I shall return as soon as Gardiner releases me. Have no concern. I will write upon our safe arrival and give an account of Madeline’s condition.
Thomas
He took money from his locked box and went in search of the housekeeper. “Hill, there you are. Ask Mr. Hill to have the carriage brought round. I travel to London.”
The housekeeper hurried away.
Elizabeth joined him in the hall with her breakfast wrapped in a basket. “Wait outside, Lizzy.”
He put on his coat, took up his hat and gloves, and joined her.
“How far had Lydia to go?”
“The carriage stood where the lane meets the road.”
His eyes narrowed. “That crossing lies a mile from Longbourn. Perhaps they do not yet have much of a lead.”
“And Mamma? How are we to prevent her from spreading this news and ruining us all?”
“God forgive me, Lizzy.” He explained the falsehood he wrote for Mrs. Bennet.
Blessed relief surged through her limbs.
“It weighs upon me to practice such deceit. That my youngest daughter should behave in such a manner as to compel this deed is beyond anything I might have imagined.”
Elizabeth laid her hand upon his arm. “If we do not persist in this deception, then we are all ruined. There is no other course.”
The carriage drew up, and Mr. Bennet handed Elizabeth in before giving directions to the coachman.
When he had taken his seat beside her, he said, “Thank goodness for Dawkins. He is the soul of discretion.”
“And Mr. and Mrs. Hill. What should we do without such faithful servants?”
“Quite true, Lizzy.”
They turned into the lane. “Keep watch, Elizabeth. We may soon see the carriage.”
Elizabeth sat in silence, scanning the fields and the road ahead, until she felt the carriage slow and then halt. Mr. Bennet opened the door and stepped down.
“I see a carriage ahead, sir. Shall I urge the horses forward, or keep behind?”
“Follow at a distance, Dawkins. The carriage is too far ahead to overtake, and I do not wish to alarm him. Our only hope now is to recover Lydia when they stop to eat.”
“Very good, sir.”
Elizabeth opened her basket and took out a boiled egg and a slice of buttered toast. “Papa, are you hungry?”
“No, Elizabeth. I have no appetite.”
As Elizabeth nibbled her toast in her father’s carriage, she little suspected that she would not return home for many months to come.
They had traveled for two hours, and Wickham had not halted.
“Elizabeth, this man drives hard to be well clear of Meryton. He does not intend marriage if he carries an underage girl to London. The blackguard.”
“He is a drifter, Papa. I heard Lieutenant Denny was attempting to recruit him into the militia.”
“A drifter? Is that all we know of the man?”
