Lydia Bennet's Story

by Jane Odiwe

  At last he spoke. “I will return tomorrow,” he said, standing to glower at her with his dark, brooding eyes. “I wish you would consider very carefully my offers of assistance to you. If you cannot oblige me, Miss Bennet, I beg you would think of your family, especially your parents and your sisters.”

  He departed without giving George his compliments, leaving Lydia feeling quite triumphant, though her account of the interview did not improve her lover’s temper one jot.

  Saturday, August 14th

  Georgie is in better humour today, despite being closeted with Mr Darcy for half the morning. That man is the rudest I know; he scarcely nodded in my direction on his arrival before banishing me to the bedchamber, which, although the scene of many happy hours, is now beginning to pall. I declare I could recount each and every cobweb and spider on the tented canopy of our bed if I was called upon to do so!

  I daresay we have not seen the last of Mr Darcy, but this afternoon we did not give him a thought. With George’s good spirits returned and his request to see me dance for him again, we might have been the only two people in the world. ’Tis surprising what effect an exhibition with two or three classically draped bed sheets can have on a young man, though it has to be said my efforts were slightly impeded by the vase which I held for authenticity. Afterwards, George pulled me onto his lap, and I fed him cherries as I sat on his knee, twirling his black curls through my fingers in rapturous elation.

  I wonder if Lady Hamilton’s exhibitions for a certain Naval intimate command such euphoric encores? I would lay bets that they do not!!!

  Chapter 18

  MR WICKHAM’S GOOD SPIRITS continued. Lydia suggested he must have a secret by the smile that played about his face, but it seemed he was not prepared to share it however much she pleaded with him. He insisted that, if all went according to plan, he would very likely have some good news for her on the morrow. Lydia did not think she could wait but wondered if all depended on Mr Darcy, who she surmised they would soon see again. By the very next day it was all settled. Mr Darcy appeared but did not stay for long. As soon as Lydia heard the door shut behind him, she emerged from the bedchamber, demanding a full report.

  “Well, Miss Bennet, it seems you are to make my fortune after all,” Wickham declared mysteriously, a broad smile on his countenance. “I always did admire you, but this afternoon, I declare, I never felt more in love.”

  “Whatever do you mean, George? Is Mr Darcy to give you some money? Is it because of me? I confess, I am astonished.”

  “Do not flatter yourself, my love. It is, after all, quite what he owes me, you know. If everything continues as well as it might, all will be to our satisfaction, I am certain. You will be pleased to be addressed as Mrs Wickham, I think, will you not?”

  “Whatever do you mean, George? Why do you tease me so?”

  “We are to be married, my dear.”

  “Married, George?! Are you asking me to marry you?”

  “Why yes, I suppose I am. In any case, it is all arranged.”

  “George, you are so clever! I knew you would find a way and to do it without me knowing a thing. But what did you mean by saying you only admired me before this afternoon? If I recall, you were the one desperate to have me run away with you. I never should have if I didn’t think you loved me.”

  “Quite so, Lydia, as you say. But I have important matters to occupy me. Now, where is my account book? Let me attend to my finances.”

  It appeared that his money worries had been resolved, yet she could hardly believe it had anything to do with Mr Darcy. He was intent on revealing their whereabouts to her uncle, and it transpired that her father had been in London searching the streets for days. She certainly did not want either of them turning up at their lodgings. Why they were making so much fuss she could not understand; she and George would have gone home sooner or later. Why could they not wait a bit longer? However, she could not be cross for long. She was to be married by the end of the month. Lydia thought they must be the happiest couple in the kingdom.

  Mr Darcy soon made another appearance, telling her she must pack her bag and be ready to leave for her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner’s house first thing on the following morning.

  “I will not go, Mr Darcy, and you cannot make me!” Lydia protested.

  “Let me assure you, Miss Bennet,” Mr Darcy declared, “there will be no wedding unless you do strictly as you are told. If you comply with these wishes, Mr Wickham will be allowed to visit you at your aunt’s house whenever you please, although to tell the truth that is a privilege I would have denied you!”

  Again she protested and appealed to Wickham.

  “My dear, I think on this occasion,” he answered, “it would be well to do as Mr Darcy requests. We do not want to upset your aunt, do we?”

  She was not looking forward to seeing either her aunt or her uncle, and only the thought that she and Wickham were soon to be married could make her visit there bearable.

  George was unusually quiet during the whole interview with Mr Darcy. Lydia thought he was such a ninny around him. How could he let Darcy dictate what his behaviour and actions should be? When there was a pause in the conversation between the two men, Lydia asked, “Mr Darcy, have you happened to have seen my papa?”

  “No, Miss Bennet, I have not had that pleasure,” he replied, “and I think you will understand when I say I am grateful that I have not had to witness his distress at this time.”

  She was sorely relieved. Her father had never thrashed her in her life, but she owned that she had been terrified at each knock upon the door, for she was sure he would not have held back with either herself or her amour on this occasion.

  “Your uncle will be acquainting your family with the particulars of the engagement in a letter, and I must add, Miss Bennet, that I think you are most fortunate to have such kind relatives to take in such an ungrateful girl and have the trouble of seeing to all the arrangements of your wedding. I hope you will be sensible and make yourself as pleasant and useful to your aunt as you can whilst you are under her care.”

  Lydia was incensed. Who did he think he was? He scolded her as a brother might, and she was affronted! No wonder her sister Lizzy was so revolted by him; Lydia could see exactly what she meant now.

  ***

  With great reluctance did she take leave of her dear Wickham and set forth to her aunt and uncle’s house on Gracechurch Street. Their welcome, although civil, was not exactly effusive and warm. She had just been relieved of her pelisse and shown to her room when her Aunt Gardiner appeared at her door, there to tell her exactly what she thought of her behaviour.

  “Well, Lydia,” she said, “I have often thought that your behaviour was not always seemly and that perhaps a little less overindulgence would have curbed the worst excesses, but I was prepared to think that, because you had been spoiled in your youth, you could not entirely be blamed for your impetuous ways. But I am at a loss as to know what I can say to you on this occasion. How could you be so selfish? You did not consider anyone else but yourself before you acted so rashly. Did you never once think of your poor mama, your papa, or indeed your sisters, on whom your sins would blight? Do you realise what such a scandal will do for the reputations of your sisters as well as your own? What sort of alliances they will be able to make now, when this gets out, I do not know. I only hope your marriage may stem the worst of the gossip, although people will talk. Your imprudent and dissipated ways have cost your sisters dearly. Folly and frivolity have been your undoing, and I hope you will now consider the damage you have very nearly brought to your reputation!”

  Lydia had never been told off quite like it before in her life; she was sure her mother would have been disgusted with her aunt if only she had known. Mindful of Mr Darcy’s dire warnings about upsetting her aunt, she managed to endure the worst by engaging her thoughts on last night’s passionate embraces, the memory of whic
h had her blushing with blissful recall. Her aunt instantly took her reddened cheeks and downcast eyes to show contrition, so for the time being, she was left alone to consider how fortunate she was that the disgrace she had brought upon her family would be slightly lessened by the fact that she was to become a respectable married woman.

  George called that evening and dined with them all. It was very strange to have to say goodnight to him, but Lydia was glad they were at least left alone for ten minutes in the hallway. How she would ever sleep that night without him to alleviate her restless spirits she did not know. He did his best in the confines of the cramped corridor, but all was totally unsatisfactory as his kisses only left her longing for more.

  Friday, August 20th

  I was allowed to go shopping for wedding clothes today and have made some good purchases, despite being forced to comply with every one of my aunt’s wishes. She gave instructions to the dressmaker for gowns with such a high décolletage that I shall look like an old matron. Every style she chose for me was at least two years out of date. My only comfort is that the dressmaker seemed to see my point of view, and I hope that my whispered entreaties will win the day. I am to wear cream silk on my wedding day with a blue bonnet and accessories, but I long to know which coat George is to wear. I favour his blue, and I declare no one ever saw a more handsome picture than him in it.

  The days drag along so slowly. I am scolded on a daily basis. Nothing I do or say seems to please my aunt, who is as bad-tempered as ever, making no attempt to understand me. Nobody seems to realise how much in love I am with George and that we didn’t have a choice about running away together. I am sure my aunt has forgotten what it is to be young and smitten with a young man, and I daresay she never loved Mr Gardiner with half the passion I have for my Georgie. Uncle Edward, it has to be said, whilst being a very affable kind of fellow, is not the sort to inspire passion in anyone, least of all my aunt. But then, it is very difficult trying to imagine one’s elders submitting to their feelings. I cannot begin to think about mama and papa being in love, and as for fervent ardour . . . well, perhaps the less said or thought about that the better.

  I only live for George’s visits, but even he does not please me today. When I first came here, he would visit all day and sit with me, but lately he has taken to disappearing for hours at a time and only turns up for his dinner. I have told him how lonely I am, but it is as if he does not hear me. I cannot wait until we are married and then we shall be in company with one another as much as I please! I love my darling angel so much and long for the day we are united as man and wife!

  Chapter 19

  LYDIA WAS SITTING WITH her aunt the next day, wishing that she did not have to endure yet another reprimand nor hear her aunt cluck once more in dismay, when the door opened and in stepped Mr Wickham with a jaunty air and a grin on his face. “Good morning, ladies, is it not a wonderful day? I have good news! It is all arranged, my love,” he said, turning to Lydia. “We are shortly to be removing to Newcastle!”

  “Newcastle, Mr Wickham!” Lydia shouted. “Lord above! Where on earth is that?”

  “Lydia!” admonished her aunt. “There is no need for such blasphemy!”

  “How can we leave all our friends, Georgie?” Lydia persisted. “I do not know that I care to go to this Newcastle place, and in any case, what on earth will we do there?”

  “I am to go into the regulars. I have an ensigncy in General Turnbull’s regiment. You will soon make new friends, have new favourites, my dear.”

  “Oh, a new regiment, you should have said so at once, my dear. How thrilling! Now that puts quite a different light on the matter. How envious Kitty will be; a whole new regiment of soldiers to be discovered and courted,” she shouted, leaping up to hug her fiancé. “Though to be sure, Mr Wickham will always have first place in my heart,” she added, glancing at her aunt whose eyebrows were raised to the heavens.

  “George, shall we have a large house in Newcastle? My sisters will be able to visit us and see for themselves how well you have done.”

  “I am sure we shall be very comfortable, my love. We will soon find some lodgings to suit us.”

  “Lodgings! Tush, George! We must have our own house. I can see it now, just on the edge of town, with ten windows either side of a large front door and a gravel sweep! I long to see to everything. We must have new furniture, and we mustn’t leave London without going to Wedgwood’s for a new dinner service. You know we can afford it now that Mr Darcy has given you some money.”

  “Lydia, I do not think it at all prudent to be spending money in such an ill-advised fashion,” interrupted her aunt. “You must learn to live within your means. I know some more reasonable warehouses where you may purchase china that will be more than adequate for your requirements. You will not be expected to entertain very often, and an expensive dinner service will only be a waste of money. If you are careful, and Mr Wickham works hard and is promoted, well, then you may have the cause and the funds for fancy things in Newcastle, but mark my words, Lydia, spend unwisely now and you will live to regret it.” Lydia did not listen. She did not care. Soon she would be gone and she would no longer have to listen to her aunt’s rantings.

  They were to travel to Newcastle immediately after they were married! But Lydia longed to see her mama and sisters before they went, and she was quite prepared to meet with her papa if he would be kind to her. How she would love to see all their faces and show off her ring. Married before any of the other Bennet girls; as her mama had always said, how jealous of her they would be. She did hope Elizabeth would not be too upset with her for stealing her beau. Lydia had thought her sister had had very high hopes of securing his affections once upon a time. Poor Lizzy and Jane—to be old maids and not know anything of the joy of married life. How Lydia felt for them.

  She was a little sad at not being able to see Harriet or Isabella, but she was sure they would meet from time to time. Her mother and poor sisters would not be able to see her for many years, but they would just have to get used to the dullness and silence, which would inevitably ensue when she was gone to the North. Poor wretched souls!

  ***

  Monday morning dawned at last; Lydia had hardly slept a wink during the night for all the nightmares she had, dreaming she was late to the church, dreaming that Wickham could not wait for her and that she was forced to marry Mr Darcy instead. She was so tired by the time she sat to her breakfast at ten that her aunt reprimanded her a dozen times for insolence and a host of other crimes because she was too tired to open her mouth.

  “Civility costs nothing, Lydia. I would have thought you could have wished your aunt good morning at the very least on this, your wedding day. All the trouble you have put your family to and you cannot find the tongue you were born with.”

  “I didn’t sleep well, and I am so fagged I couldn’t care if I had upset the King of England, let alone my family. I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

  “Lydia, you must learn to speak in a more ladylike fashion and have a little more respect for your relatives, as well as the monarchy, though I am not so sure they deserve it. Still, I do not know what your mother would think if she could hear you running on so.”

  Lydia’s poor nerves were quite torn to shreds before they had even arrived at St. Clement’s. Aunt Gardiner continued to abuse her and preach at her all the morning whilst she tried her hardest to dress. She could not understand why everyone was so vexed with her. Perhaps she had been unwise to run away, but she was so in love with George that she was not answerable for her actions. Could they not see that she had acted with the very best of intentions? George had needed her, she was in love with him, and that was all there was to the matter. She pulled on her gloves and stood in front of the glass. On the whole, she was pleased with her appearance. She wore a new cream silk dress with a short pelisse over, a hat of blue satin with a cream lace veil, decorated with sprigs of convolvulus—quite the
latest accessory.

  At the last minute, her uncle was called away by his business associate, Mr Stone, just as the carriage was arriving, and Lydia was thrown once more into the throes of anxiety, fearing that they would be late and that Wickham would think she was not coming. At last he appeared and off they set, her aunt’s scolding resounding in her ears and only the thought of seeing her darling Georgie and knowing that she was to be united with him in holy matrimony prevented her from having a fainting fit or running away.

  Lydia thought Mr Wickham looked as handsome as the devil in his blue coat and cut such a dash that Mr Darcy, who stood gravely beside him, paled into insignificance. Why he had to be there Lydia could not understand. She thought he had interfered quite enough already and suspected that her lack of wedding clothes had been a result of his all too frequent conversations with her aunt. She wished she could have been married from home with all her friends to see her and was sure her mama would have preferred it. Longbourn church would have been filled with people and posies. There was scarce a creature to be seen near St Clement’s: hardly a soul inside it nor a flower in sight! There was no music, and she knew there would be no peal of bells on the way out. Nevertheless, as she hung onto her uncle’s arm and walked up the aisle, she smiled to herself at the thought that this was, after all, her wedding day; she was to be married before any of her sisters!

  The bride was all beaming smiles and could not stop giggling at Wickham, who looked the very picture of solemnity, his face the same ashen shade as the statues who guarded their loved ones out in the graveyard. Lydia let go her uncle’s arm as soon as she could to stand at George’s side. She smiled up at him. “I shall laugh out loud, Georgie, if you wear that expression much longer. Do not tease me so on my wedding day,” she whispered before giggling into her prayer book. He bit his lip, his brow furrowing as though the weight of the world had been laid upon him.