Lydia, clearly unimpressed, countered, “Respected? I would rather be adored and envied. And accomplishments? What good are they if they do not catch me a handsome husband?”
Elizabeth responded to this swiftly, chidingly. “Lydia, a woman with substance is far more appealing than one with empty charms. No man wants to marry a trollop who flirts with every gentleman she meets. A husband worth having will value a lady who brings more to the union than superficial allure. Your future lies in cultivating a character that will be admired, not just noticed.”
Lydia huffed, crossing her arms in defiance and glaring at her sisters, aunt, and the countess. “Well, we shall see about that. Once I am married to a wealthy gentleman, we can discuss the importance of all these accomplishments. Until then, I will do as I want. You cannot make me go to school.”
Over the next few days, Elizabeth and Jane frequently repeated this conversation with Lydia. Lydia remained defiant, though she eventually capitulated with a promise of being permitted to shop if she attended school without a fuss and did as the teachers required. Any attempts to escape or refusals to comply with the rules would cost her both pin money and the ability to shop. This, along with the promise of some time in London at the end of the school term, eventually garnered Lydia’s tentative acceptance, though she was still disinclined to the idea and hoped to find a better option.
However, Elizabeth soon began to notice that not all was well with Lydia. At the picnic, her youngest had been her usual loud and boisterous self with her cousins that day, but since then, she had become increasingly withdrawn, her laughter sounding hollow, her smiles forced. Despite her efforts to maintain a facade of normalcy, Lydia’s nerves were stretched thin. She became increasingly withdrawn, her laughter sounding hollow, her smiles forced. Elizabeth and their aunt noticed the change in her sister’s demeanour, her brow furrowing with concern.
“Lydia, is everything well?” Elizabeth asked one evening, as the family sat together in the drawing room of Pemberley, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows across the walls.
Lydia hesitated, torn between the desire to confide in her sister and the fear of burdening her with her troubles. But as she met Elizabeth’s gaze, she saw the genuine concern reflected in her eyes, and she knew she couldn’t keep her secret any longer.
“Elizabeth, I… I saw Mr. Wickham,” Lydia admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Here, on the ground of Pemberley, the day of the picnic.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in alarm, her hand reaching out to grasp Lydia’s. “Are you certain?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry.
Lydia nodded; her throat constricted with emotion. “Yes. He… he approached me when I was out for a walk. It was… unsettling. I admit I was outside by myself; I had slipped the guard and wanted a few minutes alone.”
Belying the tense set of her jaw, Elizabeth squeezed her sister’s hand reassuringly. “You did the right thing by coming to me,Lydia. We must tell William at once. He will know how to handle this.”
Lydia felt a surge of gratitude for her sister’s support. She had not always been a good sister, but all the girls had grown closer together since their departure from Longbourn. Not only that, but the encounter with Wickham had left her unsettled and afraid.
“What did he say to you, Lyddie?” Elizabeth asked.
For a moment, Lydia was lost in thought, recalling what had transpired. Then, she began. “I felt restless after the picnic and was still upset about the idea of going to school. I was a little anxious about what Aunt Gardiner and Lady Matlock had said to me about my behaviour, and I have been watching how Georgiana behaves. Kitty and Mary started spending more time with her and Anne and I was feeling … a bit lost, I suppose. So, I snuck out for a walk, intentionally avoiding everyone’s notice.”
Lydia paused to think, and Elizabeth wisely kept quiet. She knew better than to push Lydia when she was like this and so allowed her to speak. “Since you returned from Kent, everything has been different. Everything I thought I understood—what Mama said about catching husbands—nothing was as it once was. I was walking quickly, thinking about these things when I ran into Mr. Wickham. I asked him what he was doing at Pemberley and moved to put some space between us. He was … hateful about your marriage to Mr. Darcy and the way he looked at me …” she trailed off, shuddering in recollection. “I was frightened,” she said in a small voice.
Elizabeth reached out to clasp her sister’s hands and squeeze them, whispering, “What did he say to you?”
“He asked about your marriage and tried to get me to stay longer. I am not certain what he intended, but the look in his eye …” again she paused, her eyes wide. “…I think he would have hurt me if he had the chance. He tried to block me, but I ran away as fast as I could toward the gardens and people. He followed for a moment, but as soon as I was in sight of the house, he stopped.”
Elizabeth, growing concerned at the blank expression on her sister’s face, asked hesitantly, “Lydia?”
“I am well now, Lizzy, but he frightened me. I know I should have spoken up sooner, but I was uncertain what to do or who to tell. Mr. Darcy has been so kind already and I hate to be more of a bother to you.”
Elizabeth sighed. “You should have spoken to someone sooner. It would not have been a bother,” she agreed, her words scolding, but her tone gentle.
“I know,” Lydia said, her eyes fixed on her hands in her lap.
Darcy approached then, having seen from the look on Elizabeth’s face that she was upset. “What is wrong, my dear?”
Elizabeth looked pointedly at her sister, who nodded almost imperceptibly. “William, Lydia was approached by Wickham on the day of the picnic. She had left the house without an escort, and he encountered her just on the edge of the garden.”
Though he said nothing, it was evident from the tightness of his jaw that he was upset at this and while Elizabeth knew where his anger was directed, Lydia did not.
“I am sorry for not saying something sooner, Mr. Darcy,” she said in a quiet voice, so unlike Lydia’s normal self that Elizabeth stared at her in surprise.
The fear in her voice made Darcy turn to her in surprise. “I am not angry with you, Lydia. You did know better than to leave the house without an escort, and I hope you have learned your lesson. Presently, I am more concerned with learning what Wickham intends and thinking about how to act. It is unfortunate that Richard and my uncle are on the way to Wales with Lady Catherine as I could use Richard’s assistance.”
Both ladies nodded at this. “Then you are not upset with me?” Lydia asked again.
Darcy smiled at his youngest sister by marriage. “No, dear one, I am not. While I might have wished you said something sooner, you have done so now. We will need to be more cautious for the nonce, and I will inform the staff that they need to be on their guard.”
Then, looking down at his watch, he realised it was late enough that he could suggest they all retire. He met briefly with Mr. Gardiner before retiring to the room shared with his wife who was sitting at her vanity brushing her hair, already attired in a night rail and dressing gown.
“What will you do, William?” she asked as he entered. She stood and walked to him, pressing a light kiss to his cheek before she began performing the office of his valet.
