14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Two hours later, Lizzy made her way below stairs, her mind on her intended walk. As she hurried past the drawing room, she nodded to Mary and Kitty, but did not stop to speak. She desperately needed her solitary stroll. Her father planned to talk to Mr. Darcy this morning. Why, he's probably already there!

Her steps became brisker as she tried to outrun her nervousness. The crunch of the gravel that normally soothed her, grated on her nerves. I know Papa approves, and Mr. Darcy is not likely to suddenly change his mind just because Papa is speaking to him. Still, what will be said? Oh, I wish it would be proper for me to be there! Her heart fluttered as she sat on one of the garden benches. She leaned back and drew deep breathes trying to calm herself. Above her, she noticed Lydia's open window, curtains rustling in the light breeze. When did she change her mind about morning air?

With a shrug, she returned to the house through the kitchen door. Immediately the tempting scents of fresh baking assailed her nostrils. Newly baked muffins sat cooling on the long table. With a furtive glance about the room, she took one.

"There are plenty of cool ones already set out!" Cook scolded, a twinkle in her eye as she slapped Lizzy's hand playfully.

"But they taste ever so much better fresh from the oven." Lizzy laughed, helping herself to a second one whilst deftly dodging Cook's good-natured rebuke. Her mouth full, she wandered into the parlor, looking for her younger sisters.

"Good morning, Lizzy," Mary greeted her as she looked up from her book.

Lizzy chewed and swallowed, but before she could reply, she yawned. "Excuse me!" She laughed, sitting down beside Kitty. Self-consciously she brushed crumbs from her chin.

Kitty turned and smiled. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did, thank you. What are you working on?" She looked over Kitty's shoulder at the pile of light blue fabric in her lap.

"I got bored with this dress. So I decided to pull the bodice apart. I saw a magazine when I visited Maria, and it had a picture of a gown with insets on the bodice. So, I embroidered these," she held up two finely decorated pieces of pale yellow muslin and a handful of braided ribbons, "to fit into the bodice."

Lizzy traced the embroidery with her fingertips. "What a pretty pattern and those ribbons— what a clever idea. I would never have thought of it. I cannot wait to see it finished; it will be beautiful indeed."

"Thank you," Kitty looked over her shoulder and smiled a little shyly.

"I did not know you liked to embroider." She ran the braided ribbons through her fingers.

"I did not think that I did," Kitty muttered with a dramatic sigh. "But since Papa has restricted us to the house, I decided to try it again." She lifted her project into the light of a sunbeam to admire the detail. "I do think it looks rather well."

"Are you complaining again?" Mary chided wearily.

"No," Kitty pouted, looking down at her lap. "We should not have disobeyed him."

"I am glad you realize that." Lizzy patted he shoulder approvingly.

"But he is so unfair." Kitty dropped her work to into her lap dejectedly. "Why should he not want us to…"

Lizzy held her hand up for silence. "Enough. We must have a talk. I will get Lydia. Mary, request a fresh pot of tea; I have much to say to help you understand Papa." She rose and quickly made her way up to Lydia's room.

"Lydia, you are needed below stairs." She knocked loudly enough that her knuckles hurt. No answer came. "Lydia!" Elizabeth rapped on the door again; still there was no response.

Finally pounding with her fist, she yelled, "Lydia!" Frustrated, she tried the door only to find it locked. Grinding her teeth, she went to her father's study to retrieve the master key. "Stubborn, headstrong girl," she muttered as she stomped up the stairs. She knocked once more before she fumbled at the lock.

The door swung open, and Lizzy stormed in. "What is the meaning…" her voice trailed off as she stared around the room. "Do not play these childish games!" She looked under the bed, in the closet and behind the curtains. "Lydia!" she shouted, clenching her fists against her thighs.

Mary and Kitty appeared at the doorway. "What is wrong?" Mary asked fearfully.

"I cannot find Lydia," Lizzy exclaimed turning to Kitty. "Have you any idea of where she is?"

"No, but," Kitty quickly crossed the room to the open window, "look at the trellis."

Lizzy motioned Kitty out of the way and leaned out to examine the scuffed paint and broken branches. "Foolish, foolish girl!" she exclaimed, turning back to her sisters. "I saw fresh foot prints below as well. She must have climbed down. When did you see her last?"

Mary's brows knit thoughtfully. "She got upset at breakfast, when we questioned Lt. Wickham's honor."

"She rushed off in a fury," Kitty agreed, glancing back toward the window. Her eyes narrowed, and she scanned the room. "I think…" she walked to the closet and peered in, then checked under the bed and in her trunk. "Her yellow gown is missing. She had laid it out so I could help her mend it, but it is not where she left it."

Mary gasped. "She said some things at breakfast…I wonder…could it be possible that she has been meeting with him?"

Elizabeth scowled and looked out the window again. Awkwardly, she reached out to feel the damage to the trellis. "The marks suggest this has been climbed more than once. I think it quite likely she has played us all for fools!" She blew out a deep breath, pulling away from the window. "I fear she went to town to find the officers. Kitty, have you any idea where she would go?"

"I do not know," Kitty stammered, tears welling. "Perhaps the boarding house where they took rooms?"

"There are at least three in town— which one?" Lizzy demanded.

"The one next door to Uncle Philips's office," she replied meekly.

"How convenient; no wonder…" Lizzy muttered under her breath, shaking her head. She stalked from the room, her sisters following like ducklings. Lizzy paused to gather her spencer and bonnet, then stomped down the stairs. In the foyer, she turned to them and said, "Now is not the time for long explanations, but Lt. Wickham is not a man to be trusted. Mr. Darcy calls him a stoat…"

Mary gulped and Kitty paled. "Surely he exaggerates, Lizzy. He did not seem all that bad." Kitty protested weakly. "His manners were so gentlemanly…"

"I have no reason to distrust Mr. Darcy's statements, and you know Papa thinks highly of him. We have every reason to trust Mr. Darcy far more than Lt. Wickham." She glared at her younger sisters. "I fear Lydia has tried to seek out Lt. Wickham. She must be found before Papa discovers what she has done. Kitty, go to the Lucases and see if she has called there. I will ride into town and try to find her. Mary, if she returns here, keep her here by whatever means needed."

"Oh, Lizzy, do not overreact." Kitty wrung her hands.

Lizzy took a step closer to her sister. "I am not. You do not understand what she risks. Do as I have asked."

Mary and Kitty looked at each other and swallowed hard. "Yes, Lizzy."

"I hope to return soon." Buttoning her spencer, she hurried out.

At the barn, she hissed with frustration remembering that her father and Jane had taken the gig that morning. Toppur whinnied a greeting. While tempted to saddle him, she knew she should not ride into town astride. So she asked the groom to quickly saddle the brown mare.

Soon, the horse was brought out. Lizzy sighed seeing the dreaded sidesaddle firmly cinched to her back. She quickly mounted and took the riding whip from the groom. What a poor substitute this is for my knee to guide her. She pressed the tip of the resilient whip to the mare's side and urged her forward with her left knee.

Despite the fact that she pressed the mare to go as fast as she could safely ride, the trip into Meryton felt very long. Lizzy muttered a number of unladylike things under her breath as she fought the awkward posture of the sidesaddle. Finally, the buildings of town came into view. She scanned the streets and listened carefully for any sign of her sister, but found nothing. Her heart raced loudly, making it difficult to hear.

It took far too long for her to finally reach the boarding house. As she approached, she felt her face grow cold, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. A sudden chill wind blew down the street, whipping leaves and dust from the ground. The mare shied nervously. She pulled the horse to a stop so she could listen again. Closing her eyes, she held her breath and tried to capture the slightest sound.

Muffled noises came from somewhere behind the boarding house. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated on the sounds. Gah! Papa would be able to tell what that was! For a moment the sound became just barely louder—the cry of a woman's voice.

Without even thinking, she tapped the whip on Bessie's side and urged the horse into motion. The lane between the boarding house and her uncle's office was almost too narrow for Bessie, making the horse anxious as she surged through the confined area. Finally they cleared the building and entered a larger alley that ran behind the buildings. Lizzy scanned the narrow street and found Lydia, pinned against a brick wall by a tall man.

Standing before her, Mr. Wickham sneered and laughed. "What's the matter, sweet Lyddie?" he asked as he leaned forward to kiss her. "You liked my kisses readily enough the last time you came here."

"Let me go!" Lydia struggled against her captor, managing to kick Wickham hard in the shins.

"Bloody hell! Carter! Can you not hold a little green girl?" Wickham hissed.

Carter slammed her back against the wall, her head thudding against the bricks. Wickham raised his right hand and struck her backhanded across the face. His ring left a ragged cut on her cheek that bled profusely. "You cannot think I would take you to Gretna Green for a wedding before I sampled your wares?" He grabbed the front of her dress and ripped it open, exposing her chemise and stays.

She screamed weakly only to be slammed back again. Her head fell forward, a dark stain on the bricks behind her.

"Let her go!" Lizzie shouted, kicking Bessie into motion.

Mr. Bennet's visit to Netherfield resulted in not one, but two serious talks with the young gentlemen in residence there. Although Darcy would not divulge the precise details of the concerns that prevented him from marrying or publicly declaring himself, he was able to satisfy Bennet's concerns regarding the seriousness of his proposal. Bennet blessed their engagement but insisted that it should be kept quiet until such time as Darcy was free to marry, lest Lizzy be injured by the gossip that such an unusual engagement would engender.

Bingley plucked up his courage and asked for a private audience with Bennet next. Stammering his way through, he asked for permission to court his "angel." With no small amount of teasing, he too received Bennet's blessings, and all went on to enjoy a fresh pot of coffee and biscuits.

Shortly thereafter, Darcy and Bingley excused themselves, for they were engaged for tea at the Philipses'. Jane took the opportunity to visit with Louisa, and Mr. Bennet enjoined Mr. Hurst for another round of chess. And so they passed a pleasant several hours.

Darcy and Bingley enjoyed the fresh breeze of the early afternoon as they rode into town. They paused briefly at the lane leading to Longbourn. "If we stop now," Bingley laughed, "we will certainly be late. I do not wish to be rude when so many important personages will be gathered; I believe Mrs. Philips said she expected the Colonel of the regiment, the mayor and the magistrate for tea. We can stop at Longbourn on the way back."

"I suppose you are right," Darcy sighed, guiding his horse back along the main road. But I will see her this afternoon. I want to be the one to tell her we have her father's blessing. Oh, that I was free! I would make her my wife as soon as the banns were read.

Mr. Philips's law office and home stood at the corner of the main street in a prestigious part of town. The windows were thrown open to catch the pleasant breeze, the light curtains fluttering in the wind.

Mr. Philips greeted them while they were still dismounting. "A good day to you both."

"Good day, sir." Bingley bowed. Darcy followed suit.

"May I show you in?" He gestured toward the doors. They followed him inside and upstairs where his wife welcomed them and showed them to the drawing room where Sir William awaited them.

They sat down, and Sir William immediately regaled them with tales of Meryton's history. Darcy sat back and listened, watching as Bingley energetically engaged the mayor. Here, Bingley is in his element. I know he is little more interested in these stories than I, and yet one looks at him and believes him utterly fascinated.

Mr. Long, the local magistrate entered. The men rose and bowed while Mr. Philips made the appropriate introductions. Mr. Long took a chair near Mr. Darcy. Sir William continued his tale, but after several minutes, Mr. Long leaned toward Darcy, "He tells those to every visitor he can pin down long enough to hear him." He chuckled under his breath.

Darcy nodded. "He appears quite proud of Meryton."

"That he is, sir. I hear you are from the north— Derbyshire, they say."

"I am." Darcy watched Mr. Long's thin face, wondering where these questions were leading. Bennet would already have figured him out.

"You have an estate there?" Long asked, peering over his glasses.

"I do." Darcy shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Judging by the cut of your suit and the make of your boots, it must be a very fine one," Long muttered. "Have you taken on any civic duties, sir?"

Darcy fought the temptation to roll his eyes. "Not yet, sir; I expect in time, I will do so. But my father died only a few years ago, and I wished to have time to first learn the running of my own lands before I applied my hand to running anything else."

Long leaned back and nodded seriously. "Well spoken, sir. I fear few gentlemen take their civic duties seriously enough. They jump into it far too glibly and do not do the office justice." He grasped the lapels of his jacket and tugged at them.

"I understand you are magistrate here," Darcy observed softly, as Sir William's began another tale.

"Indeed I am, sir." Long's chest puffed slightly, and he sat straighter in his chair.

"Where is your estate? I heard it was on the north side of Meryton." Darcy glanced jealously at Bingley who laughed easily with Sir William.

"Lyman is northeast of town, just four miles or so. I am sure you passed by it on your way to Netherfield. The house is stationed in sight of the main road. It is not so grand as Longbourn…"

Darcy's mind wandered briefly before he noticed Mr. Long had stopped speaking. He searched for something to say, lest he appear rude. "Has Mr. Bennet ever served as magistrate?"

Long began to laugh, struggling awkwardly to stifle it. "That is positively cruel, sir!" He paused and stared at Darcy, "You cannot be serious— a man like him? He is unfit…"

"Unfit for exactly what?" Darcy immediately countered, his face coloring.

Long's next comment was interrupted by Col. Forster's arrival. Mr. Philips welcomed him in and rang for tea. For the next half hour, the men enjoyed their tea and refreshments. Following Bingley's lead, Darcy even managed to utter a few compliments.

"Is Mrs. Forster enjoying her time in Meryton?" Mrs. Philips asked as she transferred biscuits onto a plate for the colonel.

"She is indeed, madam. I do not believe she had traveled much before we married, so any new place brings her great delight." Forster took the plate with a gracious dip of his head. "She has met many young ladies in the community, and I believe she counts many of them among her friends. We certainly have received a warm welcome here. I can tell you that is not always the case when we bring the regiment into camp."

"And did she enjoy the assembly?" Mrs. Philips leaned back and smoothed her skirts.

"That she did. She is quite wild for dancing, and has not the opportunity often enough."

"It is a shame that no one has hosted a ball yet," she glanced pointedly at Bingley. "The public assemblies are all well enough, but anyone who can afford a ticket is allowed to attend. If you want truly agreeable company, a private ball…" She stopped suddenly as a frightening shriek sounded from outside the window. "My goodness, what is that?" she gasped.

The men sprang to their feet, a second scream sounding before they could make it to the window. Darcy lagged behind them, his heart cold in his chest. He well knew the voice. Elizabeth!