“I did, and now the long, wearying march has been entirely worthwhile, to see your beautiful smile at the end of it.” Wickham picked up her hand and kissed it gallantly. “How are you enjoying Brighton, Miss Bennet?”
“Oh, very well,” she said, “though we have been quite dull waiting for you to arrive. Mrs Forster does not really know anyone, you see.”
“No doubt the colonel will be eager to rectify that matter. He has talked of little but his anticipation of their reunion, and his plans to show her off at every social event in Brighton.”
Lydia just hoped she was also to be included in those plans. Smiling coquettishly up at Wickham, she cooed; “You will dance with me everywhere, won’t you, Wicky darling? I shan’t know a soul...”
He laughed heartily. “Miss Bennet, you are a beautiful, single woman in a town overrun by the army. Generals and colonels will queue up to reserve your dances; you will have no time for a mere lieutenant.”
“I will always have time for you. Who cares for old, fuddy-duddy generals and colonels anyway?” Lydia wrinkled her nose, thinking that she would far rather dance with a handsome young officer like Wickham than some old man. How Harriet Forster tolerated her husband’s attentions was quite beyond her. “The first dance at every event we both attend, Wicky. I insist upon it.”
He looked amused, but bowed acquiescence. “As you wish, Miss Bennet.”
“La, do stop calling me that; you make me feel old and fuddy-duddy!” Laying her hand on his arm, she fluttered her eyelashes at him. “My name is Lydia, as you well know.”
“Indeed. May I bring you some tea, Lydia? I see Mrs Forster is pouring.”
Lydia reflected, as she watched Wickham walk away and two of her other officer friends descended to greet her, that it was very nice not to have to share their attention. Especially with Jane and Lizzy not here for all the officers to be sneaking glances at. While Lydia knew she was pretty enough to attract plenty of favourable attention, Jane was extraordinarily beautiful, and Lizzy had an indefinable quality about her which seemed to draw all men’s eyes.
Indeed, the very first question Captain Carter asked was about the health of her sisters, and Lydia ground her teeth. Was she always destined to be last? Just once in her life, she wanted to befirst, in a man’s attention, insomething.
Spotting Harriet Forster holding court across the room, Lydia thought how nice it would be to be married before any of her sisters. To a handsome officer in a red coat, of course.
Harriet was just then handing Wickham a cup, with a teasing smile and a laugh. Wickham smiled perfunctorily in return before looking around and catching Lydia’s eye on him. His smile widened, and he winked.
Emboldened, Lydia winked back. Wickham had never been quite as responsive to her flirting as some of the others – he’d spent far too much time gazing wistfully at Lizzy, in Lydia’s opinion, and then courted Mary King – but he was looking at her now as though she was the most fascinating woman of his acquaintance.
Ignoring Carter and the faithful Denny, she walked away from them to meet Wickham in the middle of the room. He placed her teacup tenderly into her hands, their fingers brushing, and even through her thin gloves she felt the heat of his skin.
Lydia had long since learned to blush on cue, and she did so now, lowering her lashes and peeping prettily up at Wickham.George, she thought. It was a nice name. A regal name. How well they should sound together, Lieutenant and Mrs. Wickham!
