Page 66 of Succession

M r. Darcy put his mother’s suggestion into practice immediately, sending a trusted under-secretary to Meryton to put up at the Red Lion and surreptitiously watch Longbourn and Netherfield for Mrs. Darcy. He had chosen his man with care; while it was known by all that Mrs. Darcy had left Pemberley, Mr. Darcy had not wanted to have it bruited about that her destination remained unknown.

The man returned, some ten days later, saying that he had seen a good deal of coming and going between the two estates, but there had been no sign of the mistress at all.

Vastly discouraged, for he had held out great hope for this stratagem, Mr. Darcy thanked the man gravely and retreated to his study, where he sat for an hour with his head in his hands, not sparing so much as a glance at the pile of correspondence on his desk.

Elizabeth had now been gone more than a month, and each day – each hour! – had been pure misery. Elizabeth! He missed her terribly, but more than that, he was very worried that she had come to some harm. He offered up a bargain to the heavens. If he was destined to live without her, he would do his best to accept that fate, as long as she was well! Please, please, let her not be lying in a ditch somewhere as the result of a broken carriage wheel! Please, please, let her not have been set upon by highwaymen! He could think of a hundred things that might have occurred to prevent her from returning to Pemberley or to Longbourn, each more dreadful than the last. He slept only a few hours every night, instead pacing the floor, trying to think of where she might have gone and how he might find her.

Georgiana interrupted his anxious musings, walking into the study so stealthily that he did not hear her footsteps. “Brother?”

He raised his head. “Yes, Georgiana?”

“I saw that Alfred had returned; is there any news?”

“None.”

“Oh, Brother! I had such hopes!”

“As did I.”

“No news from Bath?”

“I have had messengers arrive saying that so far no trace of her has been found.”

“Will you continue to send out search parties?”

“Yes, I think I must. I imagine the coach overturning, and poor Elizabeth lying –“ Here his voice broke. Rather than appear unmanned before his sister, he rose and turned to look outside the window.

Georgiana had no such compunctions, as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. “We were so, so awful to her when she arrived; I can never forgive myself.”

“No, nor can I,” her brother agreed, softly.