Loving Lydia

by Leenie Brown

  “And what has wrought this change?” she said as he lowered his head for a lingering kiss.

  “Well,” he said, “it began when you stole my heart.” He kissed her again. “And over time and through challenges.” Another kiss. “I learned to see beyond myself.” One more kiss, this one on her nose. “However, I do believe that next to my great love for you, I would have to credit Dash for a great deal of it.” He lowered his lips to hers. There was nothing in this world that he would not endure to be here with her, breathing in the lavender fragrance she wore, tasting the sweetness of her kisses, and reveling in her touch as she wound her arms around his neck.

  Chapter 21

  Two weeks passed quickly. Much more quickly than Darcy had expected they would. Lady Matlock’s presence, as well as that of her husband on two separate occasions, had added a liveliness to life at Netherfield that had propelled time forward at a rapid pace. The drawing room had been filled with chatter and card games. Georgiana had been called upon to play more than once. Quietness was not something which Lady Matlock sought. She was, in fact, a rather restless soul much like her eldest son. However, the busyness and noise which filled Netherfield did not bother Darcy as it once might have. Indeed, if he were to be honest, he had missed such things since leaving town and found them to be a bit of a solace.

  Darcy chuckled as he thought about these things while descending the stairs at Netherfield on his way to enter his carriage, which was waiting to take him to the church. He had learned a great deal from the Bennets about what it was to be part of a loving, though somewhat chaotic, family.

  “You are looking handsome, as always,” Lady Matlock greeted Darcy. She motioned for him to stand in front of her so that she could straighten his jacket, though it did not need it.

  “Your mother would be pleased to see you so happy.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “Your father, too, but I think a son’s wedding day is more a time for mothers to be nostalgic than it is for fathers.”

  “I should think you are correct,” Darcy replied. “I know I have thought more of my mother in the last week than my father, though both have been close to mind.” He was sorry that neither of them would ever know Elizabeth and her family.

  “You are not alone. My husband has mentioned his sister and your father both times when he was here.” She looked around Darcy and up the stairs. “Is Georgiana travelling with you?”

  “No, she will travel with Richard and Westonbury.” The seat next to him was reserved for Elizabeth.

  “Good, then you will have a place for me.”

  “But –” Darcy began to protest that he was not going to share his carriage with her after the ceremony was over, but she held up a hand to stop him.

  “Your uncle will see me to the wedding breakfast. I will not come between you and your bride.” She gave him a wink and a smirk that was so very reminiscent of her eldest son that Darcy could not help but chuckle.

  “Very well, as long as I shall be alone with Elizabeth after we have said our vows, I will allow you to accompany me to the church.”

  “Such a good boy.” She gave his cheek a pat. “If only my boys were so well behaved.” Again, she winked and smirked.

  Darcy knew that while there were most certainly times when she wished her sons were as reserved as he was, his aunt would not wish them to always be so. She could be as troublesome as either Richard or Westonbury.

  Her smirk faded from her lips but not her eyes as she gave him an expectant look. Obediently, he extended his arm to her and led her from the house.

  “I have not yet gotten to do this with either of my boys,” she said as they descended Netherfield’s steps. “But,” she added as they approached the carriage, “it seems I will sooner rather than later.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Darcy was almost certain he understood his aunt’s meaning. She had been very attentive to Lydia and had not had a critical thing to say. Whether she was simply keeping criticism to herself or truly approved was the true question, and frankly, it was one he had hoped to ask of her before he departed Netherfield later today.

  The need to see that Lydia was well would not leave him, even if he had given over that responsibility to Richard for the past two weeks. It was only natural, he supposed since, as of today, Lydia would be his sister, and, as such, he would never truly stop worrying about her wellbeing.

  “Richard spoke to his father last night,” Lady Matlock said as she entered the carriage.

  “Did he?” Darcy feigned surprise.

  She turned and leveled a look of disbelief at him. “As if you do not know.”

  Darcy smiled. “I may have heard something about it.”

  “I am sure you heard all about it,” she retorted. “As you know, your uncle has given his blessing to Richard, and so I suspect in a year or perhaps sooner, I will get to take this ride with him.” She settled into her seat. “There is no rush, however. Richard must heal and find his footing in a new life, and Miss Lydia is young.”

  Darcy could not have asked for a better opening to present his case for Lydia if one should be needed. He would fight for both her and Richard. His cousin was making remarkable progress since he had agreed to see Lydia. His mood had lifted, and his determination had resurged. Unfortunately, his eyesight had not cleared even though he was no longer as dizzy as he had been.

  “Are you pleased about the match?”

  His aunt drew a breath and expelled it before pursing her lips and looking out the window. “Truthfully, she is not what I expected.” She shrugged. “But then, every well-dowered accomplished debutante I have paraded before him has only ever elicited a bored pleasantness from him. Miss Lydia is not boring.” She smiled as if truly delighted by that fact.

  “No, she is not that,” Darcy agreed.

  “She is full of vitality and stubbornness.” His aunt chuckled. She was obviously quite pleased with the lady whom her youngest son had selected as his future wife. “I suspect I always knew he would need someone different from what the best finishing schools produce. He is a lot like his father.”

  “He is, and you are not a standard issue ton-approved lady.” That was how his uncle had always described his aunt when talking about what it was which had captured his interest when he had met his wife.

  “No, I am not.” She smiled. “Standard is boring.” Again, she shrugged. “However, it is occasionally preferable to be boring. It draws fewer arrows.” She had not been a part of the ton when she had met her husband.

  “I believe Miss Lydia can withstand a few arrows,” Darcy said. She had survived Richard’s injury and seemingly had managed to win over Richard’s mother, which was no small task.

  Again, his aunt chuckled. “I do not doubt it, and much like his father did for me, Richard will protect her where he can.” She sighed. “I was so curious to meet her after Lady Catherine told us about her, so it was a relief to have her here to greet me when I arrived two weeks ago.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Lady Catherine had spoken of Lydia? Why had Wes not said so?

  His aunt looked at him in confusion.

  “Wes said he learned about Miss Lydia from Mrs. Salter and not Aunt Catherine,” Darcy explained.

  Lady Matlock’s eyebrows flew upward. “What does that woman know of Miss Lydia?”

  “You know Mrs. Salter?”

  Darcy pressed his lips together to keep from laughing at his aunt’s unladylike description of the woman while replying in the affirmative that she did indeed know Mrs. Salter.

  “Mrs. Salter was disappointed in her quest to snare Mr. Bennet when she was young. Lost him to a lady from trade.”

  Lady Matlock leaned forward. “Do tell.”

  “I cannot tell you the whole story. It is not mine to share. However, according to Wes, Mrs. Salter had heard that Richard and Miss Lydia had been seen out walking and had thought it would be an excellent thing if she could do one better than Mrs. Bennet and attach her daughter to Wes.”

 
; His aunt’s eyes grew wide. “Not while I live,” she snarled. “That woman is an annoyance. I will not have her be a part of this family.” Her smile was a bit calculating.

  Darcy was curious as to what made his aunt dislike Mrs. Salter so vehemently but having heard as many stories as he had about the woman, he was not surprised that she was not well-liked.

  “Do you know she had the audacity to proclaim that no second son would be a first choice for her daughter?” his aunt said. Her look of contempt from the first mention of Mrs. Salter’s name had not faded one bit.

  “Where did she do this?”

  “Oh, some musicale,” she said with a wave of her hand. “It might have been at the Johnsons’, although I am not entirely certain. Not that it matters where. It was one of those times when I was attempting to force Richard to meet several young ladies. I had not met Mrs. Salter before that evening. Well,” she arched her left eyebrow and pursed her lips to emphasize the vileness of what she was about to share, “I was speaking to someone else when the mother of one of the young ladies I had introduced to Richard was talking to Mrs. Salter about her excitement at her daughter meeting the son of Lord Matlock.” Lady Matlock lifted her chin. “As any sensible mother should be. Being tied to Lord Matlock is no small thing – even if it is through his second son and not his first.” Her eyes narrowed. “As if one is better than the other. Oh, I know one has a title and will have a fortune, but Richard is not a prize to be snubbed.”

  Darcy smiled. His aunt had always loved her children fiercely.

  “Well, any woman who can dismiss my son, is not worth my time or notice!” Her lips curled into a calculating smirk. “I think I shall have to invite Miss Lydia to see the town with me when she visits. Would that not just put a bee in Mrs. Salter’s bonnet.”

  “Indeed, it would,” Darcy agreed. “But back to Aunt Catherine. You said she told you about Miss Lydia?”

  Lady Matlock nodded. “She felt it her duty to tell your uncle and me about the fiery young lady she had met at Netherfield who claimed to be loved by Richard.” She blew out a breath. “We were shocked at first, of course, since we had heard nothing about Miss Lydia or any attachment Richard had formed. And to be honest, we had always thought he would marry an heiress to prop up his inheritance a shade or two. It was what he had always claimed he would do, you know. However, after Lady Catherine cautioned us that no disparagement of the young woman would be allowed by you, I knew this Miss Lydia must be a quality young lady.”

  It was gratifying that Lady Catherine had taken his words to heart. He was not anxious to create a breach in the family, but he would have, had she not heeded his warning. “She is my sister – or will be soon. How could I do otherwise?”

  His aunt shook her head. “If Miss Lydia had been a poor choice for Richard to be making, you would have attempted to sway him. You have always watched out for him. It is just part of your nature to do so. That things had progressed enough for Miss Lydia to know that Richard loved her proved that you more than tolerated her. You approved.”

  “I was not certain I would at first,” Darcy admitted. “It was Richard who saw the potential in her from their first meeting when she asked him if he was married.”

  “She did not!”

  “Oh, she did. She also asked if Georgiana had any beaus.”

  “Miss Lydia? I find that hard to believe.”

  “That is because she has improved, just as Richard set out to help her do before his heart became entangled — or perhaps it was as it became entangled. The Bennet ladies seem to have a power to charm a fellow rather quickly.”

  “They are charming, even Miss Mary when she is scowling at Reginald,” his aunt said with a chuckle. “There mother is… well, she is loving despite her deficits.” Her brows flicked up quickly in amusement.

  “She is,” Darcy agreed. Mrs. Bennet was still not an excessively intelligent woman. She was still given to rattling on in conversations and taking the longest route around a point while sometimes missing the point altogether. However, Darcy found he did not fault her for those things as he once did. “I am pleased she will be my mother-in-law.” And he meant it.

  “She will treat you well.”

  “I have no doubt of that.” He moved toward the door as it was opened.

  “I cannot believe you are finally getting married,” his aunt said as she allowed him to help her out of the carriage.

  “I am a bit in shock over that as well,” Darcy replied with a chuckle.

  Darcy’s wedding day had been a long time in coming, and for a long, bleak time, it had appeared that such happiness as he now felt would never be his. However, as he stood here before the church ready to claim his bride, those days of sorrow seemed to fade nearly into nonexistence. It was almost as if they had been but a fitful night of sleep, disturbed by countless bad dreams.

  While Darcy’s journey to his wedding day had been a long one, the ceremony was, as it always is, over in what seemed like a moment, and the journey between Netherfield and the church? Well, when one was agreeably engaged in kissing and holding his wife rather than talking to his aunt, a few miles seemed more like a few feet, and the journey was rather disappointingly over far sooner than Darcy wished for it to be.

  Chapter 22

  “Your mother and Caroline have outdone themselves,” Darcy said as he entered the ballroom at Netherfield, which had been laid out for a lavish wedding breakfast.

  There were flowers lining the center of the tables, weaving in and around platters and bowls. Glasses sparkled as they stood alongside fine china and well-polished silver. There were even ribbons tied to the chairs intended for the guests of honour.

  “And Lydia. We must not forget Lydia. She has been helping Caroline,” Elizabeth reminded him.

  “Was this during Richard’s required rest period?” Darcy still found it humorous that his cousin – a well-respected colonel in his majesty’s armed forces, who was used to giving commands and having them immediately obeyed on pain of punishment, was so easily talked into spending an hour of his time alone in his room by a flutter of lashes and a pretty pout on a determined young lady.

  Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, it was while the colonel was resting. I heard about each day’s progress every night at dinner.”

  Elizabeth glanced toward where Richard was already seated at the end of the head table, near a door through which he could make a hasty exit if needed. Lydia had insisted upon him sitting there. She was not about to allow him to become overwhelmed where one and all would notice. “They make such a good pair, do they not?”

  Darcy could not agree more. His cousin was happy — utterly happy despite his injuries — and that happiness was due almost entirely to the young lady whispering something to him right at this moment.

  “Then, you are no longer fearful that such a relationship will end in tragedy as you once were?”

  Elizabeth sighed. “There are some things which you should likely not remember.”

  “Such as any time you were wrong?” he teased.

  “Yes,” Elizbeth replied quickly, “but that should not be hard to do since I am so very nearly always right.” She looked up at him and favoured him with an impertinent grin as he stood behind her chair while she took her seat at the table near the front of the room.

  Leaning down, he kissed her. How could he not when she looked so charming, especially now that she was his wife?

  “Mr. Darcy, how improper!” Jane was just taking her place next to her sister.

  “But an excellent idea,” Bingley said, placing a kiss on Jane’s cheek since she was looking at Elizabeth.

  “Shall we cause a scandal?” Jane said, turning toward her new husband.

  “It would not be the first,” he replied before kissing her properly.

  “Such changes!” Elizabeth cried. “Who would have thought that Mr. Darcy and my best-behaved sister would become such wanton individuals?”

  “What about me?” Bingley said when their laughter
had died some. “Are you not shocked by my behaviour?”

  “No.”

  “No? I am wounded.” He placed a hand on his heart.

  Elizabeth leaned forward and looked around her sister to Bingley. “You are not as reserved as they are. However, I must say I was shocked to hear you had cut ties with your sister. Shocked and excessively pleased. Jane is worth a bit of trouble.”

  “I could not agree more,” Bingley said.

  “And her sister is worth even more trouble.” Darcy wrapped an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder and squeezed her tightly to his side.

  “The things you have endured,” Elizabeth teased.

  From lending a hand in staging a compromise to hosting her family at his house to mingling with them and their friends and neighbors here in Hertfordshire, there had been much which could have been a step too far from comfort had the prize been anything less than the lady sitting beside Darcy. However, only one of them had proven excessively difficult to endure.

  “Not a one was too much except for that one night when you were missing.”

  But then, that one thing — Darcy’s fear of losing her, even when it was simply a fear of never gaining her approval, and therefore, living in misery without her — had been the impetus to all that had happened in the past few months.

  Mr. Bennet stood and tapped his glass with his knife, drawing everyone’s attention and causing a hush to fall over the room.

  “It is with pleasure,” he began, “that I welcome two sons to my family today. Please, join me on this happy occasion in raising a glass to the happiness, health, and –”

  “Prosperity,” Mrs. Bennet inserted, causing a titter of laughter to spread around the room.

  “Yes, prosperity,” Mr. Bennet agreed. “May my daughters and their husbands prosper in love as they grow older and may their homes always be filled with as much love and laughter as mine has always been.” He lifted his glass. “To the Darcys and Bingleys!”