “Miss Elizabeth has agreed to marry me,” he said. “She has been staying with her relations in town, but I brought her home just as soon as—” He halted mid-sentence, as if suddenly unsure what his friend knew of the situation.

“About Miss Lydia, yes,” Mr Bingley said, abruptly sobering. “So very unfortunate.” He shook his head sadly, but quickly brightened. “But this is much more welcome news. I congratulate you! I am so happy for you both!” He shook all their hands, repeating his congratulations, while Jane stood quietly looking in perplexity from Elizabeth to Darcy, and Kitty watched in equal bewilderment.

Elizabeth smiled at them all. “Georgiana, I would like to introduce my sisters. Jane, Kitty, this is Miss Darcy, who will be my new sister soon.”

“But…but I thought we hated Mr Darcy!” Kitty blurted.

“All is to be forgot. It was just a dreadful misunderstanding,” Elizabeth said forcefully, hoping they would hold their questions. “Mr Darcy will talk to Papa and explain, but nobody hates anyone, and we will be marrying. Soon, I hope.”

“As soon as the banns can be called,” Darcy agreed.

Mr Bingley looked puzzled at this interchange, but never one to be over-curious about details, and visibly gladdened by the news of his friend’s connexion to a family he was well on his way to making his own, he asked no potentially mortifying questions. Elizabeth and Darcy were soon seated on one settee, Jane and Mr Bingley on the other, while Kitty and Georgiana had taken the chairs nearest the fire. They appeared to be having a slightly stilted but not unfriendly conversation.

“Is there any more news?” Elizabeth asked, as soon as everyone was resettled. “About Lydia, I mean. ”

“Nothing good,” Jane sighed, her expression turning bleak. “One of the men was found in-in a gambling establishment in town. He was alone, and knew nothing of any elopement. The other two have not yet been traced, but they are now checking passenger lists at the port for likely possibilities.”

“Has no one checked the routes to Scotland?” Darcy asked. “Is your father gone to do it himself?”

Jane flushed, but tried to explain. “All signs of the men led south. No one believes Scotland to be their destination. The entire company has been interviewed, and everyone agrees that an actual marriage is unlikely in either case. Papa is going to Uncle Gardiner—soon, he said, to search in town.”

No, a capture would have been unlikely , Elizabeth realised. Nevertheless, Darcy would have left no stone unturned, while Papa has almost given up. At that moment, Darcy gave her a quiet smile and reached for her hand; he had removed his gloves upon entering the manor, as had she—so now she could feel, skin to skin, his strength and warmth. It helped.

“How does Mama fare?” Elizabeth asked Jane.

Jane sighed, glancing once at the solemn Darcy, obviously still bemused. “She is better, these last two days, than at first.” Her eyes flickered to Mr Bingley, and Elizabeth understood that it was his presence that had somewhat calmed their mother. “She is still very worried, and very sad, of course. Mary is upstairs with her now. She has been a great help.”

“Mary is here?” Elizabeth asked, surprised. “With her husband?”

“Yes. He has walked to the village to watch the choir practise, but he should be back soon. ”

“Somehow, I did not think Mr Collins would offer to be…helpful at a time such as this.”

“Oh, well, he had a lot to say at first,” Kitty suddenly interjected. “But Mary makes him discuss Bible verses about loving his neighbour and being an example of the believers every time he says something hateful. I do not know whether he has learnt not to say stupid things about Lydia, or whether he is tired of hearing Scripture, but he is much quieter about it all now.”

Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s hand, just as she glanced at him—half-expecting censure.

“It can take some time for men to learn not to say stupid things. Perhaps I should speak to your father soon?” he asked under his breath. That was when Elizabeth realised he was not thinking about Lydia much at all, but of their own future. She did not want to leave her sisters, no matter how distressing the subject under discussion. But it was time to face her father.

Mr Bennet glanced up at the intrusion into his book room, with an expression of irritation. “I asked not to be disturbed—what? Elizabeth!” He quickly stood, and she ran to him.

For a few precious moments, she basked in his comforting embrace. “I have missed you, Papa,” she said earnestly.

“The house has been excessively absent of sense since you departed,” he grumbled. But then shaking his head, he let out a gusty sigh. “Perhaps it is one of the reasons why Lydia left. She has always known how to step on my last nerve, but since you moved to town, my patience for her nonsense has been lacking. I fear I was too stern.”

If you were, Papa, it was too little, too late. But what good does placing blame do now? “Oh, Papa,” Elizabeth said sympathetically. “Lydia has always been who she is, and I do not believe a few lectures would have changed it. Will you go to town?”

“Yes, I know I must, and I shall. Colonel Forster was so absolutely convinced he could trace the miscreants with all the resources available to him that I delayed! But he has been unsuccessful in finding anyone who has your sister. Perhaps your uncle will have ideas that he does not.” He looked so miserable, Elizabeth’s heart broke for him.

“Papa, I must tell you—Mr Darcy has come back.”

He frowned ferociously, but she quickly explained what had kept him. “I must have your word that you will not tell anyone about Miss Darcy’s unhappy experience. Mr Darcy would not consider inventing a weaker excuse to explain to you his absence, for nothing else accounts for his cousin’s erratic and unconscionable behaviour. But he has vowed to help us discover Lydia. If anyone can, it is he.”

“It is a regular epidemic of elopements!” Mr Bennet cried, astonished. “What is in the novels you females read these days?”

“I do not think Lydia has read much of anything,” Elizabeth replied forlornly.

“What of the nasty things his cousin said of you? Lizzy, are you certain you are making the correct decision?”

“Mr Darcy is very angry with Colonel Fitzwilliam. He had instructed him to explain to me Miss Darcy’s situation before we went to the church for the wedding. Unfortunately, the colonel was so mortified by Miss Darcy’s elopement, and not knowing us at all—well, he chose to flee instead. I do not know if he and Mr Darcy will ever reconcile.”

Mr Bennet frowned his incomprehension, but then his shoulders slumped. “It was wrong, very wrong. But I suppose…had there been any way to prevent Lydia’s shame from becoming public, I would have wanted to take it. I do not think I would go so far as to leave a bride standing at the altar, and his spiteful words to Goulding—meant, I suppose, to cover his motives—were ungentlemanly in the extreme. He could, simply, have sent a message over to us without explanation, and at least saved one humiliation. Yet, we all make idiotic decisions in moments of distress. Here I have been stewing over Forster’s ineptness without leaving for town to search for Lydia myself. I ought to have gone at once,” he admitted glumly. “I hope to never meet Colonel Fitzwilliam again, but I suppose I understand him.”

It was a convoluted reasoning, but Elizabeth could see his point. No one behaved perfectly in every situation; Darcy, attending a long-ago assembly where he had not wished to be, had once spoken thoughtlessly, and but for an accidental eavesdropping on the Bingley sisters in Netherfield’s library, his carelessly spoken words might have continued to influence her initial poor opinion of him.

“You are kinder than I,” Elizabeth said. “The colonel’s selfish sacrifice of my feelings in defence of his own is a breach of honour, in my opinion. I do not intend to waste any great sentiment upon him, however. Mr Darcy may forgive him, or he may not. As for myself, I shall be polite and respectful, nothing less, and nothing more.”

One corner of her father’s mouth tipped up. “We shall see how that goes for him.” But then his expression flattened again. “He wrote to you. Mr Darcy, that is. Thrice. I did not give you his letters, but returned them to him unopened. I thought you had been hurt enough, and I feared those letters were full of self-justification. I apologise for adding to your injury.”

Elizabeth nodded. It was in the past, and he had meant well. “At least you did return them, so that Mr Darcy knew I had not received them. He was very determined that I should.”

“You are entirely resolved to have him, Lizzy? Mr Bingley is back, and it seems he will stand by Jane. Even your ridiculous cousin Collins means well, and tells me we shall ‘present a united front of family honour’. Mary might make something of him yet—I have underestimated her, it seems. What I am trying to say is, if you are marrying Mr Darcy to cover your youngest sister’s sins, it is unnecessary.”

“I love him, Papa,” was her simple reply.

He examined her expression for some moments. “Well then,” he said at last. “Send him to me, and go and share with your mother the good news. It might be restorative enough to help her to leave her bed at last.”