Her father came and looked at her gravely. “Hill sent someone for us immediately when the note was discovered. We stopped by the Forsters’ upon leaving the Phillips’s, and when we applied for Lydia, they said they had not seen her all day.” It was all he could do to explain the situation to Elizabeth in a calm, rational manner.
“But with whom did she elope?” Elizabeth asked, her voice and countenance distressed.
“According to this,” Mr. Bennet shook the note angrily, “she and that Wickham have run off together, proving to me that she has not an ounce of sense in her!”
Darcy started at the mention of Wickham’s name, growing incensed at what he heard “With whom did you say she ran off?” His voice was low and raspy.
Mr. Bennet looked at Darcy curiously, suddenly wondering why he was here. “Mr. Wickham. And it makes absolutely no sense that he would run off with the intention of marrying our Lydia! She has nothing to offer him!”
“Oh, Mr. Bennet, please,” cried Mrs. Bennet. “Perhaps they love each other! He had certainly been singling her out with his attentions.”
“Nonsense! He has absolutely no use for her… at least as a wife!”
“Oh, do you have to say such things?” Mrs. Bennet reached for her smelling salts.
Darcy looked down at Elizabeth, tightening his hands into fists, and finally recovering a semblance of control, whispered to Elizabeth, “Would that be George Wickham?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said, feeling quite distraught that Lydia was putting her family through this, but also that her husband was witness to the scene. “Are you acquainted with him?”
Darcy closed his eyes and brusquely rubbed his chin with his hand. “Unfortunately, I am.”
Suddenly, Mr. Bennet looked again at Darcy, noticing his most severe countenance. “And might I inquire as to your presence here, Mr. Darcy? Are you enjoying the trials and tribulations of our family?”
Darcy stiffened, unable to calm himself enough to make a rational response.
“And where have you been, Lizzy? No one seemed to know where you were off to.”
“I was out… walking, Papa.”
“At least you have not run off, eh?” He looked at his wife, who flailed a handkerchief in the air to circulate some air around her.
Elizabeth looked at Darcy; her eyes wide as she shook her head, giving him a look that said now would definitely not be the time to say anything!
Crying relentlessly, Mrs. Bennet said, “I am sure he intends to marry her, Mr. Bennet! Lydia would not do this to us!” She dramatically dabbed at her tears with her handkerchief. “Oh, my poor, dear girl!”
“Madam,” Mr. Bennet answered gravely, “I can guarantee that he will not! Lydia may be under the foolish impression they are to be married, but I am most certain this Wickham will leave her disgraced when he is through with her! Colonel Forster himself told me that he had just come to learn of his disreputable behaviour! He has unpaid gambling debts throughout Meryton! He certainly cannot expect our family’s fortune sufficient to pay them off!”
“Excuse me, sir,” Darcy said. “But I must agree with Mrs. Bennet. I believe Wickham does intend to marry your daughter.”
Darcy’s words halted all thought and movement on Mr. Bennet’s part. “Mr. Darcy,” he said slowly. “I appreciate your trying to console us in our time of distress, but you can hardly know the circumstances.”
“Sir, I beg to disagree. I have known George Wickham from childhood, and there is some information of which you are not aware that will shed some light on his willingness… indeed, his purposeful resolve… to marry your daughter.”
Suddenly, Elizabeth’s eyes shot open wide as she realized Mr. Wickham must have been the longtime family friend who took their marriage certificate to Lady Catherine. That meant he knew about their marriage. And that meant her husband was about to tell her father the truth about them!
“Pray, Mr. Darcy, what is this information?”
“Yes! Yes!” cried Mrs. Bennet. “What do you know? I knew he would marry her! I just knew it!”
“I would speak with you alone, sir.”
“You have some information that will explain his singling out Lydia?”
Darcy nodded.
Elizabeth pleaded with him with her eyes. “Perhaps now is not the best time, Mr. Darcy.”
“No, I believe there is no better time.”
A sense of dread began to rise up within Elizabeth, knowing her father’s propensity to be overcome with anger and see very little else objectively. She said, “Please, then, I beg leave to join you.”
“No, I believe I need to discuss this with your father alone.” He turned to the middle-aged gentleman. “Shall we?”
Elizabeth’s fingers covered her mouth in distress as she watched them turn to leave.
“What is Mr. Darcy about, Lizzy? Tell me what he knows!”
“Something about Mr. Wickham, I presume.” Elizabeth’s response was deceptively calm.
“Oh, Lizzy! If he does not marry Lydia, what shall we do? What shall become of us? This would destroy my meagre hopes for you girls to marry well! Oh, but he will marry her! I just know it! He must!”
Elizabeth sighed at her mother’s clashing emotions. She did not know it for a certainty, but felt very strongly that it would not be in Lydia’s best interest to marry this man. The alternative, however, was just as dreadful.
She wondered how her husband would fare breaking the news to her father. As a tremor unexpectedly passed through her, she excused herself and quickly caught up with the men.
She knew her mother would only persist in attempting to garner information from her, and at the moment she felt she would rather endure her father’s interrogation than her mother’s.
Her father looked at her oddly as he reached the door to his study and began to walk in.
“Lizzy, was there something you wanted before we go in?”
Elizabeth straightened her carriage and took in a deep breath. “I wish to come in with you and Mr. Darcy, Papa.”
“Elizabeth, no!” Darcy ordered, and then closed his eyes contritely as he felt the wrathful gaze of Mr. Bennet upon him. Softly, he muttered, “Please no, Miss Elizabeth.”
Observing the stubborn determination of Elizabeth and the awkward countenance of this man of great wealth and position, Mr. Bennet was more than a little curious. To Darcy’s disbelief, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Come, Lizzy. I recognize that determined look on your face. If you feel as though you should be here, then who am I to stop you?”
They walked into the room. Elizabeth quickly sat down in one of the chairs while Darcy remained standing. “Come, Mr. Darcy, sit,” offered Mr. Bennet.
“Thank you, no, sir.” Instead of taking the proffered seat, Darcy walked over to the window and looked out. He then turned back to Elizabeth and in a firm, yet gentle, voice said, “Please allow me to do all the talking.”
Elizabeth folded her hands tightly and silently nodded her agreement.
Eyeing them both suspiciously, Mr. Bennet said, “You have some information for me… something about this Wickham.”
“Yes, but it is not all about Wickham. Part of it concerns me… and your daughter.”
“Lydia?”
Darcy shook his head. “No, sir. Miss Elizabeth.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyes narrowed at his words and he looked at the blushing countenance of his daughter. “Lizzy? What does this have to do with her?”
Elizabeth took a breath as if to answer, and Darcy slowly reached out a hand to stop her. “What I have to tell you will most likely be… difficult to understand.”
“Mr. Darcy, nothing that has happened today has been easy to understand.”
“I am not quite sure how to tell you this.”
“Telling me directly is a viable option.”
Darcy looked over, glancing furtively at Elizabeth, and nervously said, “Someone else once said something to that effect to me.”
Mr. Bennet narrowed his eyes at the man pacing the floor in front of him. “Pray, Mr. Darcy, what is the relationship between you and my daughter?”