"What do you mean?" asked Lydia of her two elder sisters.
"He is gone," said Kitty, "He sold his commission and left. Mr. Darcy and his cousin are trying to find him."
"But surely he has only gone to get a license," said Lydia.
"I do not know if he ever intended to marry you," said Lizzy.
"What do you mean?" asked Lydia, "He loves me! He said so!"
"Then why would he not have simply courted you properly," said Kitty.
"He has no fortune. Once the five thousand was settled on me," said Lydia, "he said we could wed."
"Five thousand apparently was not tempting enough," said Kitty.
"He will come back! You will see," said Lydia, before ordering them out of her room.
"Do you truly think he only meant to dally with her?" Kitty asked Lizzy later that evening.
"I think so. Mr. Denny is the younger son of a wealthy gentleman. I doubt he could have been induced into marriage for such a portion. I had my doubts but thought perhaps he had debts he assumed Bingley would cover," said Lizzy.
"Five thousand is enough to live on," said Kitty, "If one is not spendthrift."
"It is," said Lizzy, "but I can think of no other reason for his disappearance."
"Do you think that Papa and Darcy frightened him?" asked Kitty.
"I do not see why he should be frightened away. Darcy told me what was said. It was nothing more than might be expected," said Elizabeth.
"You think he wants to marry an heiress," said Kitty, questioningly.
"I do not know what he wishes. All I know is that he has gone and with no word to no one. I cannot think that will end well for Lydia."
"Do you think she will be ruined?" asked Kitty.
"I do not think so," said Elizabeth, "We do not yet know if anyone saw. Even if they did, Darcy has promised that he will not let us be ruined by them."
"He will buy her a husband," said Kitty with understanding.
"If needed, but I think it most likely that he will simply drag Denny back here and force the marriage, at gun point if needed."
"Poor Lydia," said Kitty.
"I feel terrible that I did not tell her what Sarah imparted to me. I did not wish to tarnish Sarah's reputation. You know how Lydia talks. I never thought she would be so foolish! She very well might have ruined us if Darcy had decided to forsake me."
"What of Bingley? And Andy?"
"Bingley likely would help us, it is true. Lord Barlow, well, the earl yet lives. Do you know what he might have in ready funds?"
"I do not know," admitted Kitty, "I only know that his estate gives him two thousand a year."
"He could very well have a similar situation to that of Papa," said Elizabeth, "which means he would find it very difficult to fund such a thing."
Kitty nodded in understanding and said, "Yes, Andy said my dowry must be put towards any daughter's dowries, if the earl should disapprove and live for a great while longer. Two thousand is not enough that we will be able to save a vast amount."
Elizabeth sighed, and lay back on her bed, "Now we must just wait to see who it is that Lydia shall wed."
"There is no sign?" asked Darcy of the servant who had been directing the men sent to inns and posting houses around London.
"No one by that name."
"And his family's home?" asked Darcy.
"Empty. Unless you wish me to go to his family's country house, but that would take more than a week of travel."
"I will let you know," said Darcy.
The servant left, leaving Lord Barlow and Darcy to their port.
"Are you certain that Richard shall know someone willing?" asked Darcy.
"It may take more than her dowry to induce them, but I am certain," said Lord Barlow.
"How much more?" asked Darcy.
"It depends on the gentleman," said Lord Barlow.
"I suppose we must wait and see," said Darcy, "But I will spare no expense."
"Nor will I," said Lord Barlow, taking a gulp of port.
The next day, no news came from London to Longbourn except a note to Mr. Bennet that said there had been none. Mr. Denny's intimates within the regiment knew very little of the man, except to say that he was the second son of Mr. Denny of Denny Hill in Westmorland.
Kitty, who had not been able to speak with her betrothed since the incident, was most anxious. Lizzy had the reassurance from Darcy that he would not turn from her no matter the outcome, but Kitty had no such certainty. Kitty learned that Maria Lucas- who had been crying on the balcony because her brother Henry had scolded her most forcefully for her own forward behavior with an officer - had seen the couple. She swore to Kitty she had told no one but her, yet if Maria had seen, they did not know who else had. Maria had known it was Lydia from her gown but did not know the officer. She supposed it to be Mr. Denny, for he had been Lydia's favourite, but could not see him clearly.
"Are you well, Kitty?" asked Lizzy on the following day, when she came upon Kitty looking most distressed.
"If they have not found him, it is too late," said Kitty.
"What do you mean?" asked Lizzy, confused.
"Lord Barlow and Darcy cannot miss the wedding between Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss de Bourgh. Bingley might continue in the search, but I cannot suppose that it would do much good if they have not yet located them. All is either righted or all is lost."
"I told you that Darcy would find her a bridegroom," said Lizzy with a frown.
"But surely such a thing would be known! She may be saved from ruin, but it shall be a patched-up affair that our neighbours shall laugh at! Lord Barlow will not wish to connect himself with a family that has such scandal."
"You cannot know Lord Barlow's opinion as of yet. If he was willing to be disowned for you, surely that will not change because of our sister's marriage. Even if the circumstances are known, so long as she is not completely ruined, I am certain he shall return."
"He never asked Papa," said Kitty, "He meant to do so on the day Mr. Denny disappeared. Nothing is formalised. He can bow out so very easily and I cannot blame him. He is better known than Darcy due to his title. It would be gossiped about. Our family would become infamous!"
"I believe, dearest," said Elizabeth, "that you may have inherited Mama's nerves."
"Perhaps I have, but my future happiness is at stake."
"Trust in your betrothed, Kitty," said Elizabeth. She went to Kitty's vanity and picked up the hairbrush, before sitting beside her sister on the bed. She began to brush her sister's hair, singing a lullaby that their aunt often sung to her children. Kitty relaxed a little.
"I think you must rest," said Elizabeth, "for you are over-wrought. I will tell Sarah that you shall have dinner on a tray in your room."
"Very well," said Kitty, turning onto her side and away from her sister. Elizabeth left, leaving Kitty alone with her thoughts.
Elizabeth reflected in the difference between her relationship with Darcy and Kitty's with Lord Barlow. While Kitty would be her superior in consequence, Elizabeth thought the young Lord impulsive. He might be timid, but he was not so steady as Darcy. Lord Barlow had not sent Kitty any reassurance, even just a sentence in the note to Mr. Bennet. Darcy always went out of his way to reassure Elizabeth.
Their friendship was most important, for it was the foundation on which their relationship was built. She had time to come to know him intimately as a person before she ever considered him a suitor. It might have caused some pain upon Darcy's proposal that he had fallen for her first, but Elizabeth felt herself reassured that she had loved him first as a friend. Even if their attraction should fade, she would never have a relationship like that of her parents. No matter what occurred, they should be happy.
Elizabeth sighed and laid down on her own bed. She needed Darcy to return soon so she might tell him that she knew her mind now. She loved him and she wanted to marry him.
"What is this?" cried Lady Catherine.
Servants were moving all of her things out of the house and onto carts. None of them paused in their work to answer her. She stormed into Rosings and began to look for her daughter. Spying Colonel Fitzwilliam, she settled for him instead.
"What is this?" she asked, gesturing wildly towards the men carrying a chest of drawers.
"They are removing your things," said Colonel Fitzwilliam.
"At whose orders?" cried Lady Catherine.
"Mine and your daughter's," said he with a smirk. She wanted to slap him but refrained.
"Why?" she said curtly.
"Because you are no longer mistress of Rosings and have not been for some time. Your daughter, as she and I are to be married on the morrow, decided that you should move to the dower house."
"The dower house!" she exclaimed.
"You are, after all, the dowager," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, "Besides, there was hardly room for all the guests with all of this furniture. Everything rightly belonging to you will be sent to the dower house. Much of what remains will be sold. Anne's tastes and mine are much simpler than yours." He gestured to a gold-plated clock that had been bought within the last three years so technically belonged to Anne. It was therefore headed to an auction in London.
"You cannot! I will speak to Anne!" cried Lady Catherine.
"Do so," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, "I will escort you to her."
He offered her his arm with a flourish, which she begrudgingly took. He led her up the stairs and to Anne's private sitting room. Lady Catherine had never liked this room, for Anne refused to let her mother's influence be seen in the furnishings. The cream and light pink wallpaper, light-colored draperies, and simple - but finely made - wooden furniture was not at all impressive in Lady Catherine's view. The only hint of gold was the lamp at Anne's bedside, which she had brought up from another room of the house.
"You are sending me to the dower house?" Lady Catherine exclaimed to her daughter.
"I am," said Anne calmly.
"Have I not cared for you? Have I not tended you when you have been ill?" asked Lady Catherine.
"You have made me ill, Mother," said Anne.
"I have not!" Lady Catherine exclaimed.
"The tonics that you forced on me even when I felt well. The insistence that I should not walk about too much lest I tire myself. The smothering attention and spies you set on me. I am certain it all contributed to my illness. I know I am not strong and there is no pretending my weak constitution, but I have lived half a life, Mother. I want to live and be happy!"
"You blame it all on me, then?" asked Lady Catherine.
"I do not. Yet I think you cannot live here if I am to improve. I have ensured that there are enough servants at the dower house to see to your comfort. Rosings will be for me and my husband," said Anne firmly, "You shall not visit unless you are invited or it is one of my at-home days."
Lady Catherine sputtered, her words failing her. Anne called for a servant to escort her mother to her new home.