Chapter Seventy-One
When Kitty next went into the room she shared with her sister, she found Lydia huddled under the bedcovers. “Lydia?” she whispered. “Are you asleep?”
At first, there was no response, but then a small sob escaped the huddled form.
“Lydia?” Kitty pulled the covers down and found her sister curled up as tightly as possible, sobbing in almost complete silence. “Lydia!” Kitty lay down beside her sister at once and pulled her close. “What is it?”
“Kitty,” Lydia whispered. “I killed a man!”
“You did,” Kitty agreed. “You are a heroine!”
“But murder is wrong!” Lydia wailed.
“Not always,” Kitty insisted. “Wait, Lydia.” Kitty left the room and dashed downstairs. She found her mother and told her what was amiss. Mrs. Bennet ran up the stairs at once.
“Lydia, my poor girl,” she crooned, holding her youngest close. “Of course you are upset, it was a terrible thing to witness!”
“It was, Mama, it was truly terrible!”
“But you kept a cool head and did exactly what needed to be done! I have never been so proud in all my life!”
“Really?” A white face looked up. “Really, Mama?”
“Really,” she was assured. “It is completely natural to have an emotional reaction, Lydia. You saw something no young girl should have to see, and you were forced to take an action that no young girl should have to take. You did everything exactly right, and that includes the bit of weeping you are doing now. Some regret is everything natural.”
“I was very brave, was I not?” Lydia asked.
“Very, very brave,” Mrs. Bennet said. Then she put a finger to her lips. “No one but us can ever know, but we will never forget. Lydia the Bold!”
A smile ghosted across Lydia’s tear-stained face. “Lydia the Bold,” she whispered. “Yes, I like that very well indeed.”
Word of Lydia’s distress spread quickly amongst the sisters. Elizabeth ran up to Lydia’s room and told the whole story again, but made it a fairy tale about an endangered princess and a bold country girl, who was rewarded by riches untold.
Jane designed a cushion with the words “Lydia the Bold,’ and began work on it at once.
Georgiana went to Lydia’s bedside and whispered, again and again, that she owed Lydia her very life, and that she would never forget it.
Mr. Bennet made it a point to sit beside Lydia at dinner and tell her that he planned to write to Whitehall at once, telling them that Lydia Bennet should be put in charge of the entire Army as soon as may be.
She began to laugh, gleefully, and soon the two of them were laughing together, more at ease with one another than ever before.
Mrs. Bennet joined in the laughter; her eyes met Mr. Bennet’s more than once, and the two of them smiled at one another.
Privately, Mr. Bennet recalled that he had always thought Lydia extraordinarily silly, He acknowledged to himself that he had never really taken the time to understand his youngest girl. The disappointment of her not being male had coloured his relationship with her since her birth.
“Oh! Heavens, I forgot to tell you!” Mr. Bennet suddenly sat up straight.
“What is it, Papa?” Lydia asked.
“Kitty, Lydia, the entail is ended!”
“What?” they chorused. Kitty dropped her fork and Lydia could only stare at her father.
He explained, and so the meal ended with a good deal of cheering and happy plans for the future.