Page 66 of Near Pemberley

“Why are you helping me?”

The question seemed to surprise him.

“Because someone ought to.”

Lydia lowered her eyes.

“And because I would like to think someone would do the same for my sister.”

Lydia looked up at once. “You have a sister?”

“Yes, Georgiana. She is your age, I believe.”

Lydia hesitated before saying in a small voice, “But she would never behave as I have.”

Something altered faintly in Darcy’s expression then.

For several moments, he seemed uncertain whether to continue at all. He had guarded Georgiana’s history so carefully for so long that even now speaking of it aloud did not come easily.

Yet Lydia’s frightened shame – and perhaps Elizabeth’s face continually present in his thoughts – overcame his usual reserve.

“You are mistaken,” he said after a pause.

Lydia blinked in confusion.

“A year ago,” Darcy continued slowly, “my sister very nearly trusted Mr. Wickham herself.”

Lydia stared at him in astonishment.

Darcy moved away briefly towards the fireplace before continuing, as though the recollection itself rendered stillness difficult.

“She had recently left school. She was shy, affectionate, inexperienced, and inclined to think well of everyone who treated her kindly.” A trace of bitterness entered his voice. “Wickham understood that perfectly.”

Lydia listened now with complete attention.

“He persuaded her that he loved her. That he wished to marry her. She believed him entirely.” Darcy’s hand rested heavily against the mantel. “Had I arrived only a few hours later than I did, she would have eloped with him.”

Lydia’s eyes widened. “He wished to marry Miss Darcy?”

“Perhaps.” The answer came coldly. “He wished for her fortune.”

The bluntness of it silenced Lydia completely.

Darcy continued more quietly now. “My sister believed herself deeply attached to him at the time. She was persuaded that affection alone justified everything else.” His gaze lifted briefly towards Lydia. “That is not wickedness, Miss Lydia. It is youth – and trust placed where it ought not to have been.”

Lydia’s face crumpled. She shook her head.

“I know I was foolish. I thought what a marvellous thing it would be if I married first among all my sisters. I thought I was very clever… Miss Darcy was saved.”

The words carried such misery that Darcy understood what she truly meant: and I was not.

He looked at her without speaking. Then he said with calm firmness, “You are not beyond saving either.”

Fresh tears gathered instantly in Lydia’s eyes. “I thought…” She swallowed hard. “I thought once a girl ran away, everything was over forever.”

Darcy’s expression darkened slightly, yet he tried to sound soft. “For some people, society is eager to make it so.”

The bitterness beneath the words surprised even Lydia.