Chapter XXIII
The following morning arrived bright and warm, though Elizabeth noticed little of either.
Mrs. Gardiner attempted conversation more than once during the drive, but with limited success.
Elizabeth answered when required and even occasionally managed to smile, yet her thoughts remained elsewhere.
Lydia was only minutes away. After everything that had happened – the fear, the uncertainty, the dreadful imaginings of the past weeks – she was finally going to see her sister… and Mr. Darcy.
Mrs. Gardiner announced that they were very near.
Elizabeth felt her heart quicken.
Mrs. Gardiner reached across and briefly squeezed her hand. “She is just a little thinner, but I was told she is quickly regaining her usual form.”
Elizabeth nodded.
Thinner. She cursed Wickham.
The carriage drew to a halt before Darcy’s townhouse.
Elizabeth glanced up at the building as the carriage stopped. It was an elegant house, standing quietly amongst its neighbours, and yet she found herself looking at it with an odd sense of wonder. Somewhere behind those windows, Lydia waited for her, and Mr. Darcy had made it possible.
Before the footman had fully lowered the steps, the front door opened.
Elizabeth’s breath caught.
Miss Darcy descended the steps with an eagerness that immediately banished any concern for formality. “Mrs. Gardiner. Miss Bennet.” She greeted them warmly, then turned at once to Elizabeth. “She has been asking whether you had arrived every quarter of an hour since breakfast.”
The remark was accompanied by such affectionate exasperation that Elizabeth could not help smiling. “Lydia?”
“Who else?” Georgiana laughed. “I finally told her that if she continued watching from the window, she would wear a path into the carpet.”
The ease with which she spoke of Lydia touched Elizabeth more deeply than she could express.
How strange life was. Only a few months ago, she had scarcely known Miss Darcy. Now her youngest sister was living beneath the same roof and being cared for as a friend.
Georgiana’s expression softened. “She is nervous.”
“So am I.”
That confession appeared to relieve Georgiana considerably. “Good. Then perhaps neither of you will feel obliged to pretend otherwise.”
Mrs. Gardiner laughed. “I begin to think, Miss Darcy, that you understand both my nieces remarkably well.”
A faint blush coloured Georgiana’s cheeks. “Perhaps a little.” She offered her arm to Elizabeth. “Come. She is waiting in the morning room. After a few minutes, we will leave you to visit in private. Mrs. Gardiner, I thought I could show you the conservatory.”
Both ladies agreed. Together they entered the house.
The elegance of the interior scarcely registered. Nor did the flowers arranged in the hall, though Mrs. Gardiner noticed them immediately and allowed herself the smallest smile. The arrangement looked suspiciously fresh for a household not ordinarily expecting company.
Neither lady remarked upon it.
“Thank you for helping my sister. It is remarkable that under the circumstances, you even want her here.”
Georgiana stopped and, for a moment, examined her shoes. Then she looked up. “I could not do otherwise. We… we are helping each other.”
Elizabeth looked at the girl next to her. She knew what she spoke of, though she doubted Miss Darcy knew that she knew. Their situation was not the same. Oh, but she was lucky to have a brother like Mr. Darcy! She patted Georgiana’s hand on her arm.
As they crossed towards the morning room, Elizabeth became increasingly aware of the sound of her own heartbeat.
The door stood partially open. Beyond it, she could hear movement. Then a voice. Lydia’s voice.
Elizabeth stopped. For one brief moment, she could not make herself move. Some weeks earlier, she had feared she might never hear that voice again.
Beside her, Georgiana squeezed her arm gently. Elizabeth drew a steadying breath; then, she stepped through the doorway.
She saw nothing except Lydia.
Darcy was standing near the window, but he scarcely registered. Her entire world seemed to narrow to the slight figure rising uncertainly from a chair across the room.
“Lizzy.”
The single word broke something within her.
“Lydia.”
She crossed the room almost before she realised she was moving.
Lydia met her halfway.
The embrace was far from graceful. Lydia threw her arms around her neck, and Elizabeth held her with a desperation that surprised them both.
They did not speak.
Elizabeth could feel her sister trembling. When at last she drew back, she immediately placed her hands upon Lydia’s shoulders as though to assure herself she was truly there. “You foolish, foolish girl.” The words emerged through tears.
Lydia gave a watery laugh, which collapsed almost immediately into sobs. “I know.”
“Oh, Lydia.” Elizabeth pulled her into another embrace. “You frightened us all half to death.”
“I know.”
“We thought…” Her voice broke. She could not bring herself to finish the sentence.
Before her uncle’s letter, she had imagined every possible disaster. She had lain awake wondering whether Lydia was cold, hungry, abandoned, injured… alone.
Now Lydia was here. Alive. Warm. And safe.
Elizabeth drew back again, only to study her more closely.
Mrs. Gardiner had spoken truly. Lydia was thinner.
There were shadows beneath her eyes that had not been there before she left for Brighton, and something else had changed as well.
The careless confidence which had once seemed so inseparable from her youngest sister was gone.
“Lizzy, I am so sorry.”
Elizabeth blinked. She could only stare.
Lydia’s eyes filled again. “I never meant… I did not think… I thought…” Her voice faltered. “I thought he loved me.”
The confession was so simple, so utterly devoid of Lydia’s usual bravado, that it struck Elizabeth harder than any elaborate apology could have done.
“Oh, Lydia.”
“I know everyone must hate me.”
“No.”
“They should.”
“No.” Elizabeth took both her hands firmly. “You have caused us pain, yes. More than I can say. But do not imagine for one moment that we stopped loving you.”
Lydia looked away. “I have ruined everything.” The words were scarcely above a whisper. “I’m aware.”
Elizabeth felt tears rise again. For weeks, she had imagined this meeting. In none of those imaginings had Lydia sounded like this. “Everything… we shall think of that later,” she said softly. “You are my sister.”
Lydia covered her face with one hand. “I wanted Mama to be proud of me.”
The room fell silent.
Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly.
There it was. The foolish dream beneath all the foolish actions. Not wickedness. Not malice. Vanity, youth, and an unfortunate hunger to be admired.
When she opened her eyes again, she became aware of the others.
Georgiana now stood near Mr. Darcy, her own eyes suspiciously bright. Mrs. Gardiner had produced a handkerchief and was making discreet use of it. Even Darcy had turned away slightly towards the window, though Elizabeth suspected he was allowing the sisters a degree of privacy.
She waited for him to turn back. Her gaze met his. No words passed between them, yet she hoped he could read the gratitude she felt. Not merely for finding Lydia, but for this. For giving them this moment.
Something softened in his expression before he inclined his head slightly and looked away.
Mrs. Gardiner, with the tact of a woman who had spent many years managing delicate situations, was the first to move. “I believe,” she said gently, “that Miss Lydia and Miss Bennet may have a great many things to say to one another.”
“Indeed,” Georgiana agreed at once.
Lydia hastily wiped her eyes. “You need not all flee as though I were about to expire.”
A faint smile touched Mrs. Gardiner’s lips. “Then I am relieved to hear your spirits are recovering.”
Georgiana crossed the room and squeezed Lydia’s shoulder affectionately. “We shall be nearby.”
As she passed Elizabeth, she offered her a warm smile before joining Mrs. Gardiner.
Darcy was the last to leave. When he reached the doorway, he paused briefly and glanced back. He smiled at Lydia and nodded to her.
The sight still felt strangely improbable. Lydia, who had once declared Mr. Darcy the most boring man in England, now smiled at him with an ease she reserved for very few people.
Finally, his eyes met Elizabeth’s once more. Again, she wished she could properly thank him. Again, she found no words.
He was gone a moment later, and the door closed quietly behind him.
For several seconds, neither sister spoke. They just looked at each other. Then Lydia let out a long breath and collapsed back into her chair. “Well,” she said, with the first faint trace of her old self returning, “that was dreadful.”
Despite everything, Elizabeth laughed.
At first, Elizabeth was content simply to sit beside her sister and listen.
Lydia spoke of the house, of Miss Darcy’s kindness, of her lessons with Mrs. Annesley, of Mrs. Barnes, of books she and Georgiana were reading together, and even of new dresses.
The very ordinariness of the subjects was almost enough to bring tears to Elizabeth’s eyes.
After weeks of absence, Lydia sounded like Lydia.
At length, however, a question which had occupied Elizabeth ever since arriving could no longer be resisted. “Lydia.”
Her sister looked up.
“How did Mr. Darcy find you?”
The change was immediate. Lydia’s expression altered. It was not alarm and not quite embarrassment; it was something else. She glanced away.
Elizabeth frowned. “Lydia?”
“I am not supposed to talk about that.”
Elizabeth stared. “You are not supposed… What does that mean?”
Lydia shifted uncomfortably. “It means exactly what it sounds like.”
“Who told you not to speak of it?”
Lydia hesitated. “Mr. Darcy.”
That answer only increased Elizabeth’s curiosity. “Mr. Darcy instructed you not to tell me how he found you?”
“Not exactly.” Lydia looked increasingly uncomfortable. “He only said it would be better if I did not discuss certain things.”
“What things?”
Lydia shook her head. “I promised.”
Elizabeth could scarcely believe what she was hearing. “Lydia Bennet, since when do you keep promises so faithfully?”
To her surprise, Lydia did not laugh. Instead, she looked down at her hands. “He was kind to me when he had every reason not to be. If he asked me not to speak of something, I do not wish to disappoint him.”
Elizabeth found herself momentarily speechless. This, perhaps more than anything else she had witnessed that morning, revealed how greatly her time away had altered her sister. “Would it be dangerous if other people knew?” she asked more gently.
“Yes.”
“And you cannot even tell your sisters?”
Lydia bit her lip. “It is better if not. If more people know, it cannot be kept a secret.”
Elizabeth studied her. The refusal was genuine.
Whatever the explanation might be, Lydia had no intention of betraying it.
A curious uneasiness stirred within her. Why should there be any mystery at all? How had Mr. Darcy found her? And why did he wish it concealed?
***
The sisters remained together considerably longer than either had intended. By the time they finally emerged from the morning room, both appeared calmer, though the traces of recent tears had not entirely vanished.
The sound of voices guided them towards the conservatory, where Mrs. Gardiner, Georgiana, and Mrs. Annesley were already seated amongst the flowers and greenery.
Elizabeth scarcely had time to take in the scene before Georgiana rose with evident satisfaction. “There you are at last.”
“We feared we had been forgotten entirely,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
“I am not certain that would have been unreasonable,” Mrs. Annesley observed with a smile.
Lydia immediately noticed the table. “Oh!”
Arranged upon it stood a selection of refreshments, the centrepiece of which was an elaborate cake decorated with delicate sugar flowers.
Lydia stared. “Is that for us?”
“Of course,” said Georgiana.
Lydia looked delighted. “I shall never leave.”
“That may become inconvenient after a while,” Mrs. Gardiner observed.
“Not for me.” Georgiana laughed. “My brother had it specially made for today.” The words escaped with complete innocence.
At that precise moment, Darcy entered the conservatory.
He stopped.
Georgiana froze. Lydia’s eyes widened. Mrs. Gardiner looked suddenly interested in her teacup.
Elizabeth turned.
Darcy’s expression remained perfectly composed, though a faint tightening around his mouth suggested otherwise. “Georgiana.”
His tone carried just enough warning to make his sister blush.
“I merely thought they should know.”
“So I perceive.”
The blush deepened.
Elizabeth looked from one sibling to the other. Then her gaze drifted to the flowers decorating the table, the fresh arrangements throughout the conservatory, and finally back to Darcy himself.
A suspicion began to form. Not certainty, only suspicion. Yet it warmed her unexpectedly.
“Then I think we are very much obliged to Mr. Darcy,” she said. When she smiled, it was not merely polite gratitude.
Mrs. Gardiner lowered her eyes to conceal a smile.
Darcy felt something shift dangerously within his chest. The smile transformed her entire face. If some small attentiveness on her behalf resulted in such a beautiful smile, he was sure to give her more cause for that in the future.
Fortunately, Lydia possessed even less difficulty in expressing how she felt. “I am obliged to him as well,” she announced. “Especially if I am permitted a second slice.”
The resulting laughter rescued everyone – even Darcy.
A short time later, while Lydia and Georgiana were engaged in a spirited disagreement about which scene to use as a dramatic reading after dinner, Darcy crossed quietly to Mrs. Gardiner. “Mrs. Gardiner.”
She looked up. “Mr. Darcy?”
“Would you object if I spoke with Miss Bennet for a few minutes?”
Mrs. Gardiner’s eyes moved briefly towards Elizabeth. Aunt-like comprehension appeared almost instantly. “Not in the slightest.”
Darcy inclined his head.
When Elizabeth looked up, he said quietly, “Miss Bennet, would you walk with me? There is a small garden adjoining the conservatory.”
Elizabeth’s heart gave an alarming leap. “Certainly.”
And together they stepped through the open glass doors into the garden.