Lydia gave a laugh, but it was softer than usual. “There is so much to be done here, Uncle. You cannot imagine—so many men with wounds, so many children and wives without food, without hope. I have been helping Mrs. Hurley with the bandages and Major Hurley with the letters, and sometimes Ieven hold the babies while their mothers rest. It is not like Meryton at all.”
Elizabeth saw, with a pang, how her sister’s face shone when she spoke of these things. Lydia, who had once thought of nothing but ribbons and officers, now spoke with the conviction of someone who had found a purpose.
Mr. Gardiner, too, seemed to notice. “You have done well, Lydia. But you will do well at home, too. Your mother will rejoice to have you back. Your sisters will be so eager to hear your tales.”
Lydia’s smile faltered. She sat up, her hands twisting in her lap. “I—I do not wish to return, Uncle.”
The room fell silent. Elizabeth felt as if the air had been sucked away.
“I beg your pardon?” Mr. Gardiner said gently.
Lydia’s eyes were bright. “I do not belong in Meryton anymore. I cannot go back to a life of embroidery and dressing bonnets. The assemblies, teas when visiting neighbours—what are they, when you have seen what I have seen? There is work here that needs doing, and I am needed. Major Hurley has said that, if I wish it, I may stay under his guardianship. He will see to my safety and my conduct. He is Wellington’s intelligence officer, you know—quite respectable.”
Elizabeth stared at her sister, unable to speak. She longed for the sound of Jane’s sweet laugh and the warmth of her father’s study. But Lydia—her wild, reckless Lydia—looked suddenly older, her eyes fierce and pleading.
Mr. Gardiner sat beside Lydia, taking her hands in his. “My dear child,” he said softly, “this is not a decision to be made lightly. You are still sixteen, just seventeen next month. Your mother—”
“My mother will never understand,” Lydia said, her voice trembling. “She will say I am ruined, that I have brought shame, that I will never marry a respectable man. But I have been good,Uncle. I have worked hard. I have seen things that have changed me, and I cannot go back to pretending none of it matters.”
Elizabeth found her voice at last. “Lydia, are you quite certain? Spain is at war. You cannot know what dangers—”
“I know,” Lydia replied, and for a moment she looked so heartbreakingly young that Elizabeth wanted to gather her up and never let go. “But I am not afraid. Mrs. Hurley is kind, and she has promised to watch over me. I will write to you, Lizzy, and to Mama and Papa. But I cannot go back, not now.”
Mr. Gardiner was silent for a long moment. At last he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You are your father’s daughter, Lydia. Stubborn as a mule and twice as brave.” He looked at Elizabeth, his eyes full of sorrow and resignation. “I cannot force her, Lizzy. Not if her mind is truly made up.”
Elizabeth crossed the room and knelt before her sister. “Promise me you will write. Promise me you will take care, and that you will let the Hurleys know that they hold our trust—and our hopes for your future.”
Lydia nodded, tears spilling over at last. “I promise. I will make you proud, Lizzy. I can only hope that Mama will one day understand.”
Mr. Gardiner embraced them both, and for a moment, in that little room above a Spanish street, they were simply family—lost, found, torn apart and made whole again, if only for a moment.
* * *
Chapter 16
Longbourn
The weather in the Bay of Biscay was unusually fine, and the packet from Porto made excellent time; barely seven days after leaving Portugal, it moored at Mr. Gardiner’s wharf near London Bridge. They spent just the one night at Gracechurch Street, where all the effusions of joy between Elizabeth and her aunt Gardiner at her safe return need scarcely be related.
There was no time for Elizabeth to compose herself before they were, at the earliest hour, on the road to Longbourn. There had been little point in sending an express, as Mr. Bennet spared no expense of frequent changes of the horses, and they arrived at the house just before noon. Elizabeth jumped out and hurried into the vestibule, where Jane, who came running downstairs from her mother’s apartment, immediately met her.
“Oh, Elizabeth,” cried Jane, affectionately embracing her sister, while tears filled the eyes of both. “You are safe; it is so wonderful to have you at Longbourn.”
“You look well, Jane,” said Elizabeth, though she noted a certain melancholy in her sister’s countenance. Clearly, Jane still repined Mr. Bingley’s absence from Netherfield. Elizabeth had not thought of it, but she was disappointed the man had not returned—a situation which she attributed to his sisters’ interference, for he had shown such attention to Jane at his ball, she could hardly deny his interest in taking their relationship to its natural and rightful conclusion.
“I am well,” said Jane, “but am so much more in spirits now that you are here.”
“And Mama—how is she? How are you all?”
“Our mother is tolerably well, I trust; though her spirits were greatly shaken when Uncle Gardiner wrote that Lydia was staying in Spain. She is upstairs, and will have great satisfaction in seeing you. She does not yet leave her dressing-room. Mary and Kitty, thank Heaven! are quite well.”
Elizabeth smiled, pressing Jane’s hand warmly. “Let us go to her at once. I long to see everyone together again, and to assure Mama that I am quite unharmed.”
They ascended the stairs quietly, the house unusually still. Elizabeth’s heart beat faster as she approached her mother’s chamber. As Jane softly pushed open the door, Mrs. Bennet’s anxious face appeared from behind a handkerchief.
“My dear child! My poor Lizzy!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, opening her arms as Elizabeth hurried to embrace her. “What dreadful anxiety we have been in! I have not slept a wink since you left Brighton, and your uncle’s letter was enough to give me the vapours for a fortnight. Oh, how you have tried us all!”
Elizabeth kissed her mother’s cheek. “You must not distress yourself, Mama. I am come home quite safe, and so very glad to be with you again.”
