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"I will go," Darcy said, and Elizabeth looked up at him from her position on the floor and blinked away tears.

"Where?"

"To London first. If he has not gone to Gretna Green, then London is the best place to disappear, is it not? I will find him, Elizabeth. I will make this right. I will not allow your sister or your family to suffer at the hands of that man. I was nearly too late to stop my own sister's suffering. I should have told you all what kind of man he was. Stupid societal expectations made me keep quiet. But once we have him to rights, he will not ruin another girl. I promise you that."

He picked up his own unread letter and shoved it in his pocket.

"I must leave at once, Elizabeth. Time is of the essence. We do not know how long they have been gone. I entrust my sister's care to you," he said, looking at Georgiana with a nod. She nodded back. He knew this was what she would want, even though he did not like to leave her when she was only just recovering.

"I will send word as soon as I have it," he said, and he approached Elizabeth and offered his hand and pulled her up from the floor.

"Look after yourself," he said. "And Georgiana."

And then he pressed one quick kiss to her lips, for any more and he wasn't sure he could leave, and then tore from the room.

"Be careful!" Elizabeth called after him, almost too late, for the door slammed behind him, leaving the two women in the parlour, the news heavy on their hearts.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Elizabeth wished she were a man, wished she could do something, but all she could do was sit and wait for news and hope that all was not lost.

"I'm so sorry, Elizabeth," Georgiana said with a sob.

"What do you have to be sorry about?" Elizabeth said, taking Georgiana's hand.

"Darcy was silent about Wickham's attempt to marry me because I asked him to be, because I did not want the world to know how easily I was led, how quickly I might have been ruined, how foolish I was. But if I had not been so prideful, if he had told you and your sisters what kind of man Wickham was, well, you might have been able to..."

Elizabeth shook her head.

"You are not to blame, Georgiana, dearest. My sister makes her own decisions, and Wickham has flirted with and enchanted every woman in his presence, I'm sure. Why, they may not have believed a word your brother said, even if he had spoken earlier. I am only glad that your brother realised what was afoot before you were ensnared," she said. "And I can only hope that he can make things good for my sister – one way or another."

◆◆◆

Darcy rode like the wind in the direction of London with only a small bag of clothes in his saddlebag.

He needed to find them as quickly as possible. He wasn't sure he could save her like he had saved Georgiana. She had not had to marry Wickham because they had never been left alone, thanks to the nefarious Mrs Younge, and therefore her reputation had not been ruined.

But Lydia... Lydia had been with him for days, he presumed, with no chaperone, and so, unfortunately, the very best Darcy thought he could hope for was to make Wickham marry her. At least then she should be respectable.

The weather was damp and a sensible man might have taken a carriage, but the carriage was too slow. At least on horseback, he had speed on his side. Lydia and Wickham had surely taken a carriage, and that would have slowed them down a bit.

He hoped he was right in thinking they were in London.

If they had gone to Gretna Green, he would not catch them. But then, if they had gone to Gretna Green to be married, it was not so much of a problem. He did not envy her being married to such a man, but at least she would not be ruined, forced to live with her mother forever, shunned by society. It was the better option, really.

But if, as Darcy suspected, they had not gone to Gretna Green and had instead gone to London, well, then it would be the challenge of finding him.

Luckily, Darcy had a decent guess as to who might know his whereabouts.

Mrs Younge still resided in London. He'd kept tabs on her ever since she had left his employ, just in case. She wasn't a companion any longer. Without a reference from Darcy, she would have struggled to find a suitable position.

From what he knew, she took in sewing and washing at her London home, and Darcy wondered if that was where Wickham had gone.

It took two days to reach London, and that was with barely stopping to sleep or eat, only changing horses whenever necessary. He rode in the dark, he rode in the rain, and when he arrived, he made straight for Mrs Younge's residence, even though his horse was tired and he was damp from the rain.

He hammered on her door. At first he thought she wasn't going to answer, but then the door opened just a crack – and when she saw who it was, she slammed it up in his face.

"I know you're in there, Mrs Younge," he roared. "I need to speak with you. Come out now, or else the whole neighbourhood will know your business."