Page 118 of Regrets

Aunt Eleanor has agreed to host me for the rest of the Season! Her modiste has my measurements from when we purchased my ballgown, and she has already been set to work to make a whole new wardrobe for me!

To think that I will be sponsored by the Earl and Countess of Matlock! Doubtless there will be no end of parties and balls and Venetian breakfasts and I know not what else! Mrs. Jenkinson is to come with us, I suppose that is the only bad thing. How I wish it were you coming with us instead, dear cousin!

Your loving and very excited cousin,

Anne

Georgiana could not even think of replying to that letter just now. Instead, once she finished her breakfast and assured Lizzy that she was well enough, she went back upstairs to compose a letter.

Dear Lydia,

We are all well here at Pemberley, and hope you are the same!

What are you doing with your time? It must feel quite odd to have three sisters suddenly out of the house! Of course, Jane and Mary are quite nearby, but that cannot be the same as having them at Longbourn with you. Are you and Kitty still running off to Meryton whenever possible?

Lydia, tell me honestly, do you still think of what happened to us this past winter? I find that I think about it all the time. I wish I did not, but it seems that I cannot help it. Tell me if it is the same for you. There is no one else who truly understands how dreadful that day was.

You affectionate friend,

Georgiana

Chapter One Hundred and Eight

Lydia was surprised at how much she was enjoying her lessons with her father. She had, she thought, scarce known him before! Now she understood that he had a dry, sarcastic wit; sometimes he used it to harm others, but a good deal of the time he was simply enjoying his own cleverness.

She had no hesitation in telling him when he had said something that hurtful. She thought it was likely that Lizzy had not done so, as she had quite worshipped their father until their Great Misunderstanding. Lydia informed him that she had always been ready to learn from him, but it had always been obvious that he held her in disdain, so why would she have approached him?

Mr. Bennet had to admit that she was not wrong. Moreover, Mr. Bennet found his youngest daughter to be quite sharp, both mentally and verbally. Now that he knew her better, he had no difficulty in understanding how it was that she had been able to drop a rock on George Wickham’s head. There was some part of her that had instantly understood the situation, arrived at the solution, and then taken action before the rest of her mind had even understood what was happening.

He admired her, that was the plain truth of it.

She proved to be every bit as adept at mathematics as his beloved Lizzy, now lost to the wilds of Derbyshire, though not quite as quick as languages. It was best to learn languages when one is young, of course, so Lydia had to work that much harder, as she was already sixteen. He did not wish to exhaust her, so he let her set the pace.

Now that he had his pupil, the absence of the three older girls was not nearly so painful. Indeed, Jane and Mary came to visit at least three times a week, and dinner invitations were exchanged with regularity.

But now things were about to change again, for Mary and Mr. Rochester had announced their intention of moving to London!

Mrs. Bennet had been quite brave about it during the dinner, saying, “That sounds like an excellent idea all the way ‘round, Mary, for you will have the Gardiners nearby.”

“Yes; I have already written to them to tell them of our plans!”

No one ever considered the parents, Mr. Bennet thought later that night, as his wife wept on his shoulder.

***

But in this he was wrong, for Lydia had observed her parents’ faces during the discussion. “Papa,” she said, when she came to his study the next day. “It seems to me you and Mama are upset about both Lizzy and Mary moving away.”

“Ah, that is what little birds do, Lydia,” Mr. Bennet said, looking down at his desk. “They fly the nest.”

“And what do the parent birds do?” Lydia wondered.

“Hmmm,” Mr. Bennet said, thoughtfully. “They raise a new batch of birds.”

Chapter One Hundred and Nine

Elizabeth was beginning to feel almost wild. She was delighted in her marriage, ecstatic to be alone with Fitzwilliam once everyone went upstairs at night, nearly worshipful of the estate with its apparently millions of trees and lakes and streams and ponds! Yet, it seemed that the happier she was, the more unhappy poor Georgiana was. And how could Elizabeth truly feel happy when Georgiana was not?

Was it possible that Georgiana felt neglected by her brother? She found her husband in his study and put it to him at once. “Fitzwilliam, might she be – well, jealous?”