Chapter 24 #2
“Please do join me then, Miss Elizabeth,” Anne ordered, much pleased with this initial introduction to the young woman.
The girl was beautiful, but more than that, she was a cheerful and gifted conversationalist. Darcy would be fortunate to win a friendly, charming wife to offset his own silent nature.
***
“We cannot both wear pink to Jane’s wedding, Kitty,” Lydia declared irritably, “and you know I look better in pink than you do.”
“You do not!” Kitty snapped back shrilly. “It is not fair that you always get to choose. I want to wear my own pink gown, and I look as good in pink as you do. Why do you not wear your green dress?”
“You know I despise that dress!” Lydia insisted. “I...”
“Kitty, Lydia?” Mr. Bennet interrupted from the door of the drawing room where he had been standing for a full minute without being noticed.
Both girls looked up in surprise; it was rare that their father left his library in the evening, especially when Elizabeth and Jane were not in the house.
“Yes, Father?” Kitty asked.
Mr. Bennet walked into the room and took a stand in front of his two daughters, his hands locked behind his back.
He silently considered Lydia and Kitty for a full minute, which caused Lydia to toss her head and say, “Father, what is it? Kitty and I are talking about our dresses for Jane’s wedding! ”
“You are arguing about your dresses, not talking,” her father said. “In any case, I have something of far more import to discuss with you than finery.”
Both girls sat up straighter, surprised at his firm tone and the serious expression on his face.
Satisfied that he had their attention, he said, “I have realized in these past days that I have been far too careless about your well-being. This man Wickham, who seemed an honorable gentleman, was in fact a rogue who attempted to murder Mr. Darcy. I am concerned that some of the other officers may also be ungodly, licentious men, and thus I will no longer permit you girls to wander freely in Meryton while the militia regiment is in residence there, nor will you be attending parties with the officers unless I am there to watch over you.”
Lydia and Kitty stared at him in wonder for a moment and then Lydia squealed in outrage and cried out, “You cannot be serious, Father! I still cannot believe Mr. Wickham was truly a bad man; it was probably all Mr. Darcy’s fault that he was stabbed and poor Mr. Wickham killed!
As for the other officers, they are kind, handsome gentlemen.
We must find husbands – Mama says so – and the officers are the best prospects we have seen in many years!
We will see the officers, we will! I do not care what you say! ”
Mr. Bennet took a deep breath and found himself, oddly enough, thinking back to his own boyhood.
At the tender age of eight, he had convinced his father to give him a young foxhound.
The puppy, a female he named Ruby, had grown quickly, and her young owner had found it difficult to train the animal because of her energy and strength.
Even now, so many years later, Mr. Bennet remembered that he had been forced to literally dig in his heels to keep his foxhound from dragging him away.
In the end, he had prevailed in training Ruby, and she became an excellent companion and later mother to several litters of fine pups.
Now, his own youngest daughter was an unruly beast, used to getting her own way because she knew from experience that Mr. Bennet was too indolent to stand against her.
No longer. Not with the memory of Elizabeth’s near disaster a week before. No, he would stand firm and be the father his daughters needed him to be.
He stared down at his youngest, his lips thin with disgust, and metaphorically dug his heels into the ground. “Lydia, go to your bedchamber immediately. You will not speak to me in that disrespectful way.”
Lydia hopped to her feet and took an angry step forward.
She was the tallest of the Bennet daughters, and the top of her head came to his nose.
She was also well built, bordering on plump, and her face was set in peevish fury.
“You cannot tell me what to do! All you ever do is sit in your library and read your books; you have no right to keep us from our pleasures!”
Bennet felt an inclination to slap his youngest, but, restraining himself with some difficulty, he walked back to the drawing room door and called out to the butler, who appeared within seconds.
“Hill, Miss Lydia is in need of some peace and quiet in her room. Call Theodore and Cecil to help me escort her to her bedchamber.”
The resulting scene was not a beautiful one, but Bennet, enflamed as much by anger as determination, helped two of his male servants drag Lydia into her bedchamber, push her onto her bed, retreat, and lock the door behind him.
He then straightened his clothing and marched back down the stairs into the drawing room where Kitty was rooted in place, her eyes wide.
“Do you wish to say anything, Kitty?” he inquired sarcastically.
“No, Father,” Kitty answered meekly.