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E lizabeth stood at the stove, sterilizing jars for canning.

It was about the only thing she could do without feeling as if she were about to throw up.

This past week she had been miserable—and not just because she missed William.

She was starting to think something was seriously wrong with her.

Her fatigue was so debilitating, she could hardly even think about her problems, much less address them.

She knew she would eventually have to make some decisions.

Just not right now. I can’t bear to think about it.

She heard a truck door bang closed and the clamor of loud, angry voices. She frowned, looking up at the clock. My goodness, they’re home late; I wonder what—

She walked to the front room and was nearly trampled by Lydia bursting through the door in tears.

The distraught girl took one look at her sister and rushed up the stairs without a word, slamming the bedroom door after her.

Elizabeth looked out the front window and spied Kitty and her uncle Ed approaching the house.

Kitty looked miserable, and Ed looked furious.

Elizabeth opened the door and exclaimed, “Whatever happened?”

“I need to see your father, Lizzy. Is he in the house?”

“No, I think he’s at the barn. Uncle Ed, what is going on?”

Kitty interrupted Elizabeth. “I’ll tell her. You can go and find Papa, Uncle Ed.”

Ed looked indecisive for a moment, as if perhaps he thought he should tell Elizabeth what had happened, but then he let out a resigned sigh. “Fine.”

Kitty sat down on the couch and put her face in her hands.Elizabeth sat down beside her, now even more worried, and stroked her hair.

“What is it?Are you hurt? Is Lydia?Do I need to go check on her?”

Kitty raised her head, scowling.“No, she doesn’t need you to check on her . She’s fine. I’m the one who was humiliated, as usual.”She leaned back on the couch and crossed her arms with a huff.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Well, you know we’ve been going into Brighton to sell eggs on Saturdays.”

Elizabeth nodded.

“Last Saturday, we were down at the market and I looked over and Lydia is off at the next stand, talking to some fella. Well, that’s not so strange—and this fella is handsome—but he looks older than her, and he’s kind of a drugstore cowboy.

I mean, what’s he doing all dressed up to go to the farmers’ market?

Sheesh! So, when she comes back, I tell her she shouldn’t be talking to men she doesn’t know, and she gets all in a snit, and tells me to lay off.

She says he’s aces, and I’m just jealous because he looks better than John Lucas and doesn’t smell like sawdust and wood varnish. ”

Elizabeth couldn’t stifle the chuckle that came out of her mouth. Lydia is immature and annoying, but she does have a way with words!

“Lizzy! I’m trying to tell you what happened!”

Elizabeth waved her on. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. Please, go on.”

“So, I say, ‘You don’t even know that guy,’ and she says, ‘His name is George Wilson, and he just moved to Brighton from Chicago. And I told him I was from Chicago too, and we started talking about the theaters and the White Sox, and all the fun things to do there that they don’t have around here.

’So, I figure she’ll forget about him in a day or two, and I don’t think another thing about it. ”

“And what happened today?”

“Well, today we get there and set up our stand and sell the eggs as usual. We had a good day, sold ’em all, and some raspberries too. And John sold two rockers and four cedar chests, and he got orders for three more rockers!”

Elizabeth looked at Kitty, exasperated, and waved her arm in a gesture that said “hurry up.”

Kitty cleared her throat. “Right. So, we’re packing up our stuff to go home—this was about four o’clock.

I turn around, and Lydia is gone. She’s over by the entrance talking to that George guy again.

I hear her big loud mouth just a yammering away.

She gets all excited and comes back to where I am working and says George has invited her to go over to this joint called The Bank to go dancing.

She begs me to take care of the egg money, and she’ll be back in an hour.

That way we can still get home way before dark. ”

“Oh, dear.”

“So, after she leaves, John asks me where they were going, and when I tell him, he says ‘The Bank? Talk around town is that place is kind of a speakeasy, and the crowd is supposed to be pretty rough.’

“Now, I don’t know what to do. So, John and I just wait around for her.

We go over and get some ice cream, and John talks to some of the other woodworkers, and I saw the prettiest quilt.

One of the ladies in Brighton makes them and sells them at the market and different places around.

The pattern I saw was ‘Drunkard’s Path.’Isn’t that a funny name?

” Kitty paused, musing about quilt patterns.

Elizabeth cleared her throat.

“Oh, right. Well, after an hour and a half, Lydia’s still not back, and the market is getting ready to close. So, we’re talking about whether to go get her, and guess who comes up to the stand? You’ll never guess.”

“Who?”

“Never in a million years.Come on, guess.”

“Good lord, Kitty, I don’t want to guess! Who was it?”

“William Darcy.”

Elizabeth’s heart stopped and then started pounding against her ribs.

“My husband?”

Kitty nodded. “I didn’t say anything about you coming home last week, ’cause you told us not to.”

“Thank you for remembering that.”

“Oh, I’m not as dim as everybody thinks.”

“Of course you’re not dim, honey.”

“William doesn’t say anything about you coming home either.

Just says he came over to speak to John about a rocker for his sister’s new cottage.

He asks about everyone at Longbourn—and he did that staring thing of his and emphasized everyone —just like that, ‘How is everyone at Longbourn, Catherine?’”

Elizabeth’s lips twitched. Kitty had done a fair job of imitating William’s deep, imperious baritone.

“Did you ever notice he did that staring thing?”

“Yes, Kitty,” Elizabeth said, exasperated. “I noticed. Now, please go on with your story.”

“Right.So, he asks if Lydia’s with me, and John blurts out, ‘She’s over at The Bank with some fella, name of George Wilson.’

“Well, William gets all in a lather and says, ‘With who?’ like he can’t believe it.

I say, ‘George Wilson.’ And he turns all serious and tells me that George Wilson isn’t his real name.

His name is really George Wickham. He’s just been using that name around Brighton, and he’s not on the level, so if I see him anywhere near us or near Longbourn, I need to get up to Uncle Ed’s and call the sheriff. You all right, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth felt the blood drain from her face, her lips numb with fear. “Oh no,” she whispered.

“Does William know George?”

“Yes. Well, no, not really. He knows plenty about him though. What happened next?”

“William takes John with him to go get her, and they come back with Lydia about a half-hour later.She’s all sulky, and John’s looking all wild-eyed and scared.”

“And William?”

“William’s just scowling like he always does. Jeepers, Lizzy, how do you stand it?”

“Never you mind. Did Lydia believe the truth about George?”

Kitty shrugged. “I don’t know. William told John to take us straight to Uncle Ed’s house. He was going to go and telephone Uncle Ed, so he could tell him to be on the look-out for us and make sure we got home safely.

“John said when they went in The Bank, there was liquor all around. He could smell it. They went over to the booth in the corner, and Lydia was almost sitting in George’s lap, necking.

William tapped her on the shoulder and told her it was time to go home, that her friends were waiting for her.

And he was sure her father would not approve of her spending time in a place like that or in that man’s company.

Then John said George stood up and smirked at William, kind of bumping his chest against him, you know, like men do when they’re about to fight. ”

Elizabeth’s eyes were round. “They didn’t fight, did they?”

“No. They had a couple words—John couldn’t hear what they said because the music was so loud, but I bet William could have taken him.John told me George was a little sozzled, and you know, William’s kind of a big six.”

“A what?” Elizabeth wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not. Kitty’s propensity for slang was getting worse every week.

“A big six—a big, strong fella.”

“Oh.”

“But they didn’t throw any punches or anything, and John was glad of that, because he would have had to have Darcy’s back he said, and some of those fellas looked pretty rough.”

“I’m sure.”

“And then they left George just standing there and walked out.”

“What did Lydia say?”

“Nothing.She cried all the way home. I think because she knows she’s gonna be in trouble. If William hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would have happened.”

“I have a pretty good idea,” Elizabeth said under her breath.

Kitty looked at her, puzzled.

“Never mind.”Elizabeth was relieved that William had left with John and Lydia instead of brawling with Wickham in a dance hall. She hoped he made it home all right.

Elizabeth heard the screen door slam, and she turned to see her father storming in through the kitchen. She could hear her mother sobbing in the background, and Mary trying unsuccessfully to calm her.

When her father spoke, his voice was like ice. “Where is Lydia?”

Both girls looked toward the stairs, and he went up slowly.A minute later, they could hear his yelling and Lydia’s crying coming from above them. Ed came into the parlor and sighed.

“Well, this is a sad business, Lizzy.” He cast a look toward the stairs.

“I must say, your young man certainly came through for our family today. Apparently, this Wickham character is a real piece of work. I spoke with the sheriff after I got off the phone with Darcy. There’s a warrant for his arrest in Indiana, Illinois, and Missouri.

Mob connections too. I think Lydia may have had a narrow escape today.

It was strange, though, Darcy didn’t want you to know that he was the one who found her and made her come home.

He wanted me to keep that from you, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why.

I told him my brother-in-law would certainly like to show his gratitude, or at least thank him in person, but Darcy said it was for the best that everyone think I had found her.

Have you any idea why he would say that? ”

“None.”

“Well, when you go home tonight, give him an extra kiss or two.” Ed winked at her, teasing. “Tell him I hope he’s not upset with me for telling you, but it wouldn’t be right for me to take credit for his chivalrous deed.”

“Yes… I-I will.”

“I’m heading up to the house now.”Ed winced as a fresh round of parental yelling floated down from above. “Goodnight, Lizzy, Kitty.”

“Goodnight, Uncle Ed.”

Elizabeth closed the door behind her uncle. The sounds of consternation were still coming from upstairs, and she knew it was going to be worse once her mother joined in.“I’m going for a walk.”

Kitty sat back down heavily on the couch. “I don’t know why Lydia has to act like she does. Now everyone’s going to think she’s some kind of vamp. What will John Lucas think of me now?”

Elizabeth just shook her head and headed out into the early evening air.