Chapter Twenty-One – Lydia Ruins Everything (For Herself)

First thing in the morning was Elizabeth's favourite time of the day. No one else was up, so she could go for a walk in the nearby park without being looked down on by her peers and the Peerage. At the height of summer, there were few if any of the Ton in the city. The only reason she and Fitzwilliam were in Town was that Fitzwilliam had business with his banker and Elizabeth was helping Jane prepare for the birth of her child. Later today, they were to interview several potential nurses for the impending baby Bingley. Mary had been invited to join them, however she had elected to visit her friend Sophia's father's estate in the Lake District for the summer and as such was not available.

Returning from her walk, Elizabeth made her way to the breakfast room, where Fitzwilliam was just sitting down to eat. She offered him a warm smile and made up a plate for herself from the sideboard. A small pile of mail on a silver tray sat at her place and she sat down to examine the contents while she ate. The first letter was from Mary, the second from Miss Bingley, the third from Amelia and the fourth from Lady Matlock. The one on the bottom, however, was the most intriguing, as it was from her aunt Phillips.

My dearest Mrs Darcy,

It is still strange to write that as a salutation, but it is your name and has been for nearly two years now. How time does pass us all by, and at such a pace! I recall your wedding fondly, and Mrs Bingley's as well. The way of the world is a strange one, as though your wedding seems almost yesterday, it feels as though your birth were mere months ago rather than all the years it has been.

I did not, however, decide to write to you about an old woman's reminiscences. Something truly dreadful has happened. Your sister Lydia, only fourteen, was caught spying on the young men of the village as they bathed in the river! To make such matters worse, she was also caught in possession of several of their smaller personal belongings. Sir William himself brought her home. Your dear mother is beside herself, and has taken herself to bed with a case of nerves. Lydia herself has not left the house, nor the sight of a responsible adult, since the incident.

I am concerned for Lydia's future. While she is still a child in the schoolroom, the day when she may step out into society as an adult is rapidly approaching. I worry that too little has been done to teach her proper behaviour for her station in life. I fear what will become of her, and what shame she will bring to the family if she is allowed to enter society as she is now. Your uncle Phillips and I had hoped that with time, she would mature and grow, as her sisters have, but it is to no avail. Lydia remains as badly behaved as when she moved here upon your father's death. We are at out wits end.

I beg of you, my dear niece, to help us. I do not want money; rather, I believe that it is guidance that is required. Fanny, Mr Phillips and I are all out of ideas for how to raise Lydia. Any insight that you may have will be much appreciated. I have sent a similar letter to Mrs Bingley. I am aware that she is preparing to welcome her own child, yet she has always had such a level head, just as you have. I am of the opinion that a fresh perspective on this situation will be of great help to all parties, particularly Lydia, as she is the one who will have to live with the consequences of her actions for the rest of her days.

I hope you are in good health, and that all is well with you.

All my love,

Matilda Phillips

Elizabeth put down the letter from her aunt and took a bite of her toast. It was unsurprising that Lydia had acted out so badly, as Jane had mentioned her increasingly worrying behaviour yesterday at tea. Elizabeth had been afraid that Lydia would become a person who sought attention at any cost. Gentle attempts at discipline were ignored, harsher attempts were undermined, and It was a surprise to no one that her guardians were at their wits end with her.

"Is something the matter Elizabeth?" asked Fitzwilliam. "You seem subdued. When you came in, you seemed in good spirits."

"Lydia has crossed a line," said Elizabeth. "She was caught spying on young men as they swam and had several of their things on her person when she was brought home. My aunt and uncle do not know where to proceed from here, and Mama isn't helping. It is distressing that it has come to this point."

"I am guessing they also asked for help," said Fitzwilliam.

"My aunt specifically asked for guidance, not money. That is understandable, as my uncle has a good practice and therefore good income. I fear they simply have run out of patience and goodwill towards Lydia."

"Hm. This might explain why Mr Phillips has written to me as well. I will see what he says to me, though I have little experience with high spirited young women."

"Aunt Phillips also mentioned that she wrote to Jane about the matter. It is likely that Charles received a letter as well. Perhaps the four of us can confer and try to find a solution."

Fitzwilliam nodded. "Good idea. We can present several solutions to your aunt and uncle and see what they think. Are you calling on Jane this afternoon?"

"Yes." Elizabeth took a sip of her tea. "She interviewed several candidates for the baby's nurse and I think is going to try to make her choice today. I think she wants to be home, but also that she wants to ensure that her first choice is the person she hires."

"I wish her luck," said Fitzwilliam. "I vaguely remember Mother having a difficult time finding someone to nurse Georgiana. There was quite a bit of talk between the housekeeper and my governess about it."

Elizabeth looked down at her hands. "Will?"

"What's wrong?"

"Are you – how do I word this? Are you upset that we haven't had any luck with a child yet?"

When he spoke, Fitzwilliam's voice was gentle. "Not at all. It will come with time, I am sure. I feel that we are lucky in that we are getting to settle into our marriage and have this time when it's just us so that we develop a foundation for having a family. It gives us time to be on the same page of the same book. I do not blame you, nor do I blame myself. When God sees fit to grant us a child, I am sure that we will be the best parents we can be to them."

Elizabeth looked up at him, a tear running down her face. "I was afraid that you would blame me. I am not jealous of Jane, but there is a part of me that wishes for a child of my own that the family can be excited about."

"And there will be," said Fitzwilliam. "When it is our turn, our family will be excited for us. And this way, there is no competing between you and Jane for the attention due a new mother."

"Thank you," said Elizabeth. "For reminding me that I deserve to be seen as much as Jane does. I forget sometimes. And thank you for being my husband and my support."

"You support me in many ways." The warmth and pride in his voice reached into the heart of her fears. "It is my pleasure to be able to do the same. I am happy that we have the kind of marriage where we can express our fears to one another."

"You have a fear as well regarding a child?"

"I do." He bit his lips. "I am afraid that I might lose you. I cannot bear that. I know that every precaution will be taken to ensure that you survive and that our child thrive, but I lost Mother and a younger brother shortly after Georgiana was born, and it was so fast. Once a child is here all will be better, but it is the birth that worries me."

Elizabeth reached out and rested a hand on his arm. "I cannot promise that I won't die. That is impractical and would make things twice as cruel should the worst happen. I inherited many things from my mother, and one of those things are wider hips. That is a good sign that I might have an easier time."

"That is a little reassuring," admitted Fitzwilliam. "Your mother did have five healthy babies. That is no small thing."

"That she did." She squeezed his arm lightly and went back to her breakfast. Fitzwilliam, having finished, began to read his own correspondence. The letter from his father made him frown, the letter from Georgiana made him smile, and the letter from Mr Phillips left him pensive. Elizabeth waited until she had finished her breakfast to inquire about her uncle's letter.

"It is written in the same vein as Mrs Phillips's letter," said Fitzwilliam. "He too doesn't ask for money, but for a fresh perspective. He seems desperate to find a solution that will help Lydia."

"Then a conference of her siblings seems to truly be in order. I shall send a note to Jane immediately suggesting that the meeting is today or tomorrow. While I do not want this to cool, I also do not want to stress Jane unduly."

"Nor do I." Fitzwilliam stood and handed his plate to a footman. "I shall endeavor to clear as much of my schedule as I can for this afternoon. My business with the banker today should not be too long, as we are concluding the arrangement we've decided is most beneficial to Pemberley. I'll explain when we come home from the discussion of Lydia."

"I look forward to hearing about it," said Elizabeth. She also passed her plate to a footman and went to her writing desk to pen a note to Jane, asking if she could come by before calling hours to discuss the situation. She then began a letter to Mary, asking for her input as well and updating her on the situation while stressing that it was not dire and that there was no need for Mary to cut her trip short on account of it. By the time she had finished the letter to Mary, Jane had written back, agreeing to the meeting.

Arriving at the Bingley's townhouse a half hour later, Elizabeth was shown into Jane's smaller parlour, where she was meeting with an obviously pregnant woman about their age. She was dressed plainly and practically, and when Jane greeted Elizabeth, the woman was introduced as Bridget Jones. Mrs Jones had lost her husband a month ago and desperately needed a form of income for herself and her child. When Elizabeth asked her a few questions, Mrs Jones informed them that she was the second of nine children, and had helped her mother raise most of her younger siblings. She had lots of experience with babies and small children from that and had apprenticed for a time with the local midwife. She had married before she could complete her apprenticeship and was willing to resume her learning once she was delivered of her own child.

Elizabeth could see that Jane was decided on Mrs Jones and agreed with her decision. She gave Jane a small nod and a smile. Jane smiled back and then turned to Mrs Jones. "It seems that you are very qualified for this position. I feel from our conversation and your conversation with my sister that you and I shall get along splendidly. Would you be willing to move to Netherfield Park with us? It is a day's carriage ride out of London."

"That's most agreeable to me, ma'am," said Mrs Jones. "I should be happy to be back in good country air."

"I would like to offer you the position of nurse," said Jane. "We can discuss pay, but rest assured you will be paid and you will have a place to live for as long as you might want it."

"I would be happy to work for you," said Mrs Jones, beaming with pleasure and relief. Jane nodded and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and ink and the two wrote up a contract together. Elizabeth sipped her tea and watched as Jane was haggled down from what was really too high a pay to a reasonable one that would support Mrs Jones and her child and let them have some savings. That business concluded, they both signed the document, and Elizabeth added her signature as witness. Mrs Jones left in the Bingley carriage to pack her things at her current lodgings, taking a footman with her to help carry any boxes she might have.

Jane resumed her seat after seeing Mrs Jones out. She poured herself a cup of tea and leaned back into the cushions of her chair. "I am very glad that we managed to find Mrs Jones. Though she was not the first I interviewed, she was the first I was truly comfortable with. That is a reassurance."

"It is indeed," said Elizabeth. "Children are so vulnerable. Being able to trust those around them is a blessing."

Jane bit her lip. "Lizzie, are you…?"

"No. Not yet."

"I'm sorry, I should not have asked. I am excited, but I do wish I wasn't the only one."

"Mrs Jones will be around soon enough. She will be able to understand your experience and help you through it."

"I had hoped that I could have a sister with me."

"And you will. When the time comes, Mary and I will be with you. We will not know what you are experiencing entirely, but we will be there."

"Thank you, Lizzie. Truly."

"What is a sister for, if not to help through times of trouble and tease through times of joy?"

Charles and Fitzwilliam were heard in the front hall, but neither sister went out. They would come up soon enough, and Jane and Elizabeth wanted to enjoy one more moment of just them together before the business of the afternoon was discussed.

"There you are," said Charles as he poked his head into the parlour. "We'd begun to think you'd gone out."

"Charles, they might have been confiding in each other," said Fitzwilliam exasperatedly. "You cannot just barge in."

Jane smiled at her husband. "Confidences are finished for now, though I shall want to see Elizabeth tomorrow for more discussion. Come in, I'll ring for tea. Or rather, Elizabeth, would you ring for tea please?"

Elizabeth laughed lightly. "Of course. I recall Mama having difficulty with standing and sitting rapidly while she was expecting Lydia." She rang, and a few minutes later a fresh pot of tea and some little tarts were brought up. The men settled themselves, and Charles took Jane's hand.

"Will you be alright with having this conversation?" Charles asked. "I do not want to stress you unduly."

"I will be fine," Jane assured him. "I am not so delicate that I need to be isolated from living. I grew up closest to Lydia, so I know her better than Elizabeth does."

"That is true, and we will need as much knowledge as we can find about how Lydia is as a person," said Elizabeth. "We cannot plan for a person who will resist every suggestion made to her."

"You have a point," Charles conceded. "I just worry."

"And I love you for it," said Jane, squeezing his hand. "We must think of this as practice for being parents ourselves. We do not know what kind of children we shall have and must prepare for any situation."

"On that note, Lydia," said Fitzwilliam.

"Lydia is a lively girl with a tendency to get herself into trouble, and a determined disinterest in anything that she does not deem fun. She dislikes being told what to do, and loathes any form of restriction placed upon her. She has had her every whim indulged by Mama and to some extent Aunt Phillips. She has few interests outside of fashion and parties. She has also been discouraged from improving her mind through reading; I think the only reason she knows how is to read letters, particularly other people's."

"She sounds more spoiled than Caroline," said Charles.

"Who has done better in the last few months," said Elizabeth. "She wrote me a letter of apology and seemed sincere in her wording. I think time out of society has been good for Caroline. I do not know, however, that such a tack would be proper for Lydia."

Fitzwilliam hummed. "It sounds to me as though she is bored."

"Bored?"

"Yes, bored, Charles. She has no outlets, nothing to put her energy into and noting to stimulate her mind. I perceive that she is intelligent and has no means to channel it, so she comes up with ways to amuse herself and finds herself in trouble."

"I think that is part of what she wants, Will. She thrives on attention, any kind, and as a child was very resentful of anyone else getting attention. I do not think that Mama ever praised her for going good, only brushed things off when she did wrong."

"What Lizzie says may be right. She wants attention and recognition, and it may also be true that she is bored. Academics do not appeal to her."

"How have that been approached?"

"Papa was not the best teacher for her. He had no patience with her, and she did not enjoy learning from him. Uncle Phillips uses it as a punishment, I am sad to say."

"Then we must find a way to interest her in learning that her mind might have things to turn over and find a way to ease her need for attention."

Elizabeth sighed. "I think that she needs to leave Meryton and Mama for a time. It is not good for her to be so indulged and, much as I hate to think it, mistreated."

"Mistreated?"

"Using lessons as a punishment does her a disservice, and directing her to stupidity is worse. That house is not good for her. She needs to be elsewhere."

Fitzwilliam took a tart and chewed on it thoughtfully. "School then?"

"Will that not make her worse?" asked Charles.

"Hear me out," said Fitzwilliam. "She will get the attention of her peers, for better or for worse, and possibly make friends who will influence her. She will have many different subjects to catch her attention. And she will be out of Meryton and away from your mother."

"That is likely the best solution," said Jane, shoulders slumping. "I hope that it works for her, and that her life changes."

"If Caroline can change, I am sure that Lydia can too," said Charles reassuringly.

"Then we are agreed that this is the plan that will be proposed?"

"Yes. I think so, yes."

"Agreed."

"Elizabeth and I will look into affordable schools that Lydia can go to," said Fitzwilliam. "Will that be alright, dearest?"

"I think I shall enjoy that," said Elizabeth. "I need a new project myself."

Fitzwilliam looked at her fondly. "You are also of a lively disposition and quick mind. I think that the tenants are better cared for and the books for the house are in better order than they've ever been."

Elizabeth blushed. "I do what I can."

There was a moment where the Darcys looked lovingly at each other and the Bingleys watched with identical pleased and fond expressions. Then Jane set her teacup down and cleared her throat, bringing the attention back to her.

"I have some exciting news," said Jane. "Today, I found the woman who will be my child's nurse. I have hired her, and at this moment, she is packing her things and ending her lease to move here with us. We will then bring her back with us to Netherfield, and she and I can complete preparations for the baby. Babies."

"That's excellent news," beamed Charles. "Will her husband also be joining us?"

"He husband died a few months ago," said Jane. "She needs a source of income, and we got on so well! Even Lizzie likes her."

"I think that Mrs Jones will be a wonderful nurse, and an excellent guide for Jane," said Elizabeth. "She has some experience with midwifery, and has many younger siblings."

"Where did you find her?" asked Fitzwilliam.

"Through a reputable agency," said Jane. "Charles and I had them look into the backgrounds of each candidate before we met them. Everything she said matched what was in her file."

"I also asked an independent investigator to look into candidates," said Charles. "He was very thorough, and everything that he found went into the file as well."

"Was there no tenant who could have taken the position?"

"No," said Jane. "We asked, and in all cases either the baby would have been well since weaned, there wasn't enough milk in the first place, or the mother was due after me. We decided to look elsewhere. I'm glad we found Mrs Jones."

"As am I," said Charles. "Darcy, Elizabeth, will you stay for lunch? I realize that you have pressing business, but it would be nice to share a meal before we all go in various directions."

The Darcys looked at each other for a moment. "It would indeed. We would be happy to join you."

Over lunch the idea that Jane and Elizabeth talk to Lydia was proposed, and agreed was therefore decided that Fitzwilliam would go back to Pemberley and finish up the business end of things while Elizabeth went with the Bingleys back to Netherfield to deal with Lydia. The next day, the two parties left London, and the Bingley carriage arrived at Netherfield just before supper was served. The next morning, refreshed and ready to address their mother and youngest sister, Jane and Elizabeth made their way to the Phillips' house.

They were greeted by a weary Mrs Phillips and a pouting Lydia. Mr Phillips had barricaded himself in his study to work on an urgent land dispute case, and Mrs Bennet was still in bed because of her nerves. Jane and Elizabeth joined Mrs Phillips and Lydia in the parlour and took tea. Having got the pleasantries out of the way, Jane turned the conversation to the reason for their visit.

"Lydia, we wanted to ask for your side of what happened," said Jane.

Lydia jumped out of her chair, her hands clenched in fists at her sides. "It was a good joke, a bit of fun. There was no harm in it. I don't see why everyone is making such a commotion out of it."

"Theft is a hanging offence," said Elizabeth quietly.

"They would not have hanged me!"

"This morning, they hanged a child younger than you for stealing less. Had you not been the niece of the town lawyer, Sir William would have been obligated to arrest and hang you. As it stands, this is not the first time you have been in a great deal of trouble, is it?"

"What business is it of yours?"

"You are our sister," said Jane. "And we care for you. You are important to us. Therefore, seeing you put yourself in a position where you might be killed is our business."

Elizabeth locked eyes with Lydia. "Lydia, do you want to die?"

"If I was dead, I wouldn't be nearly so bored," scoffed Lydia. "I certainly would have more to do."

"But do you want to die?"

"Well, no."

"You said that you were bored?"

"Out of my mind. Everything is so dull! I have trimmed so many bonnets and remade so many dresses that I could scream. There is nothing more to do."

"Have you considered reading?" asked Jane. "There are a good number of books in the world, I am sure that one might interest you."

"Pah, books. Who cares for such dull things? Certainly not I!"

"Not even a terrific romance, forbidden by wicked parents and helped by strangers?"

"There's such a book?"

"There's such a genre." Elizabeth took a sip of her tea.

"What is a genre?"

"A type of book. Romance is a genre of book. Tragedy and comedy are others."

"I think I should like romances. And comedies as well."

"Might that ease your boredom?"

Lydia eyed her sisters suspiciously. "You have a plan."

"There is a notion being floated. Would you like to hear it?"

Jane passed her teacup to Elizabeth, who set it on the table. "We thought that perhaps you might like to go to school."

"No."

"Will you hear us out?"

"I don't care."

"Well, I shall tell you anyway. You would be able to meet other girls your own age and make your own friends. You would be able to leave Meryton and experience a different part of the world. You would be offered information that might be of interest to you. And it is very unlikely that you would be bored."

"I certainly wasn't. My friends and I always found something to do together."

Lydia paused. "This isn't a punishment?"

"No Lydia," said Jane. "It is not. Rather, it is an opportunity. A chance for something better, a more interesting life for you."

"We would not be proposing it if we thought that it wasn't in your best interests," added Elizabeth. "Besides, it will take you away from Mama and her overbearing ways."

"That is true," mused Lydia. "And I could have my own friends? I wouldn't be bored?"

"That is the idea."

"I want to go." Lydia looked at Mrs Phillips, who had been quiet for the entire discussion. "I like the idea of going away and making friends and seeing something different. Meryton is so dull! I have seen everything and know everyone."

"I am inclined to agree with you," said Mrs Phillips, "and I will be happy to make your case to your uncle. Mrs Bingley, Mrs Darcy, do you have a school in mind?"

"My old school is an option," said Elizabeth, "and Mr Darcy and I are looking into other options that Lydia might choose from. I rather liked my school as it covered a variety of subjects, such as geography and advanced mathematics as well as the usual set that young ladies learn."

"Is that where Kitty is?" asked Lydia.

"It is indeed," said Jane. "She has many friends, and enjoys her classes quite a bit. Her letters are always peppered with little things that happen in the school."

"May I think about going there?" asked Lydia.

"Of course," said Elizabeth. "We will bring you a list in a few days and you can look over it and ask questions."

"Thank you," said Mrs Phillips, relief flooding her words. "This is so helpful. We were unsure as to what we might do to help Lydia."

"She is our sister, and therefore a part of our hearts," said Jane. "We could not do less that offer her our support when she needs it most."

Lydia flung herself in Jane's direction, stopped herself, and gently hugged her sister. She then launched herself at Elizabeth, hugging her tightly. "Thank you. I didn't know you cared so much."

"Of course I care," said Elizabeth, hugging Lydia back. "Just because Mama has kept us apart doesn't mean I don't care about you. When you were very little, I used to sing you lullabies in the middle of the night when you would wake and the nurse couldn't get you to sleep. I miss the little bond we had."

A few days later, the Phillipses and the Bennet sisters sat down together and looked over a list of schools that might do for Lydia that Mr Phillips could afford. Surprisingly, Mrs Longevin's school was on the list and Lydia insisted on going there. Glad to see that his niece was interested in going, Mr Phillips sent a letter to Mrs Longevin immediately, and received a response inviting Lydia to a place at the school. A week later, with much moaning and wailing from Mrs Bennet, Lydia went to school. Jane returned to planning for the baby's arrival with Mrs Jones, and Elizabeth returned to Pemberley to find her father-in-law unwell and her husband in a state.

Elizabeth calmed Fitzwilliam and nursed Mr Darcy. She received letters from and wrote letters to Lydia, adding her to her correspondence network. To her mother's increasingly hysterical letters, Elizabeth responded once, reminding her of her impending grandchild and of her social circle within Meryton. As September faded into October, Mr Darcy faded too, and the doctor determined that there was little that could be done for him. Once it was confirmed that the harvest would be a good one and that Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam had everything well in hand, Mr Darcy succumbed to his illness.

He was buried next to Lady Anne in the churchyard. Many of Fitzwilliam's friends came, including Mr Bingley and Dr Fanshaw. Letters of condolence flooded their post trays, and Elizabeth made sure to respond to every one. Lady Catherine came to visit, bringing Anne with her, and James and Theophania Fitzwilliam also made their way to Pemberley. Colonel Fitzwilliam sent biweekly missives to his cousin, and the Kingsleys wrote to both Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam. Georgiana went to stay with the Matlocks for three weeks before returning to school in full mourning. Lydia and Kitty were her anchors, the sisters understanding her loss better than her friends.

Life otherwise went on at Pemberley. The harvest was collected, the tenants were cared for and the house was kept running. There were days where the new master did not speak to anyone, and there were days where he threw himself into running the estate. More than one night, hidden away from the eyes of the world, Fitzwilliam cried into Elizabeth's shoulder; more than one night saw Elizabeth staying awake to soothe his nightmares. Elizabeth let herself mourn by doing the things that Mr Darcy had done with her: played solo games of chess, rode the gentle mare he had found for her, read his favourite books and challenged her husband to billiards when no one else was available. She maintained her diary, adding poems and jokes and little clever bits of conversation to the recounting of her days.

Though they were in mourning, they awaited the letter from Jane regarding her confinement. And they hoped for the future.