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Chapter Ten

Elizabeth had never considered herself particularly stubborn, merely firm in her convictions when the situation warranted.

The current predicament certainly warranted firmness, she decided, as she stood in her husband’s study at Pemberley, listening to the gentlemen discuss their arrangements to travel to Leicester where her youngest sister Lydia awaited their arrival.

The exclusion of her own name from their plans had not escaped her notice, nor did she intend to let it pass without comment.

“I shall be ready to depart by seven tomorrow morning,” she said calmly, interrupting the conversation between her husband and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Both gentlemen turned toward her with matching expressions of surprise, though Darcy recovered first, his features settling into the particular look of gentle concern that Elizabeth had come to recognise as his manner of preparing to deny her something.

“My dear, we had thought it best if you remained at Pemberley with Georgiana,” he said. “The journey will be taxing, and the situation... delicate.”

Elizabeth folded her hands before her, the picture of composed determination. “I am well aware of the delicacy of the situation, Mr. Darcy. Indeed, I believe that is precisely why my presence is required. Lydia will surely want at least one of her sisters with her at such a time.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam cleared his throat. “Mrs. Darcy, your concern for your sister does you credit, but we must consider what is proper. A young woman in Miss Lydia’s... condition... receiving gentlemen callers is one thing, but…”

“But receiving her sister along with those gentlemen callers is quite another,” Elizabeth finished for him, unyielding. “I cannot imagine any argument for propriety that would exclude me from accompanying my husband to see my own sister, particularly when she faces such significant decisions.”

The colonel appeared somewhat chastened, but Mr. Darcy’s expression remained troubled. Elizabeth crossed the room to stand beside him, laying her hand lightly upon his arm.

“Fitzwilliam,” she said softly, using his Christian name with deliberate intimacy, “You know I would not insist without good reason. Lydia will need a woman’s counsel in these matters, and not Mrs. Wilkins, who she has known only a few weeks.

For all the wisdom and practicality you and Colonel Fitzwilliam possess, there are aspects of this situation that only a sister might properly discuss with her. ”

Mr. Darcy’s countenance softened slightly. “I had hoped to spare you the journey and the... unpleasantness of the circumstances.”

“I appreciate your consideration,” Elizabeth replied, “but I would far rather face unpleasantness than know I had neglected my duty to my sister. Besides,” she added with a hint of her characteristic wit, “having already weathered the storm of her initial indiscretion, I believe I am quite prepared for whatever may follow.”

The colonel, who had been watching this exchange with the air of a man who knows when he has been outmanoeuvred, offered a small smile. “Mrs. Darcy makes a compelling case. I daresay Miss Lydia would benefit from her sister’s steadying influence at this juncture.”

Elizabeth inclined her head in acknowledgment of this support, then turned her full attention back to her husband. His dark eyes studied her face with an intensity that still sometimes made her breath catch, even after more than two months of marriage.

“Very well,” he said at last. “If you are determined, then of course you must come.”

“I am quite determined, and indeed will not hear of your going without me!”

As the gentlemen resumed their discussion of practical matters, her thoughts turned to the true reason she insisted on accompanying them.

Beyond the natural desire to support Lydia through this ordeal, Elizabeth harboured concerns about her sister’s understanding of her situation.

Lydia had always been wild and impulsive, with little regard for consequences.

Even now, sequestered in Leicester under the guise of a young widow, Elizabeth doubted whether her sister fully comprehended the gravity of her position.

Without marriage to Captain Wallace, Lydia’s future would be bleak indeed.

The fiction of widowhood might serve for the present, but it could not be maintained indefinitely.

Elizabeth knew she must make Lydia understand that, barring a respectable marriage, she could likely never return to Longbourn or move in society alongside her family again, even if she was willing to give up her child.

This painful truth must be delivered with both firmness and compassion, a task Elizabeth felt uniquely qualified to perform.

Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam could manage the practical arrangements and negotiations with Captain Wallace, but only Elizabeth could properly counsel her sister on what lay ahead.

“Elizabeth?” Mr. Darcy’s voice broke into her reverie. “Colonel Fitzwilliam was asking whether you had informed Georgiana of our journey.”

Elizabeth gathered her thoughts. “Not yet. I shall speak with her this afternoon.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded approvingly. “I am sure my young cousin need not be troubled with the specifics of this unfortunate business.”

“On the contrary,” Elizabeth disagreed. “Georgiana has shown herself to be both sensible and discreet beyond her years, and she is already fully aware of Lydia’s situation. Concealing anything from her at this juncture would invite distrust.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked as though he might argue the point further, but Darcy nodded, backing Elizabeth’s decision.

“I agree, Elizabeth. Georgiana will feel nothing but relief that Lydia’s situation may be resolved happily.

I have learned my lesson about not telling my sister truths because I think her too young to hear them,” he said warningly to his cousin.

“I failed to warn her of Wickham’s character, and look what trouble that very nearly landed us in! ”

“A fair point,” Colonel Fitzwilliam conceded gracefully, and then he smiled ruefully. “I suppose I do not want to think of little Georgie as growing up!”

“She is going to London for the Season next year,” Elizabeth said pointedly, “the object of which being, eventually, to find her a husband.”

“Heaven forfend!” The colonel actually looked appalled. “Darcy, however will you refrain from challenging every would-be swain at sword-point?”

“Duels have never been my favoured method of settling disagreements,” Darcy said with an amused glance. “I shall merely glare them all away, never fear!”

The arrangements continued to take shape over the next hour.

They would depart early the following morning, travelling in Mr. Darcy’s comfortable carriage to cover the considerable distance to Leicester.

Letters had already been dispatched ahead to alert both Lydia and Mrs. Wilkins of their imminent arrival, and Darcy had included at request to Mrs. Wilkins that she approach the local vicar to inquire about obtaining a common licence so Lydia could marry immediately, without needing to wait for banns to be read.

As the discussion came to its conclusion, Elizabeth excused herself to begin preparations for their absence.

Walking through the grand corridors of Pemberley, she found her mind occupied with the tangled web they were weaving.

One deception necessitated another, and then another still, until she could scarcely keep track of which stories had been told to whom.

Lydia’s supposed widowhood, the carefully timed marriage to Captain Wallace, and the continued separation from their family at Longbourn who must never guess the truth, all these fabrications twisted together in Elizabeth’s mind like an intricate but fragile piece of lacework.

She had never been comfortable with falsehood, preferring honest speech even when it proved less convenient.

Yet here she was, not only participating in this elaborate charade but insisting on her right to do so.

For Lydia’s sake, she reminded herself. For the innocent child who deserved a chance at respectability.

For their parents and sisters, who would otherwise be devastated by the complete ruination of one of their number.

Elizabeth paused before a window overlooking Pemberley’s magnificent grounds, drawing strength from the serene landscape before her.

What was done could not be undone. Lydia’s indiscretion could not be erased, but its consequences might yet be managed with sufficient care and foresight.

Whatever misgivings she harboured about their course, Elizabeth knew with certainty that she must see it through to its conclusion.

With renewed resolve, she continued on her way to speak with Georgiana and make arrangements for their absence. The tangled web might trouble her conscience, but she would not allow it to ensnare her sister’s future if she could prevent it.

As the Darcy carriage drew to a halt before Mrs. Wilkins’ small house, Elizabeth felt her heart quicken with apprehension.

For all their careful planning, the success of this venture depended largely on factors beyond their control: Lydia’s willingness to cooperate, Captain Wallace’s true character, and the possibility of genuine accord between two strangers about to be bound in matrimony under the most unusual of circumstances.

“Are you quite ready?” Mr. Darcy asked quietly as the footman opened the carriage door.

Elizabeth nodded, summoning a composure she did not truly feel. “As ready as one can be for such a meeting.” She had no more time to prepare herself, at any rate; Colonel Fitzwilliam and Captain Wallace had dismounted their horses and awaited them at the steps.

Elizabeth accepted her husband’s hand as she descended from the carriage, taking a moment to arrange her travelling clothes before following the men into the house, where Mrs. Wilkins was waiting with a welcoming smile.