Notes:
NSFW
Lydia, the youngest Bennet daughter and darling of her mother's heart, was all of 7 years old when she overheard her mother, aunt and the other ladies of the neighbourhood cluck their tongues disapprovingly, as they gleefully shared stories of young Sarah Whitfield, of Netherfield Park, who had 'lifted her skirts' and ended up 'high in the belly'. Lydia was the very embodiment of the proverb 'little pitchers have big ears' and as she went outside to play, her head was full of the notion of lifting one's skirt.
As she stood behind a copse, well outside the view of anyone in the house, she took hold of her frock and pinafore with both hands, and experimentally lifted them up until the hem was just under her bum. She took a step, and another, and relished the greater freedom of movement she experienced, as well as feeling the wind on her bare legs. Joyfully, she twirled around, taking her skirt up even higher.
Over the years, she would often enjoy the sense of freedom she had when her legs were free to jump, dance and run unencumbered. Where her sister walked and ran early in the morning, Lydia would use stealth and hide behind the stables or in the forest, before she danced.
Her dancing lessons taught her to leave her skirts down, or be severely reprimanded. She would never see a ball if she did not learn to dance with proper decorum, she was told. Her parents were united in this, a most uncommon circumstance.
Alas, she was not told about the dangers of consuming too much drink and was unaware of how chatty and amiable she became after consuming a few glasses of punch.
When the arrival of a regiment of soldiers was announced, Lydia was encouraged to attract the attentions and affections of the officers, by her frenzied mother. When those men asked about her interests during a ball, after giving her some punch more than once, she happily chatted about running and dancing with her skirts hoisted up, and about how pleasurable it was to have the wind tickle the skin of her legs.
She would soon learn that the officers would greatly enjoy touching her under her skirts, and the novelty of a man's hand caressing her bare legs was a pleasure unlike anything she had ever experienced. Some of the officers had nicer hands and a lighter touch than others, and those would tickle her special, secret spot until she saw stars.
When a dashing lieutenant followed up his hands with his tongue, Lydia was insensible with exstacy. Who knew there was such pleasure to be had? Lydia's cries of delight were overheard by more than one person in the vicinity of her usual hiding places. The dashing lieutenant pleasured her until she was feeling boneless and hazy with delight, before he brought about his own climax inside her sacred spot.
The first time hurt a bit, but after that, he promised her only pleasure if she would just let him feel all of her, sans skirts. To prove his devotion, he relished her repeatedly and extensively, so she knew it would not ever hurt again.
Not much later, the neighbourhood gossips, sans Lydia's mother and aunt, would once again cluck their tongues disapprovingly.
Lydia was sent to Scotland, where the weather was cold, the men strong and she was often called 'bonnie'. Nearby lived the MacGrady's, a family with six tall, braw lads and Lydia was fascinated. She did not touch her own skirts, not just yet, but it wasn't very long until bonnie Miss Lyddie had peeked under every MacGrady man's kilt.