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“Perhaps you might convince Mrs Long to take you with her instead,” Kitty suggested.
They all looked at her incredulously. Mrs Long was the last person to whom one would admit the truth of Lizzy’s status at Longbourn, or from whom to expect a rescue.
“Perhaps I could become a companion,” Lizzy suggested, hoping Jane might take the hint.
“But you have no experience, no references! Who would employ you?” Lydia asked.
“Lydia, it is not the who. Any position would be a degradation!” Jane declared.
“Perhaps…perhaps, Jane, you might be able to do so?” Lizzy dared suggest, when it became clear that Jane would never think of it herself. “Not now, of course, but after your marriage? Not for payment, obviously. Only as a help and comfort to you?”
An awkward silence ensued. Please, please, please, Lizzy thought, holding herself very still.
Jane opened her mouth, shut it again; it was several moments before she spoke. “Naturally, you must not go into service. It is only…Miss Bingley is barely reconciled to our marriage as it is. I would not like to disturb Mr Bingley’s peace, with Mama so likely to change her mind.”
Lizzy felt the colour rush to her cheeks and glanced at the portrait of Great-Great-Grandfather Bennet. Did not his lip curl ever so slightly at Lizzy’s predicament? Unsurprisingly, Jane refused to believe that Lizzy’s position in the household had grown so tenuous.
“I am certain by the time your wedding is past, she will be more accepting,” Lizzy assured, trying to keep the desperation from her voice. “If it were discovered that I had entered service, it would be humiliating for her too. Only if word were to get out, of course. It might not.”
She did not threaten her sisters with publicising such an outcome. Firstly, the very idea of anyone knowing was terrible. Secondly, she did love them, faults and all. Lizzy would never intentionally harm their reputations.
“I-I suppose I could mention the idea to Mr Bingley. After the wedding, that is,” Jane said carefully, obviously terrified at the thought.
“To be sure,” Lydia interpolated. “We would not want to cast the line before the bait is well hooked.”
Jane gave her a hurt look, which Lydia contrived not to notice.
But it was Kitty who voiced aloud Lizzy’s worst fears. “What if this uncle is wicked? What if he-he places you with a cruel mistress?”
Lydia chimed in. “What if he sells you to a brothel?” She sounded both horrified and intrigued.
“What novels you read, Lydia! I shall not go to this uncle, of course! I will send a note to Mrs Long early Friday, saying plans have changed and that I will ride with you, Lydia, when you depart with Harriet to Ramsgate the same day. And then, I will hide.”
“Hide? But where? How?” Jane, Kitty, and Lydia asked nearly in unison. Even Mary could not continue her pretence of reading, gawking at Lizzy in astonishment.
“The woods between Longbourn and Netherfield’s boundaries are seldom visited by anyone,” Lizzy explained, trying to sound rational and calm, instead of desperate and terrified. “The old woodsman’s cottage is vacant, since our father built the bigger one. The weather is good, and I have warm clothing for nights. Mama did not say I must leave my belongings.”
“That is because most of your clothing belongs in the rag bag,” Lydia scoffed.
This was not at all true, Lizzy knew, because neither of her parents wanted the neighbourhood to remark upon any difference between Lizzy and her sisters. Her dresses were simply duller and darker, without decoration or trimmings—long ago, she had learnt the wisdom of calling no attention to herself and asking for nothing. Still, her wardrobe was sturdy and well made, if disagreeable in other ways, and for assemblies, Kitty, Lydia, and Jane had all shared their ribbons and lace to help her look more presentable.
“How would you eat? What of wolves, or other forest creatures?” asked Kitty fearfully.
“You would grow dirty and wild,” Jane added, horrified.
Lydia rolled her eyes. “You are always so dramatic, both of you. I never heard of wolves in Longbourn’s woods, and Lizzy, no one is going to sneak out there to feed you with contraband from Mama’s kitchen. Instead, we will make your lies into truth: you will leave with Harriet and her aunt on a visit to the shore in my place.”
At this proclamation, all the girls turned to Lydia—Mary, Kitty, and Jane with astonishment, and Lizzy with some suspicion.
Mary spoke first, unable to help herself. “Lydia Bennet, after the detestable fits of temper you threw in order to gain permission to miss Jane’s wedding, were I your parents, I would not permit you to beg off now!”
“You have certainly been looking forward to spending the rest of the summer on the coast,” Lizzy hurriedly put in, before Lydia and Mary began bickering. “You have talked of nothing else this age.” It was inconceivable that Lydia would relinquish her longed-for, begged-for holiday simply as a good deed.
“That was before,” Lydia replied complacently.
“Before what?” Kitty asked.
Lydia’s expression turned sly. “Before I learnt that an entire regiment will soon be stationed near to Meryton, and for the rest of the year! I overheard Mr Goulding discussing it with Papa, and I have been wondering how to avoid going away ever since. This will do nicely. Harriet hasn’t the will to overrule me—she always does whatever I say, though she is three years my senior. I will tell her that you are peaked and require the sea air, and I cannot, in good conscience, leave you behind when it is within my power to see you restored. She must be a good Christian, and take you instead of me.”
