Chapter 27

Rockhill

In the few weeks since Lord Chartham and his family had taken residence at Rockhill, the drawing room had been transformed from a dilapidated room with aging furniture, dingy curtains, and worn carpets into a pleasant, cozy place with fine rugs from India on the floors and a new suite of chairs and sofas, purchased from a wholesaler in London and transported to Rockhill the previous week. Charles Bingley had always liked the room, not because of its accouterments, but because Miss Jane Bennet, the woman he adored and now his fiancée, had been his companion here for many happy hours.

Now, with the horrifying news of Lydia Bennet's planned elopement, the room seemed cold and barren. Charles Bingley tightened his grip on Jane's hand and gazed worriedly into the lady's tragic countenance. His fiancée was always beautiful, but she was very pale, and her rosy lips were quivering in distress.

"Mr. Bingley?" Jane asked softly.

"Charles, please – call me Charles. We are engaged."

She pulled her hand away from him and turned away to stare vacantly out of the darkened window, "Charles, if Lydia succeeds in running away with Mr. Wickham, we will be ruined. If that happens, then I want you to know that ... that I will release you from, from our ..."

He reached out to reclaim her trembling hand, causing her to turn back in surprise.

"My dearest Jane," he said quietly. "I assure you that if my sisters were not able to part us, yours certainly will not succeed either. I love you, my dear, and I intend to marry you even if Lydia runs off with ten disreputable lieutenants."

She managed a watery chuckle at this, even as she wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. "I cannot bear to think of your family sharing in our shame, Charles."

"I consider that we are already family," Bingley replied with determination, squeezing her hand gently. "I care about your sisters, and I love you very much. Please do not push me away, Jane. We will face this together."

She closed her eyes, but a tear leaked out. A moment later, Charles boldly embraced her. Jane Bennet melted into his caress, sobbing with grief and gratitude. God had truly blessed her with a good man.

/

Upstairs in Kitty's bedchamber, the mood was equally gloomy. Elizabeth forced herself to turn away from the darkness beyond the windows and face her sisters.

"Go to bed, Mary," she urged. "There will be no news from Hertfordshire until at least tomorrow."

Mary, her lips tight, rose to her feet and with one last disapproving glance at Kitty, swept out of Elizabeth's bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Elizabeth sighed aloud and walked over to sit beside Kitty, who was curled up on the small blue couch, sobbing softly to herself. "Dear sister, please do not distress yourself so much," she murmured into her younger sister's ear. "Mr. Darcy and our uncle and cousin are fast riders. I believe they will be there in time."

"Even if they do stop Lydia, what am I to do?" Kitty whimpered, her hands covering her face. "Father will be so angry that I did not tell you immediately and Lydia will never forgive me! Life at Longbourn will be terrible, especially if we are ruined."

Elizabeth closed her eyes, seeking patience, and wrapped a gentle arm around her sister. "Kitty," she said, "Father will be very proud of you for telling our cousins about the letter and as for Lydia, she will learn soon enough that Wickham is not a good man."

Kitty lowered her hands to peek over them at her sister, "Is he not? I thought you liked him!"

"I was wrong to like him," Elizabeth said steadily. "He was lying about being deprived of the living and a great deal more, Kitty. He is an evil man. But truly, I believe they will be there in time."

Kitty blew her nose and sat up a little. "I will pray that we are saved. If we are not, I will never forgive myself for waiting so long."

"Kitty?" Elizabeth asked cautiously.

"Yes?" Kitty whispered.

"I am very thankful you told our cousins about Lydia's letter, but may I ask, and I am not being accusatory, why did you not tell me or Jane or Mary?"

Kitty sighed and wiped her brow with one dispirited hand. "Lydia told me not to inform my sisters about the elopement, but she did not mention our cousins. And truthfully, I would not have told Rebekah and Ruth except they could see that I was upset."

Elizabeth blinked at her sister in surprise and asked, "Did they?"

"Yes, I was so distressed after I got Lydia's letter. On one hand, it seemed so romantic but on the other hand, I knew it was not quite right. But Mr. Wickham is so handsome and charming! So I did not know what to do and then Rebekah and Ruth pressed me and it was such a relief to tell someone, Lizzy. And they have been so kind and welcoming to me here at Rockhill. It just ... it just burst out, and I am thankful it did."

Elizabeth Bennet stared at her younger sister in horror. It was obvious that she had been so busy with Jane's wedding preparations that she had entirely missed Kitty's anguish. Furthermore, what did it say about all three of the older Bennet girls that Kitty felt more comfortable speaking to newly met cousins than to her sisters?

"Oh, Kitty," Lizzy murmured. "I am so sorry for failing you."

"No! No! It was my fault! I knew better!" Kitty wailed.

"It is not your fault," her older sister said sternly. "You are very close to Lydia, and naturally it was difficult for you to share such a secret. No, I only wish that I had been more sympathetic…"

/

On the road to Meryton

Fitzwilliam Darcy pulled his horse to a halt, glanced at his two companions, and asked, "Mr. Gardiner, do you know which way to Meryton?"

Aaron Gardiner frowned in the light of the moon, which was fortunately three quarters full, and nodded, "Yes, we need to take the left fork. Alexander, how is Kestrel faring?"

"He is well, Father," the youth said confidently. "Indeed, I think he could go for another three hours. He has remarkable stamina."

Aaron smiled at this in spite of the tense situation. Not for the first time, he thanked God that his daughters had rushed to his office as soon as they learned of their cousin Lydia's foolish plan to elope with a scoundrel.

"And your mount is well, Mr. Darcy?" Aaron asked.

"Yes," Darcy assured him, patting Phoenix's neck. "He is not winded in the least."

"Then onward," Gardiner said, "and I hope and pray that we will arrive in time to prevent a scandal."

They gently urged their horses on at a canter and within a short time, they passed through the darkened streets of Meryton. The night was clear of clouds, at least, which meant that the moon provided sufficient light to stay on the road. Less than five minutes later, they were pulling their horses to a halt in front of Longbourn.

Longbourn was silent as it was past midnight, but Aaron Gardiner did not hesitate to bound up the steps and rap sharply on the front door. A few minutes later, after yet more pounding, an unnerved servant slid open the door a few inches such that they could hear questioning feminine voices from within the house.

"I am Aaron Gardiner, Mrs. Bennet's eldest brother," Aaron explained. "I must see Mr. Bennet immediately."

"The master is in bed, sir, and is laid up with an injury," Mr. Hill began, only to turn as his mistress pushed past him.

"Aaron?" Mrs. Bennet demanded in shock and fear. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Is one of the girls ill? Dead? What has happened?"

"No, no, Fanny," Aaron assured her, stepping into the house with a welcoming gesture to Mr. Darcy and his son Alexander. "However, an urgent matter has arisen and we must speak to your husband."

Fanny looked, if anything, even more horrified, "It is Mr. Bingley, is it not? He has broken off his engagement with Jane and has broken her heart. Oh!"

"No, Mr. Bingley and Jane are still very much engaged, Sister. Please, I must see Mr. Bennet!"

"Come in, sir, come in!" cried a voice a nearby room.

Darcy followed Gardiner and his son into the parlor, which had been made up into a temporary bedchamber for the master of the house. Mr. Bennet, dressed in comfortable night clothes, was sitting up in his bed, his brow furrowed with concern, his injured leg resting on a pillow.

"Brother Gardiner! Mr. Darcy!" he exclaimed. "What brings you here so late at night?"

Darcy, deferring to Mr. Gardiner, expected a somewhat involved explanation for their journey. Instead, Aaron merely pulled Miss Lydia's letter to her sister Kitty out of his pocket, where it had been carefully secured, and handed it to his brother by marriage.

"Read this, Bennet," he ordered.

Mr. Bennet frowned and groped for his spectacles. A servant stepped forward to place candles on a nearby table, allowing Bennet to read the words with ease. A few minutes crept by in silence as Bennet's face shifted from confusion to incredulity to stark rage.

"Mrs. Bennet!" he yelled suddenly, causing the others in the parlor to jump in surprise.

Mrs. Bennet had obviously been hovering outside the door because she entered very quickly, the lace nightcap on her head quivering with curiosity and concern, "Yes, Mr. Bennet, what is it?"

"It is your foolish daughter, Mrs. Bennet," the man cried out, grimacing with pain as he jarred his broken leg. "Bring Lydia down here, at once, do you hear!"

"But she is sleeping!" Mrs. Bennet protested.

"Now, Mrs. Bennet!" her husband roared.

The woman grimaced indignantly but exited the room. Darcy and Gardiner exchanged worried glances. It was obvious that as far as the Bennets knew, Miss Lydia was safely in her bed, but might they be too late?

"I do not know this young man," Bennet commented, his eyes fixed on Alexander.

"My apologies, Brother Bennet," Gardiner said. "This is my son, Alexander. He is a remarkable horseman and very handy with his fists, so we brought him along as additional muscle, so to speak."

Ordinarily, this would have caused Mr. Bennet to laugh, but the shattering reality that his daughter was planning to run off with a rogue washed away any amusement. How could his youngest be such an idiot?

Outside the parlor, shuffling feet made their way down the staircase and with them, the whining voice of Lydia Bennet. "Why must I see Papa? I am tired! I only just fell asleep."

Everyone in the parlor heaved a deep sigh of relief. They had reached Longbourn in time.

"Lydia Bennet, get in here immediately!" Bennet snarled loudly.

Lydia came in curiously, dressed in a silk nightgown, without any hint of alarm on her features. Her surprise was magnified at the sight of the other men in the parlor.

"Uncle Gardiner, Mr. Darcy, what are you doing here?" she cried out in bewilderment.

"They are here to prevent you from destroying your life, and the lives of your sisters," Bennet shouted, furious that he could not stand up and loom over the tallest of his daughters. "Lydia, what possessed you to agree to elope with Wickham! How could I have fathered such a fool?"

Lydia's jaw dropped open incredulously as her eyes settled on the letter clutched in her father's hand. "Kitty told you?" she shrieked. "I will never, ever forgive her! How could she betray me like that?"

"Kitty is, as of this moment, my very favorite daughter," Bennet boomed angrily. "I am quite certain she is the favorite sister of Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary. You would have ruined them all, Lydia, if you had run off with that blackguard."

"What is this, Mr. Bennet?" his wife demanded, blinking owlishly. "I still do not understand what is happening!"

"Your precious daughter agreed to elope with Lieutenant Wickham, Mrs. Bennet," her husband snarled. "Our brother, nephew, and Mr. Darcy kindly raced through the night to stop her idiocy."

"How dare you!" Lydia cried out, obviously not intimidated in the least by her father's blustering. "Mr. Wickham loves me! We are going to Scotland to be married, and I will be the first one wed of all my sisters."

"My dear Lydia," Mrs. Bennet said in a placating tone, "you must know that an elopement is not at all the thing. My dear girl, there is no reason for such a ridiculous step. Mr. Wickham has only to ask your father and I am quite certain he will give his permission, though not yet, of course. Jane must be married first."

"I am confident that Mr. Wickham has no intention of marrying Miss Lydia," Darcy said quietly.

There was a frozen pause, and then Miss Lydia turned on him with a howl of outrage. "How dare you say such a thing? You are just jealous of my dear Wickham, and you have ruined his life by denying him the living at Kympton. Now you seek to slander his character? He loves me!"

Darcy hesitated briefly, but decided that the time for restraint was over, "I paid Mr. Wickham three thousand pounds in lieu of the living at his request, and he signed away all rights to it. Furthermore, the Darcy estate is currently supporting four women, all of whom were seduced and ruined by Mr. Wickham and who bore his bastard children. He is not a good man, Miss Lydia."

"You cannot mean," Mrs. Bennet demanded, her eyes wild, "that Mr. Wickham, that handsome, courtly gentleman, is a rake! Surely he would not do such a thing to my Lydia!"

"Wickham's only hope for wealth is through marriage," Darcy said heavily, "and Miss Lydia, for all her charms, would not be a wealthy bride. He would have carried her off, ruined her, and abandoned her, possibly with child."

The older woman covered her face with her hands and began sobbing in horror as Lydia took a furious step towards the tall master of Pemberley. "You are lying! Truly, he loves me and me alone."

Somewhat to his surprise, Darcy found that his natural irritation with this imbecile of a girl was mixed with a modicum of compassion. Georgiana, too, had protested that Wickham truly loved her, and it had taken time and proof of Wickham's previous perfidy to convince young Miss Darcy that she had been deceived by a rogue.

"Lydia, why did you not elope a few days ago?" Mr. Gardiner asked softly.

The girl stamped her feet in rage and screeched, "I wish we had! We were only waiting for me to get my pocket money! Mr. Wickham is very poor thanks to Mr. Darcy!"

"Did he ask you to bring along any valuable items?" her uncle inquired, maintaining a gentle tone.

"I was going to bring all of my jewelry and trinkets, of course, and I was going to borrow from the household funds, though of course my dear Wickham would have paid that back!"

There was a stunned pause and Darcy, almost unwillingly, shifted his gaze to Mr. Bennet, who looked like he was going to have an apoplexy.

"Thank you, Brother!" Mrs. Bennet gasped out, preventing Mr. Bennet's eruption. "And thank you, Mr. Darcy. You have saved us all. We are forever in your debt for rescuing our entire family from destruction. But what of Mr. Bingley? Please do not tell him of Lydia's outrageous behavior! He will break his engagement with Jane and then what shall we do?"

"He does know, of course," Aaron said soothingly, "but do not worry, dear sister, he is very much in love with Jane and has assured her, and us, that..."

"He will abandon her!" Mrs. Bennet shrieked. "How could he not, with such a scandal in the family. My poor, sweet Jane!"

"What do you mean, poor Jane?" Lydia cried out indignantly. "I am the one to be pitied, Mamma. Mr. Wickham ..."

There was the sudden slap and Lydia squealed in astonishment as a red mark blossomed on her cheek.

"Do not dare to speak of that foul Wickham," her mother hissed, her hand still raised after striking her daughter. "Do you understand how close you have come to ruining us all, Lydia? You will go to your bedroom now and you will not leave the house for the next year, and if Mr. Bingley does not marry Jane, I will never forgive you!"

Lydia began crying in surprise and outrage, and Mrs. Hill stepped forward to guide the girl upstairs. Mrs. Bennet followed her, hissing vituperative threats.

Mr. Bennet groaned, drawing the attention of the startled observers of this remarkable scene. "Mr. Darcy, Brother Gardiner, Alexander," he said, "I apologize for this episode. Please, do sit down. Hill, can you arrange for some tea for our guests?"

"It is not surprising that Fanny is distressed," Aaron said in a diplomatic tone.

"And it is my fault," Bennet stated gloomily. "I am entirely to blame, I know. Lizzy sent me a letter warning me that Wickham was a perfidious man, but I was too indolent to act. I apologize profoundly. I merely hope we can hush this up."

"I believe we can," Aaron replied reassuringly. "An agent of mine has been buying up Wickham's debts, and he delivered the receipts to me yesterday. We can take them to Wickham's commanding officer and insist that the man be arrested for non-payment. In Marshalsea, he can do no harm."

Darcy hesitated, and then said, "There is one other matter, sirs, about which I must speak. It is a very private circumstance, so I must ask for your discretion."

"You have it, Mr. Darcy, but there is no need for my son to be here. Alexander, I am certain that one of the servants can provide you with a bed."

Alexander rose with alacrity and said, "First, I wish to be certain that Kestrel is settled in the stables, and then I would definitely appreciate some sleep. Good night, Father. Good night, Mr. Darcy, Uncle Bennet."

The three men chorused their good-byes and Alexander left, closing the door behind him.

Darcy blew out his breath and leaned forward slightly, "I need to tell you about Mr. Wickham's attempt to seduce my sister, since he may try to use it against me ..."