Willow Hall Romance

by Leenie Brown

  “Then I shall have to discover it on my own,” she declared with no small amount of determination in her voice.

  He laughed.

  She huffed. “I shall soon become familiar with my surroundings, you know.”

  He chuckled a bit longer. It was true. He was certain that even Lydia would know her way around the small town of Kympton before October. “I shall just have to trust that you will find your position to your liking and not too boring.” He raised a brow, and his lips curled into a smirk as he said the last word.

  She shrugged and tossed her head. “I do hope there will be some entertainment to the society in which I will be moving.”

  “Aunt Tess is well-known and liked. You will not want for society,” he assured her.

  Lydia grabbed his arm. “Oh, do not tell her what I said. It was merely a jest to provoke you.”

  He took his eyes from the road and looked into her large, round, fearful eyes. “I would not think of doing anything to put you or your position with Aunt Tess in danger.” A smile spread slowly across his face. “Your eyes are very pretty,” he said before turning away from them.

  “Oh, yes, they are,” she agreed most sincerely. “I rather like how they are a mix of brown and green.”

  “With flecks of gold,” he added.

  She nodded. “And depending on what I wear or how the light hits them, they can appear more or less of one colour than the other. There is not another girl in all of Meryton whose eyes are as lovely as mine.”

  “Your sisters do not have the same colouring?”

  She sighed. “Lizzy and Kitty do, but mine are the nicest, for they have more green and less brown. Mine could only truly be nicer if they were completely green. Green is one of my favourite colours, you know, but yellow is nice, as well.”

  “I like green and brown,” Marcus made an attempt to follow her conversation and add to it.

  She clapped her hands. “Just like my eyes. It is no wonder you like them so much.” Her hand flew to her bonnet. “My hair is brown. Do you like it?”

  He glanced over at her. She was patiently waiting for his response. Her eyes watched him without a hint of teasing, and she did not appear to be asking just to puff up her vanity. She seemed truly interested in his opinion, and he had no doubt she was already rather confident about the appearance of her hair just as she was about her eyes. He nodded. “It is lovely.”

  “I knew you would like it. Everybody does.” She turned to look at their surroundings. They had reached the edge of town where some small cottages dotted the sides of the road. “Are the people friendly?”

  “I find them to be,” he assured her. Then, he pointed out a few places that he knew. “And if you turn here,” he pointed to a road to their right, “that street will wrap around to the church and then bring you right back to this very road we are on. Where the other end of that street meets this one is where you will be living. Up there, three houses down on the left.”

  “Oh!” She sat forward on the seat.

  “And across from it is where my brother and Lucy live.”

  She nodded and looked at him. “Your brother, Mr. Philip Dobney, is the vicar?”

  “He is. Mr. Darcy gave him the living just last year shortly before Philip married.” He slowed the horses as they drew near to Aunt Tess’s. “You will have to meet them. I think you will like Lucy. Everybody does.”

  He was just drawing to a stop in front of Philip’s house when Lydia grabbed his arm once again.

  “There,” she pointed down the street, “that is Mr. William’s house, is it not?”

  “You remember it?”

  She nodded. Her hand still gripped his arm.

  “I am to go there after I deliver you to Aunt Tess,” he said, covering her hand with his, “to tell Mr. Williams that Wickham can leave.”

  Lydia nodded again and removed her hand from his arm allowing him to dismount and then help her down from her seat. It was a relief that she would not have to see Wickham again. She also did not wish to see Mr. Williams. However, he would be a neighbour, which would mean at least an occasional meeting would be inevitable. She sighed. A cranky constable was better than Wickham.

  “Marcus!” A familiar looking lady called from her step across the street.

  Marcus lifted his hand in greeting. “Come, I will introduce you to Lucy.” He took a step, but Lydia did not follow.

  “I have already met her,” Lydia said as Marcus turned to look at her. “The night I arrived at Willow Hall.”

  Marcus smiled. There was that Lydia again. The one that stared at her hands when he mentioned her troubles to his father. The one that stood her ground refusing to be returned to her father. The one that cared what others thought of her though she pretended not to. “She’ll not judge you.”

  Lydia’s eyes grew wide in surprise.

  “I promise,” he said, giving the hand that lay on his arm a small squeeze. “Trust me.”

  Lydia nodded and just as quickly as she had hidden her fear the day he had carried her into Willow Hall, she tucked it away now. And were it not for the firmness of her grip on his arm, he would have thought her completely at ease to look at her expression.

  He gave her hand one more squeeze, led her to where Lucy waited, and made a proper introduction.

  Lucy glanced over her shoulder. “I would ask you to come in, but Aunt Tess gave particular instructions that I am to join you for tea. Tomorrow, Aunt Tess and you, Miss Lydia, will have tea at my home. It is a bit of back and forth we do.” She looked at Marcus. “Your brother wishes to speak with you.”

  “Am I not allowed tea?” Marcus grumbled. Lydia might look the part of a confident young lady, but he knew she would be much more at ease if he were to be with her when being introduced to her new surroundings.

  Lucy shook her head. “Not until you have seen Philip. He says it is important. I will see Miss Lydia safe to her home.”

  Marcus felt Lydia’s grasp tighten for a moment. He was right. She was uneasy. It was not something he could ignore, especially since he had asked her to trust him. “Philip can wait until I see you both safely to Aunt Tess’s house,” he said as he extended his free arm to Lucy. “I will not take tea until I see him,” he added as he waited for Lucy to take his arm. How was he to placate two demanding females?

  “Very well,” said Lucy reluctantly. “But he is not alone. Mr. Williams has come to call.”

  “It will be but a moment longer before I attend them,” he reassured her.

  “Is everything well?” Lydia’s voice wavered just a bit.

  “It is,” said Lucy. “There is nothing to fear. Mr. Wickham left this morning, and he shall not be returning.” She tugged Marcus’s arm until he leant down so that she could kiss his cheek. “Tell my husband to be quick so that his tea is not cold.” She extended a hand to Lydia. “I shall tell you all about it while we eat biscuits.” She lay her other hand on her abdomen and winked at Lydia.

  Marcus did not miss the small motion. “Keeping secrets are we?” he asked with a grin.

  “For a few more weeks,” Lucy said with a smile. “Philip knows, as does Aunt Tess, but no one else.” She gave Marcus a severe look.

  “You glare me into silence and not Miss Lydia?” He lay a hand on his heart as if he were wounded.

  Lucy laughed. “Men do not keep secrets as well as ladies.”

  At that, he laughed outright. “Yes, gentlemen are the chief gossips.” He waved and took his leave assuring them that the secret was safe.

  Lucy wrapped Lydia’s arm around hers. “We expect the baby to arrive at the end of winter,” she said as they entered the house. “I am hoping that you, as well as Aunt Tess, will help me prepare for its arrival.”

  Lydia felt the importance of such a request made in secret. Lucy, it seemed, was not unkindly disposed to Lydia as Lydia had feared she might be. “I know little of babies, but I am very good with a needle.”

  Lucy laughed. “I know very little about them eithe
r. We shall learn together.”

  Lydia placed her bonnet on the table that stood just inside the door. “Mrs. Abbot knows about babies, and she seems very nice.”

  Lucy smiled. This girl, who looked very much like the defiant girl standing in Willow Hall’s sitting room that first night she arrived, was not as she presented herself. She might be fierce when provoked and self-indulgent to a fault, but she was not without sense or feelings. Her eyes spoke, no, begged, for acceptance. Lucy was not sure if it was her condition or the moment of being allowed to see such an unguarded expression, but her handkerchief was about to be used for the third time that day. “I believe you are a good judge of character, Miss Lydia, for Mrs. Abbot is one of the kindest souls I have met, and we will ask her for help when we are ready.” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “We had best hurry before all the best biscuits are gone. Aunt Tess has a rather large sweet tooth.”

  Chapter 11

  Marcus knocked firmly on the door to his brother’s study before pushing it open. He hoped that whatever matter needed to be discussed would be done quickly. He had planned to spend some time with Lydia at Aunt Tess’s before returning home. He wished to see her well-settled and happy. He was confident that she and Aunt Tess would rub along nicely, but still, his mind would not be easy unless he saw it for himself.

  “Your charge has been delivered?” Philip was leaning back in his chair. His hands were folded in front of him while his elbows were propped on the arms of the chair, and his lips wore a slightly teasing grin.

  “Miss Lydia is not my charge.” Marcus tossed his hat on the desk. “I believe her care falls under her father’s jurisdiction and then transfers to Mr. Abbot on Mr. Bennet’s departure. Mr. Williams.” He acknowledged the gentleman with a nod before taking a seat.

  Philip chuckled softly. “Yet, you seem very intent on seeing to Miss Lydia’s welfare.”

  Marcus glared at his brother. “As I would for any friend. Am I not known for caring for my friends?” He turned to Mr. Williams, who held up his hands in protest of being brought into any argument the two brothers might be starting.

  “I will not take sides,” he said. “I find caring for one’s friends is a family trait, instilled by your father and nurtured by your mother. In fact,” he added with a sly smile, “your brother is a fine example of just how far a Dobney will go to care for a friend.”

  “Would you go so far as I, Marcus?”

  This was not the matter they had called him here to discuss, was it? He looked from Mr. Williams to Philip. Philip’s expression was smug while Mr. Williams’ was unwavering as if the topic was not unexpected.

  “It should be considered,” said Mr. Williams.

  “What should be considered?” Marcus asked tentatively.

  “Oh, my boy, you are not so feeble-minded as you pretend.” Mr. Williams pulled a paper from his pocket. “Miss Lydia is free of Wickham for now.” He handed the paper to Marcus. “I have his account of what transpired on their way to Derbyshire from Brighton.” He smiled. “That Miss Lydia is a clever one. I dare say Wickham has never agreed to sign something so quickly in his life as he was that paper. I half expected him to put up a bit of a struggle — weasel his way into heavier pockets or the like — but he did not.”

  Marcus read Wickham’s account. “Very similar to Miss Lydia’s story,” he said passing the paper back to Mr. Williams. “It is my understanding that his pockets were not to be light when he left.”

  Mr. Williams shook his head. “He would not take a farthing of Miss Lydia’s money. Did not wish to be tied to her in any way.”

  “But his debts,” protested Marcus.

  “Aye, they were large.”

  “They have been seen to — or will be shortly.” Philip supplied, lifting a hand to stop the question he knew was coming. “I cannot say who has seen to them, nor am I perfectly at ease knowing Wickham has left so peacefully. His debts will not remain cancelled for long. There will be others, and then, he will again be looking for ways to claim his due.”

  “Aye,” agreed Mr. Williams. “Wait three months, and he’ll be looking for escape once again and willing to use whatever he must to obtain it.”

  Marcus shook his head. “I do not follow. You have his account of what happened. He cannot say otherwise.”

  Mr. Williams shrugged. “A whisper is all it takes. The damage will be done before it can be refuted. It is not fair that a lady’s reputation is so fragile, but it is what it is.”

  “With or without Wickham’s accounting of the tale,” began Philip, leaning forward and propping his arms on his desk, “there is no doubt already talk in Brighton, at least, and when the regiment returns to Hertfordshire, the tale will follow.”

  “That will not change if I marry her,” Marcus protested.

  “No, it will not, but it will limit Miss Lydia’s chances of marrying as she should.” Philip shuffled a few papers. “And she will be, most likely, going home after a brief stay with Aunt Tess.”

  Going home? Soon? Marcus shook his head again. “Why?”

  Philip sighed. “When I spoke to Mr. Bennet this morning, he agreed with Aunt Tess that a separation from what Miss Lydia knows and the responsibility of being a companion will do Miss Lydia good. However, Wickham did not take her money. Her portion is untouched, so there is no need for her to work to replace it. Therefore, after an agreed upon interval, the arrangement will be terminated, and Miss Lydia will be sent back to Hertfordshire, a wiser and more refined young lady.”

  Marcus scowled.

  “We will not lie to her if that is what you are thinking,” added Philip. “Aunt Tess is probably telling her about the arrangement right now. Her staying will be couched as a lesson in what could have happened.”

  Marcus was on his feet. “It will not work.”

  Philip snatched Marcus’s hat before he got it. “Sit down. Let us finish, and trust Aunt Tess to word it better than I have.”

  Marcus remained standing but did not move from his spot in front of Philip’s desk. “It will hurt her to have her idea — her sacrifice — turned into another reminder of how little anyone thinks of her.” His heart ached at the thought.

  “Sit down,” said Mr. Williams. “I have known Theresa Barnes long enough to know that she will not do or say anything to injure Miss Lydia.”

  Marcus stared at Mr. Williams for a moment before deciding to acquiesce and sit down. His brother he would defy. Mr. Williams, he would not.

  “According to Aunt Tess, Miss Lydia wishes to marry,” said Mr. Williams. “Her best chance for marrying, and marrying well, is here in Derbyshire where no one is aware of the commotion surrounding her arrival. She was recovering from her journey last Lord’s Day and merely got lost while on a walk. Both perfectly true.” He raised his brows and gave Marcus a look that demanded his words be accepted. “So, it will be our business to make certain she has the opportunity to make an attachment if at all possible. And the sooner the deed is done, the better.”

  “Marriage to some gentleman does not guarantee she will be free from scandal if Wickham does decide to break his silence,” argued Marcus.

  Mr. Williams shrugged. “No, it does not.”

  “The scoundrel may attempt to scheme his way into the coffers of whomever Miss Lydia marries.” He leaned forward and glared at both men. “You know as well as I that not all husbands will be kind to a wife they think has played them for a fool.” His heart beat heavily against his ribs while his fingers clutched the arms of his chair. How could they suggest such a thing? It would be better for Lydia never to marry than to be subjected to such treatment.

  “Yes,” said Philip, pushing a folded piece of paper across the desk toward Marcus, “we have taken that into consideration. I made a list of men I knew to be upstanding in my estimation. The list was not long, of course. We are not well-stocked with eligible gentlemen here in Kympton at present, so I included those I knew from Lambton.”

  Marcus attempted to take the paper from th
e desk, but Philip held it in place by pressing down on it.

  “Lucy wishes for me to say that she had only your description and a few comments made yesterday by Aunt Tess upon which to base her opinions when eliminating names.” Philip removed his hand from the paper. “However, she also had a few opinions of her own about some of the gentlemen I had included and, therefore, would not allow their names to remain on the list.”

  Marcus opened the paper. A list of about fifteen names had been whittled down to five. “Harris? I dare say he would not treat her well,” Marcus muttered. “It was he who called her a flirt to Miss Elizabeth.”

  “Would you like to remove his name?” Philip held out a pen. Had Marcus not been so disgusted with his cousin as a choice and therefore so eager to scratch out his name, he might have noticed the amused look that passed between Philip and Mr. Williams.

  Marcus scooted to the edge of his chair and, placing the paper on the desk, scratched out his cousin’s name. “Besides, he is only a captain.” He looked up at Philip. “The bottom of what Miss Lydia finds acceptable for rank. Now, Colonel Fitzwilliam has a better rank and good connections,” he drew a line through the name, “but Mary Ellen would not be pleased.”

  “She should make her interest known,” muttered Philip.

  “Perhaps, but I will not attempt to steer the object of her affections away from her.”

  “Just as you refuse to inform him of her affections?” Philip asked with a laugh.

  “Precisely.” Marcus grinned at his brother. “For the same reasons you have not made mention of it.”

  Philip inclined his head in acknowledgment of the fact.

  Marcus returned his attention to the list and scratched out the next two names. “Not sensible enough. It would be a home filled with folly,” he muttered about the first. “Too sensible. She would be thought a fool,” he said of the second and looked up at his brother, “which she is not.”