Chapter 23: Of Vengeful Children and Regretful Parents

Darcy and the colonel shared a startled look when Mrs. Green introduced her only son, George 'Young,' who looked so much like Wickham that Darcy regressed into his childhood for a moment. The same face, the same eyes, the same hair, the same posture. However, George Young was dressed in a manner that his father would never dress. His style was much more modest and conservative. Other than that, it was as if they were seeing young Wickham again. It took much less than Mr. Darcy expected for Mrs. Green to give them all the information she had, or rather… for her son George Jr. to talk to them when she had a nervous fit that sent her to her room after hearing that Wickham had kidnapped yet another very young lady and had plans to either marry her in Scotland or sell her to a Madame in London. Whether she was just shocked or disappointed, they did not know.

Apparently, Mrs. Green -then Mrs. Young- had cheated on Mr. Young with Wickham for years. Mr. Young had been over the moon when his wife was finally pregnant after years of trying. She had seen that Wickham was quite fertile. She needed to give her husband a child so that she could inherit what little fortune he had. She thought that Wickham would respect their 'arrangement' and that she would be enough for him. She obviously was not. He lied. He charmed her. He somehow always managed to get her to forgive him. He played the victim with his intricate stories. She had bought them all.

George Young was aware of who his biological father was. He hated the man with a passion. His real beloved father, Charles Young, had loved him and cared for him for as long as he could. He was an honorable man. He was affectionate. He was patient and kind. He taught him right from wrong. He was everything that George Wickham was not. George Jr. had always hated what his mother did to his father, for Charles was the only man he would ever recognize as such. He had been waiting and keeping tabs with dates and names that he heard from behind the door when Wickham 'visited' his mother. He would never forgive the indignities his mother forced on his father.

While on his deathbed, Charles had told him he had always known about Wickham, and that while his wife's continuous infidelities hurt him, he could not bring himself to hate Wickham because he had given him the best son a man could have, a son that made him proud and who he loved more than anything in life. While George had been heartbroken about that, he had sworn revenge on Wickham, and now that the famous Mr. Darcy was here and he was old enough to get involved, he would use this opportunity to make sure Wickham died a horrible death.

"Mr. Young, Colonel Fitzwilliam," Richard nodded.

"Nice to meet you, sir," George Young had -thank the Lord- none of the arrogance and nonchalance of his biological father.

"This is Mr. Darcy and Mr. Walker."

"Gentlemen, it is a pleasure. I have been waiting for this moment for years."

"You have?" the colonel raised a brow.

"Yes. Give me a moment."

Richard's hand was immediately on his pistol. Darcy and Walker had a defensive posture as well.

"No need for that, colonel," George smiled. He had a large stack of documents. "I was only procuring this documentation. I have dates, names, victims, affected businesses, witnesses, anything you could possibly want to ruin Wickham."

The cousins shared a look. Walker took the papers. After looking at the level of detail and the clarity of all that was written, Marcus looked up, "Why are you volunteering all this? Do you understand the consequences of exposing him?"

"Yes. Death. I hope it is slow and torturous and very painful."

"Why?" Marcus frowned.

"My father, Charles, was the best of men. He was the only father I had and the only one I needed. My mother always hid me from Wickham whenever he… uh… visited. I suppose she did that because I look like a younger version of him. I think, deep down, she feared he would extort her regardless of their… arrangement. My character, however, could not be more different from his. Just the knowledge that he has once again ruined a young girl who is possibly my age or younger makes me sick. Having his face is punishment for crimes I did not commit. He is the worst sort of person. He was given every opportunity to succeed and lead a righteous, decent life, but he chose treason, debauchery, and dishonor."

Mr. Darcy looked at the younger man. He spoke with gravitas, and his tone was both transparent and frustrated, "How old are you, Mr. Young?"

"Sixteen, almost seventeen, and even I know better than to lead the life Wickham has lived and not expect to meet a horrible end..."

"Mr. Young taught you well. Did he not?" the colonel stared into his eyes.

"He did. He taught me the value of hard work, honesty, and decency. I know what happened to your sister, sir," he looked at Mr. Darcy, who frowned. "My mother told me. So that I could have blackmail material if I ever were to need financial aid… eventually. She seems to think that I will fail"

"And yet?" the colonel raised a brow at him.

"And yet, if I had a sister, I would not want her honor to be used as a bargaining chip," he pulled out a stack of letters from his pocket. "He gave them to my mother for safekeeping."

The colonel shared a look with Darcy.

"You are welcome to search my room and my writing desk. I have not kept any. I am sure your sister can confirm they are all in there."

"And you do not want anything in exchange for these?" Walker took the letters as well. His tone was suspicious.

"No. I would like for my face and my origin not to be a thorn in my side while I try to make my way in the world. That is all," George said with an impassive face.

The colonel and Darcy shared a look and a nod. "We will do you one better. If this stack of letters is indeed complete, I will personally help you advance in a profession of your choosing."

George was stunned, "After all he did… You… I… I have his face."

Darcy shrugged, "You do not have his heart nor his questionable morals. That you have not used this against us for years and that you have been gathering useful information is proof enough that you want the opposite in life. Your origin is not your fault. How you have chosen to live your life is the only thing that is really your fault after a certain age."

"Where are you currently working?"

"I am assisting a lawyer."

"I suspected that," Marcus nodded. "Your note-taking in these documents is impeccable. Very lawyer like…"

"Thank you, sir."

"Who are you working with?"

"Andrew Wright."

Marcus nodded, "Excellent barrister."

"Yes."

"Good. Now we know where to find you," the colonel replied.

"Here is my card," Marcus handed him a business card. "I am Mr. Darcy's lawyer. Now you know how to find us. Not these days. We will be busy. But by the end of the month, the situation should have been resolved."

"I think he is traveling to the place I underlined."

"Thank you, Mr. Young. You have been of great assistance."

"We appreciate your helpfulness and your honesty. It is quite refreshing from uh… your face."

"I am really sorry. I do hope one day you come to see this face and not remember him."

Marcus laughed, "Maybe grow a beard?"

George chuckled back, "That may not be such a bad idea. Please let me know what happens. Knowing he is six feet under would give me -and Mr. Green- some peace."

"Mr. Green is alive?" the colonel blinked. He thought Mrs. Young was the black widow type.

"Yes. He is just never here. He is a merchant, and he travels a lot… He does not like me much. It's the face, you know…"

Darcy grimaced, "Of course. Well, Mr. Young, we need to get going. Thank you for all the information."

"You are nothing like he said, you know, sir."

"Beg your pardon?"

"He said you were arrogant, cold, unfeeling, unbothered by those less fortunate… You are not that at all. You are kind and fair like Mr. Wright said your father was."

"I cannot even tell you how good of a compliment that is to me."

George smiled, "I am glad. Godspeed, sirs."

"You are joking?"

"No."

"That is most… most…"

"Improper, scandalous, shocking…"

"Yes."

"But it will be effective. He will come rushing to separate us."

"That is why you think we should do it in the carriage… when we are passing through the next town."

"Yes."

"Oh, dear. I do not know if I can do… that."

"Pardon the presumption, Miss Lydia, but in all the time you have spent around men like Wickham, none of them tried… anything? No one… kissed you? Uh… Touched you? In places where you were told no one could touch you, especially not a man."

"No… I mean, not like you just explained."

"But… something did happen, right?"

"Do you promise not to tell?"

Mr. King took a deep breath, "Miss Lydia, whatever happens with Wickham, we will end up getting married. There is no escaping that."

"Maybe I will die… Me dying would be more honorable," she sighed.

"You would rather die than marry me? Truly?"

"It is more like you would rather die than marry me, and I do not want to be married to a man who thinks I am stupid and childish, and who would remind me of all I have cost him every day of our lives."

Mr. King frowned, "Why would you think I would do that?"

"That is what my father has done to my mother for the last twenty-four years. It has chipped away at who she is. It has caused her to suffer from her nerves and to feel despair over our futures."

Mr. King blinked for a while, "I am really sorry to hear that. It is quite reprehensible for men to act like that. I am sorry if I made you feel like you would have to fear my scorn and resentment when we are married. I would rather marry you than die, Miss Lydia."

"That is not saying much…"

"Miss Lydia… If we manage to survive this, I will push for a formal courtship and then a long engagement. People will think we preceded our vows and-"

"Preceded our vows?" her eyes were as wide as they could get.

"That we had intercourse… And they will expect a pregnancy to be the result of that."

She blushed bright red. "Oh."

"Now, it will have to take at least one year to make sure no one can even suggest there was a pregnancy to begin with."

"I do not think my family will agree with a long engagement, given the circumstances."

"Miss Lydia… I already feel like a criminal marrying a child. If you were at least eighteen, I would feel less predatory about this whole situation... It would still not be my preference to marry that age group, but at least you would not look so much like a child."

"I am not a child."

"Your behavior is child-like. Your lack of information in these matters is child-like."

"Hey! I am not telling you anything, then."

"It is not a criticism, Miss Lydia. It is merely an assessment of facts. You cannot help your age. Your behavior and your lack of information are completely appropriate for your age group. I just cannot find you attractive as a wife. I think you are a pretty girl and that you would likely make someone a good wife in at least five years if you apply yourself."

"Are you telling me that you will be engaged with me for five years but not marry me?"

"No. I am saying that I will be engaged to you for at least two years. We can spend that year finding you a better husband option. And once we do, you will end your engagement to me. I will act like a heartbroken fool for a while. You will marry well and have a good life."

"And if I refuse to end it?" she raised a brow at him.

He sighed, "You will force me to end it. I would rather you did that. Then, people will think you are above reproach and that I did something wrong. It saves you from society's scorn. As a man, I can endure that much better and still marry whoever I choose later in life. I promise not to start courting anyone until you are happily married for at least one month. Is that agreeable?"

"I suppose," Lydia looked away. The more time she spent with Mr. King, the more she actually wanted to marry him.

When they stopped to change horses, Wickham decided to take some time to have a pint. Matthew could drive them for a while. Matthew requested a meal. The man was very tall and beefy and needed to eat more often than other men. Something did not sit well with Matthew from his meal, and he needed to relieve himself. Wickham decided to bring some fruits and pastries to his prisoners. It was growing dark fast. As he left the tavern, he saw the carriage rocking back and forth and heard the tale tell sounds of amorous congress. He should have known better than to believe that Mr. King would remain honorable before such temptation. He all but ripped the door open and pulled Mr. King away from Lydia and threw him out of the carriage, only to find himself facing the end of a gun barrel pointed at his head. Wickham's shock was such that he did not realize the vulnerable position he was in until Mr. King took his military pistol and put it at the base of George's skull.

"I would not move if I were you," Mr. King smirked.

By the time Matthew came outside, both the carriage and the people in it were gone. He growled. Wickham owed him a significant amount of money. Mr. King had managed to both pull Lydia out and lock the carriage from the outside. Mr. King was glad they had just changed horses, and that Miss Lydia had the good sense to hide money in her shoes. Lydia had expertly hogtied Wickham while Mr. King kept the gun pressed to the back of his head. Once she got out of the carriage, Mr. King hit Mr. Wickham hard enough to leave him unconscious.

They got on the coachman's box seat and took off before Wickham's accomplice saw them. They asked for directions from a mail wagon's driver and started going back. They needed to get closer to the road that led to London. Mr. King was a good horseman, and the horses responded well. Miss Lydia had taken Mr. Wickham's discarded hat and sat beside Mr. King. There were not many carriages on their route. They must have kept going for around two hours when Miss Lydia grabbed his forearm and pointed to a stopped carriage on the side of the road.

"I think that's a Darcy carriage."

"I will slow down but not stop unless you recognize anyone."

She nodded.

As they approached Lydia saw a military man stretching. He was armed. There were two other men facing away. One turned slightly when he heard the carriage. She could recognize the aristocratic profile.

"STOP!"

Mr. King pulled on the reigns as hard as he could, but since he could only use one arm. Miss Lydia grabbed the reigns, too, and pulled with both hands as hard as she could. The horses complained but stopped.

Mr. King was going to tell Miss Lydia to wait, but it was too late. She had jumped off the carriage and ran toward the elegantly dressed men.

"MR. DARCY! Thank God!"

Darcy turned with wide eyes. His intended youngest sister looked almost wild. Her clothes were dirty and rumpled. Her face was completely bruised. She ran toward him, but right before she reached him, she tripped and landed quite literally at his feet face first. Mr. King, who had scrambled as fast as he could to go after her, grimaced as she fell with a pained grunt. A military man had a sword to his neck the moment he tried to reach Lydia to help her up.

"Miss Lydia!" Mr. Darcy crouched to help her up.

She coughed and held onto his offered hands tightly, as if she was afraid that he would disappear if she let go.

"Walker! A blanket!"

Lydia shivered when she was wrapped in a soft, clean blanket that smelled like her sister Jane.

"SON!" Mr. King Sr. had insisted on joining the search party when they met in an inn to discuss how to find the two kidnapped victims and how to deal with the potential scandal that would result from it.

"Father!"

Colonel Fitzwilliam put his sword back in place and took several steps away.

Mr. King palmed his son and turned him around to make sure he wasn't bleeding.

"Come, Miss Lydia, sit down," he helped her to a thick, sturdy log. She sat down a bit shaky.

"I am so glad we found you!"

"Who did this to you?" he motioned at her face.

"Wickham… It looks worse than it feels, I promise."

Mr. Darcy frowned in disbelief, "Did you run from him?"

"No, he's in the carriage."

"What?!"

"Mr. King has the keys."

Darcy turned to see Mr. King Jr. handing the colonel the keys. "Careful, Richard!"

The carriage shook as Wickham struggled to turn, unsuccessfully. He had heard Darcy and Richard and was terrified. An additional carriage approached, and Richard motioned for everyone to wait. It was five of his most trusted military men.

"Darcy, go show Miss Lydia the views, please."

Mr. Darcy frowned but did as requested. He took a food basket with them and motioned for the Kings to follow them. He offered Miss Lydia his arm. She was shocked but took it anyway. They walked past some trees and kept walking. There was a simple river down a slight slope.

"Mr. King, your father and I were discussing damage control last night."

"No need. Miss Lydia and I have already discussed it at length," Mr. King Jr. replied, looking at the girl who sighed and looked away.

"It meaning?"

"We are engaged," Mr. King said this as if it was the most awful sentence he ever uttered.

"Are you willing to marry as soon as can be arranged?" Mr. Darcy asked.

"No," Mr. King Jr. shook his head.

"I do not understand, son," Mr. King Sr. frowned.

"Neither do I," Mr. Darcy blinked.

"Allow me to explain. Mr. King will make a mess of it in your head like he did in mine."

"Miss Lydia, I-"

"Shush! I have heard all your reasonings, and you ramble on quite a bit before you get to the point. I am tired and would like to leave as soon as possible so I can clean myself up and sleep!"

Both Senior and Junior looked shocked by her shushing a man who was older than her and not related to her at all.

Mr. Darcy looked more amused at their expressions than upset at her faux pas. "Please, proceed. Gentlemen, do not interrupt her."

"Mr. King Jr. here finds the idea of marrying me completely revolting. He has been very transparent about this. I am as unappealing to him as eating manure… He proposes that we remain in a long engagement. Long enough for people to stop thinking we are marrying because I am supposedly with child. He thinks a two-year-long engagement would be best and that one out of those two years can be spent finding me a better husband. He later wants me to end the engagement and put on a farce that he is heartbroken. How he thinks he can do that is beyond me. His acting skills are subpar... He promises not to marry until I have been married for a while."

Mr. Darcy and Mr. King Sr. shared a look and stared at Mr. King Jr. strangely.

"I do not follow your logic," Mr. Darcy was perplexed.

"I am twenty-six years old, Mr. Darcy. Miss Lydia is a child. I cannot marry a child."

Mr. King Sr. pinched the bridge of his nose. "Son, that is ridiculous."

"No, it truly is not. Why make her marry me?"

"Why make you marry her, you mean?" Mr. Darcy crossed his arms.

Lydia looked at the man in awe. His tone was defensive… of her. Now, that was something she thought she would never hear.

"You cannot deny that I am the only innocent party in all this, sir."

"Well, forgive me, but I have no proof of that," Mr. Darcy frowned.

"She can tell you."

"You have had days to convince her… to manipulate her."

"I have never touched her!"

Mr. Darcy scoffed, "Do you want me to believe that your arm is in a knitted sling fashioned after a spider web that Wickham crafted?"

Lydia snorted, but Mr. Darcy ignored her. "You traveled with her unaccompanied. You have slept in the same room, I presume," he looked at Lydia to corroborate, and she nodded. "You were seen by many. She is thoroughly compromised."

"By Wickham! BLOODY HELL! All I did was walk a lady to her home at night at my father's request, after she so foolishly walked to our home all alone, and I ended up kidnapped, beaten, and with a dislocated arm that I had to pop back into place myself, thank you very much, not to mention starving and covered in dust and Lord knows what else! I have lived a decent life. I have never sought to marry. I have compromised no woman. I have honor. I cannot stomach the age difference. Why can neither of you understand that?!" he stared hard at Darcy. "Would you marry a woman your youngest sister's age?!"

Mr. Darcy took a deep breath. "Not willingly, no, but if the options were marrying her or having her become a fallen woman, therefore costing her the steep price of both her family and her future, I would. Even if it were a marriage in name alone..."

"Do you speak for her father?" Mr. King Sr. frowned.

"At the moment, I do."

"Why?"

"He suffered a carriage accident. His head was injured."

"Is he any worse?" Miss Lydia asked with a pout.

"He was the same when we left to find you," he replied. She swayed, and he helped her sit down. He opened the picnic basket. "Please, both of you, eat. We can talk later."

Anne was having the best time at Pemberley. Everyone was kind and welcoming. The staff were constantly bringing her delicious meals and treats. Color had returned to her cheeks. She was currently waiting for the doctor to finish checking his regular patients to come see her.

"Miss DeBourgh," the doctor smiled.

"Doctor Allen, yes?" Anne smiled back.

"Indeed. A pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure to meet you, too."

"Shall I start?"

"Doing what, Miss?"

"Telling you all the conditions I have?" her tone was questioning.

"Yes. Let me write some notes," the doctor inked a pen and heard the young woman while he jotted down important details.

"Miss DeBourgh, are you currently in any pain?"

"No, I am feeling better than ever."

"You are a bit pale for my liking."

"Oh, I am much better than when I got here."

"She was almost see-through," Lady Elinor nodded. "But we have instructed the kitchens to bring her plenty of meat. Lady Anne Darcy, her aunt, suffered from the same condition, I think. The late Mr. Darcy was always feeding her dried apricots, meat, spinach, kidney beans, and broccoli, and when we went to Bath, he always tried to find her clams and oysters. She did not like them much but ate them to appease him. She always looked better when she was eating all those consistently."

"Yes, some colleagues are conducting research; apparently, several people are iron-depleted. All those foods you mention are high in iron. That is probably why they helped."

"My mother always said meat did not sit well with me."

The doctor snorted. "Pardon me. I see no medical reason why you cannot eat meat. I recommend you eat a varied diet. Since you are not used to large meals, if you feel any discomfort, you should have smaller meals less spaced out throughout the day."

"Yes, doctor."

"May I do a complete physical? Many of your symptoms make no sense together."

"Yes, please."

Darcy was stopped by Walker.

"You don't want to see that."

"What? Why?"

Walker grimaced, "His face no longer looks like a face for starters."

"Did he tell them where Miss King's letters are?"

"Yes. We will be seeing Mrs. Green again, apparently."

Darcy sighed, "What are they going to do?"

"Richard will be following them to London so that he can be presented to authorities with all the evidence Mr. Young gave us."

"Will you go with them?"

"I think it would be best. I will get to Pemberley as soon as possible."

"Good. I need to talk to Georgiana."

"Darcy… I advise patience and tact with Miss Lydia."

"God. I am trying. That is another mess. Their idea is completely insane."

"Idea?"

"To hide this."

"Do tell."

The earl was glad to see his nieces. Anne looked much better already. There was color to her cheeks. Her eyes were bright, and she was wearing one of Georgiana's dresses. It was white with a delicate floral pattern. She had on a deep green ribbon and her hair was styled in a much more flowy, less severe hairdo that made her look much younger.

"Darling Annie!"

"Uncle!" she rushed and jumped into his arms.

He was pleasantly surprised that she could jump at all. He hugged her tightly. "You look wonderful, my dear."

"Thank you. Uncle… I… I need your assistance."

"Anything," he replied as he kissed his wife's cheek.

"Can you help me send my mother to the dower house so I can finally take over Rosings?"

"Annie…"

"I know she is your sister, but you are the only one I trust enough not to-"

"We need to get you a lawyer of your own that is not in any way linked to her and that we can trust."

Lady Elinor smirked and shared a conspiratory glance with her husband. "I am sure we know just the right man for the job."

"You do? Who?"

"Marcus Walker. Darcy's attorney," the earl replied.

Anne blushed.

Lady Elinor smiled, "Oh, and he meets all the traits you said you wanted. Smart, professional, well-spoken, well-read, cultured, considerate, funny, tall, handsome, and-"

"Darling, should I be jealous?" the earl narrowed his eyes at his wife.

She scoffed. "Never. My heart is yours. Marcus could be my son."

"Thank the Lord for small mercies," the earl winked at his wife. "You have met him, Annie, have you not?"

"Yes..."

"Do you not think he is handsome?" Lady Elinor probed.

"Aunt Elinor!" Anne hid her face with her hands.

"What? I think he would do great as an attorney… And maybe as a husband, but no pressure."

By the time Darcy returned to his house in London, it was very late. This helped him get Miss Lydia out of the carriage. Mr. King Sr. and his son helped him cover Lydia and then continued on to the nearest inn. They would have a meeting in the morning. Mr. Reynolds had already called a doctor. Lydia was very surprised to find herself escorted to a guest bedroom. A maid helped her take a bath while the doctor talked to Mr. Darcy. Once she was dressed in someone else's clothes, a doctor came in with Mr. Darcy. There was another maid with them.

"Miss Lydia, how are you feeling?"

"Much better."

"I am glad to hear it. This is Doctor Riley. He will conduct a physical. The maids will remain for propriety's sake, given that you have no relatives here. I beg you to please be honest with the doctor. We need to know what to expect and plan accordingly," he turned to leave.

"Wait!"

He took a deep breath. All he wanted was to have a drink and go to sleep. He missed Lizzie so much, but he remembered Walker's words, "Yes, Miss Lydia?" he turned back.

She looked terrified and about to cry. "Can you please stay?"

"Stay?"

"Here?"

"Miss Lydia, I cannot. That is most improper."

"Your staff will not say anything, right? And the doctor cannot, right?"

"That is beside the point."

"Please? I am scared… and you will be like my family soon, yes?"

Mr. Reynolds knocked on the open door, "Mr. Darcy, Mr. Gardiner is here for you."

"Oh, thank the Lord!" Darcy felt peace settle over him. "I will be right back, Miss Lydia."

"We can talk at length tomorrow. She needs you."

"Yes, of course. Regardless of what happened, you brought her back. Thank you."

"Go to her. She must be terrified if she asked me to stay with her."

"Oh, absolutely."

Lizzie sighed for the third time in ten minutes. Mrs. Gardiner cleared her throat.

"Dear, tell me what is wrong?"

"You will laugh at me."

"I will not."

"I miss him so much."

Mrs. Gardiner smiled, "Of course, you do."

"Will you judge me too harshly if I tell you we have kissed?" Lizzie winced.

Mrs. Gardiner sighed, "No. I will tell you that you are living in his home and that if you are to be intimate and you get pregnant, then your wedding will have to be rushed. I understand the appeal of that course of action, considering your father's stubbornness. However, I strongly advise against it."

"Aunt Maddie!" Lizzie blushed. "I said we kissed… not that."

Madeline laughed, "Lizzie, dear… I am pregnant. It was not through divine conception."

"Auntie!" Lizzie's cheeks were bright red.

"I mean that I know exactly what happens when a couple in love starts expressing that love for each other physically. Feelings multiply, control slips, and before you know it-"

"We agreed to wait."

"Yes, and you can just as easily agree to change your mind. After all, you are getting married so what does it matter if you wait or not?"

Lizzie blushed, "I will admit that I thought that once or twice."

"Aha!"

"But I mean… Can you blame me?"

"No. I cannot. You are in love. But you could have been seen."

"We were not."

"How are you so sure? This is a vast estate with a lot of staff and people."

"It was in a private place."

"Elizabeth! Did you allow him into your bedroom?!"

"No! There is a small parlor between our bedrooms."

"Mr. Darcy placed you in the chambers for the Mistress of Pemberley?"

"Yes. But we have only kissed and held each other. All we do is talk. We have had some pastries and cocoa. Nothing else."

"Mhmm… While in your sleeping garments?"

"Yes."

"Lizzie, you are walking on very thin ice."

"Why?"

"Your family is here. His family is or will be back here again soon, hopefully with Lydia. Anyone could put two and two together. Miss Darcy, especially, could figure it out. Is that the example you want to set for her? For your sisters?"

Lizzie covered her face with her hands and groaned, "No. Of course not."

"Well, then. When he returns, lock your door and keep your interactions public and proper."

"Yes, Aunt Madeline."

"Bennets!" Georgiana ran to the dining room, where everyone was just sitting down.

"Georgiana, no running. You know better," the earl frowned.

"Sorry, Uncle. It is just that we received an express from William! They found them!"

"Is Lydia safe?"

"She is in our London home. She was hurt but nothing too serious. She was seen by a doctor already. William also says Mr. Gardiner is with her and that they will make arrangements to come here soon. Uncle, this is for you," Georgiana handed him a closed missive. "He said this one is for Lizzie but to hand it to Mrs. Bennet so she can read it first. Oh! And this one is for Anne."

Mrs. Bennet and Anne took the letters. Mrs. Bennet read it after Lizzie nodded. Elizabeth was so anxious to know from him that she did not care who read his letter as long as she got to read it too. Mrs. Bennet skimmed it and handed it over. Lizzie excused herself to get close to a window for better lighting.

"Dearest,

I am sorry I have not been able to write as often as I wanted to... I hope you and your family are well and that Lady Catherine's visit did not upset any of you too much.

We have been… busy. However, we secured your sister. Wickham is currently in debtor's prison. We will be talking to the Kings tomorrow. Mr. Gardiner and I have discussed possibilities. I would feel better if your mother was here to weigh in on the decisions, but I am sure her brother will represent your sister's interests well.

I have missed you every day and can hardly wait to see you and tell you every detail. I will end this letter here because I am exhausted and do not want to ramble.

All my love,

F. Darcy"

The earl smiled brightly. Wickham was finally where he deserved. Richard was coming back unharmed. Miss Lydia had been rescued and was apparently not with child, as far as they knew, and Darcy had barred Catherine from his properties. Things were looking up. Elinor was frowning at him.

"All will be well, darling."

"Thank the Lord."

Anne had chosen to read her letter in private. She was apprehensive. Her cousin had never let her down, but her mother had a talent for burrowing her talons into everyone.

"Dear Anne,

Welcome back to Pemberley. We have missed you. Gigi and I have always wanted you to visit for long stays. I am traveling back tomorrow with Richard and a guest.

My attorney is probably coming with me. He can help you figure out the legalities better, but I really think that all you need to do is fire the staff that is loyal to your mother, and with your new staff have her moved to the dower house. To be frank, Walker could probably help you with that as well. You should have seen him carry her out of Darcy House! It was marvelous! He picked her up by her elbows in her study and carried her to the front door! He threatened to carry her into her carriage in broad daylight in the middle of busy London… Please do not judge him too harshly. In his defense, she said something unforgivable to Richard. She deserved it.

In the meantime, please feel free to enjoy all that Pemberley has to offer. Be free, cousin. Wear whatever you want. Dress however you want. Eat whatever strikes your fancy. Paint, dance, swim, go on walks. The Bennets are excellent company and very welcoming. All Gigi and I want is for you to be happy, healthy, and safe. I am looking forward to a lengthy conversation over cards. And yes, I am prepared to lose. I love you, cousin, and I support you no matter what you want to do.

See you soon,

F. Darcy"

Dinner went on with much better spirits now that they had good news. All was well until Mr. Bennet started demanding to talk to the earl. Lady Elinor advised against it. Mrs. Bennet had written him a note to let him know Lydia was found and would be coming soon. That should have sufficed. The earl had to appease Lizzie and Jane, who begged him not to go.

"Darling?"

"Yes?"

"Please come with me."

"Husband, where are-?"

"Your skills for convincing people to do things they never agreed to do before is uncanny. You coming with me will mess with his balance. Men like Mr. Bennet adore feeling in control."

"Oh, my darling husband. I love your cunning side. It reminds me of our honeymoon... You always find ways to romance me."

"And I always will," the earl kissed her and offered her his arm. "Thomas Bennet, you will rue the day."

"Wait… Thomas Bennet?!"

"Yes. Why?"

Lady Elinor paled. "Oh."

"Oh? Darling?" the earl frowned. Elinor looked scared.

"Perhaps you should talk to him on your own."

"Why, darling?"

"Please do not be upset… He is the man I told you about years ago."

"What?!"