L ongbourn was quiet the following morning; the ladies of the house were having a lie-in to recover from dancing at the assembly until the wee hours. By the time lunch was over, however, the occupants had resumed their various levels of vigor.
With the expected arrival of the Lucases and Gardiners—a tradition dating back several years for the day after an assembly—the drawing room was filled with lively conversation.
Elizabeth was sitting on the settee, baby Benjamin nestled comfortably in her arms. After greeting the others in the room, Mrs. Gardiner made her way over to Elizabeth and sat down on the settee. The two exchanged warm smiles as the Lucases were announced.
Once everyone was settled, Mrs. Bennet—perched at the edge of her chair and fluttering a lace handkerchief—was the first to speak. “Well! I must say, last night was quite the triumph, was it not? You began the evening very well, Charlotte, being Mr. Bingley’s first choice.”
Charlotte smiled. “Yes, but I do believe he much preferred his second better.”
“Oh, yes,” beamed Mrs. Bennet. “It was quite the triumph for my dear girl, was it not? I knew from the moment I laid eyes on Mr. Bingley that he would admire her, and lo and behold—two dances! Two!” She turned to her eldest daughter. “Jane, my love, he was quite obviously smitten with you.”
Jane turned a becoming shade of pink. “It was very kind of him,” she said quietly. “He was very amiable, but it was still only two dances.”
Mrs. Gardiner chuckled. “Still, Jane, it is a mark of favor. A gentleman does not request a second set unless he is particularly taken.”
“She is quite right,” Lady Lucas added. “There were plenty of young ladies who would have been delighted to dance with him, yet he returned to you.”
Mrs. Bennet sighed dreamily. “Oh, I have no doubt that he will be calling at Longbourn before the week is out.”
“And did you have a nice time, Lizzy?” Mrs. Gardiner asked smoothly, intending to change the topic of conversation.
“I daresay she did not!” scoffed Mrs. Bennet. “First, she is cut by Mr. Darcy, and then she disappeared for the remainder of the evening.”
“Someone gave you the cut direct?” gasped Mrs. Gardiner.
“Yes, and he was the most disagreeable man I have ever had the misfortune to meet,” sniffed Lady Lucas.
Elizabeth hesitated, her fingers twisting the fringe on Benjamin’s blanket. “I actually do not believe he intended to be so rude, Mama.”
Charlotte’s eyebrows rose high on her head. “I must say, Eliza, I would not expect such forbearance from you ! Jane, perhaps… but I would expect you to be mocking him just as much as the rest.”
“I am not so prejudiced as that,” Elizabeth protested, “but in this case, I have firsthand knowledge about the situation that I daresay none of you have.”
The women all leaned in eagerly, even Jane and Mrs. Gardiner. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes were bright. “Yes, my dear?” she asked eagerly.
Elizabeth laughed. “Oh, nothing so dramatic! I simply overheard someone from his party say that he was feeling very unwell with a megrim, but he had come regardless, in support of Mr. Bingley.”
All the ladies sat back in their seats, and Kitty let out a disappointed moan. “What a let-down, Lizzy. I thought you might have a good bit of gossip to share,” the youngest Bennet girl complained.
“Although it does put his behavior in a different light,” Mrs. Gardiner said thoughtfully.
“Indeed,” Mrs. Bennet nodded. “What a good friend he must be.”
“I suppose I shall have to forgive him for ignoring my friend,” Charlotte said with a smirk, “even if that friend did disappear for the second part of the evening.”
Elizabeth pushed back her alarm as the ladies once again looked at her with curiosity. “My goodness, Charlotte,” she said, forcing a laugh, “you act as though I slipped out for a rendezvous on the terrace. No, simply some cramping that had me concerned my courses might have begun early.”
All the women sighed in commiseration. “You are well now, I trust, Lizzy?” Jane asked, concern etched across her lovely face.
“Oh, quite,” Elizabeth assured her, waving a hand dismissively. “It was nothing of consequence.”
“Speaking of disappearances,” said Mrs. Bennet, turning to Mrs. Gardiner, “we were quite disappointed to not see you and your husband last night. I hope everything is alright at home?”
“Yes, I was truly sorry to miss out, but the children had a bit of a fever,” Mrs. Gardiner explained, “and Mr. Gardiner was quite exhausted from matters of business.”
“How is everything going with your new home?” Lady Lucas asked eagerly. “Have you made many changes yet? The drawing room is not as large as I would like, but at least the attics are not as dreadful as those at Purvis Lodge.”
“Stoke Estate is coming along well enough—”
Mrs. Gardiner was cut off by a squeal from Mrs. Bennet. “Stoke Estate—oh, how wonderful that sounds! It is such a comfort, my dear sister, that you are now in possession of your own property. When Mr. Bennet dies,” the lady threw a glare in the direction of her husband’s study, “any of the unmarried girls and I will be taken care of. Not Jane, of course, as she will be settled at Netherfield as Mrs. Bingley by then. I quite despair over Lizzy and Mary, though…”
Her voice trailed off, and Mrs. Lucas once again asked Mrs. Gardiner about her plans for the estate.
“Unfortunately, we will not be making very many changes as of yet. The plan had been to use the money from leasing our London house. After the fire, we spoke to the insurance company to claim payment, but they have been slow in responding.”
“That is unacceptable!” Mrs. Bennet cried indignantly.
“Surely they must know how many families have been affected,” Jane said in a soft voice. “Why would they not provide the help that is so desperately needed?”
“They may not have enough money to pay everyone who lost their property,” Elizabeth explained.
Mrs. Gardiner nodded. “And now an inspector has written to inform us that he will be coming to Meryton to make inquiries about the fire.”
“What kind of inquiries?” Kitty asked.
Mr. Gardiner’s mouth twitched. “It seems that some of the servants at Hyde Park mentioned that our group was among the first to arrive. The inspector finds it curious that we left our home before many others had even woken. He finds it…suspicious.”
Elizabeth blinked in surprise. “Suspicious?”
“He wants to know how we became aware of the fire so quickly.”
Charlotte let out a laugh. “Well, Lizzy, it seems you may have to prove your remarkable sense of smell to an inspector now.”
Lady Lucas chuckled. “Indeed! He will have to be made to understand that Lizzy could detect the fire before anyone else had even noticed.”
Elizabeth groaned theatrically. “If he wishes to be convinced, he may sit me before a tray of spices, and I shall identify them all with ease.”
The room erupted into laughter, but Mary cut it off with a stern admonition. “We must take care not to make light of the trials suffered by our fellow man.”
The room fell into an awkward silence for a few moments, and Benjamin began to stir in Elizabeth’s arms. “How is this little one doing?” Mrs. Gardiner asked, changing the subject. “Has his birthmark faded at all?”
Elizabeth smiled, adjusting the baby in her arms. “Not in the least. It is still as clear as the day I first saw it.”
“Birthmark?” Charlotte echoed curiously.
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied. “The first time I changed his nappy, I discovered a heart-shaped birthmark on his thigh—about the size of my thumb.”
“Oh, how charming!” Lady Lucas cooed.
Charlotte grinned. “A little mark of love for a little boy so well adored.”
Elizabeth pressed a light kiss to Benjamin’s forehead. “Indeed. He has captured all of our hearts, has he not?”
Mrs. Bennet sighed. “He was meant to be ours, from the very beginning.”
For a few moments, the conversation drifted to lighter topics, filled with shared laughter and memories. It was a moment of peace, a brief respite from the challenges ahead.
But in the back of Elizabeth’s mind, she could not help but wonder—what would that inspector make of her ability to smell the fire before anyone else?
∞∞∞
The following day at Longbourn began pleasantly enough, with the household gathering together for breakfast and discussing the day’s plans. That peace, however, vanished the moment Lydia declared her intention of going into Meryton.
“Absolutely not!” shrieked Mrs. Bennet. “Do you not remember what happened to Mrs. Long’s eldest niece last week? I told you girls right then that you would not be allowed to go into the village without a footman.”
Lydia groaned, flinging herself back in her chair. “Oh, Mama! That is so unfair. We always go alone!”
“Yes, but things are different now,” Elizabeth interjected, glancing at her Jane. “With so many displaced people wandering from London, Meryton is not as safe as it was.”
“Unhappy as the event must have been for Miss Long, we must remember that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable,” Mary interjected solemnly, peering over her spectacles at the youngest Bennet daughter. “One false step will involve you in endless ruin; you cannot be too guarded in your behavior towards the undeserving of the other sex.”
Kitty let out a long-suffering sigh, but Lydia was not so easily subdued.
“Well, that’s just ridiculous,” she snapped. “Why should I be punished because of some dirty beggars? It is not my fault people lost their homes in the fire and have come here! I still have mine, and I want to go to Meryton—without some great, lumbering footman breathing down my neck like a watchdog!”
“Lydia,” Elizabeth said sternly, “please see reason. Miss Long is fortunate that the vagrant only made off with her reticule. Had Sir William not happened to be nearby, much worse things could have happened.”
“Is there not a way we can help those poor people?” Jane’s large blue eyes filled with tears. “They must be in truly desperate straits, to behave in such a way.”
“What does it matter?” Lydia burst out. “Nothing would happen to me, for I am quite taller than Miss Long—than any of you! I should be just fine.”
“No, Lydia,” Mrs. Bennet said angrily. “You will do as you are told.”
Lydia stomped her foot hard enough to rattle the dishes on the table, causing Mr. Bennet to lower his morning paper and glower at her over the pages. “Lydia, your shrieking is far less pleasant than usual, and I am rapidly losing my patience. Either lower your voice, or I shall be forced to consider the unthinkable— agreeing with your mother.”
Lydia gasped as if she had been struck. “Papa!”
“I do not make idle threats, my dear.” He raised his paper once more. “Besides, your mother is right. The roads are unsafe.”
Lydia’s eyes flashed with fury. “That is ridiculous! The only danger in Meryton is that it might bore me to death.”
“Then I suppose we must all prepare for your funeral,” Elizabeth quipped with a smirk.
Lydia screeched, turning back to her mother with an expression of utmost betrayal. “Mama, you cannot allow this! I shall be the only girl who is treated like a child!”
Mrs. Bennet dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “Oh, Lydia, my love, you are my baby, but you must listen to your father! I could not bear it if something happened to you.”
Lydia let out a high-pitched growl of frustration and flung herself onto the nearest settee. “This is so unjust! I might as well be locked away in a convent!”
“I may consider the possibility,” Mr. Bennet said dryly.
Elizabeth fought back a laugh as Lydia began to wail.
It was at this precise moment that Mrs. Gardiner arrived. She entered the room just in time to witness Lydia throwing herself backward against the cushion of her chair in an exaggerated show of despair. Her sharp gaze swept over the room, taking in Kitty’s sulky expression, Mrs. Bennet’s flustered distress, and Mr. Bennet’s smirk.
Her brow rose. “A tantrum at the breakfast table, Fanny? This is exactly what I meant the other day. Even Beth is better behaved than this.”
Mrs. Bennet let out a heavy sigh, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “I do see it, Maddie, I do… but what am I to do? She gets so upset.”
At this, Lydia spun toward them, her face a picture of outrage. “What are you talking about?” she shrieked. “Why are you comparing me to some child? I am practically a grown woman! I was out last year, and Beth is barely eleven!”
Mrs. Gardiner fixed her with a cool stare. “And that is precisely the problem, Lydia. In London, girls are not ‘out’ in society before seventeen. When they are let out earlier, they are often spoiled, poorly behaved, and far too immature to make wise decisions about courtship and marriage.”
Lydia let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a sob and a shriek. “This is cruel—unforgivable—I will NEVER forgive you, Aunt Gardiner! You are SO unkind, and I hate you!”
Mrs. Gardiner gestured toward Lydia’s stamping foot and flailing hands. “And this display is only proving my point.”
Lydia let out an indignant screech. “You do not know anything! You do not get to tell me what to do! Mama, are you going to let her—”
“Oh, my nerves,” Mrs. Bennet whimpered, pressing a trembling hand to her temple. “I cannot bear it when she gets like this!”
Mrs. Gardiner exhaled through her nose. “Fanny, I believe it is time someone took Lydia in hand.”
Mrs. Bennet sniffled but gave a tearful nod of permission.
Lydia’s eyes widened. “What does that mean?”
“It means you are coming with me.”
Before Lydia could react, Mrs. Gardiner seized her firmly by the arm and marched her toward the door.
“MAMA!” Lydia wailed, kicking her feet uselessly as she was dragged along.
Mrs. Bennet whimpered into her handkerchief. Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair, looking vaguely entertained.
The door swung shut behind them, muffling Lydia’s continued protests. The remaining family exchanged glances, waiting to hear what would happen next. It was all Elizabeth could do to keep herself from standing and cheering.
All was still and silent, and then—
SLAP!
A loud, unmistakable crack echoed through the hall.
Kitty’s mouth hung open. Jane paled. Mary adjusted her spectacles, as if questioning whether she had imagined the sound.
Mrs. Bennet let out a weak noise and promptly fanned herself.
For a long moment, no one spoke, then Kitty whispered, “Do you think she really…?”
Mr. Bennet cleared his throat. “Well,” he mused. “That is one way to handle things.”
The door opened, and Mrs. Gardiner re-entered the room alone, her expression entirely composed.
Lydia was nowhere in sight.
Mrs. Gardiner dusted off her hands. “Now then,” she said smoothly, as if nothing at all had happened. “If you all have finished eating, shall we adjourn to your drawing room, Fanny?”
Nodding mutely, Mrs. Bennet rose from her seat and lead the way for her family to the drawing room.
“I will fetch Benjamin,” Elizabeth said, eager for a moment to collect her thoughts—and perhaps have a private laugh at Lydia’s chastisement.
As she stepped into the hall, Hill appeared from the direction of the still room. “Oh, Miss Lizzy, a message arrived just now from Netherfield.”
“Ah, from Mrs. Nicholls about Mr. Darcy?”
“Yes, miss,” Hill said. “She says he would be grateful for any medicine we can spare… I was not entirely certain what that meant.”
Elizabeth’s lips parted in surprise. So, he truly had found relief from them. Somehow, she had half-expected him to ignore her suggestion altogether.
“That’s my fault, Hill,” Elizabeth apologized. “I gave some of Kitty’s herbs to Mr. Darcy last night when he was coughing at the assembly and told him we could provide more if he found them effective. I meant to tell you, but I had not found the time.”
“I see. Shall I send them, then?”
“Of course. Please see that a proper portion is dried and packaged, and I will write out the list of ingredients.” She paused, one foot on the stairs. “And if Mrs. Nicholls asks, assure her that there is plenty more should Mr. Darcy require it.”
Hill gave a knowing smile. “Very good, miss.”
With that settled, Elizabeth continued upstairs to the nursery, where Nurse sat knitting near the fireplace. “He’s just now stirring, Miss Lizzy. It is almost like he knew you were coming.”
Benjamin was lying in his cradle, blinking up at the ceiling with wide, curious eyes. The moment he saw her, his tiny arms flailed excitedly, and a soft coo escaped his lips.
“Oh, my love,” Elizabeth murmured, scooping him up and pressing a kiss to his plump cheek. “Have you been a good boy?”
Benjamin gurgled in response, snuggling into her embrace. Cradling him close, she returned downstairs to the drawing room, where Mrs. Gardiner was already deep in discussion with Mrs. Bennet.
“—but you must hold firm, Fanny,” Mrs. Gardiner was saying as Elizabeth entered and took a seat on the settee. “Lydia’s behavior is not just a matter of youthful high spirits. It is a true risk to her future, and to that of your entire family.”
Mrs. Bennet sniffed, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. “But she is so young! It is natural for a girl of her age to want some enjoyment—”
“Enjoyment is one thing, recklessness is another,” Mrs. Gardiner interrupted. “Fanny, if she is not reined in now, what do you suppose will happen? I tell you plainly—if she is not checked, I will not allow her to stay with us should the worst befall Mr. Bennet.”
A stunned silence filled the room.
Even Elizabeth, who had been prepared for a lecture, looked up sharply. "Aunt," she said, her tone caught between shock and reproach.
Mrs. Gardiner did not waver. "And if she is allowed to run wild before then—if she ruins herself and drags your reputations down with her—none of you will be welcome."
A stunned hush fell over the room. Even Kitty, who was usually inclined to defend Lydia, seemed too shocked to speak.
Mrs. Bennet raised a trembling hand to her chest. "Maddie, surely you do not mean—"
"I do," Mrs. Gardiner interrupted. "I love my nieces, but I love my own children more. I will not risk their futures for Lydia’s foolishness. You must take her in hand, or you will all suffer the consequences."
Mrs. Bennet burst into fresh tears, while Jane reached for her hand in silent comfort. Elizabeth, meanwhile, swallowed hard and looked down at Benjamin, his tiny fist wrapped around her finger.
But Aunt Gardiner is right. Something must be done, or Lydia could ruin us all .
“Very well, Maddie,” Mrs. Bennet whispered. “I will do what I can.”
Elizabeth let out a slow breath. Hopefully it is not too late .