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A footman brought the post. She slit open the seal on the letter and read with satisfaction.

“Written from Brighton last Sunday a week ago,” she mused.

“Very good. Very good indeed, and well worth the wait. He will never wish to return to her now.” She glanced at the clock.

Too early for a celebratory glass, she thought.

She penned a quick note and rang for the footman.

“Have this taken to the parsonage immediately.” A good dinner, a few well-placed words, and that ridiculous parson would have the news spread all over Hertfordshire. The Lucases loved to talk.

Elizabeth leaned back against the carriage cushions.

The carriage was hot and airless, the road was rough, and she felt lightheaded from worry and lack of sleep.

Her emotions during the trip had given her the feeling that she was a child’s kite set adrift to soar, then plummet, on a capricious wind.

Her feelings for Darcy had astonished her as she explored their depth and breadth.

She had spent only a few minutes, at most, in his arms—yet her whole being longed to feel the strength and tenderness of those arms around her again.

She could summon up his quiet voice, his dark eyes, the excitement of his kisses.

She wanted no one but him, and there was a sense of elation as she reflected that he had professed the same feelings for her.

Then, as soon as she allowed herself the peace and comfort of these convictions, Lydia’s actions would intrude, clamoring for her attention, convincing her that despite Darcy’s assurances, she would never be worthy of him.

She had disturbing visions of sending him away.

It would be for his own good, and she would long for him forever.

She occupied as much of the trip as she could chatting with her aunt and uncle or trying to read, but her thoughts always seemed to intrude. Her rest at the inns where they stopped was fitful and disturbed, and her dreams had taken on a dark cast.

Darcy and her Uncle Gardiner had proven themselves well up to the task of organizing the journey and the search.

Each was supplied with the London direction of the other as well as a rough itinerary.

Mr. Gardiner would escort the ladies, then leave for London, sending word to Mr. Darcy as soon as he reached his home in Gracechurch Street.

An express had been dispatched to Jane informing her of when to expect them.

Elizabeth and Aunt Gardiner would go directly to Longbourn to support Jane and Mrs. Bennet as they awaited further developments.

Darcy had arrived shortly after dawn on the morning of the departure, and while the farewells had been public, he had managed to reassure Elizabeth, once again, of his love and regard.

She carried in her reticule his card with the direction of his house in London and instructions to get word to him--and hang the propriety--if she felt she needed him.

He planned to leave for London that very morning.

From time to time, she would touch the card as if seeking reassurance from it.

She began to muse on the hour or the minute when she had first come to love Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Was it after receiving his letter at Hunsford?

That had convinced her that he was a man of integrity.

Was it during the months that followed while she had ample time to ruminate on her stinging rejection of that first proposal?

Or was it as recent as the tour of Pemberley when the housekeeper had spoken of him with such fondness and respect?

Elizabeth concluded that it must have been a continuing process involving all three of those milestones.

She and Jane had often wondered how they would decide that a man was “The One,” the one they could marry for love.

She confessed to herself that while she could not account for why she was certain of Darcy, she was sure of her certainty.

That line of reasoning threatened to give her a headache, and she gratefully began another conversation with her aunt.

Their arrival at Longbourn, a little before midday on their third day of travel, was chaotic. Elizabeth had to be restrained from jumping from the carriage before it stopped, and she rushed to embrace Jane as the Gardiner children gathered around their parents.

As the adults stood in the front hall, Jane said, “Mother has been asking for you, Lizzy. But before we go up, a most unexpected express has been delivered this morning. It was directed to my father but, Uncle, the gentleman who wrote it claims an acquaintance with you.” She produced the letter from the book she was carrying.

“It is from a Mr. Evan Caldwell, and from the manner of his address, I believe he must be a Quaker.” She handed the letter to her uncle.

“If what he says is true, then it is very good news. I have said nothing about it to my mother. In fact, let us go into my father’s library to read and discuss this. I should like for Mama not to hear it.”

“Evan Caldwell is very well known to me,” said her uncle. “In fact, he and his wife, Anna, are our nearest neighbors in Gracechurch Street, and we have known the family for years. And yes, Jane, they are Quakers.” He opened the letter and read it hastily.

“Evan and Anna have Lydia! She arrived at our house last Monday evening in a hackney and was in great distress when she found the house closed, the knocker off the door, and all the servants gone. She was in strong hysterics when Evan found her and brought her to Anna.” Mr. Gardiner looked up from the letter.

“Evan says she would neither eat nor speak for several days, and they have only just persuaded her to tell them who her father is and how she came to be in Gracechurch Street. He believes she was abducted or lured to London under false pretenses and used the last of her money to take the hackney to our house in an effort to preserve her virtue. He commends her for being a good, strong girl.”

“Well, we can always hope,” said Elizabeth.

“No, Lizzy. What Mr. Caldwell says aligns perfectly with what Lydia said in this note she left for Mrs. Forster.” Jane brought out a second folded letter from her book. “She sincerely believed she was going to Gretna Green to be married.”

Elizabeth scanned the letter. “What a letter to be written at such a time!” she exclaimed. “But you are right, Jane. There was no wrong intention on her side.”

“I believe I should leave for London after dinner,” said Mr. Gardiner with a look at his wife. “Our horses cannot travel another step, but I should be able to hire a chaise at the inn at Meryton.”

“Oh, yes,” said Elizabeth. “Let us send one of the men over to arrange for it now.”

“Dinner is almost ready,” added Jane. “We should go up to Mother.”

The visit with Mrs. Bennet was intense but of mercifully short duration.

They greeted Kitty and Mary, who were sitting with her, before turning to a recital of her various tremblings and flutterings followed by an hysterical plea to her brother to stop Mr. Bennet from becoming embroiled in a duel with Wickham.

Everyone listened sympathetically, Elizabeth kissed her mother, Mr. Gardiner reassured her that he would take care of them all, and they were blessedly interrupted by Hill announcing that dinner was on the table.

Much of dinner was spent listening to Mary’s platitudes on the subject of feminine virtue and sisterly consolation with an additional catalogue of complaints from Kitty about how mean everyone was being to her.

The elders had agreed that nothing would be said to the younger girls, or to their mother, until Lydia was safe with her father.

Aunt Gardiner and the children were to stay at Longbourn for a few more days.

Shortly after dinner, the chaise was at the door. Uncle Gardiner embraced his wife and children and kissed his nieces, and when it was Lizzy’s turn, he said quietly, “Do not worry, my dear. I will get a message to Mr. Darcy immediately.” Then he was into the carriage and gone.

That night, when the house had finally become quiet, Elizabeth opened her heart to Jane, who was incredulous. “Mr. Darcy! You are joking, Lizzy! This cannot be! I know how much you dislike him.”

“In such cases as this, a good memory is unpardonable. The time we spent at Pemberley last week gave us the time we needed to understand our true feelings. You must believe me. He is coming here to wait on Papa, and we shall be married.”

“Be serious, Lizzy! When did you first know you loved him?”

Elizabeth smiled mischievously. “I believe it must have been the first time I saw his beautiful grounds at Pemberley.”

Jane pushed her away.

“No, I will be serious. He has grown so very dear to me that I cannot imagine going through life without him.”

Jane, now convinced, had no choice but to embrace her sister, wishing her every happiness.

Elizabeth, for her part, enjoyed a night of restful and restorative sleep.

London, Tuesday, July 21, 18__

Mr. Gardiner, arriving in London somewhat late, and knowing that his house in Gracechurch Street would be closed, and the servants on holiday, went directly to the hotel where his brother-in-law was staying.

Mr. Bennet shook his head. “I have no news for you. They were traced as far as Clapham, but no further. They changed to a hackney coach at that point, and I have been unable to locate it. Colonel Forster had pressing duties, and he has left to rejoin his regiment in Brighton.”

Mr. Gardiner settled into an armchair. “I have good news, Brother. Lydia is found. She is found, and as far as we know, she is unhurt.”

“I have not the pleasure of understanding you.”

“We arrived at Longbourn just before dinnertime today. An express had arrived this very morning, directed to you, which Jane quite properly opened.”

“Yes, yes, those were my instructions.”