Chapter Twenty-One #2
The house, when she arrived home tired and covered in dust and crushed leaves, was in its accustomed state of disarray.
Mama was running about commanding the servants as to the procurement and placement of Christmas greenery whilst Jane attempted to talk to her about some detail regarding this evening’s dinner.
There was something glum about Jane’s accustomed smile, but that must surely be from all the work involved in preparing for Christmas.
The Bennets were to host the Phillips, the Longs, and the Downings for Christmas dinner, and Mrs. Bennet was still in the midst of preparing boxes for the tenants, to be distributed on Christmas day, as well as helping the servants to plan their own celebrations on Boxing Day.
There was a great deal of work still to be done.
Papa, when she found him, was not in his study where he was wont to escape the noise and energy of the house, but seated on a bench in the wilderness beyond the formal gardens, close to where the old tower adjoined the modern part of the house.
He was staring into the woods with a sad expression on his face.
He smiled when he noticed his daughter approach, but she had not missed the regret in his eyes.
“Christmas always makes me think about family,” he explained, “family whom we have lost and will not know again. Now, tell me what is on your mind, my girl, for I know it is something dire.”
How ought she to tell her father about Lydia’s indiscretions without condemning her sister and without revealing the entirety of the story Mr. Darcy told concerning Georgiana? That tale was not hers to tell, and she had promised to keep the secret of it close to her heart.
“I was in the fields today, past the hedgerows,” she chose her words carefully, “and observed, from a distance, a girl I believe was Lydia consorting with an officer.” She waited for her father’s expression of shock, which did not come.
“Papa, you must speak with her, make her see the damage her folly will bring on the rest of us. She will never listen to me, but you can bring her to heel!” Her father sat there, his melancholy eyes gazing out into the woods, his lips silent.
“Will you not forbid her to deal with the officers, or keep her at home if she is not with one of her sisters?” How could he be so complacent over the scandalous behaviour of his youngest daughter?
“Lizzy,” he breathed at last, “I thank you for your concern, but Lydia’s behaviour is hers to modulate and not yours.
She has been at home this last half hour or more, and none the worse for wear.
If she was having a flirtation or stealing a kiss, many of her betters have done far worse.
The fields and hedgerows are not so very private that she can engage in any behaviour more damaging than what you observed, and if she is seen, her actions are no worse than what is expected of her.
Better to allow her a flirtation with an officer who will be gone in a month or six weeks, than try to keep her in the house against her will and have her wage full rebellion on us.
Now go and help your mother, Lizzy, for I know she could benefit from your wise counsel. ”
“But Papa, what of Lydia...?”
“I shall talk to her, but do not expect much. If she is determined to be a flirt and court disapprobation, better to allow her to expose herself in the hedgerows than on the streets of Meryton. Now I have had my say and shall not be denied. Run along, Lizzy, and leave me to my peace.” His eyes drifted back into the woods, and she knew there could be nothing else said that he would hear.
If only she could mention Wickham’s name and describe for Papa the unscrupulous sort that officer was, but she had given her word and would not break Mr. Darcy’s trust. Rising from the bench, she turned towards the house.
“She is not so bad as you think, dear girl. I have been watching her.” These parting words from her father were little consolation as she recalled the amorous giggles and kisses she had heard from the other side of the hedge.
And with Wickham, the scoundrel who had already sought to seduce one young woman of fifteen, and who clearly would not baulk at seducing a second.
It was with a heavy heart that Elizabeth retired to her bed that night.
Mama had learned of Charlotte’s engagement and fixed Lizzy with a stern eye when she spoke on the matter.
“He was to have married you, young lady, and kept Longbourn within the family, but no, you were too high and mighty for a parson such as he, and now Longbourn shall pass to Charlotte Lucas when your father is dead. Lady Lucas was here only today to crow about the news and her delight at having a daughter married,” she narrowed her eyes once more, “but all the while, I could see her sizing up the rooms and accounting for the amount of silver her daughter will one day possess. It ought by all rights to have been you.”
Jane had smiled her sweet smiles, but as earlier, Lizzy could see that something was amiss, which her sister refused to tell her, and Lydia smirked all through the meal as though she had a great secret that she would not reveal.
Even Papa was quieter than his wont, with those same sad eyes that she had seen in the wilderness.
Something was not right at Longbourn, and she could not determine what it was.
There were no noises that night, no sounds from the room above hers.
When she awoke at three o’clock and ascended the stairs, she found the room in utter darkness, and returned to her bed with a feeling of uncertainty and dread that she could not shake and passed the remainder of the night in restless discomfort.