The five miles from Pemberley to the Rose and Crown took much longer than either she or Darcy had anticipated. The earlier pounding rain had turned bitter cold and become icy. Small pellets were accumulating in the ditches and on the dried grassy patches. The temperature had dropped quickly, and a thin layer of ice skimmed the tops of the mud holes.
Darcy kept the information to himself, not wishing to alarm Elizabeth, but he could not remember conditions ever changing so suddenly.The coach’s wheels still easily broke the icy crusts over the brown puddles, but if they had to wait long for Mrs.Wickham’s coach, the return trip could be a different story. Instead of sitting across from Elizabeth in the rear-facing seat he usually occupied, Darcy chose to sit beside her—to keep her warmer and to protect her if Mr. Stalling lost control of the coach.
Adam Lawrence’s temper rose quickly. He and Cathleen had made it to Lambton’s inn, but found it full because of the quickly deteriorating road conditions. “And where do you suggest I find a room for the evening?” he demanded in his best aristocratic voice.
“I am most apologetic,Your Lordship.”The innkeeper mopped his brow.“I have already doubled people in rooms. I suppose that I could convince some of our more esteemed citizens to offer you a room, my Lord.” Cautiously, the man shot a glance at Cathleen. “I might have more difficulty convincing them to also accept your cousin.”
Adam hissed, “So you would send my cousin and me back out into the storm?”
“I would not wish to do so, Your Lordship.” However, before the innkeeper could continue his back-door apology, Darcy and Elizabeth entered to look for Lydia Wickham. Leaving Adam with a swallowed curse still on his lips, Mr. Lawill quickly greeted Darcy. Most of those in town depended on Pemberley directly or indirectly for their well-being.The inhabitants of a small market town knew to whom they owed allegiance.
“Mr. Darcy, sir,” the man said as he offered a bow, “how may I serve you?” The first time Elizabeth had stayed at this inn, she had discovered Darcy’s true value. Now, entering on his arm, she appreciated how people admired and respected him.The locals knew her husband to be a liberal man, one who did much good among the poor, and they rushed to meet his needs.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Lawill.We were to meet Mrs. Darcy’s sister on the afternoon coach.” Darcy purposely did not refer to Lydia Bennet Wickham by her name. He wished to keep the memory of her husband, George Wickham, at a psychological distance. The man had left a trail of bad debts in the area when he had suddenly left Pemberley with three thousand pounds, a pecuniary advantage in lieu of the preferment of taking his orders. Like so many other times, Darcy had covered the debts rather than have the Pemberley name besmirched by association.
“Mr. Buckley deposited his passengers thirty minutes ago, sir. I am at my wit’s end trying to find accommodations for all the travelers the storm has driven our way.”
Elizabeth touched Darcy’s arm.“I will see to Lydia,” she whispered.
Darcy nodded before returning his attention to the innkeeper. “You will prevail, Mr. Lawill.” Then Darcy’s eyes fell on Viscount Stafford, a man he knew casually through his cousin Charles Fitzwilliam, Edward’s older brother and the future Earl of Matlock. “Stafford, fancy meeting you on this side of Leicestershire,” he called as he stepped around Lawill to greet the viscount.
“Darcy!” Adam Lawrence offered a bow before extending his hand. “I had forgotten of your being in Derbyshire.”
They exchanged a few pleasantries before reaching the situation’s crux.“I was to go to Cheshire.” Lawrence glanced quickly to where Cathleen stood watching the storm out the window. “My cousin rushes to her uncle’s beside at her family’s request.” Adam guided Darcy to the side where others could not hear. “However, the storm has delayed us, and now we find no rooms available. I suppose I will have Mr. Johnson press on.”
“That would be unwise,” Darcy insisted. “The rain has frozen. I do not imagine even the best coachman could traverse another twenty miles without incident. And who is to say that you would not find a similar development there?”
Lawrence took in Cathleen’s profile.“What do you suggest I do, Darcy? I cannot abandon the lady. It would be unfair to leave her to the locals’ censure. Mr. Lawill has already expressed his displeasure. Even if I chose to accept the hospitality of one of Lambton’s citizens, no one would extend Miss Donnel such a courtesy. If it were for but one evening, she and I could simply spend the night at Mr. Lawill’s tables, but you and I both know the conditions of country roads.We will be lucky to be here less than three days.”
Darcy thought about what he should do. Propriety demanded that he extend an invitation to Stafford but, like Lambton’s citizens, he could not take the viscount’s mistress to his own home. “Unfortunately, Stafford, my aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her daughter are at Pemberley, and my sister…” Darcy felt the shame of being inhospitable.
Adam pleaded,“But if Miss Donnel plays the part of my cousin? The lady is an actress. I will stay away from her, Darcy—be the perfect gentleman—and charm your aunt and your sister.”
Darcy snapped, “You will avoid my sister, Lord Stafford.” He glanced at the woman waiting patiently by the window.“If I extend what society demands, you will create a story through which even my aunt will not see. I will allow this, Stafford, but if Miss Donnel cannot play the role, I will claim that I was deceived by you and turn you out, no matter what the conditions. Miss Donnel will be a lady, and you will act a gentleman’s part around my wife, my sister, my family, and my staff.”
“My reputation precedes me,” Lawrence murmured.
Darcy spoke in hushed tones.“I do not wish to offend you, Stafford. I barely know you, and under normal circumstances, I would gladly open my door to you at any time. As my cousin Matlock’s friend, I owe you as much.Yet, I have a sister to whom I serve as guardian, and I will not have her exposed to your arrangement with Miss Donnel. You may assume me full of pride and full of prejudice, but I will protect Georgiana.”
Adam Lawrence stared at Darcy. Despite his seething anger, Lawrence could not help but respect Fitzwilliam Darcy for his vision and his sense of purpose. The man knew his place in the world—knew his duty.Adam had always wanted that type of confidence. His own confidence was no more than bravado.“Miss Donnel and I will be decorum’s models, sir.You have my word on it.”
“Then explain things to the lady while I speak to Mrs. Darcy and her sister.” Darcy moved away, leaving the viscount to do what he had promised.
Elizabeth had rushed from Darcy’s side, trying to locate Lydia and tone down her sister’s “welcome” before she said something offensive to Darcy. From the time she had finally realized the perfect goodness of the man who loved her, Elizabeth had done all she could to shield him from the frequent vulgarity of her family.
“Lyddie.” Elizabeth approached her sister from behind. “There you are—.”
Before Elizabeth could finish her sentence, Lydia had her in her embrace. “Oh, Lizzy, it has been so long!”
And despite all those little private moments in which Elizabeth had dreaded welcoming the wife of Darcy’s worst enemy as a guest in their home, Elizabeth rejoiced. Her family, even her dearest sister, Jane, was in Hertfordshire, and she missed them desperately. Having Lydia before her increased Elizabeth’s loneliness, but it also appeased it at the same time.
“Lydia,” she said, her eyes welling with tears.They hugged for a long moment. When she released the girl, Elizabeth said, “Let me look at you. Oh, my, you are growing up.”
“Of course I am, Lizzy,” Lydia declared, dismissing her older sister’s sentimentality. “I am a married woman.”
Elizabeth caught Lydia’s arm. “Let us return to Pemberley. My husband worries for the roads. I fear that you came to us just as Winter offers her worst. Mr. Darcy speaks to Mr. Lawill. Come along.”
“But I cannot leave Mr.Worth and Mrs.Williams.” Lydia planted her feet and refused to budge. “I told them that Mr. Darcy would not allow them to sleep on the floor. Surely they can come to Pemberley with us.”
Elizabeth put more pressure on her sister’s arm, trying to maneuver the girl away from the man and woman seated nearby. “Lydia, you cannot simply invite people to Mr. Darcy’s home,” she hissed under her breath.
A little too loudly, Lydia announced, “Your husband, Lizzy, has always been …most disagreeable. He would leave my friends here. I am your sister, and he is so high and so conceited that he would—”
“Would what, Mrs. Wickham?” Darcy’s voice came from behind them.
Elizabeth whirled to see him standing there. Immediately, she tightly grasped Lydia’s arm, smiling politely all the while. “Apologize,” she quietly warned her sister while pasting a smile on her face. She realized the whole inn watched them.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy,” Lydia bubbled as if nothing had happened. “I am so pleased to see you again.” She wrenched her arm from Elizabeth’s grasp before dropping a quick curtsy.
Elizabeth walked casually to where Darcy stood and slipped her arm through his.“It seems, Fitzwilliam, that Lydia has made friends with her two traveling companions. I was just about to extend an invitation to Pemberley to Mr.Worth and Mrs.Williams, as we certainly could not have them sleeping on Mr. Lawill’s common room floor.” She smiled up at him, but her eyes told Darcy that she did not like the situation any better than he.
“Certainly, Elizabeth.” Darcy dramatically brought the back of her hand to his lips, demonstrating to all eyes their devotion. “Let us meet Mrs.Wickham’s new friends.”
Lydia liked the idea of having gotten her way with Mr. Darcy. It might, she mused, bode well for her convincing him to use his influence to help Wickham. Perhaps she could save her marriage to George Wickham.“Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, may I present Mrs. Evelyn Williams, the widow of Admiral Samuel Williams. Mrs.Williams, this is my sister Elizabeth Darcy and her husband, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Mrs. Williams stood during the introduction. She immediately acknowledged the Darcys with a proper curtsy. Then she thanked them for their charity.
“It is our pleasure, Mrs.Williams,” Elizabeth said.
“And this is Mr. Nigel Worth,” Lydia pronounced.
“Mr.-Mr. Worth,” Darcy stammered, having recognized the man and wondered why he traveled with Wickham’s wife. “You are welcome as well, sir.”
“Your graciousness speaks well of you, Mr. Darcy.”Worth bowed to both the Darcys.
Darcy turned to Elizabeth. “It seems that I, too, have extended an invitation to Pemberley. An associate of my cousin Charles finds himself on his way to Cheshire.Viscount Stafford will inherit Greene Hall in Leicestershire. I have asked him and his cousin Miss Donnel to join us. They had been traveling to the bedside of an uncle, but now, like all these others, they must seek shelter from the storm. Mr. Lawill has no more accommodations.”
“Of course, Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth recognized Darcy’s half-truths. His tone always told her when her husband asked her to read between the lines. “We shall have a merry household.”
“Let us retrieve everyone’s luggage, Elizabeth? We must return to our home.”
She released his arm. “I will ask Mr. Lawill’s man to help with the trunks. Might Mr.Worth ride with Viscount Stafford? It would make things more comfortable.”
“I will speak to His Lordship.” Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s hand before walking away. His wife—his incomparable Elizabeth—a woman he had once thought beneath him—inferior in her connection—she understood him and protected him. Now, he too comprehended: From the first moment he had laid eyes on her at the Hertfordshire assembly hall, Fitzwilliam Darcy had thought of no one but her. She consumed him, and he loved her with a passion that surprised even him. Elizabeth would understand and would even find the mix of people about to inundate Pemberley as amusing as would he.
Within twenty minutes, the inn’s staff had loaded the trunks onto Darcy’s large coach, and both carriages had set out for Pemberley. For his own reasons, Darcy purposely had placed all the ladies, except the viscount’s mistress, in his coach. He would not subject Mrs. Williams—or even his wife’s sister, who had acted quite shamelessly with George Wickham—to Miss Donnel. He would tell Elizabeth of the lady’s true nature so that his wife could help him keep Georgiana apart from Cathleen Donnel.
The icy rain continued, but feathery flakes of snow also appeared. Darcy knew that Mr. Stalling was fighting the elements from his perch on the box.The ice pelted the carriage’s sides and roof, while the snow thickened, covering the layer of ice and making the road slick.The horses wanted to bolt—to escape the dampness—but Stalling held them in check, making the animals walk rather than giving them their heads. Each time Darcy looked, it seemed that the snow grew in its intensity—blinding his view. It came—part icy rain and part snow—covering the trees and the ground in a crusty frost.
“We will arrive soon,” he told them, although he knew that there were more than two miles to the house. At the moment, he wished that the drive from the gatehouse to the front circular drive were shorter.
“It seems that many of our guests travel to Cheshire, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said out of nowhere. When she was nervous, silence drove her to distraction; Darcy realized that his wife’s fears had increased, so despite propriety, he slid his arm around her, resting it easily against the back of the seat, while the tips of his fingers touched her shoulder in a gentle caress.
“Unfortunately, my Dear, Lady Catherine says the storm followed her from Manchester. I suspect Cheshire is not the place to be at the moment.”
“Lady Catherine?” Lydia gasped.“Is Her Ladyship at Pemberley also? Why did you not tell me, Lizzy?”
“Lady Catherine pays us an unexpected visit, but we are pleased to receive her and Miss de Bourgh.”
“Oh, my,” Mrs. Williams looked around frantically, giving the appearance that she had suddenly changed her mind about accepting the invitation. In the pale light of the afternoon, her eyes darted from side to side, as if looking for an escape. “I do so appreciate Mrs.Wickham’s kindness, but I feel that we have thrust undue obligations on you, Mr. Darcy.”
“Nonsense, Mrs.Williams,” Darcy assured her.“Pemberley is capable of hosting a large number of people, and it is only for a few days, until the roads improve.”
His mention of the roads drew everyone’s attention to conditions outside the coach. “I worry so for Mr. Stalling,” Elizabeth remarked as she stared at the falling snow.
Darcy patted her hand. “That is because you have a kind heart, my Dear. We will insist that Mrs. Jennings fix our Stalling and the viscount’s driver some hot soup and then see them both to bed.We would not want either man to catch an ague.”
To pass the time, Elizabeth told Lydia and Mrs. Williams about the first time she had seen Pemberley, when she had come to Derbyshire on holiday with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. Her relatives had insisted on seeing Pemberley. She explained, “I was apprehensive about the possibility of seeing Mr. Darcy again. As Lydia knows, early in our acquaintance, I misjudged my dear husband. However, at Pemberley, I suddenly considered how as a brother, a landlord, a master, how many people’s happiness were in his guardianship; how much of pleasure or pain it was in his power to bestow; how much good or evil must be done by him, and I began to think of his regard with a deeper sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before.”
Darcy listened in amazement. Elizabeth had never spoken of this previously. She had shared her first thoughts of his home and of how Mrs. Reynolds’s praise had opened her mind, but his wife had never confessed how her opinion of him had changed once she had seen for herself all his responsibilities.
“I understand, Mrs. Darcy,” Mrs. Williams said. “I would watch the admiral right before a battle and realize how much of the world depended on him—on his decisions. At such times, I would feel an overwhelming love for my husband.”
A long silence followed Mrs. Williams’s declaration. Her words had been pretty, yet something about her speech bothered Elizabeth. It sounded rehearsed. Often women professed their love for a husband who was tyrannical. Is the widow trying to preserve the late admiral’s reputation? Elizabeth wondered.
“Well, I am sure that my dear Wickham would be a fine leader,” Lydia asserted.
Elizabeth started to point out to her sister Wickham’s shortcomings, but a squeeze of Darcy’s hand reminded his wife of Mrs. Williams’s presence in the coach. Besides, Murray was pulling open the door to let down the steps. “We are pleased that you returned safely, Mr. Darcy.”
“Thank you, Murray. I will see to the ladies. Have someone help Viscount Stafford’s party. Unload the trunks as quickly as possible. I want everyone inside.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy turned to those disengaging from Stafford’s coach. “Everyone into the house. My staff will see to the belongings and the horses.” With a flick of his wrist, he directed footmen to support the ladies on the icy steps leading to the main door, while other members of his staff hurried to bring umbrellas, which offered some protection from the elements.
“It certainly is miserable,” Adam Lawrence remarked before following the women up the steps.
Darcy glanced back to make sure that everything was as he had instructed.Assured that all was well in hand, he turned his attention to the house and the open door.Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw him, standing partially behind a drawn drapery in the east wing, in a room not currently occupied, one under remodeling. For a split second their eyes met, but then the figure disappeared, almost as if it had never been there. The drape did not move, but the shadowy image withdrew. Darcy shook his head to clear it. Had his eyes, blinded by the rain and the snow, played a trick on him? Of course, even if someone was truly there, it could easily be one of his staff checking on the rooms, making sure things remained secure. Yet none of those explanations gave him any comfort. Instead, a shiver ran up his spine, and Darcy found his eyes searching the window once more.
“Fitzwilliam!” Elizabeth’s voice called from the open door. “Murray has control of everything. Come before you find yourself soaked to the bone.”
Closing the carriage door, Darcy quickly followed the rest of his party up the steps. He stamped his feet to remove the mud clinging to his boots. Then he handed Mr. Baldwin his greatcoat. “Have someone bring us tea in the green room, Mr. Baldwin,” Darcy ordered.
“Both Miss Darcy and the Mistress have placed like orders, sir.” The man smiled slightly.
Darcy chuckled. “I suppose I must abdicate some duties to the women in my life,” he whispered.
“It seems a wise decision, sir.”
“Obviously, we will need additional rooms available. Besides a room for Mrs. Wickham, another four rooms should be readied. Place the women in proximity to one another and the men likewise.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
“And have Mrs. Jennings prepare—”
“Mrs. Darcy again, sir,” his man interrupted him.
Darcy smiled at the man who had served the family since Darcy was a boy. “I will leave you to do your job, Mr. Baldwin.You know it better than I do.”With that, he followed his party to the drawing room—to the warmth of the fireplace and hot tea.
“Oh, Fitzwilliam, I was so worried.” Georgiana greeted him as he stepped into the room.
Darcy slid his arm about her waist.“As you see, other than a bit chilled, we are all safe.” He glanced toward the hearth where Elizabeth stood. “Did Elizabeth introduce you to everyone?”
“Yes, Brother.” Georgiana, who was always a bit shy, clung to his hand. “It was kind of you and Elizabeth to bring the others to Pemberley.”
“It is only for a few days.” Then he whispered in her ear. “At least with the others here, Lady Catherine will not offer you her usual caustic censure.”
Georgiana smiled at that idea. “Let me help Elizabeth with the tea service.” She moved away from him. The absence of his aunt and the influence of his new wife had given Georgiana a large dose of confidence this past year, but he feared that the appearance of Lydia Wickham at Pemberley might be a setback. At age fifteen, Georgiana had aligned herself with George Wickham, a man with whom she shared a familiarity. He, in turn, had claimed to love her, but as it played out, her dowry of thirty thousand pounds and possible revenge on Darcy had interested the man more. Darcy had learned of Wickham’s planned elopement and arrived in time to send the man packing.The effect of this disappointment on Georgiana persisted. She lacked confidence in social situations, always wondering if people liked her for herself or for her wealth. Having Lydia as a reminder of her mistake could prove detrimental. Darcy would guard against that happening. He would not deny Elizabeth her sister’s company, but he also would not allow Lydia Bennet Wickham’s presence to hurt his sister.
At the moment, even with Anne’s situation with Lieutenant Harwood, Darcy was thankful for his cousin’s presence at Pemberley. Anne always catered to Georgiana, and his sister could keep company with Anne and her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson.That way, Lydia would scarcely notice Georgiana.
Thirty minutes later, Mr. Baldwin appeared at the door. Darcy met him there and then turned to the group. “Mr. Baldwin assures me that your rooms are prepared with comfortable fires burning in each. I am sure most of you would like time to freshen your things after such a harrowing day. Your trunks are in your chambers. If you are in need of anything, please do not hesitate to ask any of my staff. I am afraid we keep country hours. Supper will be served at half past five.”
“If you will follow me,” Mr. Baldwin instructed the guests.
The guests rose and made their way to the door. As each one passed Darcy, he or she murmured words of gratitude once again—everyone except Lydia, who seemed to think of herself as more than a guest. “You will have someone bring me water for a bath, Mr. Darcy?” She offered her most beguiling smile.
“Certainly, Mrs.Wickham.”
With everyone’s departure, Georgiana excused herself to practice her music. Finally, it was just he and Elizabeth. Immediately, she moved into his embrace. For several moments, they simply held each other. “I suspect after this week, we will be more than happy to isolate ourselves at Pemberley once again,” Darcy said.
Elizabeth rested her head on his chest.“I am sorry for my sister’s impudence,” she said, near tears.
“None of that, Elizabeth,” he warned her. “I have known no greater joy than I have found with you this past year. Have you not realized that I would move mountains to make you happy? I can tolerate the inconvenience of a few extra people for the pleasure of seeing you enjoying your family.”
“But Lydia is so uncontrollable,” she protested.
He countered, “And Lady Catherine is not?”
She wound her arms about his neck as she confessed, “Well, perhaps we are even.” Elizabeth lifted her chin to look at him. Darcy tightened his hold on her, drawing Elizabeth closer to him. “You are my heart,” she whispered as her lips parted in anticipation of his kiss.
“No, Mrs. Darcy. I never found the candleholder,” Megs reported. “I searched all the nearby rooms to be seein’ if it be there, and I askt’ Margie and Lilly to be checkin’ Her Ladyship’s room like ye be sayin’, but it be not there either.” She appeared more than a bit upset.
Elizabeth puzzled over this mystery. “It certainly makes no sense,” she muttered. “I thought surely it would turn up by now.”
“I be sorry, Mrs. Darcy.”Tears began to fill the woman’s eyes.
Elizabeth heard the trembling in the maid’s voice. “My goodness, Megs. Do not do that. No one is blaming you.The candelabra will reappear, just as I said this morning.”
“I would not want ye to be thinkin’ poorly of me, ma’am—like me did not do me job. I like it at Pemberley. So much better than at the Johnsons’.” She blurted out the words in a rush of emotions.
“I assure you, Megs,” Elizabeth said calmly, “that we have no complaints regarding your work. The holder will reappear. In a house the size of Pemberley, it could be anywhere. We will continue to search for it.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank ye, Mistress.” The woman bobbed a curtsy before leaving to do her duties.
Without thinking about what she did, Elizabeth began to search the rooms along the hallway leading to Georgiana’s private chambers. Even as a child, Elizabeth had hated an unsolved puzzle, and although she knew it would reappear, she wanted to find the candleholder to solve this particular mystery. However, after thoroughly going through three bedchambers, she realized the futility of such a search. There were just too many places at Pemberley to look. She would alert Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Baldwin—have everyone on the lookout for the missing item.
“Mr. Baldwin, I was wondering if we had men working in the east wing today?” Darcy, as he always did when he hosted guests at Pemberley, was double-checking all the details for the evening’s entertainment.
“Not of which I am aware, sir.” The butler lit the wall sconces in the main hallway. “Should I inquire, sir?”
Darcy glanced toward the main staircase.“I thought I saw someone in the window when we returned from Lambton. I may be wrong, but I would like to know for sure.”
“I will check with Murray, sir.”
“Be discreet, Mr. Baldwin. If one of our men is shirking his duties and hiding out in the unoccupied rooms, I wish to catch him in the act.”The more he considered those brief seconds of eye contact the more convinced Darcy was of actually seeing someone in the darkened room. A footman being where he did not belong was the most logical explanation.
“I will see to it personally, Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth tapped lightly on Lydia’s chamber door. “Lydia,” she said as she opened it just a crack, “may I help you dress?” Elizabeth wanted a few minutes alone with her sister. She had not seen Lydia since the day her youngest sister and George Wickham had left Longbourn for Newcastle. That had been before Darcy’s second proposal—before her double wedding with their oldest sister, Jane, to Charles Bingley. Of course, the Wickhams claimed that his military duties and the great distance prevented their attending the wedding, but Elizabeth knew the real reason to be the unspoken feud between Darcy and Mr.Wickham.
“Come in!” Lydia called from behind the screen where she dressed.
“I thought we might have some time together.” Elizabeth came closer to the screen. “It has been more than a year since we had a five-chit chat.” It was what they had once called that time at the end of the day at Longbourn when the five Bennet girls gathered to share gossip and hopes and dreams. Beside the long talks with her father and her uncommon need for Jane as her confidante, it was what Elizabeth missed most about her Hertfordshire home.
“Sure, Lizzy.” Lydia grunted, obviously struggling into her clothes.
Elizabeth indulgently came around the screen.“Let me lace that for you.” She took up the strings of her sister’s corsets. “I will ask Mrs. Reynolds to find someone to serve as your maid while you are at Pemberley.Would you like that, Lyddie?”
“Just listen to you.” Lydia turned to really see her sister. “Are you not the be-all, now that you have married Mr. Darcy. Back at Longbourn none of us had our own maid. We all shared the Hills and Harriet.”
Elizabeth spun Lydia to where she could tie off the last of the strings. “Well, I did marry Mr. Darcy, and if that makes me uppity, then so be it.” Elizabeth walked back toward the room’s seating area. “So do you wish the help of a maid or not?”
Lydia followed her as they took a place before the hearth.“Why should I not live in luxury while I may,” she replied.
Elizabeth pulled her feet up under her to sit comfortably.“Jane’s last letter said that you and Mr.Wickham had moved recently. I will need your new directions.”
“It is not much.” Lydia straightened her dress’s seams, trying not to make eye contact with her sister. “Obviously, nothing like what you or Jane has.” She glanced about her.“Just four rooms.You know—military quarters are not much by Pemberley’s standards.”
Elizabeth knew that her sister had changed quarters three times since her marriage. Elizabeth and Jane had agreed to aid their younger sister, knowing Lydia’s tendency to spend foolishly. Elizabeth sent such relief as it was in her power to afford by the practice of what might be called economy in her own private expenses. She refused to ask Darcy to provide the Wickhams with any more financial support. It had always been evident to everyone that the couple would know no economy, and that such an income as theirs, under the direction of two persons in their wants and heedless of the future, must be very insufficient to their support. “But you and Mr.Wickham—I mean—you are happy, are you not, Lydia?”
“It is easy to be happy when you live like this.” Lydia gestured to the room’s finery. “It is a bit harder when…well…it just is, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth sat forward. “I want you to be happy, Lydia; you must know that.” She, too, gestured to the room’s decorations. “This is not from where my happiness comes. For me, it comes from Fitzwilliam. I would be happy to be one of Pemberley’s cottagers if he was there.”
“Then you are lucky.” Lydia stood. “I affect Mr. Wickham—I really do, Lizzy. He is so handsome in his blue coat and all.” She walked to the fireplace and stood there with her back to the roaring fire.
Elizabeth had realized from the beginning that Wickham’s affection for Lydia was not equal to Lydia’s for him.Their elopement had been brought on by the strength of her love rather than by his. She often wondered why, without violently caring for Lydia, he had chosen to elope with her at all. Now she understood that his flight had been rendered necessary by distress of circumstances, and Wickham was not the young man to resist an opportunity of having a companion. Lydia had been exceedingly fond of him from the beginning. He had been her dear Wickham on every occasion; no one was to be put in competition with him. He did everything best in the world. It was an idealized love.
“I know that you have always found the best in Mr.Wickham.” Elizabeth felt very sorry for her sister’s situation—for her own beloved Lydia’s foolishness.
Lydia turned to stare into the fire. “I wish my husband did me the same honor. He finds me quite silly, and I suppose I am at times.”
“You are still very young, Lyddie.”
“Am I?” The girl’s shoulders began to jerk with silent sobs. “I am old enough to know what my husband does on these trips when he sends me off to visit with Jane and now you.” Her tone turned sarcastic. “Can you imagine my dear Wickham not keeping company with some other woman when he is at Bath or London?”
“You do not know that for certain, Lydia.” Elizabeth said the words to comfort her sister, not because she truly believed them.
Lydia wiped at her face with her sleeve. “No…I do not know for certain what my husband does on his travels.” She wore bitterness on her face when she turned to her sister. “The colonel’s wife says that it is a man’s way—that a woman must accept her lot. But I will not spend my life with a man who does not love me. I fancy myself still capable of attracting a man of consequence—the same as you and Jane.”
“Lydia, you cannot be thinking of leaving Mr.Wickham!” Elizabeth’s heart sank as she inwardly acknowledged the possible scandal. A divorce would be ten times more controversial than Lydia’s elopement, and it would not be something that even Darcy could cover up, even if it were possible for Wickham to execute. Divorce was usually granted only to those of a particular social class and those with deep pockets, neither of which described the Wickhams.
“Why not?” Lydia went to the mirror to style her hair. “He has no qualms about leaving me—whether it be to Bath or London or even simply to his own bed. Well, I will have no more of it, Lizzy—I will not be tossed aside at seventeen.When Mr.Wickham left, I told him that I expected a renewal of his affections when he returned, or I would speak to the colonel about what happens behind our closed doors.”
Elizabeth did not want to ask, but she did so anyway. “What happens, Lydia?”
Her sister did not turn to speak directly to Elizabeth, but she spoke to her sister’s reflection in the beveled mirror.“Mr.Wickham drinks, Lizzy, and he is not a man who holds his liquor well.”
“He hits you!” Elizabeth said, aghast. She had observed George Wickham being rude to Lydia, but it was always when Lydia had made a spectacle of herself, but Elizabeth had never thought it might be more than embarrassment mixed with irritation.
“Not hit exactly—more like shove or fling or pinch or bend. But I will no longer tolerate my husband’s ire, and I told him so before I left Nottingham. I told Mr. Wickham to get whatever it was out of his system before he returned to Newcastle.”
“Good for you.” Elizabeth moved to stand behind her sister. “I am proud of you, Lyddie.” She took up the brush to style Lydia’s hair.
“Are you truly, Lizzy?”
“Indeed, I am.”