Free Consequences by C.P. Odom Page A

remain long in ignorance of our disgrace, Elizabeth thought in dismay. His aunt will be certain to inform him at once, and then his triumph will be complete. He will have been as fortunate as my cousin in avoiding being involved in our humiliation!
    One piece of good news came in the Friday post: Mr. Gardiner informed them he convinced Mr. Bennet to return to his home and leave the continuance of the search in his hands. All were cheered by this information except Mrs. Bennet, who previously expressed the most anxiety for her husband’s life if he should fight a duel with Wickham.
    “What, is he coming home, and without poor Lydia?” she cried. “Surely he will not leave London before he has found them. Who is to fight Wickham and make him marry her if he comes away?”
    To this expression, none could make any comment, and Elizabeth was so disgusted she returned to her room and the doubtful solace of a book.

Chapter 4
“For of all sad words of tongue or pen,
the saddest are these: ‘It might have been!’”
    —John Greenleaf Whittier,
American Quaker poet
and ardent abolitionist
    Saturday, August 15 to
Monday, September 7, 1812
    On Saturday, Mrs. Gardiner left for London with her children, and Mr. Bennet returned to Longbourn by the same coach. Elizabeth and Jane were downstairs to meet their father at the front door, and both of them were quite surprised to see how little affected he seemed by this unhappy state of affairs. Instead of being distressed by the circumstances afflicting his family as well as his own experiences in town, he instead appeared to regard the impending calamities with his usual philosophic composure—he said as little as he ever had been in the habit of saying and made no mention of the business that had taken him away. It was some time before his daughters had courage to speak of it, and even when Elizabeth finally broached the subject that obsessed her every waking moment, she could only bring herself to express her sorrow at what her father must have endured.
    “Say nothing of that,” her father replied dismissively. “Who should suffer but myself? It has been my own doing, and I ought to feel it.”
    Somewhat taken aback by this unexpected response, she took a few moments before she ventured, “You must not be too severe upon yourself.”
    “You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is so prone to fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have been to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression. It will pass away soon enough.”
    “Do you and my uncle suspect they are in London?”
    “Yes—where else can they be so well concealed?’
    “And Lydia used to want to go to London,” added Kitty, a comment that stunned Elizabeth by its sheer inanity.
    Has she no inkling of just how disastrous these circumstances are? she thought in confusion.
    “She is happy, then,” said her father drily, “and her residence there will probably be of some duration.”
    This conversation uneasily reminded Elizabeth of all her previous reservations of her father’s unwillingness to exert himself in curbing the excesses of his family, a subject Mr. Darcy referenced in his letter.
    However, her father did offer at least a halfhearted apology to Elizabeth for ignoring her advice in May, assuring her he bore her no ill will for the correctness of her advice, but for once she could find no response to the dry wit of his comment.
    Though Mr. Bennet returned to his home, the situation was such that normal family life could not be resumed. Mrs. Bennet kept to her room, seeing only the housekeeper, Hill, and her sister Philips. The sisters remained at home rather than walking to Meryton for diversion. And the news from London continued to be bad.
    Mr. Gardiner was not able to send any news of positive progress in locating the missing couple. In fact, after a fruitless week of searching, he wrote he was forced to abandon his personal involvement in