Lady Catherine’s lips twitched. “She entertained me more than anyone has in quite some time,” she admitted. “I cannot like it, Darcy. But of the two matches... I think she would make you happier than the silly little sister will make Fitzwilliam.”
“Give Miss Lydia a chance,” Darcy counselled. “I think she might surprise you, once she has had a chance to grow up a little.”
“We shall see,” Lady Catherine said, a little ominously, and then she squeezed his arm. “Think carefully before you commit yourself, nephew. See this hasty marriage of Fitzwilliam’s done first, and consider your options.”
It was the wisest advice his aunt had ever given him, and Darcy watched her walk away with a thoughtful frown furrowing his brow. What would Lady Catherine have said, he wondered, if he had confessed to his ill-fated proposal at Easter? With a wry smile, he turned back towards the church, looking for his cousin and the Bennet family. Mrs Bennet was chatting cosily with Lady Carshalton, the lady giving Mrs Bennet advice about where the best modistes were in Brighton to order wedding clothes.
“Oh no,” Mrs Bennet declared, loud enough for half the street to hear, “not for my dear girl; she is marrying the son of an earl! Only the finest modistes inLondonwill do for her trousseau!”
“London,” Lydia giggled, her eyes starry. “I have wanted to see London above all things.”
Darcy winced, but only a little. Had not Georgiana said almost exactly the same thing, with that exact look in her eyes, when he had suggested a holiday at Ramsgate for her? And look how that had turned out. Girls of that age were apt to be a little silly, and his advice to his aunt was sensible - they must wait and see how Lydia turned out, once she had the benefit of some time under wiser mentors than Mrs Bennet.
