Chapter VII

D evoid of others though the alley was, Elizabeth did not think it would long remain empty, so she hurried her companion along eager to escape from Mr. Wickham's notice.

"Do you suppose he saw us?" asked Miss de Bourgh as they rushed through the alley.

"I am certain I cannot say," replied Elizabeth, looking about to get her bearings.

Though she did not frequent the alleys of Meryton, she knew the town well enough to guess approximately where this one would lead, and she did not like what little she remembered. Unless she was much mistaken, the alley wound behind several buildings on Meryton's main street and then exited back on the same street some distance down from where they had entered. It might be enough, but Elizabeth did not wish to chance walking right into Mr. Wickham's clutches.

"It appears he did not see us," said Miss de Bourgh, glancing behind them. "If he had, he would be hard on our heels even now."

"Yes, I suppose you must be correct," said Elizabeth, still considering what they might do to avoid Mr. Wickham.

The distance was not great, and as they crossed it in haste, little time elapsed from when they had escaped the carriage. The traffic of the approaching boulevard provoked Elizabeth's caution as she slowed and held out a hand for her companion, motioning her to stop and wait.

"Please remain hidden. I shall go to the street and see if Mr. Wickham is still there. If he is, we may be best to watch him from here, for it is not so far that he would not see us."

Miss de Bourgh nodded her assent, allowing Elizabeth to do as she had suggested. Knowing the man would be more likely to be alerted to any attempt at appearing stealthy, Elizabeth boldly walked out into the street and stopped by a nearby shop, as if looking through the windows at the wares held within. It was well Miss de Bourgh remained in the alley, for Mr. Wickham was still standing beside the carriage, his voice carrying even to Elizabeth's position down the street, for he was yelling, red-faced and furious.

It seemed he blamed the carriage driver for not keeping his victim a prisoner within the vehicle, for he appeared to be demanding where Miss de Bourgh went. To Elizabeth's great relief, the carriage driver did not appear to have witnessed their escape either, for his manner was confused, and not a little sullen. A few moments later, they separated, each walking in the opposite direction down the street, Mr. Wickham walking away from Elizabeth's position while the driver approached her.

Having seen enough, Elizabeth stepped away from the shop and returned to the alley, watching the progress of the driver as he made his way down the street. He did not enter the buildings into which he peered, but it was clear he was attempting to see if Miss de Bourgh had entered one of them, as Mr. Wickham was doing in the opposite direction.

"The driver approaches us," said Elizabeth when she regained the safety of the alley. "They separated and are attempting to locate you in the shops along the street."

Considering this for a long moment, Miss de Bourgh ventured: "Perhaps it would be best to walk north and act as if there is nothing amiss. Surely there would be safety among the denizens of this town."

"Perhaps," said Elizabeth, uncertain of the best course of action. "But I think we should leave that as a last resort. Doing so would provoke gossip; I doubt your lady mother would approve of such open defiance of all that is proper."

"No, I cannot suppose she would," said Miss de Bourgh, though some undefinable tension had taken hold of her.

Elizabeth returned her attention to the street, noting the approach of the carriage driver. The man appeared just as sullen as he had when Mr. Wickham had berated him, and his attention to his business was slipshod at best. Elizabeth waited, knowing they would need to seek refuge down the alley should he come so far, but she did not wish to do so in case Mr. Wickham also discovered the alley and investigated.

"Tell me, Miss Bennet," said Miss de Bourgh, interrupting Elizabeth's observation, "why you would take such trouble as this to assist me."

Curious why she would ask, Elizabeth turned to regard her. "You are an acquaintance, Miss de Bourgh. Is that not reason enough?"

An impatient shake of the woman's head met Elizabeth's comment. "An acquaintance, perhaps, but before today we have not exchanged more than a handful of words. I am aware of what you think of my mother, and suspect you think little better of my cousin, Darcy."

Astonished, Elizabeth regarded her, wondering how she could respond. "I know not what you mean."

This time her companion watched her with annoyance. "My mother, Miss Bennet, has that effect on others, for her character all but guarantees it. As for my cousin, my opinion is less certain. Yet I observed you in company with him and noted your coldness toward him. I have been little in society and cannot know your opinion, but my other cousin has told me that Darcy gives offense more than he ought. I assumed he offended you in some way."

"Even if he has," replied Elizabeth, surprised that Miss de Bourgh had hit so near to the mark, "I would not refuse to give aid when I supposed another required it. Given what Mr. Darcy told me of Mr. Wickham, I could not in good conscience fail to act."

"Altruism, it appears, is not dead," murmured Miss de Bourgh.

Elizabeth turned again from her study of the street. "Do you suspect me of lying?"

"Not at all," replied Miss de Bourgh. She appeared faintly apologetic. "You must understand I am not accustomed to others putting themselves out in such cases as these. Given I already had doubts about the wisdom of my actions, your warning heightened my alarm. I cannot be more grateful to you for your persuasion."

Gratitude Miss de Bourgh professed, but Elizabeth could not hear the timbre of it in her voice. Whether she was simply unaccustomed to speaking to apologize, offer her thanks, or any other customary human emotion Elizabeth could not be certain. With a mother like Lady Catherine who coddled her and allowed her no interaction with anyone she did not choose Elizabeth supposed it was a possibility. It would not do to allow any hint of her thoughts to escape, however, so she chose a simple response.

"You are welcome, Miss de Bourgh. I could not simply leave you to your fate when it may be within my power to assist."

The driver, it appeared, had given up his search, for he was now making his way back to his coach. With any luck, perhaps he would decide discretion was the better part of valor and leave this place. Regardless, the time to chance a retreat was approaching, and Elizabeth meant to take the opportunity when it presented itself.

When she turned and informed her companion of this, Miss de Bourgh nodded. Yet her mind did not appear to be on the situation, for she regarded Elizabeth with an expression she could not interpret but seemed to be odd.

"If you will pardon me, Miss Bennet," said Miss de Bourgh, "as we are partners in crime at the moment, perhaps it would be best to dispense with formality."

"Do you suppose your mother would approve?" asked Elizabeth with some mirth. In truth, she was flattered by Miss de Bourgh's suggestion, as she had not thought her capable of relaxing to that extent.

"When we are once again in my mother's presence," said Miss de Bourgh, her tone approaching wryness, "we may revert to the safer option."

"Then you may call me Elizabeth or Lizzy, as my family does," said Elizabeth. "Thank you, for I dearly love to make new friends."

"Friends?" asked Miss de Bourgh as if testing the word on her tongue to see how it tasted. "Yes, I believe I would like that. I shall adhere to the full form of your name. For myself, I doubt you can shorten ‘Anne' to any degree."

With a grin, Elizabeth nodded. "Then Anne you shall be."

A smile settling on her features and making her appear less severe, Miss de Bourgh became more businesslike. "Shall I take your place at the watch?"

"I think it would be best if you did not," replied Elizabeth. When she turned to look past the building again, she noticed the driver had reached his carriage and was inspecting his horse's hooves. "Let us avoid any possibility of our quarry seeing you."

"Very well. Then what is happening?"

Elizabeth described the scene on the street, though nothing of note was occurring at present. Anne nodded and fell silent, trusting Elizabeth to inform her should anything change. For several moments, nothing did, such that Elizabeth wondered if they might not make a bid for freedom.

"My uncle's home is much closer," said Elizabeth, thinking out loud. "It is unfortunate we cannot go there."

"Why is that option not available to us?"

"The most pertinent reason is that my uncle is not home," replied Elizabeth, pushing the notion away at once. "Mr. Philips takes my aunt to visit his relations in Buckinghamshire for a week or two in the summer—they will not return until next week. Even if they were home, I would not go there unless there was no other choice."

"Oh? I must assume there is some reason for that."

Elizabeth grimaced and shook her head. "My uncle is but one man, and the only other who would be present on such a day as this is his clerk, a scrawny fellow only a little taller than me and all spindly limbs and knobby elbows and knees. I could not guarantee your safety against a determined assault with only my uncle and his clerk protecting us."

Anne's laugh reached Elizabeth's ears. "That is quite droll, Elizabeth. Your uncle is not, then, a gentleman?"

"Uncle Philips is a solicitor who lives in Meryton," replied Elizabeth. "He inherited the business from my grandfather upon his passing, as my Uncle Gardiner had no interest in the law as a profession. Even with all these drawbacks, however, to reach Uncle Philips's house, we would need to walk back toward Mr. Wickham; I have no doubt we would be observed."

There was no reply to Elizabeth's comment, and she turned her attention back to the street. There was still no sign of the libertine, and the driver of the carriage was still engaged in the inspection of his horses. It appeared the time to retreat was at hand.

"Mr. Wickham has yet to appear, so we must take this chance and retreat. If we stay near the buildings, yet do not give the impression of furtive movements, we should have little trouble making the edge of Meryton and the road to Longbourn beyond."

"I agree," said Miss de Bourgh, giving her a decisive nod. "Then let us be off."

Stepping from that alley was terrible to Elizabeth's feelings, for the moment they came into view she expected a hue and cry to rise behind her. Yet nothing reached her ears other than the typical sounds of horses and people common on any day in the town.

"Keep walking and do not look back," instructed Elizabeth to her companion.

Anne nodded, allowing Elizabeth to risk a glance back into the town. Of Mr. Wickham, she could still see no sign, though she thought she saw Lydia in the distance. Recalling her youngest and silliest sister brought a grimace to Elizabeth's lips, for leaving her in Meryton was not what she wished to do. Lydia had come here many times, and could no doubt find her way home, and Elizabeth could not spare the time to think about her now.

Thus, with a resolute step, Elizabeth turned and followed her companion, eager to reach the edge of Meryton and the north country beyond. With any luck, they would escape before Mr. Wickham could take any notice of them.

It was only fifteen minutes before Fitzwilliam came sauntering through the door of Darcy's study, far too soon for his message to have summoned his cousin from his barracks. Grateful though he was for Fitzwilliam's quick attendance, he could not help but wonder how he had come so promptly.

"I met your footman near my father's house as he was passing by," said Fitzwilliam, interpreting Darcy's curiosity correctly. "It seems our meeting was serendipitous, given the long face you are showing me now."

"Aunt Catherine is here," said Darcy without preamble. "She claims Anne left Rosings and has traveled with a man intending to elope."

Fitzwilliam frowned. "Anne, elope? Impossible!"

"That was what I thought," said Darcy.

"Perhaps she finally grew tired of your aunt's authoritative ways," suggested Bingley, who was still in the room.

"I apologize, Bingley," said Fitzwilliam, starting in surprise. "I did not realize you were present."

"That seems to be a common affliction among your family today," quipped Bingley.

Fitzwilliam chortled at Bingley's statement. "I seriously hope you are not painting me with the same brush as my aunt, old man."

"Of course not, Fitzwilliam," said Bingley with a grin. "I merely suggested your reaction to my presence was similar."

"She barged in and blurted it all to me before she realized Bingley was even in the room," supplied Darcy. "Then she dressed him down for ‘eavesdropping' on a private conversation."

"That is our aunt," said Fitzwilliam, shaking his head with disdain. "No doubt she considered our excellent Bingley as part of the furniture."

"I am certain that I am about as much consequence to her!" exclaimed Bingley.

The two men roared with laughter, and Darcy reflected they had always gotten on well together, though they had been little in each other's company.

"Then why are you still here, old man?" asked Fitzwilliam. "Did Lady Catherine demand you stay here to avoid your propensity to spread such stories all over London?"

"You injure me, Fitzwilliam," said Bingley, holding a hand over his heart. "And you mistake me for my sister. The truth is much worse, for I offered my assistance in retrieving your cousin."

"That may become your fatal error, Bingley," said Fitzwilliam.

Though he jested, Darcy could see that Fitzwilliam had already returned to the problem of Anne. What he thought Darcy could not say, for Fitzwilliam was silent for several long moments. At length, he turned to Darcy and sighed.

"You had best summon the old bat—I suppose she is resting in one of your bedchambers?"

"Whether she rests I cannot say, though your suspicion is correct."

Fitzwilliam nodded while Darcy stepped into the hall to see it done.

"Now," said Fitzwilliam, taking charge of the situation, "can I suppose you sent men out to track our runaway?"

"Yes," confirmed Darcy. "I sent some men to check the churches and the roads north, though they are paying the most attention to the Great North Road."

Fitzwilliam nodded. "That is well, though if they find anything, it will only be word of Anne's passing. Now, do you have any notion of the identity of our libertine?"

"None at all. I did not ask Aunt Catherine directly, but I suspect Anne left a letter explaining her intentions. She left no clues as to the identity of her companion."

"Then there are a few possibilities. It is possible that they came to London and did not leave—as you know, Anne does not need to go to Gretna, for she is of age."

"Fitzwilliam!" boomed the voice of their irascible aunt. "It is about time you arrived!"

"My cousin arrived long before I expected him," said Darcy, much to his companions' mirth.

"Be silent, Darcy," snapped Lady Catherine. "We must see to Anne's retrieval."

"We shall be about it at once, Aunt," said Fitzwilliam. "Now, is Darcy correct to assume Anne left you a letter?"

"He is," said the lady.

"Then may I see it?" asked Fitzwilliam. "It may lead to some clue we have not considered."

With a huff, Lady Catherine withdrew a letter from the pocket of her dress, the paper having become creased in its journey from Rosings. Fitzwilliam accepted it and opened the missive, reading through it while Darcy waited for him to give his verdict. When he finished reading, Fitzwilliam shook his head and put it down on the desk.

"Read it, Darcy, for I do not quite know what to make of it."

Darcy obliged, picking up the paper and scanning through it. The letter was brief, no more than a few sentences, and succinct even for so short a letter. In it, Anne declared her intention to leave Rosings to pursue her heart's desire by eloping. Anne also stated her intention to travel north to Scotland. When he read it, Darcy looked up at his cousin.

"That is strange," said Darcy, his eyes dropping to the letters again, reading it over to ensure he was not mistaken. "Why would Anne explicitly suggest she is to go to the north? If her paramour possessed a license, any priest in any parish in the kingdom would suffice."

"I suspect the same reason that led you to send your men to watch the roads to the north," said Fitzwilliam. "The man with whom she intends to elope does not possess the means to purchase a license or did not until Anne joined him. With that avenue denied to him, and as I cannot suppose Anne would endure the sort of lodgings in London necessary to hide them from our investigations, Scotland is his only option, for even if he bribed a priest to perform the ceremony, we could easily challenge its validity without a license or the reading of the banns."

"That was my thought," said Lady Catherine with a tight nod. "I discovered some evidence of their passage as I traveled to London, but I did not investigate closely, preferring to reach you as soon as I could."

"That is understandable, Lady Catherine," said Fitzwilliam with a nod to their aunt. "Something about it bothers me."

Fitzwilliam turned to Darcy and said: "What do you know of Wickham's latest movements?"

"Wickham?" demanded Lady Catherine, her response nearly a shriek. "You suspect that libertine of abducting my daughter?"

"An abduction implies force, Aunt," said Fitzwilliam offhandedly. "There is no evidence that Anne was anything other than willing."

Lady Catherine set her jaw in a moue of displeasure, but she did not gainsay Fitzwilliam's point. Darcy, still shocked at the suddenness with which Wickham's name had arisen, found himself unable to respond.

"Well?" asked Fitzwilliam, turning back to Darcy.

"What can Wickham have to do on the matter?"

Fitzwilliam held up his hand, counting the points on his fingers as he made them. "Anne has run off with an unnamed man, and as she refused to name him, it seems likely she did not because we would recognize the name. Wickham knows her and has long sought to acquire a fortune for himself. I know not how or why, but I suspect he recalled that Anne's inheritance is Rosings itself, which would provide him with a steady stream of funds to fuel his habits."

"Until he bled it dry," snarled Darcy.

"Just so," agreed Fitzwilliam.

"This is all nonsense, Fitzwilliam!" snapped Lady Catherine "Anne would never run off with such a man as my brother's former steward's son!"

"Only yesterday," said Fitzwilliam, "none of us would have thought Anne capable of stirring from Rosings, let alone traveling to London and perhaps beyond. Something tells me that Wickham is involved; call it a premonition if it makes you feel better." Fitzwilliam turned back to Darcy. "Do you know of his recent movements?"

"Meryton, Darcy," said Bingley.

Darcy nodded to Fitzwilliam's interested glance. "Bingley leased an estate in Hertfordshire last autumn. While we were there, Wickham joined the nearby militia regiment."

"Wickham?" snorted Fitzwilliam with contempt. "A soldier? I can think of no profession less likely to suit him than the structured life of a soldier."

"Except for perhaps that of a parson," said Darcy.

His cousin eyed him and nodded. "Then, as I recall, there is another connection here, for is Meryton not the town the delightful Miss Elizabeth Bennet calls home?"

"It is," said Darcy.

"Here, what has Miss Elizabeth Bennet of all people to do with it?" asked Lady Catherine.

"Nothing, so far as I know," replied Fitzwilliam, unruffled by her manner. "It is a matter of interest, for Meryton is where Darcy and Bingley made the Bennets' acquaintance." Fitzwilliam turned to Darcy. "Could it be possible that Wickham recalled Anne's status because of something that happened in Meryton?"

Darcy considered the matter, wondering what he should say. Lady Catherine would no doubt take the merest suggestion of Miss Elizabeth's involvement as proof of her guilt, and while he knew she could do nothing, he did not wish to insert such thoughts into her head. This was doubly important because of how Lady Catherine would react should she learn of Darcy's interest in her, though the only way she would was if Darcy persuaded her to accept his suit.

"I can recall no conversation where Anne or Rosings arose while I was in Hertfordshire," said Darcy carefully. "And certainly not when Wickham was present."

"Of course not," said Fitzwilliam, his manner appearing impatient. "The mere mention of Miss Elizabeth visiting her friend in Kent, along with the knowledge of who else lived there might have prompted him to remember."

"Are you suggesting Miss Elizabeth Bennet set Wickham on my daughter?" screeched Lady Catherine as Darcy had known she would.

"Do not be a simpleton, Aunt!" snapped Fitzwilliam.

While few could speak to her in such a manner and emerge unscathed, Fitzwilliam was among them, for she knew he did not tolerate silliness. A retort seemed poised on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it with difficulty. Fitzwilliam nodded once upon seeing it.

"If you recall," said Fitzwilliam, "Miss Bennet had no acquaintance with you and little knowledge of your situation. If you wish to apportion blame, you may as well direct it at that ridiculous parson of yours, for it was he , unless I miss my guess, that spread the news of his fortunate position far and wide."

"Aye, that he did, as I recall," laughed Bingley. "I only made his acquaintance in passing, but the names ‘Rosings Park' and ‘Lady Catherine de Bourgh' passed his lips several times as I recall."

Fitzwilliam nodded and turned back to their aunt. "I say that only to emphasize there is no blame in this situation, Aunt. Though my instincts tell me it is Wickham, there is no proof that I am correct, and even if I am, let us set the blame on Wickham's shoulders where it belongs."

It was apparent that Lady Catherine did not like it, she subsided with a clipped nod. "Then where does that leave us?"

Before allowing Fitzwilliam to respond, she turned to Darcy and growled: "Again, I will note that had you done as you ought this Mr. Wickham could not charm my daughter into eloping with him."

Darcy opted against responding, much as he had the last time she had made this charge. Fitzwilliam too appeared eager to head off such a line of discussion, for he hastened to answer their aunt's question.

"It leaves us in the same position we occupied before. Anne has left with an unknown companion, which I believe to be George Wickham, and is making for Scotland so she may marry him. Even if it is not Wickham, whoever it is does not possess the means to purchase a license, for if he had, he might have taken her to any priest and had him perform the ceremony. If it is Wickham, he must be seething, knowing the solution is near to hand, but tantalizingly out of reach."

"Excuse me," interjected Bingley, "but could Anne not provide those funds?"

"Anne has no money," stated Lady Catherine.

The cousins frowned at her. "What do you mean, Aunt? Rosings itself belongs to Anne."

Lady Catherine waved him away impatiently. "Of course, it does! Yet Anne has no funds of her own for she does not visit Hunsford or Westerham, and I do not keep such money about the house where she may access it. Have you ever seen Anne enter a shop or make a purchase?"

Darcy exchanged a glance with Fitzwilliam. He had not seen such things, but he had also not thought his aunt denied his cousin the ability to engage in such simple activities as shopping for ribbons in a haberdashery. As Fitzwilliam's gaze seemed to caution Darcy to silence, he made no response to this startling discovery. When they resolved this business, however, he meant to demand answers and knew her assertions had also aroused Fitzwilliam's interest. The earl would learn of it, which would be of immense assistance.

"Then what do we do?" asked Bingley.

"For the moment, we wait for word," replied Fitzwilliam. He turned to Darcy. "Should your men find nothing in London, I suggest they travel the roads north looking for clues of Anne's passing. There should be a trail to follow."

"Would it not be better to set out at once?" asked Lady Catherine.

"At present, Darcy's men know where to find us," disagreed Fitzwilliam. "If we do not receive word soon, then I agree we should depart. For the moment, however, let us wait to see if they find anything."

When Lady Catherine appeared unconvinced, Fitzwilliam placated her. "It is a long way to Scotland, Lady Catherine. The chances of them eluding us when we have several advantages are low. But if we hare off up the Great North Road and they confound us by traveling west to throw off pursuit, we risk giving them an unassailable advantage. An hour or two will make no difference in the end and may lead us to them more quickly."

Lady Catherine accepted this advice with as little grace as Darcy expected. Following Fitzwilliam's suggestion, he spoke to the butler and issued the orders. Then they sat back to wait for word.