Elizabeth’s brow arched. “You are correct in that last, if not the first. I am pleased for her, Lydia.”
“But jealous all the same, and I confess, I am as well. If only George had turned out to be worth a farthing!” Lydia sighed and propped herself back upon her elbows on the bed. “Now, only look at me! What is it they say among the farmers? ‘In the family way’? That’s what I am, Lizzy, a silly old cow wondering where her bull has gone.”
“You are well rid of him, Lydia,” Elizabeth assured her, though with a private smile.
“I think so as well, until I recollect that in half a year I shall have his child. The worthless cad! Sometimes I wish I could have him sitting right here, just in front of me, so I could pull his chest hairs out one by one!”
Elizabeth gulped, her eyes wide. “Lydia!”
“What? Oh, did you not know that men had hair on their chest? They do, you know—a great thick pelt of it, from their necks all the way down to their—”
“Lydia!”
“Oh!” Lydia groaned and flopped backward on the bed. “Sometimes I forget that you have never loved a man, Lizzy,” she apologised. “In every other respect, you are so much better to talk to than Kitty or Mary, for you seem to understand something of what I feel.”
“There are certain elements I do not wish to understand!”
“Lizzy,” Lydia sat up, her face growing as serious as she was capable of making it, “do promise me one thing.”
Elizabeth arched a brow. “Do I dare?”
Lydia nodded vehemently. “When you do find a man you can love, let him love you without embarrassment. Do not try to play the modest, proper little wife like Jane, for it would never suit you. If he gives you his affections, you must return them with the same ardour. Oh, how it will make you come alive! That is the greatest blow of all, you know. I shared with George the whole of my heart, little as it is, and I thought he had done the same. What a fool I am!”
Elizabeth had begun listening to Lydia’s advice with open scepticism, but her expression softened quickly to flattered tenderness, and soon after that to pity. “Perhaps you were a fool to believe his words, and certainly to be persuaded to his wishes, but you were not a fool to love, Lydia. You may regret being deceived and are now sorry to be alone, but you were honest with him and left him in no doubt of your own affections. In that, you may take some comfort.”
“Such comfort as it is! Is it possible to hate someone as much as you ever thought to love them?”
“I should think so. They are both the extremes of passion, are they not?”
“Such a vast swing it is! Sometimes I do not know my right hand from my left, I am so confused. Oh, Lizzy, the nights are the worst!”
“Do you think?”
“Why, of course! It is then that I dream that he is still there, with his arms about me so….” Lydia stopped, her face crunching painfully.
“… And he whispers your name,” Elizabeth supplied softly, her eyes strangely dark. “And his fingers tangle in your hair, and you can rest your head upon his chest, and there is such a sense of… ofhome. You may feel safe there, with the moon hanging over you and long shadows covering over your fears. For a few moments, you are in that life you hoped for—he is so real that you can almost feel his warmth and hear his voice, but…” her brow clouded, “… his face is dim, and growing ever more so with time. The only time you see him clearly is when he comes to you—you cannot recall him, no matter how your heart aches to, but the nights are when he is the nearest. The days—oh! the days are far colder than the nights!” Elizabeth swallowed hard.
Lydia was staring at her, a hand on her hip and her mouth hanging open. “Why, Lizzy Bennet!” she gasped. “Youdolove someone, don’t you? Is he handsome?”
Elizabeth stiffened. “No! I only imagine what it must be like. I read a great deal, you know.”
“Those are the kinds of books that Kitty reads, not you. You cannot fool me, Lizzy.”
“I have no secret lover hidden away, Lydia. You may save yourself the trouble of searching.”
“Yet you cannot resist dreaming of him? Yes, that seems creditable.”
Elizabeth favoured her sister with an intimidating scowl. “Do not you think there is some measure of peace, at least, when there are no other expectations upon you and you may think on the past as it brings you pleasure? I should think the mornings would be the hardest, not the nights.”
Lydia frowned. “Or the afternoons, ifyourmood is any indication. I have never seen you so cross as you have been of late! You are like to fly into a snit at the least provocation. Why, I thought you would bite Kitty’s head off yesterday when she was coughing.”
“It was maddening,” Elizabeth agreed, “but I have no desire to create such a scene. It would have felt more satisfying to go to some secret place and thrash something soundly, like a man would.”
Lydia’s eyes widened. “Why don’t we? Lizzy, stand up!”
Elizabeth complied, watching with astonishment when Lydia picked up her pillow. “This,” Lydia held it up between them, “this is for lying to me!” She drew back her hand, making an awkward sort of fist, and slammed it into the pillow. The hapless article landed inoffensively at her feet, but she was upon it in an instant. “This,” she cried with growing excitement, “is for tricking me into loving you, andthis,” she threw another wild swing, “is for lying to me!”
“You already said that once,” Elizabeth objected.
