“MrDarcy, there is something I must tell you. I learned last night when I arrived at my aunt and uncle’s house that my sister Lydia has run off with MrWickham.”
MrDarcy’s face flushed. Elizabeth could sense the anger clearly in his eyes, and she knew that any hope for their future was gone. “Wickham,” said he through clenched teeth. “I thought I had dealt with that blackguard!”
“She left a note saying that they were for Gretna Green to be married, but their coach was seen heading in the direction of London. They are likely somewhere in the city, and we fear that MrWickham has no intention of marrying her.”
She lost her battle. The floodgates opened, and tears leaked from her eyes. “MrDarcy, I…realise that you cannot marry a woman with such lowly connections. I”—the words came out as sobs—“release you from our engagement.”
MrDarcy took both of Elizabeth’s hands. “Please, do not say that, Elizabeth. This changes nothing. I desire to marry you just as much at this moment as I ever have. If there is a scandal, we shall weather it—together.”
Elizabeth looked up at MrDarcy and shuddered, her tears diminishing with the first signs of hope.
“Do you really mean that, MrDarcy?”
“Yes, I do mean it.” He kissed her hand. “But you must call me William.”
Elizabeth clutched Darcy’s hands as if she would never let go.
“But you were so angry a moment ago. I saw it in your eyes.”
“My anger is entirely with Wickham. I could never be angry with you. You have done nothing wrong. Let us continue to St Paul’s. When we have the licence in hand, you may take that as a sign of my steadfastness, for I would never abandon you.”
When they arrived at St Paul’s, Darcy inquired after the bishop. Darcy explained that he wished to purchase a marriage licence. After asking the necessary questions, the bishop led them to another office. “My curate will have the licence drawn up. Once he has done so, you and I may sign it.”
As they approached the curate’s office, they heard raised voices. Darcy froze. Elizabeth asked, “What is the matter?”
“I would know that voice anywhere. It belongs to Wickham,” replied he.
They listened outside the door as Wickham spoke. “I do apologise, my dearest, but you heard the curate. A licence costs twelve pounds. As I told you before we came here, I do not have the funds, but I promise that we may return as soon as I have them.”
They heard another voice, presumably the curate. “You seem rather hesitant for a man who is about to purchase a marriage licence. Is it, in fact, your desire to marry this woman?”
“I…she…”
“Of course, we want to get married!” Elizabeth recognised Lydia’s voice. “Is that not right, Wicky?”
“Of course, my dear.”
Elizabeth whispered to Darcy, “Do you think MrWickham actually intends to marry Lydia?”
Darcy whispered back, “It is unlikely. Did you hear his claim that the licence would cost twelvepounds? The cost of a common licence is only about twelveshillings. I am surprisedthe curate did not correct him in front of your sister. Perhaps the scoundrel has arranged with the curate to feign that the licence costs more than he can afford.”
Elizabeth shook her head, worried for her sister.
“But hemustmarry her! If he does not, my sisters and I shall be ruined,” she whispered.
Darcy kissed her hand and gave her a look that conveyed all of his love and determination. “I shallnotpermit that to happen,” he whispered back and strode into the curate’s office. “Good morning.”
“Darcy…this is… a surprise.”
Darcy addressed the curate. “I apologise for pushing in unannounced. I could not help but overhear MrWickham’s predicament. MrWickham and I have been acquainted for many years. I would be delighted to pay for his licence.”
“Darcy, you…do not…need to do that! I shall have the necessary funds in a few weeks.”
Darcy sounded almost cheerful. “You need not wait. Consider it a wedding gift.”
“There are still a lot of other arrangements that must be made…” Wickham hedged.
“You have brought Miss Lydia to London for the purpose of marrying her. Now you must do so.” Elizabeth could hear the iciness in William’s voice, and she could only imagine the black look that must have accompanied it.
