Page 41 of The Engagement at Longbourn

“I need to speak to you.”

Darcy began to close his book.

“Alone,” Lydia added.

They went into the small parlour.

Lydia shut the door. Then she burst into tears.

Elizabeth’s alarm sharpened. “Lydia?”

“I have done something very wicked.”

Elizabeth took both her hands. “Tell me.”

“I wrote to Wickham.”

Elizabeth became still.

“I know you all think him horrid now, but I thought you were wrong, and he was so charming, and he said he had no one, and I thought—Oh, do not look like that!”

“I am not angry.”

“You look angry.”

“I am trying not to look frightened.”

That sobered Lydia. She pulled the folded letter from her sleeve. “He wants me to help him.”

Elizabeth read it.

Her face lost colour. “Have you answered?”

“No.”

“Have you agreed to meet him?”

“Not this time.”

“This time?”

Lydia winced.

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “How many times have you met him privately?”

“Twice.”

“Lydia.”

“Only by the edge of the camp! And Mrs. Forster was near once. Nearly.”

Elizabeth sat down.

Lydia began crying harder. “I knew you would be angry.”

“I am afraid, not angry. There is a difference.”

“He said Mr. Darcy ruined him.”