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“Oh, Wickie. That is terrible. Whatever are you going to do? It’s so unfair.”

Wickham ran his hand up Lydia’s calf, over her knee, and onto the inside of her thigh above her stocking. Even that did not shake him from his foul mood.

“There is only one thing for me to do. Tomorrow I will take a train to Southampton. The place is bustling with ocean liners always looking for staff. I will seek my fortune there.” He stood and crossed his arms in a determined fashion.

“Oh, but George. You can’t leave. You can’t. What will become of me?”

The tears were making their way down her cheeks, which made her look all the more adorable. He could take her with him, and why not? They could make the crossing to America. He could enjoy her on the way, and then? Oh, why think that far ahead?

“Come with me. We’ll go together.”

“And will we be married then? After all, you promised, and I do love you so.”

He cleared his throat. “Of course. We’ll be married. We’ll be married… in New York. Yes, that’s it. New York.”

It was then they hatched the plot. She would leave for Selfridges in the morning as usual. She was always the last to leave the house, save the servants. This time, however, her bags would be packed for New York.

***

No sooner had Lizzy arrived home, she began to construct a plan to get back to London to continue her work with the suffragettes.

She would again be employed and independent, and lastly she’d find Mr Darcy and talk to him frankly about all that had happened…

before he left for America. She confided her idea to no one, including Jane.

It was odd, but she felt as though she didn’t need anyone, not even her beloved sister, to accompany her this time.

The path seemed clear to her, and she felt that she could face anything now.

All this optimism about the future came to a screeching halt when Lizzy descended the stairs for breakfast and saw her father standing in the front hall, holding a telegram.

“Papa?” With shaking hands, he handed the paper to Lizzy.

Knightsbridge, London

Mr Bennet come at once Lydia missing

Mrs K. Forrester

Her father shrugged helplessly at her. “Oh, Lizzy. What are we to do?”

Elizabeth realised then how ineffectual her father had been in rearing them. In fact, he had hardly participated at all, leaving most of the work to their mother.

She could blame her parents, but she had to be honest. This entire situation was her fault.

If she hadn’t gone on that window smashing campaign, she, Jane, and Lydia would still be at Selfridges, and Lydia would have been under the watchful eye of herself and Jane.

As it was, she was left in the care of people of dubious responsibility, and now, this disaster.

Elizabeth said a silent prayer that Lydia was still alive. Anything could happen to her in London.

“We’ll set off for London at once. I will go with you. Send a wire to Uncle Gardiner and apprise him of the situation. If he can, he will go to the Forresters ahead of us and ascertain what they know. Come, Papa.”

***

Bags packed and sitting next to them on the platform, Lizzy and her father waited for the noon train. They had been waiting for nearly an hour, the minutes ticking away slowly, before Kitty pushed her way through the crowd and rushed over.

“A letter, Papa. A letter from Lydia.” Kitty sat on the other side of their father and both she and Lizzy peered over his shoulder as he tore open the envelope.

Dear Mama and Papa,

You will be so happy when you hear my news.

I am going to America. Mr Wickham, whom Lizzy and Jane know, has got us both jobs on a ship.

It is the newest and biggest ship ever built, and they were looking for people to work on board.

I have a job as a stewardess, can you believe it?

and will be serving the first-class passengers.

My dear George will be working as a waiter in first class.

We both gave our notice at Selfridges yesterday.

Here is the best news of all. George said that we will be married as soon as we arrive in New York. Won’t Jane and Lizzy be jealous when I am married before them? We set sail on April 10, so I must close. Please do not worry about me. I am in good hands with George.

Your daughter,

Lydia

Her father gave Lizzy a desperate look, then turned to Kitty. “Go home. Tell your mother that Lydia is alive and well and we hope to bring her home soon. Go on, now.”

Kitty kissed her father’s cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

“Who is this Wickham? Lydia said you and Jane know him.”

Elizabeth toyed with the idea of not telling him her honest opinion, but the time had passed to spare his feelings.

“He won’t marry her, Papa. He is a libertine of the worst kind.

No doubt he got himself into some difficulty with a jealous husband or gambling debts and had to leave the city, and what better way? ”

“You sound like you know him quite well.” Her father’s eyes narrowed.

“Yes. He courted me for a time before he found a rich, married woman to carry on with. That didn’t stop him from preying on the younger, female members of the staff at Selfridges. Lydia is deluding herself if she thinks he will marry her.”

“We must stop her, then, but we don’t even know what ship she is on.”

Lizzy patted her father’s hand. “Give me the letter. I think we can determine where she is and rescue her before it is too late. We still have time to wire my uncle. He needs to meet us in Southampton.”

***

The SS New York and the RMS Titanic docked next to each other at the Southampton harbour. When they all arrived at the port, it was only hours from departure for one of the ships.

“She has to be aboard the Titanic . The SS New York just arrived, and no other ships are scheduled to depart today.” Mr Gardiner was poring over the shipping schedule.

“You will never find her on that monstrosity before it departs. She could be anywhere.” Mr Bennet wrung his hands as he gazed at the titan docked in the harbour.

Lizzy stood with the two men on the dock, gazing in awe at the ocean liners.

“One of us must sail with her.” Her uncle appeared resolute.

Elizabeth had been thinking the same thing but didn’t know how that could ever be arranged in so short a time.

Her father looked like a frightened rabbit.

He could never go. Her uncle had his own family to consider.

It would have to be her. Her luggage was hardly enough for an ocean voyage, but it was something, but the ticket?

How could they even afford such a thing? And perhaps the ship was fully booked.

As if reading her thoughts, her uncle looked at her. “You’ll have to go. It’s the only way. I’ll see if I can arrange it.”

Within the hour, she was walking up the gangplank with the other passengers, a second-class ticket on the RMS Titanic in hand. She would have been content with steerage, but her uncle wouldn’t hear of it. As a steward showed her to her cabin, a terrifying thought seized her.

What if this was the wrong ship? What if Lydia had laid a trail to divert them and wasn’t on board at all?

What if she and Wickham were still in London, holed up somewhere, laughing at all of them?

And most importantly, what would Lydia’s disgrace do to Jane?

Would their youngest sister’s rash behaviour ruin them all?

***

Darcy settled into his stateroom, allowing his valet to unpack under his supervision.

The White Star Line really thought of everything.

The four-poster, curtained bed was nearly as large as the one he had at home.

Walnut wainscotting rose to nearly halfway up the wall and was met by exquisite wallpaper.

The coffered ceiling of ivory and gold leaf was opulent to say the least. A comfortable, overstuffed chair, a small table with two chairs, and an ample wardrobe completed the state room.

He usually wasn’t impressed by such luxury, having grown up in the midst of it, but this room really was very impressive.

He tipped the valet, and then settled down in the chair to think for a moment.

He didn’t know if he was doing the right thing.

By the time he returned, perhaps Lizzy would have another suitor, and then it would be too late.

No, he shouldn’t deceive himself. His cause was lost, and he needed to set himself on a different path.

Removing himself from painful memories and travelling to America was just the thing.

He resolved to take a turn about the deck to pass the time when a steward brought him a telegram.

Darcy took it. It could just be a bon voyage message, or something could be wrong at home.

Perhaps Georgiana had met with an accident.

Neither of these things were in the message and it couldn’t have surprised him more.

Hertfordshire, Meryton

Lydia Bennet run off with Wickham might be on your vessel Stop see what you can do most urgent

Bingley

What in God’s name? A chill ran through him.

Wickham was a predator and another young and foolish quarry had been entrapped in his snare.

This didn’t bode well for Bingley’s wedding plans to say the least, and it could bring ruin upon Elizabeth and her sisters.

Their marriage prospects were not the best as it was.

The girls might have to seek employment in the city as their eldest sisters did or go into service.

It certainly wasn’t fair, but society had a double standard in regard to the behaviour of men and women.

The idea of a stroll abandoned, Darcy set out to see if Wickham was indeed aboard this vessel.

The telegram didn’t say if he was a passenger or a crewman or if they were married or not.

Married? Surely not. Wickham wouldn’t marry unless he could attach himself to money.

The first step was to persuade a steward to let him see the roster of male crew members.

When he came on deck, all was a hubbub. Passengers were boarding in great numbers and looking for their accommodations.

He didn’t see one crewman who wasn’t engaged in several activities at once.

They would be no help until everyone was aboard and they were safely out to sea.

He would look among the passengers then.

Knowing that Wickham had almost no money, he never did, Darcy would look first in steerage.

After making his way from the bridge deck where his stateroom was located, and down crowded stairways, he arrived at the shelter deck.

He peered into a smoking room in which a few men who were decidedly not first-class passengers lounged about inside with cigars.

Wickham was not to be found. The next attempt was a deck lower at the saloon deck.

The first-class dining room was empty and rather quiet.

None of the dining rooms were populated, but all the hallways, staircases, and decks teamed with people making their way to their accommodations.

The crush of passengers and crew made the situation impossible.

If Wickham and Lydia were aboard, he would have to find them later.

Struggling between the steamer trunks, the bellboys and bedroom stewards, and the seething crowd of passengers, Darcy wrestled his way back to his stateroom.

The search would recommence when they were out to sea.

He resolved to remain in his cabin until then.

After all, there was no one to see him off.

After divesting himself of his celluloid collar and tie, he settled back to Ethan Frome .

Even if Elizabeth was never to be his wife, she’d changed him in many ways, expanding his horizons.

He never would have considered reading an American novel written by a woman before he met her.

He opened the book. For a few hours, at least, the Bennets and their troubles would have to wait.