Page 9 of Searching for Elizabeth (A Pride and Prejudice Variation)

—early afternoon—

Fitzwilliam Darcy had already sent an express authorizing agents to look into the possibility that Elizabeth Bennet had fled to her relatives in London. He had also asked Smithson to pry around for any kind of gossip, especially about Longbourn. After eating and putting these investigations into motion, he did the inevitable: he fell asleep in the comfortable leather chair he used while working in Bingley’s library.

He woke up with a stiff neck from leaning awkwardly into the winged back of the chair. Standing and stretching, he rubbed at the soreness and rolled his eyes at his desire to be comfortable when Elizabeth was…well, who knew?

Darcy consulted his pocketwatch and decided to go on some more calls. When he arrived at Longbourn, he asked the housekeeper if Miss Elizabeth was home. She shook her head, so he asked to see Mr. Bennet right away. She steered him down the hall and into the book room, bypassing the parlor.

“Mr. Darcy?”

Elizabeth’s father looked astonished.

“Do you have another warning? Perhaps against Lieutenant Denny?”

“No, no, nothing like that.”

Darcy tried to look pleasant.

“Yesterday, when I asked you if I could call on Miss Elizabeth, you told me that, for now, she is living with the Phillips. But when I called on Mrs. Phillips, she denied that your daughter was there, and she seemed entirely unaware of any plan for her to live there. I know you to be an honorable man, Mr. Bennet—”

although, Darcy thought to himself, it was a hope, not sure knowledge “—so I have to admit that I am mystified at my inability to ascertain where the young lady is residing so I may call upon her.”

Mr. Bennet frowned.

“What are your intentions towards my daughter?”

Darcy was sitting very upright, already, but he stiffened a bit more at the question.

“My intentions are honorable. I find Miss Elizabeth everything lovely, and I would like to get to know her better, to see if we suit. If we decide we do, I would make her an offer of marriage.”

Mr. Bennet looked surprised, which in itself was surprising, and he just stared during a substantial pause. Finally, he said, “Well, Mr. Darcy, I am afraid I have bad news for you, sir.”

His jaw clenched, Darcy’s stomach dropped, and he shut his eyes against the agony of her father saying the words bad news. Was Elizabeth badly injured? Surely not dead?

Mr. Bennet must have read the despair on Darcy’s face and swiftly said, “Oh! Not that kind of bad news! Apologies. I just meant that I do not know where Lizzy is.”

“You do not know?”

“No, I am not sure of her location. She left yesterday with her trunk, and I believed that she was walking to her aunt’s house. Later, you put a bee in that lady’s bonnet, and when I realized that I did not know where Lizzy had gone, I also realized that you had alerted the biggest gossip in Meryton to my lack of knowledge about her whereabouts.”

Darcy just stared at the man. He was contemplating how to answer what sounded like an accusation, but the long silence was too much for Mr. Bennet. With sarcasm in every syllable, Mr. Bennet finally said, “So, thanks for that.”

“Sir,”

and Darcy could hear that his voice had gotten softer and gone down in pitch, “you told me that Miss Elizabeth was living at her aunt’s house. You were very specific, you gave the name Phillips, you said her uncle was a solicitor, and you even explained that she lived close to the center of Meryton.”

He pinched the top of his nose, feeling a slight headache coming on.

“Naturally, since I informed you that I wished to call on Miss Elizabeth, I went to that house. It is not my fault that she was not there, nor is it my fault that you directed me to someone who loves to gossip.”

Elizabeth’s father seemed to deflate. “Quite,”

he said. He shuffled a few papers around on his desk and then repeated, “Quite.”

“Since you do not know where Miss Elizabeth is, might I ask what you have done so far to attempt to locate her?”

“Locate her?”

Mr. Bennet asked.

Darcy was perplexed.

“Yes! I could help you look for her. What if she is injured or in need somewhere?”

Mr. Bennet winced and said, “I just thought she was being independent and impertinent, not following what I asked her to do.”

“And you say she walked? Whilst carrying a trunk?”

“She is not of your social circle, sir,”

Mr. Bennet said. He sounded a little sniveling, like a child making excuses for a misdeed. He went on, “She does not have very many clothes, and her trunk is quite small.”

Darcy stood.

“So I am to understand that your 20-year-old daughter left here, alone and on foot, with all of her earthly possessions, and she simply disappeared, and you have no idea where she went. And that you are making zero effort to discover where she is or what, if anything, befell her?”

Perhaps Mr. Bennet did not like being towered over while he was being scolded, for he also stood. However, Darcy was taller by four or five inches, so he still looked down on the older man.

Who, it turned out, did not try to answer Darcy’s question.

Not answering was, Darcy supposed, a tacit agreement with his summary of the situation, and Darcy asked, “May I ask what precipitated Miss Elizabeth’s leaving of her home?”

“No, actually, you may not!”

Darcy bowed minimally, with no farewell, and he saw himself out. Since Mr. Bennet did not follow him, Darcy closed the door to the book room and looked into the parlor. He saw Miss Mary and cocked his head as if he was pointing to the front door.

Miss Mary seemed to understand, although she did not immediately rise.

Darcy went out the front door and hovered nearby, hoping that Miss Mary would come talk to him.

She did.

“I am hoping you are the one person who knows where Miss Elizabeth is,”

Darcy said. He thought he would lead with a statement, not a question, because he was not sure that Miss Mary would answer any questions.

Miss Mary nodded, which Darcy took to mean that she did know her sister’s location.

“I pray she is somewhere indoors, out of the chilly weather and nighttime freeze. Somewhere with a fireplace and wood or coal?”

Miss Mary nodded again, so Darcy continued: “I hope she has access to food and drinks.”

Nod. Miss Mary whispered.

“Some. Not a lot.”

Darcy shuddered but went on: “I pray that she is safe and healthy.” Nod.

His heart flooding with relief, Darcy remained determined to find out what had happened, and to help if he could. Miss Mary seemed to think Elizabeth was not in imminent danger. But not having a lot of food meant that she was not in the home of a friend or relation, did it not?

“Miss Mary, I came to Longbourn yesterday to call on your sister. I…very much enjoy her company, and I was hoping to get to know her better. Do you think she would consent to my calls, wherever she is?”

“I am not certain, Mr. Darcy.”

Miss Mary was direct and yet polite. Darcy liked that about her. She continued, “I could tell you that she is at Blackthorn Cottage, but that will not help you. It is not on any map, and nobody knows of it other than her and me.”

“She is all alone in this cottage?”

Miss Mary firmed her lips, as if she was unwilling to answer. Which was answer enough for Darcy. He had to find her. Was she nearby?

“Could you ask her if she will take my calls?”

Darcy asked. He watched Miss Mary carefully and saw that she answered swiftly and easily.

“If I can get away for a few hours, I will,”

Miss Mary promised.

“But I am often under orders from my mother, so I cannot be certain how soon I will be able to ask her.”

Darcy was sure, then, that Elizabeth was nearby, no more than an hour or two away by foot. Miss Mary did not seem overly concerned about getting to her, and she had said, tellingly, “for a few hours.”

“And how might I check with you,”

Darcy asked, “to see if you have an answer from Miss Elizabeth?”

Miss Mary flat-out grinned, and Darcy noted that Miss Mary was not as plain as many people had described her. She said, “I suggest that you call here at Longbourn in the afternoon and ask for me. If my mother thinks you are calling for me, she will make sure we have a few minutes of private time to talk.”

Darcy chuckled.

“If I do this, I am pretty sure your mother will be ordering a wedding dress for you and drawing up settlement papers for me.”

Miss Mary laughed, too.

“You and I will know that it is all for Lizzy.”

Then her expression plunged into a dramatic frown.

“And I do not care what my mother does or says. She has lost my respect. Likely forever.”

Darcy caught his breath. He was right, then, when he had first thought that Mrs. Bennet was to blame for whatever had driven Elizabeth out of her home.

“I need to know,”

Darcy said, “did Miss Elizabeth learn about the warning I gave yesterday? Has she heard about Wickham’s vicious proclivities?”

“Oh, yes; I myself told her all of it, sir.”

He wanted to ask more questions, although he was not sure if Miss Mary would necessarily answer. But he did not have the opportunity to interview her further, because Miss Mary turned and hastened back into the house.