by Leenie Brown
“No, it is standing completely still,” said Mrs. Ross, “Not a stick of furniture has wobbled in nearly half an hour. I am, however, still feeling a tightening of the muscles in my belly.”
“You are certain you do not require the midwife?” Lydia asked in concern.
Mrs. Ross shook her head. “This happened before Edith was born as well. She was a few weeks early.” She rubbed her belly as she slowly walked around the room on Lydia’s arm. “I expect this one will be here before long, but not today.”
“Are you anxious?” Lydia asked softly. She did not wish to be rude, but she was curious. She had not been with any woman who was about to give birth.
Mrs. Ross laughed lightly. “I have done this three times already, so I do know what to expect, but yes, I still get anxious and excited.” She squeezed Lydia’s arm. “However, I am curious about what this one will be. Will Frank finally have a brother or continue to be outnumbered? Keeping the thought of meeting this little one foremost in my mind keeps my concerns in the back.”
“Do you wish for a boy or a girl?”
Mrs. Ross sighed. “The correct answer is for a healthy child no matter the gender, but to be honest, Frank would dearly love a brother, and I would be glad to see him receive one. However, whether his wish is granted or declined, I will love this child as I do my others.”
“Frank is a good boy,” said Lydia as she assisted Mrs. Ross in returning to her seat.
“That he is,” Mrs. Ross agreed with a smile. “He wishes to be like his father.”
Lydia arranged Mrs. Ross’ pillows and the footstool. “He takes great care of his sisters.”
“He does much to Edith’s dismay at times.” Mrs. Ross chuckled. “She is a free spirit. Curious and quick. She will accomplish great things.”
Lydia could see that in Edith there was a determination that seemed indomitable.
“Frank has not yet realized his sister’s curiosity is a strength to be nurtured, but I believe, he will.” She smiled at Lydia. “What you told him just now will help. They were wise words.”
Lydia felt her cheeks grow warm. She had never been praised for giving instruction nor has she ever been called wise. She was glad that Edith had such a mother, and she determined that should she ever be given the chance to be a mother herself, she would be like Mrs. Ross, accepting of her children’s differences and viewing them as strengths to be nurtured.
“My sister will be her tomorrow,” said Mrs. Ross. “I had hoped she would arrive before I began feeling like this, but one can never tell for certain when it will begin. Each child is different.”
Lydia filled Mrs. Ross’ glass with water from the decanter on the table near the door. “Are you and your sister close?”
Mrs. Ross smiled. “We are now, but we were not always so. Age and experience can change the dynamic between sisters and brothers. Frank and Susan are close, and I expect will always remain so, but Edith drives poor Frank to distraction. She is lively while he is serious, but he, no matter her antics, would protect her with his life. He is that sort, you know.” She looked out the window to where her children were waiting for Lydia. “He sees the danger in her curiosity, and it is his love for her that causes him to worry about her safety when she will not worry about it for herself.”
“They are lovely children,” said Lydia.
Mrs. Ross nodded. “I have been blessed.” She took a sip of her water and then nodded toward the window. “I think you might be needed soon. I see that Edith is crossing her arms which means Frank is being demanding.” She laughed. “Oh, I shall delight to see what sort of husband, Edith finally snares with that determined spirit!” She continued to chuckle. “I imagine it will be someone very much like her brother.”
“But would that not be a difficult match?” Lydia asked in surprise. “Would they not argue and fight?”
Mrs. Ross shrugged. “I am certain there would be some argument, but like I said, Frank loves her and will see to her safety when she will not do so herself. That is the sort of gentleman she shall need. One who gives guidance out of love.”
Lydia had not considered such a thing before. She had not considered that scolding and disapproving could be the way some people showed love. The idea was startling.
She peeked out the window at the children after she had made certain Mrs. Ross did not require anything else. “They are blessed,” she said before stepping out of the door to the room. “You are a very good mother.” And then, without waiting for Mrs. Ross to reply, she returned to her charges.
~*~*~
Marcus dropped into a chair, his legs not willing to allow him to stand at the news Aunt Tess had just shared. “Missing? What do you mean missing?”
“Exactly what I said,” Aunt Tess replied, her tone sharper than normal. She peered out the window again. She had been watching out that window for an hour already. “Miss Lydia is not here. She is missing. Lucy and Philip have gone to High Street to see if she is there and has just gotten distracted by the shops.” She turned from the window with a sigh. “I sent her to place an order for lace. Mrs. Smith will be wanting a bit for the cap she is making, and I wished to provide it.” She picked up a package from the side table. “The lace has arrived, but Miss Lydia has not.”
“Have you shown her the direction to the inn?” Marcus’s heart was beating wildly in his chest. She had promised to not leave until after Michaelmas, but then that was before she had been told about needing to marry. She had been acting peculiar yesterday. But she had promised to visit his father. Surely, she would not leave without seeing his father.
Aunt Tess shook her head. “No, I have not, and she has not taken her bags. All her things are still in her room.”
A modicum of relief crept into Marcus’s mind.
“She has found something of interest,” said Elizabeth, “and forgotten all else. It would not be the first time.”
Aunt Tess’s brows furrowed. “I cannot agree. She was so eager to learn and do well.”
“Lydia?” Jane’s question was soft, but there was no mistaking the surprise in her voice.
Aunt Tess nodded. “There was a moment after we left Aldwood Abbey where I thought she might become reticent, but she did not.”
“What do you mean?” Marcus had taken up Aunt Tess’s spot at the window watching toward High Street, so that he could see if Philip and Lucy returned alone or not.
“Oh, she was upset by something, and I thought she might lose her resolve.” Aunt Tess shook her head. “But she did not. She dried her tears, put on a smile, and entertained the Ross children as if nothing had disturbed her.”
Marcus’s heart sank. In the short time he had known Lydia, he had witnessed her ability to hide her feelings behind a smile on more than one occasion. And so he knew that a smile did not mean all was well.
“But this morning,” Aunt Tess continued, “she was up and ready to go about our duties before I was.”
“Lydia?” Elizabeth was incredulous. “Lydia does not rise early.”
Aunt Tess shrugged. “She has willingly risen early the last two mornings.”
“Lydia?” Elizabeth asked once more.
“They are alone,” said Marcus. “She is not with them.”
“Oh, dear,” said Aunt Tess, coming to join him at the window to see the truth of the situation with her own eyes.
“I will ride toward Aldwood Abbey,” he said taking his hat. “Perhaps she wished for a game of chess.” He knew it sounded silly. It was a foolish idea, but he needed to be out and looking for her. The skies would not stay bright for very many hours longer.
“Lydia does not play chess,” said Elizabeth.
“My father was teaching her,” said Marcus. As he ducked out of the room, he could hear Aunt Tess telling Elizabeth of Lydia’s lesson yesterday. Hearing Darcy’s voice joining with Aunt Tess’s brought a smile to Marcus’s face as he swung up onto his horse. He looked up the street and decided that instead of setting off directly toward home, he w
ould confirm that Lydia was indeed not in any shop on High Street.
Chapter 17
Marcus took a ride toward the church and around again toward the main road into Kympton from Willow Hall. He remembered telling Lydia how that road wrapped around, and though he had been in the churchyard earlier, it was still possible that she might be somewhere along that lane, doing what he did not know, but he felt he must check.
Not finding her there, he decided that the cottage where he had first found her might be a good place to begin his search. She still had his key, after all. So, he turned and rode toward Willow Hall. He had just ridden past the Abbots’ home when the thought struck him that Lydia might have stopped there for a rest, so he turned and went back.
“Ho, there, Mr. Dobney!” called Mr. Abbot from the garden, croquet mallet in hand. He approached the hedge that bordered the side garden as Marcus drew his horse close. “I am afraid you have missed all the young people as they have taken the carriage to visit Mrs. Barnes and Mrs. Dobney. They left about an hour ago and do not plan to return for at least another hour.”
Marcus knew it would probably have been more polite to dismount to have a conversation, but he did not wish to waste time. Who knew where someone like Lydia might wander and in what danger she might find herself! “I was just there. Are you certain none have returned?”
“Yes, none have returned.” Mr. Abbot’s face grew concerned. “Is something amiss?”
By this time, Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet had joined Mr. Abbot at the hedge.
“I went to call on Miss Lydia,” he shifted uneasily in his saddle. He probably should have requested permission from her father before going to call on her, but in all honesty, his mind had been so intent on his decision that the detail of requesting permission had completely been overlooked.
“Indeed,” said Mr. Bennet, a smile curling his lips in a knowing smile. “Did you have any particular purpose in mind?”
Marcus slid from his horse. “I did.” He stood between his horse and the hedge. “But she was not there.”
Mr. Bennet tipped his head to the side. “Was she gone out on a call?”
Marcus shrugged and shook his head. “No one knows. She went on an errand for Aunt Tess and did not return. I was riding in this direction in hopes of finding her.”
“They have checked all the shops?” Mr. Bennet handed his mallet to Mr. Abbot and began around the hedge. “She has been known to lose track of time when distracted by the goods in the stores. The milliner’s shop is her particular favorite.”
Marcus rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Philip and Lucy checked. She is not there.”
“I will return,” Mr. Bennet said to Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Abbot.
“Do you wish for us to assist you?” asked Mr. Abbot.
Mr. Bennet shook his head. “I do not know how you could.”
Marcus was about to agree when he remembered that Lydia had called on several people yesterday. She had been particularly taken with Mrs. Bell. “If you would ride to Mrs. Bell’s house,” he said to Mr. Abbot. “She called there with Aunt Tess yesterday. She may have returned to tend the flowers.”
“Who is Mrs. Bell?” questioned Mr. Bennet.
“An elderly lady whom Aunt Tess has taken on as a special project of sorts,” Marcus explained.
Mr. Bennet pursed his lips and nodded his head. “Lydia always did enjoy making calls with her mother.” He began walking toward the stable with Marcus following behind. “I am glad to hear Mrs. Barnes is taking Lydia along.”
“I had thought to check at Aldwood Abbey,” said Marcus. “My father was teaching Miss Lydia how to play chess, and if she got bored, I thought perhaps she might have ventured in that direction.”
Mr. Bennet slowed his steps. “Does she like chess?”
“Very much from what I gathered from my father.”
Mr. Bennet stood perfectly still. “I would have never expected her to like it. It requires remaining still and a good deal of concentration. I had not noted those qualities in her.” There was a hint of something sad in his tone. He once again began walking toward the stables. As they drew close, he called for a horse to be readied and then waited in the yard for the animal to be brought to him. He paced a small circle, head down, watching his boots. He stopped in front of Marcus. “It makes sense with all the other things she has done recently. Strategy, manoeuvring — two skills that chess requires, and I did not realize she had.” He chuckled. “Although I imagine her sisters have realized it to some extent. It is quite likely how she has gotten so much of what she wants.” He shook his head. “My failures regarding her mount.” He looked back at Willow Hall. “Over the past few days, I have wondered how any of my daughters have turned out as well as they have. It certainly was not due in any large part to my efforts.”
Marcus did not know exactly how to respond to such a statement. He had not seen much of Mr. Bennet’s daughters, aside from Lydia. Elizabeth had spent some time in his company and seemed assured of herself and her abilities — nearly too assured. He had not thought so at first but seeing and hearing how she thought of Lydia had done it. But then any who tried to disparage Lydia did not stand high in his opinion.
He turned his thoughts to Jane as Mr. Bennet mounted his horse. Jane had not spoken to Marcus more than a dozen times and had always been very proper and pleasant though a trifle dull, in his opinion. However, she was kind to Lydia, so she did stand a step ahead of Elizabeth.
But Lydia — he swung up onto his own horse — well, he had spent time with her and had heard her comments about both her father and her sisters — none of whom seemed to expect much of her. It was a thought that still baffled him. How had they lived with her for so many years and not seen her potential? He shook his head. He had nearly done the same. Was it not he who had dismissed the idea of marrying her just because he thought her unprepared? However, unprepared did not equate to unable.
“I would like to marry Miss Lydia,” he blurted. “If I can find her and persuade her to accept me.”
Shock mingled with pleasure suffused Mr. Bennet’s face. “Do you know what you ask? She is headstrong and spoiled.”
Marcus chuckled. It had been no easy task to persuade her to return to Willow Hall. “That she is, along with being far too young and unprepared to take on Aldwood Abbey. But she is not incapable of learning. She is smart — if a bit illogical — and will get along fine with a bit of instruction.”
Mr. Bennet’s brows rose, a small bit of incredulity shone in his eyes. “You think very highly of her for all the trouble and stir she had caused. Your life will not be peaceful.”
Marcus chuckled again. That was the most incongruous thing. He knew he would never find rest without the commotion Lydia might bring. “My life — my heart — will not know peace without her liveliness, sir. I will own that there will be pouting and stamping of feet at times. A lady of Miss Lydia’s leadership abilities does not often acquiesce without some show of displeasure — some argue and debate while others huff and stamp. And I am not a whit less stubborn, of that my father and siblings will assure you.”
Mr. Bennet wore a half smile, but his eyes still held their disbelief. “You think she will bow to your will and not harass you until she gets her way?”
Marcus blinked at the man, a sudden annoyance replacing his good humor. Did Mr. Bennet know nothing of his daughter? “I believe she will,” he answered. “If I can show her the love and respect she deserves, I believe, she will.” He pressed his heels into his mount to speed him.
Mr. Bennet trotted up next to him. “I do love her.”
Marcus turned his head in the man’s direction. “As do I.”
“But you do not think I respect her.”
Marcus drew a deep breath and released it. He measured his words carefully before speaking. “Although I cannot speak with authority to that point at all, having only met you, I have not seen it evidenced. She came up with a plan to set things right and few, yourself include
d, seemed willing to consider it.” He blew out another breath. His chances of being allowed to marry Lydia after such a comment were limited, he was certain.
“You prize honesty,” said Mr. Bennet.
“I do,” Marcus admitted.
“She schemes. Blackmail, forgery, manipulation — that is how she ended up needing a plan to set things right.”
Frustration rose within Marcus. It was as if her father was attempting to convince him that he should not marry Lydia. “She has always been truthful with me.”
“You have not known her long,” Mr. Bennet cautioned.
“Sir,” said Marcus, reining in his horse and turning to face Mr. Bennet, “I have known her long enough to know that my heart will not be at peace without her and her challenging ways. I will not be persuaded to drop my suit. If you do not wish for me to marry her, you must tell me directly.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyes narrowed as he studied Marcus. “And if I deny you your suit, how long would it be before you would reach Scotland?”
Marcus smiled. Obviously, Mr. Bennet finally understood just how determined he was to marry Lydia. “That depends on how long it would take me to convince her to act so improperly. She has very unusual ideas about what is proper and what is not, so I cannot tell you exactly how long it would take.” Marcus raised a brow, his expression becoming serious. “But, no matter how long it takes or if I have to beg Bingley to allow me the use of Netherfield and follow her back to Hertfordshire, I will convince her.”
Mr. Bennet clucked his tongue and prodded his horse to walk. “I am satisfied,” he said with a smile. “A man of less determination would stand little chance with Lydia. So perhaps, Mr. Dobney, as we are searching for her, you can tell me what you have to offer besides the mulishness to handle my daughter.”
They rode and talked, each man getting to know the other better. Though Marcus was uncertain he could ever completely absolve Mr. Bennet of his neglect of a mind such as Lydia’s, he did come to understand that the gentleman realized his errors with his daughters. And he could not deny that had Mr. Bennet taken the care he needed to take with Lydia, she would have never stumbled into Marcus’s cottage and heart. So reluctantly, Marcus allowed that although Lydia had suffered for her father’s neglect, the results were not all bad. And he knew that, if he should be so fortunate as to earn Lydia’s acceptance, he would see that neglect replaced with regard.