“Yes, she must leave London, but to what destination?” Darcy agreed.
“A sojourn by the sea might do her good—Brighton, perhaps. I am to be stationed there for several months; I could accompany you both, and you would have the advantage of my company as well as a wholesome change of air for Georgiana.”
* * *
The militia had left Meryton for Brighton, and though Elizabeth felt all the pleasure of not having to be embarrassed by Kitty’s and Lydia’s flirting when they visited town, she admitted that society had lost much of its enjoyment. They were reduced to the neighbourhood’s four and twenty families, and the want of diversion, which had been provided in part by the Netherfield party and the pleasant conversation of the officers, was sorely missed. The misery of Kitty and Lydia was extreme, and they could not comprehend the indifference displayed by Jane and Elizabeth. The former, who still felt an attachment to Bingley, held herself in check lest she repine at his absence too much;though Mrs. Bennet would continue to say almost every day that he had used Jane extremely ill.
Elizabeth, meanwhile, found herself equally torn between relief at the quieter days and a restlessness she could not fully explain. There were walks to be taken, letters to write, and the household to attend to, but these duties offered only partial distraction. She missed Charlotte’s company—for Mr. Collins had indeed proposed, been accepted, and the happy couple had returned to the rectory at Hunsford.
Mrs. Bennet’s lamentations over Bingley were now matched by her complaints of the dullness of the neighbourhood. She enumerated, with growing exasperation, the deficiencies of every local family for want of better company. Even Mr. Bennet, usually content with his books and solitude, seemed to notice the increased monotony and was observed to sigh more frequently over his newspaper; though, more likely, he was reacting to the lamentations resounding perpetually throughout Longbourn manor.
As for Lydia, her mind was wholly fixed on Brighton, and she began, from the very morning of the regiment’s departure, to lay schemes for joining them there. Kitty, though not as bold as her younger sister, was easily led and professed herself quite miserable at the thought of being left behind. Their constant plotting and whispered consultations were a source of both amusement and vexation to the rest of the household, and Elizabeth, observing her mother’s blind encouragement, felt a new anxiety for her family’s future.
The storm broke when Lydia received an invitation from Harriet, the wife of the Colonel Forster, to attend her in Brighton, for she declared she so much missed Lydia’s company that she could not bear to live another day without her companionship. Lydia was ecstatic, while Kitty was peeved, asshe felt, being the older, that she should go to Brighton rather than her sister.
With some anxiety Elizabeth addressed Mr. Bennet as to the inadvisability of allowing Lydia to go. That Mrs. Forster was barely older than Lydia, and certainly could not act as a suitable chaperone—that the temptations for Lydia in Brighton must be greater than at home. He heard her attentively, then asked,
“Tell me, Lizzie, I do trust your instincts. Is there anything you can tell me that would make me reconsider her going?”
“Sir, you know that I have little knowledge of our family’s future, that my gift does not extend to my sisters, nor to yourself or Mrs. Bennet. But there is something that I cannot grasp, perhaps not a great wrong, more like a cloud that gathers on the horizon. Whether it bespeaks rain, or merely a passing shower, that I cannot tell.”
Mr. Bennet laughed. “Can you see me deny Lydia’s pleasure, or your mother’s expectations, merely because of a little rain? Surely, we have weathered more discomfort here at Longbourn. We survived the militia, and, I daresay, Lydia will likewise survive Brighton.”
“Excuse me, father,” said Elizabeth passionately. “Lydia has exuberant spirits; currently she is a determined flirt, without any attraction beyond youth and boldness. Jane and I have tried to guide her, but our mother appears ignorant that both Lydia and Kitty are vain, idle, and often uncontrolled. Indeed, on more than one occasion, I have been forced to apologise or defend their behaviour. And that is in our own neighbourhood, where our neighbours take little offence at their improprieties.”
“Do not make yourself uneasy, dearest. I had considered the points you raise and approached Colonel Forster, who is a sensible man, to keep Lydia out of real mischief. He is aware his wife is but young. Then he made a suggestion I should consider. It appears that the neighbourhood’s respect for you and Jane,and yourself in particular, had come to his notice. He suggested that it would be a great benefit if you could accompany Lydia and Mrs. Forster to Brighton.”
“Me? Why ever should I wish to do that? Surely you did not suggest that I act as a companion to Mrs. Forster, though I daresay it would be to her favour?”
“Not at all, Lizzie. It would be to accompany her as a friend, and also as the sister of Lydia. You may not realise it, but Meryton has become too dependent on your presence. Each day, you see to the cottagers and tenants, not just those of Longbourn, but of the other estates as well. You also visit the families of those in trade—the baker, butcher, blacksmith. I could name them all. Often, I see them waiting for you to make their decisions for them; though I know yours is an ability to guide, rather than proclaim the future. No, Lizzie, it is time they saw a future without your presence in Meryton. They cannot repine, for the town has grown prosperous—indeed, their investments can only grow in value. There is little need for your intervention—and if a child should fall from a tree, or a cow become lost in the woods, let them sort it themselves.”
With this, Elizabeth was forced to be content; but she knew he was right, that it was time to let the neighbourhood take responsibility for their own families, their own futures. Though she did not relish the prospect, she would accompany Lydia to Brighton.
“I do not see why Lizzie should go to Brighton,” Kitty protested. “She’s not even a friend of Mrs. Forster—why, I’ve hardly seen them speak. I have just as much right to go, if not more, since I’m nearer her age.”
“Well, my dear,” Mr. Bennet said gently. “It was not Mrs. Forster who requested Lizzie to attend her; Colonel Forster, aware that his wife was full young, preferred an older lady to accompany them. His duties will take him away for much of thetime, and Lizzie, though not a companion, has agreed to act as chaperone for both Mrs. Forster and Lydia. It may be unusual for a married woman to need such oversight, but Colonel Forster understands the importance of propriety. Lizzie is nearly of age, and I trust her sense more than that of a young woman barely out of the schoolroom, married or not.”
Lydia was rather put out that her elder sister would accompany her, for she had wished to escape the constraints she knew Elizabeth would impose upon her behaviour. Moreover, Mr. Bennet had declared that after Colonel Forster, Lydia was to obey Elizabeth’s instructions as though they were his own.
“But what fun is that,” she complained, but the risk of remaining at home, and the allure of Brighton, were sufficient to rein in her complaints, and she began to plan how she would enjoy society in Brighton without so much as a thought of Lizzie’s censure. She was sure that once Elizabeth had tasted the delights of a town filled with officers, she, her sister, would rapidly come to the same opinion as Lydia herself: that there could be no better way to pass the summer than dancing and promenading with the handsomest of young men, and, perchance, to attract the attention of the Regent himself.
* * *
Chapter 8
Brighton
Elizabeth’s first impression of Brighton was that it looked exactly as Lydia had imagined: noisy, sunny, and utterly devoid of seriousness. Lydia, of course, was in raptures before their carriage even reached the town, her face pressed to the window, exclaiming over every bonnet and red coat that flashed past.
Their party—Elizabeth, Lydia, and Harriet—had taken refreshment in Highgate, then the turnpike to Croydon, where Colonel Forster had arranged rooms at the Crown. The next morning they resumed their journey using the road to Crawley and then on to Brighton. They found themselves occupying a pleasant lodging house in North Street, with a view—at least from the upper windows—of the sea, though a sea mist and lengthening shadows gave little promise of Neptune’s delights. Such would wait for morning.
It had been a long day—some fifty miles—with four changes of horses, and Elizabeth firmly opposed their visiting the officers’ mess that evening, even though Colonel Forster had invited them. They took a light dinner, removed briefly to the parlour, and when both Harriet and Lydia began to yawn, retired gratefully to their chambers. There were three bedrooms, with Lydia and Elizabeth to share.
Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the persistent cries of gulls and the clatter of carts in the street below. For a moment, she could almost believe herself in some foreign port. Lydia was already up, bustling about the room with a vigour that suggestedshe had barely slept at all. She was humming a tune Elizabeth did not recognise, pinning up her hair with an air of anticipation.
“Lizzy, do make haste! Harriet is already waiting, and if we do not go soon, the officers will be called to their duties!” Lydia’s words tumbled over one another in her eagerness. She darted to the window, pulling back the curtain with a flourish. The sea, at last, revealed itself—blue and glittering in the morning sun; several ships lay at anchor, and the brown sails of the fishing fleet heading along the coast, taking advantage of the north-easterly breeze.
Elizabeth sat up, blinking at the sudden brightness. She could not help but smile at her sister’s enthusiasm, though she felt herself already a little weary at the prospect of a day spent among the crowds Lydia anticipated with great delight. Yet she was determined to enjoy what she could of Brighton, for Lydia’s sake if not her own.
