The next chapter brings us back to Rosings.
We are at quite the same time as what's happening in Longbourn.
And as the title betrays it a lost sister is back into play.
Chapter 10: Lydia's Back
There were nights soon to be forgotten.
Last night was one of those.
Had she slept at all? She couldn't say.
What she had done more than she had ever wanted to do at night was thinking.
Especially thinking about him!
Even Charles Bingley had not awakened such powerful feelings in her heart.
She could, at least in the days of what she thought was his courting, slip into sleep with a smile and an image of him.
But this one, this one, haunted her! As if he had the power to enter into her mind and pursue her.
She literately could not get rid of him!
Never in her whole life had she encountered such a inflated individual!
How could he dare saying what he had said to her. Never ever had a man been so blunt about the feelings he pretended having for her. Or for any woman she had known.
Did he really believe that such a behavior could entice him with a woman?
Every well bred woman could only be shocked by such a demeanor. Wanting, to the least, to cease immediately all relations with such as him.
She exhaled loudly.
She should not even think of him!
And though she could not prevail not to think of him!
Could it be she was not as well bred as she thought?
A sun ray came through the closed shutters announcing that the sun was out.
It was probably way too early to stand up but she could, anyhow, sleep no more. She stood up, dressed alone as was her habit and decided to follow Lizzie's advice.
A morning walk would, perhaps, clear her thoughts and bring her back a little of her lost peace of mind.
The staff was still asleep and she took a slice of bread and an apple just before walking out of the parsonage's garden.
The weather was, as it has been the whole month, sunny and fair.
As if the sky would rejoice over England's defeat.
She chose a brisk pace for her walk but it was not enough to clear her mind of Him.
She despised herself for the Capital letter in front of the pronouns and names she used when thinking of Him.
And she could do nothing but make comparisons between Him and Charles Bingley.
Charles was a charming m...
She stopped and crushed the thought with an angry footstep.
Charles is a charming man! Charles is a perfect gentleman. Charles is everything a bridegroom should be.
But Charles was no Bridegroom and had never even asked her...
Not so with Him.
He had made it amply clear that He had seen her. That He had taken a fancy in her and that He would not take no as an answer !
That insufferable, arrogant, full of himself man !
Did he really believe that if would be sufficient to let her know that he was interested in her to bring her, all happiness, at his side ?
Worshiping him ?
How could he dare ?
Once more the two of them came before her mind's eye.
Charles' loving eyes, his candid and friendly smile. His open and sunny disposition.
And his disappearance without even saying goodbye.
On the other side, there was Him. His possessive and wanting eyes, his proud and confident behavior. His words that spoke of love and longing, his glances that spoke of approval and were full of feelings he made no effort to hide.
She instinctively knew that he had all the confidence she lacked. That he had no doubt that she would, finally, come to him.
He knew!
How could he dare knowing!
She looked at the sky and was tempted to rake her hair with her hands.
She stopped. It would have been unseemly...
That thought made her laugh.
Unseemly! Had that word still a meaning? With her thoughts turning around him, images of Him running around in her mind?
Her hands went to her hair and the pins flew on the ground. She shook her hair and looked at the sky. It always helped her to find a new balance.
She forced Charles' image to cover the others. She concentrated on his laughing eyes, on his merry smile, on his trustworthy demeanor.
Trustworthy? She had trusted him with her love. Had waited for him to come and get her. A gesture from him and she would have been his for all eternity.
And he just turned his back and walked away to London! Never ever even looking back!
His image disappeared and His arrogant face appeared with a triumphant smile on his lips.
He would not have walked away.
He would not walk away.
Not without her!
She knew that he would make no false promise. He would stand to his word. If she agreed to...
Could she agree to?
He was the enemy commander. The man who, for all she knew, was responsible for the death of Lydia.
How could she even dare thinking herself at his side?
Images of Darcy, Lizzie's Darcy, came in her mind.
They were so similar those Darcys.
Tall, haughty, dark in mood and spirit and so cocksure!
But this d'Arcy --she was thinking 'her' but she refused to admit it-- had not scorned her, this d'Arcy had been able to smile at her with longing in his eyes. And for all his haughtiness, with her, he had been the most charming of men.
The most daring of suitors!
She could not stop herself and she shouted her dismay to heavens.
And he was really the most insufferable of all men she ever encountered!
"In a foul mood this morning?"
She jumped out of her skin and would probably have fallen over if two strong arms had not been there to catch her in mid fall!
After very long seconds where she fought for air and countenance, she looked at him.
Of course it had been Him.
Not a second had a doubt crossed her mind.
"You scared me half to death" cried she.
"On purpose, Miss Bennet! And I did it with great pleasure! Are you out of your mind to wander in these woods while ten thousands of my men are encamped not five hundred yards away?"
He helped to steady herself and both his hands went to her shoulders.
She shivered.
"Not even a day has passed since my last rescue, Miss Bennet and here you are oblivious to your surroundings and shouting your anger to the heaven. You would have make me come at your rescue you should have done just the same!"
She blushed furiously.
How could he?
How could she?
How...
She saw his arrogant smile and anger came up.
But not anger alone. Somewhere deep within her heart there was a longing to just walk into his arms and stay there until her heart became, once again, the quiet and faithful organ it was long ago.
Not that crazy battering ram which was trying to tear her chest apart.
She knew she had to act or she would do the most unseemly thing in the world.
She got back to her two decades old experience in sister handling.
A real tantrum had always been a good way to slip out of delicate situations.
"How dare you? A week ago it would have been no problem for a lonely lady to walk everywhere in England, and more precisely in this stonewalled park. It's you and your army and your invasion and your deportations and..."
He made the gesture of surrendering.
"Point taken" said he. "It's all my fault. I take full responsibility for what happened these last days." His smile which had, for a fleeting second, vanished, came back more flashy than ever. "I'm even guilty of premeditation. For the invasion and for ambushing you this morning..."
She had known it with a certainty she had never had before.
"You followed me?"
"I was sleeping when I was informed that you were prowling in the woods. I came immediately. I'm your Guardian Angel, am I not?"
"You are not and I was not prowling! I knew perfectly well to where I was walking!"
He leaned against the nearest tree his eyes sparkling with glee.
"Perfectly well? As in finding your way back without my help?"
He made a gesture with his hand.
"Show me..."
She took a deep angry breath and went on stomping along a path.
He followed stealthily. After a few dozen yards seeing her hesitations, he asked:
"Where are we going?"
She stopped and breathed as much fresh air as she could.
He was following her and she couldn't even hear his foot steps.
Slowly she turned to face him.
"Let me alone!"
"Never! I can't, I'm y..."
She interrupted him.
"You are not my Guardian Angel! I don't need a Guardian Angel!"
He looked at her and his eyes were full of those feelings she could not, she would not, share.
"Do you know that you are even more beautiful when your eyes are sparkling with anger and your hair tangling in the wind?"
She blushed and paled at the same time.
Her hair ! All this time she had been with her hair not dressed! As if she was a little girl..
She immediately turned away and busied herself at getting a more acceptable hair style.
"Need a hand?"
"No!"
"Sorry to hear that. I'm sure I'd love to rack my hands through your golden hair..."
"I do not doubt it" said she while finishing a very crude horse tail. Why had she not ake care of her pins. What was she thinking. Was she thinking at all? "You have really nothing of a gentleman. A gentleman would never ever have said such words..."
She did not see it but she sensed that his smile was no longer on his lips.
"If being a gentleman means walking out on you without even saying goodbye, than I'll rather not be a gentleman..."
She turned and looked at him.
There was sadness in his eyes and all the anger she had felt just vanished.
"Mrs. Collins told me" said he, answering the unasked question. "She was quite eager to provide me with the information I was seeking. I do believe she thinks she owes it to me because of the release of her husband."
A hint of a smile found his way back on his face.
"And I am sure she thinks I'm quite taken by a young Lady of very great courage and awesome beauty. Being quite the romantic and not quite forgiving for said gentleman who --in her words--dropped you last winter, she was very exhaustive with her explanations..."
Jane could only shake her head.
"She should have hold her tongue. She had no right to slander Charles. He had probably good reasons."
The smile came back.
"You're even nearer to perfection that I believed. You're probably the first woman in humanity's history who would forgive a man who scorned her..."
"He did not scorn me... He did not know... I didn't say..."
D'Arcy smiled at her.
"The Guardian part is obviously not the main part. I'm quite impressed with such an open minded ability to forgive."
He came toward her and took her hand.
She made no effort to hold it back.
"For my part, Miss Bennet, I'm willing to build a statue to this greatest of all English fools and shower him with gifts. Never have I been in such great debt to any man. Had he not been the king of buffoons I would have been for ever deprived of your lovely company..."
She wanted to speak in defense of Charles but he stopped her with a finger on her lips.
A tingling shot through her leaving her without the strength to even breath.
"But, dear Miss Bennet, I did not came all this way only to help you to find your way home, I came because I have someone I'd like you to meet."
Jane shook her head.
"Sorry, monsieur, but I fear I'm not in the mood for a social call."
He made a face.
"Neither am I, Miss Bennet, and I can assure you that it is in no way a social call..." He took a few seconds to think. "One could says it is more in the line of a rescue. And if you would allow me to be very blunt, since yesterday you owe me one!"
At fifty yards she was overjoyed to know --and hear-- that Lydia was safe and sound.
At thirty yards she was glad her sister was out of harm's way but rather astonished by her choice of language.
At ten yards she was blushing madly and thinking of running away.
At point blank she regretted not to be armed with a cudgel.
"Lydia, please stop harassing these soldiers. It is untoward for a young lady of good birth to use such crude language."
Lydia turned toward her and a huge smile blossomed on her lips while she jumped in Jane's arms to kiss her soundly.
"What's the matter, they are French and can probably not understand a single word," said she. "And it makes me feel a lot better!"
"It remains unseemly, Lydia. Do not forget you are in Lady Catherine's house. She already has a very bad opinion of the Bennet sisters..."
"Oh, I believe we have already met. It must have been that old lout who came out that door to inquire at the noise. Never encountered a more unpleasant and impolite person. I took great pleasure at making my point against her..."
The blush in Jane's face disappeared to make place to the palest face she could muster. D'Arcy was immediately at her side holding her arm.
Absentmindedly she thanked him with a smile. He took it for granted that he could stay there holding her.
"You have what?"
"I've explained to that old clod that there were rules of good behavior and that her mother would have been better advised to do it herself than to let her coachman give her her education."
Her sister laughed very unwomanly.
"You should have seen her face. A lobster seems pale in comparison. A moment I hoped she would collapse but there was probably still too much spite in her. She just turned around and walked away whacking the floor with her stick..."
Jane, after a while, was again able to speak.
"Where have you learned such language, Lydia, it's..."
"Tss, Tss, Tss" interrupted her sister. "I have it from the highest level. Duchess Waintree says it all the time. That's a stout old fart! We came along quite pleasantly."
She looked at d'Arcy and shot at him her most flirtatious smile.
"You already know my sister, monsieur d'Arcy? Don't let you be disturbed, she's the second most tedious of us all. Kitty and I are much more pleasant company. Do you plan a ball while you are occupying Rosings? It had been an eternity since my last ball..."