“What am I to do now?”
She sounded so small and lost that Fitzwilliam could not help but pity her. On one of their walks, Lydia had confided that she was only just sixteen years old, and after all, he knew another teenage girl who had been taken in by Wickham’s good looks and smooth charm.
“I take it you sneaked out of Forster’s house?”
Lydia nodded, not lifting her face to look at him.
“Then all we must do is sneak you back in unseen, and nobody will be the wiser. I will make sure Wickham’s mouth stays closed on the matter, never fear.”
There was a little catch in Lydia’s voice as she whispered “Thank you.”
Hell’s teeth, was she crying?He never could bear to see a woman cry.
“He isn’t what you thought he was, Lydia.” Fitzwilliam tried to make his voice gentle as he placed an arm around her shoulders and steered her from the inn yard back onto the street. “I know Wickham of old. Whatever tale of woe he has spun to make you think well of him, I assure you it is entirely fabricated.”
Lydia’s head was bent, and small sniffles sounded from inside her hood. She was clutching a carpet-bag, Fitzwilliam noticed as it banged on his shin, and he reached down to take it from her hand.
“Let me carry this for you. There, we’ll soon have you safe in your bed.”
“Ho, Fitzwilliam!” a loud voice called then, and he cursed under his breath, feeling Lydia stiffen and shrink against him. “Found yourself a ladybird?”
It was Major Adams, the second son of a duke, and several of his equally well-born cronies. Despite his own lofty birth, Fitzwilliam had never found himself to have much in common with them, though by necessity he was careful not to offend.
“Let’s see the beauty who can tempt the saint,” Adams said jeeringly, approaching them. Fitzwilliam stepped in front of Lydia.
“I’ll thank you to leave the lady be,” he said coolly.
“Ooh, alady,“ Adams eyed Lydia’s cloak, certainly of a finer cut and fabric than anything a doxy might sport. “Whatladywould be out at this hour of the night?“ His sneer was disbelieving.
“What’s this, then?”
Another voice came from behind them, and Fitzwilliam sent up a silent prayer to the heavens to just get him and Lydia out of the situation without her identity being revealed. He could stand a little gossip; her reputation could not.
“It’s General Lewes!” Lydia’s soft gasp reached his ears.
Unsure whether the general’s arrival would prove to be providential or disastrous, Fitzwilliam turned and saluted.
“Good evening, sir.”
“I see you’re back from London,” Lewes said with a nod. “Deliver your messages already, hm?”
“Yes, sir, I was just heading for my quarters when I encountered the lady here having a spot of bother and decided to escort her home.” Fitzwilliam kept his voice low and accompanied his words with a hopeful look at the general, who eyed him thoughtfully before looking at Lydia, who had the sense to keep her hood pulled as low as possible.
Unfortunately, they now had their backs to Adams, who was clearly in his cups, and he took the opportunity to sneak up on them and yank Lydia’s hood down. Glossy brown curls tumbled free and several gasps went up as some of the officers recognised her.
“That’s Miss Bennet!”
“Sneaking around with your ladylove now, Fitzwilliam?” Adams recovered from his surprise. “We knew you were courting her, but...”
“That will do,” General Lewes said loudly, and the whispers died down. “Miss Bennet,” he addressed Lydia directly, “I know how eager you were for your fiancé‘s return, but you should not have come out to greet him at this hour.”
There was utter silence for a long moment, and then Lydia said meekly, “I’m very sorry, sir.”
“Fiancé!” Adams gaped.
“You will keep that silent, Adams. Miss Bennet’s father has not yet given his blessing, though I do not doubt it will shortly be forthcoming. Now, Miss Bennet, I will escort you home, and all you rabble will be off to your beds. Good night.”
Such was the command in the old general’s tone that everyone took an immediate step back, and then they were bowing and making hasty farewells.
