Chapter 9
NINE
“Remember my signal.”
Lydia flashed her newly-minted husband a grin, a gesture which he returned before setting off in Mr Darcy’s direction.
The brooding gentleman stood off in the corner, pretending to look out the window while actually keeping a close watch on Elizabeth.
If Mr Darcy could so much as describe the weather outside, Lydia would eat her bridal bouquet.
Elizabeth, meanwhile, was assisting the housekeeper arrange slices of cake for the small wedding party, and likewise pretending that she was occupied and unaware of Mr Darcy.
She kept miscounting the number of guests—amounting to no more than the Gardiners, their four children, the bride and groom, and herself, plus the children’s nurse—making her act no more credible than Mr Darcy’s.
Once Harold had engaged Mr Darcy’s reluctant attention and begun herding him towards the staircase, Lydia made her move.
She approached the gaggle of Gardiner children, ranging in age from three to eight, who were impatiently awaiting their slices of cake. She beckoned the eldest to her. “Johnny, come here.”
The child, a fair-haired boy who greatly resembled his father, turned to his cousin Lydia with badly concealed impatience. “What is it?”
“How would you—each of you,” she addressed the twins, a pair of six-year-old girls, and the youngest boy, “like an extra slice of cake?”
This got their attention. Their mother did not often allow them sweets, saving them primarily for special occasions such as birthdays, weddings, and holidays, so the temptation of additional cake would necessarily be compelling. They now regarded her with rapt eagerness.
“Really, Cousin Lydia?” squealed Amelia, causing Lydia to shush her.
A glance over her shoulder at Elizabeth, who was still fussing about the refreshments, and Mrs Gardiner, who was deep in consultation with the housekeeper, proved that the child had not given away the plot.
“Yes, but first you must do something for me.”
Abigail, Amelia’s twin, replied, “Anything.”
A few more whispers set the scheme into order. With that settled, Lydia shook hands with each of her little cousins and retreated to the refreshment table for the second stage of her plan.
Making sure to station herself behind Elizabeth, Lydia tapped her on the shoulder, forcing her sister to turn. Elizabeth behaved as expected, and put her back to the room at large. “What is it, Lyddie?”
“I would speak to you.”
“I am listening.”
“No, in private. Come upstairs with me?”
“Now?”
Lydia glanced over Elizabeth’s shoulder just in time to see Harold descend the staircase and give the prearranged signal of pretending to dust off his right shoulder. All was in place, then.
Turning back to Elizabeth, she said, “Yes, now.”
“But I am meant to hand out the coffee?—”
“Do not be so tiresome, Lizzy! I am the bride and you must do as I say.”
With this, Elizabeth’s only remaining objection was a roll of her eyes as Lydia grabbed hold of her wrist and began tugging her along behind her.
As she passed the troupe of little Gardiners, she gave Johnny an exaggerated wink, which caused him to turn and whisper heatedly to the twins.
The lot of them—including three-year-old Lewis, who toddled after his brother and sisters with oblivious enthusiasm—rushed towards the refreshment table to collect their promised extra cake, creating quite the ruckus.
Elizabeth tried to tug out of Lydia’s grip to prevent the impending calamity, but Lydia would not release her. “Mrs Gardiner and Miss Harper have it all in hand. Come along!”
“But—”
Lydia’s determination won the day, and Elizabeth stumbled along in her wake to the top of the stairs, where the open door to Mr Gardiner’s study became visible. Knowing that this was the most delicate part of the plan, the time when it was most likely to go awry, hastened Lydia’s steps.
As soon as she had gained the landing, Lydia chivvied Elizabeth ahead of her, causing her sister to squawk at this rough handling. Lydia ignored her indignation and put all her force behind pushing her towards the study.
“Lydia, what are you—eek!”
She stumbled over the threshold and into the study, where Mr Darcy was quick to catch her before she completely collapsed. Good man.
Grasping the latch, Lydia gave the pair of them a wicked smile and declared, “Now stay in here until you have made up. Ta!”
She pulled the door closed on their gaping countenances, turning the key for good measure. She was just in time, too, for mere seconds after the lock had engaged with a satisfying click the thumping, banging, and muffled demands began.
“Well done, Mrs Stone.”
Lydia turned to find her husband at the top of the staircase observing her with approval. She could not help being warmed by seeing his approbation clearly on display, something she had only rarely achieved from the men in her family. “Why, thank you, Mr Stone.”
He nodded at the door, which was rattling in the frame. “How long do you think it will take them to come to an understanding?”
“Oh, a quarter hour, at least. I suspect they must tire themselves first.”
“Then I suppose we are in for a wait.”