“I thought you liked Mr Wickham. Perhaps even suffered a slight infatuation.”
“So did you, when you first met the man,” Lydia accused.
“I did not,” Elizabeth protested, aghast.
“You surely looked at him a great deal.”
“That was because he paid me unsolicited attention. I was keeping an eye on him so that I could plan my escape if he were to approach me again.”
Lydia wrinkled her forehead. “Why did you avoid him? What attention?”
“It was not so much his attention as it was his debauched and sinful past, but he did ask importuning questions.”
“You knew what he was and did not tell me?” Lydia rose from her chair to pace in front of Elizabeth. “How could you?” she accused. “Look!” Lydia rolled up her sleeve and shoved her arm before Elizabeth’s face.
It was covered in bruises, finger marks to be exact. What a wretched sister she was. Why had she not informed Lydia about Wickham’s true nature? Because she did not trust Lydia, that was the truth. She did not believe Lydia would listen to her or even refrain from using the information in a nefarious scheme to wound Darcy.
Darcy had become her primary concern early in their acquaintance, at a cost to her family. Wretched, wretched mistake!
“Dear Lord! What has he done to you?” Elizabeth asked with foreboding simmering in her stomach. If Mr Wickham had hurt her sister, she would never forgive herself.
“He kissed me! Without my consent, I might add. He would have wanted more if I had not fought him with all my might. The rake now sports eight blood-red marks down his face from a hostile encounter with my nails. And I bit his lip, though he deserved much worse. Do you know how it feels to have such a precious gift taken away from you? No, I am sure you do not, but I do. Do not look so surprised—it does not become you, Lizzy. I do like to flirt. It flatters gentlemen’s vanity, and they like me. But that does not imply that I am a light-skirt who would give favours to all and sundry. Quite the contrary!”
“I am sorry, Lydia. I have failed you most grievously. I can only apologise and marvel at your aplomb. When did you become so wise? You have grown up before my eyes, but I have been dreadfully blind.”
“It has been some months since we have seen each other,” Lydia allowed graciously. “While you have been gadding about in London and showing your bottom to half theton,I have been to Brighton. My sojourn thither was educational.”
“How so?” Elizabeth enquired, dread still lingering in her stomach.
“Mrs Forster is dreadfully dull and not at all clever. She was a decent friend in Meryton, but once we entered the more varied society in Brighton, she lorded over me as if I were a child. The colonel cannot afford a lady’s maid, so she ordered me to fetch this and that. Her skills with a needle and thread are atrocious. I had to mend her hem after an officer had trodden upon her gown and ripped it. In fact, if not for Mrs Forster’s fortune, they would not have been able to rent a house. They would have been forced to live in the barracks. Have you ever visited barracks, Lizzy?”
“No, I have not.”
“Then let me apprise you. Even the colonels only have one small room, with no possibility to entertain. I could not live like that! I need society to be happy. An officer, with no additional funds, cannot provide for me. Oh no, I would much rather marry a gentleman with property, or even better, one with a title who has not already gambled away his fortune. Mr Wickham already owes more than a decade’s pay in IOUs and bills at various merchants in Brighton. Imagine if one counted what debts he left in Meryton, London, and all the other places he has visited.”
The images of a thin and weary Lydia flashed before her inner eye. Sitting in a small room in a threadbare gown with five or six hungry children tugging at her skirt, while Mr Wickham was losing his wages in a filthy gaming-hell.
“I am pleased to hear you speak so prudently. To jilt Mr Wickham is a wise decision, I am sure.”
“You need not act so high and mighty. I must say that the gossip I have read in the newspapers was most scandalous, and here I thought my sister was so very proper. One might even assert that I am more proper than you. I have not attended a ball with my bottom on display.” Lydia grinned, obviously finding the entire scandal highly entertaining.
“I can assure you, neither did I. Someone has been targeting me since we entered London’s society, making the most scandalous accusations, depicting me in the most embarrassing positions. It has been awful.”
“You must prove them wrong!”
“I would if it were possible. I have tried everything within my power, but nothing will change their opinion of me.”
“Then why do you not hie away to Pemberley? It is far enough from London to give you a respite from the jealous cats.”
“Mr Darcy does not want to admit defeat. These people are his family, friends, and acquaintances. Forfeit is not an alternative.”
“Oh dear, you have no hope of redemption. So, what do we do about my problem? Please, tell me it is not as dire as yours.”
“No. I shall think of something.”
“I shall accept my fate, as long as it is not marrying that rakish, dissolute Wickham. He smells of mould and tastes like cigars. I loathe the smell of tobacco, and now I know that I do not like the taste either.”
“You have my word, I promise you. I have failed you before, and I shall not do so again.”
