Disclaimer: Not mine, all characters property of Jane Austen, etc.

Summary: See previous chapters

Chapter Five

It took no more than a few hints of jealousy toward her eldest sisters and Mrs Forster, who was only a year or two Lydia's senior, before Wickham suggested an elopement.

With a quick glance around to make sure the Forsters were distracted on the other side of the room, Lydia agreed with her most vapid giggle. "Where shall we meet? Colonel Forster would never allow it, he is so stuffy about the protocol of all matters, and would insist on involving my father and a solicitor to draw up the articles."

Wickham stroked his fingers over her wrist, a liberty that an empty-headed flirt deceived by a practiced seducer might allow, but would see his stabbed if he ever tried it on Lizzy. In the end, they agreed to meet the next morning a street and a few paces away from the Forster's lodgings (which was bordered on both sides by a teahouse, a curio shop, and several other stores, so the area in front was almost always taken up by delivery carts of one kind or another). That was where Lydia often met the Darcy carriage when she visited her sisters, so it was unlikely that Lydia's presence there would be noted as unusual.

The location was also just out of sight of the main road, unless one was looking, and connected to a number of other back streets that could be used to unobtrusively follow a carriage, as long as the pursuer knew what it looked like.

Most of the suggestions for discretion had been Lydia's. Really, it was no wonder Wickham had never successfully eloped with someone before, if his usual planning relied on being charming enough that his target wouldn't question him! All it would take was a single family member asking questions, and angry relations would be after them within an hour!

Lydia dined with the Forsters that evening, and made an excuse about her sisters requesting her company for the day, to which Colonel Forster readily granted permission. After dinner, Lydia packed a small valise with a change of clothing and a short cudgel and tiny ladies' pistol.

Lizzy and Mrs Black and Miss Norris had all insisted that the sisters learn how to defend themselves outside of their costumes, as well as when transformed. Lydia was not fond of guns, too loud and noticeable for her taste, and a ladies' pistol fit only enough powder for a very short range. But a ladies' pistol could be hidden in a reticule or luggage pocket in a way that larger pistols could not.

If Wickham's larger plan involved friends or accomplices, Lydia wanted to be prepared to hold them off until her own back-up arrived.

Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived an hour before Lydia planned to meet Wickham, a plain greatcoat covering his distinctive uniform. It was rather brisk and overcast outside, and his presence only strengthened Lydia's ruse of visiting family.

The street Lydia had arranged to meet Wickham on curved away from the main road through Brighton, and therefore was only clearly visible from a few very specific places, and not for more than a few moments.

Lydia moved further out of sight of the main thoroughfare, and danced a very particular spell.

She was wary of using it, having learned the hard way that Truth was not always kind, or complimentary, and often lacked a great deal in the way of context unless one was wise enough to ask for clarification.

But, if there was anything that could compel Wickham to reveal his plans, it would be this. Lydia and Colonel Fitzwilliam had spent a good deal of time going over the questions she would ask, and all the potential ways around answering them, so that they would not be blindsided. Lydia had no desire to be caught of-guard, and she had even less desire to repeat the misunderstandings of the last time the spell had been used.

They had tried to test the spell with simple questions that they already knew the answer to. It had worked for favourite colours and least favourite foods. Then Kitty had declared Mary to be her favourite sister. 10-year-old Lydia had been distraught, convinced that she had done something horribly wrong to be so displaced in Kitty's affections, and it had taken Jane's intervention to calm them down enough to explain.

Mary was a fellow non-favourite child, and while Lydia was the sister Kitty most enjoyed spending time with, Mary understood what it felt like to be overlooked and to feel unseen.

It was a fair point, Lydia had conceeded after a rare bout of self-reflection, if not the most pleasant thing to hear.

(Lizzy had developed a greater care for mud puddles after poor Maggie, the laundry maid, had been caught in the range of the spell on her way between the Manor and the outbuildings, and made a dry remark about those who had clearly never had the scrubbing of their own petticoats.)

If the spell worked on a maid who would never have dreamed of saying such a thing out loud, much less to her employer - no matter how often she might have thought it - it was to be hoped that it would also work on a practiced liar like Wickham.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was not quite fussing - she would never use such a word to describe him - but put her a little in mind of Mama, when they were about to entertain visitors or host an important occasion, checking and re-checking the smallest details. "Lean back against the cushions and keep your face in the shadows. Try to make sure you are out of the public eye before you prompt him to explain all."

Lydia frowned, hardly needing him to state the obvious. After weeks of a maid or one of her sisters accompanying them on the journey to and from the Forster's lodgings, even a simpleton would have picked up on the dangers of an unchaperoned carriage ride. "I know I am considered something of a flirt, but I have two sisters still unmarried, and I did not so much effort to quell evil in order to spare my best courting years only to end up ruined and on the shelf!"

He had the grace to look contrite, and forced himself into stillness. "Forgive me, I did not mean to imply that I thought you incapable or unaware of the risks."

Lydia supposed that his concern was fair, given how injured Georgiana had been, the last to face off against Wickham in a direct fight. "Very well, I understand your disquiet. Besides, if I am ruined, I expect one of my new brothers can find a tradesman or tenant in need of a wife."

His smile was as genuinely charming as Wickham's was false, but his eyes were honest, and the warm brown of aged honey. "If this venture succeeds, I shall introduce and praise you to the entire War Office, and marry you myself if none of them are to your liking!"

He darted into an alcove as Mr Wickham approached, and Lydia pasted on her prettiest and most vapid smile. Time to get to work, and obsess over the Colonel's promise later. "I shall hold you to that."

Mr Wickham's smile was nowhere near as charming, bordering on a leer, "What was that, my Pretty Lyddie?"

Only Lydia's sisters were permitted to call her that. Lydia repressed a shudder, attaching herself to his arm. "You promised me an adventure, Mr Wickham. I kept myself awake half the night wondering what it might be."

A carriage pulled up, and he handed her up into it. "Oh, it will be an adventure like nothing you could have dreamed. You will be like one of your Gothic heroines, in fact."

Gothic Heroines tended to triumph only after several near-death experiences or other great trials. Lydia could only hope that Wickham was unfamiliar with the kind of novels young ladies fancied, and that her adventure was less harrowing. Mr Wickham's charm and glib tongue were known factors, but so much was unknown, and the unknown was impossible to plan for.

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A/N: This chapter was getting extremely long, and contains a fight scene, which are my Kryptonite and take forever to finish writing. Rather than make you wait, I decided to split the chapter in half.

You can yell at me for that in the comments, if you're so inclined.

The rest is mostly written, and should me up soon. I'm hoping for before next weekend, but no promises.

As ever, constructive criticism is appreciated.

Thanks,

Nat