Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Hertfordshire
Lydia Bennet strolled along the path toward Meryton, arm in arm with Kitty.
She could feel her elder sister’s impatience; with every step, the more animated of the two tugged a little on Lydia’s arm, urging her to quicken her pace.
But Lydia resisted. She had spent the last months working to heed Mr. Wickham’s words on a lady’s behavior, and she would not let Kitty’s impatience ruin her ladylike gait.
Oh, how she desperately wanted the handsome young clerk to notice her!
Mr. Wickham was everything a gentleman ought to be.
He was affable, kind, and terribly handsome, and Lydia was determined that he would pick her to be his wife.
But the obtuse man scarcely paid her any heed at all.
He was polite, yet distant, and Lydia grew increasingly annoyed that he failed to pay her any special attention.
Their purpose in braving the cold was to seek some diversion away from Longbourn.
Mrs. Bennet was entirely consumed with wedding plans and Lydia was sick of hearing of Jane’s triumph.
Her own wishes to be the first wed had been quite overthrown with her eldest sister’s engagement.
Jane’s return from London had pushed their mama into raptures hitherto yet unseen in the household.
Nothing was too good for Jane, and Mrs. Bennet was determined that her eldest daughter have a wedding fit for a queen.
And so, Lydia had convinced her elder sister of the need to venture from the house, despite the freezing weather. Kitty wished to call on some of the soldiers and Lydia wished to visit Aunt Phillips, in hopes of seeing Mr. Wickham.
Once in Meryton, they strolled along in front of the shops, stopping here and there to examine the window displays. It was while they were discussing a rather fetching bonnet in the haberdashery window that they encountered Miss Darcy and her companion.
The fashionably dressed young lady was only a few months’ Lydia’s senior, and Lydia was slightly envious of her. Though, in Lydia’s opinion, Miss Darcy could not hold a candle to her own beauty, the young lady’s access to the latest fashions quite made up the lack of physical appeal.
She was dressed today in a fur-lined pelisse of a pale, ice blue.
There was cream embroidery on the sleeves and hemline, and she sported a muff that matched the fur collar on the garment.
Her blond curls peeked out from under a wide-brimmed bonnet of the same color.
Miss Darcy seemed to favor the blue-and-cream color combination.
The cold had also pinked her cheeks, rendering her rather pretty in that moment.
“Miss Lydia, Miss Kitty,” Miss Darcy said politely. Her tone was neither warm nor cool, and she appraised them with what looked like mild disdain. But then she smiled and dropped her eyes, and Lydia wondered if the lady was simply shy.
“Miss Darcy,” Lydia greeted the young lady. “How are you today?”
They exchanged pleasantries, and Lydia invited Miss Darcy to join them as they strolled. She agreed, and on they went, stopping at each window and even entering a few of the shops.
Inside one shop, Lydia found the most exquisite lavender ribbon. It was two inches wide and would go perfectly with the bonnet she was remaking. She checked the price and sighed sadly. The cost was far too dear, for her quarterly allowance had long since been spent elsewhere.
“Why do you not get it?” Miss Darcy asked. “It would go well with your coloring, I am certain. And it is wide enough that you might add some embroidery.”
Lydia was dreadfully embarrassed as she admitted she had not the funds. Miss Darcy could hardly know what it was like to go without for that reason, of course.
“Then I shall purchase it for you,” Miss Darcy declared. “For I have determined that we are to be the best of friends!”
“I could not allow you to go to such trouble,” Lydia said, well aware of the longing coloring her voice. In the past, she might have simply accepted with glee, but she was trying her hardest to behave properly.
“Nonsense,” Miss Darcy replied firmly. “I insist.” And Lydia’s new best friend scooped up the ribbon and promptly purchased a full two yards worth.
Lydia thanked Miss Darcy profusely for her beneficence as she rolled the length of ribbon tightly and secured it in her bag.
Miss Darcy and her companion joined them for tea with Mrs. Phillips. Mrs. Annesley was pleased to speak with Lydia’s aunt while the girls conversed together. Lydia glanced frequently at the door, willing Mr. Wickham to enter. It was after the third glance that Miss Darcy commented on her behavior.
“Are you expecting someone, Miss Lydia?” she asked. “I cannot help but notice you are watching the door.”
“Oh, Lydia wishes for Mr. Wickham,” Kitty giggled. “She is sweet on him, despite the fact that he does not wear a red coat.”
Miss Darcy eyed her curiously, and Lydia found herself blushing, both at Kitty’s outburst and the revelation of Lydia’s heartfelt desires being paraded about to a near stranger.
The tall, young woman continued to gaze at Lydia in contemplation for a time before reaching out and refreshing her teacup. She was silent as she stirred cream and sugar into her tea, then raised the cup to her lips and took a sip.
“I have known Mr. Wickham since my infancy,” Miss Darcy confided at last. “He is an amiable gentleman and can please where he wishes. I find him rather too interested in the business of those around him.”
“You mean he is a gossip?” Kitty giggled madly.
“Mr. Wickham’s business is people,” Lydia defended. “Of course, he is concerned with what is happening in his environs.”
“You do fancy him, then?” Miss Darcy asked quietly.
“I—” Lydia did not know how to answer, conscious as she was that Miss Darcy was asking for confidences that Lydia was not ready to share.
“Oh, yes indeed, she does!” Kitty declared. “And he does not care two straws for her, I am sure. Why, he treats her as a little sister, I dare say.”
“You take that back,” Lydia hissed. “He is simply polite.”
“He treats you nothing like Bingley treats Jane,” Kitty insisted. “You are scarcely more than a child to him. If he has interest in anybody, it should be me, for I am two years older than you.”
Lydia bit her tongue against the retort she wished to hurl at her sister.
Kitty had followed Lydia’s lead as her younger sister had begun changing, at least at first. Soon, though, she had chafed horribly at the changes in Lydia, declaring that the youngest Bennet sister was ‘no fun anymore,’ and ‘dreadfully dull.’
Miss Darcy touched Lydia’s arm in a comforting manner. “Fear not, Miss Lydia,” she said soothingly. “Perhaps you simply are not going about the business of love in the appropriate manner.”
“What do you mean?” Lydia asked curiously. Miss Darcy was scarcely older than she was. What would she know?
“Mr. Wickham is a year younger than my brother,” Miss Darcy said.
“He is nearly twenty-seven; he has lived in the world much more than we ladies have. And he was raised as a gentleman, even if his father did not own any land. Perhaps Mr. Wickham has certain expectations when it comes to the fairer sex.”
Lydia scrunched her brow. What did Miss Darcy mean? Mr. Wickham had already told Lydia what a lady’s behavior and comportment looked like.
“Gentlemen like to know of a lady’s interest,” Miss Darcy whispered. “I spent some time with my companion’s family over the summer, you know, and her brother told me so.”
“But how?” Lydia asked in bemusement. “I have been told a lady must not be so obvious in her preferences.”
Georgiana laughed a tinkling, bell-like laugh. “Wherever did you get such a notion?” she said when her mirth had subsided. “How else is a gentleman to know a lady cares for him?”
The door opened just then and in strode Uncle Phillips and Mr. Wickham.
“I am dreadfully sorry for the delay, my dear,” Uncle said cheerfully. “But I see our company was not missed.”
Miss Darcy rose abruptly. “We really must be leaving,” she said. “My brother is expecting us in a short time. Miss Kitty, Miss Lydia, Mrs. Phillips, it was a pleasure visiting with you.”
The two ladies departed forthwith and Lydia watched them go, confusion warring within her. She looked at Mr. Wickham, her brow creased in anxiety and confusion. He met her gaze, and a puzzled look crossed his own face.
For the first time, he chose to sit by Lydia, but much to her irritation, Lydia found that the preoccupation of her thoughts rendered her rather stupid that afternoon. Just a short while later, she indicated her desire to leave, and Kitty reluctantly accompanied her.
Kitty chattered on and on as they walked briskly back to Longbourn. Lydia ignored her, thinking over and over about what Miss Darcy had said, and how she would go about gaining Mr. Wickham’s notice.
George was rather bewildered. This was the second time in the recent past that a Bennet sister had regarded him with such a confusing stare. Miss Mary had not deigned to speak to him since that fateful night, and now Miss Lydia seemed somewhat ill at ease in his presence.
George examined his own behavior. He had done nothing, he was sure, to earn the disapprobation of the young ladies of Longbourn. Why in the world were things now so odd?
He shrugged and resolved to think nothing more of it for now. He was to dine with Darcy tonight at the inn in Meryton, and he was quite looking forward to it.
Wickham was ten minutes early and waited for Darcy just inside the inn’s door. His friend arrived promptly at six, and the innkeeper escorted them to a private parlor Darcy had reserved for them.
Once seated and their meal ordered, Darcy sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face.
“You seem a little worse for wear this evening,” George observed cheerfully. “To what do I owe your long-suffering sighs?”
“Oh, the usual I suppose,” Darcy replied. “Georgiana is much as she was, though Mrs. Annesley says she speaks with the Miss Bennets a great deal. And I find myself in a difficult situation… one in which I do not know how to find my way out.”
“If you wish for advice, I am happy to oblige, as much as I am able,” George replied.
“I know not where to begin,” Darcy confessed. “I suppose I should begin with relating my history here in Hertfordshire.”
Darcy related much of what Wickham had already heard, and George’s belief that his friend fancied Miss Elizabeth Bennet grew with each passing minute.
“And so, you left after Bingley’s ball, determined never to return, and to never set foot in Hertfordshire again?” he asked. “What changed?”
“A discussion,” he said, “with my Matlock relations during Christmas. They gave their blessing, in a manner of speaking, to my marrying where I wished.”
“Did they now?” George said in shock. “I hardly know what to say.”
“Neither did I,” Darcy replied. “Now I find that my every hope might be within my grasp. But I have never seriously courted a lady before. Do I approach her first or might it just be prudent to get her father’s blessing first, before I speak with her?”
“I am assuming, since you mention a father, that the lady of your desires is not Miss Bingley?” George asked humorously.
“Heavens, no!” Darcy cried. “As much as I respect her brother, Miss Bingley would not do for me. She dislikes the country and has not the intelligence to challenge me. No, it is Miss Elizabeth Bennet of whom I speak.”
George said nothing, trying to organize his thoughts before speaking.
“Well, say something!” Darcy said hotly. “Do you disapprove?”
“No,” George said. “I do not, but I would urge you to exercise caution before acting.”
“Why?”
“Because I have it on very good authority that Miss Elizabeth does not look as favorably upon you as you do upon her,” George said carefully.
“What?” Darcy said incredulously. “Whyever not?”
“I was informed scarcely hours after my arrival of a certain… insult you leveled at her upon your meeting.”
“I do not…” Darcy stopped speaking as comprehension dawned on his expression. “Oh no,” he whispered. “She heard that? I did not mean it. I was in a temper and Bingley’s blasted good humor displeased me.”
“I do not need your explanations, and Miss Elizabeth will see them as little more than excuses,” George chided. “You have turned the whole community against you, my friend. I have done my best to repair some of the damage, but you must do the rest.”
“But how?” Darcy asked desperately.
“By putting off your distrust for long enough to make yourself agreeable to those with whom you associate,” George replied.
“You should also know that Miss Elizabeth overheard a good portion of our conversation at the Netherfield Ball. She was quite upset that you wished to separate her sister and your friend.”
“So, there is no hope,” Darcy said sadly. “She despises me.”
“There is always hope,” George answered. “She has seen the very worst of you. Now you must show her the very best. I would start by winning Mrs. Bennet over. The lady loves to gossip, and it would be in your favor to have her spreading positive information about you.”
Darcy groaned. “Must I?” he asked. “Mrs. Bennet is… there are no words!”
“I imagine she is rather like your aunt Catherine,” Wickham mused. “Minus, of course, the belief that she is better than everyone around her.”
Darcy’s gaze shot to Wickham’s face, and George read the shock there. He smiled a little half smile. “Come now, my friend,” he said. “You have resisted Lady Catherine’s attempts at maneuvering you for years. You put up with her admirably. Mrs. Bennet is no different.”
“I suppose I must try,” Darcy agreed reluctantly.
“I would spend your energies over the next week or so currying favor with the residents of Meryton,” George advised. “Allow them to see who you are beneath your mask. Seek out Miss Elizabeth regularly and let her see it as well.”
Darcy nodded slowly. “I will do so,” he said.
Their meal complete, the two friends parted ways. George wandered off down the street, whistling merrily. The night’s work was well done, and Wickham had every hope that his friend would be very happy in the end.