Those familiar with my  work know that I have spent the last seven or eight months writing the Elizabeth Said, Darcy Said series. I have finally come to book six, which is the dramatic finish to this saga. As a reward to those who have read these stories, I offer an excerpt, where Darcy and his companions have arrived at Longbourn to find the manor in turmoil because Lydia has run off with Wickham in the middle of the night. Mr. Bennet has sent Elizabeth out to send them away, but she is too late, as Bingley and Georgiana are already in the sitting room offering comfort to Jane. As we join the story, Darcy is watching Elizabeth’s approach with some concern..

Chapter 8

 

Miss Elizabeth’s approach was torture, her anger a barrier standing between them. This woman had no time for soft-spoken and insincere expressions of grief or support for the calamity rising from her sister’s actions.

From the look of her as she neared, Darcy could almost believe that she wanted to do him bodily harm for Mr. Bennet’s failure to contain his daughter’s rebellious nature. His guilt lay in failing to press the issue and possibly forestall this tragedy.

If not for his reluctance to discuss Wickham’s near success at carrying out this identical deception with Georgiana, he might have prevented it from happening to Miss Lydia. Should Miss Elizabeth’s purpose in talking with him be to exact vengeance of some sort, he would accept whatever punishment she saw fit to impose. He prayed she did not turn her back on him and inform him of her hatred for him.

“Hello, Mr. Darcy,” she said, stopping in front of him. “Thank you for calling, but something has come up and I cannot spare the time to visit with you. Tomorrow, or maybe the next day, would be more convenient.”

He stared at her lips as she spoke, wondering how close she was to breaking into tears like her sister had a few minutes previous. They quivered, either in anger or sorrow and her voice, though firm, was barely controlled.

This woman fought to hold her feelings in check, but Darcy saw that the task was almost too much for her to bear. Should he offer his earnest apology for causing the situation, or would any mention of this matter have her weeping uncontrollably?

This is my fault. If I had gotten Wickham to leave Meryton, Miss Lydia would be safe at home. It would have cost me a pretty penny to talk him into finding another regiment to join, but I might have spared Mr. Bennet the shame he faces now. With his greed, the promise of money would have persuaded him to desert in a heartbeat and the colonel in charge here would likely not have bothered to pursue him.

It is not much, but I can apologize to him and the entire family for my negligence and hope that is enough to keep Miss Elizabeth’s affection.

“Please forgive me,” he said, drawing himself up in preparation to honor her wishes. “I knew Wickham was capable of this and I failed to convince you of the danger he presented.”

The confession drew a sharp look from the woman, but it was brief, as her head dropped in sorrow. “How did you find out?” she asked, the quiver in her statement increasing with each word she uttered. “If you already heard, the rumors must be all over Meryton by now. Papa will not be pleased.”

“Miss Bennet started to tell us,” he said, laying his hand on her arm in compassion. “She did not get far before breaking down, so Bingley and Georgiana took her elsewhere to give her what comfort they could.”

Miss Elizabeth raised her gaze to meet his, the movement revealing damp eyes and tears held in check by rapid blinks.

“He is a wonderful man,” she said, a sickly smile all she seemed capable of offering, “and your sister is a beautiful, caring young woman. Those qualities seem hard to find of late. Please forgive Jane; this is a private matter, or it would be if she learned to control her emotions.”

Darcy searched for words to express his sorrow and compassion, but nothing came to mind, so he contented himself with a smile to show his sympathy for the them, except for Miss Lydia.

The girl knew better or should have. Although she gave the impression of someone uncivilized and poorly raised, he was aware of the problems Mr. Bennet encountered with trying to make a respectable young woman of her.

“Don’t be too hard on your sister,” he said, moving closer and lowering his voice to keep the conversation from being overheard. “She is understandably shocked and hurt by what has happened. Bingley and I are not here to judge you, nor are we going to spread gossip about the issue in Meryton. Unless you mention it on your next visit to town, nobody has to know anything is amiss.”

Miss Elizabeth’s response was a harsh laugh. If not for the fact she was a woman, Darcy would have expected to see her turn her head and spit in disgust. The thought was amusing, but not enough to tease a smile from him.

“You have my gratitude,” she said with a nod, a single tear escaping to slide down her cheek. He watched it stop at her chin and hang there, as if gathering the courage to drop to the floor. Miss Elizabeth, though, seemed to take exception to its presence, as she raised her hand to swipe it violently away.

Was she angry at herself for showing that Miss Lydia’s disappearance bothered her? Or did her annoyance come from the dismal future she expected to endure because of her sister’s selfishness? Darcy had no answer to either question, but to relieve her troubled spirit. Would she accept his support, or should he just proceed without offering?

“Why don’t we join Miss Bennet and the others?” he suggested. “Your sister will appreciate your company, and Bingley might need some assistance in calming her.”

“An excellent idea,” she said, her lips turning up in a grateful smile that did not quite reach her eyes. Although reasonably dry now, he saw the anguish in them, a sentiment he thought would not soon depart.

“I assume they are in the sitting room?” she asked to his affirming nod, upon which she strode to that chamber and Darcy hurried after her. Indistinct voices, unintelligible in entering the corridor, became clearer as they neared the entrance.

“You have nothing to fear,” Bingley was saying as they stepped through the portal. “I intend to remain with you today and call again tomorrow if you allow me. Expect me to ask every day for permission to return.”

“Thank you,” she said, tears gathering in her eyes. Miss Elizabeth rushed at once to her side and gathered her in a loving embrace, leaving Darcy to sidle over to his sister.

Georgiana raised her chin at his approach, surprising him with the traces of water he saw upon her cheeks as well. It should not have come as a shock, for the girl had a penchant for sharing the heartaches of others.

The quality was a blessing most of the time, but a curse Wickham took advantage of to convince her of his undying love after Darcy threw him off Pemberley. If not for their close relationship as brother and sister, he might very well have convinced her to take the same steps Miss Lydia chose last night.

Once Miss Bennet’s tears subsided, Miss Elizabeth turned her over to Bingley’s care and sat with Georgiana. Their conversation dwelt on unimportant matters, as she did not appear inclined to discuss the events of the previous evening or her father’s plans to deal with the issue, if he had any. Darcy supposed they had discussed the matter, but he did not fault her for keeping the matter private; in her place, he would have done the same.

And what could Mr. Bennet do, anyway? His knowledge of the scoundrel was likely nothing other than the few inadequate warnings Darcy offered. He did not think they were acquainted, unless the man had called at Longbourn, which was unlikely.

So what were his options? He probably did not know where Wickham planned on taking his daughter and, even if he did, Mr. Bennet was, in Darcy’s opinion, much too accustomed to his sedentary way of life to go chasing after them.

Thief-takers were available if he had the money, although he would need to bring them from London. By the time he found any willing to pursue the couple, Wickham might have already tired of his conquest and abandoned the girl, leaving her father with nothing more than the satisfaction of making sure he was well beaten for what he had done.

 

Thief-takers were Regency England’s version of today’s private investigators. You hired them to capture criminals who had stolen from you. Because professional police forces did not exist in England until later in the 19th century, private citizens called on men like these to render justice, however primitive.

Below is the cover. I hope to publish before the end of February, but I am still writing the manuscript, so my plans could come to naught.