Page 84 of Twice Chosen

Mr. Bennet heard of this new enthusiasm and, after recovering from surprise, began allowing Lydia to sit with him when he reviewed certain estate expenses. The first session lasted twelve minutes before Lydia became bored. The second lasted twenty. By winter she could calculate feed costs for the stable faster than Kitty.

"I thought arithmetic was hateful," Elizabeth said one afternoon.

Lydia shrugged. "It is hateful when numbers belong to someone else."

Elizabeth laughed. "That may be the wisest thing you have ever said."

"Do not tell Mary."

The change did not make Lydia solemn. She still spent too much on ribbons. She still laughed at serious men. She still believed a ball without dancing was evidence of failed civilization.

But she began to understand that competence was another form of freedom.

Elizabeth thought of the Lydia who had once depended upon Wickham for every shilling and felt gratitude so sharp it hurt.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Wickham's Last Attempt

Wickham came to London seeking Darcy.

Darcy had expected something.

Not this.

His valet announced the visitor with visible disapproval. Wickham entered smiling as though they were old friends separated by inconvenience rather than decades of betrayal.

"Darcy."

"Wickham."

"You have made Hertfordshire uncomfortable."

Darcy remained standing behind his desk. "Did I?"

"You know you did. Very clever. Improving your manners before blackening mine."

"I did not invent your debts."

"No."

"Nor your signatures."

"No."

Wickham walked toward the fire. "What do you want?"

"Again, nothing."

"Everyone wants something."

Darcy thought of Elizabeth, his children, one lost life and another begun. "Not always."

Wickham laughed softly. Then he said, "Georgiana."

Darcy went cold.

Wickham saw and smiled. "There he is."