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WARNING - this chapter addresses some distressing scenes that some might find difficult to read or triggering. Topics such as substance abuse, addiction and light depictions of violence. Please do not read if any of these things will be hard for you.
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Chapter 26
Less than a week later the entire Bennet family found themselves residing at Darcy House in London. The search for Lydia and Mr Wickham had taken Mr Bennet and Mr Darcy from Longbourn to Brighton and finally to London. Though, their efforts had born little fruit, they could at least take comfort that the elopement had taken them no further than capitol city.
Before their departure Mrs Bennet had railed at Mr Bennet for forcing her from her home. Arguing that they should leave her with her daughters at Longbourn in case Lydia and Mr Wickham should turn up there. Mr Bennet's refusal had brooked now argument, neither was he amenable to asking Mrs Hearsay to keep vigil over their home or coming as companion to his wife. He emphatically refused that woman anywhere near their current situation, adding to that he made the declaration that none of his daughters beneath the age of eighteen were to be allowed out in society and any pin money will be put toward tutelage to turn them into respectable, demure ladies of sense. Since Mr Bennet's speech Mrs Bennet had been uncharacteristically quiet and refusing to leave her rooms in the family wing of Mr and Mrs Darcy home.
The evening prior the entire family including Mrs Bennet who had been joined by Mr Gardiner, who has some unfortunate news to impart regarding his financial troubles. He had been left with no choice but to sell his warehouses and give up the lease on his townhouse in order to satisfy his creditors. He informed the family that Mr Darcy offered them refuge at his estate in Scotland and that for the time being this will be the best option with another child on the way. They would be leaving the following week.
After Mr Gardiner left Mrs Bennet dissolved into a fit of hysteria. Sobbing of the many changes and downfall of their family.
"Mr Bennet do something!" she had cried. "How are we to bare the shame?"
The rest of the women had retired to see to Mrs Bennet's comfort and calm her, whilst the Mr Bennet and Mr Darcy had remained until the early hours sharing little conversation, both too preoccupied with their own thoughts.
The morning following as Darcy was moving silently about his chamber trying to locate his pocket watch, he heard a small sigh from the bed. Turning he saw Elizabeth, hair mussed from sleep and nightgown slipping from one shoulder, peering up at him.
"Good morning husband. Are you and Papa leaving soon to search for this Mrs Young you mentioned?" said Elizabeth looking over her husband form in the morning sunlight, peeking through the gap in the curtains. He was dressed only in his breeches, slung low upon his hips, indicating that his valet had just finished seeing to his morning shave.
"Good morning, my beautiful wife. You should be resting." He said coming to lean over her and pressing a light kiss to the tip of her nose.
"How is it you look so good in the morning? It is entirely unfair." She murmured against his lips running her fingernails in a caress across his shoulders and down his back.
"Temptress!" he said moving to pull away.
"But not quite tempting enough…" Elizabeth said with a worried frown.
He brought one of his hands up to cup her cheek and look into her eyes assessing.
"I am worried for you. It has not gone unnoticed that you have been scarcely touching your food and you have lost some weight."
Placing her hand over his she smiled reassuringly. "William, I am fine. It has always been my way when I am stressed. I lose my appetite, but I promise I will make a stronger effort to take better care of myself."
"See to it that you do, because I will be taking note of your efforts."
"Is that so?" she whispered bringing one of her legs up to rest over his hip, affectively pulling his body flush against hers.
"Indeed. I take my responsibilities very seriously. Know that there will be consequences should I find that you falter in this undertaking." He warned eliciting a giggle from her as he claimed her lips in a deep drugging kiss.
The sound of the door opening, and the sound of more than one feminine gasp had Mr Darcy pulling away and turning to shield his wife, who was pulling the covers up to her chin. In the doorway stood Jane blushing profusely at seeing Mr Darcy in his current state of undress with Elizabeth in his bed. Kitty peeked over her shoulder eyes wide and mouth agape.
Mr Darcy rushed forward snatching his shirt from yesterday from the back of an armchair and throwing it on, his concern evident in his expression.
"F-Forgive me, Lizzy… Mr Darcy. We would not have intruded had it not been a matter of such urgency…" stuttered Jane.
"That is quite all right. Is something amiss?" he asked stopping before her.
Struggling from the bed, Elizabeth appeared at her husband's side. "Jane what has happened?"
"I was in the kitchens seeing that Mama's tea was prepared just as she likes, you know how she is when her nerves are unsettled. And a messenger appeared saying that he has a note for Mr Darcy, and he will not hand it over until he receives his payment."
Whilst Jane was speaking Mr Darcy had moved into his dressing room and reappeared now attired in a waistcoat, jacket and roughly tying his cravat without any proper style to it.
"Did you say the messenger was in the kitchens?" he asked Jane.
"Yes sir. He is being rather aggressive and asking for quite a large sum-"
Jane cut off as Mr Darcy strode from the room and Elizabeth fled to her bedchamber through the connecting door. Torn between what to do she finally followed after Elizabeth with Kitty on her heels.
"Quickly, somebody help me with the buttons on my gown." Said Elizabeth presenting her back to her sisters.
"Do you think it is from Lydia and Mr Wickham?" came Kitty's small voice near the door.
"That is my hope." Said Jane.
"But what if it is bad news? That man was quite frightening." Asked Kitty her voice quivering slightly.
Elizabeth grasped her hands reassuringly, "Come now, we do not know that for certain. Let us make haste, regardless of the messenger and his attitude he potentially has information that could take us to Lydia."
The three of them raced down towards the kitchens only to find that the staff had resumed with preparing breakfast, with no members of the family in sight.
"Mrs Potts, can you tell me where my husband is?" Elizabeth asked their cook.
Startled Mrs Potts sketched a quick curtsey, wiping her hands on her apron. "Beggin' your pardon Mrs Darcy, I did not hear you come in."
"That is quite all right. Do you know where Mr Darcy went?" Elizabeth asked a second time.
"He is with Mr Bennet in his study, Mrs Darcy." Answered Mrs Potts.
Thanking the cook Elizabeth spun on her heel and made for her husband's study. When they got there the door flung open and both her husband and father nearly barrelled into them.
"Well?" she and Jane asked together.
With a sigh Mr Bennet stepped aside and gestured them inside.
"Who was the letter from Papa?" asked Kitty once they were all seated within the large study.
"It was from Lydia. She has written to us barely making much sense. It seems that she the letter was written without Mr Wickham's knowledge and the man who delivered the message was told he could demand any price for his services. Lydia knows that she is in London but does not know where she is, though she has tried her best describe her surroundings as best she can."
"But what does that mean? How is it she could get this man to deliver the message but that he could not tell us of her location?" demanded Elizabeth.
"Lizzy, he would not give us his name and as he demanded the payment before he gave us the letter then ran off as soon as the coin was in his hand. Mr Darcy had the forethought to arrange for a couple of footmen follow the man discreetly and they will report back to us once they have discovered where the man resides." He said with a look of thanks to Mr Darcy who nodded in acknowledgement.
"May I see the letter?" asked Elizabeth.
"The letter is a distressing thing to look at my dear. It is a torn piece of parchment, and it appears that she used coal or burnt chippings to write it her message. Here." Mr Bennet said handing it to her from his breast pocket.
"Papa,
It's Lydia. I am trapped in this room and Mr Whickham was here, but he is absent most of the time. The owner of the building will not tell me where I am or allow me to leave the room. There is a tavern called The Branch and [writing ineligible] outside. It is very loud here and [more ineligible writing].
Please come and get me. I want to come home.
Lydia"
Looking up Elizabeth gestured widely, "But much of this is smudged and hard to make out. It is giving us much without revealing anything at all!" she despaired.
"Lizzy," said Darcy placing a hand on her shoulder, "It has given us enough. Once we see where the footmen follow the messenger too, we can ask around for any business beginning with 'The Branch," and we shall find Miss Lydia."
"Forgive me, the last thing you need is me adding to your distress." Said Elizabeth. "Papa, does Mama know? And Mary?"
"Your mother does not know, and I expect it to stay that way." Answered Mr Bennet giving Kitty a pointed look.
"Why do you keep doing that, Papa. Singling me out like that, I am not the one who ran away from Brighton!" sniffed Kitty.
"Enough! You will speak to me with the respect owed to the head of our family. I am your father and if I speak to you in a certain way, it is because I feel it necessary. Is that understood?" snapped Mr Bennet.
Kitty said nothing, choosing to glare at the floor.
"Is that understood, Catherine Bennet?" Mr Bennet repeated in sterner tones.
"Yes sir." She finally acknowledged.
"Good. Now, leave us. There is no need for you to be privy to an adult conversation." Mr Bennet added.
With sob, Kitty stood and fled the room.
"Papa, I –" began Jane.
"Don't Jane. Perhaps if I had been firmer earlier on, we would not find ourselves in this mess!"
Jane nodded and instead turned to Mr Darcy. "Do we have a plan?" she asked.
"We are hopeful that we shall locate Lydia in the next day or so, and once we have, I will have my cousins aid us in retrieving her." Said Mr Darcy.
"I will join you." Stated Elizabeth. "And before you tell me no Papa, I am no longer under your protection. I am now a married woman and the only woman suitable to attend this matter properly. Who knows what Lydia has been subjected too or what comfort she will need?" She added vehemently.
"Very well, on your head be it Mr Darcy." Said Mr Bennet gruffly, standing to leave. A knock on the door stopped him in his steps. "Are we never to leave." He moaned.
"Enter." Called Mr Darcy.
The footman Peter's entered a little breathlessly.
"What is it, Peter's?" asked Mr Darcy.
"We followed the messenger into , Mr Darcy but we lost him. I fear he realised he was being followed."
Mr Bennet who had been helping himself to brandy, slammed his tumbler against the sideboard loudly causing the footman to jump. "You lost him?!" demanded Mr Bennet.
"Yes, Sir. But upon our return home we saw Mr Wickham entering a rundown building –"
"Are you certain it was him?" cut in Elizabeth.
"Very certain, Mrs Darcy." Answered Peters.
"We've found them!" gasped Jane.
"Peter's send for the carriage. You will take us to Wickham right away. I assume you left Davies to watch in case he moves?" commanded Mr Darcy.
"That's correct, Sir. I have already sent for one of the unmarked carriages necessary for that part of town."
"Very good, thank you Peter's for your efficiency." Said Darcy dismissing the footman. "We shall stop at Matlock house. I have already instructed my cousins to be there and await further instruction."
"I shall go and make sure, Mama is resting. With your permission Papa, I would like to tell Mary of the new developments. It would not do for her to be kept in the dark when all her other sisters are aware." Said Jane standing.
"Very well. I suppose she is the most sensible of the bunch. Just be sure word does not get back to your mother. It would not be good for her or us should we raise false hopes." Warned Mr Bennet raising his brows.
"You have my word." Assured Jane. Then turning to Elizabeth and grasping her hands. "Please be careful."
The sisters exchanged a hug before Jane left Elizabeth alone with her husband and father.
"Elizabeth, I think it might be better-" began Mr Darcy.
"I have made my decision, William. We are equals in this marriage."
"It is not a question of equality, but your safety. St. Giles is a dangerous place, full unsavoury character. Most men of our society fear it and they are not wrong to do so."
"My youngest sister is there, and I will be there to embrace her when we find her." Elizabeth vowed.
"We do not have time for this." Grumbled Mr Bennet under his breath and leaving the room.
"He is not wrong." Added Elizabeth. "I shall grab my things."
William grabbed her arm, "Lizzy, please see sense. You haven't eaten properly or slept properly in days."
"Neither have you."
"Don't be difficult with me. I understand your wanting to be there, but if something should happen and you get hurt…"
"I won't."
"You cannot guarantee that. Wickham mixes with the wrong side of society."
"I promise I will not do anything you advise me not to. I will not even speak unless it is to Lydia and I will simply take her and wait with her in the carriage while you and my father see to Mr Wichkham." She tried to reason.
"But we have not found Lydia yet. We have only found Wickham, which will just leave you sitting in the carriage."
"Please…" She begged.
For a moment she feared William would not relent, but finally his expression softened, and he gave a curt nod.
"Should I feel that you are at any point under threat of being hurt, I will not hesitate to bodily remove you myself." He cautioned.
Elizabeth went onto the tips of her toes and kissed him hard on the cheek, before rushing to put on her outer garments.
Wickham observed the drifting in spirals acrid blue cloud of pipe smoke, he attempted to puff rings toward the warped ceiling of the smoke house he had found. He had sworn he was going to get clean and the first morning had gone so well. Wickham had maintained a vigil next to Lydia's bedside waiting for her to wake up. When he finally noticed her begin to stir, he felt relief flood his entire being… until she had begun to scream the place down. There had been a brief struggle, but the poor thing was so traumatised that she didn't even look as though she recognised him. In the end he had gone to the owner of the boarding house to charm some laudanum out of her and drug Lydia in order to get her to London.
The Laudanum had been a blessing. Wickham had found it the only way to deal with Miss Lydia to not draw attention to them. He had considered letting her go, after all she was not his responsibility, though, now that she had seen his face, he would surely be the one to blame. When he had tried to reason with her to see what she recalled from her final night in Brighton, Lydia had had no recollection of Denny, or any of it – making him the villain!
Wickham had found himself in such a state that he simply needed to take the edge off. This would be the last time he indulged in some of the pipe. He had gone for almost two full days without any, he was not an addict! Wickham just needed to visit his favourite smoke den one last time in order to walk away and not turn back. He had left Lydia two days ago and asked Mrs Young to keep dosing her with laudanum with her meals until his return. He had been only a few streets away from the boarding house feeling his skin crawling from the slight breeze and his eyes stinging from the glaring sun, when he had seen the small ring glinting on the floor in the alley way. What was this if not a clear sign that he needed a little more smoke before he would be ready to face what was certain to be a rough ride.
He had not hesitated to turn around and head back to the poppy den, it was about time he had some good luck. Nothing had been in his favour since he had walked away from Pemberley. Even worse since he had joined the blasted militia. Now he was wanted for desertion and absconding with a gentleman's daughter, not to mention the numerous debt collectors he had following him all over the country! Shaking his head he ducked into the den, tripping slightly as he wondered which of his troubles, he would prefer to catch up with him first.
"Wickham, back so soon! You know you can't 'ave any more pipe if I wiv'out payment first." Came the unmistakable voice of the den's owner Willy Simmonds.
"Willy, no need to worry my man!" Wickham replied flourishing the ring before his eyes.
Frowning, Willy crossed his arms and looked at the ring, "Which poor bastard d'you fleece that off?" he asked. "I don't want no trouble 'ere."
"Won it in a bet, Willy."
"Hmmm, I 'aint certain I don't want a little somefink extra…" he said his foul breath washing over Wickham who had to work not to flinch away in disgust.
"Not this time, I am afraid. This is worth enough to purchase me a full pipe for the rest of the afternoon and then some."
"We'll see after you get randy after you been suckin' on that pipe." Willy taunted as he slapped Wickham's bottom before walking away.
Wickham knew he should just leave now; he had offered favours plenty of times to both men and women when he needed a hit and had no blunt. Many who frequented the den's laid with members of the same sex, when high on the opioid it was hard care where you were getting off, or to clearly see what limb belonged to whom. Unfortunately, he had been down on his luck so frequently that he had resorting to servicing Willy one time too many. He was thankful that at least nobody knew he preferred the company of men over women and once he gave this up for good, he would no longer be able to use this as an excuse for his affliction. Wickham cursed that he had not found a rich gentleman he could have kept a discreet relationship with and then he could have made certain he maintained a full purse but with a respectable façade.
In fact, charm was his only strength. He'd spent a lifetime perfecting a genuine-sounding laugh, a grin to win over the hardest of hearts. He knew how to put others at ease and make them feel important. In the beginning, his finely honed skills were his armor, a way to ensure he was never lonely or felt out of place "to you George Darcy!
An undeterminable amount of time later Wickham lay upon his back staring at the drifting clouds of acrid blue pipe smoke hovering near the ceiling, his hand in his breeches and resting on his groin. The den was encased in familiar and comforting glow which meant he had reached near oblivion.
"Darcy's 'ere," called Willy, his face distorting above him. "And he don't look none too pleased."
Wickham's head lifted, dislodging the person who had passed out beside him. "Excellent."
"I don't want no trouble like last time 'e was 'ere." Snapped Willy.
"I doubt you could do much to dissuade him from doing as he pleases." Mumbled Wickham feeling the bile rise in his throat as he recognised that he was going to have to face his old friend before he was ready to and when he was at a disadvantage.
Willy snorted, "He's like all the other posh toffs. Wouldn't know how to 'andle himself in a real fight. Too scared of getting hit and messin' their pretty faces!"
"If you say so. Do not forget who grew up with the man. Trust me when I tell you that he knows how to handle himself. Be it swords, pistols or fist to fist combat." Wickham listed off with a hiccough as he dragged in more puff on the pipe in quick succession until he had the sensation of weightlessness.
"What are you his proud mother?! You sound besotted!"
Suddenly, Willy disappeared, and Darcy face swam before him.
"Ah, my old Frieeeeeend," he screeched as he felt his body leave the floor as he was hauled to his feet.
"Where is Miss Lydia?" Darcy growled shoving him into the wall.
Sliding down Wickham, vaguely felt his head connect with the wall but couldn't understand why he could not feel the pain that should accompany it. "Who?" he wheezed.
Wickham felt a restriction across his throat and struggled to breath before he discerned the face of Mr Bennet leaning over him. He tried to bat away his hand, but his fingers could not quite find his hand and instead he was pulling at his bottom lip.
"Where is my daughter you cur? Tell me at once!" Mr Bennet snarled.
"Please, have mercy." Came the chocked sob from Wickham, who looked as startled as Mr Bennet was disgusted by such a plea.
"Mr Bennet, he is too far gone. He cannot make sense of anything." Came a familiar voice.
Suddenly the restriction across his throat was gone and he gulped in breath after breath, though could not seem to make his lungs release the air. Sharp pains pierced his lungs and his hands flailed around him until man bent down before him and he grabbed onto the lapels of his coat.
"Wickham, tell us where you are staying so that we may help you."
Wickham squinted. It was Darcy. Darcy always looked after him in the end. He was the only true friend he had ever had.
"Darcy – I can't breathe! I can't breathe." He panicked.
Darcy yanked him forward and pounded his back, much like one would wind a babe, until finally he coughed and spluttered regaining an even breath.
"Move out of the way Darcy. Right, Wickham, enough of the games. Just tell us where you have been staying so that we may collect Miss Lydia." Came the familiar voice again.
"I know that voice…"
"Of course, you do. It is me, Percy Fitzwilliam. Now answer me man." Said Percy coming into focus.
"Don't want you. Want Darcy!" Wickham replied his eyes seeking Darcy until he found him. "There you are." He shouted triumphantly then brought his finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. "We mustn't get caught." He snickered.
"Oi!" came Willy's voice from a distance.
"Oh joy. Willy's back!" groaned Wickham trying to stand and toppling over onto his knees and then failing to break his fall with his hands and his face hitting the stale floor. "Oof!" he wheezed breathing in the dust and chocking on it.
"Take him and get out. You are upsettin' my business." Willy demanded his hands threading into Wickham's hair and pulling him up painfully, though, Wickham didn't seem able to feel it.
"Not until we get the information we came for." Said Mr Bennet.
"Unhand me!" Said Wickham his knees giving out once more, only Willy's hand in his hair kept him from falling down once more. "Am I bald yet?" he laughed a copper taste filling his mouth.
"Shut it!" snapped Willy spraying Wickham with spittle, to which Wickham threw up his accounts all over the man. "Aargh!" cried Willy shoving him away.
Surprised that he didn't fall down, Wickham opened his eyes and found himself gazing at the angry expression of Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Didn't mean to. She's safe I swear." He said before everything went dark.
Wickham came to, tripping over his feet as he was half dragged and half stumbling toward a large carriage, his legs shaking like jelly. The buildings dipped and spun, making them look as though they were folding in on themselves. Somehow, he put one foot in front of the other and managed to reach the conveyance and falling into it, only just making out a feminine scream before he felt himself pushed from the seat and to the floor.
"Easy, easy." He grouched.
"William, where is Lydia?" The woman's voice demanded.
"Lydia. Mrs Young. Safe…" Wickham managed before the darkness descended a second time.
Swaying gently in his sleep Wickham heard voices around him.
"What do we do now?" a voice asked.
"We shall stay nearby and find somewhere that we can sober him up, whilst making enquiries for Mrs Young." Came a weary answer.
"But she is all alone! Why can we not wake him and demand answers?" came the feminine voice from before.
"In the state he is in, Wickham is no good to us right now. We need to know we can trust the information he is giving us. We have no choice but to wait for him to come to, out of his opium induced haze."
Wickham tried to speak, to say that Lydia was safe, and he could take them to her, but he couldn't make a sound. His body felt too heavy and his limbs too heavy. The sway motion lulling him away from the voices more the harder he tried make his muscles cooperate.
With one final effort and the last of his energy he cried out, "Bucknall Street!" at least he hoped he had managed to get the words out. He vaguely registered a sudden stop and his body lurching limply into something hard and unyielding before everything faded out a third time. A final thought in the deep recesses of his mind were that he hoped he would not come back this time…