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An Inducement Into Matrimony By JenP. Section I, Chapter the First: A Secret Revealed Posted on Wednesday, 30 June 2004 "So how was the long awaited Netherfield ball?" Wickham asked his fellow officers on his return from London. "It was a grand time," replied Chamberlayne. "The younger Miss Bennets were exceedingly attentive to all of us." "Miss Lydia took my sword," said Saunderson laughingly, "and put on quite a display." "And Miss Elizabeth asked after you particularly," added Denny suggestively. "She seemed extremely disappointed by your absence." Wickham smirked smugly, "Of course she was, I've got her wrapped around my little finger." "Well you seem to have competition, for she was singled out by none other than Mr. Darcy." Wickham clenched his fists as he growled, "The very fiend I'd hoped to avoid by removing to London!" Seeing Wickham's visceral response, his friends continued to tease him. "And he danced with no other young lady the entire evening." This piece of intelligence aroused Wickham's interest. He raked his fingers through his thick golden waves as he pondered this new information, ignoring his friends who continued their discussion of the ball. So he singled her out, he thought, but Darcy hates to dance. The only time I've ever known him to pay such particular attention to any young lady was when he fancied himself in love with Miss Bertram! Wickham chuckled to himself at the recollection of Darcy's young heart being crushed by that lady's desertion so many years ago, and of his own pleasurable interludes with her. Wickham recalled the day he and Darcy had seen one another in the street in Meryton. It occurred to him now that he had been talking with Miss Elizabeth Bennet at that moment. Could Darcy's angry countenance that day have been due to more than his history with me? he wondered. Wickham was surprised by Darcy's choice. Elizabeth Bennet was undeniably appealing, but he never would have guessed Darcy would appreciate her spirit. He smiled to himself. Could Darcy be in love? . . . Perhaps I shall have my revenge after all, he reflected as he thought back with satisfaction on his previous conversation with Elizabeth. Taking leave of his friends, Wickham went to the stables where the regiment's horses were kept and had a large black stallion saddled. He rode to Netherfield hard and fast, giving free rein to the beast as he fed the vengeful appetite that was welling up within him. He arrived at Netherfield, his horse in a lather. He noticed servants loading trunks and furniture into wagons. Leaving the animal with the groom, he strode purposefully up the front steps and pounded on the door. "I demand to speak with Mr. Darcy!" he informed the astonished butler. The butler disappeared up the grand staircase. He returned presently and said, "Mr. Darcy is occupied at this time. He is not receiving visitors." The butler then closed the door and went about his business, but Wickham remained on the step, determined to see Darcy. He looked up toward the open window and shouted, "Darcy! Come out and face me like a man, you coward!" He continued in this manner for several minutes, as servants assembled around him, gaping at the spectacle. At length, Darcy appeared, his anger apparent, his eyes blazing with indignation. "What is the meaning of this?" he inquired forcefully. "Is my presence so distasteful to you that you must flee the neighborhood?" he sneered. "Wickham, you give yourself far too much credit," replied Darcy. "Now what is your real purpose for this vulgar display?" "I know your secret, Darcy," he taunted mercilessly. Darcy paused in bewilderment. "I have no idea what you are talking about," he said. "Do you not? I believe you made it rather plain by only dancing once at the ball." Darcy, who had assumed this conversation must have something to do with his sister, was shocked. "That signifies nothing," he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, hoping to avert Wickham's suspicion. "In other men, perhaps . . ." "You presume too much." "I think not. I have fond memories of Miss Bertram." Darcy, unwilling to gratify that speech with a response, turned as if to walk inside. "Have a pleasant journey," said Wickham. "Do not be concerned about Miss Elizabeth in your absence. She will be in good hands . . . mine." Without saying a word, Darcy whirled around and drove his fist into Wickham's jaw so forcefully that Wickham's head snapped back and he tumbled down the steps. When he reached the bottom, he rolled over and leapt to his feet. As he winced at the sting of pain, a new thought entered his mind. "I will have my revenge, Darcy!" he proclaimed. Swiftly mounting his steed, Wickham galloped in the direction of Longbourn. Incensed, Darcy ordered Bingley's strongest, fastest mount to be saddled and brought around, and followed as soon as he could. Chapter the Second: To the Rescue Posted on Sunday, 4 July 2004 On Thursday morning, Elizabeth escaped Longbourn and her mother's recriminations regarding her rejection of Mr. Collins' marriage proposal the day before. She was relieved by her father's support of her choice, but she was disgusted by her mother's insistence that she marry for mercenary reasons because she had always felt that nothing but the deepest love would induce her into matrimony. However, she was cheered by thoughts of her sister and the attentions Bingley had shown her at the ball. She hoped that when he returned in a few days' time he would be ready to propose. Perhaps Mrs. Bennet would be so pleased by such a circumstance that she would forget about her disappointment over losing Mr. Collins as a prospective son-in-law. Elizabeth could not help but reflect on her family's behavior at the ball and could only pray it would not affect Bingley's intentions. Lost in these meditations, she scarcely heard the approach of a horse behind her. "Good day, Miss Bennet," Wickham greeted her. Elizabeth turned to look into the sparkling blue eyes of Mr. Wickham and could not help but notice how well he looked sitting astride a large black horse. She returned his civil address as he dismounted. Seeing that he was going to join her, Elizabeth anticipated a pleasant walk in his company. The entire household was astonished when Mr. Darcy was shown into the parlour. Even more odd was his attire. He was dressed in traveling clothes not appropriate for a morning call. He also appeared uncharacteristically unkempt and distracted. Mrs. Bennet overlooked all of this as she recalled his attentions to Elizabeth at the ball and wondered what his visit could signify. When he inquired about Miss Elizabeth, after scanning the room and noting her absence, Mrs. Bennet was even more pleased. She regretted that she had to inform him that Elizabeth had gone on a long walk through the countryside. Darcy began twisting the signet ring he wore on his little finger as his uneasiness for Elizabeth grew. He was eager to end the visit. Nevertheless, he did not wish to arouse her family's concern needlessly if Wickham's taunts were nothing more than empty threats. He simply wanted to reassure himself of Elizabeth's safety, and perhaps warn her about Wickham, before leaving the country. Noticing Mr. Collins' absence and recalling his attentions to Elizabeth at the ball, Darcy hoped perhaps he might have accompanied Elizabeth on her walk. He didn't like to think of Mr. Collins alone with his Elizabeth, but at the moment it was preferable to her being unescorted. "Is Mr. Collins with her?" Lydia and Kitty laughed and, before their mother could answer, Lydia said, "Oh no! He has gone to Lucas Lodge. Lizzy has chased him away." "Lydia," Jane admonished. "Oh fie! It does not signify if he knows. The news has been repeated all over the neighborhood, I'll wager." Then looking at Mr. Darcy, she said, "Lizzy has rejected Mr. Collins' marriage proposal. Mama was quite vexed." "Hush girl, what do you know about it?" said Mrs. Bennet. Lydia threw herself back in her chair in a fit of pique. "Now ring the bell for tea," added her mother. Wishing to change the subject, Mrs. Bennet looked to her guest and said, "We are so pleased to see you this morning. We didn't expect you to call with your friend gone to town. Have you any idea when Mr. Bingley plans to return?" "I believe his plans are indefinite at the moment." "I am sure it will be soon, as he promised to take a family dinner with us." They spent the remainder of the half hour required for a civil morning visit in inconsequential conversation. Finally, Darcy was able to take his leave. His horse was brought to him, and he set off in search of Elizabeth. He could not be certain that she was actually in danger, but he was not willing to take any chances. He knew Elizabeth would not be on the main road, so he turned onto the first walking path he encountered. The path was lined on both sides with elm trees, their branches bare, their boughs so low Darcy had to dip his head from time to time. The path opened into a meadow, and in the distance he espied Netherfield Park. He thought to himself, What am I doing? This is ridiculous. I have no cause to believe that Elizabeth is really in danger. Even with all Wickham has done, I've never known him to put anyone in physical danger. He turned his horse toward Netherfield. As he cantered along, however, the thought of her falling prey to Wickham plagued his mind. He was torn between feeling foolish and his apprehension for Elizabeth. His instinct drew him back to the path he had previously followed to continue his search. He wandered through the paths and lanes for some time with his apprehension growing, but to no avail. At length, he noticed fresh hoofprints with the horseshoe's imprint of the _____shire regiment. He proceeded to ride down that path. After a short jaunt, he noticed a mound of white muslin lying on the ground by a tree. It must be she! he thought. He feverishly bounded from his horse, his heart pounding with anxiety, and rushed to her side. Her clothes were in disarray, her hair bedraggled. As he approached, he noticed she was unconscious. He gathered her up in his arms, overcome by feelings of guilt. He knew that Wickham had hurt Elizabeth to hurt him, and began to realize that he should have exposed Wickham's vicious character to the neighborhood. As he cradled her head in his hand, he felt what could only be blood. He looked beneath her to see blood on a gnarled tree root and confirmed his suspicion. He took off his coat, folded it, and placed it against the back of her head. Looking into her ashen face, he said softly but urgently, "Elizabeth, please awaken." Her eyelids fluttered open ever so slowly, but she wore a look of terror and began flailing at him with her fists. Consolingly, Darcy whispered, "Shh! You are safe with me. You are out of danger while I am by your side." "Mr. Darcy?" she muttered weakly. "Are you in pain?" he asked tenderly. She looked away and nodded affirmatively as her face colored with embarrassment. "Who did this to you?" he asked, attempting to rein in his thunderous rage. Her eyes welled up with tears. Gently turning her face back to him, he whispered, "Was it Mr. Wickham?" She nodded. She was overwhelmed with emotion as her tears sprang forth, tumbling down her cheeks. He gently wiped them away with his thumb. "The blackguard!" said Darcy under his breath. "What can you tell me?" She spoke haltingly, her voice breaking as she recounted the incident. "I only. . . thought. . . he wanted to walk with me. But then he. . . he grabbed me, and tried to. . . to. . ." After a long pause, he urged to continue, saying, "To what?" "I never imagined. . . I would be unsafe with him. I thought he was a gentleman." She erupted in tears again. Darcy waited patiently for her to begin again. "I resisted his. . . advances. He pushed me to the ground." She paused. "That is all I remember." More to himself than to her, Darcy noted, "That must have been when you hit your head." Elizabeth tried to get up, realizing that she was still lying in his arms improperly. Darcy would not relinquish his hold on her, and said, "You are not well; allow me to help you." "There's nothing you can do to help me," Elizabeth bewailed. Chapter the Third: A Momentous Decision Posted on Tuesday, 13 July 2004 Darcy pondered the full meaning of Elizabeth's exclamation. He wondered how he could aid her. Certainly he could assist her in returning to Longbourn, but the consequences would be disastrous for her, her reputation, and her family. The servants would observe her condition and Darcy had no doubt that her mother and younger sisters would fail to exercise appropriate discretion. Everyone would learn of the event. Elizabeth would be disgraced and mortified. And it would be entirely his fault. "I can help you. I can take you home to Longbourn and do everything within my power to assist you." Here, he paused briefly and added, "Or, we can be married." She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. He continued, "If you go home, everyone will learn of this. You can have no doubts as to the effect the event will have on your family, on your sisters, and on your own future. I can prevent those ill effects. We can be married by morning. Let me take care of you." Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. "Why would you do this for me?" Darcy sighed as he raked his fingers through his unruly dark curls. He could not confess his feelings. Not yet. "This is my fault. I have long known of Wickham's vicious propensities, yet I said nothing to anyone. If his true character had been known, this could not have happened," he said, with great emotion as waves of guilt overwhelmed him. "Though, I never imagined he would go this far." A look of understanding crossed her features as the tears once again began pouring out of her eyes. "What is it?" he asked. She looked away from him and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to recover her composure before she answered, "I did not understand at the time . . . ." She seemed unwilling to continue so he asked tenderly, "Understand what?" "Before I fell, I asked him why . . . why he would behave in such a way . . . force himself upon me . . . ." She paused again, as if unable to go on, then she looked him in the eyes as if drawing strength from him and continued, "He said it was for you." "Oh dear God," he said, clutching her closer to him. "I am so sorry, Elizabeth." Tears now threatened to spill from his eyes as he repeated, "I am so sorry." "But it is not your fault," she insisted, her tears slowing. "I should have exposed him long ago," he replied, recovering his composure. "And for this reason you would marry someone you dislike?" Now it was Darcy's turn to be surprised. "Dislike? I do not dislike you, Miss Elizabeth. I have never disliked you." Her only reply was to ask quietly, "And what if I am with child?" "That is all the more reason you should accept my offer." She said nothing in response. "Think of Miss Bennet and your other sisters. If word of this becomes known, they will no longer be accepted in good society. Their chances for any kind of future happiness will be ruined." His words rang true. She realized how right he was. Elizabeth could see that his thoughts were on Jane and Mr. Bingley. Even a man so amiable as he would certainly not wish to be connected to a family tainted by her disgrace. Darcy could see that she was still hesitant. "If you consent, we will leave for London immediately and I will procure a special license before the end of the day. We can be married by tomorrow." "And you can assure the secrecy of my . . . situation?" "I give you my word." Only this morning, marriage to Mr. Darcy would have been the last thing Elizabeth would have wished or accepted. Now it was her salvation, a fate for which she could only be grateful. Yet she could not understand his motives. His sense of responsibility for Wickham's actions seemed very strong for him to undertake such measures to remediate them. Surely there was something less he could do for her if he felt so strongly about his own guilt. Nevertheless, there was little choice in the matter for her. She could not think of herself, of what kind of treatment she might suffer at his hands. Nothing could be worse than her present situation. "Then I will agree," she replied, suppressing the sobs that welled up inside her at the prospect. With these words she had sentenced herself to a lifetime with a man she did not love and had never even thought well of -- and for this she must be grateful. There was at least some consolation to be found: she had certainly been wrong about Mr. Darcy. He may be proud, arrogant, and conceited, but she could no longer accuse him of selfishness -- unless choosing a lifetime with a woman he must consider inferior to himself and in whose company he had shown no pleasure simply to assuage his own guilt could be called selfish. No. She realized now that he was a good man. The best of men. As soon as she had spoken, Darcy rose to his feet as he tenderly scooped her up into his arms and placed her atop the horse with great care. Settling in behind her in the saddle, he reached around her gently to hold the reins, insuring that she was cradled comfortably against his chest. Upon arriving at Netherfield, he concealed her behind a yew hedge and proceeded to the house where he ordered his carriage. Elizabeth was left to ponder what had happened to her. As best she could, she examined her injuries. She noticed the condition of her clothing and could not help but recall that once Mr. Bingley's sisters had stared pointedly at her dirty petticoats. What would they think of her now, with not only her petticoats but her dress torn and soiled? They would condemn her, as would all respectable society. She should never have walked alone with Mr. Wickham, she should never have allowed him to lead her off the main road. Her head throbbed, and she could feel her hair, matted and tangled, over the wound she knew she had sustained on her head. She hoped the bump was not affecting her judgement; the elopement seemed spontaneous and sudden, but she knew the situation must be taken care of immediately. And what else could she do? She could see no course of action that would yield a better result. She could not understand why Mr. Darcy would undertake it, but she was not in a situation to question an arrangement so beneficial to herself. She was sure Mr. Darcy had his reasons and they would be revealed in time, but no matter how terrible they might be, nothing could be worse than facing the consequences of such an event. She felt only gratitude towards him. When Mr. Darcy's carriage was ready, he sent the driver back to the stables on an errand to ensure complete secrecy while he assisted Elizabeth into the coach and then joined her. He tenderly wrapped her in the rug and asked if she was comfortable before taking the seat opposite her. "I am fine," she replied. "Thank you." They traveled in silence for some distance, each lost in their own thoughts. At length, Elizabeth spoke, "We will cause a scandal by eloping in this manner." "It is the lesser of two evils," he replied, quietly. She was silent again for a long while, then said, "My parents will worry about me if I do not return home tonight." "You may write to them if you wish. We will stop at an inn when we get closer to London. You may post a letter from there." "Thank you," she replied. After another long silence, she added, "Do you suppose Mr. Wickham would say anything?" Darcy turned towards her and stared at her for several seconds before responding. "No. He will run." Then after an extended silence he added, "But I will find him." Elizabeth looked up at him suddenly and said, "That was not a part of our plan. You need not . . . ." "Would you have him injure another as he has done to you?" Elizabeth was chastened and said quietly, "No, of course not. I just wish it to be over." Darcy leaned forward and took her hand, "For you, it shall be. I will deal with Wickham. You needn't concern yourself with the matter." She made no reply and only withdrew her hand from his grasp. When they arrived at an inn close to the end of their journey, Mr. Darcy procured writing materials and brought them to her in the carriage where she drafted a quick note to her father assuring him that she was well, that she had eloped and would write to explain the whole of it on the morrow. Darcy posted the letter for her and sent it express before they resumed their journey. Once they were traveling again, it began to rain. Elizabeth was in no mood for conversation as the carriage headed toward London, and she was grateful for Mr. Darcy's silence. In the past she had taken it for improper pride on his part, but now she thought it showed good sense not to engage her in meaningless small talk. She sat facing forward, Darcy watching her carefully from the opposite seat. Elizabeth felt fragile, as if she could shatter into a thousand pieces at any minute, and one quick movement would . . . The coach hit a hole in the road, bouncing its occupants into the air. Elizabeth was lighter and she flew more than Darcy, landing on his lap. Her arms wrapped instinctively around his neck, and tightened to keep from becoming airborne again. Darcy's arms folded themselves around her waist. For the briefest moment, she felt safe and whole and would have been happy to remain in his arms forever. Little did she know how much he would have welcomed such an opportunity. But, feeling all the impropriety of the situation, Elizabeth looked at him in horror and bowed her head in embarrassment, willing her shallow pants to slow to deep breaths, even as she felt the carriage being brought to a halt. She dropped her arms and pulled herself back to her own seat. Darcy stared at her for a long moment and then muttered something about checking the carriage. "But it is raining!" she protested. "Then I had better keep some clothing dry for my return." He removed his outerwear, and then his coat and waistcoat. Folding everything neatly, he went out to see why they had stopped. Elizabeth sat huddled in a corner, finding the coach too empty with the sudden loss of Mr. Darcy. Selecting his greatcoat from the pile of clothes, she wrapped it around her and breathed in his comforting scent -- the same smell she had inhaled as he rescued her from her painful encounter. Darcy only took the opportunity to discover nothing had been damaged, but he was out long enough for the rain to plaster his lawn shirt to his chest. He brought a valise with him, and proceeded to pull clean, dry linen from its depths. "Excuse me," he apologized as he stripped off the wet shirt, but Elizabeth barely noticed. She had sunk back into the mood she had been in before they hit that pothole. It was all very depressing to her. He donned his dry clothing as she drifted off to sleep, still under his coat. He was surprised to see her wrapped in it, as there were ample rugs in the carriage, but he was not displeased by it. He was relieved to see her resting, though it was certainly not the most peaceful of slumbers. He stared at her as the carriage rumbled slowly along the muddy road with the rain drumming upon its roof. He studied the curve of her cheek, once bright with color and now dull with pain and sorrow and oppression. It was incomprehensible to him that any man could injure such a woman - willingly, deliberately. He would do everything in his power to return her spirits to the liveliness she once exhibited, but he feared the Elizabeth he had fallen in love with was lost forever. Yet of one thing he was certain: he would avenge her . . . or die trying. When they arrived at his London house, Mr. Darcy had the carriage pulled around to the servants' entrance and rang for the butler and the housekeeper, his most trusted servants. When he was certain no others were within earshot, he gave them the following explanation. "Mr. Dobbs and Mrs. Lacey, I have a delicate matter upon which I depend on you to attend with efficiency and discretion. I trust you both implicitly, and I know I need not ask your secrecy, but this is unusual. While in Hertfordshire, I met the young lady whom I intend to marry. I have brought her with me and we are to be wed tomorrow morning." Darcy ignored the looks of surprise exchanged by his servants. "However, she has been injured and requires the attention of a physician as soon as may be. Mr. Dobbs, see that she is taken up to the gold bedroom without delay, and with as few people seeing you as possible. Mrs. Lacey, have the physician summoned to the lady immediately, then you are to act as her nurse. Do not leave her side. After she has been examined, please ask the physician to await me in the east salon where I may consult with him when I return. I am going to Lambeth Place to procure a special license from the archbishop. I hope to return within a few hours." The head servants nodded their assent. Mr. Dobbs tenderly assisted Elizabeth out of the carriage, while Mrs. Lacey ran to direct a messenger to fetch their local physician. As the rain had subsided to a light drizzle, Mr. Darcy mounted his best town horse and tried to ride as calmly as possible to Lambeth Place so as not to raise alarm in the neighborhood. Upon reaching the gold bedroom, Elizabeth barely took in the surroundings before collapsing on the bed. She embraced the pillow and released all her overwhelming emotions, sobbing openly into the silky fabric. She pulled her knees up into her chest and lay on her side, not noticing anyone moving around her until the physician arrived. Back in Meryton, Mr. Wickham crept quietly into his quarters. The rest of his regiment was out practicing their formations, so he knew he was ensured secrecy for the moment. He sat on his bed, put his elbows on his knees, and ran his hands through his hair. The pints at the Lion and Eagle had done little to erase the enormity of his actions from his conscience. Certainly he had intended to soil the pure maiden, but he had not expected her to fight quite so hard. When he pushed her down, she had hit her head, and the noise had almost frightened him away from his mission. The remembrance of his anger toward Darcy spurred him on, though, and he had completed the vulgar task quickly. He had injured Darcy in the worst possible way, perhaps even more than if he had succeeded in marrying Georgiana. But the sweetness of his revenge was fleeting as he realized his danger. Should he flee? Certainly that would make him appear guilty when Elizabeth was found. But flight would be impossible once she named him as her assailant. Mr. Bennet thought it odd that Lizzy had not returned before the noon meal, but it was not without precedence. She occasionally lost track of time while wandering the countryside, especially at times when her mother was being particularly vocal at home. When she failed to appear for dinner he considered becoming worried about her, but it was not until an express arrived an hour later telling of her elopement that he felt the impact of her absence. Luckily he was in his library at the time, allowing him to hide his alarm from the rest of the family. "Lizzy elope? Kitty or Lydia, yes - if a redcoat were involved. I would even think it more likely of Jane were that Mr. Bingley more persuasive - but my Lizzy? Never! And with whom? Certainly not Collins, not after what she put him through yesterday, and he would never do anything to risk his reputation in the eyes of his beloved Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I recall an officer or two dancing with her at the ball, but she did not seem to show a preference for any . . . perhaps that new man - Mr. Wickham - but he was not even there. She also danced with Mr. Darcy, whom she dislikes so much - now that was a surprise. And Kitty mentioned that he called this morning and made a point of asking after Lizzy. But that is ridiculous - Collins would be more likely to elope than that stodgy fellow! No, if anyone knew who Elizabeth was attached to, it would be Jane." But when Mr. Bennet disclosed the contents of the express to his eldest daughter, she was as shocked and puzzled as he was. He considered going after Elizabeth - the letter had been posted from an inn on the road to and very near London - but how would he discover her in that vast city? It had already grown dark and it had begun to rain. It would be impossible to trace them now. As dear as Lizzy was to him, Mr. Bennet determined he would not be able to take any action until he heard from her on the morrow - if he heard from her on the morrow - and by then she would be lost to another man. Forever. His only consolation was to have faith that she had not chosen foolishly. Chapter the Fourth: Defections and Discoveries Posted on Tuesday, 20 July 2004 Mr. Bennet had not intended to tell his wife about Lizzy's elopement until he received word from his daughter, hopefully revealing the name of her "beloved". If he had only his family to contend with, he might have actually been able to keep the news between himself and Jane until the next day, perhaps by fabricating a "bad headache" confining his absent daughter to her bedchamber. Unfortunately, the servants he kept were entirely too reliable and conscientious. Mrs. Hill sent the maid Sarah up with a tray for Miss Elizabeth, who had not been at dinner. When Sarah found that Miss Elizabeth was not in her bedchamber, she inquired of Miss Mary as to her sister's whereabouts, then informed Mrs. Hill, who went to alert Mr. Bennet. The query intrigued Mary enough to take her attention away from her book. She quickly checked Elizabeth's bedchamber, then went to her eldest sister. "Jane, I've not seen Lizzy since this morning," she said, her voice full of concern, "I've just come from her room and she is not there." "I know," said Jane quietly. "So does Papa. Lizzy let him know she would not be home tonight. You won't say anything to Mama, will you, Mary? I think Papa would prefer she learns of it from him." "Well," Mary replied hesitantly, "very well - but I will not lie." "Of course not - I would never ask you to lie! It is just that . . . You know how angry Mama is with Lizzy about her refusal of Mr. Collins, and if she were to . . ." "I understand completely," Mary interrupted, happy to share in a confidentiality normally reserved for her older sisters. "I will just leave it to Papa." "Thank you, Mary." Jane was relieved that her sister had not questioned her further, but she was still very worried about Lizzy. This whole elopement was so unlike her - so out of character. If it had been planned in advance she knew Lizzy would have confided in her; it had to have been done impulsively. Whoever the gentleman involved was, Jane could only presume that he had pressed her sister into this elopement - but she was at a loss as to what could have induced Lizzy to agree. In the mean time, Mrs. Hill found Mr. Bennet and told him of Elizabeth's absence. For his part, Mr. Bennet still had hope that given Hill's discretion there might be a chance to keep the chaos at bay for another day; but fate apparently was against him. Lydia happened to be passing by the library door, which had been left ajar, and overheard her father say, ". . . Miss Elizabeth is away to Town . . ." This was news to her! She burst into the library, interrupting Mr. Bennet in mid-sentence. "Lizzy is away to Town? Why had not anyone told me? But that is not fair! She and Jane are constantly visiting Aunt Gardiner, it should be my turn! And I do not see why she must get a trip to Town, even if Mama is so displeased with her for refusing Mr. Collins. I want to go to Town, too!" She emphasized her wishes by stamping her foot. Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes and was about to caution his youngest to lower her voice when another daughter entered the room. "Lizzy's gone to Town? Why am I always the last to know?" pouted Kitty, who was drawn to the room by Lydia's tantrum. She was followed closely by Mrs. Bennet. Too late, Lord help me, thought Mr. Bennet. The barrel is rolling down the hill and there is no stopping it now! "Of course Lizzy has not gone to town!" stated Mrs. Bennet emphatically. "I should know if one of my own daughters had gone to Town! Tell them Mr. Bennet - tell them they don't know what they are talking of!" Mrs....
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