Chapter 20

Elizabeth could not sleep that night, no matter what she tried. Rather than wake poor Jane with her pacing back and forth, she lit a candle and went down to the parlour. After stoking the fire, she sat before the hearth in her favourite chair, heartsore and terrified for Georgiana. She stared into the flames, wishing she knew what to do. After the time she had spent with her young friend, she knew she could not just sit back and watch her throw her life away. Shame on Mrs Younge for being so free with her charge's future! What she had to gain from the situation was still not apparent to Elizabeth, but there had to be something she was missing. Indeed, Georgiana might be in even more danger than Elizabeth realised.

Suddenly, Elizabeth stood and walked toward the little writing desk. "I shall write to Mr Darcy!" she said with a decided nod. However, halfway to the desk, she faltered. "No, a letter will not reach him in time," she lamented. She chewed on her fingernail for a few seconds, returning to the chair. "And even if it did, he would not even open it, like as not."

She sank back into the chair and continued to stew. There was no way she could stop Georgiana from leaving. It was apparent that her friend would no longer listen to her. She was struck by Cupid and had eyes only for her beloved. And Mrs Younge had her ears. It was a deadly combination.

Minutes turned to hours. The fire died down, and still Elizabeth did not sleep. Gradually, an idea started to formulate in her mind. It was not one she liked, but might be the only means of stopping her friend from making a ruination of her good name and that of her brother.

She would have to go to London and speak with Mr Darcy herself. It was terrifying to even think of doing something so bold, so rash. Never in her life had she been the one Mr Bennet had to worry about. If she did this, her father would likely lock her in her room until she was five and thirty. Perhaps longer. In her bid to save Georgiana, she might well jeopardise her own chances of getting married and having a family. If only her father would take action himself! But Mr Bennet would never consider such a thing. If she laid the entire problem before him, he would only tell her not to interfere.

Elizabeth stood again and began pacing, alternating between chewing her fingernail and whispering aloud to herself, but not loud enough to wake anyone from their peaceful slumbers.

"It is only three hours to London on the public stage. I have enough money to make the journey, and may go directly to my aunt and uncle's house on Gracechurch Street as soon as I've seen Mr Darcy. No one will suspect that I've been to London by myself, especially if Uncle puts me on the next stage home the following morning," she whispered. Excitement built within her. It could work. If she were careful, if she were clever, she could save Miss Darcy from her folly.

She had Mr Darcy's address in London. Miss Darcy had given it to her so they might exchange letters. That was before she had decided not to join her brother in London. If only she had not gone back on her original plan! Miss Darcy would not have met Mr Wickham and become reacquainted with the scoundrel.

"It is the only way," Elizabeth said after several minutes. After thinking through every variable, she was fairly certain she could make the journey without damaging her reputation. Glancing up at the clock, she realised she only had a few hours in which to lay her plans, pack her small bag, and leave the house before dawn so she could be in time to board the coach for London.

Elizabeth stoked the fire with a small log, which would afford her enough light to write her father a note.

Sitting at the desk, she took a steadying breath and began her missive.

∞∞∞

Dearest Papa,

Forgive me, but I must do what I am about to do to save a friend from utter disaster. I have no choice.

I have gone to London. Please do not worry. I must speak with Mr Darcy on a matter of great urgency — perhaps even life and death — regarding his sister. He must come immediately, that he may prevent her from making a grave mistake. I will visit the baker when I arrive in Meryton before boarding the stage and ask that her husband walk me to the station. No one will suspect I am a woman travelling alone if he is there to see me off. Once I arrive in London, I will go straight to Mr Darcy's home and then will seek refuge with my aunt and uncle.

Please know that I am sorry for having to do this without asking for your consent. Nothing but the most desperate need to save a friend could make me dishonour you in such a way. Please, I beg you not to worry. Uncle will take a care to make sure I am safely aboard the next stage home.

Your loving daughter,

Lizzy

∞∞∞

Elizabeth read and reread the letter. It was a hasty note, but it would have to do. Whatever the consequences were when she arrived home, she would endure with humility and patience. Her mother would be in a tizzy for weeks, and her sisters would likely hound their father to let them go off to visit their aunt and uncle in London until he cursed Elizabeth's name. But she must do it, no matter the consequences. Miss Darcy was too sweet a girl to allow her to step into the trap that Mr Wickham was laying for her. Miss Darcy had been sheltered from the world — as was right — and had not the slightest idea of what she was doing. Mr Wickham was a wolf in sheep's clothing if she had ever seen one. Elizabeth would do whatever she must to keep her young friend safe. If that meant receiving the scolding of a lifetime from her father, then so be it.