Chapter 59
“It is Lydia.” Elizabeth snapped the second she and Jane were alone, “I know it is Lydia. Something happened, and she knows what it was. You saw how she was at breakfast.”
“She did look unhappy.” Jane agreed softly. “They are not yet returned from town. When they do…”
Elizabeth nodded brusquely and quickly kissed her sister’s cheek. The soft scent of bergamot soothed her, as it always had. Jane was the only one who wore that particular scent, and Lizzie breathed it in like oxygen. She had no idea how she would have helped Georgiana on her own. Jane was the angel, not she. Love and health seemed to flow from her gentle embraces into Georgiana’s very soul.
Neither of the ladies ate luncheon that day. Their appetites were in wretched knots from their painful morning. Darcy and Fitzwilliam sat with Georgiana all afternoon, giving the ladies a chance to go to their own rooms and gather their thoughts. Elizabeth’s head was pounding so badly that she closed the curtains and laid down on the bed.
The sound of the carriage returning woke her up. Eyes flying open, she jumped out of bed and straightened her clothes as best she could. Strangely, there was no bright laughter or shrieks ofjoy, which usually signalled the end of a shopping trip for her younger sisters. Elizabeth twitched the curtain open and saw Kitty climbing out of the carriage with a sour look on her face. Lydia was a blur of one flapping cloak and two running feet as she sped into the house.
Elizabeth made it to the top of the staircase when Lydia arrived at the base.
“Lizzie!” the younger girl cried, “Oh, Lizzie, I have to speak with you.”
Lizzie’s heart pounded. She had not expected this; she had been anticipating a long string of denials and excuses. Her sister looked almost as wretched as Georgiana had. She beckoned and her sister flew up the stairs. They stared at each other for a moment, Lydia panting and pale, and then Elizabeth caught her sister’s arm and marched her into her bedroom.
“It’s about Miss Darcy.” Lydia gasped, throwing herself down onto the bed.
“Yes, I know.” Elizabeth growled, “Lydia, what did you do?”
“I? I! I did nothing! Nothing! It was… ugh, why do you look at me with such poison, Lizzie? I’ve been torturing myself all day trying to think of how to tell you, and you’re going to scold me before I even start!”
“Miss Darcy spent the day sobbing her eyes out.” Elizabeth snapped. Lydia bit her lip and then nodded.
“I… I did try to stop it, Lizzie. I told Miss Bingley to be nicer, but she shouted at me. She threatened me, the old shrew! She said that people would hate me, and that I was a child, and that I should play with my dolls. Dolls! Can you believe that, Lizzie? I haven’t so much as looked at a doll for these eighteen months at least!”
“I shall not talk to you of dolls, Lydia. Will you tell me what happened, or should my husband ask you instead?”
Lydia’s eyes widened and she let out a nervous giggle. “No! You cannot tell him, Lizzie.”
“You do not think he will want to know that you hurt his sister?”
“I? But I did not! I told you, it was Miss Bingley.”
With that protestation still fresh on her tongue, Lydia launched into her version of last night’s events. Elizabeth knew her sister well enough to recognise her exaggerations. She was horrified to find out that, in this instance, none were required. The story was awful enough without them. Nor did Lydia recite her speech with her usual elaborate gestures and pantomime of expressions. She was notenjoyingthis story, nor repeating it for the sake of gossip. She was genuinely ashamed.
Lydia stopped speaking abruptly. Elizabeth could not fill the silence; she honestly had nothing to say. Speechless, she stared at her younger sister in utter outrage.
It wasn’t Lydia’s fault. It was Caroline. All Caroline. Yet, her anger bubbled up regardless.
“Why did you keep this a secret?” Lizzie demanded, “You pranced off into town and left without saying a word!”
“I did not know how to tell you.” Lydia protested. Her voice was hoarse from her long story, but her eyes were lucid and sincere, “Lizzie, I wanted to… I promise. I was just so confused, and then after Miss Bingley left I was going to tell you, but you were late for breakfast and then Kitty rushed me off, and… oh Lizzie, you must believe me. Itried.”
“You tried a little.” Elizabeth conceded, “Not enough.”
“Would you rather I had held my tongue altogether?” Lydia demanded, her temper snapping, “I didn’t have to confess anything to you! I could have stayed in town for hours and hours, and never minded a bit that your precious Miss Darcy is upset. But I came back, didn’t I? With Kitty whining in my ear and hardly a shilling spent, rattling along in that blistering sun… and for what? So my high-and-mighty sister could tell me off?”
“No. No, I…” Elizabeth sighed and shook her head, feeling suddenly exhausted. “I am sorry, Lydia. I am glad you came to me. Itcouldhave been sooner, but… but it is better than nothing.”
“Much better,” Lydia sniffed, “Since you know that it was all Miss Bingley. She has gone to Chesterfield to find out what happened here. Her maid is a tricky one, always listening and whispering, and Miss Bingley thinks she can find out the truth.”
“In Chesterfield?” Elizabeth asked, surprised, “Nobody there knows anything about Georgiana. We have kept her condition a secret, as well as the cause of it.”
“Not very well, if you don’t mind me saying so. Well, I shall say it even if youdomind! Your servants aren’t all as loyal as that old housekeeper of yours, and there are lots of other people who know the estate. One of them must know…”
“They won’t.” Elizabeth interrupted, her cheeks going pink. “Nobody knows the whole story except Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Darcy, and they would never…”
