After the visit to Mrs. Younge’s, Darcy had decided against sending for Georgiana. He could not trust the woman to refrain from showing up on his doorstep, and though Mrs. Gardiner visited Darcy House as often as her time would allow, she still had a household to run and several young children to care for, which left little time to devote to her niece. Elizabeth tried to hide her disappointment as best she could, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to do when, on most days, she found very little reprieve from the inner turmoil of her active mind.

In an effort to divert her focus from dark thoughts, Elizabeth immersed herself in learning the management of her new household. Though she had some limited experience assisting her mother in the task, she was not prepared for the large amounts of money and the wide disbursement of funds she suddenly found at her disposal. She devoted many tedious hours to poring over the books with Mrs. Hildebrandt, struggling to perfect her understanding of the operation of her husband’s London household. Under the housekeeper’s instruction, Elizabeth persevered in her endeavor until satisfied she had finally acquired enough knowledge of the management of Darcy House to do an effective job without supervision.

In the moments when she was not working closely with Mrs. Hildebrandt or attempting to conceal her anxiety behind a book while awaiting some word or scrap of news, however small and insignificant, regarding her sister’s whereabouts, Elizabeth took to wandering the cold, empty courtyard of Darcy House. It was the only form of exercise out-of-doors Darcy would permit her, even accompanied by him. She had been walking for some time amongst the barren beds, dry fountains, and statues; her thoughts turned toward the disreputable situation her youngest sister had brought upon herself—and all her family—with Wickham.

During their last days at Longbourn, there had been several painful instances where Lydia had accused Elizabeth of behaving in very much the same disgraceful manner, regarding her own conduct with Darcy. It disturbed her, so much so, that she could not stop herself from thinking back, time and again, to her relationship with the man who was now her beloved husband.

She recalled the past events since she and Darcy had met and, with a sudden epiphany, realized that, though she could not, in all honesty, discount Lydia’s accusations, there still remained one very significant difference in their circumstances: Darcy had been in love with her—ardently, passionately, unfailingly in love with her—and that, Elizabeth was finally forced to concede, made all the difference in their situations, at least where it mattered most—to her.

She was lost in her own thoughts, so much so, that she failed to hear the soft click of the French doors to the courtyard, nor the sound of purposeful footfalls.

Not wishing to startle her, Darcy stopped several feet away before calling her name. Elizabeth turned to face him, and he noticed the troubled look in her eyes. He was about to speak, to ask her why she appeared to be in such a state of wretchedness, but then thought better of it. Instead, he closed the distance between them and embraced her. Finally, without removing from his arms, Elizabeth said, “Thank you for loving me so, Fitzwilliam, despite every obstacle we have been forced to overcome.”

Darcy knew the last few weeks had been difficult for her, and for this reason in particular, it pained him that they had yet to find Lydia. They had been in London for nearly a week, and still, there was no sign of her, no word, nor any leads to follow. He was fast losing hope for her recovery, as were Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner. He answered her not with words but by holding her more tightly. Elizabeth sighed and, after a time, pulled away and busied herself with adjusting her pelisse.

Darcy cleared his throat and said, “My aunt and uncle have extended an invitation to dine in Berkeley Square tomorrow evening. It seems they are no longer ignorant of our presence in Town. I took the liberty of accepting the invitation, but I have not shared with them any information regarding your sister’s alleged elopement. I believe we could both use an evening in the company of family. My sister, I hear, is desirous to see you.” He dropped his voice. “You should never have been made to suffer this alone, Elizabeth. I fear I have not done my duty by you these last few days. Can you ever forgive me for neglecting you so?”

Elizabeth stared at him before lowering her gaze. “There is nothing for me to forgive. I did not expect you to be constantly by my side, Fitzwilliam. You are here to search for my sister. Of course her untenable situation must have first claim on you. I would not have it any other way.”

“But I would,” he said. “It should not be so. You should not have been left to your own devices at such a time as this. You have endured more in the last few weeks than should be expected of a gently bred woman, and I feel as though I have abandoned you in favor of one whom I can hardly esteem. I am sorry, Elizabeth. I do not mean to pain you further, but neither can I lie to you.”

Elizabeth shook her head and took several steps from him, pressing her fingers to her eyes. “No. If only Lydia had not run away from home. If only my mother had not been so indulgent. If only my father would have taken the trouble to check her wild behavior, rather than contenting himself to simply laugh at it, then, perhaps we would have been spared such worry and humiliation, but it was not to be.”

Darcy extended his hand to her and pulled her close. “If you wish, I will send word to my aunt that we are unable to attend her dinner. I understand that her dear friends, Lady Malcolm and Lady Sowersby, are to be present, as well. They are both very kind, but I can understand if you do not wish to go through such an ordeal at present.”

“No, Fitzwilliam. You are correct in thinking some familial society will do us both good. Are my father and the Gardiners invited, as well?”

“Yes, though your father has declined. I believe he will remove to Gracechurch Street for the evening. I am not yet certain whether the Gardiners will attend, but I can only assume that, under the circumstances, they may decline, as well. Richard and my other cousins will, of course, be in attendance, as will Georgiana. My uncle has informed me that Lady Catherine and my cousin Anne have since returned to Rosings and do not plan to return to Town for some time.”

She nodded. At least I will not have to bear that woman’s scorn and disapprobation, she thought with some relief.

Darcy guided her to the house, and they retired to the privacy of their apartment. He rested with his wife, stroking her back until he was certain she had finally fallen asleep; then he rose and returned to his study, where he found Colonel Fitzwilliam frowning over a note that had only recently arrived from one of his men. Darcy looked at him with anticipation, but Richard only shook his head. “There is no news. I have only been informed that Mrs. Younge has been out now for several hours. Three of my men are following her at a discreet distance. She appears to be making calls. They will send word if they discover anything.”

Darcy cursed under his breath. “We must find them. I can no longer countenance seeing Elizabeth in such low spirits. This is supposed to be a happy time for her; she should be enjoying her new position as my wife and the prospect of motherhood, yet she is close to tears each hour of the day and separated from me because of this business with her sister. I will not have it. Discover them. Do whatever you must, promise whatever you must; I will pay for it, but Lydia must be found. Elizabeth and I cannot live as we wish until she is recovered. After that, I shall remove both Elizabeth and Georgiana to Pemberley, the Season be hanged. I can no longer abide this insufferable situation.”

*   *   *

The Darcys dined at Berkeley Square the following evening. Elizabeth had somehow managed to rally her spirits, if for no reason other than to conceal her family’s unhappy situation. Though Lady Matlock may have discerned something in her manner that gave her a cause for concern, both Lady Malcolm and Lady Sowersby were unaware of it. They found themselves immediately taken with the new Mrs. Darcy. Elizabeth was, to them, all that was charming and lovely. Darcy was as enchanted and attentive as ever, if somewhat concerned for her state of mind, and while Lady Malcolm and his nearest relations could easily tease him for it, Lady Sowersby, who had never married and who was ever the romantic, could find nothing but pleasure in his solicitous and tender attentions to his beautiful new bride.

Halfway through the meal, a message arrived for Colonel Fitzwilliam, who quickly excused himself from the table. Many minutes passed, and he failed to return, leaving at least two persons in the party anxious over his lengthy absence. After receiving numerous glances from Elizabeth, Darcy also excused himself. He eventually located his cousin in his uncle’s study. “What news, Fitzwilliam?” he asked without ceremony, shutting the door behind him.

The colonel’s countenance was grave. “My men have located a young woman whom they believe may be Miss Lydia. It is not promising. She is currently residing in Madame Tremont’s house. Do you know of it?”

Darcy’s eyes grew wide. “In a brothel? I cannot believe this,” he gasped, shaking his head. “Is it known whether or not she came to be there willingly?”

Fitzwilliam exhaled loudly. “I believe it unlikely Miss Lydia would have agreed to enter such an establishment of her own volition. It is my guess that Wickham probably sold her into servitude. He is no doubt low on funds and most likely growing desperate.”

Darcy ran his hands over his eyes. “Good God. This will kill Elizabeth. I cannot have her learn of this. We must leave at once and recover Lydia. God only knows what may befall her in such an establishment. We have not a moment to lose.”

“I agree, Darcy. I have dispatched my orders to my men. We will be moving within the hour, but you must know you cannot possibly accompany us.”

“Why ever not? She is my sister-in-law. She is my responsibility. Wickham is my responsibility. Surely, I must be the one to go.”

Fitzwilliam gaped at him. “You cannot be serious! Do you have any idea what it will look like if you were to go? To a brothel? You, who have only just exchanged your sacred vows before God—and with a woman whom Lady Catherine would happily tout in public as your mistress if given leave to do so? Can you not imagine the talk such an action will inspire amongst the ton? The repercussions to Elizabeth’s reception in society alone would be devastating, to say nothing of your gaining a reputation as a philanderer.”

Darcy, who had been pacing, threw himself into the nearest chair and growled in frustration. “What the bloody hell am I supposed to do, then? Elizabeth will want me to retrieve her sister, as well I should!”

“But not at this cost, Darcy! There will be enough talk already. You will do well to leave this to me. Miss Lydia knows me—well enough to understand I would not harm her in any way. I am confident she will feel safe enough to leave with me. In fact”—he smiled grimly—“I would wager a great deal that she will jump at the chance—especially if I am wearing my red coat.”

Darcy looked at him sharply, and Colonel Fitzwilliam moved to lay a hand upon his cousin’s tense shoulder. “Forgive me. That was poorly done. If it is, indeed, Miss Lydia, Darcy, I shall return her to her family tonight. Shall I bring her to Darcy House, or would you rather I deliver her to the Gardiners?”

Darcy ran the back of his hand over his lips. “No, bring her to Grosvenor Square. The Gardiners have young children. They should not be subjected to such scandal.”

“Very well. What will you tell Elizabeth?”

Darcy sighed. “I hardly know. I do not want to raise her hopes if it is not Lydia. In any case, the news will be distressing, to say the least. I will make our excuses to your parents in a short while. They shall not suspect anything untoward. Elizabeth is not quite herself, in any case, and I daresay my aunt has discerned as much. Then I suppose I shall wait at Darcy House for word from you. What of Wickham?”

Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head. “I have received no word of Wickham, but when I do, you shall be the first to know.”

*   *   *

It was nearly eleven o’clock that night when Colonel Fitzwilliam was ushered into the dimly lit back foyer of Darcy House, bearing Lydia Bennet in his arms. Elizabeth had been on edge ever since her husband had reluctantly told her Richard’s men had discovered the location of a young woman who may or may not be Lydia. Elizabeth raced down the stairs when she heard Darcy’s voice mingled with that of his cousin, barely managing to fasten her dressing gown about her waist as she went. She gasped when she beheld Lydia, who appeared listless, battered, and bruised. Holding back tears, Elizabeth instructed the colonel to carry her sister to one of the family apartments abovestairs. One of his men went off to summon the doctor; another, Mr. Bennet, who had not yet returned from Gracechurch Street.