Loving Lydia Read online

  Westonbury’s brow furrowed. “She did, but I am not unaccustomed to that.”

  “She is a Bennet,” Darcy said. “They do seem to possess a power that few others do.”

  Westonbury laughed. “That is the most ridiculous thing I think I have ever heard you say, Darcy.”

  “It may sound ridiculous, but I assure you it is true. I helped stage the compromise of which Mrs. Salter was speaking.”

  The sound of a maid passing the door was the only sound that penetrated the room for a full two minutes while Westonbury stared, open-mouthed at Darcy.

  “It was necessary to be able to give me a chance of winning Elizabeth’s heart,” Darcy said as he pushed up from his chair. “Speaking of whom, I should like to see her before she goes home.” He looked at Richard. “Do you wish to see Lydia?”

  His cousin smiled sadly. “With all my heart, but I cannot.”

  “Then, I shall pass along your sorrow at needing to rest instead of seeing her,” Westonbury said as he joined Darcy in standing.

  “No, Darcy can do that.”

  Westonbury shook his head. “Darcy has his own lady who will claim his attention.”

  “You are a –“

  “Yes, I am,” Westonbury cut his brother’s words off. “Get some rest,” he added before turning to leave. “Richard,” he called from the door.

  “Yes.”

  “I am pleased you were not injured any further than you were.”

  “I wish I could say I am as well,” Richard replied, “However, I have not yet decided if I am pleased or not.”

  ~*~*~

  “He is in a sorry state, is he not?” Westonbury said to Darcy when they were both in the hall.

  “He wanted to stay at Pemberley.”

  “Because of Miss Lydia?”

  Darcy nodded.

  Westonbury blew out a breath as he stood at the top of the stairs. “I am uncertain how Mother will take the news of her son marrying someone with no standing in her circles.” He cast a look back toward Richard’s room. “However, he is excessively smitten.”

  The two cousins began their descent of the stairs.

  “Go to the library,” Westonbury said when they were about halfway down. “I will have Miss Elizabeth meet you there.”

  Darcy eyed his cousin suspiciously.

  Catching Darcy’s eye, Westonbury smiled. “I shall require a detailed account of the compromise you were part of in return for my service.” He clapped Darcy on the shoulder as they gained the landing. “A gentleman who has been separated from the lady he fancies should not have to be reunited with her where there is an audience.”

  Darcy chuckled. “I see your point, but there is Lydia.”

  “Trust me. If she were any other man’s lady, I might attempt to charm her away from him, but not my brother – or you, but she is not your lady,” he added quickly.

  “She is my sister – or will be,” Darcy cautioned.

  “And I will treat her as I do Georgiana. Now, go.”

  Darcy thanked him and hurried to the library. There was still a niggling fear that he should have been the one to speak to Lydia about Richard, but Westonbury had always been gentle with Georgiana. Surely, Darcy could trust him with this. Besides, he would be able to see Lydia before she left.

  He made a circuit of the library while he waited for Elizabeth. Bingley did need to work on acquiring a few more books. The shelves were not barren, but they were not as full as Darcy thought they should be.

  “Fitzwilliam?”

  Darcy sighed in relief. She was here. He turned toward her and opened his arms, and she wasted no time in finding her way into his embrace.

  “I have missed you,” he said as he held her close.

  “And I have missed you.” She squeezed him more tightly.

  “Kiss me.”

  She lifted her head from where it rested on his heart and tipped her face up towards him.

  He cradled the back of her head with his hand and lowered his lips to hers, kissing her gently, longingly.

  “When can we marry?” he asked.

  “Tomorrow?” she replied.

  He chuckled. “That is likely too soon, I suppose. Your mother would not be best pleased to be rushed in planning a wedding breakfast. And Richard would not be able to attend. Nor could I leave him here without me.”

  She cupped his cheek. “If his recovery is to be of a long duration, I can join you here. I do not care where we are as long as we are together.”

  He dipped his head and kissed her once again. He was of the same mind. He wished to never be parted from her again, but that time was not yet. “When Richard is able to join us for the wedding breakfast, then we shall marry.”

  “And if he refuses to attend?”

  Darcy sighed. “I am trusting that he will recover in mind as quickly as he does in body.”

  “A week will tell us more,” Elizabeth assured him. “It is all very new.”

  “How is Lydia?”

  “She is shaken and fearful. It is very unlike her.”

  Darcy’s heart broke at the revelation.

  “However,” Elizabeth continued, “I will be very surprised if she does not rise to the challenge. A Bennet always does. Look at what Jane did to claim her love.”

  How fortunate was he to have a lady who could tease him into better spirits even in the face of such uncertainty?

  “And if she does not?”

  “I shall love you, and we shall face it together.”

  “That is a very good plan,” Darcy said, pulling away from her some to smile down at her. “Now, before my cousin formulates some scandalous story about why you were absent for so long, we should return you to the drawing room.”

  “Should I worry about him?” Elizabeth asked as she wrapped her arm around Darcy’s.

  “Not overly much,” Darcy assured her. “Wes and Richard are not just brothers but good friends. He is a scoundrel, but he knows his place. He will behave as he should.” Darcy leaned his head towards her ear. “He also knows that neither Richard or I would allow him to treat poorly anyone for whom we cared. And I care very dearly for you, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

  “And I, you, Mr. Darcy.” They had stopped outside the drawing room and, lifting onto her toes, she kissed his cheek before the door was opened and they left their private moment behind.

  Chapter 16

  “Good day, my lord. How does your brother fare today?” Elizabeth asked when Darcy, Bingley, and Lord Westonbury entered the sitting room at Longbourn.

  “Well enough to order me out of his room,” Westonbury replied with a grin.

  “He was resting when we left,” Darcy added, glancing around the room.

  “Our mother was needed in the kitchen,” Jane said.

  “Ah, I was wondering where she was.”

  “Was it too quiet a greeting?” Elizabeth teased.

  Darcy chuckled. “In a word? Yes.”

  “Then, Mr. Darcy, you will be delighted to know that she is anxiously awaiting her opportunity to meet a real lord, so your desire for an effusive greeting will not go unmet,” Elizabeth said. “And then, we shall go for a walk.”

  “Where our mother’s delights will no longer be able to be heard,” Mary muttered from where she sat in the corner of the room.

  Elizabeth gave Mary a stern look. It was one thing to add sardonic comments to a conversation when it was just their close family and friends who were present. It was another thing altogether when one was entertaining a person of importance whose opinion could affect the future happiness of a lady’s sisters. As was normal, a stern glare did little to affect Mary, who merely stared blankly in return as if to say, “but it is true.” And it was true. Elizabeth knew that her mother would not greet Lord Westonbury quietly, for the more excited their mother became, the louder her voice grew.

  “Lord Westonbury, this is my sister Mary,” Jane said, “and next to Lydia is Kitty. Mary, Kitty, this is Mr. Darcy’s cousin, the Viscount Westonb
ury.”

  Mary placed her sewing aside and rose – reluctantly, it seemed to Elizabeth – to curtsey and greet Lord Westonbury properly.

  “And tell me, Miss Mary,” Westonbury said, making his way across the room to sit near her, “should I fear this introduction to your mother?”

  Mary raised an eyebrow at him. “You are likely safe as long as you do not tell her that you know Sally.” She leaned around him to see Lydia. “That was the lady’s name at the brothel, was it not?”

  “Mary!” Elizabeth scolded. “A proper lady does not speak of such things.”

  “And an honourable gentleman does not do such things, and yet here we are.” She gave Westonbury an appraising look but said no more.

  “I am not offended,” Westonbury said.

  Mary opened her mouth to speak but closed it again when Elizabeth glared at her. “Then, allow me to be offended on your behalf. I assure you that my sisters do know how to comport themselves properly.”

  Again, Mary’s brow rose as if to ask, “do we?”

  Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand in his, drawing her attention away from her troublesome sister. Mary was far too opinionated and outspoken at times. How anyone as wonderful as Mr. Darcy wished to tie himself to a family such as hers was at this moment beyond her! However, Elizabeth was exceptionally glad for his willingness.

  “I have written to my aunt and uncle, informing them that Richard is well and has been installed in a room at Netherfield,” Darcy said.

  “Will they visit him?” Lydia asked.

  “I would expect that, at least, my mother would visit, but I am sure my father will join her if he has no pressing matters which must come first,” Westonbury said.

  “And will he see them?” Lydia had been very sorry to not have been allowed to see with her own eyes that the colonel was not in grave danger.

  “I imagine he will not be given the choice,” Westonbury replied. “My mother is not the sort of lady to be put off.”

  “Is she pleasant?” Lydia was twisting her fingers in her lap, an action that seemed not to go unnoticed by Westonbury.

  “She is, though she can also be demanding.” He smiled. “However, I am certain she will be happy to meet all of Richard’s new friends and relations.”

  It appeared as if Lydia wished to inquire further, but just at that moment, Mrs. Bennet entered the room, and Mr. Darcy rose first to greet her and then introduce her to his cousin, effectively putting an end to any previous conversation.

  “A real lord – in my home!” Mrs. Bennet was overflowing with delight. “There will not be a neighbour who will not be jealous of my good fortune, I must say.” She paused. “However, it would be a much more delightful thing to be called on by someone such as yourself, my lord, if the honour did not come because of the injury to our dear colonel.”

  “I would agree. An injury is not something someone ever wishes on those they hold dear,” Westonbury said.

  “My husband will be sorry to have missed your visit, my lord, but he is gone out to view a tenant’s home today.” She turned to Mr. Darcy. “Sir William was kind enough to take him in his cart, and I was able to send a few things for the tenant’s wife in the back of it. It was really just the thing, but then Sir William is often thinking about practicalities such as that.”

  “Sir William is a delight!” Bingley said.

  “Indeed, he is!” Mrs. Bennet agreed. “Mr. Bennet and Sir William have been particular friends for years.” She smiled softly. “He never once questioned my becoming mistress of Longbourn. His wife…” She did not finish the thought. “Lady Lucas and I have become dear friends, of course. It was only natural that it should happen, you see, as our husbands spend so much time in one another’s company.”

  “You were not friends with Lady Lucas before you married Papa?” Lydia asked.

  “Oh, we knew one another, but we were no more than acquaintances.”

  “How very odd,” Lydia said. “I had thought you were always friends.”

  “That is because we are such good friends now,” Mrs. Bennet replied. “And it was a very little trial to become better acquainted once I was married to your father. One just presents herself as who she is even if she does not feel completely up to the challenge and eventually, one finally believes it herself.” She turned to Lord Westonbury. “Would you care for tea now or after you have toured the area? Lizzy tells me that you are all to walk out. I had thought after, but I was not certain if that would be acceptable to you.”

  “I am amenable to after,” Westonbury said.

  “That is very gracious of you, my lord.” She beamed at him. “I will not keep you from your walk, then, but will wait to hear about your family when you return.” Her brow furrowed. “Is there a Lady Westonbury?”

  “Not yet.”

  Her brows rose. “But there is one who will soon be?”

  “No, I fear, there is not.”

  “Oh, that is unfortunate,” Mrs. Bennet said with some feeling. “A handsome gentleman such as yourself should not be unattached.”

  Mary mumbled something that, to Elizabeth, sounded a lot like, “Yes, he should be.”

  “I apologize, Miss Mary. I did not quite catch that,” Westonbury said, leaning his head closer to her.

  “There was nothing to be caught,” she replied, though her cheeks did grow faintly red.

  “Shall we be off then?” Bingley stood quickly, much more quickly than Elizabeth had ever seen him do before. Perhaps he too feared what might come out of Mary’s mouth next if they were not to leave the room quickly.

  Bonnets and wraps were at the ready, so the preparation for departure was very little, and they were off quickly.

  Mrs. Bennet saw them to the door herself, or more accurately, she saw Lord Westonbury to the door and made certain to tell him at least twice more how delighted she was to have met him.

  “That was not so very bad,” Westonbury said when they were well away from the house.

  “Indeed, it was not,” Mary agreed.

  Westonbury stopped dead in his tracks. “Was Miss Mary just agreeable?”

  “I believe she was,” Lydia replied when no one else said anything.

  “I try to always agree with that which is correct,” Mary retorted.

  “Ah, I see.” Westonbury smirked at her, causing her to scowl.

  “Mary, will you walk with me,” Elizabeth said. It was probably best for Mary to be separated from the viscount.

  “I am going to walk with Kitty,” Mary answered.

  “I am walking with Lydia,” Kitty replied.

  “My arm is not taken,” Westonbury offered.

  Mary looked at the arm he offered, raised a brow while giving him a look of perturbed displeasure, and then very cautiously placed her hand on it.

  “Why?” Bingley whispered to Darcy as the group began walking once again. “She obviously does not like him. Why would he subject himself to what could very likely be a lecture?”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Elizabeth admitted. “It is as if he wishes to provoke her.”

  Darcy sighed. “I cannot answer with any certainty, but I do not think he has ever met someone who is so completely unaffected by either his title or charm – at least, not a female someone.”

  “He will not sway her opinion,” Jane said. “Once Mary’s good opinion is gone, it is excessively hard to reclaim.”

  “It would take an act of heroic proportions,” Elizabeth agreed.

  Mary was firm in her resolve. That was why Mary wore dresses without a lot of adornment. She did not like flounces and ribbons, and no amount of protest or persuasion by their mother or younger sisters had ever convinced Mary that she should do more than add a row of flowers around a hem or neckline. Simply put, Mary was not overly ornate. She was as she dressed – practical, sturdy, and modest nearly to the point of being dull.

  “Mary!” Lydia snapped, drawing the attention of one and all.

  “I assure you that I am not offended o
verly much,” Westonbury said.

  Elizabeth’s breath caught. What had Mary said while she had not been paying attention?

  “A great deal of our argument was my doing.” Westonbury looked at Darcy sheepishly. “I overstepped.”

  “You are not the only one, then!” Lydia cried. “Mary has no business speaking as she did to anyone let alone Colonel Fitzwilliam’s brother. Why just think how he would feel to hear you attacking his brother!”

  “I was not attacking him,” Mary protested. “I was making a point – a very good and extremely accurate point!”

  Lydia stamped her foot. “It was not proper. Do you wish for him to think we are not proper? Do you truly want him to tell his parents and his brother that we are not fit to be known to them?”

  “I would never –”

  “You might if she continues down the path she has chosen.” Lydia folded her arms and scowled at Mary.

  Westonbury looked to Darcy in confusion.

  Elizabeth sighed and, with a sad smile for Darcy, she dropped his arm and went to Mary.

  “I think it might be best if we were to walk together.”

  “But what of Mr. Darcy,” Mary said.

  “Mr. Darcy is not causing a scene,” Elizabeth replied.

  “And neither am I. Lydia is doing that.”

  “Because you were being rude!”

  “I was not being rude. I was being honest.”

  “The two are not always exclusive,” Jane said. “Sometimes honest facts can be presented in a very unpolite fashion.”

  “And they were!” Lydia said.

  Mary’s eyes narrowed. “I would have rather stayed at home and read anyway. I only came because Lydia wanted it.” She lifted her chin and began stalking silently homeward.

  “We do not wish for you to leave,” Westonbury called after her.

  “It may not be what you wish,” she retorted, “but it is what you have gotten.”

  “She is impossible,” Lydia said with another stamp of her foot.

  “Shall I go after her?” Jane asked.

  Elizabeth shook her head. When Mary was in high dudgeon, there was little anyone could say to help her see reason. Later, after there had been time enough for her to calm, then she could be more easily approached.