Chapter 23

The afternoon was already well advanced by the time the carriage arrived at Longbourn. Though the noon meal must have been over long since, Elizabeth could not regret it. Her stomach would not have been able to handle any food at the moment. Though she had not the slightest regret for her actions, the thought of facing Mr Bennet could not be otherwise than daunting. If Elizabeth felt that all her risks had been entirely justified by the need to save Georgiana, she could not dispute that her father would be equally justified in being angry at her. "Please, stop at the gate. I would not have you delay a moment longer than is necessary."

"I shall walk you to the door and explain things to your father," Mr Darcy offered.

"No, please do not. I shall face him on my own." Elizabeth climbed out of the carriage as the coachman opened the door for her. "The greatest service you can do for me now is to save Miss Darcy."

She turned and pleaded with him, and he silently nodded. "Very well." Mr Darcy finally agreed. "May I call on you later?" he asked.

Elizabeth's heart did a flip-flop at his persistent gaze. "Yes," she breathed. She stepped back and away from the carriage and allowed the coachman to close the door. "Godspeed," she said, holding up her hand in a farewell wave.

"Goodbye, Miss Bennet," Mr Darcy replied.

Elizabeth watched the carriage speed down the country lane toward town, fervently hoping that it had not all been for naught. She prayed that Mr Darcy would arrive in time. Elizabeth walked up the path toward the house and saw her father watching from his library window. He looked grim, but soon turned away, no doubt to wait for her to come to him, as she knew she must.

Taking a deep breath, she wondered what chaos the house had been thrown into when her mother and younger sisters had been informed she had run away. To her surprise, her mother simply greeted her with a disinterested glance and asked how her time in Meryton had gone.

Her father met her in the corridor as soon as she had cleared the threshold. "Come and see me, Lizzy," he ordered. She frowned but said not a word to contradict her mother's understanding of the situation.

When the door of the study had been securely closed, she stood in front of her father's chair as he settled himself into it. She clasped her hands before her, waiting for him to speak.

"Well?" Mr Bennet asked. "In your note, you said you would explain yourself. Please do so."

Elizabeth took a steadying breath. "I am sorry, Papa. I know it was wrong to leave without your permission. But I was so afraid for Miss Darcy's safety that I could not do otherwise. As I said in my note, I would never have done anything so rash if it had not been in service to a friend."

"But Miss Darcy cannot stand the sight of you, or so I'm told. Since Mr Wickham arrived, she has not been able to stand the sight of any of us," her father argued. "Tell me, is she still so dear a friend to you that you would risk your reputation and your safety to save her?"

Elizabeth hung her head. Suddenly, her exhaustion was catching up with her. She swayed, and her father motioned that she should sit down on the tattered ottoman in front of him. "She may not think of me as a friend anymore. Mrs Younge has poisoned her against me. But I still see her as a dear friend, yes. Even if she never accepts that friendship again."

He steepled his fingers under his chin and made an indistinct noise. "I see. Well, after what you have done today, I doubt she will be grateful. She seems a rash young woman, if she was even considering what you hinted at in your note."

"No, Papa. I do not think she is rash. She is only misguided by the one person who should have been most concerned about her well-being, second only to her brother. I know now that Mrs Younge has been duplicitous from the beginning, egging Miss Darcy on to her ruin."

"You defend her?"

"I mean no disrespect, Papa. But I have seen who Miss Darcy truly is. She is a lonely young woman who needs loyal friends, not people who will try to use her innocence and naivety against her."

Her father thought for several moments before he spoke again. "You were very brave to do what you did. I would ask you that next time something of this magnitude happens, you will come and talk to me. I should have liked to go with you and help you on your quest."

Elizabeth was shocked beyond belief that her father would have wanted to help her. Perhaps she had judged him too harshly — and perhaps Mr Bennet would not have been quite as ready to believe in the importance of her mission as he was now, knowing the risks she would take to pursue it. In any case, it touched her deeply that he would make the offer.

She gave him a wry smile. "I thought you hated Town."

"I do, most ardently. But I love you more." His eyes clouded with tears that he quickly masked and blinked away. "You are more precious to me than my own comfort, Lizzy dear."

"Thank you, Papa," Elizabeth said quietly.

Shaking off the moment of emotion with relief, Mr Bennet called up a wry smile of his own. "I suppose you think I should not punish you for what you've done?"

"On the contrary. I think you must punish me, Papa."

His brows rose in question. "Indeed? And why is that?"

"I assume you withheld the information from Mama about my true whereabouts. But what of the girls?" Elizabeth asked.

He nodded. "Jane is aware, and I assume Lydia and Kitty are as well, since they seem to always be listening at keyholes."

Elizabeth folded her hands in her lap, taking on a more businesslike tone. "I can assume they do as well. With that being the case, I do not want to send the message to Lydia that it is permitted for her to run off to London whenever she pleases. That would be a grave mistake."

He gave a rueful smile. "Yes, I would have to agree with you on that end. But what shall your punishment be?" he asked. "I trust you, Lizzy. If you say that nothing untoward happened between you and Mr Darcy, then I believe you. You took the utmost care to ensure that your reputation was protected."

"Yes, and Mr Darcy had one of his maids come along with us in the carriage, so there no unpleasant rumours could be started against us," Elizabeth said. She was grateful now that she had not gone to her aunt and uncle's and dragged them into the little drama. The fewer people who knew of Miss Darcy's folly, the better.

"This still begs the question of your punishment, Lizzy. I do not wish to be harsh. Shall I forbid you your books for the next few days?" he asked, teasing her.

"That would not deter Lydia," Elizabeth pointed out. "I suggest you forbid me from attending the next assembly. It will be a minor inconvenience to me. But to Lydia, it would be an awful consequence. That should serve to keep her from running off to London on her own."

Her father chuckled, low and raspy. "Yes, I agree. She would sooner cut off her thumbs than miss such an opportunity to dance and enjoy herself."

Elizabeth nodded. "If anyone asks why I am not in attendance, you can say I have a cold, and the whole situation will blow over in a matter of days." She could only hope it was worth it. Her blood thundered in her ears, wondering and worrying over Miss Darcy. She silently prayed that Mr Darcy had reached the rented house and had stopped his sister before Mr Wickham could steal her away.

Mr Bennet stood, walking over to the ottoman and kissing the top of her head. He pulled her up to stand next to him and squeezed her hands. "I am proud of you, my dear Lizzy. Indeed, I could not be more proud of the young woman you have become. Your conviction and courage is something I hope your younger sisters will see and strive to live up to."

Elizabeth smiled and hugged her father. "Thank you, Papa."

After a few seconds, he released her and nodded toward the door. "Now, get to your room and get to bed. You have a cold, after all." He winked at her and she obliged, closing the door softly behind her as she exited.

As she had expected, her younger sisters had been listening at the door. "What have I told you about listening at the keyholes?" Elizabeth scolded.

"What happened, Lizzy? Was Papa very cross? We could not hear a word." Kitty whispered excitedly. "Did you really run away to London?"

"Yes, to see a friend," Elizabeth said. "And Papa has said I am not to go to the next assembly in consequence."

Lydia's face went ashen white. "No, he has not! How very dreadful for you, Lizzy." She pouted, looking very glad it was her sister and not herself who must suffer such a dreadful fate. "Well, we shall try to bring you back some sweets, if there are any left over."

The two youngest girls walked away down the hall, whispering as they went. Elizabeth shook her head and then met Jane at the bottom of the steps. They linked arms and walked up the steps to their room together. Once in their room, Jane helped her change into a nightgown and she sat on the edge of the bed while Elizabeth told her the details of her adventure.

"I am glad you have returned safe and sound," Jane said when she had finished her tale. "I am sorry that you had to endure Mr Darcy's company on the return trip home, though."

Elizabeth sucked in a breath, looking away for a moment. "Don't say that."

Jane frowned, sitting up straighter. "Why ever not?"

Elizabeth took a moment to collect her thoughts. Her views on Mr Darcy had ranged so widely that she hardly knew how to describe them. There had been the very great interest and respect caused by Georgiana's glowing description, the moments of connection they had shared followed so often by sudden coldness, the horrible confrontation that had shattered everything. For a span of days, she had thought she hated Mr Darcy. But now…

"I have been so wrong about him, Jane. I am certain that the reason he was so cold before was because Mrs Younge had told him any number of falsehoods about me. There were times when I thought I was breaking through his disregard, and then, as soon as we had started to find a firm footing, he would retreat." She picked at the threadbare quilt, which had seen both of them through their infancy, childhood, and now into womanhood. "I saw a different side of him on the return journey, though. I saw the man that Miss Darcy described. I think I have been wrong about him all along."

"You say he was different toward you as well?"

"He was most kind and generous." Her cheeks flamed as she remembered how thoughtful he was to provide her with some books for the trip home. And the way he looked at her…there had seemed to be more than simply respect and gratitude for her actions, more even than friendliness, in his gaze. Elizabeth could almost imagine he was interested in her as a woman. She shook her head slightly. She was getting ahead of herself. Mr Darcy was a wealthy, influential man. He would never be interested in her as anything more than a common acquaintance. Still, she was glad there would not be outright hostility between them anymore. "I am sure, after everything that has transpired here that Mr Darcy will take his sister away from here and never return. I doubt we shall ever see either of them again."

"You seem saddened by that."

Elizabeth sighed. "I am. Before the rift between us, I had started to see Miss Darcy almost as another sister. She is a sweet girl."

Jane brushed Elizabeth's hair away from her face. "You are a treasure, Lizzy. I hope you are wrong that we are not to see them anymore."

She stood up from the edge of the bed and went to the door. "I shall ask Cook to bring you a bowl of broth and some hearty bread, to help your strength return." She gave her a gentle smile, then left her in peace to rest.

Elizabeth sank deeper into the overstuffed feather mattress and warm blankets. While she and Jane had been talking, the rain had begun. She turned onto her side to face the window, watching as dark thunderheads rolled across the distant hills. Rain pelted the windows, and thunder shook the glass panes. She snuggled deeper into the coverlet, her heart still sick with worry over Miss Darcy. Hopefully, Mr Darcy would see fit to send them a note to let them know if she was safe, or if he had been forced to follow them out of Meryton.

She closed her eyes, her exhaustion finally too much for her to fight off anymore. Before Jane could return with her tray, Elizabeth drifted into a sound sleep, dreaming of Mr Darcy's piercing brown eyes.