Jane’s brows knitted together slightly. “You mean to warn him?”
“I mean,” Elizabeth said, “to ensure that he understands Lydia’s situation clearly.”
Mary tilted her head. “What situation is that?”
Elizabeth spoke with deliberate calm. “ThatLydia Bennet possesses no fortune whatsoever.”
Jane could not help laughing softly at that. “That is certainly true.”
“And,” Elizabeth continued, “that she possesses a father and two uncles who care very much about her welfare.”
Mary nodded approvingly. “A most useful reminder.”
Jane looked thoughtful. “You believe he might be discouraged by such information?”
“I hope so,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “At least it will make our expectations perfectly clear.”
Mary sat back with a satisfied expression. “This is an excellent plan.”
Jane smiled at her, though she still looked a little worried. “It makes me dreadfully nervous to take part in anything so near a conspiracy. But I shall do my best, and I think that with some help from our friends and neighbours and a little good fortune, we may have every chance of success.”
Elizabeth rose from her chair. “Then we must each do our part.”
Mary stood as well. “I shall speak to Mr Greene.”
Jane gathered the flowers she had abandoned earlier. “And I shall speak to Hill.”
Elizabeth moved toward the door. “And I,” she said quietly, “shall speak to Mr Wickham.”
For a moment, the three sisters stood together in the small room. Elizabeth treasured the small moment of unity. Difference as they were in temperament and manner, there was a quiet sense of agreement between them that Elizabeth had rarely felt before.
Jane reached for Elizabeth’s hand. “We only wish to protect Lydia.”
“And our family,” Mary added firmly, grasping Elizabeth’s other hand.
Elizabeth looked at them both and smiled. “Yes,” she said. “And Meryton.”
The sisters stood hand-in-hand for a long moment, feeling the weight of responsibility and the fire of determination. None of the three were untouched by nervousness, but all were determined not to stand by and do nothing.
Elizabeth left the room with a sense of purpose that felt both unfamiliar and entirely necessary. She had often resolved to improve the world in small ways before, but seldom with such a clear and immediate object. Lydia’s laughter, which drifted faintly up the stairs even now, served as a constant reminder that delay would accomplish nothing.
If Wickham truly meant no harm, then herconversation with him would merely prove it.
And if not…
Elizabeth walked slowly toward the window at the end of the hall and looked out across the frost-covered lawn. The winter evening had grown dark, and the lamps in the village beyond the fields were appearing one by one.
She drew a steady breath.
Speaking to Mr Wickham would not be easy. His manners were too engaging, his confidence too easy, and she knew very well that he possessed a talent for persuasion which had already deceived many people.
But Elizabeth had one advantage he might not expect. She now knew enough of his history to doubt him.
Elizabeth lingered by the window a moment longer before turning back toward the hall. From the drawing room, Lydia’s laughter rose again, bright and careless, followed by Kitty’s eager agreement. Elizabeth paused with her hand resting lightly against the doorframe as Lydia declared that Mr Wickham had promised to show them a new game the officers played at Christmas.
“Only imagine how diverting it will be!” Lydia exclaimed.
Elizabeth allowed herself the faintest smile,though it carried more resolve than amusement. “Yes,” she murmured quietly to herself as she continued down the corridor, “I imagine it will be.”
