by Jennifer Kay
Luckily, her young cousins would not let her sit in solitude for long. Lucy demanded Elizabeth’s thoughts on the sights they passed, Cora wanted her hair braided, Daniel fell asleep with his head in her lap, and Christopher begged for pirate stories. The twenty miles to London were far from silent, and for that, Elizabeth could only be thankful.
They reached her aunt and uncle’s house late that afternoon and immediately began preparing for dinner. Mr. Gardiner had been required to go to his warehouse for the day and only joined them as they sat down for the meal. He frowned at Elizabeth, but said nothing until after dinner, when he called both his wife and niece into this study.
“I will not dissemble,” Mr. Gardiner said plainly once the door had closed behind them and all three had found seats. “I would not have agreed to Elizabeth joining us in London, and I do not see what good it will do. This is not a holiday.” He fixed her with a stern look. “Since you are here, understand that there will be far harsher rules than you have encountered before. There will be no outings, no shopping trips or walks.”
“Is there no hope for Lydia?” Mrs. Gardiner asked. “I had thought that, should we find her, having a sister in attendance could lend credibility to her marriage. And if she is found, then she will be brought here and another set of eyes may keep her from disappearing again.”
Mr. Gardiner hesitated. “I have a lead, but there are no guarantees. Before I say anything else, Lizzy, I want your agreement. I understand that you are deeply interested and that this impacts you, and I am well aware that you prefer action to your mother’s theatrics. However, you are to follow my lead, do as I say, and not go looking for information on your own. I will have no well-meaning plans or forays out into the city. You will help your aunt and entertain your cousins. If you act like an adult I will treat you like one, but I do not have the time for a second childish niece. Do I make myself clear?”
Oh, what Elizabeth would have given to hear such a statement from her own father, even as protests and arguments formed in the back of her mind. Had Mr. Bennet made a habit of such sentiments, Lydia would have been tamed or at very least managed, and she and the Gardiners would still be in Derbyshire or an equally beautiful location—but no, it was useless to think such things now. Elizabeth swallowed her mix of anger, resentment, and regret. “Yes, Uncle, I agree.”
Mr. Gardiner studied her for a minute more and Elizabeth forced herself to sit calmly, meeting his eyes without squirming or looking away. She would be an adult. Finally, Mr. Gardiner seemed satisfied and nodded. “Very well. I do have news. Please keep your interruptions to a minimum, and I will summarize as best I can. As I said, nothing is settled, but I have had word of Lydia. She is in London, and she is still with Mr. Wickham.”
Elizabeth grabbed the seat of her chair and hung on tightly, focusing on how the edge of the wood bit into her hands as she tried to ignore the anticipation and anxiety that filled her stomach. Her uncle must have noticed as well, for one eyebrow lifted slightly, but he did not break off his account.
“I had a most unexpected visit this morning. Mr. Darcy called, and it sounds as though he left Derbyshire only one day after us. He has found out where your sister and Mr. Wickham are, and he has seen and talked with them both; Wickham repeatedly, Lydia once. When I expressed my surprise at seeing him again, Mr. Darcy implied that he came to town with the resolution of hunting for them, since he believes it due to his actions or lack thereof that Wickham's worthlessness had not been so well known as to make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or confide in him. He generously accredited the whole to his mistaken pride, and confessed that he had before thought it beneath him to lay his private actions open to the world.”
Mr. Gardiner paused here and raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth. “I held my tongue as to Lydia’s character, for I am sure he made his own observations while in Meryton. He called it his duty to step forward, and I did not contradict that either, although if he had another motive, I am sure it would never disgrace him.”
Elizabeth felt herself flush violently, and luckily Mrs. Gardiner filled the silence that followed by asking, “How was he able to find them? Is there any other news?”
Mr. Gardiner turned to his wife and continued. “It seems he was in Town for several days before he could find them, but he had more to lead him than we did. He found them staying with a Mrs. Younge, who was at one point a governess to Miss Darcy but was dismissed—he did not say why. She maintains herself by letting lodgings, and while they are not staying with her, they had been there previously. Mr. Darcy learned from her where they were to be found.”
“Are they married?” Elizabeth could not stop the words from bursting out.
Mr. Gardiner did not seem overly bothered by the interruption. “They are not. Mr. Darcy discerned as much and attempted to persuade Lydia to leave Wickham and come here. Lydia refused. In his words, she was absolutely resolved on remaining where she was and did not seem bothered that they were not yet married, although he did stress that she expected a marriage eventually.”
“Will he marry her?” This time it was Mrs. Gardiner who interrupted, looking almost as tense as Elizabeth felt.
Mr. Gardiner’s lips tightened. “It was not his intention, no matter what she thought. It seems Mr. Wickham has considerable debts and still hopes to make his fortune by marrying in another country. Mr. Darcy believes he can be persuaded otherwise, but as of the moment, nothing has been settled and Mr. Wickham has nothing to live on. There is still much more to discuss before the matter can be fully resolved.”
“Will Mr. Darcy call again?”
Mr. Gardiner considered Elizabeth and she could not place the look in his eyes. Was it humor or annoyance? In either case, she had to ask, had to know. She had known Darcy’s intentions, but hearing his actions outlined in past tense made it real in a way it had not been before, and Elizabeth was desperate for more details.
Her uncle gave a small smile. “Perhaps.”
Three
16-31 August 1812
By some chance of fate, Elizabeth was at the nursery window when Mr. Darcy called the next day, tucked behind the curtains while she played hide-and-seek with her cousins. She watched him ride up and swing off his horse, saw as he turned and scanned the street—whether for someone specific or because it was a habit, she didn’t know—and then felt his eyes lock onto hers. They both froze, and for a heartbeat, time stopped. Then a passing man pressed too close to Mr. Darcy’s horse and the beast threatened to rear, requiring all of his rider’s attention.
“Found you!” Christopher crowed simultaneously, grabbing her hand. “Your turn to search, Lizzy!”
She looked back at the street below, but Mr. Darcy was moving towards the door, and any chance at reclaiming the moment was gone.
Elizabeth waited anxiously, but no summons came from downstairs. Finally, she threw her attentions into entertaining her cousins. If she kept forgetting what game they were playing and called a cousin by the wrong name multiple times, well, that was clearly caused by something else.
Not until that evening did Mr. Gardiner call her into his office and explain what had happened.
“They are to be married,” he began, “and Lydia will come here tomorrow, to stay until the wedding.” He talked on, but Elizabeth paid scant attention. It had happened, then. Lydia was saved—she herself was saved, as were Jane, Mary, and Kitty—and all due to a man who owed them nothing. How could they ever thank him?
She forced her attention back to her uncle in time to hear Mr. Gardiner say, “On one other point Mr. Darcy was very clear. He does not want his involvement to be well known. Lydia will be sworn to silence and your aunt and I will say nothing to the rest of the family. What you personally choose to do with the information is up to you, but it is not to be spread. Do you have any questions?”
She really should have paid attention. Well, too late for that now, she could ply Mrs. Gardiner to repeat the details tomorrow. “No, Uncle.”
“Have you considered strapping her to a bed and removing all sharp items from the household?” Elizabeth asked.
A ghost of a smile crossed Mr. Gardiner’s face. “Do not tempt me, Lizzy. I am sure that you and your aunt are more than capable of keeping her here, but after the last week—do not tempt me.”
*
“Why did you have to come?” Lydia exclaimed, her face wrinkling in a mixture of disgust and annoyance as she came into the Gardiner’s front hall and noticed Elizabeth. “Why couldn’t Kitty be here? We could go shopping for my trousseau and see shows and maybe find another officer for Kitty! Or Jane—she could help me make everything just perfect.”
“And Mary could tell you that you have been living in mortal sin and are doomed for Hell unless you repent,” Elizabeth replied, clasping her hands behind her back so she wouldn’t reach out and slap her sister. “You have caused a tremendous deal of inconvenience to our aunt and uncle, and I am here because Aunt Gardiner asked for my assistance with the children—and you are included in that category.”
Lydia threw back her head and laughed derisively. It was a pretty move despite the ugly tone and made her curls bounce in a way sure to attract male attention. Elizabeth wanted to grab a lock of her sister’s hair and yank. “La! How funny you are, Lizzy. I am to be married—are you not more of a child than me?”
Elizabeth knew what her sister was referring to and blushed. “I do not think you have anything of which to be proud, Lydia.”
The Gardiners and Mr. Darcy had entered during their exchange, and Mr. Gardiner added, “There will be no shopping or shows, Lydia, and thankfully your sister is too intelligent to be interested in the ‘other officers’ you mentioned.”
“She’s only jealous because she liked Wickham best, too!” Lydia burst out, and Elizabeth felt heat rush to her face under Mr. Darcy’s observation.
“Jealous?” she snapped. “I enjoyed his company for a matter of weeks. Let us hope you like him better than I did, Lydia, because he was nothing to me some time ago and you are stuck with him for life.” She took a calming breath and recalled her uncle’s insistence that she act like an adult. She’d already messed that up. Elizabeth gritted her teeth and tried again. “Come upstairs with me, Lydia, and I’ll show you our room. Maybe I can even fix your hair so it doesn’t droop so much.”
It was a petty remark, but Lydia grumbled and acquiesced, still muttering under her breath. Elizabeth waited until her sister had passed before she started up the stairs as well, highly aware that each step took her away from Mr. Darcy.
Three minutes down, two weeks to go.
*
That evening there was no meeting in Mr. Gardiner’s study. Instead, Mrs. Gardiner caught Elizabeth in the hallway after dinner, laying a hand on her arm when she would have gone on to the sitting room. “Here,” the older woman said, pressing something into Elizabeth’s hand. “This is for you. I can manage Lydia on my own for a while.” She walked purposefully into the sitting room, leaving her bewildered niece staring after her.
A moment later, Elizabeth recovered herself and raced up the stairs, not pausing until she’d shut the door to the room she now shared with Lydia. Very few people knew she was in London, and almost all of them were in the same house as her. If a letter had come from home, Mrs. Gardiner would have said so. That could only mean— Breathing hard, she broke the seal and unfolded the paper.
Miss Elizabeth,
I should not be writing this, for the letter itself contradicts the message it contains, and I find myself in danger of creating a habit of writing thus. This matter has weighed heavily on my mind, however, and since I do not know when I might encounter you next, I will take this chance. I know I can rely on your aunt to be discreet.
I must apologize heartily for my behavior in Lambton. You were distressed—rightfully so—and I took advantage of that. My behavior was inexcusable, and I can only determine that you are correct: I am altogether lacking in a proper gentlemanlike manner. Perhaps it is too much to ask and I do not deserve it, but I beg your forgiveness.
As always, God bless you,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Elizabeth frowned, turned the paper over, then read the letter again. That was it? He’d said nothing of Lydia, nothing that gave her the slightest idea what his feelings were now. But then, wasn’t that enough to understand what he meant? She knew Mr. Darcy well enough to realize he would never write “thanks to your sister’s behavior, you can be nothing to me now.” Chewing on her bottom lip, Elizabeth reread the note—for it could not truly be called a letter, not when it contained only seven sentences. Yes, the meaning was clear enough, and it settled over her slowly, sinking in until she felt like a fool for expecting anything else. This was goodbye.
She had felt regret before, when the contents of his first letter stripped bare her prejudices and revealed the real man. This—this was different. Elizabeth sank down onto her bed, fingertips coming up to touch her lips as she remembered his kisses. That day in Lambton, Elizabeth had known Mr. Darcy was her perfect match. She’d thought everything was lost then, impossible. Only now did she realize how much hope had remained.
If she cried, Lydia would notice in a moment and make everything worse, so Elizabeth forced herself off the bed and over to the mirror. “Jane manages to be calm through her disappointment,” she told her reflection, pinching her cheeks to bring color back to the abnormally pale skin. “You are a lady, not an overgrown child like Lydia. Act like it.”
So she did. Somehow, for the following fortnight, Elizabeth managed to entertain her cousins and keep Lydia from running off while also not strangling her. If she did so by persistently ignoring the misery that seemed to have settled over her shoulders like a cloak—not to mention the questioning looks Mrs. Gardiner frequently sent her way—well, she managed all the same.
*
The day of the wedding dawned on a beautiful day completely at odds with Elizabeth’s mood. The last fortnight had tried her patience beyond anything she’d previously experienced, and any sympathy she might have felt for Lydia had long ago disappeared. Her sister didn’t deserve sunshine and birdsong.
Breakfast drug on, yet another study in self-control as Lydia spent the meal whining about her lack of fine wedding clothes. The rest of the party scarcely spoke—clearly, none of the admonishments given previously had reached Lydia—and when a man called for Mr. Gardiner on urgent business, Elizabeth thought he was only too happy for an excuse to leave the room.
At last, though, Lydia was loaded into the carriage, and her complaints became excitement at getting to see her “dear, dear Wickham” again. Elizabeth wondered how likely it was that the groom felt the same way. She was willing to bet he had considered disappearing at least once during the last two weeks.
But Wickham and Darcy were standing before St. Clement's when they arrived, the former resplendent in a blue coat and the latter dressed more appropriately for a funeral than a wedding. Then again, Elizabeth thought as she looked down at her own dark gown, so was she. Her heart gave a wild thump as she took him in, and her hand went automatically to the scrap of paper she’d tucked into one sleeve that morning before she could lose her nerve. Mr. Darcy wasn’t the only person who could write notes.
“Wickham!” Lydia screeched, throwing herself out of the carriage almost before it stopped moving and running to her betrothed. Elizabeth couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes, although luckily no one seemed to notice. Perhaps they were rolling their own eyes.
Wickham, whatever his true feelings, greeted Lydia with at least a semblance of excitement. As Elizabeth walked towards them, though, he looked up and noticed her presence for the first time—and froze. She had enough time to
close the remaining space between them before he’d recovered enough to bow and say, “Miss Elizabeth, what a pleasant surprise! Have you come to celebrate with us?” But the smile seemed forced, and she caught the quick look that Wickham threw at Darcy, although she could only guess at what it meant.
“Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth said smoothly, not quite managing to keep the chill out of her voice. “I am here to stand up with my sister, if you consider that celebrating.”
Mr. Gardiner, ready to be done with the whole matter, urged the group into the church. Elizabeth caught herself throwing a look of her own at Mr. Darcy—then another glance, and another. But the man stared straight ahead and did not look at her even once.
“I always thought you’d stand up with me, Darce,” Wickham said as they moved to take their places, and Elizabeth noted that a muscle flexed in Darcy’s jaw. Still, he remained silent, a virtual statue in the dim light of the church.
Only once, at the end of the ceremony, did Elizabeth look up and find his eyes on her. She stared back, aware that in a different world they might have stood at the front of a church just like this one, but without anyone between them—the couple being married, not those in attendance. Did he think the same thing? Elizabeth didn’t know. She was only aware that his eyes bored into hers for what seemed like an eternity, until finally the ceremony was done. Lydia and Wickham were married, and whatever spell had tied Darcy and Elizabeth together was broken.
They moved out of the church as a group, Lydia more jubilant than ever, and Elizabeth took her chance in the brief moment that she and Mr. Darcy stood together at the back of the party. He took the slip of paper she held out with a quickly masked look of surprise, and she moved ahead to join her aunt.
