Page 130 of Near Pemberley

Elizabeth looked at him in surprise.

“It would spare Mrs. Bennet unnecessary anxiety,” Darcy continued. “She would see with her own eyes that Miss Lydia is safe and well. Miss Lydia, meanwhile, need not yet resume life in Hertfordshire.”

A thoughtful silence followed.

Mr. Bennet rubbed his chin.

“There is sense in that.” He glanced towards Lydia. “Your mother would certainly insist upon seeing you.”

Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “I think she would sleep much easier afterwards.”

“Oh, yes!” Lydia exclaimed. “I should like that very much.”

Elizabeth nodded. “So should I.”

Then Mr. Bennet’s practical nature reasserted itself. “There is only one difficulty.”

Darcy looked at him.

“If I take my daughters all the way to Longbourn and let them off again before evening, my wife will never forgive me.”

A ripple of amusement passed through the room.

“I shall hear of it for the remainder of my natural life.”

Even Darcy smiled.

“No,” Mr. Bennet continued, shaking his head. “You would have to remain the night. Mrs. Bennet would consider anything less an act of barbarity.”

Mr. Gardiner laughed. “I believe my sister very well might.”

Mr. Bennet looked towards Lydia.

“You may see your mother and your sisters properly. Take whatever you wish from the house. If there are books, dresses, keepsakes, or anything else you desire, bring them.”

“And then,” he added, looking from Lydia to Elizabeth, “the two of you may return to London the following day. We must keep thinking about the future.”

Darcy felt an absurd degree of relief. Elizabeth would remain in London. Lydia could see her mother and sisters without being forced to resume a life for which she was plainly unprepared.

And he would have another day. Another day to speak with Mr. Bennet. If necessary, with Mrs. Bennet as well, though he could not imagine a more exhausting interview.

His thoughts moved almost immediately beyond that. Miss Elizabeth’s comments returned to him. The disappointed tradesmen in Meryton. The unpaid accounts. The merchants who had trusted George Wickham and been rewarded with empty promises.

Wickham had always lived by leaving others to bear the cost of his conduct. Perhaps that need not continue. If those debts were purchased, every obligation would pass into different hands.

Into his.

For the first time since Wickham had abandoned Lydia, Darcy saw not merely the possibility of protecting the Bennets, but of ensuring that Wickham himself would one day discover that every avenue of escape had quietly disappeared behind him.

A faint smile touched his lips. George Wickham had always relied upon other men’s patience. He had never yet been pursued by Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Chapter XXVII

The afternoon proved far pleasanter than any of them had anticipated.

Kew was alive with visitors enjoying the fine weather. Gentlemen strolled leisurely beneath avenues of chestnut and lime, ladies paused beside the still flowering borders, and children chased one another across the broad lawns until governesses called them back with varying degrees of success.

They lingered beside the ornamental lake, admired several curious specimens from the botanical collections, and paused beneath the shade of ancient cedars whose great branches seemed almost to touch the ground.