Lydia crossed her arms and turned her face away, resting her chin on her shoulder. “No,” she whispered. “Not until after… but by then it would have been too late! Ihadto run away with him then, for he said it was the only way we could be married.”
Elizabeth hissed out a low growl, one unruly hand gesticulating again her grievances. “Tell me, Lydia, how could he have gotten you in such a position in the first place? Surely some part of you knew it was wrong!”
Lydia turned round, wounded eyes back to her sister. “That is your question, is it? You have waited a long time to ask me that.”
Elizabeth bit back another scowl, clenching her teeth, then sighed. “No, it is not. I wanted to ask you… not that it matters of course, except perhaps to the restoration of your sensibilities.”
Lydia huffed in annoyance and flipped her head over upon her arms. “What do you mean, Lizzy? You think I ought to be going about as if nothing had happened?”
“Far from it! Your sentiments were engaged, were they not? I wondered—now that he has been gone some while and you have had an opportunity to reflect—do you think you actually loved him? You were happy for a time, I think, before he left. Can you say with any certainty what your feelings for him truly were?”
“What they were then?” Lydia paused thoughtfully. “I suppose I do not know. I fancied myself in love, of course. Certainly, I felt wonderful when I was with him. He was so charming, and the way he would touch me—oh, Lizzy, you cannot know how delicious it is to kiss a man, to be petted and told you are beautiful, and to have him hold you and—”
“Perhaps it is best if you go no further,” Elizabeth held up a pleading hand. It had been nauseating enough when she had chaperoned Jane and her excellent Mr Bingley through their nearly chaste engagement. To think of such a scoundrel as she knew Wickham to be, practising his bedevilments on a tender girl of just sixteen, made her positively ill.
Lydia had flickered to life again as she spoke of her romance, but at Elizabeth’s dismay she wilted once more. “Of course, you are right. I only wished for you to understand how perfectly thrilling it all seemed! I could not resist, and I did not wish to try.”
Elizabeth’s expression was one of disbelief. “I cannot think what you knew was truly love, of the lasting sort. To my understanding, real loveisthrilling, but also frustrating, inspiring, agonising—it is the embodiment of all other emotions expressed simultaneously, all concentrated on the being and actions of a single person. To drink in their presence would be…” she blinked rather quickly for a moment, “… would beexquisite,” she whispered, for the strength of her voice temporarily failed her. “Even should that person never return your feelings, simply knowing they are alive in the world—”
Here, Elizabeth drew a broken sigh, and her pronouns became more personal. “With the ripple of his influence overspreading and flowing through even the farthest corner of my own life! And to be bereft of him—I can think of no more shattering loss. How is one to go on?”
Lydia presumed Elizabeth’s words for sympathy, and some softness warmed her. “Well, I can answer for the loss, but perhaps it is not the same as you imagine. Surely, I hoped to be married first of all my sisters, and those few days suited my every notion of happiness, but I cannot say what I knew with George was whatyouwould call love.”
Elizabeth lifted a brow, her lashes curiously thick and clumped. “That is a very practical reply. I had not looked for such from you, Lydia.”
“I have had nothing to do but to think, and so I have done.”
“And what is your greatest regret?”
“Oh! Where shall I begin? I ought to have punched that dog in the face when he first approached me!”
Elizabeth had been determined to remain dour and disapproving, but she could not help a laugh, despite herself. “Hardly the thing for a lady!” she chuckled.
“When have I ever bothered to behave the lady?”
“You have a point,” Elizabeth conceded.
“Lizzy,” the girl leaned forward, her expression suddenly grave. “There is more… so much more.”
Elizabeth’s eyes wavered uncertainly over her sister, darting from side to side as if she could understand more than words could tell. “Do you wish to speak of it?”
“No… but it is killing me! I must, I think, but I doubt you shall wish to hear.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Whatever her folly, the abandoned bride before her, her own sister, was no more than a child. Could she truly deny the relief of the girl’s feelings, if all that was to be asked was to give audience to Lydia’s sorrows? “Tell me if you wish, Lydia,” she sighed.
Lydia leaned closer, her eyes haunted and her breath no more than a whisper. “Mr Darcy.”
Elizabeth felt that familiar prickling over her skin, up the back of her neck and to the crown of her head. Her breath came hot and shallow as she forced her mouth to form a reply. “What do you mean, Lydia?”
“Lizzy, you were wrong about him! He was not nearly so proud as you always made him out to be. He helped us, or tried to. I am terrified now to think what might have happened to me if he had never found us! At least I am home now, but I shudder to remember the girls at that house. I might have become one of them, but for his interference. When I think how poorly I spoke of him, I am sure I deserve to be struck down by lightning! I think he intended for George to treat me well, and from what Aunt Gardiner told me, had paid handsomely to ensure it. It is only a pity that matters turned out as they did, but the poor man did not mean to die, after all.”
“What more do you know, Lydia?” Elizabeth dropped her chin, her gaze boring hungrily into her sister’s. “Did you speak with him?”
“Of course, I did! He was very disapproving and short with George, but though he scowled a great deal, I think he treated me as well as he ever treated any lady. I might even say he was extraordinarily kind, but such extreme measures he demanded for my disposition and the arrangements to be made! I began to fear George would never agree to all that Mr Darcy insisted upon, and so I was angry with him for that. His manners never did recommend him, you know, but I suppose in the end he was most considerate of my needs.
“He brought me a whole trousseau of fresh garments, for mine had mostly been left in Brighton, and he gave me note paper to send a letter to all of you, and such a fine carriage to ride in to Cheapside. Why, he even paid for a trained ladies’ maid to come to my aunt’s house while I lived there! You know, I begin to doubt whether he ever owed George any money. I tend to believe the opposite was the case. At any rate, he was certainly generous toward me.”
Elizabeth offered a wan smile, her eyes beginning to burn.And to think such a man should be forever lost to me!“I am glad to hear it, Lydia,” she managed in a garbled voice. “He behaved as every gentleman ought, and as few ever would.”
