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THE NEXT DAY , Elizabeth woke to her husband’s voice in her ear, his whiskers whispering against her neck, as he said that he wouldn’t mind getting right down to the business of getting with child with all seriousness, and something unfurled deliciously in her body as she rubbed her bare skin into his.

They were kissing in what could only be termed a frenzy when there was a frantic banging on the door of her husband’s bedchamber.

He broke their kiss only long enough to issue a bark that they were not to be disturbed and then went back to kissing her senseless.

The banging came again. “Sir, it’s your sister! She’s gone.”

So, this necessitated their getting dressed immediately and leaving the bedchamber.

Georgiana had left a letter, left it in the breakfast parlor, right in the midst of the table. Her husband read it, crumpled it up, and slammed his fist with the ruined letter into the table. Then he left the letter and stalked out of the room.

Elizabeth darted over to pick the letter up, smooth it out, and read it for herself.

She was stunned.

She hurried out to find her husband going up the stairs to his bedchamber. “Fitz, how could he even be here? He is with the militia in Meryton!”

Nothing from her husband.

She rushed after him. “If she had been seeing him secretly, we would have known. She is never alone, is she not? She goes straight to her school and comes directly home. How could this be?”

Mr. Darcy ignored her and bellowed for his valet to dress him.

She came in after him.

The valet scurried in, gave her a look, and then went directly to her husband’s wardrobe. “Riding clothes, sir?”

“Of course,” said Mr. Darcy to the valet. To her, “They can’t have gotten that far. It’s a long ride to Scotland, and Georgiana will not wish to travel at breakneck speed. I’ll catch them up. I think this time, I shall have to kill him, however.”

Elizabeth twisted her hands together. “I should have said something. When I was considering making a match for her, she described the sort of man she wanted, and the physical attributes… well, I suppose I should have realized she still had some fancy for him, but I dismissed it.”

Her husband didn’t respond.

“I suppose I cannot come along.”

He looked up at her. “After I bring her back, we shall all go to Pemberley. I cannot allow her to be running free in town. I have spent too long not keeping an eye on her, and this is the consequence.”

She licked her lips. “Yes, the country. I do long to see Pemberley, of course. And that is likely best for her.”

“I know you wished to be in London, but you must see that isn’t possible anymore. I am sorry if you are disappointed.”

“No, of course I understand.”

Too quickly, he was simply gone, and she was left alone in the house to wander around, feeling as if she had been run over by a stampede of wild horses. She could not make heads or tails of it, truly.

When had Mr. Wickham come to town? How had he gotten to Georgiana? Why was she so eager and willing to go away with him? Did Georgiana wish to marry that man?

She was still reeling when something truly mad happened.

A servant arrived with a letter for her, one that he insisted must be delivered only to her own hands. He waited as she read it.

It was from her sister, Mary. It outlined the fact that their sister Lydia had gone missing, leaving behind only a note indicating that she had eloped with Mr. Wickham .

Elizabeth dropped the letter with a cry.

Then, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat gone off the rhythm of the rest of the band, she picked it back up again to read that there was a hope that they would receive news soon that Lydia and Mr. Wickham were, in fact, married, but that certain inquiries amongst other officers had led them to worry that Mr. Wickham’s intentions were less than honorable and that there was some cause for worry.

Mary said their mother was beside herself and that no one in the household was doing anything about it, but that Mary wondered if Elizabeth might speak to her husband, who was somewhat acquainted with Mr. Wickham, was he not?

The servant wanted Elizabeth to write out a reply to send with him.

She didn’t know what to say.

She told the boy to wait for her, and then she got herself ready and had the carriage take her across town to the Matlock household, where she arrived in the midst of breakfast, shown in to where the family was dining and Lady Matlock looked at her with sheer horror at the intrusion.

“I wonder if I might speak to Colonel Fitzwilliam alone?” said Elizabeth, all in a flutter. This was all highly irregular. “It’s a matter of some urgency, I’m afraid.”

The colonel had been smiling at her arrival, but his countenance went grim as he took in the state she was in. He got up from the table and escorted her into a nearby sitting room.

“I understand that you and my husband share guardianship of Miss Darcy,” she said, for her husband had indicated this to her. “He would have sent word to you, I’m sure, if he’d had the time, but he left in a rush very early to go after her.”

“After her?” said the colonel. “Oh, Christ, it’s not him again, is it?”

“Mr. Wickham?” she said in a small voice.

“It is,” said the colonel, looking even grimmer, if that were possible.

“It’s all quite strange, sir,” she said. “We have had two letters arrive within hours of each other, both indicating that Mr. Wickham has eloped with a different girl. One of them my sister-in-law and the other my own sister.”

“What?” said the colonel, drawing back.

She explained it all as well as she could. She produced both letters. He read them, looking more alarmed by degrees as he did so. He looked back and forth between the letters, shaking his head, flummoxed.

“What do you think it means?” she said. “He cannot have taken both of them, can he?”

The colonel handed one of the letters back to her, still gazing down at the other. “I suppose your husband has already gone in pursuit of him?”

“Yes,” she said.

He handed back the other letter. “Well, he can only be bound for Scotland, I suppose, whichever girl he has with him. I shall go after Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham and get to the bottom of this.”

“But if you find him, and he only has Miss Darcy, what will that mean about my sister Lydia?” said Elizabeth.

“He will know what he has done with the other girl and I shall get the information out of him,” said the colonel, and there was something hard in his tone.

Elizabeth had a realization that this man was no stranger to violence, serving in the army as he did, and it settled into her. She gave a quick nod. “Well, good, then. ”

“You did the right thing to bring this to me, Mrs. Darcy,” said the colonel. “I shall be off immediately. You must go home and wait for the return of myself and your husband once we have gotten to the bottom of this.”

“Oh, of course,” she said. “I must stay here.”

“This is not a task meant for gently bred ladies,” he said.

Except, of course, it involved gently bred ladies, two of them. But she only nodded.

The colonel lifted a finger. “However, would you be so good as to tell Miss Bingley that I shall not be able to call upon her today? I think she may be expecting me.”

“Yes,” said Elizabeth. “Certainly.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Darcy,” said the colonel. “Try not to worry overmuch, if you can. Between myself and your husband, we shall get to the bottom of this.”

“ELIZA, WHAT IS the meaning of this?” said Caroline.

Elizabeth was in the drawing room of the Hurst household, and it was still quite early in the morning, far too early for calling upon anyone at all. Caroline was dressed, but hastily, and her hair was in a braid, and she was fiddling with the collar of her morning dress.

“I am here primarily to bring you a message from Colonel Fitzwilliam,” said Elizabeth.

She had first gone back home and written a letter to be delivered back home, saying that her husband had gone after Mr. Wickham, but that the situation was quite puzzling, for he had seemingly also abducted Miss Darcy.

She worried about setting this information down in a letter, but she thought, if it were delivered by a servant, not in the regular post, it must be safe enough.

Besides, her family must know what was happening, how strange it all was.

She did not feel right about keeping information from them, not when it concerned Lydia.

“Oh?” said Caroline. “At this hour of the morning? ”

“But it is more than that,” Elizabeth said. “It is all very bad and very confusing, and I do not wish to be alone right now.”

“Sit down,” Caroline urged her. “Tell me everything.”

So, Elizabeth did.

Caroline reacted with shocked gasps to each new wrinkle in the tale, shaking her head, fingers to her parted lips. When it was all out, Caroline was entirely silent.

Elizabeth let out a breath and sat in the silence with her friend.

“What can it mean?” said Caroline. “He cannot have both of them, can he?”

“I don’t know,” said Elizabeth. “He certainly can’t marry both of them.

I think, if he wishes to marry, he must prefer Georgiana to Lydia, so it makes me worry that he abducted Lydia, for she was taken earlier, and that he used her ill and then abandoned her and went for Georgiana instead.

Lydia could, then, be anywhere, all alone, having been ravished and with nothing, no money, no way to get home, and I am frightened that neither my husband nor the colonel will give as much worry to her safety as to Georgiana’s. ”

“Yes, I can see why you would worry,” said Caroline. “But Mr. Darcy will protect your sister, I am sure of it.”

“Yes, but if she has been abandoned God knows where, then how shall we ever even find her?”