GREEN
Elizabeth tried her best not to startle at the latest example of the infamous Bennet manners. Mr. Jennings frowned ferociously at Lydia, who was supposed to have waited downstairs in the parlor. The butler was too well‑mannered to chastise the mistress' sister, but Elizabeth thought she might just have to pull him aside and explain that the level of politeness in the Bennet family varied widely, and the next time he was welcome to have it with anything from a sharp tongue to a belt.
She said, "Lydia, I do not imagine Mr. Jennings instructed you to follow him like a lost puppy. It seems far more likely that he asked you to wait in the parlor like a well-mannered lady would."
In point of fact, it would not have been the end of the world that Lydia had followed her up, except for the fact that sitting with her husband who was asleep on the couch in a state of dishabille was a private sight, meaning it was restricted to her view alone (aside from the dozens of servants in the house). Mrs. Darcy had also not made any decision about how she planned to affect some sort of rapprochement with her family, or even if she would do such a thing – although her good nature would almost certainly eventually force it. Whatever the outcome, the matter should have been hers to decide at her leisure; but once again, the Bennet family was sticking their nose in where it did not belong.
Lydia, surprisingly, looked the most abashed Elizabeth had ever seen her. "I am sorry Lizzy – I mean, Mrs. Darcy. I will wait for you."
With that, Elizabeth nodded to Jennings, who led the youngest Bennet sister away, leaving Elizabeth with her husband who was still sleeping peacefully, but in a posture that would ensure he woke up with a crick in his neck even if he was completely healthy.
She suspected that sitting on her thumbs for an hour or two might build character in her youngest sister, and it might give her a chance to think about how she felt about her family. She looked out to the door into the corridor, and as expected, found Noah was lounging about. She sent him to fetch two more good sized footmen. She thought that Bates and Longman had done enough heavy lifting, since neither man was exactly a spring chicken, and they all believed the contagious phase of the disease must be well over.
The three men managed to lift her husband and gently carry him back to the nursery, where Bates could be relied upon to put him safely to bed, and Elizabeth turned back to her dressing room. This was to be the first meeting with anyone from her family. As much as she was tempted to throw her sister out into the street, she could not in good conscience do that, but she wanted to establish the rules of the household.
With Molly's help, she changed out of her comfortable nurse's dress, which she thought she would miss soon, put on a proper day dress, and looked in the mirror with a sigh.
In some ways, she looked like a slightly older Elizabeth Bennet. It was after all, an Elizabeth Bennet dress since she had not had the time or the inclination to get to the modiste yet. On the other hand, she judged that there was, unsurprisingly, a change in her countenance that made her look every inch the mistress of this house. Even the simple act of adding a mobcap made her look older, and she hoped, wiser.
Mrs. Darcy had no idea if her vanity was making her see what she wanted to see, but she thought she would have not the slightest difficulty staring down the Earl and Countess of Matlock, who were due to appear in another few weeks; nor would she be the slightest bit intimidated by anyone from Lady Catherine de Bourgh to the Queen, as long as she had her husband's love and support. She was ready to be mistress of this house.
Much to Elizabeth's surprise, her sister was literally sitting on her thumbs when she appeared in the blue parlor. She hid a small smile when she thought of the story her husband had told of making his aunt wait in this exact same parlor for an hour to cool off, and then going out the door to prove he was in Darcy House. The room was tastefully done, although it was just a touch on the severe side for her taste. She occasionally wondered if she would soften it up with better decorations, or perhaps keep it around for disagreeable encounters.
Lydia was practically jumping out of her skin, but to Elizabeth's knowledge, this was the first time in her life that she was trying to act like a well-mannered lady. She was not quite succeeding, but she was at least trying.
Lydia stood up, curtsied very prettily, thus proving she was at least capable of it, and very demurely said, "My apologies for earlier, Mrs. Darcy."
Still uncertain about how she would act, Elizabeth said, "Think nothing of it, Lydia. I have been trying to work out if, when, or how I would reconnect with my family, and I suppose being forced is not the worst possible way. Have a seat. Are you hungry?"
"Famished."
Elizabeth looked carefully at her sister and was surprised by what she saw. Lydia was dressed properly, but her dress was rumpled, her hair was disheveled, and she had dark circles under her eyes that she was making a poor job of hiding with makeup.
She asked, "Are you all right, Lydia?"
A moment later, she found herself absolutely and thoroughly ashamed of herself for the enforced delay, when her sister let out a great screaming cry, and ran across the room to embrace her, with tears forming in her eyes, and great heaving sobs coming out of her mouth. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around the younger girl and just stood there, rocking her back and forth like she might once have done when she was a little girl, making vague soothing sounds, and wondered where exactly the sisters had gone wrong.
As she held her sobbing sister, she wondered what was happening, but after the stresses and strains of the past few months, she had learned to be calm. She had also learned that sometimes she just had to be patient and let things run their course. She could rock her sister and emit soothing sounds, while still thinking about other subjects with the greatest of ease.
She remembered back to her youth, wondering just where things had gone awry between the two of them. She could remember as clear as day when ten-year-old Elizabeth could happily spend all day with five-year-old Lydia, the younger with her dolls and mud pies, the elder with her books and piano (and the occasional tweak of a doll's hair). Twelve and seven had been reasonable, as had fourteen and nine.
However, fifteen and ten had been an entirely different kettle of fish. By then, Lydia had acquired her habit of selfishness that now seemed such an indelible part of her character, and her attentions had all been transferred to Kitty, who seemed more malleable than any of the other sisters.
Elizabeth wondered what caused the rift but could not remember. Fifteen had been the year she came out, and it was the year when Mrs. Bennet had started talking to her almost endlessly about courting, marriage, and catching a husband. The talk had been going on in the background of the Bennet house her whole life, and Elizabeth wondered if that had been the time the rift occurred. There had been the inevitable fracture between the schoolroom and society, and the associated jump from someone in the periphery of her mother's ambitions to dead center. Elizabeth wondered if the fracture had been inevitable, or if she had just given up because she was trying her best to keep her head above water.
As Mrs. Darcy, Elizabeth began to wonder how Mrs. Bennet had come to that state. Perhaps, it had been because Jane, the acknowledged 'beauty' of the county, or at least the portion of the county around Meryton, had been out for two seasons and had absolutely nothing to show for it aside from some bad poetry. Perhaps, Mrs. Bennet, at the very first opportunity, had thrown the daughter she never understood into the fray, hoping that her least understood daughter might catch some as yet unknown oddity of a husband who wanted an impertinent and overly educated daughter. Was Mrs. Bennet already desperate at that time, and if so, was that attitude hysteria or rationality?
Elizabeth knew her mother was of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper, but in the end, she did have a point. Absent her compromise, the family would in fact be one step closer to the proverbially and oft mentioned hedgerows. Elizabeth could not like her methods, but she could at least understand her mother's motivations.
Her ruminations ended in stalemate at about the time that Lydia's cries slowed to a stop, so she stepped back, and handed Lydia a handkerchief. That, at least, looked like it belonged in the house. The handkerchief was silk, with exquisite embroidery. It was a gift from Miss Darcy – Georgiana. Despite the young lady being her sister for several months, Elizabeth had not quite gotten around to making the connection and was hoping her husband would facilitate a closer relationship soon enough.
Lydia dried her eyes but seemed afraid to blow her nose on such a work of art, so Elizabeth said, "Use it for what it is made for, Lydia."
Once her sister was reasonably presentable, Elizabeth asked if she needed to refresh herself, then rang a bell for some tea and refreshments. She asked, "Are you literally famished, Lydia?"
Lydia, looking both embarrassed for her outburst, and the most contrite Elizabeth had ever seen her, said, "Yes. I left Longbourn well before first light. I am not as clever as you and did not take any food with me."
Jennings, who had most likely been outside the door with the tea service protecting the sisters' privacy, entered a minute later with the cart, and Elizabeth asked for a proper meal for her sister. Once that was done, she spent a minute allowing Lydia to compose herself better while she poured the tea, and asked, "How did you get here, Lydia – and why?"
Lydia took a few sips of tea, ate two or three biscuits. "The 'how' is the post coach. I left from Meryton at dawn, but I got the schedules wrong and ended up going through Hatfield instead of direct. It still got me here, but it took much longer than going to Gracechurch Street. Once I was in London, I took a hack here."
Elizabeth thought a proper young lady would have been shocked, but most such reactions had been leeched out of her in December. She only asked, "Have you any idea how dangerous that was?"
Lydia just shrugged. "You survived it."
Elizabeth had to admit that she had a point, and nobody would think twice about sending a maid alone on the post. Lydia had started out more brash than Elizabeth, and with such an example, who could blame her for escalating. She also had to ruefully admit that taking a post coach and hack to her very wealthy sister's house was not quite as bad as taking a few pounds and trying to disappear into the shadow of Manchester all alone. However, the family had no idea whether Elizabeth had reconciled with her husband. She supposed Lydia would have gone to the Gardiners if she failed, so put the thought aside.
She just said, "Yes, and it appears you did as well. All the same, I would prefer you not repeat the exercise."
Lydia just nodded and tucked into the meal that appeared suspiciously quickly. Elizabeth let her eat in silence for a few minutes while she sipped a bit of coffee. She still did not like it, but her husband insisted she eventually would, so she thought she might as well stubbornly keep at it until she died if that was what it took.
When Lydia slowed down, Elizabeth said, "First things first, Lydia. Does anybody know you are gone, or where you were going? I would hate to learn that the tenants and all the men of Meryton are out searching for you when they have much better things to do."
"I found Tommy Lambert before I left. You remember him, the farrier's son? I gave him a few coins to wait until noon and then deliver a note to Longbourn. I think he is trustworthy."
Elizabeth nodded. "Did you tell them where you were going?"
"No, just that I was leaving for a few days. I thought that you would not approve of having our parents on your doorstep uninvited."
Elizabeth scoffed. "I would prefer to never have them on my doorstep under any conditions, but it would make little difference. I have left explicit instructions that neither are to be allowed past the front door. I have had enough trouble the last months."
Lydia could not quite help herself, and asked, "What kind of troub –" but somewhat to her credit, she worked out that she was sticking her nose where it did not belong. She was here under her sister's sufferance, and she thought riling said sister up was probably not going to help her cause.
"That is better, Lydia. When in this house, you will comport yourself as a lady. You have had fifteen years to learn the rules of propriety. It is high time you started to practice them."
Lydia looked, for the first time in Elizabeth's memory, contrite. It only took a moment for her to look close to tears again, and since Elizabeth had a dress covered in mucus already, she thought to forestall it by saying, "Rest easy, Lydia. Being a Darcy has not turned me into a dragon – not yet, anyway."
Lydia giggled a bit, though not the raucous snorting mess that would have been her previous behavior. "All the same, I appreciate you seeing me, Mrs. Darcy. I will behave."
Elizabeth sighed. "I am not certain how to think about you, Lydia. I fear, we have so much history between us it may take some time to sort my feelings out. You know that I have been disappointed with you for some time, but …"
Lydia was leaning forward in her chair, thoroughly entranced by her sister's words.
Elizabeth continued, "… I was just trying to work out where we had gone wrong. I think it was about the time Mama throw me into the marriage market at a time when I should still have preferred to be in the schoolroom. Did you know I have a new sister of Kitty's age who is still not out? She is sixteen, and I am not at all certain she will be out at seventeen or eighteen."
Lydia started to speak a couple of times, but each time, she apparently saw the words in her head, compared them to what she had been taught a lady might say, and eventually discarded them. She finally said, "I always wanted to be the first to be married."
Elizabeth gently took her hands. "If you had succeeded, you would most likely have ended up miserable. I am twenty, and I only managed to marry happily by the skin of my teeth."
Lydia gasped. "You are happy?"
Elizabeth said, "Much to my surprise, I am. Against all the odds, I fell in love with my husband. He is the best of men, and I love him dearly, with all my heart. However, it was a very-very near thing. On our wedding day, he was –"
Before she could continue, the thoughts of that day came crashing down on her consciousness, and she belatedly realized she was talking to the second worst of the Bennet gossips.
Lydia said, "I do not blame you for keeping your council, Mrs. Darcy. I would if I were you, even though I promise that I will never breathe a word. I am just glad you are happy."
Elizabeth sighed. "I will not tell you the details, Lydia, but when pressured into an early marriage, the difference between ecstasy and misery can be measured in seconds. My husband was planning to send me alone to Pemberley. Just as his coach started to pull out, a young boy ran in front of it causing him to delay perhaps a quarter of a minute. In that time, I yelled 'Fair Warning' at the top of my lungs. He stopped, and we managed to resolve all our differences."
Lydia was looking starry-eyed at her sister. "That may be the most romantic thing I ever heard."
Elizabeth said, "Suppose that boy's father had been more alert, and stopped him from running in front of my husband's carriage. I would have yelled into the winds, and I would be at Pemberley right now, planning bloody murder. It was a very close thing. Do not listen to Charlotte Lucas for even a second. Take my word that you want to know as much as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life."
Lydia nodded. "I will keep your secret, Lizzy – I mean –"
Elizabeth said, "You can call me Lizzy, at least when we are in private. I am still your sister, and if I remember correctly, during my month of agony last December, you were the only person I know in all Meryton who defended me."
Lydia laughed, not quite ladylike but close enough for Mrs. Darcy. "Yes, I suppose I did, although –"
She paused, so Elizabeth said, "Go on – speak freely."
Lydia said, "I did defend you, but at the time, I think I was angrier that they thought I was too stupid to see through their ruse of you going trousseau shopping all alone, than worried about you. I am sorry, Lizzy."
Elizabeth smiled. "It is forgotten, Liddy – well, not forgotten per se – but forgiven."
"That is better anyway."
Elizabeth wondered if she was getting too soft for the mistress position but decided to forge ahead anyway.
With a smile to remove the sting, she said, "You must agree you are the second most indolent person in Longbourn, Lydia. Something must be quite serious to drag you all this way. You may as well tell me what it is."
The small smile and feeling of happiness Lydia had been falling into disappeared instantly.
"I need your help, Lizzy, or at least your advice. Mama is up to her old tricks again."
