As far as Clapham, but no further

George Wickham has more reason to flee Brighton than just his local debts. The self-styled "Duke of East End", a moneylender with a deadly reputation, has set the hounds on Wickham's heels and and Lydia will be caught in the middle. When fate catches up to him outside of Clapham, Lydia learns of the cold, hard realities of the world. Will there be anyone to save her?

A short excerpt from Jane's letter to Elizabeth:

"They were traced them as far as Clapham, but no further."

On a road from Brighton to London, 1812

Lydia had been so excited at the beginning of the night! A real adventure! Not only would she, the youngest Bennet daughter, be wed first, but hers would be the most exciting! Eloping with the charming Mr. Wickham could not be outdone by any of her sisters, even beautiful Jane!

Certainly... she had actually liked Denny a little more... and there was something so manly about Captain Carter... but every other girl wanted Wickham and he had chosen her! And he said such nice things!

Only, when she slipped out in the middle of the chilly night and she started to gush about her excitement, he had been harsh, even mean the way he shut her up and demanded all of the things he had asked for. Giving away her own traveling money and jewelry was bad enough, but she was feeling guilty about taking Harriet's pearl necklace... but George had promised that he only needed it for her to wear at their wedding. Then he would send it back. He did promise.

Riding into the night had seemed romantic too, but the trap that her Wickham had leased was an old, uncomfortable thing and the cushions were too thin. By the first ten miles the romance of flying off in the dark was fading quickly. Worse, Lieutenant Wickham, who had acted so lovey-dovey for the past week, was barely paying her any attentions now. Instead he kept glancing around nervously. Was he having trouble seeing the road even with their lanterns? That made Lydia nervous too.

Sometime after the first hour, boredom and the late night caught up to Lydia and she leaned against her betrothed an fell asleep, despite the discomfort and the terrible, metallic smell of his sweat under his regular clothes. In her stupor she wished that he would wear his regimentals... he was so much handsomer in his regiment...

…

Lydia woke with a start when George cursed. They were in a town of sorts, at least passing through, and the street lamps offered some relief from the terrible dark. But George Wickham seemed frightened, like he had seen something to alarm him?! What could it be? Were there highwaymen? "What is wrong, Wickie?"

"Shut up! Don't distract me. And stop clinging to me, girl! You're making it hard to drive!"

Lydia sat up, hurt and irritated, but there was something very frightened and frightening in his manner. She remained silent, but now she was scanning the dark past the lanterns. What has him so frightened? Are we to be slain in the night? That thought brought out all of her childhood fears, made worse as they left the lighted street of the town and hurried on into the dark between.

Just before it happened, Lydia thought she saw movement on her side. Then there was a log on the road coming out of the dark. The horse screamed in startled surprise and tried to balk, but too late. It cleared the log, mostly, though it seemed to stumble over with its hind legs. Then the front wheels of the little carriage struck and Lydia screamed as the was thrown into the dark.

It hurt awfully when her flying body first hit the hard road, then worse as she felt and heard bones snap, and then everything went black after a terrible blow to her head.

…

…

"... be lotsa fun, ole George... The Duke, 'e said 'e 'as big plans for you. 'E's gonna take you apart, bit by bit. Big soldier boy now but still can't pay 'is bills, says the Duke." The first voice she heard was a gruff, malicious, humorless teasing voice which made her want to go back to sleep... sleep... but why was there such pain? She wanted to cry, but she couldn't even make a sound.

A second voice, painfully strained but somehow familiar answered, "But I can pay! I have jewelry and coin! I also brought the girl! She's a maiden, the daughter of a gentleman! Lowry..."

The man's last word was stopped with the sound of a powerful slap, "'E likes ta be called the Duke, Georgie. Don' forget it agin!"

The second voice groaned and tried to continue, "... girl... if the Duke can't ransom her, she can bring good coin on her back... brothel..."

"Nice try, Georgie, but ya see, Davie's looked her over. Says she won' last the night. All broken. Shame. Nice little bit o' fluff. You always did find the nicest toys, Georgie, but ya keep breakin' 'em."

There was another sound of fists striking, then the sound of whimpering pain.

She was just conscious enough, even in her pain, to wonder who was talking and what they were talking about. Then darkness took her again.

Hawkins spat on the curled up form of George Wickham, then gestured for his men to toss the man onto the wagon. He looked over towards another man, "Davy, we'll go on ahead to the Duke. You make the fluff disappear. Don' need the local constable tying us to no dead toff's daughter. Shame. George is a fool, but he sure did get the ladies... Not after tonight, though."

In a cottage on the outskirts of Clapham, three days later

Lydia woke in a stupor of laudanum, but she could still feel pain all over her body. "What?" She tried to ask. "Where?"

A tired female voice answered, "Your safe in my cottage, girl, at least for the moment. So long as the Duke thinks you're dead, you'll be safe here."

"Duke?" Lydia whispered confusedly.

The woman barked a sardonic laugh, "Yes, he likes people to call him that now. Just a goon who runs the slums in London. Runs just about everything."

"Who... who are you?"

"I'm Millie. Used to be Millicent once upon a time. Just Millie now. I'm Davy's sister." She said the last with affectionate sadness, as if there was a long and sad story behind those few words.

"Davy?" Lydia mumbled, the brown cloud of a drug-induced sleep taking her again.

"The one who saved you, girl. Now no more talk. You've finally beat the fever. Now you need to sleep and mend."

"There're people searching all over London for her. Couple of toffs and some Bow Street men," a man's voice said.

Millie's voice answered, "If there's a way to return her without the Duke catching on, then well and good. Otherwise we'll have to wait until she's healed enough to go home on her own. You've already stretched your neck out too far, Davy."

"I had too, Millie. I couldn't hand over a young girl like that to them. It'd be you all over again."

The woman's voice sounded tender as she replied, "You always were meant to be a knight, little brother. The rescuer of damsels."

Davy huffed, "Some rescuer. I couldn't do much for you except watch men use you."

"But you tracked me down and put yourself under the Duke so that I would be protected from the worst sort. Our father sold me, but you gave up everything to protect me."

Lydia kept her eyes closed, pretending sleep. Then sleep took her anyway.

"Now that you're feeling a little better, we need to move you," Millie informed her a week later. Lydia was still very aware of her injuries, but the horrific headaches had eased and she was able to sit up now.

Lydia could see her nurse now. She was a careworn woman of middle years, but it was obvious that Millie had been pretty when she was younger. Lydia had been awake for more and more of each day. The woman had obviously taken care of others before, because she insisted on weaning Lydia off of the laudanum as quickly as possible, "The stuff will help at first, but then it will be worse than any pain. If you let it, it will own you. You will always think that you need more."

So Lydia was compliant... a surprise even to herself.

On the third day that she was awake for several hours she finally asked, "What happened to George?"

Millie glanced away from her sewing with a displeased expression, "Wickham? That scum is gone now."

"Gone?" Lydia asked in a small voice. She had the vaguest of memories of voices that night. The rest was a foggy nightmare.

"What were you doing with that man?"

"Eloping. We were going to marry."

Millie barked a laugh, "Wickham?! A husband? Girl, you must have a very large dowry."

Lydia felt embarrassed to say, "Not very much. Almost nothing."

"Then he wasn't intending to marry you. Miss Lydia, your mother might hide the truths of this world from you, but I will not. Your fiance tried to sell you to the Duke to pay off his debts and save his own skin. My brother heard it all."

Lydia wanted to throw a fit in denial, but she couldn't find the energy. Besides, it somehow seemed as if she had heard something like that. "I want to go home."

"And I would like to send you home, Lydia, but I don't know if your family will have you."

"What? Of course they will!"

"You truly do not understand what you have done, do you? Girl, I don't know who you were staying with, but you left their care and ran off with a man before you were married. There're rules about those things for your type. By now everyone in your neighborhood knows. You have not only ruined yourself, but everyone else in your family. Do you have sisters?"

"Four."

"Are any of them unwed?"

"All of them."

"Then they will probably be that way forever unless they marry below their station. No gentleman will want them now."

These factual and straightforward words went right past all of Lydia' usual filters and straight to her heart. I've ruined myself and all of my sisters... Lydia laid back down and cried herself to sleep. Millie, watching her, could only shake her head.

When Lydia woke later that same day, Millie renewed her earlier statement, "We need to get you somewhere else, and soon. I only have this hovel because the Duke's men need a place to hide when they work this area. If any of them show up, then the Duke'll know that Davy lied."

"Where?"

"South, I think. Davy's working on it. Until then, I'll show you the hiding-hole under the floor. The Duke's men built it, but nobody ever uses it unless a constable comes looking. Long as they don't know that you're there, you'll be safe. This cottage is placed back like this so that I can see anyone coming a full five minutes before they arrive. If I say hide, do so right away." It wasn't easy because Lydia was still barely mobile. They practiced it until she could hide in under three minutes.

This caution proved wise the very next day when two men came to stay. They were gruff and rude and demanding. Lydia also heard enough to know that her friend and protector was fully under their power. Thankfully they were only there for part of the morning and then they moved on. Millie could not hide her embarrassment for what the girl must have heard, but it served to also open Lydia's eyes to the harsh world.

Another man came the day after, but Millie was pleased to introduce Lydia to her brother. Lydia thought him surprisingly good looking and young. He only stayed for an hour to share about the arrangements that he had made.

Two weeks later the two ladies stepped into an old carriage and let it take them south. While they traveled, Millie finally told her story. "My father was a landowner like yours. I won't call him a gentleman. A true gentleman takes care of his family. My mother died when we were little, Davy and I. Davy's three years my junior. My father liked to gamble and visit the brothels. When he ran out of property to lose at the tables, he staked me. I was seventeen. He lost. The first I knew about it, two big men were dragging me out of our home in the middle of the night.

"I will not describe the next few years, Lydia. You need your eyes opened, but I won't talk about that." She was lost in her own memories... or perhaps nightmares for a few minutes before continuing, "Then one day Davy found me. He was off at school when it happened and when he got back, Father wouldn't tell him what he had done. It was only after three years, when the man got drunk one night and started talking, that Davy learned the truth.

"He left home the very next day in search of me. It took him another six months to find me, but when he tried to buy me back or sneak me away, Lowry... the man who calls himself the Duke... caught us and had us dragged in front of him. You've seen Davy. He's a big, strong, strapping man. He was still mostly a boy then, but Lowry had a use for him. Made him a deal: he would put me in a better establishment with better clients, but Davy had to pledge his life to the man. I would have told him no, but there was little choice by then.

"Davy has had to work for the man ever since while I kept doing what I was doing. We survived. Then I got too old to bring in much business and the Duke set me up in the cottage to play hostess for whatever his men are up to in Clapham."

"But you're leaving?" Lydia was sad and sickened by the story, but now she finally understood how much danger the brother and sister were risking for her.

"It was our plan anyway, so don't worry. Davy doesn't have to do the Duke's dirty work anymore, now that I am... not working. It hasn't been easy, but we saved up passage. We're going to take a ship to somewhere else as soon as we can."

Lydia felt selfish for wondering what would happen to her now. Interestingly enough, it never occurred to her that she probably would not have been concerned about seeming selfish before.

The journey took four days, with them staying at the meanest of inns along the way. Lydia had the awareness to wonder how the coachman fit into the picture when she saw the man speaking almost affectionately with Millie, but she didn't ask. Finally they found themselves in a port town tucked between cliffs. The fishing cottage where they stayed was even smaller than the one where Lydia had first woken. The handsome Davy made his appearance a week later.

Although Lydia was still mending, Millie had demonstrated an unexpected knowledge about how to care for injuries and set bones. The journey had been difficult, but Lydia made the trip without further injury. She was even able to move around some now.

Lydia did not know what would happen next, so was surprised when Davy sat down at the table to talk with her alone. "Miss Lydia..." he almost seemed shy as he tried to find his words, "We have passage on a ship for Hudson Bay, leaving tomorrow."

"Oh!" Lydia said quietly, feeling lost and sad. They were going to leave her. What would she do?

"If... if you wanted to, you could go with us. I found some of the coin and jewelry that fell out of Wickham's pockets in the accident..." Lydia felt a momentary surge of anger and wanted to say that it was her money and jewelry, but she did not. They had not needed to save her or care for her. He had not needed to do so much.

Davy continued, having difficulty finding the right words, "Millie is going as the wife of Reggie... that's the man who drove your coach. He's been sweet on her for a long time. But for you to go..."

"What is it, Davy?"

"The captain is a strict sort. He will not let a young lady travel on a ship full of men alone. But if you were my wife..."

"Are you asking me to marry you, Davy?" Lydia found the idea surprisingly appealing. This man had risked himself and his sister to save her.

"Yes?"

"Then yes. I will be your wife." Lydia was very pleased with the tender kiss that followed her answer.

Before departing, Lydia thought of her grieving family and wrote a short letter to offer some hope and ask for forgiveness.

Longbourn, 1813

It is not the purpose of this story to detail all that happened with the rest of the Bennet family. But eleven months after Lydia vanished from Brighton, a second letter arrived, this time from Hallifax:

Dear Father, Mother, and sisters,

I have no right to ask this, but I hope that you have found it in your heart to forgive me for the terrible thing that I did. I also hope and pray that my foolish and selfish action did not hurt my family too much.

As I wrote before boarding the ship, I married a man by the name of Davy Freeman, who saved me when the carriage I was in with George Wickham was attacked. I was very injured and barely able to move for many weeks, but Davy's dear sister Millie took care of me and helped me to heal. They were preparing to move to Hallifax, but delayed for my sake. While they were taking care of me, I fell in love with Davy. Not the kind of selfish love I thought I had for George, but real, true love.

When I was able to move again and the terrible headaches passed, I wanted to come home to you. Then I finally realized what I had done to my family and the shame I must have brought down on you. After much discussion with the Freemans, I made the choice not to return. It is better for all of you if you can tell others that I am dead rather than fallen.

Please know that Mr. Freeman is the very best of men. He is warm, caring, hardworking, and terribly handsome. When we arrived in Hallifax, he found a position right away in a shipping office and he has already been promoted. He takes good care of me and treats me well. In four more months you will be grandparents.

You may have noticed that my writing and grammar have improved. Millie, our sister, is very intelligent like Lizzie and Mary. She saw how poorly I wrote and began giving me lessons. I am no longer the silliest girl with Millie's help and teaching.

If you do not send a reply, I will understand. What I did to my family cannot be forgiven. But please know that I love you all and wish that I had been a better daughter and sister.

Sincerely,

Lydia Freeman

Lydia did receive replys, not just from her father and mother, but from her sisters as well. In the following years it was not always easy to correspond, but there was always at least a letter from each every year.

Lydia was overjoyed fifteen years later when her sisters Elizabeth Darcy, Katherine Harper, and their husbands and children made the journey to see her. By then David Freeman was a partner in a very successful and prominent shipping company, so they were able to host both families comfortably in their large and fashionable house. Many tears were spilled during that visit, but there was also a great deal of healing. Lydia told her two visiting sisters the true tale, even though she left out Millicent Newman's full tale.

Millicent's husband Reginald passed away fifteen years after their marriage. They never had any children, so Lydia insisted that her dearest friend and mentor move in with her and Millie's brother. The three of them watched the Freeman children grow, thrive, marry, and have children of their own. Theirs was a happy home, perhaps some recompense for the many years that had been stolen away from the two siblings.

AN: I began this story years ago, but could never quite get the right focus. I realize that it is dark, but the true story, for me at least, is how two siblings survived despite it all, kept their characters, and even managed to save someone else. And even Lydia should get a happy ending every once in a while.

You probably noticed the surnames Freeman and Newman. It seemed fitting that the men would choose such names after escaping their life of near slavery. Once, many years ago, I conducted research on what happened to many immigrants coming to America back in the 17 and 1800's. Unless they had funds in hand and a plan, they might easily be picked off by men like the Duke in this story and forced into servitude. I am sure that many long-time New York City families might have tales of exactly that sort. But I would also like to believe that there are as many good people as the bad, people who want to help others to rise, not fall.

No more soapbox. Thanks for reading.

LFU