Of Love and Money
"I have already said, as soon as things improve, we will move to a better home. But right now I have to find a job and you know that."
Lydia, understanding, nodded and quitted the room, leaving her husband alone. Ten years married and still not a pound in the family. She looked down on her expanding belly and gently caressed it. "How will I take care of you?" she asked quietly. "We are poor, you see. My dear Wickham, your father, has not been able to find a job. No one will take him." She paused, considering. "No one, that is, except all those ladies at the balls." She felt a small jolt within. "Yes, my precious, I fear your father loves me no longer." Lydia walked over to the widow and looked out into the busy streets of London. "Lucky Lizzy and Jane. I bet they are happy and secure in their homes, Jane with her Mr. Bingley, and Lizzy with Darcy." Her facial features hardened and stamping her foot on the floor like a stubborn child, proclaimed, "Oh, how I despise them!" She walked over to the desk and picked up all the letters from Lizzy and Jane. All that waste of paper and ink only to tell her how well they are and not send any money! Memories of her past flashed in her mind; balls, parties, dinners with the officers, her dear sister Kitty, and her nerve-wrecked mother.
"Oh, how I long to dance!" she proclaimed. "Can't we have one, love?"
"All in good time, dear, all in good time." Wickham replied from the other room.
"But I want it now!" Lydia whined. "I want to dance!"
No answer. A sense of separation fills Lydia's heart.
"You don't love me any more, do you, George?" she said timidly. "You don't love your children either. I know it; I see how you treat them." She sighed and looked out the window again. Her eyes were filled with tears and therefore she didn't recognize Kitty's face at first when she saw it. Lydia frantically threw open the widow and shouted down to her.
"Kitty! Kitty! Up here!" Her sister looked up and a wide smile spread across her face.
"Lydia! How well you look! Are you alone?"
"No, my dear Wickham is here as well. Pray tell your reason for coming."
"Lydia! If you do not close that window right now, I will be forced to lock it tight!" Wickham yelled from his office room. Obediently, Lydia closed the window, but not before she invited her sister to come up. Moments later there was a knock on the door. As fast as her swollen belly would allow her, Lydia rushed to open it.
"Who is there, Lydia?" Wickham asked.
"Oh, tis my sister! How merry I shall be now!" She opened the door and let Kitty in. Greetings were exchanged and comments shared.
"But Lydia! How can you live in such a place?! My dear Roberts and I live in such fine house!" Kitty took Lydia by her hand, "Oh, you must come and visit me! We shall have a ball! 'Twill be grand!"
"Oh, I shall like that very much! Kitty! You are the most wonderful sister ever! How could I have ever gotten along without you!
"You couldn't have." Kitty replied proudly. "After all, I am your older sister and know much more about things than you do. Running away with a lover! Posh!"
"Oh, Kitty, do not you scold me in such a way! I shall not bear such talk! After all, I was married before you."
At that moment, Wickham came out of his office. He was dressed in his militia outfit and looked just as he had ten years ago.
"My dear sister," he addressed Kitty, "How wonderful to see you. I trust things are well with you?"
Kitty nodded. "They are all well, thank you. Although I must tell you that my little boy is not quite so well. He has contracted a terrible fever and coughs constantly!" Lydia laughed.
"Kitty, do you remember how you used to cough all the time and how our dear father, God bless his soul, used to reprimand you for it? What fun it was!"
Kitty looked slightly offended, but the cloud passed by quickly and she soon resumed to be merry. For the first time she noticed what Lydia was wearing.
"My dear Lydia!" she exclaimed, "What is that terrible old thing you are wearing!? I must bring you something more descent if you are to come to my ball!" Lydia looked down at her old wedding dress. It was stained, torn in places, and the hems were coming apart. Her shoes were in no better state and her hair were a mess. She laughed heartily.
"Oh, tis nothing! I shall fix it." She thought for a moment then added. "But perhaps instead of letting me borrow a dress, can you not give me some money that I may be able to buy my own dress-"
"Lydia! We are not beggars to ask for money!" Wickham interrupted. "I will get a job and we shall have money! But I will not hear you beg for money!" Lydia only laughed.
"Listen to him! Always concerned about me! Oh, he loves me yet, praise God!" She put her arms around him and gave him a kiss. He did not return either, but only a cold glance which Lydia chose to ignore. "We shall be merry indeed!" she proclaimed.