14. Chapter 14
Lydia sat on the bench at Longbourn, watching Kitty walk around the garden with Denny and Chamberlayne. She had not said more than two words together to Denny since the night of the ball. She could hardly stand to be in the same room as him for any length of time. Kitty did not know what to make of the change in her sister’s behaviour, and had endeavoured to awaken some new enthusiasm for visiting the officers in her younger sister, but to no avail. The only time Lydia saw the officers now was when they called to Longbourn.
She did not know if the opinions Denny and Wickham had expressed were shared among all the officers. Surely not all of them were that vulgar? Colonel Forster certainly did not seem to be, and he called regularly with the officers now. Lydia was uncomfortable with his presence, for she was aware that he had been told every detail of what had happened, and it shamed her greatly to think how silly she had been.
Her father knew, also. She had been mortified at first. He had scolded her but once, and then had told her it would do her well to be crossed in love. She had been surprised by this, but he had just smiled sadly.
“Lizzy has informed me you know the error of your ways;” he said, “which is remarkable, considering how little guidance you have received in this area. Practical experience, it seems, is as good a teacher as anything. I am sorry, my child, for failing you.”
Lydia had gaped, sure that she would be shouted at or punished. Indeed, she would have preferred it to this wretched feeling of guilt that seemed to eat her from the inside. Everything was different, and she longed for the days when she could enjoy a morning flirting and playing with the officers as she had before.
She was trying to take Lizzy’s advice, but she did not know where to begin. Lizzy had provided her with a list of books, and even patiently sat with her, attempting to teach her the basics of the pianoforte. But Lydia felt lost. She looked down at the book in her hand - one from Lizzy’s list - and sighed. She could not concentrate out here. She got to her feet, gathering up her things, and started to walk toward the house.
“Lydia!” Kitty called, coming running across the lawn towards her. “Where are you going?”
“Indoors,” she said. “I am quite cold.”
Kitty rolled her eyes. “What is the matter with you? You are becoming as dull as Mary! I know they are not Wickham, but do come speak with Chamberlayne and Denny. They are asking for you.”
Anger flashed over Lydia’s face, and she glanced towards Denny. He met her eyes, a challenging look in them, and all of his words rushed back into her head. She felt ill.
“No, I shall not,” she said. “I am not in the mood for company today, and certainly not that of Lieutenant Denny,” she spat. She turned on her heel and walked back to the house, head in the air. She did not want him to think her shamed, or upset. But once she reached her room, she let the tears come.
It was this way that Kitty found her moments later.
“Well I hope you are satisfied,” Kitty sulked, glaring at Lydia. “Colonel Forster dragged Chamberlayne and Denny away after your little display. What is the matter with you? Are you so lovesick for Wickham that you are determined to ruin everybody else’s fun?”
Lydia gave a growl of impatience. “Oh, stop it! You have no idea-” She broke down again, burying her face in her hands as she sobbed.
“Lydia,” Kitty said, slowly. “What is the matter? This cannot be because Wickham has gone?”
Lydia managed to control her sobs, dabbing at her face with her handkerchief. “It is not. Kitty, I have been so silly. We both have,” she added, for Kitty’s behaviour had exactly mirrored her own. Her sister bristled at this, but Lydia shook her head. “Denny is not a gentleman. I do not know about Chamberlayne, or the other officers, but I do not ever want to speak to Denny again as long as I live.”
“Why on earth would you say something like that?” Kitty demanded.
“I heard him say such horrid things, Kitty,” Lydia said, her eyes filling with tears again. “You would not believe-”
She took a deep breath, and told her everything - from the plan she had hatched with Wickham to meet Georgiana, to how she had fallen so deeply for him, to every word she had overheard Denny and Wickham say. Kitty looked as shocked as she must have when she had finished.
“And that is why he left,” Lydia said. “It has mostly been kept quiet, but there have been rumours about the servants’ and merchants’ daughters. They are all true, if Denny is to believed.”
“How horrid,” Kitty said, her voice hushed and barely above a whisper. “Lydia, you do not think - would they think the same way about me?”
Lydia swallowed. “Perhaps. I do not know. We have been so very silly, Kitty.”
Kitty’s eyes filled with tears. “Truly, do you think no one will wish to marry us?”
Lydia shook her head. “I do not know. Lizzy says it is not too late to change, and I have been trying to read and learn to play.”
“But if we do not marry, we shall starve in the hedgerows,” Kitty said, panicked.
Lydia smiled. “Well, I doubt Mr Darcy would let us.”
“No, I doubt he would,” Kitty agreed. “He does not seem all bad, now that he has fallen in love with Lizzy.”
“He truly is a wonderful man, Kitty,” Lydia said, happily. “He seems so dull and horrid at first, but he is a wonderful brother. And soon he shall be ours!”
Kitty smiled. “And he is so very rich! Lizzy shall have so many gowns and jewels. And a new carriage.”
“And she loves him very much, and he her,” Lydia added. “Better still, they respect each other. For all that gowns and jewels and carriages are wonderful, I believe it is that that will ensure their happiness.”
“You mean you do not wish for such things?” Kitty asked, confused.
“No,” Lydia said carefully. “I do. I want to marry someone who is both rich, and who respects me.”
Kitty nodded, her face serious as she pondered this statement.
*****
Elizabeth was thankful that the weather over the last week Darcy was to spend in Hertfordshire made it possible for them to meet several mornings for a short walk. These walks were truly the highlight of her day, not merely for the time spent with Darcy, but for the hint it gave of what her life was soon to become. Each moment spent with him made her long for their wedding day even more. They were increasingly at ease with each other, and she foresaw many happy days spent in his company.
They talked easily, and on every topic imaginable: Books, music, childhood memories. Sometimes he spoke of Anne Darcy. She listened eagerly, wanting to know about the first Mrs Darcy, and knowing that it was a great honour that he trusted her enough to share such memories. He told her more stories of the larks they had enjoyed as children, and eventually brought the subject of their marriage.
“We left for the sea soon after the ceremony,” he said. “Dr Elmes, Mrs Darcy’s physician, had recommended sea air. It was one of the subjects on which Lady Catherine disagreed with him. But we took a house near the sea, away from any towns, so she could have rest. We spent the first months of our marriage there. I purchased the house, thinking it would be useful to be able to visit whenever Mrs Darcy’s health required.”
Elizabeth’s hand stroked his arm gently. “It sounds wonderful. Have you been back since?”
He nodded. “We spend a number of weeks every summer there, and Lady Catherine often joins us. Julia loves the sea, as does Georgiana.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Did it have any effect on Mrs Darcy’s health?”
Darcy glanced straight ahead as he replied. “Indeed, it did. Dr Elmes was very pleased with the improvements she made. It was these improvements that led to - that led us to believe she was well enough to bear a child.”
His voice sounded pained, and Elizabeth squeezed his arm.
He shook his head, glancing down. Elizabeth knew this was a painful subject for him, but she did wish to know more about his first wife. “Were Mrs Darcy and Miss Darcy close?” she wondered, in an attempt to change the focus of the conversation somewhat.
He paused. “Not as close as I had hoped. I thought my marriage would give Georgiana some companionship, and that with Mrs Darcy being her cousin, she would be comfortable with her. But Mrs Darcy was not - she did not have a personality that allowed one to get close easily. She was quite like her mother in that way. And Georgiana being as timid as she is, she never got as close to Mrs Darcy as I had hoped.”
Elizabeth nodded. She could see how easily a younger Georgiana would be frightened by her brother’s wife.
“I am glad you two are close,” he said, looking over at Elizabeth with a smile. “You shall do Georgiana almost as much good as you shall do me.”
Elizabeth smiled at him. “Is that so?”
“Almost,” he repeated, his smile softening. “You have already made my life immeasurably brighter.”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks flush under his gaze. Her heart swelled as she reflected once again on how lucky she was.
He looked away, clearing his throat. “We returned to Pemberley after a number of months. Julia was born there. Mrs Darcy had little chance to make her mark, but you must feel free to change whatever suits you. I have written to Mrs Reynolds, the housekeeper, and informed her.”
Elizabeth nodded, feeling slight panic a the prospect of bearing full responsibility for the running of a house - and one that was by all accounts several times larger than Longbourn. At least she would not be expected to manage Rosings, also - Lady Catherine still lived there, and Darcy allowed her control of her own household. There was the London house to think of, but surely that could not be too large.
“Elizabeth?” Darcy prompted.
She realised she had been somewhat lost in thought, and turned her attention back to him. “Forgive me. I was just realising what my position will entail. I confess, I had not given it much thought before.”
He nodded. “You need not worry, you will be a fine Mistress of Pemberley. I have full confidence in you.”
She smiled. “Well, so long as one of us does.”
He returned her smile, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. “Dearest Elizabeth - I long for the day when you step into that role.”
“As do I,” she replied, leaning forward to brush her lips against his knuckle. She heard his sharp intake of breath, and raised her eyes to his. What she saw made her own breath catch in her throat - the heat in his eyes was unmistakeable. It gave her a thrill, and she pressed another kiss to the back of his hand.
“Elizabeth,” he murmured. She lifted her head and he brought her hand to his lips, covering it in kisses. They were soft and lingering, and coated each of her fingers and the back of her hand. She could feel the heat of his lips through her glove. His fingers brushed accidentally against the bare skin of her wrist, and they both shivered.
He pulled away, and she noticed colour rise in his cheeks. She took a deep, steadying breath. “Perhaps we should return,” she said, reluctantly.
“Indeed,” he said. “I apologise-“
“No,” she interrupted, reaching out to touch his arm. “Please do not apologise. I - I confess I quite enjoyed it.”
He glanced at her, his eyes wide. “As did I. Perhaps too much.”
She smiled slightly. “I would not say so. I am to be your wife, after all. I should like you to enjoy kissing me.”
He swallowed. “Do not tempt me, Elizabeth,” he said, a rawness to his voice that caused another shiver to run down her spine.
She looked down, a flush spreading in her cheeks. They walked for some time in silence, a good distance between them. She wished to take his arm again, but did not trust herself to be able to do so without getting carried away again. The wedding day could not come soon enough.