To Conquer Mr. Darcy

Elizabeth’s distress on reading this was great, and she scarce knew what to say or how to look. Lydia and Wickham! She grieved for her lost sister, she feared for the well-being of her family, and she could only be horrified by the prospect of Darcy’s response to this news. His sister-in-law, not only ruined, but by Wickham! The mortification would be nigh unbearable, and such proof of the weakness of her family must make him regret their alliance. How were they to explain what could not be hidden to Georgiana?

She could not hide this intelligence, however, and despite her fear over her reception she knew she must go to him immediately—but how could this not come between them in the most hurtful manner? Was one day of marital happiness all they were to have? She caught her breath on a sob, and before her courage could fade away, she took herself to his study, where she found him working behind his desk.

He looked up as she appeared at the door, and, seeing her look so miserably ill, he said with more feeling than politeness, “Good God, what is the matter?”

She looked at his beloved face and burst into bitter tears. He strode to her side immediately. “Elizabeth, what is it? You must tell me, dearest. Is it news from Jane?” Wordlessly she handed him the letters, and then sat down, unable to support herself any longer.

Darcy, torn between reading the letters and comforting Elizabeth, who was clearly beyond any explanation of the matter, compromised by kneeling beside her and taking her hand while he scanned the letters. His face was fixed with astonishment as he read the first, and when he came to the second, a few words unsuited to a lady’s presence escaped him. She burst into tears on seeing his contracted brow, and she covered her face with a handkerchief, not wanting to see his face when he looked up at her with knowledge of her sister’s disgrace.

His shock and horror was great, but his concern for Elizabeth was even greater. He put his arms around her compassionately, wishing for something he could say that would comfort her.

“When I consider,” she said in an agitated voice, “that I might have prevented it! I, who knew what he was. Had I but explained some part of it only—some part of what I learnt, to my own family! Had his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all, all too late now.”

“It is too late to stop it, but not too late to mend it, dearest. They shall be found, and he shall be made to marry her,” he said in what he hoped to be a reassuring manner.

She shook her head in distress. “Nothing can be done; I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!”

He took her face between his hands and forced her to look at him. “Elizabeth, there is nothing easier in the world than working on Wickham—all it takes is money. If I know Wickham, he will not be hiding so much as waiting to be discovered so that he can make his demands. You must have faith in me, my dearest; you know that I have dealt with him before, and I can do it again.”

She looked at him with eyes filled with pain. “I cannot ask it of you—you cannot take on the mortification of this; it is a matter for my family.”

“Good God, what do you think I am? You married me yesterday, Elizabeth, and I am your family, and, if I may venture a guess, I am the ultimate cause for this dreadful affair, and it lies to me to remedy it,” he said forcefully.

“How could you be the cause? It is Lydia’s weakness, Lydia’s folly, and my wretched, wretched mistake of failing to explain what I knew when my eyes were opened to his real character.”

Taking a deep breath, he said, “Elizabeth, please listen to me. Does Lydia know of our engagement?”

“I cannot say—I suppose she must, that my mother must have written her with the news; she no doubt sent it to everyone she could,” she said hesitantly.

“And Lydia would no doubt have reported it to Wickham, knowing his opinion of me. You cannot suppose that she was the true inducement—she has no money that can tempt him, but she has that connection to me. No, Elizabeth, this has everything to do with me; this is just what he attempted last summer with Georgiana, but now he is trying to strike at me through you.”

She stared at him in horror—she had not thought so ill, even of Wickham, as to think that his vengeance would extend so far. Darcy, misinterpreting the look on her face, leaned his forehead against hers, and whispered sorrowfully, “Can you ever forgive me, my dearest, for bringing this upon you?”

“You have done nothing to cause this,” she said fiercely. “You are not to blame for Wickham’s behavior, nor for Lydia’s, and I will not have you fault yourself for it!”

He held her close to him, wishing that he could take this grief from her. “Elizabeth, I need to consider what must be done. Is there nothing I could bring you for your present relief? A glass of wine, shall I get you one?”

“No, I thank you, nothing but you,” she said none too fluently.

He removed himself to the chair beside her, where he could continue to hold her hand while he considered matters. Finally he said, “The Gardiners will return here tonight; even if I sent a messenger to Matlock now, it would not bring them back in time to leave today, and there is no point in worrying them before anything can be done. You and I shall leave for London tomorrow morning, where we will meet your father and begin efforts to discover them.”

“Jane asks me to return to Longbourn, and I have no doubt she needs my help and support in dealing with my mother,” she said tentatively.

Darcy shook his head decisively. “Jane does not know the full situation, and she has Bingley with her for support. I will need you with me to deal with Lydia; I doubt she would listen to anything I have to say—and I will need you myself, I have no doubt. Perhaps the Gardiners could go to Longbourn instead.”

It will take me some time to accustom myself to the idea that my first loyalties must now go to him, and not to my family, she thought. I must remember that I am his wife now, as unconventional as our wedding may have been. With an unpleasant shock, it came to her how their abrupt marriage would look to her family in light of these new events, and what her father would feel faced with another daughter who had been rushed to the altar.

The day seemed interminable to Elizabeth. She would have preferred to be taking some form of action, but apart from overseeing the packing for the trip to London, there was little she could do but wait and worry. Her mind kept flying to Lydia, fretting over her safety as well as her future, for what future could there be for her, either as Wickham’s wife or as a ruined woman? Wickham would never be able to provide for her in any sort of acceptable manner—her lot would be continual poverty and the misery of a marriage to a liar and wastrel, and this was to be the best possible outcome. The humiliation and misery that Lydia was bringing on her family also pained her; not only would it materially affect the marriage chances of Kitty and Mary, and delay, possibly indefinitely, the wedding of Jane and Bingley, but its effects on the Darcy family must be considered as well. She could only imagine the extent to which Darcy would be mortified by the continued connection to Wickham, and there was no question that the news would be hurtful to Georgiana. Darcy had been clear that he did not wish to blame her in any way for it, but Elizabeth could not help but worry whether his ability to keep separate his feelings about Lydia and about her was strong enough to keep this affair from contaminating his affection for her.

Her anger and shock at Lydia’s behavior led to further unpleasant thoughts as she considered her own conduct in recent days and weeks. She was appalled by Lydia’s choices, yet how were they so very different from her own? Was it not mere good fortune on her part that her lapses, though every bit as grave as Lydia’s, were to go quite unpunished while her sister suffered irreparable damage? She had begun to feel less troubled by her permissive behavior as it became clear that the consequences would not be severe, but this situation could not but bring back to her awareness the gravity of her own errors.

The Gardiners and Georgiana returned in the late afternoon, and after Darcy had taken a few minutes to greet his sister, he asked the others to join him in his study, where Elizabeth was awaiting them. One look at her face was enough to convince Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner that all was not well, and after they had perused Jane’s letters and heard an explanation from Darcy detailing his connection with Wickham, as well as the past behavior of that gentleman, they readily offered any possible help in resolving the situation. While in general agreement with the plans drawn up by Darcy, Mr. Gardiner felt that his presence in London could be useful, and after some discussion it was resolved that he would travel to town with Darcy and Elizabeth while Mrs. Gardiner proceeded to Longbourn, accompanied by servants from Pemberley for her safety and the sake of propriety. She would stay there as long as