The fire behind him burned low, casting a warm but restless light across the room, yet his thoughts refused the comfort it offered. He had imagined that distance from Hertfordshire would restore him to a proper indifference. Instead, he found that Elizabeth Bennet occupied his mind with a steadiness that neither reason nor resolution seemed able to dismiss. Whether this was a circumstance to be regretted or merely endured, he could not yet determine. But he was forced to acknowledge one truth with increasing clarity.
He had not thought of her for the last time.
Chapter 9
Christmas at Longbourn was not a time for introspection and reflection. The house was fuller than usual, the servants busier, and Mrs Bennet in such spirits as to render any quiet conversation nearly impossible. Lydia and Kitty had spent the greater part of the morning laughing over some new amusement connected with the officers, while Mrs Bennet alternated between indulgent laughter and mild protest that never lasted long enough to discourage them.
As she often did when Longbourn became too noisy, Elizabeth retreated toward the smaller sitting room that overlooked the winter garden. She had brought a book with her, which ought to have been a pleasant occupation for a winter day.
But she had not turned more than a few pages before her peaceful reverie was disturbed. Through the half-closed door came the sound of Lydia’s voice, bright with excitement and perfectly unconcerned with the possibility of being overheard. “I tell you itwill be the finest sport imaginable,” Lydia declared. “Only think how surprised they will be when they discover it.”
Kitty’s answering laugh followed immediately. “But Lydia, what if they should be angry?”
“Nonsense,” Lydia replied. “Officers never object to a little mischief. Colonel Forster himself said that soldiers must enjoy a joke wherever they find it.”
Elizabeth set her book down slowly. There was something in Lydia’s tone that made her pause, though she had long been accustomed to her sister’s carelessness and high spirits.
“What sort of joke?” Kitty asked.
“Oh, the cleverest thing,” Lydia said with a triumphant laugh. “We shall tell them that the colonel intends to call on them all early in the morning, and that every man who is not ready for inspection shall be fined a bottle of wine.”
Kitty laughed again. “But Lydia, that is dreadful.”
“It will be delightful,” Lydia insisted. “Mr Wickham himself said he wished there were more liveliness in Meryton. Only imagine how they will all run about when they hear it.”
Elizabeth rose quietly from her chair. At the mention of Wickham’s name, her patience, whichhad endured Lydia’s follies for many months, began to feel very thin indeed. She moved closer to the door without opening it further.
Kitty said, with some hesitation, “But if the colonel should discover it…”
“He will do no such thing,” Lydia replied confidently. “And if he does, we shall simply blame the officers themselves. Mr Wickham says they deserve it.”
At those words, Elizabeth felt the last of her composure vanish. It was not merely the prank itself, though that was foolish enough. It was Lydia’s tone of careless admiration, and Mr Wickham’s easy encouragement of it, that made the matter intolerable.
For several weeks, Elizabeth had struggled to believe that Mr Wickham might yet possess some portion of the upright character he had claimed for himself. Mr Darcy’s account had disturbed her deeply, but when Mr Bennet had declined to take action, it had seemed impossible that Elizabeth could do anything on her own.
Yet Lydia’s eager infatuation made the danger impossible to ignore.
She opened the door at last. Lydia and Kitty turned at once, both startled by her appearance.
“My dear Lizzy,” Lydia cried, “you must hearour plan. It will be the most excellent jest.”
“I have already heard enough of it,” Elizabeth replied calmly.
Kitty looked slightly uncomfortable, but Lydia only laughed. “You cannot object to a little amusement. Mr Wickham himself declared it would be admirable.”
Elizabeth met her sister’s bright expression with steady composure. “That recommendation ought to persuade you that Mr Wickham’s judgement is not sound, not that such a prank is suitable.”
Lydia tossed her head. “You only dislike my plan because you are jealous. You should like it of all things if Mr Wickham would pay as much attention to you.”
“Lydia, I assure you that is not the case,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Ididthink very well of Mr Wickham, once. But I cannot like it that he encourages you in such behaviour.”
Lydia merely laughed again and returned to her conversation with Kitty, perfectly unconcerned by the reproof.
Elizabeth stood there a moment longer, observing them with a mixture of concern and impatience that she did not trouble herself to disguise. At last, she left the room.
If her father would not act, and her mothercould not, someone must at least attempt to prevent Lydia from making a complete spectacle of herself.
Until now, Elizabeth had hoped that the danger might pass without intervention. After what she had just heard, she could not pretend it any longer. But if she were to attempt such a feat as protecting her foolish younger sisters and their unsuspecting neighbourhood from a danger they would hesitate to accept, she would need help.
