by Massey, Beth
Elizabeth decided on a chatty letter about Lydia’s trip to Brighton for Georgiana. She made no reference to Mr Wickham. Bethany and Lewis should receive identical notes thanking them for their pictures, and telling them they were missed. The actual ache and longing she felt without them would be omitted. Kitty was pleased to make the required drawings to include with the correspondence. Her message to Will was folded and sealed inside the pages for Georgiana, Bethany and Lewis.
Dearest Will,
I know that feeling of dying a little inside. The anxiety I feel at being separated from you, Bethany, Lewis and Georgiana is a truly diabolical form of torture. The knowledge that I am the designer of the torture does not make it any less painful. Unfortunately, I am not ready to confront my misgivings just yet. Please do know that I think about your words of assurance often.
It is my hope this reaches you in London before you leave for Pemberley. Please write to me all the details of your midsummer picnic. I pray there are no episodes of public nakedness this year.
My sister Lydia will meet Colonel Fitzwilliam next week. She is going to Brighton for a month to help Mrs Forster, and be a companion to Maria Lucas and Colonel Bledsoe’s sister, Sarah. Lydia is in a flutter of anticipation. This is her first time away from home by herself. I am happy for her, but I must have a talk with her about trusting new acquaintances. I know she seems very forward, and is much too loud and boisterous, but she is so much less naive than I was when I went to London. I will tell her to trust Richard with any concerns she has about any of the officers whose acquaintance she makes.
I believe it is a good sign that I think about being in your arms almost constantly. Have I ever told you how delightful you smell?
See you in September, my love.
Elizabeth
Elizabeth went to Lydia’s bedroom the night before she was to leave for Brighton. “Lydia, I want you to know, I hope you have the most wonderful time in Brighton. I will think of you often with envy. Sea bathing must be a truly marvellous experience, and I have even heard it is good for your health.”
“Oh, Lizzy, I am going to have such a delightful time, I just know it. Besides sea bathing, there will be assemblies, fireworks and oh, so many officers.”
Elizabeth smiled at her sister’s enthusiasm. “Yes, I understand you are to meet Colonel Fitzwilliam and Colonel Bledsoe. I met Colonel Fitzwilliam in Kent, and he is a most agreeable gentleman. I am certain Colonel Bledsoe will be equally as pleasant an acquaintance. I understand the three colonels have been best friends for more than ten years.”
“Oh yes I am on pins just thinking about making their acquaintance. Colonel Forster says that both love to laugh and enjoy telling stories of their adventures. Did you know Colonel Fitzwilliam was in Spain?”
“I did know and heard some marvellous stories of his adventures. Lydia, do not tell Papa, but I am going to give you a note to give to Colonel Fitzwilliam. I want him to know you are my sister, so he will watch out for you, just in case you need a protector.”
“Oh Lizzy, do not be silly. What could happen with all those officers around to protect me?”
“I know, Lydia, I am just being a nonsensical, overprotective, big sister, but please humour me. I have something I want you to take with you.” Lizzy had brought the silver dagger wrapped in a beautiful paisley shawl she had bought in London that Lydia had admired several times since she arrived home. She unwrapped the knife and handed it to her sister.
Lydia got a look of wide-eyed apprehension at the weapon and asked, “Lizzy, who do you think I am going to encounter in Brighton… French spies?” She picked up the knife and admired the filigree handle. “This is beautiful, but it is also very sharp. It could be quite deadly to an attacker. Where did you get it?”
“Aunt Gardiner’s father got it for me for protection during the journey from Derbyshire home.” Lizzy waited for Lydia to digest that bit of information before she forged ahead. “I have one other piece of advice for your protection. A kick to a man in the region between his legs will be extremely painful.” Lizzy demonstrated the exact spot and then continued, “I know you will meet only delightful people in Brighton, but I still think it prudent to have some protection when you go out in the world. Keep the knife in your reticule at all times. My note to Colonel Fitzwilliam will ask him to instruct you how to use the dagger.”
“Lizzy, you are the best and wisest sister a girl could ever have. May I take the shawl as well? You know it will probably get chilly at night.” Lydia grinned at her older sister.
With a giggle, Elizabeth answered. “Of course, Lydia, you may take the shawl. I would not want you catching cold.” The sisters hugged, and Lizzy left to pen the note to Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
3 May 1812
Dear Colonel Fitzwilliam
This note is an introduction to my youngest sister, Lydia. She is but fifteen, but as I am sure you can see, she looks much older. She is quite forward, and I think if you observe her closely, you might see some similarities in her personality to Bethany’s. They both have the bad habit of not waiting for proper introductions. However, she is quite level headed, and saw through Wickham, minutes after meeting him. My request is twofold. First, watch out for her. Nothing like what was required to protect Jane, but just observe what the three young women are doing. I want her to have fun… is not that what young girls want? My second request is that I gave her a knife for protection, and I have told her I will ask you to teach her how to use it.
I hope you enjoy your reunion with your comrades in arms. The three of you should be prepared to regale these impressionable young women, who will be in your company with tales of your many adventures. Lydia will definitely love your stories. Someone should write a novel about the adventures of three gallant men in the service of their king. I think it could be quite entertaining.
Thank you, for all the many kindnesses you have shown my family.
Elizabeth Bennet
Lydia, Maria and Sarah did indeed have fun and the three colonels told the most marvellous stories of Denmark, Portugal, Spain, and Colonel Bledsoe had even been to the Caribbean and the Americas. Lydia thought Colonel Bledsoe was the most pleasing man of all those she had ever met. He loved to dance, he was forever laughing, and to Lydia he told the best stories of the three. He had an abundance of hair that was exactly the same glossy dark brown colour as hers. A strong and muscular body and eyes like nuggets of coal added greatly to his appeal. Lydia did not think she had ever met anyone with eyes so dark and piercing or an officer who did such justice to the cut of his uniform. Within a week of meeting him, she was sure she was in love.
He and Colonel Fitzwilliam had taught her how to use Lizzy’s knife. Their main advice was to be bold if she was forced to strike. They said her height was an advantage, and complimented her on her strength and lack of timidity. Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled when he told her how her natural forwardness was advantageous in this situation. They pointed out the spot on the attacker’s left side where she could avoid the rib cage and get through with an upward thrust right into his heart.
Colonel Bledsoe’s sister, Sarah, who preferred to be called, Sally, turned fifteen the first week they were in Brighton, but to Lydia, she still looked twelve. She had absolutely no bosom, and no hips. Sally quickly became infatuated with the handsome and charming Lieutenant Wickham. No matter how many times Lydia told her he would never be interested in her because she had no money, she refused to listen. She even had the nerve to accuse Lydia of jealousy, because he paid much more attention to her than any of the others. Lydia noticed that Colonel Fitzwilliam watched Wickham like a hawk, and Wickham often left the room when he was present. Colonel Fitzwilliam must have said something to his friend Colonel Bledsoe, because the next day, Sarah complained that her brother told her she could no longer talk to Wickham.
Sally also had a bad habit of wandering off when they were out exploring the beach or the town. Lydia felt a special
responsibility for her because she so admired Colonel Bledsoe. It was important he think of her as responsible and mature. Three weeks after they arrived in Brighton, the young women were visiting shops. Maria and her best friend were looking at ribbons in one shop, when Lydia noticed that Sally had disappeared—once again.
She and Maria left the shop to see if they could see which direction their friend had gone. Up ahead, Lydia saw Sally walking with Wickham. The two young women followed as quickly as they could, and observed their friend talking animatedly to the handsome lieutenant. Before they could catch up with the pair, they turned into the yard of a house and went inside. Suddenly fear for Sally spurred Lydia forward. She had heard many times from Lizzy to never agree to be alone with anyone, even women, whose character was not fully determined. The realization they needed reinforcements became uppermost in her mind. She sent her friend back to fetch her brother-in-law and the two other colonels and urged her to memorize the directions to bring them to this house. With a look that she hoped was the right combination of urgent need but without any trace of the panic she was feeling, she told Maria to make haste.
Lydia was petrified, and her knees felt like they might give way. Still, she felt duty-bound to save Colonel Bledsoe’s sister. With trembling hands, she approached the door and knocked. There was no answer, and she willed herself to knock louder and shout for those inside to open the door. Finally Wickham did, and she shot past him. Once inside, she whirled around and said very loudly, “Where is Miss Bledsoe?”
Wickham smirked at her. “She is fine. You do not need to worry your pretty little head about your girlish friend. I brought her here to make the acquaintance of a fine gentleman. He is a viscount, and will one day be an earl. He observed her on the beach and admired her. I agreed to bring her to him for an introduction.” He walked toward her with a suggestive look. “I am sure by now they are very pleasantly engaged upstairs. Perhaps we could enjoy ourselves down here while we wait for them to finish.”
Lydia drew the knife out of her reticule and brandished it before Wickham. “Do not come near me. I know how to use this.” At that moment she heard Sally emit a blood-curdling scream. The sound, which came from the floor above, was the most gruesome thing she thought she had ever heard. She prayed the three colonels would arrive quickly. Bounding up the stairs, leading with her knife; she frantically searched all the rooms along the second story corridor. Finally, the last door she opened, revealed Sally with her bodice ripped, cowering in a corner. Lydia saw the man in the room out of the corner of her eye. He seemed to be taking the measure of her and her knife. Lydia took off Lizzy’s shawl and handed it to Sally. “Cover yourself and run down the stairs. If Wickham tries to stop you, tell him you will kick him here between his legs.” She pointed to the juncture between her two limbs. “My sister Elizabeth says it will be very painful and disable him for some time. Maria has gone to bring your brother and Colonel Forster and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Run, Sally, make haste, I will deal with this disgusting piece of trash.”
Lydia turned to the man in the room, and kept the knife before him at the height of his stomach.
The man smiled at her, smug in the knowledge that no one would ever punish a viscount for attacking young Sally. He would tell the authorities she agreed to come to him for some pleasure. Wickham would back him up. It was a complication to have his brother in the picture, but he was the second son and not the heir to Elderton.
Lydia noticed the man was well dressed and quite handsome. He looked something like Mr Darcy, except his nose was crooked.
He began to talk, and she noticed one of his front teeth was broken. She continued to hold him off with the knife.
“And who might you be… young Sally’s mother? Who told you about hurting a man in that place? I imagine you are quite experienced; and one of your many lovers told you the secret.”
Lydia knew he was baiting her, and trying to confuse her. She resolved to keep her wits about her, and decided to do some disconcerting herself to this arrogant, hateful man. “I was told about hurting a man there by a very wise sister. She is also the one who sent me to Brighton with this knife.”
“Oh please, do tell me what this extraordinary sister’s name is. You did not say whether your wise sister was older or younger. I only like women very young… like your friend Sally. If your sister is young, I might enjoy enjoying her.”
“My sister’s name is Elizabeth Bennet, and she is five years older than I am. She is not only wise, but utterly fearless.”
Lydia saw two things in this stranger’s face. He continued to smirk at her, but she also saw something else in his eyes. Could it be fear?
“Oh, so you are one of the five Bennet sisters. What a troublesome lot of women you all are.” He observed the confusion in Lydia’s eyes, and to his misfortune, the braggart in him could not be repressed. “I have already had your wise, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She was not so fearless when I had her six years ago, and gave her a bastard. She was so frightened for you and your sisters that, unlike your friend Sally, she undressed herself.”
Afterwards, Lydia could not describe to Colonel Fitzwilliam what happened. The best answer she could provide was that she snapped. She remembered Lizzy’s fear of being touched, which caused her to deny herself the pleasure of going to assemblies and balls. She remembered the joy that had always danced in her sister’s eyes, only to be replaced by an ever present hint of sadness when she returned to Longbourn. Lydia remembered how much she loved Lizzy. He had said she acquiesced because she was worried about her sisters, and there was suddenly a powerful awareness of how much Lizzy loved her. With thoughts of Lizzy’s sacrifice for them all swirling in her brain, Lydia plunged the knife with tremendous force into the spot where she had been taught, and in the next instant pulled it out. She stood there in a daze, holding the bloody knife and staring at the Viscount. He looked startled and tried to speak. Soon there was a gurgle in his throat, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth as he collapsed on the floor.
54 IN WHAT FURNACE WAS THY BRAIN?
Richard Fitzwilliam saw his brother, eyes fixed and staring, lying on the floor. Blood was everywhere… on his clothes, on the floor and on the silver weapon held away from his attacker’s body—in instinctual anticipation of the need for another thrust. As if a sign from heaven, it was everywhere but on the yellow frock worn by a very confused Miss Lydia. The dazed look she gave him contained no recognition, but it was obvious her frozen defensive posture was from a previous encounter and not for him. His presence propelled her eyes to settle on the dripping dagger. She readily relinquished the offending object. He gently pushed her toward a chair and forced her to sit.
The physical remains of violence were things he had seen many times during his military career. Still a feeling of confusion threatened to overwhelm. How had he—did he mean Edmund or himself—come to this? He was now holding the knife as though it were an unfathomable thing. The filigree work made it a thing of beauty, but it obviously was an effective deterrent. What should he do with it? Most importantly, what should he do with the young woman who had ‘deterred’ the Viscount Wolfbridge—his parents’ first born?
Richard became aware that an idea was insisting he allow it to enter his consciousness. Finally it succeeded in penetrating through the alarming absurdity that had arrested his usual methodical thought process. There were many of his dearest friends, family and loved ones, whose happiness depended on what he did next. A dresser with a washbowl and pitcher… and a towel registered. He wrapped the knife in the towel and washed his hands. He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to put together a plan.
Instead, as he stared at his brother’s startled gaze, his thoughts drifted to the past. They had not always been at odds. Richard had embraced Edmund as his heroic leader through their early childhood adventures. There was a time they had been as close as Bethany and Lewis. The cleavage came when Richard was about nine and the heir to Elderton was eleven.
His mind’
s use of the word cleavage triggered a flash of memory. It was from that same summer the distance with his brother had begun. Disjointed sensory impressions flooded his mind. He could hear his mother’s voice discussing the oddity of the word cleave, smell his aunt’s lavender scent layered on top of the aroma of the abundance of flowers in the solarium, feel the coolness of the tile as he sat cross legged on the floor, see Darcy’s inquisitive look and Edmund’s bored one, and taste the almond cake they were enjoying. Why this remembrance was etched so firmly was a mystery, much like why the word itself meant both to split apart and stick together.
That summer, the impetus for the shift came when he and Fitzwilliam caught Edmund with a foxhound pup tied to a tree in the woods behind the house. He had started a fire, and had several staves partially in the flames. As they spied on him from behind some bushes, he methodically took one out of the fire, blew on the ember at its tip and touched the burning end to the dog. The pup howled in pain. In disgust and without thinking, Richard had rushed toward his brother and wrestled the stick from his hands while Darcy untied and picked up the dog. They never spoke of what had happened… perhaps they should have, but from that moment, the time of sticking together became less and less, and the time of splitting apart became more and more.
Other acts of deliberate malice, as well as the belief he was above almost everyone of his acquaintance, became hallmarks of his behaviour. But, the one that tore them asunder was the wooing of Miss Harding. Richard had been preoccupied with training green young men to fight for king and country in a time of war. His deployment out of the country had been imminent—it could have been anywhere, on any continent—South America, Asia, or Africa. Edmund had set about winning the object of his brother’s affections almost immediately after he left London. The Colonel rued the day he had disclosed his admiration—and more importantly the amount of Eleanor’s dowry—to his brother. He often was guilty of saying more than he should, and this time his tongue had been loosened by the French cognac Edmund had thought a fitting toast to his departure.