Mary looked at Kitty, who reddened and looked away. “There is something you are not telling us, Kitty; have we not had enough of you keeping secrets?”
Poor Kitty blushed even harder, and then recounted her conversation with Maria Lucas. The girls all looked quite alarmed, as did Mr. Bennet, but everyone agreed that Kitty’s counterfeit letter was the ideal manner in which to refute Maria’s suspicions.
***
The plan worked perfectly. They had no hesitation in showing the letter to Lady Lucas. She asked about the reference to Mr. Wickham, and they replied that he had shown some interest in their sister. Their one bad moment came when Lady Lucas suggested that Maria send a letter to Lydia with best wishes for her good health.
“Oh!” Kitty said at once. “I would not bother Maria with such a task, ma’am. Lydia has written few letters in all these weeks; I think Maria would not have the satisfaction of a reply.”
“I see,” Lady Lucas said. “Well, I shall certainly let Maria know that.”
But the fear of such a letter making its way to the Forsters, who would doubtless reply that Lydia was no longer with them, prompted the girls to share their fears with their father.
Mr. Bennet sighed. “I should have thought of this; perhaps I should go to Brighton and speak with the Colonel myself. If he knows of our subterfuge, I am certain he will help us maintain it.”
That afternoon was one of Mr. Bingley’s visitation days; he was shown the letter, and he was told of the family’s concern regarding Maria Lucas sending a letter and receiving a reply that would show Lydia’s illness to be a sham.
“Can the Forsters not be brought into the secret?” he asked.
“Papa plans to travel to Brighton to beg them to keep to our story.”
“How will he travel?”
“By post; our horses are needed at the farm.”
“It is a long journey by post, and most uncomfortable; I could travel quite a bit faster on horseback. I would be happy to be Mr. Bennet’s spokesman in this matter.”
At this, Jane looked at him so admiringly that it was all he could do not to run out and find a dragon to slay for her.
Practical Mary, though, said, “Wait here; let me get Papa.”
Mr. Bennet had been not at all eager to travel to Brighton, no matter how necessary the errand, and he was more than happy to delegate responsibility for this task to Mr. Bingley. Mr. Bennet wrote a brief note to Colonel Forster explaining that Mr. Bingley was a close family friend and was speaking on behalf of the Bennet family; Mr. Bingley tucked the note into his coat pocket and departed, with many promises to return as soon as he was able.
***
The next day, Mr. Bingley rose with the sun. He told no one of his destination, saying only that he would be gone for two or three days.
His journey to Brighton was uneventful. He gave the horse as much rest as it required, and so it took a full day to get to Brighton. It was already growing dark when he arrived. He sought out a comfortable-looking inn, paid extra for his horse to get a good rub-down and a bucket of oats, ordered two meat pies and a tankard of ale for himself, and slept through the night.
He was up early the next day, eager to complete his errand. Fearing to be recognised by some of the soldiers he had met in Meryton the previous fall, he presented himself at the Forster’s home, rather than at the camp. Mary had had the foresight to give him the address, so he had no difficulty in finding it.
Mrs. Forster was home, though the Colonel was not. When he explained that he was visiting on behalf of the Bennets, she immediately sent a messenger to the camp to bring the Colonel home. While they waited, Mrs. Forster showed Mr. Bingley the message Lydia Bennet had left for her to find.
“Go ahead and read it,” Mrs. Forster said.
Mr. Bingley did so, his brows rising in disbelief as he read.
My dear Harriet,
You will laugh when you know where I am gone, and I cannot help laughing myself at your surprise tomorrow morning, as soon as I am missed. I am going to Gretna Green, and if you cannot guess with who, I shall think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in the world I love, and he is an angel. I should never be happy without him, so think it no harm to be off. You need not send them word at Longbourn of my going, if you do not like it, for it will make the surprise the greater when I write to them, and sign my name Lydia Wickham. What a good joke it will be! I can hardly write for laughing.
Pray make my excuses to Pratt for not keeping my engagement, and dancing with him to-night. Tell him I hope he will excuse me when he knows all, and tell him I will dance with him at the next ball we meet with great pleasure. I shall send for my clothes when I get to Longbourn; but I wish you would tell Sally to mend a great slit in my worked muslin gown before they are packed up. Good-bye. Give my love to Colonel Forster. I hope you will drink to our good journey.
Your affectionate friend,
Lydia Bennet
“May I take this back to the Bennets?” Mr. Bingley asked. He thought the safest thing would be to burn it, but that would be for the Bennets to decide.
