Chapter Thirty-Two #2
“Of course, I have no desire to burden you, Mama.” Lydia dropped her eyes back to the floor.
“Lizzy would wish to hide you here during your mourning, but I will not keep you. Not after your behavior drove away your eldest sister and her dear husband! They will not take a chance at becoming responsible for you, and so I must do without my eldest daughter’s support when I need it most!”
“Jane demanded that you marry us all off so she would not be burdened with us, and we have all married, just as she bid,” Elizabeth interrupted furiously.
“Lydia has been gone for months, and even in her widowed state, it is openly known that I have taken responsibility for her. Your daughter left Meryton the moment my father became ill because she did not want to become responsible for you.”
“I beg everyone’s pardon, but I am becoming impatient at this subject of conversation,” Mary spoke up.
“My husband and I, indeed everyone here, have traveled to Meryton in haste because my father is ill. You say that Papa is much improved, Mrs Bennet, but you do not say how. Would you please be more explicit about the reason we all came?”
Mrs Bennet glared at her third daughter. “That would be your concern, Mary Bennet. Your father has improved. You should not plan to inherit on this visit.”
“That is not fair,” Elizabeth disagreed. “You wished for Mary to marry Papa’s heir. Indeed, you danced about this very room when you learnt of it. You can hardly object to her position now. Mr Bennet is still her father.”
Mrs Bennet clamped her mouth shut and glared at them, refusing to give them the information they sought.
“It is enough to know today that my father-in-law has improved,” Mr Collins said, looking at Darcy in an effort to dispel the resentment in the room. “We shall return tomorrow, and perhaps he might be well enough for one of us to visit him.”
“Indeed,” Darcy agreed with Collins. “Mrs Bennet, we rejoice in hearing that Mr Bennet’s health is improving. If you require anything for his comfort, whether it is fruit or medicine from town, or to send for my physician, please call for us. We will trouble you no further today.”
Mrs Bennet rose and rang for Mrs Hill, waving a hand at them in disregard. “See that you do not.”
Later that day, Elizabeth looked out the window to see Lydia in the garden at Netherfield, sitting alone on a bench, staring thoughtfully at the view of Hertfordshire the vantage afforded.
A flash of colour appeared. Of course. Lydia’s best friend, Maria Lucas would turn up as soon as it was known that she was here.
Elizabeth left the parlour and the house by the front door, hoping to distract Maria with her own greeting if Lydia needed her. The young ladies sat upon the bench side by side, facing away from her as she approached.
“Did you dine with the officers every night?” Elizabeth heard Maria ask.
“No,” Lydia answered quietly.
“Did you dance with them at the assemblies? You must have danced the heels off of your slippers! I know I would have.” Maria sighed, thinking about her life in Newcastle, if she had one.
“No,” Lydia answered quietly. “Newcastle is a serious place. The officers there have work to do. It is different from the militia.”
“Did you become the favourite of the colonel’s wife?” Maria pressed. “I am certain that your lively nature must have–”
“No,” Lydia emphasised, “I only met the Colonel’s wife once, just before I left.”
“Well what was it like in Newcastle?” Maria demanded.
“It was terrible, Maria!” Lydia rose to her feet and turned away. “It was cold and raining all the time, and I was miserable until Lizzy took me away!”
“Lydia!” Maria gasped. “I–”
“Do not marry an officer, Maria!” Lydia warned.
“They cannot afford to keep wives, they can barely afford to feed themselves, and if they are not in the higher ranks, they drink, and swear, and seduce young girls, and gamble away all of their wages! Even the married ones. Please do not ask me to speak of it again!”
Lydia turned, and in a whirl of black, pushed past Elizabeth and fled to the house. Elizabeth watched her go, then turned back to Maria. “Miss Maria. It is so good to see you. I am sorry if you walked all this way, my sister is…”
“She is different,” Maria blurted out.
“Yes,” Elizabeth said simply. “One day, she will feel better, but she is a brand new widow, and only just turned seventeen. She needs time.”
“It must have been dreadful…for her to say such things.” Maria looked toward the house worriedly.
“I believe so,” Elizabeth agreed.
Maria was silent for a moment, her face dark in consternation. “Mrs Darcy, would you tell her something, for me?”
“Of course,”
“Tell Lydia…tell her that I will never repeat what she said…not even to my own sister…tell her…tell her I am sorry I upset her…most exceedingly sorry…and that I will heed her warning.”
“You are a good friend, Miss Maria, and Lydia needs good friends.” Elizabeth hugged the young woman. “Walk with me to the house, and I will send you home in my carriage. I do hope that you and Lady Lucas and Charlotte will call upon me tomorrow afternoon after I have visited Mr and Mrs Bennet.”
An hour later, Maria Lucas had taken tea with Elizabeth and Georgiana in Netherfield’s drawing room, and was on her way home in Elizabeth’s carriage.
Elizabeth found Lydia alone in her room, staring out of the window, clutching her black shawl about herself tightly, and felt a pang of sympathy.
No sooner than they had replaced some of Lydia’s clothes than it became necessary to dye them all black.
Elizabeth had promised her sister both a half-mourning wardrobe and a new colourful one, just as soon as it became appropriate.
Anything to lift the girl’s spirits. She would not indulge her too much, but at the very least, Lydia deserved new clothes, for all the troubles she had experienced.
“Thank you for smoothing it over with Maria,” Lydia said, not turning away from the window. “I must call upon Lucas Lodge and apologise to her.”
“I do not think that will be necessary,” Elizabeth said, then gave Lydia her friend’s message.
“Maria is too good.” Lydia looked down. “I do not deserve such a friend.”
“You are not the only one who changed while you were away, Miss Maria has grown up as well.” Elizabeth smiled. “And Miss Maria must decide who deserves her friendship.”
Lydia turned to Elizabeth and her face crumbled. “Mama does not want me. Kitty will not even see me. I am not wanted anywhere. If not for you, I would be destitute.”
“That is not true,” Elizabeth said firmly as she held her sister.
“You might not live richly without me, but you have an income. It is enough to provide for you. You are not dependent upon anyone. You are safe. And you have family to protect you. You live with me because I want you to. You would be just as welcome with Mary, or even Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, you still have the lovely letter they wrote to you. I beg your pardon, sister, but the entire family is not made up of only our parents, Jane, and Kitty.”
Elizabeth stroked her sister’s hair as Lydia sniffed.
“I must ask Darcy and our uncle to explain your income to you when we go to London. You will feel more secure and sure of your welfare if you understand what you will have, and what you can afford on your own. Anything I provide for you is a gift of love and care, Lyddie, and you must accept it in the spirit in which it is given.”
“I did not think I would survive him,” Lydia said soberly. “I do not know what to do now.”
“Now, you will finish growing up, as you ought to have done before you married. You will do so under my protection, I pray.” Elizabeth raised a brow as Lydia nodded obediently.
“And in time, you will enter society. One day, you will meet someone new. Not a scoundrel. A proper gentleman, and he will make you forget the rest.”
Lydia did not argue, and Elizabeth thought to herself that perhaps that was the greatest sign of how much her youngest sister had changed.
Their visit to Meryton lasted perhaps a fortnight, there was no point in remaining very long when Mr Bennet was finally recovering, and Mrs Bennet was so displeased to see them all.
Only Mr Collins and Mr Darcy had visited Mr Bennet, though Darcy had summoned his physician from London to satisfy himself that all that could be done for the man was attended to.
Mr Bennet declined to see his daughters, and Elizabeth decided that Lydia’s continued recovery would be best contrived away from her disapproving mother and the matrons and old friends of her youth, and so the family departed to London while Mr and Mrs Collins travelled south to Hunsford.