“Charles took it for us, so that I might enjoy a fortnight in town and visit with those of my acquaintance who have remained for the summer,” she answered, busying herself with the tea service.
“Us?” Caroline’s brows rose.
“Cousin Portia is with me. I thought you would wish to speak privately, but I would be happy to ask her to join us.”
Lips pursed with disdain, she replied only, “I thank you, but that will not be necessary.”
Louisa handed her sister a cup and sat with her own. “I was surprised to receive your card. You have not written in months, and I had come to believe you no longer wished to know me. I am not sure how you discovered my whereabouts, to be honest.”
Caroline shrugged. “One hears things. When I learnt that Charles and that creature he married had left England, I saw an opportunity to once again be in company with my dear sister.” Her smile was everything smooth and insincere. Louisa wondered if Caroline had always regarded her so, and she had been too gullible to see it.
“Jane is our sister now.”
Caroline sniffed. She had declined her brother’s invitation to attend the wedding, and did not appear at all reconciled to the marriage. “It is the sister who sits before me now of whom I wish to think,” she said in an ingratiating tone that instantly put Louisa on alert. “We are both independent now, and considering our closeness all these years, what would be more natural than setting up housekeeping together? Why should we burden ourselves with companions or indigent relations when we might more amiably keep propriety for each other? We might lease some comfortable rooms, and staying here in London will surely be more agreeable than living with our relations in Scarborough.”
Louisa sipped her tea before replying. “I am not bound for Scarborough when this visit is over. Cousin Portia, who is, as you well know, far from indigent,” she said with a stern glance that visibly surprised Caroline, “will be staying with me at Netherfield. Charles and Jane have invited me to make my home with them for a long as I wish, and I have accepted.”
“Netherfield,” Caroline pronounced with contempt. “No, you had much better stay here. You will be far better entertained, even with the constraints of your mourning.”
“I disagree. I have found I enjoy living in the country, and I have good friends in Hertfordshire now, whose company I should be loath to forego.”
“What friends could you possibly have in such a savage place?” her sister cried.
“The Bennet girls are delightful, as is their friend, Miss Maria Lucas,” Louisa answered. “Mrs Jones, who you knew as Miss Lucas, is becoming a friend also, as is Mr Bennet.” She recalled how, when she had confessed herself undecided as to whether to remain at Netherfield or join her relations in the north, the Bennet ladies had clamoured for her to remain, and Mr Bennet had added his own opinion that she would be greatly missed, without any of his usual sportive wit. She felt the rightness of her decision all over again, and faced her sister with renewed resolve.
“A pack of silly country chits, a dull stick of a woman, and a sad excuse for a gentleman?” Caroline’s face was a picture of incredulity. “They are nothing to your friends here!”
“I have learnt,” said Louisa sharply, “that some of my ‘friends’ in town have far less to say to me now that I am a widow with a small income. An income, I might add, that will go farther in the country, living in my brother’s house.”
“Your income would also go farther living with me.” Her tone became cajoling, and she leant forward to place a hand on Louisa’s arm and entreat, “It would be like old times, only better, with no gentlemen to dictate our movements.”
“I am persuaded that your first reason is the true one,” she replied with a mildness that belied the pounding of her heart. How she despised this fuss and bother! And how it hurt, to know she was but a means to a selfish end for someone to whom she had been so devoted. “If you wished for my company, you would not have forgotten me for all these months. But now that you have understood the cost of decent lodgings and a companion’s wages, you look to me to alleviate your problems. I will not, Caroline. I return to Netherfield next week, and shall be glad to do so. If you have decided that you no longer wish to impose upon the Symondses’ hospitality, you must set up your own establishment and resign yourself to a smaller wardrobe.”
“It is such a bother, being always a guest! One must constantly give way to the preferences of others,” Caroline retorted shrilly. “But it is far too expensive to live in London alone! You must help me, Louisa!”
“I cannot, nor do I wish to.” She stood, signalling that the interview was at an end. “Stay here with friends, moderate your spending, or set yourself up elsewhere. You are not without options.”
“You are no sister of mine!” Caroline retorted spitefully, and stalked from the room without another word.
Louisa sank back down onto her chair, clasping her trembling hands tightly together, and strove not to waste any tears on her unworthy sister. After a moment and several deep, restorative breaths, she began to feel just a little proud of herself.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
As Lydia returnedfrom a visit to her aunt Philips several days after the weddings of her eldest sisters, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to find Captain Carter hurrying to catch her up.
“Miss Lydia!” he called cheerfully. “I was on my way to call at Longbourn when I spotted you on the path. May I walk with you?” He offered his arm as he drew abreast of her, and she accepted it with a smile.
“How fortunate that we should meet like this, Captain, for there is a matter I have been wishing to discuss with you, but not before all in my father’s parlour.”
“Oh?” He looked at her curiously. “Speak, then. I am happy to hear any concern of yours, Miss Lydia.”
“What are your intentions towards my sister, Mary?” she asked bluntly. “And do not tell me you do not call upon her particularly—for I have noticed how you look at her, particularly when she is not looking at you!”
He laughed heartily. “I see I have no secrets from you. My intentions are entirely honourable—in fact, I have been attempting this last week to speak to your father, but have been thwarted at every turn. My time in Meryton grows short, and I have determined not to leave without pleading my suit. That is, of course, if you and your father will allow it.”
Lydia looked surprised. “Why, what has my permission to do with anything?”
He grinned down at her. “I know very well that Miss Bennet would value your blessing at least as highly as your father’s, and I fear I should have no chance with her at all ifyouspoke against me.”
