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Mary carefully peeled back the brown paper, her fingers brushing the crisp, dry cover. “Do you intend that this copy shall also end in a puddle, sir?”

“No. I shall be very careful that it does not. I wished to read it as well, since you value it so highly.”

Mary looked up, surprised, a slight warmth rising in her cheeks. “Indeed? I was under the impression you had little stomach for moral essays.”

“Perhaps not usually,” Mr. Lucas admitted, a teasing glint in his eye as he stepped closer to the hearth. “But I am willing to be educated. I look forward to learning the valuable lessons in morality contained within, if only to understand what keeps your mind so thoroughly occupied.”

“Then I shall expect a full report of your thoughts when you have finished it,” she replied, her lips twitching into a genuine smile.

As they crossed to the fireplace, Mr. Lucas paused, glancing between the two chairs. One of the chairs was rather worn, having needed new upholstery for as long as he could remember. The other seat, nearer the fire, was much finer and plumper.

“Here,” he said, gesturing to the latter chair. “You will want the warmer one. The fire has not been lit for long.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. She always was cold whenever the air was damp in the autumn. Both settled near the hearth, preferring its warmth to the cooler side of the room where Charlotte sat, deeply engaged in the tale of The Peasant in the Forest.

Before more than five minutes had passed, Mr. Lucas rang the bell for a servant. Mary looked up as one appeared, and Mr. Lucas ordered tea to be brought, along with lemon and honey besides the regular cream and sugar.

“Thank you, sir,” said she with a slight smile as he sat down. “You remembered how I take my tea.”

“I suppose I have seen you take it a few times over the years.” He returned her smile, then glanced out the window at the blowing leaves. The curtain twitched from the breeze.

With a slight frown, he crossed to it and pulled it closed against the draught before returning to his seat. Immediately, the room felt more comfortable.

Thus, an hour passed pleasantly as the three occupants of the library took tea and read their books. They might have spent longer in this manner, had a servant not arrived to tell Mary that her sister was awake.

Mary closed her volume with a sigh as she stood. “A little quiet is a very good thing, but now I am afraid that I must go to Lydia. She will require assistance.”

Mr. Lucas rose immediately, as did Charlotte. “Of course,” he said, offering a polite bow. “I shall inform the coachman to have the carriage brought round for your journey home, so that it is ready when you and Mrs. Bennet descend.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mary replied, carefully picking up her wrapped book.

“I hope you find the volume entirely to your satisfaction, Miss Mary,” he added with a pleasant but perfectly correct smile.

Mary offered her thanks to both Charlotte and Mr. Lucas for their hospitality before hurrying upstairs. Soon, Lydia was dressed, the farewells were properly concluded, and they were in the Lucases’ carriage on the road back to Longbourn.

Elizabeth had been anxiously awaiting her sisters’ and mother’s return, and was much relieved to hear Mr. Hill speaking with them. She noted, upon reaching them, that although she looked rather weary, Lydia did not seem to have suffered too much from her indulgences.

“And she was not able to see off the officers!” Mrs. Bennet was complaining to Kitty and Mrs. Ellington.

“Perhaps that is for the best,” said Mrs. Ellington, looking over the girl. “You seem rather fatigued still, Miss Lydia.”

“I am not fatigued,” she answered. “My head aches, though.”

“That is often the case after too much wine. Hill, pray, bring a vinaigrette and a cool cloth to the sitting room,” Mrs. Ellington said, leading Lydia away from the others.

“The prodigal daughter returns, although unrepentant, it seems,” offered Mr. Bennet as he entered the room.

“Mr. Bennet! How can you be so unfeeling?” asked his wife. “Lydia has suffered greatly.”

“Indeed, as one usually does after too much drink. I shall go with her to the sitting room, and Mrs. Bennet, you shall as well.”

Mrs. Bennet reluctantly followed her husband to the sitting room. Within, their youngest daughter sat sipping a cup of tea while Mrs. Ellington reproved her for her actions the previous evening.

“I shall take over the scolding now, Mrs. Ellington, if you do not mind,” said Mr. Bennet with a nod of thanks to his cousin.

“Of course, cousin,” she responded, quietly retreating from the room, hoping that her cousin would serve some consequences to the young lady.

Once the door closed, Mr. Bennet turned to his youngest daughter with a wry smile. “It seems, Lydia, that you made quite the impression at Lucas Lodge, or so my cousin and your sisters tell me.”