Unexpected Friends & Relations

by Jayne Bamber

  When they came back together and went down the dance, Harriet was on the verge of beginning a second attempt, but Mr. Rushworth turned the subject. “I understand you are fond of novels. Your cousin, Miss Mary Bennet, informed me of the fact in London. She told me you have a great fondness for The Romance of the Forest, and though I am not a particularly great reader – I told her so myself – as far as novels go – I happened to come across a copy a few days later, and thought I may as well buy it as not. Should I read it, do you think?”

  Harriet laughed. What a strange question! No indeed, Mr. Rushworth was certainly not a sensible man, but Harriet did not always feel especially sensible herself, and could not fault him for it. He was, at least, making an effort to be agreeable, and she thought it curious that he should alight upon the subject of her favorite book, or remember such a detail about her. “Of course you should read it, since you have made the effort of purchasing it,” said she. “Certainly you must have thought to read it, else you would not have taken the trouble of buying it.”

  “Oh yes – of course,” said he, with a bashful look.

  Harriet was moved to take pity on him, for he was prone to growing very awkward indeed, especially in the company of ladies, and given what Georgiana had told her about the man, she felt no little tenderness in her heart toward him. “I daresay you should read it sir, for Georgiana and Lydia and I have only just begun taking turns reading it out to one another after our daily lessons. Oh! You must join our little reading circle! We have only begun the book yesterday, though of course I have read it before, but I am sure it shall be no trouble for us to begin again – tomorrow perhaps?”

  Mr. Rushworth smiled widely, an expression which almost rendered him handsome. “Certainly I could not intrude on such an innocent female gathering – that is, I would not wish to....”

  “No, it would be entertaining! Oh, do say you will join us. It should be very amusing to have somebody to read aloud with us, for you know we have to do all the voices ourselves, and Lydia is rather good at reading out Peter and Pierre’s parts, but I am sure you should do ever so much better.”

  “Well – you are sure your friends would not mind....”

  “I am sure of it,” Harriet said decidedly. Privately, she was only sure that she was most determined he should be friends with Georgiana, and after their dance had ended, she recommended her cousin as his next partner.

  Mr. Rushworth hesitated for a moment, before attempting another smile, and after what appeared to be a bit of an internal struggle, he approached Georgiana and asked for her next set. Georgiana appeared surprised, and cast a curious look in her direction before accepting, and Harriet felt very well pleased with herself.

  Harriet’s next partner was certainly well-disposed toward Georgiana – Mr. Willoughby spoke of little else, and Harriet was happy indeed that her cousin had such a charming admirer. He seemed just the sort of man to please Georgiana, for he was quite musical himself, and shared a great many of Georgiana’s other interests, particularly Shakespeare. He was one of the handsomest men she had ever encountered, perfectly at ease with all of his friends and new acquaintances alike, and infinitely capable of recommending himself to anyone whom he chose.

  Harriet could say much the same of her next partner after that, the new parson, Mr. Tilney. Perhaps not as handsome as Mr. Willoughby, or some of the other gentlemen of her recent acquaintance, he was certainly charming, and comfortable leading the conversation; this was rather a relief after the effort she had been obliged to exert when speaking with Mr. Rushworth. There was no awkwardness with Mr. Tilney, no obligation on her part to draw him out, for he was quite an open book.

  He shared her delight at every discovery made since arriving in Kent, perfect satisfaction with all of the neighborhood and its inhabitants, and a general sense of wonder and appreciation for everything in their present environs.

  “What of your situation before? That is, is Hunsford your first living?”

  Mr. Tilney screwed up his face for a moment. “I had the living of Woodston, in Gloucestershire, for nearly a year – but I am sure I am much happier here. I only wish I had not been obliged to leave my sister behind.”

  “You have a sister?”

  “Indeed, my sister Eleanor is a couple years older than yourself, I think. I know you would like her.” Mr. Tilney launched into a description of his sister, with whom he was rather close; he had been obliged to leave his former parish after a disagreement with his father, regarding his father’s determination to separate Miss Tilney from the man she loved, so that he might arrange to make a match for her to a more suitable gentleman.

  “How dreadful,” Harriet cried. “But what a shame that you were obliged to leave your own county after falling out with your father, and how shocking for your poor sister! But whatever became of her?”

  “It was a most curious situation – the living of Woodston was in my father’s gift, when first I was ordained, and took the position there. He made an arrangement with a neighboring landowner, a Mr. Beckham, who had just taken possession of Halliwell Hall, and as a concession of their border dispute – a rather large portion of land was in dispute between them – it was agreed that Mr. Beckham might consider the living of Woodston within his gift, when it came time to select a new parson. My father imagined this not to be for some years – beyond his lifetime, even. However, the gentleman my sister had become attached to, a very kind, very good man, is actually a distant cousin of Mr. Beckham’s. So, I took the position here, and Mr. Beckham awarded the living to his cousin, allowing him the means to marry. My sister will be of age in six months’ time, and I believe they will be very happy together ere long.”

  “But how clever of you to have thought of such a thing,” Harriet cried. She was touched by Mr. Tilney’s tender regard for his sister; that he would fall with his own father, and even leave his own parish, his own county, so that his sister’s intended could make a living, and his sister could be happy – that was certainly something!

  What a curious mix of companions they all were, Harriet thought. Mr. Tilney was certainly able to recommend himself to all of his new neighbors very easily, while Mr. Willoughby sought only to recommend himself to Georgiana, and Mr. Rushworth struggled to recommend himself to anyone at all; Harriet was inclined to believe Mr. Rushworth might easily accomplish it with just a little more effort. Even Lydia was improving in Harriet’s estimation – everything was going so very well indeed. Coming to Kent was just the thing to cure her of the anxiety she had felt in London, and Harriet believed that she could easily grow perfectly comfortable in society such as this.

  ***

  Lydia was full of self-importance and satisfaction with the turn of events that night. Finally she was leading the sort of life she ought to have done as soon as Elizabeth had married Mr. Darcy – mixing in fine society, and getting her fair share of attention.

  Though she still rather resented Caroline’s proclivity to lecture her, she found she could bear it tolerably well, so long as she remained focused on the rewards to be gotten – tonight, it was Caroline’s finest jewels. She was sure they looked better on her than they had ever done on Caroline, for she had a much finer bosom for one to look upon, once one had gotten past the grand spectacle of the diamond necklace around her neck!

  The necklace and matching headpiece, which was rather uncomfortable but well worth it, and even the pink silk gown, were finer than anything she had ever worn in her life. They were on loan, but Lydia had every intention of losing them – by hiding them at the bottom of her trunk.

  She received Harriet and Georgiana’s compliments in good cheer, and found it much easier to be kind to them when they showed her such respect as she felt her due. After all, was Georgiana not practically her own sister? She had found little to like in Elizabeth and Kate’s new family, when first they had gone to Pemberley – most of Mr. Darcy’s relations, including the man himself, were rather stuffy, fearfully imposing, and a great deal too incline
d to remind Lydia how much better they were than she Georgiana was the only one of them who was not terribly frightening, but she was so very reserved! So determined to be prim and proper all the time – it was unceasingly dull. Georgiana disliked gossip, had little interest in men, and was unwilling to share any of her fine jewels and gowns with Lydia – what could Lydia like in a companion who was always so determined to hammer away at her pianoforte, or hide her face in a book?

  Seeing Kate so very changed had been a shock, for she was rather prone to act more like Elizabeth now; at first Lydia had not liked it, and then her abhorrence had turned into jealousy, when she began to understand how much her new brother Robert doted upon Kate. Caroline had explained it all, and though it made sense, Lydia thought it the hardest thing in the world that she should have to change her very essence in order to be accepted by society, and find a proper husband. Still, she was determined to try. While she was disappointed that she would not have the distinction of being the first of her sisters to marry, at least she would not suffer the indignity of being the last!

  Her first object would have been Mr. Willoughby, for he was both handsome and rich, and very interesting besides. His manners seemed to be everything charming, though she had not enjoyed much of his attention, for he was so very fixated on Georgiana. Mr. Audley was just as agreeable, and nearly as handsome, though certainly not quite so rich. She had a long-standing acquaintance with him, having met him at the Netherfield ball the previous summer, and she had been his first choice of partner on that occasion. They had met again last autumn, at the ball for Elizabeth in London, and he had seemed pleased to resume their acquaintance. She was certain she would have him in her thrall ere long.

  Mr. Audley approached her almost as soon as she had entered the ballroom, solicited her hand for the opening dance as well as the supper set, and seemed quite determined to make love to her. “Where ever has your sister Mrs. Darcy been hiding you away all these months? I am sure I have not seen you in six months at least,” said he.

  The temptation immediately arose for Lydia to disparage her sister Elizabeth, and yet the little voice in her mind, which sounded annoyingly like Caroline, urged her to hold her tongue. Lydia unwittingly rolled her eyes.

  Mr. Audley took this for an answer, and laughed. “Just as I suspected – she has been hiding you away! She must, for you are almost too beautiful to look upon.”

  “Oh, Mr. Audley,” Lydia crooned, and batted her eyelashes at him.

  “Indeed,” he continued, “I am sure I cannot recall you ever looking so very fine – if you had, I am certain I should have carried you away in an instant. Are these improvements the result of your sister’s marriage to Mr. Darcy, or from your new friendship with Mrs. Sutton?”

  Lydia was well prepared for such a question – she had been instructed, at length, by Caroline to seize every opportunity to highlight the great improvements she had made, in such a way as it would show her to be the most eligible candidate for marriage.

  “Both, I suppose,” she said, in the silky, poised tone of voice she had practiced. She took the trouble to correct her posture, affecting a very refined stance as she moved through the dance. “My sister Mrs. Darcy is of course very concerned for my well-being, now that I am out in society, and hand-selected Mrs. Sutton as a chaperone for me, for they are dear friends, and certainly such a very wealthy woman must be just the sort of influence a lady of my station should enjoy. I am also learning music, French, and poetry alongside dear Harriet and Georgiana. The improvement of my mind and accomplishments is my primary concern – it is all I think about.”

  “I hope you might begin to think of other things,” said he, and then dropped his voice to whisper, “I hope that you might begin to think of me.”

  Lydia blushed and looked away, coquettishly deciding to pretend not to have heard him. This only heightened his desire to flirt with her, and over the course of the dance he lavished her with such compliments as she had never received before, not even from the many officers who had camped in Meryton the previous spring.

  Lydia was vastly pleased with her success, for she really did fancy Henry Audley a great deal, and was delighted that he should be so taken with her. Gratified with her conquest, she was moved to make herself more agreeable than she had ever done, while attempting to abide Caroline’s advice of appearing refined, and aloof to his flattery.

  Her next partner was less agreeable – Captain Wentworth. Despite Caroline’s instructions that Lydia should try to like him, and her machinations in arranging for him to give her horseback riding lessons, Lydia’s heart was not likely to be touched by such a man. He was so old – though handsome, she did not quite like the look of him, compared to the younger gentlemen, such as Mr. Audley and Mr. Willoughby.

  He seemed a rather dull sort of man – perhaps not so dull as Mr. Rushworth, nor so stupid – merely not inclined to put forth an effort to converse with her. Most of their conversation tended toward questions about Caroline – how had Lydia come into Caroline’s care? What was the degree of their acquaintance? What did she know of Mr. Seymour Sutton? When had Caroline been married?

  She told him what little she did know – that Caroline and her sister Elizabeth had been rivals before they had become friends, that Caroline had been asked to instruct her in the ways of refined society because the Darcys were too preoccupied to attend to her themselves, and that Caroline had become engaged to Mr. Sutton at a ball last autumn, though she had hardly seemed happy about it at the time.

  She knew it wrong of her to mention this last part, but could not resist, for at last Captain Wentworth actually seemed interested in her conversation. She described with relish the spectacle Caroline had made of herself at the Banfields’ ball, and hinted to Captain Wentworth that the unexpected betrothal of Caroline and her husband had caused her mentor no little unhappiness.

  “She certainly never speaks of him,” Lydia observed. “Only to lecture me, and encourage me to make a better match than she did.”

  Laughing, Lydia clapped a hand over her mouth. “You must pretend I did not say that – you must not tell her – that is….”

  “It will be a great secret between us,” he said with a smile. “A secret between a riding instructor and his finest – and only – student.”

  Lydia smiled gratefully at him, relieved she would face no reprisals for her indiscreet comment. Really, it had been the first misstep all evening; she had been doing so well until now. At least Captain Wentworth and she were to be friends – she still seriously doubted it would ever lead to anything more, but if Caroline should observe the two of them in such close conversation – for she was always looking on – she must think they were speaking of anything else in the world, and getting on famously. Indeed, Lydia would more likely be rewarded for her efforts!

  Making conversation with Captain Wentworth ceased to be an effort at all, once the subject of Caroline had been introduced, and though, upon later reflection, Lydia was rather wounded that she had not captured his notice in that way – for why should she not? – she was satisfied that he would keep her secret, and perhaps even continue to give the appearance of being as interested in her as Caroline might wish. She did at least have one great conquest that night, for Mr. Audley danced the supper set with her, and was even more intent on wooing her than he had been in their earlier dance.

  It was to be a country dance, and a rather spirited one, with lots of spinning and clapping and moving about, providing Lydia ample opportunity of displaying her figure to best advantage with every twist and turn, which was better even than conversation, as a way of flirtation. She observed how he watched her with his eyes in every movement, and imagined how very fine she must look with the shimmering diamonds about her neck and in her hair, as she whirled in time to the music.

  Henry Audley seemed absolutely captivated by her beauty and grace, and it was such a vigorous dance that they were both quite breathless by the end of it. He got them both a glass of champagne, whic
h Lydia had consumed quite a lot of that evening, and suggested that it had grown rather warm in the ballroom – perhaps she might like to step out on the balcony, and take some fresh air?

  She nearly suggested that as everyone else was going into supper, they might claim a table and take a seat there to rest, but thankfully she had the sense not to say so – he certainly meant to steal away for a moment of privacy! Surreptitiously following Mr. Audley, who made sure that they were not seen making their escape, Lydia soon found herself quite alone with him on the balcony.

  The balcony doors have been thrown open, and anyone might have come upon them at any moment, but he pulled her away toward a dark corner near the railing, holding her hands in both of his. “You are so beautiful in the moonlight,” he breathed, “those diamonds shining like stars – might I touch them?”

  “You may,” Lydia replied throatily.

  Mr. Audley brushed his hands across the large diamonds set in the necklace, his fingers lingering across her bare skin, and Lydia took a deep breath, thrusting her bosom up against his hand.

  Slowly, his fingers moved up from her chest, up her neck, and cupped her face as he stared into her eyes. “How could I resist so much beauty?”

  “Perhaps you need not resist,” she whispered.

  “When you said – when you told me you thought only of your studies – how it broke my heart,” said he. “I wish you to think of me. I am often thinking of you, especially since your coming to Kent.”

  Play coy, Lydia reminded herself, though it was the last thing she wished to do at such a moment. “And what have you been thinking, sir?”

  “That I admire you – that I am intrigued by you – your spirit, your energy, your wit – and tonight, your beauty and grace.”

  Lydia felt her heart beat faster. Nobody had ever admired her for her wit before! Mr. Audley drew his hands away from her face, and Lydia gave a little sigh at the sudden absence of his touch. His hand sought hers, and he entwined his fingers with hers, giving her a look of yearning. “Would you – could you ever think of me?”