At tea time that afternoon, Jane, Charlotte, Lizzy, and Lydia were all gathered in the grandest of the Darcys's several parlors, in the hopes that such excessive opulence, as was in line with her own tastes, would induce Lydia into a stream of chatter.

It worked. Within an hour, she had revealed that they had been in the woods of Pemberley for several weeks, that Lydia had been quite put out by having to clean and cook, that Mr. Wickham had gone through an extensive amount of rum and whiskey, and that another gentleman had been staying with them, but had barely spoken to Lydia, and she could not recall his name. Elizabeth couldn't help but think that, if anyone else had lived with a man she wasn't related to for several weeks and not remember what his name was, it would have been quite remarkable. It did not surprise her from Lydia. It also did not surprise her that she, Charlotte, and Jane had barely had an opportunity to say anything.

When Elizabeth repeated the conversation to her husband later that night, he tried to hide how alarmed he was about the presence of a second, unknown man working together with Wickham, but his wife saw the flicker in his eyes, and she certainly felt him unconsciously gripping her hand harder.

"That's all she could tell you? A gentleman, spending time with Wickham, drinking and planning something?" he asked.

"That's all she would tell me, and I doubt that she is clever enough to know what information to withhold."

"I can't argue with that, but I need to know more. Who would work with Wickham? What could they possibly be trying to do?"

"We could interview Lydia day in and day out for weeks, we won't learn anything else, and we can't keep her here indefinitely without Wickham noticing. We're going to have to go back to the cottage, William, and confront one of them."

"We? Mrs. Darcy, you seem to forget that you promised to remain indoors until we solve this mystery. Do you really think I'm going to allow you and the future heir Pemberley walk into the woods and search for an unknown man with intentions that cannot possibly be good?"

Elizabeth sighed, "I suppose you're right. Heir, though? What makes you so certain that it's a boy?"

"Darcys have boys first, my love, for the last five generations. What do you think of the name Bennet?"

"Bennets have girls, darling. What do you think of the name Elinor? I read it in a quite charming book recently."

"I think Elinor would be a lovely name for our second child, but I don't think our son would like it very well."

"That's not a relevant concern, darling. Elinor Marianne?"

"Elinor Elizabeth. I mean, Bennet. Bennet Charles?"

"I would favor Bennet William, if it was of concern. Elinor Elizabeth…too alliterative, don't you think?"

"I think it has a lovely flow. It's only fitting that she has your name, love, since I hope daughter will look exactly like me, and she should have something of you."

"That's an original sentiment. You're very handsome, darling, but I'm not sure your features would suit a girl."

"Exactly. If she looks like you, in sixteen years I'll be spending all my time in the study interviewing all the men trying to convenience me they're good enough for her. If she looks like me, I'll still be able to spend time with you and the other children."

"I think you underestimate yourself, Mr. Darcy. And, loathe as I am to admit it, you are right, I need to stay here. But take someone with you, William, I can't let you walk into danger. Elinor needs her father."

"I swear to you, Elizabeth, Bennet will have me for a long, long time. I'll take some of the footmen, and maybe also send for Charles."