Loving Lydia

by Leenie Brown

  “I could go after her,” Westonbury offered. “It was my fault. I did provoke her.” Again, he cast a sheepishly apologetic look at Darcy before turning to Lydia. “I must apologize for causing your unease, Miss Lydia. It was not done intentionally.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “Will you forgive me so that Darcy will stop scowling at me?”

  Lydia took the handkerchief from him and began dabbing at her eyes while she glanced back at Darcy, who was indeed scowling at his cousin. She nodded her head. “I should hate to see your face bruised on my account.”

  “You think he would hit me?”

  Again, Lydia nodded. “I did not think he knew how either,” she whispered. “However, I have seen Mr. Wickham and can assure you that Mr. Darcy can hit very effectively.”

  “Is that so?” Westonbury said as he took Lydia’s hand and tucked it in the crook of his elbow before extending his other arm to Kitty. “Do tell.”

  Elizabeth shrugged as she met Darcy’s gaze. “My sisters sometimes argue.”

  “As do mine,” Bingley said. “Think nothing of it. It shall all get sorted out in time. It always does.”

  Elizabeth blew out a breath. “But the sorting out can be arduous,” she said to Darcy who had reached where she stood.

  Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand and prevented her from walking on with Jane and Bingley. “I will speak to my troublesome cousin,” he assured her before lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it. “Hopefully, he will be easily sorted.”

  Chapter 17

  Mary huffed as she stood beside Elizabeth, waiting to be allowed entrance to Netherfield the next day. There had been a long and lengthy discussion between Mary and her father after Lydia had told him what Mary had said on their walk.

  “You are to be polite,” Lydia said.

  “I know,” Mary grumbled.

  “And apologize.”

  Again, Mary huffed. “I know. Stop speaking.”

  “Good day, Mr. Harvey,” Jane said as the door opened. “We are here to see…” She looked at her sisters. “Well, everyone it seems.”

  “Very good, ma’am. If you will follow me.”

  “That lace Mama selected looked very nice on Elizabeth’s wedding dress, did it not?” Jane asked Lydia. She was attempting as always to direct the conversation so that the argument from a few moments ago would be lost.

  “It was lovely,” Lydia agreed.

  “Only two more weeks,” Kitty whispered, “and we shall have to call on you here, Jane.”

  Jane smiled broadly. “It seems so far away and yet so close.”

  When he had asked, their mother had assured Darcy yesterday that she thought all the necessary preparations for a wedding would be completed by the end of the week. There was nothing to be concerned about except whether Colonel Fitzwilliam would be able to attend and if standing for a full service would be too much for Mr. Bennet’s leg. Therefore, a date had finally been decided upon, and Elizabeth knew that Jane was eagerly anticipating becoming the mistress of Netherfield.

  Dash was the first to greet the Bennet ladies when they entered the drawing room, but after a proper greeting, which consisted of a scratched ear, he sat down next to Lydia. Kitty and Georgiana excused themselves to go to the music room. Mary attempted to join them, but Jane, who was rarely stern, grasped her hand firmly.

  “You have something you must do first,” Jane whispered.

  Mary blew out a breath and with flushed cheeks turned to Lord Westonbury. “My lord,” she said and waited for him to acknowledge her, “I have come today with a very particular purpose. I have been made aware of the fact that though what I said to you yesterday was entirely truthful, it was not my place to say it even if no one else seems to wish to speak on the behalf of the less fortunate –”

  Jane cleared her throat.

  “What I am attempting to say,” Mary corrected, “is that my words were out of place and so I would ask your forgiveness for my immoderate behaviour.”

  “My forgiveness is readily given. However, I must also apologize for provoking you to behave so.” He held out his hand to her. “Am I forgiven?”

  “For provoking me.”

  “Nothing else?” Westonbury’s lips curled into a smirk, and Darcy coughed. “Yes, well, that is all for which I have asked forgiveness, is it not?” His hand remained outstretched to her.

  Mary looked at his hand. Then, with a raised brow and a look that did not speak of a willingness to bestow forgiveness, she placed her hand in his.

  He gave it a firm shake and then, lifted it to lips.

  Mary gasped and snatched her hand away. “That is not necessary.”

  “I think it is.”

  “It is my hand, and I think it is not. Therefore, it is not.”

  “But it is what is polite,” Westonbury protested.

  “I am not to argue with you, my lord,” Mary replied.

  “A pity that,” Westonbury muttered.

  “Tea!” Bingley inserted. “I think it would be very good to have tea, do you not, Darcy?”

  “An excellent idea,” Darcy agreed.

  “And Miss Lydia, you may help me pour,” Caroline said happily.

  “Wes,” Darcy called to his cousin, who was still standing with Mary and offering to see her to the music room, “I believe she knows the way.”

  “It seems we are to be kept apart,” Westonbury said with a laugh.

  “It is for the best,” Mary assured him.

  “I am not entirely certain I agree.”

  “Of course, you would not. It is a logical and well-thought-out plan.”

  “I am not incapable of logical thinking.”

  Mary raised a brow and shook her head. “You have yet to prove it, my lord.” Then, she curtseyed and left the room.

  Westonbury flopped into a chair. “You are a dreadful bore, Darcy.”

  Darcy laughed. “Not everyone enjoys an argument as much as you.”

  “I can argue with you if you wish,” Sir Matthew quipped.

  Westonbury sighed. “I think I shall pass.”

  “I am here if you should feel the need to disagree with someone,” Sir Matthew added.

  Lydia followed Caroline out of the room to see that the tea service was being prepared and likely to discuss some other facet of being a proper hostess. It surprised Elizabeth how discreet Caroline was being. There was no announcement of a lesson’s topic nor was there any indication that it was not the most normal thing in all the world for Caroline and Lydia to be heading off together to do something or another.

  Jane took a seat next to Mr. Bingley, and the two began discussing what preparations for their upcoming wedding were being made today while she was away from home.

  “Your mother does not mind that you are leaving so much to her?” Bingley asked.

  “Not at all. We will do our part when we return home. Father was much more eager that we see to Mary,” Jane replied.

  Westonbury shifted uneasily in his chair.

  “Troubles?” Darcy asked him.

  “I had not intended for her to get in trouble,” Westonbury whispered. “Perhaps I should apologize for that?”

  “When she returns,” Darcy replied.

  The conversation then fell into the realm of topics commonly canvased in a drawing room – the weather, the neighbours, and the health of those family members who were ailing, namely Mr. Bennet and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  “Do you think he will see her?” Elizabeth whispered to Darcy. Lydia had eaten little yesterday or today. Between the worry over the damage Mary might have done by being so outspoken to Lord Westonbury and concern about the colonel, she had little appetite and wandered from room to room unable to focus on any task. To be honest, Elizabeth was more than a little anxious about the state of her youngest sister’s mind.

  “We are hopeful,” Darcy replied.

  “It would be excellent if he did.”

  “I agree,” Darcy replied. “One way or the other, a decision must be arrived
at eventually.” He took Elizabeth’s hand in his and simply held it.

  “I will take him some tea,” Westonbury said as the tea service was brought in. “If I cannot argue with Miss Mary, I might as well see if I can persuade my brother to be reasonable.”

  “Do not go to the music room,” Darcy cautioned.

  Westonbury leveled a severe look at him before turning away to gather the tea for himself and Richard.

  “He is…” Elizabeth sought for the right word.

  “Troublesome and used to getting his way,” Darcy finished.

  “Do I need to worry about him?” It was the same question she had asked Darcy after meeting Lord Westonbury for the first time.

  “I would like to say no,” Darcy answered with a sigh, “but, to be honest, I am uncertain. I do not fear for your safety or that of your sisters. However, I do fear for everyone’s sanity at this point. What Miss Mary said to him yesterday seems to have struck a chord with him.”

  “I was shocked to hear what she had said,” Elizabeth replied. “I know she does not approve of places such as Sally’s.”

  “Which is as it should be,” Darcy inserted, and Elizabeth agreed.

  “And I know that she is given to moralizing, but she has always confined her speeches to those she knows well. It is truly not like her to speak as she did to a stranger – most especially, one who is due a certain amount of respect just because of who he is. I have been attempting to deduce the reason, but I have not yet discovered it.”

  “Have you asked her?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Her reply was not helpful.” She attended to the tea she had been served. “Lydia is doing very well.”

  “And Caroline looks excessively pleased,” Darcy added.

  This, of course, led to a discussion about Darcy’s aunt and Lydia’s desire to do well.

  When tea was nearly over, Darcy went to inquire of Richard whether or not he would be amenable to guests.

  Elizabeth sighed with relief when he returned and gave her a smile and a nod before informing Lydia that the colonel would be delighted to have her visit him.

  “Come, my love.”

  Happily, Elizabeth placed her hand in his and together, they went up with Lydia.

  “Wait,” Lydia said as Darcy reached for the doorknob. She blew out a breath. “I do not know if I can do this,” she whispered.

  “Do you not wish to see him?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Oh, very much, but what if he is too greatly altered?”

  “He does not look as he did,” Darcy answered. “His injuries are still fairly recent.”

  She shook her head. “That is not what I meant.”

  “Is it not?” Elizabeth asked. “I know you were worried about that.” Had they not had a discussion about whether or not Lydia could love someone who was not handsome?

  “I will not lie. That is still a small fear, but…” Her eyes filled with tears and she wrapped an arm around her middle. “He did not wish to see me. What if he no longer loves me?”

  Elizabeth wrapped Lydia in her arms. “He will still love you.”

  “How can you say so?”

  “If he did not love you, he would not be so concerned about not being good enough for you,” Darcy replied.

  “But he is!” Lydia said with some force.

  “Then, you must convince him of that,” Darcy replied. “His mind and heart are muddled. His life is not what it was, and it is likely that it never will be what it was.”

  Lydia nodded and dashed away the few tears which had escaped her eyes.

  “Not knowing is far worse than knowing,” Darcy added. “I know.”

  “You do?”

  He nodded. “I thought your sister hated me and would always hate me even though I loved her dearly. That is why I took part in the scheme to see Miss Bingley and Sir Matthew betrothed. I needed to know if I had a chance. Your sister Jane and your aunt seemed to think I did. Thankfully, they were correct.”

  “I am also happy they were,” Lydia agreed with a smile. “You are very nice when one gets to know you. Not at all as you appeared to be when you first arrived at Netherfield.”

  Darcy chuckled. “Thank you, Miss Lydia. I am happy to know I improve upon acquaintance. Now, shall we take on the surly Colonel Fitzwilliam and attempt to convince him that he is not unworthy?”

  Lydia nodded and pulled in a deep breath as Darcy opened the door.

  “Richard,” Darcy said, motioning for Lydia to follow him to the far side of the bed, “I have brought you some guests.”

  Lydia’s hand rested on her heart and tears spilled down her cheek.

  “I look dreadful.”

  “You do,” she agreed, approaching his bed. “Does it hurt horridly?” She took his hand. “I’ll not move your shoulder,” she added. “I understand it is also injured.”

  “It is not as bad as it was,” Richard replied.

  “The room spins, and he can see you best when you are on this side of him,” Darcy added.

  “I wish I could take it away,” Lydia whispered. “How dreadfully boring it must be to lie here and have nothing to do but consider if you hurt more today than yesterday.” She perched on the side of the bed.

  “It is rather dull except when Darcy or Westonbury are here. Did you know that each swag of the flounce around the top of the bed on this side has between four and six folds?”

  Lydia peered up at the material. “You are right!” She then looked at the other side of the bed. “It is the same on the side you cannot see.” She sighed and smiled at him. “I have missed you, and I was so dreadfully afraid you had died.”

  Darcy handed her his handkerchief and then, without a word, he and Elizabeth left the room.

  “And I missed you,” Richard said. He wished to pull her to him and kiss away her tears, but he knew he could not. “I would understand if you did not wish for me to continue –”

  “Do not say it!” Lydia interrupted. “You shall not be rid of me that easily!”

  “But I am not who I was.” She needed to know who she was accepting.

  “Yes, you are. In your heart, you are.”

  Richard grimaced as he lifted her hand to his lips. “You really will accept me as I am?”

  She nodded, and Richard expelled a deep breath that carried with it many of the worries and fears which had settled upon him as soon as he had woken and found his life set on its end.

  Chapter 18

  Richard pushed up from the edge of his bed, where he had been waiting for the world to stop spinning. Since the room seemed to be standing still, it should now be safe to walk the short distance between the bed and the door.

  Slowly, with deliberate steps, he crossed the floor but paused when he reached the door to lean his head against it for a moment to allow the room to still itself once again before opening the door.

  He could not continue to stay in this room as he had for the last several days. He grew weary of seeing the same portion of ceiling and window. He wanted to attempt returning to normal, everyday life. He needed to do so, for how was he ever to be good enough for Lydia if he did not at some point get out of bed and on with his duties.

  He stepped into the hallway, but then, thinking better of it as the hall seemed to waver and he imagined making a spectacle of himself by falling down the stairs, he returned to his room but not to his bed. Instead, he turned the chair near the hearth so that it would face the open door. This way, he could, at least, catch glimpses of life while his blasted head took its sweet time healing.

  With a grimace, he sat down and immediately realized that he had not moved a footstool into position for his feet. That was foolish, for he was not getting up to do it now! He would do without being able to prop up his legs until someone came into the room who would not fall over when bending to move such a piece of furniture.

  “The upstairs maid sees to the cleaning of this hallway and the hearths in each of the rooms.”

  Richard tipped his head. Was that Caroli
ne?

  “There is another maid who sees to the hall and hearths downstairs. Of course, they will perform these duties at times when they will not be seen or will be least intrusive. One does not wish to have her private conversations carried to others.”

  “Would they do that?”

  Was that Lydia? Richard considered getting up and going to the hall to discover what Lydia and Caroline were doing, but his body was protesting not being in bed as it was. He dared not push it further than he already had.

  “Miss Bingley,” he called.

  “Oh, yes, it is often the servants who spread the most damaging news in town. One can never be too careful.”

  “How very odd.”

  He smiled at Lydia’s tone of wonder. “Miss Bingley,” he called again.

  Footsteps drew nearer. And then a face appeared in his doorway. Not just one face, but two. The one he wished most to see was just behind the one to whom he had called.

  “Good day, Miss Bingley, Miss Lydia.”

  “Why are you out of bed?” Lydia demanded. “Has the surgeon said you may be?”

  “I am tired of lying there,” he replied. “And I am only sitting. It is not so great a strain as one might think.” His lips curled into a smile for her.

  The surgeon would be here later to see if his stitches were no longer needed. He would have to remember to gain the man’s approval to be up and about. He did not wish to be scolded each time he attempted to venture from his room.

  “However,” he continued, “before I sat down, I did not bring the footstool near enough, and it would be more comfortable to sit with my feet up.”

  He had not even finished saying what he had to say before Lydia was crossing the room to move the footstool.

  “I was going to ask that someone be sent to see to that,” he told her.

  “I am quite capable of moving a small piece of furniture, and I do not think it is improper to do so.” She turned to Caroline. “Is it? Should I have summoned a servant?”

  Miss Bingley shook her head and smiled. “Moving the footstool is perfectly acceptable. Being in a gentleman’s bedroom is not.”

  Lydia gasped and scurried to the door. “Forgive me. I forgot.”