11. Chapter 11

“Is it time?” Lydia asked.

Georgiana checked the watch her brother had given her. “Very nearly,” she said. “Oh, I hope this works.”

“It will,” Lydia promised. “Your brother can be quite terrifying, you know. When he thought he may miss his dance with my sister, I was sure he would not agree to the plan.”

Georgiana laughed slightly. “Indeed. Oh, do you think-”

“I am sure of it,” Lydia said. “She is madly in love with him.”

“I should like it very much if she married Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana said. “And I could not wish for a better sister than Miss Elizabeth.”

Lydia smiled. “If they do marry, you shall have five sisters,” she said.

“Oh! I had not thought of that,” Georgiana said, smiling widely. “How wonderful.”

A noise from down the hall alerted them, and they peered through the small opening of the door, watching as the scullery maid, Martha, led George out of the servants staircase and into the empty room they had appointed.

As soon as Martha had retreated to the staircase, Georgiana and Lydia glanced at each other. Georgiana took a deep breath. “Shall we?”

Lydia nodded and, linking her arm with the other girl, they walked into the hallway and down to the room. Georgiana carried the candle in her other hand. She opened the door, and they both stepped in.

“Georgie-” Wickham started, but paused when he saw Lydia. “And - Miss Bennet! I heard you were feeling unwell, I was sorry to miss our dance.”

“Oh, were you?” Lydia asked. “I should have thought Martha would have kept you entertained without me.”

Wickham swallowed. “Yes, she is a dear girl, and I am thankful for her assistance in allowing me to meet Georgiana - you see, Miss Bennet, we cannot rely on your assistance forever-”

“I heard you,” Lydia announced. “I heard every word you said to Denny. You are a rake and a fortune hunter, and I told Georgiana every word of it. So you shan’t get to carry out your plans.”

Wickham’s lip twisted, and his handsome face became quite ugly as he snarled at her. “How dare you tell such lies? Georgiana-”

“I believe her,” Georgiana said. “Every word.”

Wickham laughed shortly. “And what do you plan on doing about it, may I ask? You both come in here to confront me, but you have spelled your own downfall. One word about the amount of times you met with me without a chaperone, Miss Darcy, and you will be forever ruined. No one will want to marry you, fortune or no.”

“They are not without chaperone,” a voice came from a darkened corner, and even in the faint light of the candle, Lydia could see Wickham pale.

“What, no greeting for an old friend?” Darcy asked, making his way over to the group. Lydia grinned smugly at the look of fear in Wickham’s eyes. Ha!

“Darcy,” Wickham said, but the bluster was gone from his voice.

“Wickham,” Darcy replied, tersely. “I have no desire to prolong this, so let me cut to the point. You will leave Meryton tomorrow. You will not mention a word of anything that happened here to a soul. If I hear so much as a whisper about the reputation of either of these girls, I will make sure you pay.”

“And how will you do that?” Wickham challenged, though he did not seem too confident.

“I have sent an express to Derbyshire, asking for the delivery of proof of the debts I settled for you in Lambton and Cambridge,” Darcy said. “Tomorrow, I shall buy all the debts I can find in Meryton. If you are still in the area when the papers arrive from Pemberley, or if I hear the merest hint of a rumour about my sister or Miss Bennet, I can and will bring the debts before the law.”

“You would not. If you did, I would tell everyone-”

“Perhaps, but if you did that, I would have no reason to keep you out of prison, would I?” Darcy replied, lightly.

Wickham scowled. “I am only demanding what I am due! Your father-”

“Was as taken in by you as his daughter was. I have done everything I ought to respect his wishes. You will not guilt me on that score. He treated you like a son, and this is how you repay him?” Darcy paused here, his jaw tight. “I have nothing further to say to you. Girls, return to your room. I will see that Mr Wickham leaves the premises.”

Lydia nodded, though now it was all over, she was suddenly feeling upset. Her reputation was already sullied, judging by the way Wickham and Denny talked of her. She had thought such concerns were silly, but what if she had been wrong? How would she begin to salvage any sort of respectability?

“Miss Bennet,” Mr Darcy’s voice cut in, “all will be well.”

He spoke so gently that Lydia could not help but smile. Miss Darcy took Lydia’s arm and led her back to her own room, where they both climbed onto Georgiana’s bed and gave into their tears.

*****

Elizabeth scanned the room for Mr Darcy, but she could not see him anywhere. She had not seen him for some time, but they were due to dance the next.

The music started, and just as she was beginning to think he was not going to claim it, she felt a light touch at her elbow, and turned to see him standing behind her.

“My apologies, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, leading her to the dance floor. “I was needed to attend to Julia.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Not to worry, you are here now,” she said, as they took their places.

“Miss Lydia is also upstairs, she has taken ill with a headache and is resting in Georgiana’s room,” he said. His tone was casual, but she sensed something in his air that made her curious.

“She is?” she asked. “I had wondered where she was.”

“It is nothing to be concerned about, I am sure, but I would wager she would appreciate her sister’s company when this dance is over,” he said.

Elizabeth nodded. “Of course.”

He smiled, and she thought again that he looked distracted. Something very strange was happening, but she knew she would not know exactly what it was until after the dance.

So she put it out of her mind, and endeavoured to assist him to do the same in the way she knew best - by teasing him, of course.

“It is a remarkable room, the perfect size for gatherings such as this,” she said, echoing their conversation during their first dance.

She was rewarded by a slight smile. “Yes, I believe there must be thirty couples dancing at least.”

“Thirty!” she exclaimed, with an air of false disbelief. “Surely there are at least forty!”

“Forty you say?” he asked her, smile playing at the edge of his lips. “I believe, Miss Elizabeth, you are once again professing an opinion that is not your own.”

“Why would I do such a thing?” she asked him, smiling brightly.

“Because you greatly enjoy vexing me,” he replied.

She laughed. “Yes, Mr Darcy. I have no compassion for your nerves. I must apologise.”

He smiled, a bright, full smile, and she congratulated herself on a job well done.

The dance ended all too soon for her liking, for though she had a great curiosity as to what had occupied him for the time he was away (and how it involved Lydia), she had quite enjoyed the moments spent together. He led her over to her mother, who beamed. Before she could begin to speak, however, Darcy bowed to her.

“Mrs Bennet, I was upstairs just now, and my sister informed my that Miss Lydia is in her room, with a headache.”

“Oh yes, my poor girl! And she was to dance with all of the officers!” Mrs Bennet lamented.

Elizabeth blushed. “Mama,” she said.

Mr Darcy did not bat an eyelid at her mother’s vulgarity. “I thought I should escort Miss Elizabeth to see her sister, where she can take supper, if she wishes.”

“Elizabeth? Oh, no, there is no call for that. Lydia will be perfectly well, and you would be much better served dining down here,” her mother informed her.

Again, though, Mr Darcy responded firmly. “I believe Miss Lydia would greatly like to see her sister, and my own sister wishes a word with Miss Elizabeth also. I shall escort Miss Elizabeth to them now.”

“Very well,” Mrs Bennet said, glaring at Elizabeth as they walked away.

“Am I to know what really happened tonight?” she wondered as they reached the staircase. “I do not think anything as trivial as a headache could keep my sister Lydia from a ballroom full of officers.”

Mr Darcy looked at her, his expression grave. “Wickham,” he said simply.

“Oh, no, what has she done?” Elizabeth asked, dread filling her at the horrible possibilities.

“Nothing,” he said, quickly, “nothing irreparable, at the very least.” As they made their way to Georgiana’s room, he gave her a quick summary of the night’s events.

“Oh, Lydia. Stupid, stupid Lydia,” Elizabeth sighed.

“She was foolish, yes, but she is not the first girl of fifteen to act so. And I doubt she will be the last. And in truth, I have her to thank for my sister’s safety.”

“You have her to thank for putting Georgiana in danger in the first place,” Elizabeth reminded him.

“All is well,” Darcy said, and then thought better of it. “All will be well,” he amended. “But she seemed upset as she was leaving, so I thought she could use some sisterly companionship.”

“How thoughtful of you,” Elizabeth said.

“Well, I am hoping you will be able to comfort Georgiana also,” he confessed. “I am not of much use in situations such as this.”

Elizabeth smiled. “I shall do my best,” she said. They had arrived at Georgiana’s room. He paused for a moment, as if to say something, and then thought better of it.

“I will leave you now. Thank you, Miss Bennet,” he said, earnestly.

“Thank you, Mr Darcy, for coming to my sister’s aid,” she replied.

“It was nothing,” he insisted. He took her hand, pressing it warmly for a moment before he took his leave.

Elizabeth was left to try to compose herself before she knocked on Georgiana’s door.

*****

Elizabeth stayed for a short time with Georgiana and Lydia, but Georgiana was exhausted, and Elizabeth advised her to attempt to sleep.

She embraced her warmly. “You must come visit tomorrow,” she said soothingly. “And do not be overly harsh on yourself. You made a mistake, but all will be well.”

The rest of the ball was rather a blur to Elizabeth. Lydia rallied slightly, but she did not dance. Elizabeth could see her relief as they reached Longbourn, and she retired quickly.

Elizabeth herself slept little that night. She was awake, staring out the window as the sun rose, when there was a soft knock on the door.

“Lizzy?” Lydia’s whisper came.

“Come in,” Elizabeth replied softly.

Her sister stepped inside, her eyes red from tears and her cheeks stained.

“Oh, Lydia,” she said, crossing the room to wrap her youngest sister in an embrace. “All is well, darling.”

“It is not,” Lydia insisted. “It shall never be well again. Oh, Lizzy, I am truly such a silly, stupid girl.”

“Lydia,” Elizabeth interrupted. “Do not speak such. Come, you are cold. Into bed with you.”

They curled under the covers, Lydia looking truly miserable. “What is it, Lydia?” Elizabeth asked.

Lydia paused before she replied. “I know all shall be well with Wickham, and that Mr Darcy will take care of everything. But - the things he said of me. And Denny too. All of the officers, they see me as a silly, as a - Oh, I cannot even say it.”

Elizabeth pulled her close so Lydia's head rested against her chest, and stroked her hair. “Oh, Lydia, I am sure it was just Wickham and Denny speaking in a most ungentlemanlike manner.”

Lydia shook her head. “No. I do not - they said they would not marry me. Wickham said he would not, even if I had thirty thousand pounds. Am I truly so horrid?”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “Lydia, you are not,” she said.

“I am,” Lydia repeated. “I am silly and vain and not at all like you or Jane or Mary. I have no accomplishments - I cannot even play poorly, like Mary, and have not read all the books you have, and I am not nearly as lovely as Jane. And as to Miss Darcy - she can do all of that, and more. I always thought - that none of that mattered because I was fun and the officers and men liked to laugh with me. But that is all they wish to do, is it not? None of them truly want to marry me.”

Elizabeth knew not what to say to this. Horribly, part of her felt that this was a wonderful development. She had not thought her youngest sister would ever display even the slightest interest in anything that was not bonnets and officers. What a pity it had come with such a cost.

“Lydia, you are but fifteen,” Elizabeth said gently. “You will not like me saying so, but you are young yet. You have time to learn. I could point you in the direction of some books. And if you truly wish to play, I could begin to teach you.”

Lydia sniffed. “Perhaps,” she said. “But everyone already sees me as a silly, stupid girl.”

“Then you must make them change how they see you,” Elizabeth said. “It can be done, if you persevere. If you truly change.”

“I shall have to,” she said, solemnly.

“But you must not change completely,” Elizabeth said. “You must look at your behaviour, and see where you can make corrections. But do not forget who you are.”

Lydia nodded slowly. “I do not wish to be like Jane,” she said. “She is lovely, and everyone likes her, but I do not think I could act as she does.”

Elizabeth smiled. “No one could. She is too good, and everyone’s behaviour must fall short compared to hers.”

“I should like to be like you,” Lydia mused.

Elizabeth arched a brow. “Truly? I do not know if I am the beacon of good behaviour.”

“But you are better than I. And you still smile and laugh and have fun. You have made Mr Darcy love you, so there must be something to it.”

Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed. “Lydia, I have not-”

Lydia gave her a mildly irritated look. “Oh, Lizzy, really. I saw the way he rushed back to make your dance last night. He loves you, I am sure of it. Miss Darcy agrees.”

Elizabeth swallowed, not knowing how to respond to such a statement. “You should spend more time with Miss Darcy,” she said, eventually. “She is shy, very shy, but I think she could use a friend like you.”

“You really think I would be a good influence on her?” Lydia asked, incredulously. “After all I have put her through?”

“Well, you have confidence, which is not in itself a bad thing,” Elizabeth said. She pressed a kiss to her sister’s head. “All will be well, my dear. All will be well.”