Page 34 of Darcy’s Guarded Heart

Elizabeth

E lizabeth had only just dressed when she descended the staircase, expecting a quiet breakfast. But as she reached the bottom step, the sound of her mother’s exclamations drew her attention at once.

“Oh! Oh, I do not know what to think!” Mrs Bennet cried, fluttering about the parlour like a hen disturbed. “He has done it! He truly has!”

“Done what, Mama?” Elizabeth asked, startled, moving quickly into the room.

Mrs Bennet turned, eyes wide, hair somewhat loosened from its pins in her agitation. In her hand was a folded note, held aloft like a banner. “Gone! Thomas has gone! He has run off to Gretna Green!”

Elizabeth blinked. “Gretna Green?”

“To marry Miss Darcy!” Mrs Bennet wailed, though whether from joy or horror was unclear. “He has taken a carriage in the night and left this letter behind. I never thought our family would be embroiled in such a scandal.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught. “Miss Darcy? He has taken Georgiana Darcy?”

Mrs Bennet nodded furiously. “And not a word to anyone! I am quite beside myself.”

At that moment, Mr Bennet appeared in the doorway, his dressing gown hastily tied, and a grim expression darkening his features. “He has emptied half his wardrobe,” he said simply. “Gone with nearly all his coats, save the summer ones.”

Mrs Bennet turned to him. “He did not speak to you first!”

Mr Bennet gave a small, weary shake of the head. “No. And I can’t say I know what wounds me more—the fact of his leaving, or that he could not come to me.”

“Papa,” Elizabeth said gently, “how could he have? You would have tried to stop him.” Her thoughts swirled as she thought back to her last conversation with Thomas. There had been a hint. Of course there had been. But she’d ignored it. And now this…

“Naturally!” Mr Bennet cried. “Because this—this is folly. It’s a disaster. Thomas has no fortune, no standing, and he is taking a girl not only vastly above him in birth but barely eighteen.”

Mrs Bennet huffed. “Yes, yes, but she must be very fond of him, else she wouldn’t go. And think of it, Mr Bennet—Miss Darcy! He will have married well in the end. Perhaps it is not as bad as we think.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Thomas would never accept Mr Darcy’s money, Mama. Surely, you know that?”

“I quite agree,” Mr Bennet said, his tone dry.

“Thomas would rather work in a warehouse than live off Mr Darcy’s goodwill.

And yet I cannot help but wonder—does Miss Darcy truly understand what life with him would entail?

She has lived in every comfort, dined with nobility, been raised with the highest expectations.

And now she is to live with… us? Or worse, in lodgings? ”

Mrs Bennet sniffed. “Well, perhaps Mr Darcy will not be so hard-hearted. She is his sister, after all. He must help them somehow. And Thomas must accept it if he wishes to ensure a good life for his bride. He will set aside his pride, I know it.”

Elizabeth said nothing. Her mind was racing, her heart troubled. She knew Thomas had been brought to point nonplus, and she admired Georgiana’s courage. Yet, she feared what might await them both on the other side of all of this.

Before another word could be said, the clatter of hooves and the crunch of wheels on gravel echoed through the morning stillness.

They all turned towards the window.

A carriage was pulling up at the front of the house. Not the post. Not the grocer. And far grander than any vehicle belonging to their neighbours.

Elizabeth said nothing, but stepped quietly towards the door, her breath quickening.

The carriage had scarcely come to a full stop when the door swung open, and a tall figure stepped out onto the gravel. Elizabeth recognised him at once. Mr Darcy.

Behind him followed Mr Bingley, looking rather more sober than he had been when last she saw him, and close behind came Jane, her bonnet slightly askew from the hurried journey.

A third figure descended more carefully—a pleasant, composed woman whom Elizabeth recognised from Georgiana’s brief visit as Mrs Annesley, her companion.

The entire Bennet household seemed to hold its breath.

Mr Darcy wasted no time. He approached the house with a look so grave it drew even Mrs Bennet into silence. “Forgive the sudden call,” he said, barely greeting them before continuing, “but I must ask directly—has my sister come here?”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “You do not know where she is?”

“She is gone,” he said simply. “We discovered it only late in the night and set of at first light.” He looked to each of them, though his gaze lingered most on her. “I believe she may have come here. Or else… I fear she may have run off with your ward, Thomas.”

Mrs Bennet gave a dramatic gasp, placing one hand against her chest, while Lydia and Kitty peered down the stairs in undisguised fascination.

But Mr Bennet stepped forward, steady and calm. “She is not here, Mr Darcy. But you are correct. She has gone with Thomas. He left during the night as well.”

Darcy’s jaw tightened. “Then you… knew?”

“I did not,” Mr Bennet replied. “Not until this morning. But he left a letter.” He produced it from his coat pocket. “I do not suppose it will comfort you, but it may clarify things.”

Mr Darcy reached for it without a word. His expression was unreadable, but his hand trembled faintly as he unfolded the paper.

“I think we ought to speak in private,” Mr Bennet said. “Gentlemen, if you’ll follow me to the study.”

The three men disappeared down the corridor, the door to the study clicking shut behind them.

Elizabeth stood still in the centre of the hall, heart pounding.

Mrs Bennet, still quite breathless, turned to her daughters. “Well! A runaway match with a Miss Darcy! Who would have imagined it? I always thought Thomas had a mind of his own, but this is beyond any expectations. Mrs Annesley, did you not suspect that anything was amiss?”

Mrs Annesley shook her head, her eyes sad. “No, I knew she had been sad but this? No, I did not see it coming.”

“Well, I shall see you to the kitchen for a cup of tea,” Mrs Bennet said and escorted the older woman inside, leaving Jane and Elizabeth alone for a moment.

“How are you here, Jane? And with such company?” Elizabeth asked her sister as she escorted her inside.

“I had meant to say something… but now may not be the right moment.”

“Nonsense, child! If it is good tidings, then speak. We could do with something cheerful amidst all this running about and scandal,” Mrs Bennet said.

Elizabeth turned towards her sister, noting for the first time the quiet brightness in Jane’s face. Her cheeks were flushed, and though her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, there was a softness about her that had not been there these many weeks.

“I wondered,” Elizabeth said slowly, “why you arrived with Mr Bingley… and Mr Darcy.”

Jane nodded and smiled shyly. “They came to Gracechurch Street last evening. Both of them. Mr Bingley asked to speak with me—and with Aunt Gardiner present, of course.”

Mrs Bennet leaned forward. “And what did he say?”

“That he had been… misled,” Jane said carefully. “That he allowed himself to be unduly influenced. By his sisters, and by Mr Darcy.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. Jane continued.

“He said he had missed me terribly. That not a day had passed without thinking of me. And he asked—he begged—for my forgiveness.”

Mrs Bennet clutched at her kerchief. “Oh, my dear Jane. You are too good! Of course you forgave him!”

Jane smiled, her eyes full. “I did. But not just him.”

She glanced at Elizabeth. “Mr Darcy also spoke. He admitted his part in it, plainly. He said it was not from malice, but out of… something unresolved in himself. That he acted without thinking.”

Elizabeth looked down at her hands. Her heart had started to stir before she realised it. She thought of Thomas’s words weeks ago, spoken with quiet certainty—that Mr Darcy had acted out of jealousy, that he had been shaped by old wounds and rivalries.

And yet, he had come forward. He had helped make things right.

That sympathy Elizabeth had once fought to suppress—the very feeling she had buried when the hurt had been too fresh—now crept back in. Not fully formed, but there. Steady, undeniable.

But now was not the time.

Thomas was missing. Georgiana too. And while her feelings threatened to rise, she pressed them back with effort. There would be time for such thoughts later.

Just then, the door to the study opened.

Mr Bennet emerged first, his mouth drawn in a tight line. Mr Darcy followed, his face unreadable, and Mr Bingley last, adjusting his coat as though preparing for immediate travel.

“Well,” Mr Bennet said, addressing the room. “There is no help for it. Mr Darcy and I shall go after them at once. It may yet be possible to reach them before the matter is… formalised.”

Elizabeth stood at once. “I am coming.”

Mrs Bennet gasped. “Elizabeth! A journey to Gretna Green? With men?”

“I must go. Thomas and I are closer than anyone there and I can talk sense into him. Besides, Georgiana shall need a female influence near her, not be surrounded by all these men.”

Mr Darcy glanced at Elizabeth. For a brief moment, something passed between them—acknowledgement, perhaps even gratitude—but no words were exchanged.

“She admires you,” he said, his eyes piercing through the last of her barriers.

“She is my friend,” Elizabeth said firmly. “And Thomas and I are as close as brother and sister. If this is to be stopped, I must be there.”

Mr Bennet gave a single nod. “Then we shall leave at once.”

Elizabeth turned without delay, already preparing herself for the long road ahead.