Page 123 of Regrets

Thank you, thank you, again and again, for allowing Lydia to come to us! I very much dislike depriving you of your star pupil, but Georgiana is very much in need of distraction. I need not explain why, I think.

I still hope you and Mama will visit us soon, not least because you must see the Pemberley library! I had no idea there were this many books in all the world!

Your grateful daughter,

Lizzy

Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen

Lydia! Oh, heavens, I do not believe it!” Georgiana launched herself into Lydia’s arms. Happily, Lydia was as sturdy as ever, and she weathered Georgiana’s excesses easily, laughing into Georgiana’s hair.

“You live in a palace, Georgiana!” Lydia exclaimed, once Georgiana allowed her to speak.

“A palace? Oh, I suppose it looks like that. To me, it is just home.”

“Lizzy!” Lydia managed to get free of Georgiana to greet her sister.

“Lydia, it is lovely to see you. Come, give me a hug! For I have missed you every bit as much as has Georgiana.”

Lydia gladly complied, but soon she was demanding a tour of the house.

“Of course, Lydia, but Georgiana must accompany us, as I still do not know the provenance of all the artwork and furniture.”

Lydia leapt to her feet. “Yes! Show me your palace, Georgiana!”

Georgiana smiled and agreed, and the three of them soon left the room.

Lydia was not terribly interested in artwork or furniture, but she was awed by the sheer grandeur of Pemberley. The height of the ceilings, the intricacy of the plasterwork, the thickness of the rugs beneath their feet, the uniformed footmen stationed at every corridor! It was astonishing!

“You know, Lizzy,” she observed. “Had Mama any idea of Mr. Darcy’s wealth, Jane would have been thrown at him immediately.”

Elizabeth laughed. “You are absolutely right,” she said. “Charles told Papa about Pemberley soon after they had met, but Papa had the good sense to keep it to himself.”

***

Elizabeth had made certain that Lydia was given the room that shared a sitting room with Georgiana. After dinner was over and everyone had retired, Georgiana slipped out of her bed and walked silently to the door that opened to the sitting room. She gasped and fell back, her hand on her chest, for there was Lydia, her hand raised to knock on Georgiana’s door!

“You scared me half to death!” Georgiana gasped.

Lydia ignored this; she simply walked into Georgiana’s room and sat down on her bed. “Tell me everything,” she commanded.

Georgiana obeyed without hesitation. She poured out her fears, how she felt that she must be deficient in some way, and how very obviously stupid she was to have fallen for such a man! Her inability to detect his faults of character! Her fear of men! Her Uncle Henry Matlock had hugged her and she had flinched away from him! How unfair it was that weak little Anne was having a Season, and the mere thought of being in society like that made Georgiana want to hide under the bed! Her recurring dreams – nightmares, really – the weight of his body on hers, the foul smell of his breath, the glint in his eyes! How wrong, how unbelievably wrong it was that this had happened to her, that no one had told her what sort of man he really was! Wrong! Wrong! WRONG!

Lydia listened in silence.

When Georgiana had finished, tears pouring down her cheeks, Lydia said, calmly, “You know, if you had not been in Meryton, it likely would have been me.”

“You?”

“Oh, certainly. I do not doubt that it would have been easy enough for him to convince me to go off into the woods with him or run off with him or anything else he wanted. I knew, no more than did you, what sort of man he was, or that such men even existed!’

“I suppose…”

“And when I think about that, do you know how I feel?” Lydia pressed on.

Georgiana shook her head, her eyes wide.

“Angry.”