Author's Note: Many thanks to all of you who have read and favorited/followed this story - it means so much to me! And special thanks to my wonderful reviewers, who have encouraged me and kept me from giving up.
To those who have asked, if you haven't read P&P, please do! :) Anything you may enjoy about this story is all owing to Austen or the writers of Doctor Who; I own nothing. Beta'd by lastincurableromantic
Hearing his footsteps fade, Rose looked up at the empty doorway with a distinct sense of loss, certain that she would never see him again.
Well, that's that, she told herself, trying to ignore the hollow ache in her chest as she pushed all thoughts of Mr. Smith from her head. We must leave as soon as possible, though I'm not sure what good we can do. The uncharacteristically melancholy thought was painful to her, and it was her turn to pace the room as she tried to quell her turbulent emotions.
Oh, how had things come to this? Lucy running off with Mr. Saxon! She'd never noticed any particular regard between them, aside from the general infatuation he'd garnered when he first arrived. But she knew all too well how charming he could be, especially, she thought with remorse, when one was open to such attentions. When she herself had been completely taken in, what was to keep Lucy, her silly, thoughtless sister, from the same? Lucy appeared to believe they would soon be married, but did she have the strength of character and principle to stand up to him if he didn't? Sadly, Rose feared she might not.
The sitting room door flew open to reveal a very troubled Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, who had practically sprinted back to the inn upon receiving the servant's urgent summons. "My dear! Are you alright?" her aunt exclaimed breathlessly, taking in her niece's evident distress. At a subtle motion from her uncle, Mary quietly left the room.
"Oh, Aunt!" Rose cried, moving swiftly into Harriet's waiting arms. She would not allow the tears to return, however, not now. Now they must make haste, and she had to be brave. Pulling back from the comforting embrace, she quickly shared the unhappy contents of Donna's letters, watching as shock and then dismay crossed their faces.
"I know it is a week early, my dear aunt and uncle, but please, may we go?" Rose pleaded, taking one of their hands in each of hers. She was desperate to get home to her family, especially to Donna, who she knew was bearing the weight of holding their family together.
"Of course, Rose. Don't worry about that. We will go at once, and I will do all within my power to help," Uncle Gardiner promised, his face full of kindness and concern. He patted her hand gently before his demeanor became suddenly serious and business-like. "I will go settle our affairs. We should be able to leave by lunchtime."
Aunt Harriet shot him a tender look of gratitude before turning back to her niece. "There now," she said, her voice gentle yet reassuring as she met Rose's gaze. "We must pack, and I will beg pardon of the few friends we'd arranged to meet. Your uncle will handle the rest."
"Thank you, Aunt Harriet," Rose whispered, gratitude overwhelming her as she hugged her aunt again.
"Why of course, sweetheart. It is an unfortunate situation, but you all are not alone in this. Everything that can be tried will be done to help your sister," she declared. "Now! Why don't you collect your things while I write a couple notes, and… oh! But Mary said that Mr. Smith was here just before us. Does he know we will not be able to visit today?"
Rose had just started towards her room but paused in the doorway, laying one hand upon the frame. A look of sadness passed over her that perplexed her aunt. Looking up quickly, she murmured, "He knows," and then quietly left the room.
Aunt Harriet stood a moment in surprise, troubled by Rose's reaction. Just how much does he know? She had been silently observing the unexpected familiarity between Rose and Mr. Smith during their stay, quickly realizing that there was much more to their story than her niece had let on. Now she couldn't help but wonder: were they close enough that Rose would share the truth of their situation? And that his awareness of it was at least partially responsible for the dejection she'd just witnessed?
Snap out of it, Harriet, she chastised herself. Right now she needs your help, not your speculations, especially ones that might cause her more pain. With that thought, she hurried to prepare for their departure.
True to her uncle's word, their small party was ready to leave within an hour of deciding to do so. Rose breathed a small sigh of relief as they settled into the carriage, grateful to be heading towards where her heart now yearned to be.
After they had left Flydale behind, her uncle spoke up. "The more I think on it, Rose, the more I'm tempted to agree with Donna. It would be foolishness to attempt anything so low with a girl like Lucy, who has both family and friends looking out for her, not to mention the Colonel of his own regiment! The temptation is not worth the risk!"
Rose couldn't help seizing upon the hope he offered. "Truly, Uncle? Do you think so?"
"I quite agree with him, dear. It flies in the face of all that is good and decent, as well as his own interests. You don't really think he is that bad, do you, Rose? That he would risk everything for a… a dalliance?" Harriet asked, struggling to apply such a word to one of her own kin, yet watching Rose's reaction intently.
It all sounded too familiar. The ephemeral feeling of hope fled, and Rose took a shuddering breath before answering. "I wish I could say no, Aunt, but I'm so afraid. While I'm sure he would try to protect his own interests, I truly believe him capable of risking everything else." Her pained expression spoke volumes, and Harriet's eyes grew wide in alarm.
"So they have not gone to Scotland. But perhaps, since neither of them has much money, they have just decided to wait and be married in London, where it is cheaper," Mr. Gardiner offered, though with less confidence than before.
"But why hide, then?" Rose reasoned, biting her thumbnail, a habit she'd broken years ago. "Why a private wedding? No, much as I wish to, I cannot believe it. Saxon must marry for money; that was a given even before I knew his true character. I do not know how such an affair might affect his position in the militia, nor his reputation. However, considering what he's seen of her upbringing, the virtual lack of any restraint or guidance, and with no brothers to defend her, he might well think he'd have any easy time of it."
"What about Lucy, though? Would she really be so starry-eyed in love as to accept anything less than marriage?" her aunt asked apprehensively. While she had never become as close with her younger nieces, she still cared greatly for them, and the thought of Lucy falling so far from what she knew was distressing.
The verdure sweeping past blurred slightly as Rose blinked back tears. "It hurts to say it, especially of my own sister, but it does seem so. She is so young yet and was never made to ponder anything so serious as this, to think of the consequences of one's actions. Recently her life has been consumed only with flirting, dancing, and officers. She is rash and impressionable. What chance would she stand against someone like him, if he chose to seduce her?"
"But Donna does not think him capable of it," Uncle Gardiner put in.
"Donna tries to see the good in everyone and is far more forgiving than I am. It is hard for us to accept such evil; think how unconscionable it must be to her. But she knows his true measure, as I do - that he has mastered the art of deception. He won us all over with his seeming openness, his smiles and smooth words, pretending at an honor and integrity he sorely lacks."
"And you are quite certain?" Aunt Harriet insisted.
Rose didn't hesitate; there was no longer any doubt in her mind as to where the truth lay. "Yes. You yourself have seen and heard the discrepancy between his woeful tales of injustice and the truth of Mr. Smith's generosity and mercy. And there is even more that I cannot tell," Rose admitted, closing her eyes a moment before continuing. "It doesn't matter. Practically everything he said was untrue. By his word I expected Miss Smith to be proud and unfriendly, yet you see what a darling she is!"
"But Lucy didn't know any of this?" Uncle Gardiner questioned in disbelief.
"No, and you don't know how that's tortured me," Rose replied with chagrin, her head bowed. "Knowing that, with just a few words of warning, this could have been prevented. But I did not know the truth myself until I was in Kent. By the time we returned home the militia were leaving, and we, that is Donna and I, thought it unkind to trouble everyone needlessly, especially if he was reformed. To be sure, Lucy fancied him in the beginning, as most of us did, but it soon passed. And even when she left for Brighton, I never considered that she might be in danger from him, as she did not have the name or the fortune to tempt him. But ignorance does not excuse my silence. I shall never forgive myself." Though both of them protested this statement, Rose could not absolve herself so easily.
They traveled expeditiously, stopping only briefly to eat or sleep before hurrying onward. The remainder of the ride home to Powell was largely quiet, for which Rose was grateful. One topic preoccupied their minds, circling round without ceasing. Only the hope of activity, of usefulness, could ease it. Rose's heart ached with the weight of remorse and self-reproach, and she could not find joy even in the beauty passing by outside their windows. Small talk would have been insufferable.
Upon arriving at the Tyler estate, they were greeted by the three daughters still at home. Rose pulled Joan and Lynda each in for a tight hug before flying into Donna's arms. The Gardiners were welcomed with joyful gratitude. Receiving a nod of understanding from her aunt, Rose linked her arm through her eldest sister's and walked on into the house as the others stood about chatting.
Wiping away the few tears that had escaped, she looked up into her beloved sister's face, noticing the dark shadows around her eyes, fatigue and worry etched into every feature. "Have you heard from Lucy?" she asked, coming straight to the point.
"Not yet," Donna confided, a spark of hope still shining in her eyes that made Rose want to weep. "Having you all here is a great comfort, though, and I am hopeful that our uncle will be a real help to Dad. He is still in town, but we have heard nothing since he first wrote to tell us where he was staying, which he only did because I begged him to. I'm so worried about him, Rose." Anxiety for her father, for her sister, radiated from her.
"I'm worried about you," Rose said, lifting one hand to Donna's pale cheek. "I know you have had to bear everything. I'm so sorry, Donna. By the way, where is Mum?" Anxious as she'd been to see Donna, her mother's absence had temporarily escaped her notice.
As if on cue, a commotion suddenly ensued upstairs, Jackie Tyler's voice ringing out for all to hear. "I've had just about enough of this. I won't stand for it anymore, I tell ya! A captive in my own house! My baby's been kidnapped by that awful man, but am I allowed to go in search of her? No! I'm not even allowed out of my own house! Afraid I'd call too much attention to our 'predicament.' Oh, I'll give them a predicament…"
Donna gave her a wan smile, shaking her head slightly. "Donna, you're a saint," Rose murmured under her breath, aware that a very irate Jackie was descending the stair and would be upon them momentarily.
"Oh, Rose sweetheart! You're home!" A second later she was engulfed in her mother's close embrace, the comforting smell of lavender surrounding her, pleasantly surprised by her warm welcome. Shortly thereafter the rest of the party entered the foyer, interrupting the tender scene.
Jackie pulled away from Rose, chiding even as she moved to embrace her sister and brother-in-law. "Took you lot long enough to get here! We've been nearly frantic with worry while you were traipsing across the countryside! They won't let me help, nor even go visiting to find some comfort, for I find precious little here. Donna tries, bless her, but I need to get out. It's driving me batty! But oh! My poor Lucy! Who knows how that horrid man has tricked her?"
Several attempts were made to interrupt her tirade, but Jackie Tyler finally had an audience and was determined to have her say at last. "I was always suspicious of that one. Too charming by far to be trusted. And now he's gone and stolen our baby from us and ruined us all! If only your father had let us go to Brighton, this wouldn't have happened. And she should never have gone to stay with the Forsters. Your Dad is alone in London searching for them, and I've never seen him so upset. What if he fights Saxon and gets hurt? What would become of us then?" she fretted, her voice rising as anxiety took over. Hard as it might be to endure, Rose knew that commingled with her whinging was genuine love and concern.
Aunt Harriet stepped in front of her, grasping her shoulders firmly and forcing her sister to meet her gaze. "Just breathe, Jackie. It may turn out alright yet," she affirmed. Rose had to admire the soothing confidence with which she spoke. "Now why don't we move to the sitting room, perhaps, where we can discuss things calmly and with some measure of privacy."
Defiance flared in Jackie's eyes, leading Mr. Gardiner to add, "We are just as worried as you are, Jackie. Of course we should prepare ourselves for any outcome, but it has been less than a week, and we may still hear from them. Until it is certain, we must hold onto hope. I leave in the morning. I will find Peter, and together we will adjourn to Gracechurch Street, where we will decide what to do next. Now please, sister, come and sit with us."
Somewhat pacified, she accepted his proffered arm, the other ladies following in after them. Though still in an agitated frame of mind, Jackie's relief was evident in that her outpourings were no longer panicked; instead they were now almost ridiculously optimistic.
"Such a dear, you are," she enthused, patting his arm. "'S just what I hoped for. You and Pete will find them, and if they aren't married, you will simply make them marry. Now, Lucy's sure to want some wedding clothes, but tell her not to wait on that; we can take care of those things after they're married. Whatever happens, promise me you won't let Pete fight! Tell him I forbid it, that he must think of his girls, and that I… well, that I'm worried sick over him, the daft man."
Uncle Gardiner's disconcerted gaze softened at that last sentiment. "I will tell him. We will do all we can, and you must be ready to accept whatever comes, good or bad," he replied, trying to encourage her without giving false hope.
At dinner the travelers noticed the lack of servants yet wisely said nothing. It was not a great leap to suppose that they'd been given a long holiday until this trouble had passed, thereby lessening the exposure of the family to speculation and gossip. That was the most noticeable change; Lynda seemed a bit downcast, and Joan was dedicated to her studies as usual. All things considered, the Tyler home was relatively calm.
Later that evening, when Rose and Donna managed to find a few minutes alone, the details of the affair came pouring out, unable to be stopped up any longer.
"It is all too dreadful. I think a part of me is still in denial," Rose declared, leaning her head on her sister's shoulder. They were sitting on the bench in the back garden, looking out at nothing in particular. Donna remained tellingly silent. "You're still hopeful that we'll hear from them, aren't you?"
A slight pause followed. "Yeah. I have to," she admitted softly, her gaze fixed on the old oak that they'd played in as children.
Tilting her head so she could see Donna's face out of the corner of her eye, Rose implored her, "Please tell me more, sister. What did Colonel Forster say? Surely he had noticed something between them."
Donna glanced down at her, her eyes full of sorrowful sympathy. "I felt so sorry for him, Rose. He had noticed a growing affection between them, but nothing alarming. He was so kind and worried, and he obviously felt responsible, though it was not his fault. And he had no idea when he first left that they had not gone on to Scotland. He was nearly as devastated as we were when he found out."
"What of Adam Mitchell's assertions that Saxon never planned to go to Scotland, nor to marry her? Did the Colonel get to speak with him?"
"Yes, but Captain Mitchell denied having ever said so, or knowing anything about it. Perhaps it was all a misunderstanding," Donna posited hopefully.
"And none of you suspected they weren't married, prior to the Colonel's visit?"
"No! Why would we?!" Donna exclaimed, a look of horror crossing her features before it transformed to one of concern. "I worried a bit for her happiness, knowing what I did of him, but Mum and Dad saw only the imprudence of the match. I'm afraid Lynda caught it from Dad when she admitted to knowing of their attachment, and that Lucy had hinted at expectations of more."
"And what was the Colonel's opinion of Saxon? How well did he know him?"
Donna's shoulders slumped a little. "I think he had lost some of his regard for him since we last saw them. He called him reckless and untrustworthy, and it seems that lately there are rumors that Mr. Saxon left a trail of debt behind him in Meryton."
"Oh, why didn't we say something?" Rose lamented heatedly. "If we had, none of this would have happened!"
"Maybe," Donna conceded, "but we erred on the side of forgiveness. Perhaps it was not the wisest choice, but our intentions were good."
Rose reflected on that a moment, trying, rather unsuccessfully, to let the truth of it assuage her guilt. "You said she'd left a letter?"
"Colonel Forster brought it with him." She slipped quickly into the house, returning moments later with the letter, which she pressed into Rose's hand.
My dearest friend,
How do you like my surprise? I wish I could see your face at this moment! I know you will be happy for me, tho, for I am headed for Gretna Green! I need not tell you who with. He is an angel, and I love him more than anything. Soon I will be married, and before all of my sisters, too! You need not write my family, for I will write them myself and sign it 'With love, Lucy Saxon.' Can you imagine? I can hardly keep from laughing at their astonishment.
The rest of the letter, to Rose's amazement, fell into vapid comments about officers and clothes, as if the first half of it had been just as trivial. Staring a moment in shock, she suddenly cried out, "Oh, Lucy! Foolish, impulsive girl! In such a moment, to write this?! But she seems quite sure of their destination and its purpose at this point, whatever he might have convinced her to agree to later. Our poor father! It must have hit him hard."
Donna's eyes filed with tears at the mention of him. "It was so terrible, Rose; the house was in chaos! Dad was so stunned, he didn't move for a full ten minutes. And Mum was hysterical, angry and distraught by turns. I tried to comfort them as best I could, but it all felt so unreal. The horrifying possibilities spinning through my head… I'm rather proud I bore it as well as I did," she finished, shuddering.
"It has been too much for you, caring for Mum and attending to all the family affairs, too. You look pale and weary. How I wish I had been here to help you bear it!" Rose exclaimed, pulling her in for a desperate hug.
"I wished so, too. But you are here now," Donna said, squeezing her a little tighter before letting go. "Lynda and Joan helped as best they could, but when it came to Mum… well, they were terrified of her. Dad left for London, and we thought it best to send most of the servants away for a spell. And surprisingly, though she fought me on it, Mum actually almost listens to me now. Our Aunt Philips stopped by several times, which helped greatly, and even Mrs. Jones came by to express her sympathy."
Rose huffed at that. "Maybe she meant to be kind, but in these situations, it feels too much like gawking. I hope she does not come again. Let them gloat over our misfortune from a distance, where we do not have to witness it," she declared indignantly.
Donna leveled a reproachful glance her way, and Rose exhaled sharply. "I'm sorry. I just… Donna, don't you see? Much more has been hurt by this than Lucy's reputation," she murmured, the ache in her heart making it difficult to speak.
A look passed between them, one full of shared anguish and loss.