∞∞∞
The following day at Longbourn began pleasantly enough, with the household gathering together for breakfast and discussing the day’s plans. That peace, however, vanished the moment Lydia declared her intention of going into Meryton.
“Absolutely not!” shrieked Mrs. Bennet. “Do you not remember what happened to Mrs. Long’s eldest niece last week? I told you girls right then that you would not be allowed to go into the village without a footman.”
Lydia groaned, flinging herself back in her chair. “Oh, Mama! That is so unfair. We always go alone!”
“Yes, but things are different now,” Elizabeth interjected, glancing at her Jane. “With so many displaced people wandering from London, Meryton is not as safe as it was.”
“Unhappy as the event must have been for Miss Long, we must remember that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable,” Mary interjected solemnly, peering over her spectacles at the youngest Bennet daughter. “One false step will involve you in endless ruin; you cannot be too guarded in your behavior towards the undeserving of the other sex.”
Kitty let out a long-suffering sigh, but Lydia was not so easily subdued.
“Well, that’s just ridiculous,” she snapped. “Why should I be punished because of some dirty beggars? It is notmyfault people lost their homes in the fire and have come here! I still have mine, and I want to go to Meryton—without some great, lumbering footman breathing down my neck like a watchdog!”
“Lydia,” Elizabeth said sternly, “please see reason. Miss Long is fortunate that the vagrant only made off with her reticule. Had Sir William not happened to be nearby, much worse things could have happened.”
“Is there not a way we can help those poor people?” Jane’s large blue eyes filled with tears. “They must be in truly desperate straits, to behave in such a way.”
“What does it matter?” Lydia burst out. “Nothing would happen to me, for I am quite taller than Miss Long—than any of you! I should be just fine.”
“No, Lydia,” Mrs. Bennet said angrily. “You will do as you are told.”
Lydia stomped her foot hard enough to rattle the dishes on the table, causing Mr. Bennet to lower his morning paper and glower at her over the pages. “Lydia, your shrieking is far less pleasant than usual, and I am rapidly losing my patience. Either lower your voice, or I shall be forced to consider the unthinkable— agreeing with your mother.”
Lydia gasped as if she had been struck. “Papa!”
“I do not make idle threats, my dear.” He raised his paper once more. “Besides, your mother is right. The roads are unsafe.”
Lydia’s eyes flashed with fury. “That is ridiculous! The only danger in Meryton is that it might bore me to death.”
“Then I suppose we must all prepare for your funeral,” Elizabeth quipped with a smirk.
Lydia screeched, turning back to her mother with an expression of utmost betrayal. “Mama, you cannot allow this! I shall be the only girl who is treated like a child!”
Mrs. Bennet dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “Oh, Lydia, my love, you are my baby, but you must listen to your father! I could not bear it if something happened to you.”
Lydia let out a high-pitched growl of frustration and flung herself onto the nearest settee. “This is so unjust! I might as well be locked away in a convent!”
“I may consider the possibility,” Mr. Bennet said dryly.
Elizabeth fought back a laugh as Lydia began to wail.
It was at this precise moment that Mrs. Gardiner arrived. She entered the room just in time to witness Lydia throwing herself backward against the cushion of her chair in an exaggerated show of despair. Her sharp gaze swept over the room, taking in Kitty’s sulky expression, Mrs. Bennet’s flustered distress, and Mr. Bennet’s smirk.
Her brow rose. “A tantrum at the breakfast table, Fanny? This is exactly what I meant the other day. Even Beth is better behaved than this.”
Mrs. Bennet let out a heavy sigh, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “I do see it, Maddie, I do… but what am I to do? She gets so upset.”
At this, Lydia spun toward them, her face a picture of outrage. “What are you talking about?” she shrieked. “Why are you comparing me to some child? I am practically a grown woman! I was out last year, and Beth is barely eleven!”
Mrs. Gardiner fixed her with a cool stare. “And that is precisely the problem, Lydia. In London, girls are not ‘out’ in society before seventeen. When they are let out earlier, they are often spoiled, poorly behaved, and far too immature to make wise decisions about courtship and marriage.”
Lydia let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a sob and a shriek. “This is cruel—unforgivable—I will NEVER forgive you, Aunt Gardiner! You are SO unkind, and I hate you!”
Mrs. Gardiner gestured toward Lydia’s stamping foot and flailing hands. “And this display is only proving my point.”
Lydia let out an indignant screech. “You do not know anything! You do not get to tell me what to do! Mama, are you going to let her—”
