To Conquer Mr. Darcy (25 page)

“I cannot say—I suppose she must, that my mother must have written her with the news; she no doubt sent it to everyone she could,” she said hesitantly.

“And Lydia would no doubt have reported it to Wickham, knowing his opinion of me. You cannot suppose that she was the true inducement—she has no money that can tempt him, but she has that connection to me. No, Elizabeth, this has everything to do with me; this is just what he attempted last summer with Georgiana, but now he is trying to strike at me through you.”

She stared at him in horror—she had not thought so ill, even of Wickham, as to think that his vengeance would extend so far. Darcy, misinterpreting the look on her face, leaned his forehead against hers, and whispered sorrowfully, “Can you ever forgive me, my dearest, for bringing this upon you?”

“You have done nothing to cause this,” she said fiercely. “You are not to blame for Wickham’s behavior, nor for Lydia’s, and I will not have you fault yourself for it!”

He held her close to him, wishing that he could take this grief from her. “Elizabeth, I need to consider what must be done. Is there nothing I could bring you for your present relief? A glass of wine, shall I get you one?”

“No, I thank you, nothing but you,” she said none too fluently.

He removed himself to the chair beside her, where he could continue to hold her hand while he considered matters. Finally he said, “The Gardiners will return here tonight; even if I sent a messenger to Matlock now, it would not bring them back in time to leave today, and there is no point in worrying them before anything can be done. You and I shall leave for London tomorrow morning, where we will meet your father and begin efforts to discover them.”

“Jane asks me to return to Longbourn, and I have no doubt she needs my help and support in dealing with my mother,” she said tentatively.

Darcy shook his head decisively. “Jane does not know the full situation, and she has Bingley with her for support. I will need you with me to deal with Lydia; I doubt she would listen to anything I have to say—and I will need you myself, I have no doubt. Perhaps the Gardiners could go to Longbourn instead.”

It will take me some time to accustom myself to the idea that my first loyalties must now go to him, and not to my family,
she thought.
I must remember that I am his wife now, as unconventional as our wedding may have been.
With an unpleasant shock, it came to her how their abrupt marriage would look to her family in light of these new events, and what her father would feel faced with another daughter who had been rushed to the altar.

The day seemed interminable to Elizabeth. She would have preferred to be taking some form of action, but apart from overseeing the packing for the trip to London, there was little she could do but wait and worry. Her mind kept flying to Lydia, fretting over her safety as well as her future, for what future could there be for her, either as Wickham’s wife or as a ruined woman? Wickham would never be able to provide for her in any sort of acceptable manner—her lot would be continual poverty and the misery of a marriage to a liar and wastrel, and
this
was to be the best possible outcome. The humiliation and misery that Lydia was bringing on her family also pained her; not only would it materially affect the marriage chances of Kitty and Mary, and delay, possibly indefinitely, the wedding of Jane and Bingley, but its effects on the Darcy family must be considered as well. She could only imagine the extent to which Darcy would be mortified by the continued connection to Wickham, and there was no question that the news would be hurtful to Georgiana. Darcy had been clear that he did not wish to blame her in any way for it, but Elizabeth could not help but worry whether his ability to keep separate his feelings about Lydia and about her was strong enough to keep this affair from contaminating his affection for her.

Her anger and shock at Lydia’s behavior led to further unpleasant thoughts as she considered her own conduct in recent days and weeks. She was appalled by Lydia’s choices, yet how were they so very different from her own? Was it not mere good fortune on her part that her lapses, though every bit as grave as Lydia’s, were to go quite unpunished while her sister suffered irreparable damage? She had begun to feel less troubled by her permissive behavior as it became clear that the consequences would not be severe, but this situation could not but bring back to her awareness the gravity of her own errors.

The Gardiners and Georgiana returned in the late afternoon, and after Darcy had taken a few minutes to greet his sister, he asked the others to join him in his study, where Elizabeth was awaiting them. One look at her face was enough to convince Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner that all was not well, and after they had perused Jane’s letters and heard an explanation from Darcy detailing his connection with Wickham, as well as the past behavior of that gentleman, they readily offered any possible help in resolving the situation. While in general agreement with the plans drawn up by Darcy, Mr. Gardiner felt that his presence in London could be useful, and after some discussion it was resolved that he would travel to town with Darcy and Elizabeth while Mrs. Gardiner proceeded to Longbourn, accompanied by servants from Pemberley for her safety and the sake of propriety. She would stay there as long as required before returning to London with the children, and it was agreed that she would not reveal Elizabeth’s marriage at present, given the apparent level of distress already present in the household.

After the Gardiners left to refresh themselves before dinner, Elizabeth remained with Darcy, drawing comfort in her distress from his presence. She was still there when Georgiana came in to tell her brother about her stay at Matlock. Seeing Elizabeth’s tear-stained face and her brother’s grave countenance, Georgiana immediately inquired as to the cause of their distress.

“It is nothing of any import, Georgiana, merely a minor difficulty,” Darcy said reassuringly. “You need not trouble yourself over it.”

Georgiana looked unconvinced, knowing well the extent to which her brother strove to keep unpleasantness from her. “If it is not so serious, please tell me, then, else I shall continue to worry about it.”

“Georgiana,” her brother said with a warning in his voice.

She gave him a pained look. “You cannot keep me a child forever, William,” she said softly, turning to leave them.

Elizabeth said, “Georgiana, wait. I believe that she has a point, William. She cannot be protected from this for long, and it is my belief that she has the strength to handle it.”

“I hardly think that this is the time…” Darcy fell silent as he noted the look on Elizabeth’s face. “Well, if you think it best, I will trust your judgment.”

Elizabeth gave him a grateful look and took Georgiana’s hand. “We received some bad news from Longbourn today, and I fear that it will prove particularly distressing to you. It seems that my youngest sister, Lydia, who was in Brighton while you were at Netherfield, has eloped, or perhaps more accurately, has run off, with none other than Mr. Wickham.”

Georgiana’s face froze, and then took on a look of concerted control that Elizabeth found strikingly similar to that which she had observed on Darcy’s face on like occasions. “I see,” she said quietly.

“Elizabeth and I will be leaving for London in the morning, as will the Gardiners, in an attempt to discover them,” Darcy said gently. “I will, of course, send you word as soon as we have any news.”

She was silent for a moment, and then said, “I will keep you in my prayers.” She turned to leave, causing an anxious look to pass over her brother’s face. “Thank you for telling me, William,” she said before departing hastily.

“Perhaps I should go after her,” Darcy said worriedly.

“Give her a little time first,” said Elizabeth. “Had she wanted to talk, she would have stayed.” Although she was also concerned about Georgiana’s reaction, she had greater faith than Darcy in his sister’s ability to take care of herself.

* * *

It was at a rather subdued dinner that evening that Georgiana announced her intention to accompany them to town. Taken off guard, Darcy said, “I hardly think it necessary for you to undertake so long a journey. This is not a particularly pleasant time of year to be in town, after all.”

“Nonetheless, I would like to go,” she said in a voice just above a whisper.

Darcy looked at her, perplexed. It was unlike Georgiana to argue with him, and that she would do so in front of others was quite startling. He did not wish to hurt her feelings at a time when she must already be feeling quite sensitive, but the last thing he wanted was to have to worry about Georgiana’s feelings when he was trying to deal with Wickham.

Elizabeth said, “You sound as if this is quite important to you, Georgiana.”

Georgiana glanced at her in relief. “Yes, it is,” she said, her voice a little steadier.

“I doubt that there will be any time for outings or pleasurable activities,” said Darcy.

She took a deep breath. “I do not require anyone to amuse me, William. I assure you that I can take care of myself.”

Darcy thought to himself that he would never understand the workings of his sister’s mind, and certainly not the moments when she chose to assert herself. “Elizabeth, what are your thoughts?” he asked.

Elizabeth folded her napkin. “If she wishes to come, I see no objection,” she said, her eyes meeting her husband’s, hoping to communicate to him the need to recognize Georgiana’s steps toward independence.

He sighed. “Very well, then, Georgiana, you may come if you wish.”

Later, when Georgiana was able to speak to Elizabeth privately, she thanked her for her support. “It is not that I think that there is anything I can do to help, but I do not want to spend the rest of my life trying to avoid whatever part of the country he might be in. This seems as good a time as any to face my fears.”

Elizabeth embraced her. “I am glad that you have the courage to face it now. That is the first step to healing.”

“I cannot help but think that it could have been me, but for the chance of William’s arrival,” she said softly. “I was such a fool.
You
would never have been taken in so, Elizabeth.”

“I beg to differ, I spent a good deal of time in Mr. Wickham’s company, and I was quite taken with his amiability and manners. I even believed lies that he told me about your brother,” Elizabeth said ruefully.

“I find that hard to believe!” Georgiana exclaimed, then, realizing what she had said, timidly retreated, saying, “I do not mean to doubt your word, Elizabeth; it is only that it surprises me.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “It seems we are all vulnerable to having our hearts lead us astray from what is right,” she said, thinking of the principles she had violated in her behavior with Darcy.

* * *

When Darcy came to her that night, she was curled up in the window seat looking out into the starlit darkness. He was aware that Elizabeth had been out of spirits since reading Jane’s letters, and had been somewhat at a loss as to how to comfort her. His belief that his presence in her life had been the cause of Wickham’s choice of Lydia made it difficult for him to approach her; he could not help but think that she would consider any joy that they had to have been purchased by the misery of her sister, and that she would resent him for it. The idea that she might withdraw from him was like a knife wound, sharp and intense, and it took all his courage to draw near her.

It was something of a reassurance that she immediately put her arms around him, laying her head upon his shoulder. She had been longing for the comfort of his embrace and the forgetfulness she could find in his arms, even as her sense of shame over her lack of self-control with him continued to increase.

He held her close, awash in the paradoxical feelings of freedom that he felt only at her touch, and, unable to keep his feelings inside him, murmured, “I love you so very much, Elizabeth; I cannot imagine my life without you by my side.” He could feel some of the tension leave her body at his words, but as she remained silent, his anxiety grew. “Dearest love,” he said finally, “please say something, or I shall be leaping to the worst possible conclusion again.”

She looked up at him in surprise, hearing the seriousness of his words beneath the apparently playful tone. Having been caught up in her own concerns, she had given little thought to what his might be. “And what would that conclusion be?” she asked.

He looked into her eyes, and not without anxiety said, “That you could not forgive me for what has happened to Lydia.”

“William, I remain in awe of your ability to concoct reasons for me to be angry with you. Should I ever desire to have a fit of pique, I will certainly come to you to obtain an appropriately far-fetched justification. No, I do not blame you in any way; you have been everything that is kind and supportive, and I have no complaints whatsoever.”

He could not help but smile at her look of amusement. “I am relieved to hear it. It worries me when you are out of spirits and reserved as you have been today.”

She wished for the ability to express her anxieties to him as easily as he seemed to do with her. “I…” she began, but found herself unable to continue, and responded instinctively by reaching up to kiss him in a way that left him without doubts as to her intentions. Surprised, but by no means averse to such a notion, he returned her attentions with interest, tasting the pleasures of her mouth and running his hands down to her hips.

She did not pull back until she was breathless with desire, her body clamoring for the pleasure and release that only he could give her. Feeling their closeness, she was finally able to voice her fears. “I am afraid of this coming between us,” she confessed, her voice uneven.

“No,” he said strongly, taking her face in his hands. “Nothing is going to come between us again—I will not allow it.” He kissed her passionately and deeply, as if branding her with his truth. “My love,” he groaned, his mouth traveling along her jaw and down her neck. “Never think such a thing, never!”

Elizabeth was too caught up in the pleasure of his kisses to respond. When he finally raised his mouth, Darcy said, “I hope you are convinced, my love, that this matter of Lydia will not come between us.”