Chapter 3

Darcy was exhilarated as he made his way to Lambton the next morning. He could hardly believe how his life had changed in the previous week, and he remarked on it to the empty carriage several times. The last year had been the most difficult of his life. He used to believe the time following his father’s death would always hold that position, but between Georgiana’s affliction and losing the only woman he would likely ever love, he was not sure how he managed to crawl out of bed each morning. Knowing he was to blame for both had been a bitter pill to swallow.

Then, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, Elizabeth had been there, in his gardens. They had talked pleasantly, if somewhat stiltedly, and he had discovered that her aunt and uncle—the very ones he had thought meanly of—were estimable people. Hope had blossomed in his heart, and over the course of the next few days, he had grown increasingly certain his dearest wish was becoming a reality and Elizabeth was falling in love with him. It was like a dream, and just that morning, he had stood in front of the mirror in his dressing room and taken several minutes to convince himself he was not sleeping or mad.

Today, Elizabeth, her relations, and he would spend a short time in Lambton before returning to Pemberley, where they would have a picnic by the lake. They could have simply met at his estate, but he anticipated being with Elizabeth with only the Gardiners as companions for several hours. For whatever reason, Bingley did not appear to see that Darcy wished for more than a friendly connexion to Elizabeth, and he would monopolise her conversation. Miss Bingley and the Hursts would be barely civil. Georgiana was the only person Darcy truly concerned himself with, and she was spending the morning with her companion.

At the inn, he was shown to a parlour whose lone occupant was Elizabeth; the maid said his name and left. Darcy’s initial joy—this would be his opportunity to speak!—turned to fear when he saw tears streaming down Elizabeth’s cheeks. He flew to her side and took the seat next to her.

“Good God, what is the matter?” he cried.

She looked at him, opened her mouth as though to speak, then closed it and her eyes, sending fresh tears down her fair skin. Darcy waited as patiently as he could manage. One of her hands held several sheets of paper, and Darcy took hold of the other. Her fingers clutched his, squeezing tightly. Part of him thought he should fetch her a glass of wine or ask where Mr and Mrs Gardiner were, knowing she might need her family’s assistance, but he did not want to separate from her for even a second while she was so distressed. At length, haltingly, she spoke.

“I have received the most dreadful news.”

She told him that her youngest sister, Miss Lydia, had eloped with Wickham. Until Elizabeth had finished reciting all the news she had received from Miss Bennet, Darcy held his silence, but his mind screamed, Must it always be Wickham?

He swallowed the large lump that had formed in his throat before speaking. “Where are your aunt and uncle?”

“They went for a walk. To the church, if I recollect.”

He supposed they had done so to give him and their niece time alone so that he could propose. Elizabeth dabbed at her cheeks with the handkerchief he gave her.

“I shall send a servant to find them.” He tried to sound reassuring and calm, but his heart and mind were busy devising schemes, asking endless questions, and considering multiple possibilities. Going to the door, he spied a maid and made his request. Before returning to Elizabeth, he poured a glass of wine for her from a decanter on a table by the room’s lone window. For himself, he longed to consume several bottles of strong brandy so that he might forget this horror for a short time. Was it truly less than an hour ago he was thinking that he was living in the most magnificent dream? Resuming his seat beside her, he again took one of her hands in his.

He gathered himself enough to fix his mind on what must be done to prevent the situation from becoming a disaster for the Bennets, if it was not too late already.

“I am very sorry this has happened. Unfortunately, you are correct that Miss Lydia has nothing to tempt him to marry her. He will not have taken her to Scotland. I doubt they have gone farther than London. He has, well, I hesitate to call them friends because I do not believe he knows what friendship means, but I have several ideas for where they might be found. If your sister is not at any of those places, I have people in whose discretion I trust who can help me discover her whereabouts.”

“You would—? Of course you would assist my family in this.” His lovely Elizabeth sniffed and pressed her fingers under her eyes as though to prevent further tears from escaping.

“There is nothing I would not do for you. Have you not yet realised that?”

She managed an understandably weak smile. Her colour was high, and although her anxiety was still evident, he saw a spark of pleasure, perhaps even affection.

“I expect you and the Gardiners will return to Longbourn at once. I shall make arrangements to travel to town as soon as possible. Tomorrow, I hope.”

The Bingleys and Hursts planned to begin the journey to Scarborough in a few days, and they could easily depart sooner or stay at Pemberley, if they liked. He must make arrangements for Georgiana. Even with Mrs Annesley present, he could not leave her alone; some other family member must be with her. He would write to his relations in Warwickshire to ask that his cousin Viscount Bramwell or aunt Lady Romsley come to stay with her. Waiting to hear from them would mean a delay in his departure, but it could not be helped. Fortunately, they were in the north of the county, making the trip between the estates easy.

“As soon as I have arrived in London and begun to make enquiries, I shall call on your uncle. For now, I shall have a quick word with him to assure him of my assistance, then I ought to return to Pemberley to begin my preparations. I promise I shall see you as soon as possible.”

“I understand if…circumstances prevent that.” Both of Elizabeth’s hands enveloped his. Her tone was serious, and she kept a steady gaze on him.

“No!” he interjected. “This changes nothing for me. This is not the time to discuss it, but you know what I mean.”

Elizabeth nodded, but she remained sombre, stoic even. “If the situation with my sister does not improve as I pray it will, if—” Her voice broke, and she took a brief moment to compose herself. “If Lydia is lost for good, I will understand if you cannot?—”

“I will see you soon,” he reiterated and pulled her hand to his mouth to kiss it.

They sat in silence, Darcy attempting to offer comfort and strength without demanding she give him her attention when clearly she was anxious for her family, Miss Lydia especially. Knowing what Wickham was capable of, she was right to worry.

Soon, the Gardiners returned, and while Mrs Gardiner went to Elizabeth, Darcy took Mr Gardiner aside and gave him a quick explanation. He vowed his assistance until the matter was successfully resolved.

Darcy returned to Elizabeth for a final goodbye. What he could do and say were limited with her relations present, but he kissed her hand and whispered once again, “I will see you soon.”