“Lydia?!”
“Lydia was visiting with friends in Brighton. She has left them—has eloped; has thrown herself into the power of—of Mr.Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton.Mr. Darcy,youknow him too well to doubt the rest. She has nomoney, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to marry her. She is lost to us forever.”
“Wickham!” The name exploded from Mr. Darcy’s mouth.
Elizabeth looked up at him, tears running down her cheeks. “I might have prevented it. Ishouldhave prevented it! Had I explained what I knew of him to my family, she would have known better!”
“No, this is my fault, my fault entirely,” Mr. Darcy said, in great agitation.
Poor Mr. Bingley knew not where to look, but his kind heart could not let him be silent. “Miss Elizabeth, is there nothing that can be done?”
“No, nothing.” Elizabeth wept in earnest. “I beg you to conceal this unhappy event as long as you can! Please, please, do not tell your sisters, Mr. Bingley, I beg you!”
“We must leave at once,” Mr. Gardiner declared. “I must help Bennet search for her.”
Mr. Darcy, his head spinning, understood that he and Mr. Bingley should depart. “I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing concern. Would to Heaven that anything could be either said or done on my part, that might offer consolation to such distress! But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks.”
The two gentleman bowed, expressing their concern once again, and took their leave.
In that moment, Elizabeth knew two things. First, she realised that she was in love with Mr. Darcy; second, that he was now lostto her forever. She was ruined, Jane was ruined, they were all ruined, and there was nothing whatever to be done.
“How long will it take you to be ready to leave, Lizzy?” Mr. Gardiner asked.
“Ten minutes. Fifteen.” Elizabeth could not think; her head was still spinning.
“Give us half an hour, Henry,” Mrs. Gardiner whispered to her husband. “I will pack for her; she scarce knows what she is about.”
Another knock on the door prompted an exasperated “Now what?” from Mr. Gardiner.
“Messenger came with this for Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” the maid explained. She handed Mr. Gardiner a small message. It was edged in black.
Mr. Gardiner took it, gave the maid a coin, and just held it for a moment. He did not think his niece could bear any more. He brought it to his wife, and their eyes locked. “I will give it to her,” she whispered.
Elizabeth was in her room, staring at her trunk in confusion. She knew she had to pack, but somehow she could not bring herself to begin. She wanted to be at Longbourn, she wanted to help Jane, to ease the burden that had been placed on her sister’s slender shoulders, but she was unable to decide what to do first.
She looked up as her aunt entered the room.
“Sit down, Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner said, gently.
Elizabeth saw the black-edged letter in her aunt’s hand and began to tremble. “No, no, no, no.”
“Shall I open it, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth could only nod. What if it was Jane? Or Lydia? Or –
“It is your mother, Lizzy. Fanny Bennet has passed away. I am so very sorry.”
Chapter Five
This may prove ruinous to the entire family,” Mr. Darcy muttered, as he and Mr. Bingley traveled back to Pemberley in Mr. Darcy’s carriage.
“How could it not? Stupid, stupid girl!” Mr. Bingley cried.
Mr. Darcy glanced at him. “Are you relieved now not to be married to Miss Bennet?”
“Relieved? Nothing could be further from the truth, Darcy. I wish I had the right to comfort her, to help the Bennets survive this.” Mr. Bingley covered his face with his hands for a moment. He dropped them, then, to say, “Poor Jane! Miss Bennet, rather! She must be in agony! Darcy, how can you be so callous? I know Miss Lydia was no favourite of yours, but nonetheless, you must feel for the family’s situation.”
Mr. Darcy stared out the window for a moment. He turned to his friend. “Bingley, I am far from callous. As for Miss Bennet, I must tell you that I was completely wrong about her; she loved you in Meryton, and I believe she loves you still.”
