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Elizabeth recognised the trap she had unwittingly walked into.

If she suggested that Jane had formed a new attachment, Caroline would seize upon it to discourage her brother’s interest. If she denied it, she would be encouraging Bingley’s return to Netherfield, which might lead to uncomfortable questions about Lydia’s absence from the family circle.

“Jane’s heart has always been her own to bestow,” Elizabeth said diplomatically. “But I would not have Mr. Bingley return to Netherfield with expectations that might lead to disappointment.”

“Disappointment?” Bingley’s brow furrowed. “You suggest Miss Bennet might not welcome my return?”

Elizabeth hesitated. “I merely suggest that unexpected departures can leave lasting impressions, Mr. Bingley. Jane is not one to speak ill of anyone, but neither is she unaffected by circumstances that might appear to indicate indifference.”

“Indifference!” Bingley exclaimed. “I never felt indifferent toward Miss Bennet! Quite the contrary. I had hoped... that is, I had thought my admiration was evident.”

“Your departure from Hertfordshire without taking leave of the family might have suggested otherwise,” Elizabeth said gently.

Bingley looked stricken. “But that was... I had urgent business in London! I intended to return within days, but then...” His voice trailed off as he glanced at Darcy.

“Then you were persuaded that your presence was required elsewhere,” Elizabeth finished for him, her tone softening at his obvious distress. “Jane could not know your reasons. She could only observe your actions.”

“Do you believe she would refuse to see me?” Bingley asked, his usual confidence completely vanished.

Before Elizabeth could formulate a response that might discourage his visit without revealing her true concerns, Caroline intervened.

“Really, Charles, this is hardly appropriate dinner conversation,” she said sharply. “Mrs. Darcy cannot be expected to reveal her sister’s private feelings. Besides, your interest in Netherfield seems decidedly premature. We have only just begun our procession North.”

To Elizabeth’s relief, Darcy signalled for the dessert course to be served, effectively ending that particular line of conversation.

The conversation shifted once more, but Elizabeth noticed that Bingley appeared distracted, his earlier enthusiasm dimmed.

She caught Caroline studying her with narrowed eyes, a calculating expression that suggested she suspected Elizabeth’s discouragement stemmed from something beyond concern for Jane’s feelings.

The remainder of the dinner passed in a blur of forced pleasantries and careful evasions.

By the time the ladies withdrew to the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to their port, Elizabeth felt as though she had navigated a battlefield rather than hosted a dinner.

Caroline’s pointed inquiries about Wickham, combined with Bingley’s enthusiasm for returning to Netherfield, presented a tangled web of potential disasters.

The carefully constructed story protecting Lydia’s reputation, and by extension the respectability of the entire Bennet family, hung in the balance.

Darcy stood at the grand entrance of Pemberley, watching as the Bingley carriage disappeared down the long drive.

A sense of relief washed over him as the vehicle finally rounded the bend and vanished from sight.

As hospitable as he had endeavoured to be, even the brief visit of a single night had taxed him considerably, particularly Miss Bingley’s thinly veiled attempts to recapture his attention despite Elizabeth’s presence as his wife.

Bingley had been in excellent spirits, particularly when Jane Bennet was the topic of discussion, a topic Bingley had returned to repeatedly.

His friend’s intention to return to Netherfield before the autumn was increasingly obvious.

It was clear to Darcy that the attachment to Jane had not diminished despite their long separation.

Caroline Bingley, however, had been another matter entirely.

Her pointed remarks, thinly disguised as pleasantries, had grown increasingly difficult to ignore.

She had made numerous comments about the “unfortunate connections” that came with marrying into the Bennet family, all while maintaining a veneer of polite conversation.

Darcy walked through the main hall towards his study, his footsteps echoing against the marble floor.

The house felt different now with just his immediate family in residence.

Quieter, certainly, but also unburdened by the constant necessity of maintaining appropriate conversation.

He had barely settled at his desk when a soft knock interrupted him.

He recognised Elizabeth’s particular pattern immediately, and something in the urgency of it caused him to rise quickly.

“Come in,” he called, moving around the desk as Elizabeth entered, her face a portrait of controlled concern.

“I hope I am not disturbing important business,” she said, closing the door behind her. There was a furrow between her brows that Darcy had come to recognise as a sign of worry.

“Nothing that cannot wait,” he assured her, gesturing to the chairs near the fireplace. “Something troubles you.”

Elizabeth crossed to the offered seat but did not sit immediately. Her hands clasped and unclasped before her, a rare display of agitation from a woman who typically maintained remarkable composure.

“It is about the Bingleys,” she began, finally taking her seat. Darcy joined her, leaning forward slightly to indicate his full attention. “Or rather, it is about Lydia.”

For a moment, he did not understand her concern. And then, all of a sudden, the light dawned.

“You are concerned that they know Lydia is not here,” Darcy said.

“Yes.” Elizabeth met his gaze directly. “Caroline Bingley has never been known for her discretion, particularly when sharing information might elevate her own standing. If the Bingleys return to Netherfield, as I believe is Mr. Bingley’s intention given his renewed interest in Jane, they will undoubtedly call upon my family. ”

“And mention having visited Pemberley,” Darcy continued, following her reasoning with growing unease.

“Precisely. One careless comment about Lydia’s absence from Pemberley, could quickly unravel the entire fabrication.

” Elizabeth’s voice remained steady, but Darcy could see the worry in her eyes.

“My mother knows nothing of Lydia’s true situation.

If she learns that Lydia is not where we have claimed. ..”

“The consequences could be severe,” Darcy finished.

He rose and crossed to the window, looking out across the grounds as he considered the implications.

The carefully constructed narrative they had created to shield both Lydia and the family’s reputation had always been precarious, but he had not considered how the Bingleys’ visit might endanger it.

“I fear that one wrong word could expose the entire ruse,” Elizabeth continued. “My mother would be devastated, and the scandal would affect not only Lydia but all my sisters. Jane’s prospects with Mr. Bingley could be ruined before they have properly rekindled.”

Darcy turned back to face her, taking in her troubled expression. A wave of guilt washed over him. He had encouraged this deception, had facilitated it with his resources and connections, all while perhaps not fully appreciating the delicate balance required to maintain it.

“I should have considered this possibility,” he admitted.

“You could not have anticipated the Bingleys’ unannounced visit,” Elizabeth countered, ever fair-minded even in her concern.

“And the plan was truly an excellent one, with only a very few people knowing that Lydia was not where she was claimed to be. It is only now, with Mr. Bingley’s clear intention to return to Netherfield, that I see the danger.

Even if they do not return, it is clear that Caroline Bingley maintains a correspondence with someone in Meryton.

A letter from her could bring all undone. ”

Darcy returned to his seat, his mind already working through potential solutions. “We could write to your mother, to prepare her for any potential inconsistencies in the story.”

Elizabeth shook her head regretfully. “My mother cannot keep a secret of this magnitude. Any attempt to explain would only result in the very exposure we seek to avoid.”

She was right, of course. Darcy rubbed his forehead, feeling the complexity of their situation anew. What had begun as a necessary deception to protect Lydia and the family name had grown into an increasingly tangled web.

“I will not allow your family to suffer this exposure,” Darcy said firmly, reaching across to take her hand. Her fingers were cool in his grasp. “We shall find a solution.”

“If only there were a way to resolve Lydia’s situation permanently,” Elizabeth said softly. “Rather than continuing this pretence indefinitely.”

The idea lingered between them, unspoken but understood. Lydia needed a husband, a legitimate marriage that would transform her from ruined girl to respectable wife.

Darcy squeezed her hand gently. “I shall devote myself to resolving this. The Bingleys will be in Scarborough for at least a fortnight. That gives us some time.”

Elizabeth’s smile was small but genuine, the worry in her eyes softening somewhat at his assurance. “I knew I was right to bring this concern to you.”

“Always bring your concerns to me,” Darcy said earnestly. “Your burdens are mine to share, Elizabeth.”

She nodded, some of the tension leaving her stance. “It is a comfort to have a partner in these difficulties. I had grown so accustomed to bearing such worries alone.”

The simple honesty of her statement touched him deeply. For all her strength and independence, Elizabeth had indeed shouldered heavy responsibilities within her family. That she now trusted him enough to share these burdens filled him with a profound sense of purpose.

“Perhaps,” Darcy said thoughtfully, “we might consult with Colonel Fitzwilliam. He has connections in the military that might be useful in this situation.”

Elizabeth tilted her head, considering. “In what way?”

“He might know of officers seeking advancement, men of good character who might be persuaded to marry, given the right incentives.” Darcy chose his words carefully, not wishing to suggest that Lydia should be married off to just anyone. “My cousin in an excellent judge of character.”

“That is a possibility worth exploring,” Elizabeth agreed, her expression brightening with hope. “Would you write to him?”

“Today,” Darcy promised. “I shall explain our predicament and ask for his counsel.”

Elizabeth rose, and Darcy stood with her. “Thank you,” she said simply. “For taking this seriously.”

“How could I not?” Darcy responded, surprised by her gratitude. “Your family’s wellbeing is of utmost importance to me.”

She smiled then, a genuine smile that reached her eyes. “Not every husband would consider his wife’s sister’s reputation worth such effort.”

“Not every husband is married to you,” Darcy replied, the words escaping before he could moderate them.

A slight blush coloured Elizabeth’s cheeks, and she looked away momentarily. “I shall leave you to your correspondence, then. Georgiana mentioned wanting to practice a duet this morning.”

“Of course.” Darcy watched as she moved towards the door, her steps lighter than when she had entered. “Elizabeth,” he called as she reached the threshold. She turned back, her hand on the doorknob. “We will find a solution.”

She nodded once, her expression softening with a trust that humbled him, then departed, closing the door quietly behind her.

Darcy returned to his desk, pulling out a fresh sheet of paper.

He would write to Colonel Fitzwilliam immediately.

As he dipped his pen in the inkwell, Darcy reflected on how thoroughly his life had changed since marrying Elizabeth.

Never would he have imagined becoming so invested in the wellbeing of the Bennet family, yet here he was, devoting himself to salvaging the reputation of its most wayward daughter.

For Elizabeth’s sake, he would do this and much more. With renewed determination, he began to write.