“We had to show the neighbours something in order to prove that you were – well, first quite ill in Brighton and then with the Gardiners in London. I think it has been, what, a letter each fortnight, Kitty?”
Kitty rolled her eyes. “At least! I made copies of each of them, Lydia; you will have to read them so that you will know what you wrote, particularly the letter I wrote to Maria Lucas on your behalf.”
“It was your sketches that brought me home, Kitty; I shall always be grateful to you. But tell me, is it true that Mr. Darcy wishes to marry Lizzy? I cannot fathom it.”
“A good deal has happened here at Longbourn while you were gone, Lydia,” Kitty said. She went on to explain that Jane was now engaged to Mr. Bingley, and that Lizzy was almost – almost! – engaged to Mr. Darcy.
“Yes, Mr. Darcy explained that I was the difficulty,” Lydia said.
“Mr. Darcy?” the Bennets asked together, shocked.
“Oh, indeed!” Lydia said, and then she explained how she had been discovered by the Countess of Matlock, who then summoned Mr. Darcy. “It was Mr. Darcy who brought me to the Gardiners. I did not even know they were acquainted. But he told me that Lizzy would not marry him if there was any chance that the union would damage his sister’s chances of marriage.”
Lydia sighed deeply before continuing. “I am sorry to have caused so much trouble, Lizzy. Jane, Mary, Kitty, Papa, I will say it every day. I am sorry, and it is entirely my own fault. Not Lizzy’s, not Kitty’s, not Papa’s – only my own. I hope you will be able to forgive me and let me stay here. If not, Aunt Gardiner says I may go back to Gracechurch Street, but I would much rather be here with all of you.”
“There is no question of that, Lydia,” Mr. Bennet said at once. “Yes, we are all upset and angry, but this is and always will be your home.”
“Though I have taken your place in Kitty’s room,” Mary said, coolly. “We have put all your things in the room that was once mine.”
“I see,” Lydia said. “Very well. But tell me, Mary, since you seem intent on seeing me punished, what would satisfy you?”
Mr. Bennet broke in. “It is for me to decide on an appropriate punishment, not Mary.”
“I know that, Papa, and I will submit without complaint to any punishment you choose to mete out. But I wonder what my sister Mary thinks on the subject. Mary, yes, I was terribly, terribly stupid. But I spent two nights huddled in a London doorway with no food or drink. Then I labored, scrubbing floors, emptying bedpans, and changing linens for almost four months. Do you doubt me? This is what I wore for those many weeks.”
Lydia opened her satchel and pulled out the thin grey uniform she had worn at Greenfield House. She held it up for Mary’s inspection before continuing. “I slept on a thin mattress on an iron bed, in a room so hot that sleep would not have been possible, were I not so exhausted. I hated myself the entire time for having given up so much for so little! I thought about what you would say, Mary, that I had traded my birthright for a mess of pottage. I did not know what pottage was, but I thought if I ever saw you again, I would ask you to explain it. I worried about my sisters, and prayed that my actions had not ruined them; then I decided it would be best to never go home again, so that everyone could say I was dead. Now I must live with the knowledge that I very likely killed my mother and caused my entire family no end of grief and trouble. Tell me, what else is necessary, in your view, to properly punish me?” Lydia’s voice trembled as she spoke.
Mary was silent for a long time, staring at her shoes. When she looked up, her eyes were wet. “I am sorry, Lydia; you have been punished more than enough. I am glad, more than I can say, that you are home again.”
“Thank you, Mary. I know there is still a good deal more to say, but might I be allowed to rest for a short while? I slept very little last night.”
“Of course, Lydia,” Mr. Bennet said at once.
“And I must be off,” Mr. Gardiner said, getting to his feet.
“I cannot tell you how grateful I am, Henry,” Mr. Bennet began, but his brother-by-marriage waved away his gratitude, shook his hand, and climbed into his coach.
Lydia was escorted to her new room by all her sisters. When she saw the small vase of flowers on the dresser, she first smiled and then laughed aloud. “How kind! How very kind, to put flowers in my room! I deserve no such consideration, but I am very grateful nonetheless.”
Mary muttered to Kitty. “She does not sound like Lydia at all! Are we certain this is actually our sister?”
But Lydia overheard the remark, for she turned at once and said, “The old Lydia died in a doorway in London; this new Lydia is grateful for any kindness shown to her.”
Mary was abashed, and quickly offered an apology, adding that the flowers had been Kitty’s doing.
Jane said, “You see that all your things are here, Lydia, including what you left behind at Brighton, though we shall all be in mourning clothes for some time yet. Some of Mama’s jewelry was saved for you and placed in your jewelry box. But let us go, sisters, and allow Lydia to rest.”
The sisters left Lydia in peace, closing the door gently behind them. As they descended the stairs, Mary whispered to Kitty, “I am still not certain that she is really Lydia!”
Lying on her bed, Lydia could only wonder why it was that she had never before appreciated her family.
Chapter Fifty-Three
With Lydia tucked away upstairs, Mr. Bennet, Jane, Elizabeth, Mary and Kitty gathered, as if by unspoken agreement, in the parlour.
“She must be punished in some fashion,” Mr. Bennet said. “I am certainly in agreement with that. But what? It must be something that is not noticeable by our neighbours, of course.”
“Do you not think she has been through enough?” Jane asked.
