“There is something odd in the business,” Elizabeth agreed. “To have changed tack so suddenly!”
“But what did you say to him?” With a cautious but extremely serious look, she added, “Do not give me the displeasure of seeing you unhappily married, Lizzy. Affection…family…childrenare, I think, at least of some importance to you?”
Elizabeth nodded, these thoughts in no way new to her after a sleepless night of rumination. “I hardly know what I said. I think…I did not really give any answer. Miss Hawkridge was there, and it was all very awkward.” She sighed. “We have been such good friends, which makes this all so much more difficult.”
“Makes what all the more difficult?”
“Refusing him,” Elizabeth said. “And yes, I will refuse him. I ought to have made it clear that was myintention yesterday, but I was just too shocked to reply with any degree of composure.” And her thoughts had been entirely too consumed in anticipation of another man’s call. But neither Mr Darcy nor Mr Hartham had come, despite both promising that they would. Instead, she had been left to wonder, and question, andremember, and disbelieve, and worry, and despair.Why, ohwhydid Mr Darcy not call?
“You must do it immediately,” Mrs Gardiner warned. “Do you think he anticipates a favourable reply?”
“I think any man who proposes anticipates a favourable reply else he would not propose,” said Elizabeth wryly. “Do you think the house is the inducement for his sudden affection for me? Or this bit of fortune I now possess? I always thought my lack of dowry or fortune a disadvantage, but at least…” She swallowed, then looked away. She did not wish to finish her sentence, which was that at least Mr Darcy showed no concern for fortune. He had proposed to her when she had nothing, and the bit she had now was nothing to what he already possessed. If he ever proposed again—and it felt to be a more tenuous ‘if’ by the hour—it would not be to gain a house in Brighton.
“Does it matter what his provocation is?” her aunt enquired gently. “If you do not wish to marry him and mean to refuse him, the reason is immaterial.”
Before Elizabeth could respond, a soft knock came at the door, followed by the entrance of the maid bearing another letter on a silver tray. “Letter for Miss Bennet, ma’am. It was mislaid this morning, beg your pardon.”
Elizabeth took it, pausing when she observedLydia’s familiar, carelessly looped scrawl. “From Lydia.” She gave her aunt a look.
Mrs Gardiner wrinkled her brow. “Lydia? Why would she be writing to you?”
“If I know my sister, it can only be one of two things. She either needs money or is angry with me for something. Either way, there is only one way to find out!”
22
Elizabeth was relieved to read that Lydia was well—and had not grievously overspent her allowance yet—but her letter did raise some alarm on her own behalf.
Lizzy,
Shall I still refer to you as such? Or perhaps I must call you Miss Elizabeth, for evidently we are no more sisters than Princess Caroline and Lady Hertford! How stupid I felt at the assembly last night, not even knowing the news of my own sister! I am sure I looked like a fish, standing there agape when Denny told me you were to marry Mr Hartham!
I must tell you that there is a general consensus among the officers that he is not the marrying kind, but that is nothing to me. I hear he stands to inherit an enormous place out in the country somewhere, which I am sure will suit you and your rambles very well.
Whom you choose to marry is your affair, but you ought tohave told me! Mama thinks this house of yours will make you act above yourself, and it seems it is true. I should not have to find these things out from persons wholly unrelated to us! If you do not make me your bridesmaid, I am sure I shall never speak to you again.
Faithfully yours though little you deserve it,
Lydia
How was it that this news of her engagement-that-was-not-an-engagement had reached the regiment?It might be me who is in a scrape, she thought nervously.
It further gave her pause, the idea that Lydia thought Mr Hartham ‘not the marrying kind’. Not that Elizabeth herself had not had the same suspicions, but for Lydia to hear such a thing from the officers? What company was she keeping that they would speak of such things to a sixteen-year-old girl? Even her reference to the Prince Regent’s wife and his mistress—where had she learnt these things?
She felt guilty, knowing she had not been looking in on her sister as she ought to have been. Lydia was not directly under her care, to be sure, but neither was she under the care of anyone with any degree of good sense, and Elizabeth had promised her father that she would keep an eye on her. Further, she had herself heard that Mrs Forster was suspected to be with child and suffered frequent and intense illness along with that. Lydia was likely doing as she wished with absolutely no one to stop her or even know what she was about half the time.
No matter how one looked at it, a visit to her sister was unavoidable. The truth of the matter would need to be set straight and Lydia’s circumstances examined.
“All is well?” Mrs Gardiner asked worriedly. “She has not taken ill, has she?”
“No, no,” Elizabeth assured her. “All is well save for a bit of aggrievement that she has not received the attention that is her due. I ought to look in on her today though—to remind her that we are present and not insensible to her doings.”
“Would you like me to come?”
“No indeed. You stay here with the children. It seems they have grown quite mad for pebble-collecting, if the piles I keep finding are any indication.”
Her aunt chuckled. “If they had their way, we would take half of Brighton back to the City with us. In any case, they will be very happy that today’s excursion need not be delayed. And what are your plans? Will you go over to the house after you see Lydia?”
Elizabeth’s heart stuttered. Going to the house meant seeing Mr Darcy. She wanted to see him—desperately—but he had not called, and she knew not what it augured. The fear that he regretted their kiss and meant to avoid her rather than be held to account for it hovered about her mind like a rain cloud threatening a storm, and try as she might, she could not evade its shadow.
