Loving Lydia

by Leenie Brown

  Elizabeth lifted Lydia’s chin so that she could see her sister’s eyes. “Do you think you are that sort of woman?”

  Lydia nodded and then shrugged. “I do not know. I have never flirted with anyone who was not handsome.”

  “You have flirted with Mr. Ferrell, and well, he is not particularly handsome. And you are kind to Miss King despite her freckles and plumpness.”

  A small smile tipped up the corner of Lydia’s mouth. “That is true.”

  “If your heart is truly engaged with Colonel Fitzwilliam, you will not find his appearance to be of great significance.” She smiled reassuringly at Lydia. “Of course, we will likely not know that until we have seen the colonel, but I have faith in you, Lydia. You are not the silly little sister you were. You are becoming a fine young woman.”

  “Do you really think so?” Lydia’s eyes were wide with shock.

  “I do. Now, Mama will want to know about the colonel as will Georgiana and Mr. Bingley.”

  “Oh, I cannot bear to face Mama,” Lydia said.

  “Then, I suggest you go tell Papa what you have heard while I tell the others.”

  Lydia stopped half in and half out of the house, holding the door open against her hip. “But you usually tell Papa everything.”

  Elizabeth tugged at Lydia to get her to enter the house. “This time, I think he should hear it from you. Now, scoot. Before Mama comes looking for you.”

  Chapter 13

  “Are you ready for this?” Elizabeth whispered the question to Lydia two days later as they waited for Netherfield’s door to open to them.

  Lydia nodded and smiled, but from the way her sister clung to her arm, Elizabeth was not so certain Lydia was prepared for her first lesson in estate management. How had she never noticed any sort of unease in Lydia before that dreadful night when they found themselves at Sally’s house?

  “You will do well,” Jane encouraged.

  Jane. She was the reason, Elizabeth supposed. Not that Jane was to blame. No. Elizabeth knew it was entirely her own fault that she had not paid closer attention to her youngest sister. She had always relied on Jane to see to what needed care. In that way, Elizabeth imagined herself to be somewhat like Kitty – relying on a favoured sister to guide her. Thankfully, Jane was a sensible sister, Elizabeth thought with a smile just as the door before them opened.

  The three Bennet sisters followed the butler, Mr. Harvey, into the drawing room where Miss Bingley and Mrs. Nicholls, Netherfield’s housekeeper, were waiting for them.

  “I thought it best to begin with a tour,” Caroline said after the pleasantries of greetings were completed. “Jane will, of course, need to see the house, and well,” she smiled at Elizabeth, “it would be rather rude of me to exclude one of my guests.”

  “I can read in the library,” Elizabeth suggested.

  “No, no, I am only jesting. I am nearly over my dislike of you.” Again, Caroline smirked.

  Elizabeth was not certain if that remark was also said in jest or not.

  “I am teasing,” Caroline said. “I am capable of doing so – or, I should say, I am attempting to learn to do so. Sir Matthew insists that I try to be more at ease.” She blew out a breath. “However, I am not certain that teasing puts me at ease.”

  “If one does not like to tease, then one should not feel compelled to do so,” Lydia said. “I am not clever enough to tease as Lizzy does, and so, it feels very awkward. Some of us are just not made for things such as teasing.”

  Caroline’s eyebrows rose and her lips pursed as she considered that thought. “I must say, Miss Lydia, that I believe you are correct. I think I am far too serious a lady to ever be very good at teasing. However, I am quite good at giving opinions while others stumble over a simple ‘It is lovely.’”

  Elizabeth bit the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing as she and Jane followed behind Caroline and Lydia. Miss Bingley was excessively good at sharing her opinion.

  “You saw many of the public rooms when you were here for our ball in November,” Caroline said to Lydia. “And Jane and Miss Elizabeth have seen some of the private quarters as they were guests here for several days. However, we will make a thorough inspection of all the rooms.” She stopped in the corridor just outside the drawing room and turned back toward the door.

  “You will notice that this room is bright and has a good amount of air in it due to its size. These things are important if you are to have a great number of callers at one time, which can happen. I have seen drawing rooms that were nearly overflowing in London, and some of them were not bright or airy, and the need for a nosegay became particularly strong as a result.” She tipped her head and studied the room before her. “Of course, you will have someone to tend to the ashes in the fireplace and others to keep the surfaces of the tables shining as well as someone to see that the fabric and rugs are tidy. There is a door at the far end, do you see it? It is nearly obscured by design.”

  “Oh, yes! It is very cleverly done,” Lydia answered.

  “That is how your servants will most often enter and exit. Well, the junior staff and below, that is. Servants such as Mrs. Nicholls and Mr. Harvey will enter just as we do. There are lines which must not be crossed. Order cannot be retained as it should be if any maid or groom is allowed to come flouncing in however he or she wishes.” She smiled at Jane. “That is my opinion, of course. A mistress of an estate must determine with the agreement of her husband as to how those lines are formed and how firmly they are held. Sir Matthew, I believe, is more forgiving of things than I am, and, therefore, I shall have to learn his ways.” She turned from the room and took Lydia’s arm. “One must always consider the opinion of one’s husband to be the greater opinion.”

  “But what if he is wrong?” Lydia asked.

  “He is not. Ever.”

  “I think it is not impossible for a husband to be wrong,” Sir Matthew said from where he stood on the grand staircase. “However, I try not to be wrong too often.” He bowed his good days to the ladies. “Not every rule which is parroted from matron to daughter must remain as it is. It is my opinion, that a good marriage is a friendship of the greatest kind. The joining of two people to act as one – not to become as the other but to enhance and support the other.” He smiled and shrugged. “My father was a parson. I fear I have picked up some of his ability to wax eloquent on some subjects which interest me. However, I shall attempt to keep my thoughts to a minimum as I should allow you to return to your tour. I was just on my way to the library.”

  “To read?” Lydia asked.

  “Yes,” Sir Matthew replied, his lips twitching ever so slightly.

  “Will you be there long?”

  He nodded. “Most likely, unless something draws me away from my book.”

  “I only ask,” Lydia said very seriously, “so that I will know to be quiet when I enter. My father does not like to be disturbed when he is reading, you see.”

  Sir Matthew gave a small bow of his head. “I thank you in advance for your consideration.” He looked at Caroline. “You are doing an admiral job, my dear.”

  Caroline beamed as she watched him make his way to the library. “I have been blessed.” She sighed but then looked at Jane. “Even if I did not think it a blessing at first, it is.”

  Jane blushed. “We selected him only because we thought he would make you happy,” she said softly.

  “We?”

  Jane nodded. “Mr. Darcy, Aunt Gardiner, your brother, and myself. Aunt Gardiner and I were insistent that whoever was chosen would be the sort of gentleman who we ourselves would find pleasing. It was very fortuitous that Miss Darcy suggested him.”

  Caroline blinked. “Miss Darcy, too?”

  “Yes. We all care about your happiness.” Jane pulled her lip between her teeth. “As well as our own,” she added.

  “I was so dreadful as to have a whole battalion against me?” Caroline shook her head. “I suppose I was,” she admitted. “I did try to compromise my brother to see hi
m married where I wished. The dining room,” she said to Mrs. Nicholls. “It is the second most important room when entertaining guests,” she explained to Lydia as they followed behind Netherfield’s housekeeper. “The drawing room is first.”

  “Because you have callers more often than you have dinners, is that correct?”

  “Precisely. I have a feeling you will be a natural at entertaining, Miss Lydia, as long as you can learn to act with the restraint a lady must always wear.”

  Lydia grimaced. “Ladies are so dull,” she muttered.

  “No, they are not,” Caroline argued. “I have been in several houses where the lady of the house was simply delightful – always seeing that her guests were comfortable and able to converse on a wide range of topics from music to art to furnishings.”

  “And how does one learn such topics?”

  “By listening and reading. Do you paint or sew?”

  “I am absolutely abysmal at painting, but my stitching is the best of all my sisters.”

  “It is true,” Elizabeth inserted. “Lydia knows how to make even the drabbest piece of fabric bright with a few embellishments.”

  Caroline looked quite pleased to hear that, but her pleasure paled to the look of happiness on Lydia’s face. It was not as if Lydia had never been praised for her work before. Their mother was continually going on about how accomplished Lydia was in whatever Lydia did well. However, Elizabeth thought, with a twinge of remorse, if it was not for their mother’s praise, Lydia might not receive any. She knew that she, herself, had been very remiss in bestowing approval on her younger sisters. She had always been at the ready with censure but not with commendation.

  “The dining room is used daily,” Miss Bingley was saying. “The arrangement goes like this…” She led Lydia to the table and began to list who sat where.

  “She would make a great headmistress of a finishing school,” Jane whispered, guiding Elizabeth around the edge of the room.

  “She does seem to know a great deal,” Elizabeth admitted, a feeling of guilt pricking her again. “I did not think she knew much. I have been horribly arrogant.”

  “None of us are without fault,” Jane replied. “I, myself, had not considered how differently Caroline must have viewed our society. We were taught to think for ourselves. Deference is a good quality, but it is not the only quality.” She leaned into Elizabeth’s side more. “I think we have been taught well in that regard.”

  “I would agree.”

  Mr. Harvey had entered, and Jane turned her attention to watch the gentleman set a place as it should be set.

  “He is very exact, is he not?” Jane whispered.

  “As he should be,” Elizabeth replied with a smile. “And he shall be your butler. You are a fortunate creature.”

  As she was speaking, a footman appeared at the door and stood silently waiting until Mr. Harvey had completed his demonstration.

  “If I may interrupt, sir,” the footman said.

  “Yes, Thomas, what is it?” Mr. Harvey moved toward the door.

  “There is a carriage on the drive, sir.”

  “A carriage, you say?”

  The footman nodded. “With a crest and a trunk tied on the back, sir.”

  “It is not Mr. Darcy?”

  “No, sir, the groom who saw it did not recognize either the carriage or the coat of arms.”

  “Well, Mrs. Nicholls,” Mr. Harvey said. “It seems we are to have guests.” He bowed and left the room quickly.

  “Shall I prepare a room before we know who it is?” Mrs. Nicholls asked Caroline.

  “I think it is best if we wait and see what sort of accommodation is needed. A coat of arms requires a great deal of respect, you see,” she added to Lydia.

  “Very well, ma’am. I will wait to hear from Harvey and select according to his information.”

  “That would be excellent. I am certain you will choose best. You always do.” Caroline gave the housekeeper a warm smile before turning back to Lydia. “And we should make our way to the drawing room to receive our caller. Please see that my brother is made aware of his guest.” And with that additional directive for Mrs. Nicholls, Caroline led Jane, Elizabeth, and Lydia back to the drawing room.

  They were just taking their places when the front door opened, and it was not long after that until a gentleman in fine clothing was standing behind Harvey at the entrance to the drawing room.

  “Viscount Westonbury to see you, Miss Bingley,” Harvey intoned.

  The gentleman looked around the room, a furrow forming between his eyes. “I am looking for my brother, Colonel Fitzwill…i…am,” his speech slowed as his eyes landed on Lydia. A slow smile crept across his face.

  Lydia’s eyes could not be wider, and Elizabeth understood why quite perfectly.

  “You? You are the colonel’s brother?” Lydia asked the exact question that was in Elizabeth’s mind.

  Lord Westonbury fumbled in his pocket. “I have a shilling,” he said, holding up the coin. “Or…” he searched his pocket again, “I have a half-crown. I’ve been carrying both ever since our first meeting.”

  Lydia’s mouth dropped open for a moment, but then she snapped it shut.

  The gentleman looked at Caroline expectantly.

  “My lord,” she said with a curtsey, “may I present Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and Miss Lydia Bennet.”

  Lord Westonbury’s head snapped back toward Lydia. “You are Miss Lydia?”

  Lydia lifted her chin. “I am, and it was Elizabeth who was with me when we met you, my lord.”

  He looked at Elizabeth. Something very like worry passed over his features. “Darcy’s betrothed?”

  “Yes,” Lydia answered, arching a brow.

  “Well, then, I suppose I should put my blunt back in my pocket. An angry, injured younger brother is one thing, but a furious Darcy is quite another.”

  “They are not returned yet,” Miss Bingley said.

  “It matters not. I shall keep my money in my pocket.” Lord Westonbury’s eyes roamed from Lydia’s head to her feet and back. “It is a pity, though.”

  Chapter 14

  “Welcome back, sir,” Harvey greeted as Darcy entered the door later that same day. “I trust your journey was as good as can be expected.”

  “It is good to be out of the carriage,” Darcy admitted. It had been a long journey.

  He and Richard had stopped at an inn for one night so that Richard would be able to have a good rest. His cousin had required the assistance of some medication to sleep, however, and had been nearly as reluctant to enter the carriage this morning as he had been at Pemberley the night before they had left there.

  “The colonel will need some assistance.”

  “Of course,” Harvey waved to a footman. “Viscount Westonbury has arrived, sir,” he said to Darcy while he waited for the footman to reach him. “Not more than a half hour ago.”

  “I will inform the colonel,” Darcy said, interrupting Harvey’s instructions to the footman.

  “The Miss Bennets are also here, sir,” Harvey added.

  As he walked back to his coach, Darcy wondered if perhaps he should tell his coachman to drive on for a distance so that Richard could enter the house without so many in attendance. He was just opening the door to the carriage when a furry bundle attacked him.

  “Dash! You really do need to learn how to greet a person calmly,” Darcy scolded as he bent to scratch the dog’s ear. “I have brought the colonel back to you, but you mustn’t jump on him.”

  Dash cocked his head as if he understood and sat patiently at Darcy’s feet while the carriage door was opened. Then, he stood with his tail wagging before returning to sitting when Darcy looked at him.

  “Richard, there is someone here to greet you.”

  Dash barked.

  “Dash?”

  Darcy nodded. “He is sitting just as he should.”

  “Well, will you look at that. And without a biscuit on his nose,” Richard said as
he peeked out of the carriage door.

  “Your brother is also here.”

  “Westonbury?”

  “That is what I was told.”

  “Why is he here?”

  “I was not informed of his reason, but I would assume that it is to see you. I did write to your parents about your injury.”

  Richard sighed. “And they sent him?”

  “That is how it appears.” Darcy paused. “He is not the only one here who might wish to see you.”

  Richard shook his head.

  “You will have to see her eventually,” Darcy spoke softly.

  “Please,” Richard begged as he shook his head again. “I am not ready to see her.”

  “Ah, here is our help.” Darcy ignored his cousin’s plea. There was very little that could be done to avoid Richard’s having to see people.

  “I do not need assistance.”

  Darcy leveled a glare at him. “Just as you did not need help last evening and nearly fell from the carriage to the ground?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do try to be reasonable,” Darcy chided. “I am not about to allow you to fall and risk further injury or see one of your wounds torn open. You will accept the help and do so politely.”

  “I am not a child. You do not need to scold me.”

  “I do if you are going to refuse assistance,” Darcy retorted.

  Dash barked.

  “See. Even Dash agrees.” Darcy added with a smile.

  “He is just eager to see me. He is not agreeing with you.”

  “Then, you should be quick before he gives up his patience and leaps into the carriage.”

  Richard huffed and moved toward the door. He paused and closed his eyes while resting his right hand on the doorframe. He was steadying himself, and Darcy held up a hand to keep the footmen from approaching until Richard once again opened his eyes.

  “I can walk to the house on my own.”

  “Of course, you can,” Darcy agreed. “But I will be at your side if the world should decide to tip and these men will not be far behind. You will, of course, accept assistance on the steps.”