Jane and Elizabeth were seated together at a chessboard, though Jane was now resting her cheek on her palm and staring in hopeless boredom at her losing side. She glanced up in renewed interest at Elizabeth’s question to Lydia.
“Only out for a moment, Lizzy. Sakes! Don’t I visit Maria whenever I please? She has been wanting her bonnet for Sunday morning, and I need to return it.”
Jane and Elizabeth glanced at each other. “But it is late,” Elizabeth reasoned. “Why now? You should have gone out a few hours ago. Or wait for tomorrow.”
“Oh, Lizzy, why don’t you mind your own business? It is only around the corner.”
“Are you certain you will be safe enough?” asked Jane.
Lydia rolled her eyes and offered an indelicate snort as she turned away to the door. “Where is your sense of adventure, Jane? I’ll be back straight away.”
Lydia tramped out, closing the door with a reverberating crash that made her sisters flinch, then shrug to one another. Elizabeth and Jane resumed their game, but it was over too soon. Elizabeth claimed Jane’s Queen, and the elder sister held up her hands in surrender. “Enough, Lizzy. I think I shall never learn this dreadful game.”
“You did well, Jane. You lasted twice as long this time. I ought to have cautioned you when you moved your Knight.”
Jane shook her head and yawned. “It would not have mattered, for if not the Knight, you would have found another opening. Goodness, where has Lydia got to?”
Elizabeth frowned mildly. “It has not even been half an hour, has it?”
“Yes, but I thought she was only stepping around for a moment. Lizzy, I do not like it. Lydia has never been cautious enough, and going by herself….”
“Should we tell Uncle?”
“I heard he was out for the evening. Our aunt said he meant to take dinner over at the mayor’s house with the sheriff and the colonel and one or two other principals about town.”
Elizabeth nibbled her lip as she re-set the chessboard, then rose with decision. “Come, Jane, let us go after her.”
“What? Lizzy, how is that wise?”
Elizabeth found a shawl on the hook by the door and twirled it over her shoulders. “We will take Kitty—Mary is reading and will not wish to go anywhere. Three of us together will be safe enough, and we can see Lydia back home. I know you—you won’t have a moment’s peace until she has returned.”
Kitty was not so easily persuaded as Jane, for she had just recovered some of her ribbons from Lydia’s drawers and was busily tucking them out of the way, the better to keep them from being pilfered again. At length, however, Elizabeth tempted her with the thought of visiting Maria Lucas. The three girls walked in a tight cluster—avoiding the noisy saloon as they passed and hurrying up the dusky street.
It was not until they reached the house at the corner that they began to think something was amiss. Mrs Lucas met them at the door but appeared baffled when they claimed to be following Lydia to escort her home. Maria appeared a moment later, looking just as confused as her mother.
“I haven’t seen Lydia all day,” she declared. “Why, she never said anything to me about coming by tonight. I am sure she went to Lucy Purvis’s house.”
Elizabeth and Jane exchanged looks. “No.” They shook their heads in unison. Lydia could scarcely abide Lucy Purvis.
“I am very sorry, girls,” Mrs Lucas apologised. “Perhaps she is already home, and you just missed her.”
Elizabeth frowned to herself, but thanked Mrs Lucas and turned away. “I suppose she is right. Most likely, Lydia was over sneaking sweets from Aunt’s storeroom, and didn't want us to suspect her.”
“Oh, Lizzy, you don’t think she was stealing!”
“She would define it as ‘borrowing,’ I imagine, but whatever you call it, the result is the same. I have caught her at it before.”
“Then let us come round by the back door and surprise her!” cried Kitty, who was eager for a bit of justice for her sister. “You have the key in your pocket still, don’t you, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth patted down her skirts and nodded. Several weighty objects were in her pockets, just as they always were. “I only hope Lydia has not got into trouble.”
Pemberley
September 1900
“Iwillnotdoit.” Georgiana crossed her arms and stared adamantly back at Darcy, her blue eyes glinting and her lower lip rigid.
“You very well will do it,” he demanded. “What is so ghastly about Mrs Fitzwilliam that you refuse to be a friend to her?”
