Page 69

“Your tea, Mr. Collins,” Charlotte said, handing over a steaming cup.

Mr. Collins accepted the cup with a soft word of thanks and leaned over to gloomily inspect the bowl of sugar nodules.

“I did my best to cut them into equal sizes,” Charlotte said quietly.

“I know, my dear, I know,” the parson responded.

“Whatever is wrong, Mr. Collins?” Lydia asked curiously.

“I dislike the lack of symmetry in the sugar lumps. Sugar is shipped in large, nearly conical chunks and cut into pieces with sugar nippers. Of course that means every bit is a slightly different shape and size, which makes it difficult to put exactly the right amount of sugar in the cup.”

“My belief is that the more sugar the better,” the youngest Bennet daughter declared with a smile.

“I like exactly the right amount,” Mr. Collins replied petulantly. “There should be some way to make each lump exactly the same size. Perhaps a round shape would be best, or a cubic shape …”

His gaze grew faraway before Charlotte reclaimed his attention, “How is Petunia, Mr. Collins?”

“Ah, she is very well. Miss Lydia assisted me by singing during the operation.”

Elizabeth, who had just stepped into the parlor, lifted a puzzled eyebrow, “Who is Petunia? And what kind of operation?”

“Petunia is my favorite sow,” Charlotte explained, pouring her friend a mug of tea. “She gave birth to ten healthy piglets two days ago, but last night her neighbor sow pushed over a side of her enclosure and injured her. She had three quite deep cuts.”

“I sewed them up very nicely,” Mr. Collins consoled her. “She was very peaceful while Miss Lydia sang. You have a pleasant voice, Miss Lydia.”

Lydia blushed a little, “I do not sing as well as Lizzy or Kitty.”

“I believe you would do well to sing as an alto,” Mr. Collins stated. “Your voice is suited to lower notes.”

“That is an interesting observation,” Elizabeth mused. “I suppose since I am a soprano, I have always been attracted to music that suits my talents. Perhaps we could find some tunes that are more appropriate for your voice, Lydia.”

Lydia shrugged impatiently. She did not truly care about singing very much.

“Lizzy, while I was singing to the pig, Mr. Collins was stitching up her wounds with silk and horsehair. He is doing a science experiment.”

“Is he indeed? What kind of experiment?”

Lydia screwed up her face in a frown of concentration, “He is boiling both horsehair and silk to see whether boiling somehow helps reduce the amount of infection. I think.”

“That is precisely it, Miss Lydia,” Mr. Collins replied in a delighted tone. “Yes, it seems that boiled horsehair …”

Elizabeth listened with half an ear, her eyes focused on her youngest sister. Lydia was gazing at Mr. Collins with an enthusiasm that her older sister had only seen previously when the youngest Miss Bennet was in the presence of a militia officer. It was wonderful to observe Lydia interested in anything serious. Wonderful and surprising.

***

Pemberley

5th September, 1814

Dearest Mama,

Yes, I too received a letter from Jane with the news that she is again with child. That is truly delightful!

I beg you not to worry about our futures. Neither the Darcy nor the Bingley fortunes are entailed away from the female line. If all of your daughters bear only daughters, which seems exceedingly unlikely, we will be well.

Lydia appears to be happy here, though I know you miss her. She is working with Georgiana preparing for their society debuts for the London Season next year. There are, of course, dresses to be made for each of them, and Lydia has been practicing her curtsey for when she is presented to the Queen ...

The door to the library opened and Elizabeth looked up in surprise. It was early in the morning and after a cup of tea and a piece of toast, she had retreated to the library to write letters while her baby still slept. As the mistress of Pemberley, Elizabeth had her own office, but she preferred to write letters in the library with its gleaming shelves standing in stately glory. The sum total of knowledge in the books here was enough to keep a woman busy for ten lifetimes.

“Lizzy?”

“Lydia? You are up early, dear sister.”

“Yes,” Lydia agreed rather awkwardly, stepping into the room and looking around her curiously.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing is wrong exactly …”

Elizabeth waited patiently and Lydia eventually found the courage to speak, “I have never seen the library here at Pemberley. It is enormous.”

“Yes,” her elder sister replied, gazing around fondly.

“Are there ... are there books about science?”

Elizabeth blinked in surprise and nodded as she stood up, “Yes, a whole section. What are you interested in, my dear?”

“I do not know,” Lydia admitted. “Well, I would like to learn more about silk, and cotton and wool. I find it interesting that silk can be used to stitch wounds, but cotton cannot. Also, where does cotton come from? And silk worms? What are they? I know that wool comes from sheep but how is it made into thread? Why does it keep us so warm?”

The girl blushed and hung her head, “I know I am not intelligent like you and Father, but I would like to learn about more than just clothes and officers.”

“Oh, Lyddy,” Elizabeth exclaimed, sweeping forward to give the girl a warm hug, “You are an intelligent person, and I would be delighted to help you search for books of interest.”

“Thank you, Lizzy.”

***

Fitzwilliam Darcy, master of Pemberley, surveyed the table with a deep sense of satisfaction. His dear Elizabeth was seated at the foot of the table with their daughter in her lap; the baby was eagerly reaching for bits of food from her mother’s plate, and Elizabeth spent her time eating hastily and cutting off appropriate lumps for the child. Darcy knew that most highborn men would be horrified at the presence of a baby at dinner, but he loved that Elizabeth was such an available and loving mother to their daughter.

Georgiana and Lydia were seated across from one another. Since it was a family meal, they were eating in a small dining room, and thus no one needed to shout to communicate.

“I read the most amazing thing this morning!” Lydia declared, helping herself to a bread roll.

“What did you read?” Georgiana asked curiously

“Well, first of all, did you know that there is a woman in the Bible named Lydia?”

“Lydia, seller of purple cloth,” Darcy commented.

“Yes, Mr. Darcy, that is right!” the girl agreed enthusiastically. “I did not know my name came from the Bible. But that is not what I was going to say. Back in the time of Christ, purple was the color of royalty, and the reason is that it was terribly expensive to make!”

Georgiana looked thoughtful, “I suppose that makes sense. If it was difficult to make purple dye, then only the rich could afford it. Did they use flowers to make the dyes?”

Lydia’s face flushed in excitement, “No, Georgiana! They used snails!”

“Snails?”

“Yes, a certain kind of marine snail was harvested by the thousands! They boiled them for days in giant vats and after enough time and work, the workers obtained a purple dye.”

Georgiana shuddered noticeably, “Poor snails!”

“I suppose so,” Lydia said cheerfully. “Yes, I suppose it was quite dreadful for the snails. All the same, is it not fascinating? I have to wonder how they determined that snails could be used for such a process in the first place? It is not as if the snails themselves are purple; one must process them for some time before the liquid attains the proper color.”

“I believe more than once scientific breakthrough occurred due to someone being observant,” Darcy mused. “Perhaps a snail fell into a pot and someone noticed the resulting liquid had a purple cast?”

“It is all marvelous,” Lydia gushed, “absolutely marvelous. I do love your library, Mr. Darcy. There are so many fascinating books about science!”

The man blinked in surprise at this but smiled, “I am glad you think so.”

“Georgiana and Lydia,” Elizabeth said, deftly maneuvering her spoon around the questing hand of her baby and popping a spoonful of soup into her mouth.

“Yes, Elizabeth?” Georgiana asked.

Elizabeth swallowed and continued, “Do not forget that the modiste is coming to fit you for your court dresses today. She is to arrive here in about three hours.”

“I will be finished with my music lesson about that time,” Georgiana said.

Lydia looked thoughtful, “I will be reading in the library, Lizzy. Please send a servant to find me.”

***

The Collins’ Parsonage at Bastow

2 months later

“Are you quite sure that Lydia will be no trouble, Charlotte?” Elizabeth asked in concern. “I know you are very busy with Tobias and the needs of Mr. Collins’s parishioners. Do you really need my excitable youngest sister dashing in and out of the parsonage on a regular basis?”

Charlotte Collins laughed, “My dear Lizzy, I assure you that both Mr. Collins and I are delighted to have Lydia here as long as Mary can spare her. It is not as if Lydia will be sleeping here, after all.”

“I suspect that now that Mary’s son has been born, Lydia will find ways to escape Bastow Hall and make her way here as often as possible. She genuinely loves her nieces and nephew, but she finds them excessively noisy.”

“That is quite all right,” Charlotte replied placidly. “We are glad to have her here. Indeed, Mr. Collins is delighted to have a science protégé. I confess to having little interest in steam engines and the medicinal properties of boiled silk thread, and am relieved to have Lydia as a conversational partner for my dear William; quite often, his conversation is entirely bewildering to me.”

“Mr. Collins is a certifiable genius, of course,” Elizabeth agreed, “but I have to admit that Lydia has astonished me profoundly. She has no interest in Shakespeare or Latin or Greek, but she loves the sciences.”

“I would say, my dear Lizzy, that this is a beneficial situation for us all, then.”