The Zephyr

Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

BARE TOES IN THE RIVER LEA

O ur reunion with Lydia was both anxious and affecting. She came in the door and was instantly enveloped by sisters who had held her in their prayers for months.

Perhaps she had expected to be chastised or even rejected, I do not know. In any case, she had not expected to be subjected to so much affection and had dissolved into buckets of tears. We took her upstairs to dote upon her and to reassure her of her place within our family. This was a delicate procedure, for none of us had the required temerity to mention the reason such assurances were required, and there hung a heavy cloud over our heads containing all that we could not say aloud.

Throughout this uncomfortable period of becoming reacquainted with Lydia, I was delighted to have Jane home and thankful to have the support of my aunt Gardiner. Since I had learnt to drive meanwhile, just as soon as was seemly, I took all three of them for private outings in the Zephyr .

Lydia was most reluctant to be seen by anyone she knew, and our general plan was to take her to church on Sunday where she could briefly greet friends before we hastened her home on some excuse of a family party with our little cousins in the afternoon. In effect, we intended to gradually reintroduce her to the neighbourhood. With this in mind, I took her up to Oakham which was almost always avoided by everyone in the heat of late summer. The climb on foot was too hot to bear, and if one had a horse or a gig, there were many other places to go—such as the riverbank or the cool, rock-studded streams in the shade of the woodlands.

Despite a persistent shyness in my presence, Lydia looked at me with a touch of surprise and said, “You drive so well, Lizzy.”

I had to smile a little at that, for Mr Darcy would have taken exception to her assessment of my proficiency. That said, I was comporting myself with restraint and did not bounce us around any corners, since my youngest sister had about her a lingering air of wounded fragility.

“Would you like to…talk?” I asked her gently. When she did not instantly answer, I quickly added a second question. “Or would you rather forget?”

She looked down at her hands before overcoming her hesitation. “Both, I suppose. I only wish someone would tell me…”

“What, dearest?” I pressed.

“Is he still here?” she whispered.

“Did no one tell you, Lyddie? Mr Wickham eloped with Miss King not two days after he left you at the millpond.”

“Oh,” she said in a blank little voice. “I feel sorry for her.”

“As do we all. But why did our aunt not tell you?”

“Oh, do not fault her. She and Jane have done as much as they could to help me forget, you know, which is what I wanted most. And to be fair, I did not ask when she said we would leave Brighton for Longbourn. Perhaps they assumed that I knew, only I dreaded…” Her voice faded.

“Of course you did. But come now, you are home and there has not been a particle of gossip or anything untoward. You may smile again, just as you used to. Do you remember how gay you were this time last year? What I would not give to hear you giggle again.”

She did smile, albeit fleetingly, at my reference to a habit that had only ever exasperated me. This was a start at least, and I began to relax. Yet, just as we rounded the last curve of the road up to the clearing at the summit, my fledgling feelings of reassurance where Lydia was concerned were newly quashed. For there at the summit, looking over the fields and farms of Hertfordshire, sat Mr Darcy atop his dappled grey horse.

“Miss Elizabeth, Miss Lydia,” he said tipping his hat.

My sister sat mute with dismay at such a meeting. So much for believing she would soon be her old self again! To shield her from the gentleman’s scrutiny, I threw myself into the breach with that bright, forward manner I had so recently renounced.

“Mr Darcy! It is warm to be up so high, is it not? It feels as though we are closer to the sun than we ought to be.”

“Yet, here you are,” he observed. Did he wish to goad me into a retort? I would not give him the satisfaction! There was no shame in retreat given the circumstances.

“Well, having satisfied ourselves that it is indeed perishingly hot up here, I believe we shall return home.”

“Might I assist you in turning the team around?” he asked .

“Are you indeed poking my pride? If so, might I offer a little hint that it is broadly considered unhandsome to remind a lady of her failures?”

“I beg your pardon,” he said gravely, though his eyes belied his amusement at my expense.

Unfortunately, by that time in the encounter, I was so sadly unnerved by the prospect of botching the turn with my uncertain sister on the one hand and my exasperating overseer on the other, I was forced to concede.

I smiled sweetly at the gentleman and said, “But I see you are determined to make a point, and I would in no wise wish to disabuse you of any one of your narrow opinions of my driving. Thus, I shall submit to your help and thank you besides.”

“Delighted,” he said, dismounting and leading my ponies in a tight circle until we faced the road downhill. “Good day, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Lydia,” he said smugly upon releasing his grip on the bridle and tipping his hat.

“Good day, sir,” Lydia managed to mumble on behalf of us both, while I, slightly annoyed and with bits of hair stuck to a sheen of sweat on my forehead, drove us off in an attitude of stately disdain.

“I do not recall him being so kind,” Lydia remarked eventually.

“Who? Mr Darcy? Oh yes,” I said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “He is a veritable Saint Christopher, is he not?”

Thinking to avoid a similar meeting on the following day when I took Jane out, I turned towards the River Lea and took her to a clearing by a shallow eddy where we had often waded as children. The day was even hotter than the previous day had been, and in no time, we had tethered my ponies to a sapling in the shade in the hollow at the edge of the clearing and had stripped off our shoes and stockings. We sat on a low outcropping of stones with our backs against a generous willow bent low, trailing its distal branches in the current and tickling our toes in the water.

We had said everything already to one another, for we slept in the same room and had indulged in more than one late-night conference since her return from London. Jane had come about, or so it seemed to me. She had a pressing concern—in this instance, Lydia—who needed a great deal of careful attention. Since this concern had nothing to do with my elder sister’s feelings, wounded or otherwise, she claimed to have found it to be paradoxically curative.

“And if— when —you see Mr Bingley?” I had whispered in the candlelight.

“I shall look upon him with indifference,” she said with a light shrug.

I was anxious to believe her but dreaded their meeting all the same, for how often do we believe ourselves to be stronger than we are? Was she indulging in a mistaken belief or was she truly rid of her tendre for the gentleman?

This question of the previous night hung languidly over me on that sultry afternoon as we sat in blissful repose, both of us near to dozing, for the water was no less delightful than the call of the rush birds and the drone of a thousand insects.

In fact, the scene was so idyllic I believe I did doze off for a spell, since the nicker of one of my ponies startled me awake. As I sat up to look around, there came into the clearing Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley.

Jane was mortified to be caught without shoes or stockings, and Mr Bingley was mortified to see my sister thus disconcerted. Between the two of them ensued a conversation made up entirely of stammers and half-sentences, and thus it fell to me to call a halt.

With my skirt in one hand, I stood up from our rock and walked barefoot up the mudbank to the dry ground where sat the Zephyr, and I retrieved our shoes and stockings. I calmly handed Jane’s to her, sat back down, and after washing the mud from my feet, I proceeded—as primly as possible—to put myself to rights whilst shielding Jane’s ankles from view. I did all this while speaking as casually as I would had we met the gentlemen at a card party.

“I see you gentlemen have found our local bathing spot. I wonder who I might scold for giving away Meryton’s best kept secret, hmm? Mr John Lucas, I should wager. He is as loose-lipped as my aunt Philips. At any rate, sir,” I said, looking up amiably at Mr Bingley so he would know I was only half-joking when I upbraided him, “I daresay if you have not abandoned the neighbourhood after all, then you should know of this place. Why, in ten years’ time, you might almost be considered a Hertfordshire man, but meanwhile, you are sworn to secrecy, sir.”

By this time, I had stood, helped Jane to her feet, and led her across a few stones in the mudbank to my curricle. I took the reins and stepped up to the bench after her, and with a flick of the leather, we were soon rolling past the two gentlemen who watched my progress with blinking consternation.

“Well, that was not so bad,” I said as I raised our pace to a decent canter.

“Not bad?” Jane said faintingly whilst clasping her hands to her cheeks. “I shall die of shame!”

My heart sank even as I bravely said, “Poo! Ladies everywhere wade in the shallows in summer, dear heart. He did not see you in your shift, you know.”

“Oh, thank goodness he did not. But I do not think I can show my face to him again.”

“Very well. You may scuttle about in the attics for the rest of your life if you would like. Meanwhile, pray explain why you care so very much that he saw you with your feet in the water, hmm? You do not see me cringing in horror that Mr Darcy watched me padding barefoot through the mud to retrieve our shoes, do you? I do not care one jot what he thinks!”

This rallied my sister’s courage a little. She replied faintly that she was not as stout-hearted as I and that she would learn to care little for Mr Bingley’s opinion just as soon as she had a glass of cold lemonade. The heat had got the better of her composure, and moreover, she had left half her wits in Brighton where she had met so many handsome young men as to befuddle a person.

I smiled as though I believed her and did not tease her any further. If I were in love with a man, I would not want to admit it any more than she did!

Thankfully, the day after that unfortunate meeting was overcast and slightly cooler, and I took my aunt Gardiner out in my curricle with absolute confidence I would not meet Mr Darcy or anyone else I did not wish to, for that matter. Twice in a row had been sufficiently coincidental; to meet him again would have been downright suspicious.

We rode out to Lindbury Wood and up to the Lea bridge, for the prospect was lovely, and the road made a wide loop back through the village where we planned to end our outing at the sundries shop.

My aunt and I spoke at length about Lydia throughout this outing. She was of the opinion that as soon as London was declared safe, she should take my youngest sister to live with her permanently. I heartily agreed and promised to reconcile my mother to this plan if I could, for Lydia seemed much attached to the Gardiner children and spent all her free time entertaining them. “A meaningful occupation can do wonders for low spirits,” she said, to which I replied that, moreover, old habits might resurface if she returned to the place where they were first formed.

“Some things take a little time,” my aunt said wisely, “and she is young. In a few more months and with the added blessing of distance, she may well have her happiness restored. And who knows? She might even enjoy dancing again. But if she does not, she has a place with us and will never want for any attention or comfort. She is only in need of a little guidance,” she concluded delicately.

“And Jane?” I asked bluntly. “Is she still pining for Mr Bingley?”

“If she is, she has managed to keep her heart afloat regardless. Of all my nieces, Jane is the most sensible, my dear,” she said with a wink.

“Are you accusing me of something, Aunt?”

“You,” she said grandly, “are too curious and too great a thinker to be sensible.”

“Is that a compliment, I wonder?” We were used to this kind of honesty between us, and I relished her teasing.

“How insipid it would be to have five sensible, complacent young ladies as nieces. I would rather have a variety, would you not?”

“Yes, but I have begun to think I am too sharp,” I confessed, surprised at how easily I did so.

“Such doubts are to your credit, Lizzy. But you are as God made you, and if you are uncommonly witty, then you must give yourself a little freedom to poke fun at people, so long as you take care to do so only with those who can poke fun in return.”

“Like you?”

“Yes.” She chuckled. “You may freely dish out your impertinence to me. I am delighted by it!”

Again, I felt the familiar rush of gratitude. Could life really be so benign as to spare me more anxieties as to my own nature, Jane’s disappointments, and most particularly, could I comfortably cease to fret over Lydia’s future? What joy could I then feel free to entertain if the happiness of both my oldest and youngest sisters was assured?

With my heart soaring, we drove around the beet fields and through one cloud of gnats and then another.

“Close your mouth, Aunt!” I cried, for I was used to the country, and she was not. We fell into a fit of giggles when she spluttered that I had warned her too late, and no sooner had we recovered from the gnats than an enormous grasshopper landed on her bonnet which caused her to shriek in good-natured terror.

“Shall I drive us past the Milson’s dairy barn?” I asked purely out of mischief. “There is a flock of starlings there that would amaze you.”

“You would not dare, Lizzy,” she said tartly. “I know you are only teasing me, since you would run the same risk as I of being soiled by bird droppings.”

“True, but I am country-bred, ma’am, and would think nothing of it.” I grinned at her and clicking at my horses, I steered us down the lane past the dairy where the cloud of black birds that flocked around the manure rose up and swooped over us in a mighty, thrilling murmuration .

Aunt Gardiner was extremely sporting throughout this abuse, and as I pulled back onto the lane to return to Meryton proper, we were so consumed by laughter that we failed to notice an approaching curricle until it was practically upon us.

“Mr Darcy, Miss Bingley!” I cried, struggling to regain my dignity. They pulled to a halt alongside us.

“Miss Bingley, sir,” my aunt said cordially.

“Oh yes. I remember that you met Miss Bingley last winter in London,” I said, looking to Mr Darcy to see if he wished an introduction to my aunt. Fortunately, it was not needed.

“I have met Mr Darcy before as well, although to be fair, he cannot be expected to remember me.”

He looked at her in surprise, and she went on to politely explain. “I grew up in Lambton, sir, but so long ago as must be another lifetime. May I say now that I am pleased to meet you again?”

He reciprocated this greeting and looked poised to say more, but his passenger was not as amenable to lingering as he.

“I do wish you would drive on, Mr Darcy,” she said, batting a fly away from her face. Turning to me, she exclaimed, “I do not know what you find so agreeable about a drive in the countryside. I cannot wait to return to the house!”

“As they say, there is no accounting for preference,” I replied sweetly before turning to Mr Darcy. “Might I warn you, sir? This lane leads to a dairy farm, and there is a monstrous flock of starlings lying in wait for passersby. I would not want Miss Bingley’s outing ruined by a fright.”

“But you have just come that way,” he said .

“True, but Mrs Gardiner is game for anything.”

“Am I? Perhaps I am, Lizzy. I screamed just the once,” she said confidingly to the gentleman. “But do take Miss Bingley another way, sir, for if my niece ever asked me to go there again, I would decline rather loudly. Good day, ma’am—sir.”

We parted ways, and my aunt, whose mood had been light as froth and irreverent besides, sat back irritably.

“Why we would have to meet with that…well, never mind. The less said of her the better.”