Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) (2 page)

“About what?”

“Encouraging him.”

“I do not!”

“You do not slap his face.”

“That would be like harming a kitten!”

“Or a puppy.” 

Elizabeth laughed and Darcy joined her.  “Why do we feel so protective of him?”

Darcy settled his chin on her head and looked out at the unending rain.  “I think, well besides his being such an amiable fellow, I think that it is because our first true interaction occurred in the process of protecting him.  At the Derby.”  He looked down and smiled.  “Remember?”

“I do.”  She smiled back at him and turned to hold his face in her hands.  “And he brought us together forever.”

“Yes.”  He kissed her and settled his cheek back on top of her head.  “I suppose that makes all things bearable.”

“
Charity beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
”
  Elizabeth murmured as his arms tightened around her.

“You speak of love.”  He whispered. 
“
When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child, but when I became a man, I put away childish things
.”
¹

“I think that he is rapidly becoming a man.”  She whispered and closed her eyes.  “And I think that Captain de Bourgh has long been a man and will not be swayed by the toys dangled before him.”  Darcy gathered her up and settled her on his lap.  Elizabeth caressed his hair and smiled when he lifted her chin with his thumb to kiss her.  “And I am deeply grateful for the
man
who loves me.”

LYDIA WALKED PAST Jessica’s empty bedchamber as she had done every day since she disappeared nearly a month earlier.  This time the door was open and she heard the sound of voices inside.  Excited, she ran in only to find two girls, years older than herself, standing over an open trunk and grimly packing.  “What are you doing?  Those are Jessica’s things!”

“We know, we are her sisters.”  One girl looked at her and went on about her business.  The other girl squeezed her arm and walked up to Lydia.  “I am Jill Simkins, and this is my sister, Emily.” 

“Oh.”  Lydia bit her lip.  “I am Lydia Bennet.”  The girls exchanged glances and she saw that Emily’s eyes rolled.  “What are you doing?”

“Clearly we are packing up her belongings, and we will return to our home where we will wallow for the rest of our lives in the shame that our foolish ungrateful sister has cast upon us and our family.”  Emily said bitterly.  “Why did you not stop her?”

“Me?”  Lydia squeaked.  “I did not know she would run away!”

“You knew she was infatuated with that soldier!”  Emily spat.  “You knew she was selfish and unthinking.  Now we are left to hope that she is found before the neighbourhood realizes she has not come home from school.  At least we have bought some time that way.”  She looked at her sister.  “I suggest that you stop being coy with Mr. Brown and get yourself married before this news spreads.”

“Why is that important?”  Lydia asked when Jill blushed.

“Are you daft?  Jessica is unmarried!  She ran off with a soldier, who I might add is back with his unit with nary a lash across his back for disappearing for three days!  He was on an approved leave, they claim.  He has no idea where she is, he claims.”  She huffed.  “Three days he spent with her, Lord knows where, and then they argued and he left her.  Left her!  Left her at an inn, ruined, utterly ruined and without so much as a shilling.  He did not care.  He got what he wanted out of her.  His friends are laughing I am sure, and his colonel likely laughed with him.”  She picked up a dress and looked at the cut with disgust.  “No wonder he wanted her.  She got everything she ever wanted from Mama, and Papa was unable to see the damage, even after she was sent here.  She was his pretty girl.”  Tears began to slide down her face.  “If she is alive, I cannot bear to think what she is doing to survive.”

“Emily, we cannot possibly know for sure what happened, please stop thinking the worst.”  Jill whispered as her sister shook her head.

“Why could she not come home?”

Emily clearly bit her tongue and Jill said softly, “If there is any chance at all of her sisters marrying respectable men, we will have to be separated forever.  Hopefully our dowries and the public severance of our ties to her will be enough to save us.”  She turned away and folded the dress that Emily had thrown down.  “Unless we find her before everyone knows.”

“Everyone will know.  There are only too many girls here who will gladly spread the word.  If she turns up, she will likely be with child to some man or other.”

“But . . .but Lieutenant Tike would be the father!  He will marry her.”  Lydia whispered.

“You idiotic girl, how do you think our sister is feeding herself now if she lives?  She is on her back in a brothel.”  She saw Lydia’s eyes grow wide.  “Do not play innocent with me; you know exactly what I am talking about.  This school is not a cloister.  You know what happens between men and women.”  Emily went back to the closet and pulled out the rest of the dresses.  “Lydia Bennet, our sister’s friend who ran interference while she batted her eyes at the soldiers.”  She spun back around and glared.  “Why is it not
you
that ran away?  Why can it not be
your
sisters who bear this ruin?  Why are not
your
father and uncles combing London for
you
?  I hope that you learn something from this!  Now get out of here, leave us to our mourning!”

Lydia looked at Jill who gave her a sad smile.  “There is nothing for you here.  Please go.” 

Lydia turned her back on the room and walked out into the hallway.  Inside she saw that Emily and Jill stood embraced and sobbing.  Overcome with horror, she started running, turned a corner, and flew into her room, slamming the door behind her and locking it before falling onto the bed and sobbing into her pillow. Moments later, the knob on the door rattled. 

“Lydia open the door!”  A girl’s voice called.  There was a pause and knocking began.  “Lydia!!!” 

Another girl’s muffled voice was heard.  “What is wrong?”

“She has locked the door.  I heard her talking to Jessica’s sisters.”

“I feel so terrible for them.  Their lives will be ruined along with Jessica’s if this gets out.”

“You know that it will; it is bound to.”  There was another pause and then a knock.  “Lydia?  It is Susan, please open the door.”  The eldest of the girls, and the one appointed by Miss Edwards to watch Lydia hesitated, then seeing the housekeeper passing, asked her to open the door.

Lydia kept sobbing and did not move.  The sound of a key turning preceded the door opening and closing.  Susan took in the scene and sat down on the bed next to Lydia, placing her hand on her back.  “You talked to Jessica’s sisters.  They are devastated.”

“They blame me.”  Lydia gasped and wiped her eyes.  “They said I helped her.”

“Did you?” 

“I . . . I thought we were having fun.  I thought it was all a joke, but I did not know she would run away!  She . . . She was my friend!  Nobody else likes me here, nobody talks to me.  Everybody hates me!   My family hates me!  I . . . I . . . I did not want to come here!  Everything was fine until I came here!  It is all Lizzy’s fault!  She married Mr. Darcy and everything changed!  Papa made us start doing lessons, Mama used to do everything for me, now she is telling me that I am bad.  But . . . I am only doing what she said was good before!  Kitty does not like me, she used to do anything I said, but now she only cares about Georgiana Darcy and the girls at her school!  It is not my fault!”  She sat up and stared at Susan.  “Is it my fault?”

“No, it is not your fault.  Jessica chose to leave with Lieutenant Tike all on her own.  It is her parents’ fault for not doing a better job of teaching her, and making her the way she became, and it is her fault for not taking advantage of this school to improve herself.  She was determined to resist all that was offered here, just as you are.”  She saw Lydia look up at her in confusion.  “All of us who go to this school behaved badly in one way or another.  Most of us have parents who do not really care about us or who over-indulged us.  Nearly every girl here has learned the lesson of how to be a lady and we are grateful for the opportunity to change.  That is why the girls here do not like you, Lydia.  You have sneered at the teachers’ efforts and laughed at the other girls’ accomplishments.  Nobody likes to be laughed at.  I think that you understand that feeling now, do you not?”

“Yes.”  She sniffed and whispered.  “I did not know how it hurt.”

“Did you ever laugh at your sisters?”

“Yes.”  She hugged her pillow.  “I laughed at Kitty.  She used to follow me around, even though I was the youngest.”

“It sounds like she was very lonely and wanted a friend.  You used her for your entertainment.”  Susan stood up and walked over to the desk.  There was a stack of unopened letters there.  She picked them up and started looking at the return addresses.  “You have letters here from Derbyshire, Hertfordshire, London, Gracechurch Street, Longbourn . . . this is a man’s handwriting, your father wrote to you?  Do you know how many girls would give their eye teeth to have their father write to them?”  She put them down and turned.  “And you have not read any of them and have not shown the courtesy of responding?  I find it hard to have sympathy for a girl who shows so little respect.  Your claims of your family’s abandonment are false.  You are the reason you are alone here.”

“I want to go home.”  She whispered.

“Home is not going to ever be what it was before, Lydia.  Your family is moving forward, and they are hoping that you do, too.  Stop waiting for Jessica to come back here and make things as they were before.  She is never coming back here, and she will never get to go home again.  Wherever she is, I can assure you, she is wishing she was in your shoes now, with the opportunities you still have.  Tell me, do you want her fate?”

“No.”  Lydia sniffed.

“There is a school full of girls here who understand you better than you can ever know, but they all had to decide that they wanted to improve themselves and none of them will offer you any friendship until you prove to them that you are serious.  Are you ready to do that?”

“Yes.”  She looked up and wiped her eyes.  “How do I do that?”

“Well, to begin with,” she handed her the stack of letters, “apologize to everyone in your family for ignoring their letters and treating them badly.  Then just start working very hard and listening to your teachers.  If you do that, the other girls will come around.  It is up to you, Lydia.  I would hate to see your family suffer as Jessica’s family will for the rest of their lives for your foolishness.”  Susan patted her shoulder and left the room. 

Lydia started to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand, then standing, went to a drawer and found a handkerchief.  She blew her nose and sat back down on the bed, then picked up the first letter, and shakily broke the seal. 

BINGLEY LEFT MR. GARDINER’S warehouse and began strolling down the street towards the spot where his carriage was parked.  The air was cold and damp, a marked change from the cheery fire and rather fine port that they had enjoyed in Mr. Gardiner’s office as they went over the returns on his investments.  The numbers were swirling around in his mind and he considered what he should do with his profits, add them to his savings or perhaps find some other worthy enterprise?  Lost in thought, he was taken by surprise when a large raindrop splashed on his nose, and was quickly followed by a sudden downpour.  All around him voices cried out in dismay, and spotting a nearby doorway, he ducked inside to escape.  Stamping his feet and staring out at the rain, he was disconcerted by the voice at his elbow. 

“May I help you, sir?”  He took a quick glance around the shop and realized that he was in a purveyor of fabrics, and relaxing, he smiled and turned to face a young man. 

“Thank you, yes.  May I ask the name of your master?”

“Mr. Martin, sir.  He is the proprietor here.”  The boy said quickly.  “He is in the back, if you wish to see him?”

“Mr. Martin!”  Bingley nodded and smiled.  “Yes, please.”  Strolling around the room, he relaxed further, and examined the fabrics, recognizing some from his own mills and unconsciously examining the quality of the competition.  His brow furrowed as he stood between two bolts and compared them.  Mr. Martin bustled up and cleared his throat.

“Ah, I see that you have an eye for the best, sir.  That one there in your left hand is a product of this very country, the mills in Scarborough, that is finely done, notice the fine hand weave sir, very tight, perfect for a lady’s morning frock, or perhaps for a young girl’s dress.  Now that fabric in your right, that is from the Manchester mill, but they use a uniform weave, just begun experimenting with those steam looms.  I don’t know if I hold with them, sir, put a lot of good men out of work, but I suppose that is the way of progress, and well, you have to stay ahead.  Likely the prices will drop then, don’t have to pay a loom, do you sir?  Women and children are cheap labour and good enough to work them.”  He paused for breath and Bingley turned to look at him.  “Why as I live and breathe, Mr. Bingley!  Well then, this is a mighty surprise!  I say, it’s a damn good thing I was praising your product, eh sir!”  Mr. Martin bowed.  “What can I do for you, sir?”

Bingley chuckled.  “You have not changed in the least, Mr. Martin.”

“No sir, don’t mean to.”  He laughed and ushered him back to his parlour located behind the curtain separating the showroom from the workroom.  Bingley looked around and saw a miniature beehive of activity.  “You do not do tailoring here, do you?”

“Oh a bit, a bit.  Branching out, you see.  Was thinking of being an all-inclusive shop, but the competition does not look kindly on it.”  He shrugged.  “But I offer it cheap and quick, so why not?” 

“Why not indeed?”  Bingley took a chair and smiled.  “Well I will be honest with you; I was just ducking out of the rain.”