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M r. Bingley did not come that day, as he was still bound to the rule of coming only once every three days, but they had a surprise visitor in his place.

“Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Hill announced.

Elizabeth, Jane and Mary were in the drawing room, attending to their workbaskets; Kitty was in the garden, gathering blooms. Elizabeth gasped upon hearing that name; Jane looked at her quickly, concern on her face. Mary simply looked surprised.

The three girls rose and curtsied; Elizabeth kept her eyes on the ground, her heart pounding furiously. Mr. Darcy here at Longbourn! What could it mean?

Jane said, quietly, “You are most welcome, Mr. Darcy. May we offer refreshments?”

“Thank you, Miss Bennet, that would be very kind.”

“You are staying at Netherfield?” Jane continued, hoping to give Lizzy some time to compose herself.

“I am, though, I have not yet been there. I chose to come to Longbourn first.” Mr. Darcy glanced at Miss Elizabeth, hoping she would speak.

“I am certain Mr. Bingley will be glad to see you,” Jane went on.

Mr. Darcy nodded in response, and then said, “I have only lately learnt of Mrs. Bennet’s passing; I offer my sincere condolences to all of you. She was a most excellent woman, and her loss must be felt keenly by the entire village, as well, of course, by her family.”

The girls all thanked him, warmed – and surprised – by the sincerity in his voice.

After a brief silence, Elizabeth finally looked at him. “I hope you left Miss Darcy in good health?”

“I did, yes; she is visiting with my aunt and uncle in London.”

“Oh! You went to London?”

“Yes; in fact, we journeyed there shortly after you left us.” Mr. Darcy leaned forward, prepared to explain why he undertook that journey, but just then the tea tray arrived, and cups and plates had to be handed around.

Mary distracted him from his purpose by saying, “I understand Miss Darcy to be a great proficient on the pianoforte, Mr. Darcy.”

“She most certainly is,” Elizabeth said, firmly. “I do not think I have ever before heard such a performance, let alone from so young a performer!”

“She has been playing all her life,” Mr. Darcy said. “I cannot recall a time when she was not at the keyboard.” A fond smile played over his face as he thought of his young sister. “But let me tell you why I went to London.”

“I assume you went to visit your relatives,” Elizabeth said.

“No, indeed; Georgiana insisted on joining me, and since I knew I would not be at Darcy House for long, we agreed that she would visit the Matlocks. But my primary purpose in going to London was to see if I could find your sister.”

The three girls gasped aloud.

Mr. Darcy continued, “I knew all about Wickham’s proclivities, having grown up with him. A better man would have warned all of Meryton about him, but I chose to say nothing. The fault is mine, and I hope the remedy might be mine as well.”

“Have you had any success?” Mary asked.

“None whatsoever.” Mr. Darcy went on to describe the actions he had taken, ending with, “If I had drawings of her, I might have better luck. Mrs. Gardiner –“

Elizabeth interrupted. “You went to see the Gardiners?!”

“Of course; I know that your mother was Mr. Gardiner’s sister, so I paid a condolence call. I also asked if she might assist my efforts with drawings of Miss Lydia.”

Jane chuckled. “I assume she told you that she could not do so. I have seen Aunt Gardiner’s attempts at drawing.”

“Quite right; but she suggested that Miss Kitty might be able to produce such drawings.”

“Oh! I will fetch her at once.” Mary rose and left the room.

With just the three of them in the room, Mr. Darcy felt a bit bolder. “How are you, Miss Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth replied, hesitantly, “It has been hard; I missed my mother’s funeral, you know.”

“Yes; the summer weather would have necessitated quick action,” he said.

“I understand why it happened, but I regret not having been with my family at that time. And, of course, the uncertainty surrounding Lydia is something that haunts us every day. The elopement was bad enough, but where is she now? Is she alive? Is she dead?” Her voice caught and she stopped.

“Of course; how could you feel be otherwise?” He imagined, just for a moment, that it was Georgiana who had vanished into the cesspool of London’s slums, and shuddered. “But I will do everything in my power to answer those questions.”

“And the Bow Street runners are still looking for her while you are here with us?” Jane asked.

“Oh, I have done even better. I have managed to have my cousin come to London to help with the effort.”

Elizabeth looked astonished. “Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

“Yes, precisely.”

“He left his regiment to help find Lydia? I can scarcely believe it!”

The look on Mr. Darcy’s face caused Elizabeth to add, “He was not best pleased at the assignment, I take it?”

“Once I explained the necessity, he complied willingly enough.” Mr. Darcy stared hard at Elizabeth, willing her to understand that she was the reason for the necessity.

Mary reappeared with Kitty; the news of Mr. Darcy’s search for Lydia had been explained to her. “I can draw pictures of Lydia,” she said immediately. “I do not know how good they will be, though.”

“What I have now is simply her name,” Mr. Darcy said. “Any likeness, no matter how imperfect, would help.”

Kitty promised to have at least one drawing completed by the following afternoon, and Mr. Darcy was invited to return to see it. Mr. Darcy agreed, adding, “May I be permitted to see Mr. Bennet before I leave for Netherfield?”

“Oh, of course,” Jane said, and led their guest to Mr. Bennet’s study. She knocked on his closed door, heard him bid her enter, and ushered Mr. Darcy into the room. “Papa, Mr. Darcy asked to see you.” She curtsied to her guest and left.

Mr. Bennet scowled at Mr. Darcy.

“I deserve your enmity,” Mr. Darcy said at once.

“In that, we are in agreement,” Mr. Bennet said, bitterness lacing his voice. “You separated Jane from Mr. Bingley; you kept your knowledge of Mr. Wickham’s villainy a secret. Do you deny any of this?”

“Not at all; I am entirely at fault.”

“Then what have you to say for yourself?” Mr. Bennet demanded.

“Only that I am doing my best to remedy my faults. I told Bingley that I had been entirely wrong about Miss Bennet, and I apologised sincerely. He immediately returned to Netherfield, as you are doubtless aware.”

“None of that alleviates Jane’s months of suffering!” Mr. Bennet said, slapping a hand down on the table.

“No; there is nothing I can do to alter the past,” Mr. Darcy said. Leaning forward, he added, “Mr. Bennet, have you never done something that you deeply regretted? Few of us are so fortunate.”

Recalling the conversation he had had with Jane about his treatment of Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Bennet’s scowl softened. He leaned back in his chair and said, quietly, “A direct hit, Mr. Darcy.”

“I had no intention of wounding you, sir; only to remind you that to err is human.”

“Not being divine, it is not incumbent upon me to forgive; but I will only ask what you can do to repair your other error.”

“Miss Lydia? I left Pemberly to go to London with the express intention of finding her.”

Mr. Bennet scoffed. “Find her in London? Like finding one drop of water in the ocean!”

“I cannot disagree, but I am attempting it nonetheless.” He recounted again the actions he had taken on Lydia’s behalf, including his visit to the Gardiners and his enlistment of Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Miss Kitty has promised to draw Miss Lydia’s likeness and show me the drawing tomorrow.”

“Kitty is the best artist in the family, and she and Lydia were close; I do not doubt that she will do a creditable job.”

“There is another thing, Mr. Bennet.”

“Is there, indeed?”

“Yes; I am in love with Miss Elizabeth and hope to make her my wife.”