by Leenie Brown
“You might wish to speak to Lady Jersey about that,” Sir Matthew inserted from the corner where he sat. “Her grandfather was a banker, you know. However, I imagine he would likely agree with you since he found an earl to be less than acceptable for his daughter. And I am also certain he is not the first to think in such a fashion.” Sir Matthew paused for a moment as the room sat in silence. “It seems the world has been turned on its head for some time.”
“Your carriage is waiting,” Darcy said softly, taking his aunt by the elbow and moving her toward the door.
“It is not right,” she protested as she left the room. “This is not how things are supposed to be.”
“But it is how things are,” Darcy said firmly. “And if you wish to continue visiting me, you will learn to accept them as they are. I have warned you. I will abide no disparagement of my betrothed or her family. Think on that carefully as you return to town. My mother would be saddened to think you had cut yourself off from me.”
“But it is not my doing,” Lady Catherine protested.
“It is entirely your doing, for it is your choice,” Darcy said as Mr. Barrett handed Lady Catherine’s wrap and hat to her.
“But she is…”
“My sister.”
Lady Catherine’s eyes grew wide at Darcy’s declaration.
“And I will protect her just as I would Georgiana.” He waited for his aunt to say something for she looked as if she wished to, but she remained silent. “May your journey be pleasant,” he added, and then with a bow, he took his leave of her.
Chapter 8
Elizabeth kept one eye on her youngest sister and one eye on the door to Netherfield’s drawing room. Lydia was sitting sullenly on the sofa. She had uncrossed her arms so that she could scratch Dash’s ear, but her scowl still remained.
“That was vicious.”
Elizabeth’s eyes flicked in astonishment toward Caroline, the source of the whispered comment.
“There are people in this world who think they are better than others and are not sensible enough to keep their ignorance to themselves.”
Caroline’s head dipped at Sir Matthew’s words, and a tinge of pink stained her cheeks.
“To think she thought you unfit to be my wife,” Sir Matthew continued. “Utter balderdash is what it is.”
Lydia brushed at the corner of her eye.
“Oh, there you are!” Bingley rose quickly from his seat and managed to capture Oliver before he could find a safe hiding place. “This is Oliver,” he announced to the room.
Lydia’s scowl softened to interest, and Elizabeth sighed in relief. There would likely still be some pouting and tears – how could there not be? Elizabeth was certain she would be a jumbled mess of emotions if she had been attacked in such a fashion as Lydia had been.
“He is a gift for Miss Bennet,” Bingley continued.
“For me?” Jane’s face lit with delight as Bingley handed Oliver to her. “Oh, he is beautiful.” She made a small clicking sound to capture Oliver’s attention before scratching him on the head and then stroking along his back. He stood on her lap and arched his back toward her hand.
“I acquired him before you arrived back at Longbourn,” Bingley explained as he once again took a seat next to Jane. “Do you truly like him?” He scratched Oliver’s head.
“He is perfect,” Jane cooed.
Darcy entered the room just then, and Elizabeth shifted her attention from how her sister was playing with Oliver to him. He smiled at her but did not come to her side. Instead, he crossed to where his sister and hers were seated.
“Do you like kittens?” he asked Lydia, who nodded.
He bent to scratch Dash’s ear. “We best not tell this fellow, or he will think he has lost his place.”
A pleased and amused smile spread across Lydia’s face.
“I will say I thought he might bite my aunt for a moment, which she would have rightly deserved.”
Lydia’s smile faltered.
“He is very loyal to you,” Darcy added.
“He is.”
“So is my cousin.”
Elizabeth barely heard the whispered words which Darcy spoke as he once again scratched Dash’s ear before turning his head to look at his sister.
“Were you going to practice some music, Georgiana?”
“We were,” Georgiana answered. “Shall we go to the music room?” She rose.
“I think I should like that very much,” Darcy agreed. “And you might even persuade me to join in the dancing if Miss Elizabeth will stand up with me.”
Elizabeth nodded. She would follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked. He was crouched down now in front of Lydia, giving Dash another scratch.
“I will return your letter to you as soon as I have read all but the last paragraph,” he assured her before standing and offering her his hand to aid in rising from her chair. “And,” he said when she was on her feet and before he released her hand so she could join the others, “remember what my cousin said before he left Darcy House. He has made his choice and will not be dissuaded from it.”
Lydia’s lips curled into a small smile while her eyes glistened with tears as she nodded and whispered a quick “thank you.”
While Lydia scooted from the room, Darcy’s shoulders lifted and lowered as he drew and released a deep breath. “I cannot apologize for my aunt enough,” he said to those who remained in the room. “There is not one of us who she did not censure.” He shook his head. “I knew she would not be happy to hear of my betrothal, but I had not considered how she might respond to Miss Lydia.”
“You could not know with certainty,” Sir Matthew said. “She might come to her senses now that you have tossed her from the house.”
Darcy chuckled. “I did not precisely toss her from the house.”
“You escorted her out the door rather quickly,” Bingley said.
Darcy shook his head and chuckled softly. “Very well, I did tell her that she will not be welcome to visit me if she continues as she has been. I will brook no disparagement of any member of my family.”
“Which is as it should be,” Sir Matthew agreed, although his eyes were on his betrothed.
Caroline fidgeted with the seam of her skirt and, without lifting her eyes from her hands, said, “Sir Matthew is correct. You should not abide any condemnation of those you love.” She blew out a breath. “I must apologize for the times I have been that small person.”
Her eyes finally lifted to look at her companions when no one spoke. She shrugged. “I wanted what I could not have.” She straightened her shoulders. “I believe that is all I wish to say on that for now.”
Sir Matthew captured her hand, and she smiled.
“Well, I will say this bit more,” Caroline continued. “Though I mean no offense to Mr. Darcy, I think what I have received is far better than what I sought, and I have no desire to become a bitter lady such as your aunt.”
It was perhaps not worded in the most appropriate fashion, but Darcy still smiled and accepted her apology with grace.
“I for one, am happy to hear it,” Bingley said. “You may thank me later, dear sister.”
“Thank you? For what?”
“To begin with, for allowing Sir Matthew to marry you.”
Caroline gasped. “Allowing? Forcing is more like the truth!”
“Do you truly feel forced to marry me?” Sir Matthew asked.
Caroline’s eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed into a thin line. “No,” she admitted reluctantly.
“Then,” Sir Matthew continued, “I think your brother is right in expecting a thank you at some point. I know I have thanked him several times for my good fortune.” The gentleman lifted her hand to his lips, causing Caroline to smile.
“Very well. You are right as you often are,” Caroline replied. “I shall have to thank you sometime, Brother. However, I do not think it will be today.”
Darcy shook his head while chuckling softly to himself as he extende
d his hand to Elizabeth. “I believe we are expected in the music room.”
“That was…”
“Surprising,” Darcy finished Elizabeth’s whispered sentence as he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “That man is a marvel.”
“He is,” Elizabeth said as she cast a look over her shoulder at the two couples remaining in the drawing room. Caroline was asking Jane something about a wedding breakfast. “I had worried about Jane having such a sister, but I do not think I need to worry any longer.”
She rested her head against Darcy’s shoulder as they ambled down the hallway. She had missed quiet moments with him like this. There had been many in the weeks she had been at Darcy House and few since her return to Longbourn.
“But then, I had also worried about my mother and sisters driving you to distraction, and I was wrong about that as well.”
“They still might,” Darcy admitted.
Elizabeth’s cheek rubbed against the fabric of his jacket as she shook her head. “You were wonderful with Lydia just now. Even if they do set your teeth on edge from time to time as they might – for they do mine – I have no reason to worry because I know you will handle it with great aplomb.”
Music filtered through the door before them.
He smiled down at her and shook his head. “I cannot guarantee that I will not ever respond inappropriately, but I have promised you that I will endure it all because I love you.”
Elizabeth peeked down the hall. The door to the drawing room was closed, and no servants were about. “And how will you assure me of your promise, sir?” she asked impertinently as she looked up into the eyes of the most wonderful man in the world.
A smile spread across his face, and he answered as she hoped he would by lowering those smiling lips to hers and wrapping her in his embrace.
Chapter 9
“Come in, my dears,” Mr. Bennet called from his chair near the small hearth in his study as Elizabeth opened the door. “How many daughters are visiting me today?” He peeked over his shoulder toward the door. “My favourites,” he said with a smile.
“No, Papa. I am here, too,” Lydia said.
“And you are not my favourite youngest daughter? Have you given that position to Kitty? I shall have to write this down, so I do not forget if you have.” He closed his book and tucked it between his leg and the arm of the chair.
“Oh, Papa,” Jane chided. “You do not have favourites.”
“Oh, but he does,” Lydia replied. “You and Lizzy.”
“Yes,” her father said. “Jane is my favourite eldest daughter. Lizzy is my favourite second daughter. Mary is, of course, my favourite middle daughter. And then there is Kitty who is my favourite almost youngest daughter, and then there is you, my dear Lydia, who is and, I hope, shall always remain, my favourite youngest daughter.”
“No,” Lydia protested, “I am Mama’s favourite, and Jane and Lizzy are your favourites. Poor Mary and Kitty are not favourites at all; except, Kitty and I are very good friends so perhaps she is my favourite.” Lydia sighed and shook her head. “Poor Mary,” she murmured. “It must be dreadful to be so alone.”
Mr. Bennet’s left eyebrow had quirked in question during Lydia’s recital of how things were. “I believe,” he said, “that a daughter might be favoured by both parents and her sisters and still not have exhausted the number of people to whom she is dear.”
“Do you think so?” Lydia took a seat on a footstool next to Jane.
“I am certain of it,” her father replied.
“But you cannot have everyone as your favourite. That is not how favourites work,” Lydia declared.
“Which is nearly what I said,” Jane inserted. “Papa does not truly have favourites as you would think of favourites. He loves us all. It is just that there are particular things about each of us that endears us to him.”
“Jane is a very wise young lady,” Mr. Bennet said. “I have had my fun teasing you about favourites and trying to befuddle your mind with going in circles and will agree with Jane. She has said it perfectly.”
“As she always does,” Elizabeth said with a little laugh.
“Not always,” Jane argued, though she grinned broadly while her eyes sparkled with amusement.
Lydia seemed either to have missed or to have chosen to ignore Elizabeth’s and Jane’s playful exchange. Her face was overwritten with curiosity.
“You like something particular about me?” Lydia asked her father.
He nodded. “I do.”
“What?’
Her father steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them as he studied her for a moment in silence. “More than any of your sisters, you are the very image of your mother. How could I not admire that about you, for as you know from our time in London, I love your mother very dearly. I always have, and I always will.”
Elizabeth could not agree more with any of what her father said. Since spending time with Lydia at Sally’s and hearing a portion of the story about their parents’ courtship, Elizabeth knew just how much her parents loved each other and had come to realize just how much Lydia was like her mother. Sally had pointed it out many times, and Elizabeth had considered it in that moment and for several days afterward. However, she also knew that Lydia was not just a copy of her mother. Lydia also possessed her own special qualities. Qualities which were being drawn out and revealed because of Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“Now,” her father said, “tell me about Netherfield. Does it still look as it did? Did you dance as you expected?”
Lydia nodded her head. “We did.”
Mr. Bennet’s brow furrowed. “That is all the report you have? Did you not see Dash? Am I to wonder about all the fixtures and furnishings?”
“Oh!” Lydia exclaimed. “Mr. Bingley gave Jane a kitten. His name is Oliver – not Mr. Bingley’s. Oliver is the kitten’s name.”
“I did not bring him home.” Jane’s cheeks were rosy. “I thought it best that he stays in the home he knows for now.”
“It will be her home eventually anyway,” Lydia added as if no one in the room would remember that Jane was to marry Bingley. “Dash is not fond of Oliver, although I think he is merely curious about him and would really like to be his friend, but Oliver is so young. It really is not to be expected that Oliver would understand how to be a friend to Dash just yet.”
“Well, that is well-thought out,” muttered their father.
Elizabeth bit back a giggle at his perplexed expression.
“Mr. Darcy’s aunt was there,” Jane said quietly.
Lydia shook her head and looked sternly at her eldest sister. It was an action that did not go unnoticed by their father.
“She is no longer there,” Elizabeth said.
“Mr. Darcy sent her away,” Jane added. “She is not at all nice. In fact, she is very much like Mrs. Salter if you were to ask me.” Jane’s chin lifted. “She had not one nice word to say about anyone. We are all beneath her notice, and therefore, we should also be beneath Mr. Darcy’s notice.”
“Indeed?” Mr. Bennet’s brows were lifted high in surprise.
“Lady Catherine is Lord Matlock’s sister,” Elizabeth said. “We are, I suppose, beneath her, though I am loathed to admit it, for she was dreadful.”
“And what do you think of her?” Mr. Bennet asked Lydia.
“I quite hope the wheels fall of her carriage, and I never have to see her again.”
“I must say that is a bit excessive, do you not think?” her father exclaimed.
Lydia shook her head. “Not at all. She was most rude to me.”
Mr. Bennet looked to his eldest daughters for confirmation of what Lydia had said. Both Jane and Elizabeth nodded their agreement.
“I was so excited to see Georgiana – I mean Miss Darcy – when I arrived at Netherfield that I quite forgot to give my letter to Mr. Darcy until we were all seated. And then when I did, Lady Catherine,” Lydia’s lips curled in displeasure as she said the name, “demanded to know why I had
a letter from the colonel and was not at all pleased to hear he was writing to me with permission from you. She said dreadful things, and then Mr. Darcy made her leave.” Lydia pulled her lip between her teeth as a crease formed between her eyes. “Do you think it might be acceptable for me to ask Miss Darcy or Miss Bingley to teach me how to act as a lady does in London and how to manage an estate as large as Netherfield?”
The room fell silent for a minute until their father cleared his throat and began by saying, “I would rather you learn to act as Miss Darcy or Jane does. They are far better examples of how ladies with any amount of true character should behave, and I would, therefore, have you behave as they do rather than how some lady in town is supposed to comport herself. I have very little use for the likes of many of the ladies I have met from town.” He blew out a breath. “As for the management of an estate, there is none better than your mother to teach you what you will need to know –”
“But she will not allow me to do things. She will do them for me,” Lydia pleaded.
“As I was saying,” her father continued. “There is none better than your mother to teach you what you will need to know; however, if you feel that you could learn more from Miss Bingley or Miss Darcy, I shall write the request myself.”
Lydia’s eyes grew wide as did her smile. “Do you mean it?” she asked eagerly.
Her father nodded. “Whether I like it or not, I will have to give you away at some point, and I would not like to think you would go to your new home feeling inadequately prepared.”
Lydia leapt from her seat, crossed to her father, and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Papa. Thank you.”
“You will behave as a proper student should, will you not?” He asked as he held her close.
“I absolutely will,” Lydia assured him. “I just do not wish to be…” she stopped speaking, released his neck, and moved to return to her seat.
