“I still say that woman might have ruined your health,” grumbled Lady Catherine.
“Yet, she did not,” said Anne reasonably. “Regardless, I am now of age and may choose for myself.”
Lady Catherine let out a long breath. “Yes, I suppose you must be correct. I apologize, Anne, for I never meant to stifle you. All I wished was to protect you.”
“I appreciate that, Mother,” replied Anne. “All I ask is that you allow me to follow my path. And for heaven’s sake, do not go on about Darcy and me! That will never happen, so you may as well allow the matter to rest.”
This was perhaps harder for her mother than anything else Anne had required of her. With some effort, however, she nodded but did not say more. It was, Anne thought, the best she could expect. As Anne asserted her independence and made her own choices, she expected her mother would become accustomed to the changing situation between them. There would undoubtedly be times when she would need reminding, but she would confront her mother’s future obstinacy when it arose.
At Longbourn, the day began much the same as it had at Netherfield. The more boisterous nature of the family there rendered any thoughts of the quietude that existed at the neighboring estate problematic. This was exacerbated by the control exerted by the family patriarch, communications that were not at all palatable to his youngest daughters.
“No, Lydia, Kitty,” said he when the girls loudly discussed their wish to go to Meryton that very morning. “I think the day spent in tranquility at Longbourn would do wonders for us all.”
“But Papa,” whined Lydia, “we simply must tell the other officers what has happened to Mr. Wickham. They will be so interested to hear it.”
“I suspect they already know, Lydia,” said Mr. Bennet. “The prison has an occupant; such news will make it around thecommunity in a trice.”
“They will wish to hear it from us,” said Lydia with all the confidence of a girl of fifteen.
“They will do well enough hearing it from another source,” said Mr. Bennet, unconcerned by his daughters’ pleading. “Today I require you all to remain at home.”
Though the girls grumbled, they eventually yielded, and the Bennets all remained together at the estate that day. That was when Mr. Bennet took to the floor to announce the other bit of news to the consternation of all. Or the youngest and silliest, at least.
“Now that we are together,” said Mr. Bennet a little later that morning when they were all seated together, “there is an announcement I must make.”
“Yes, Papa?” asked Jane, suspecting nothing amiss. Elizabeth could not imagine what her father wished to say to them, for the subject of which he was about to speak had utterly slipped her mind.
“I have decided regarding a recent invitation made to a certain member of our family.”
At that moment, Elizabeth recalled the invitation to Brighton, her advice to her father to refuse consent, and the departure of the regiment within the next week. In her defense, the events of the previous day had quite driven the matter from her mind. Lydia too had some sense of what he was about to say, and the girl’s frown suggested a pending outburst should her father say something she did not like. Elizabeth was not incorrect in this supposition.
“As you all remember, Mrs. Forster invited Lydia to accompany her to Brighton for the summer. I apologize, Lydia, but I cannot in good conscience allow you to go.”
“But Papa!” Lydia’s response was nearly a screech. “Imustgo!”
“Excuse me, Lydia,” replied Mr. Bennet, no sign of hesitation in his response, “there is no ‘must’ about this. You should remember that you are but fifteen and I am your father, thus my permission is required for you to accept any invitations.
“Before you say something that will force me to take action,” said Mr. Bennet when his youngest appeared ready to release an impressive outburst, “I ask you to reconsider. You have got it into your head that enjoyment in this world consists of naught but red-clad men and flirting. Life is a more serious business than that. It seems about time that we taught you of those simple facts.”
“Mr. Bennet,” said the man’s wife, her manner hesitant and uncertain, “might I ask why we must deny our daughter this amusement?”
“Again, Mrs. Bennet, there is no ‘must’ in this situation.” The gentleman regarded his wife with a kind smile. “In considering this matter, I have determined that it is best that Lydia remain at home and above all, should not go to Brighton.”
“Papa!” whined Lydia. “I already gave Mrs. Forster my consent. I cannot renege now.”
“Tell me, Lydia,” reproved Mr. Bennet, “did you come to me and ask permission?”
The way the girl stared, Elizabeth suspected she had never thought he would call her on that omission. Though Elizabeth had advised her father against the scheme, she had been uncertain herself.
“No, you did not,” said Mr. Bennet, answering his own question. “Instead, you assumed. Let this be a lesson to you, for in matters such as this, to secure consent you must ask. Merely assuming will more likely than not end in denial.
“Now, Mrs. Bennet,” continued he, returning his attention to his wife, “I have good reasons for denying my consent. Not only do I believe she is not ready for the responsibility of being insuch a place without her parents to guide her, but what I have seen of Mrs. Forster informs me that she is no fit chaperon.”
Mrs. Bennet regarded her husband, her glances at a pouting Lydia speaking to her uncertainty. “Mrs. Forsterisvery young.”
“That she is, Mrs. Bennet. While the colonel is a capable man, Lydia would spend the bulk of her time with the man’s wife, as he has certain duties that must be his focus. Yet that is not the primary source of my disquiet.
“Just yesterday, a most despicable man was unmasked in a manner no one of us can mistake. Mr. Wickham was no longer part of the regiment when it occurred, but hewasa member before. If one such man wore the scarlet, it is no stretch to suppose there are others. Lydia’s behavior toward the man yesterday was not the best, especially as she directed him to Longbourn in search of Miss de Bourgh.”
