Page 8 of Body and Soul (Darcy and Elizabeth Variations #8)

Chapter Eight

November 28, 1811 Longbourn Elizabeth

“M rs. Bennet.”

Elizabeth looked up from the ledger in front of her. “Yes, Mr. Bennet?” she asked, smiling warmly.

“May I ask why Lydia remains in her chamber? She is stomping about, and I can hear all manner of odd noises emanating from within.” He frowned. “It is disturbing the peace.”

“Lydia will stay where she is until she can behave in a more ladylike manner,” Elizabeth replied bluntly. She dipped her pen into the inkwell and recorded the total from the sums she had just performed.

“Can you not find some other punishment? The racket is beyond my tolerance.”

He sounded rather petulant and enough like Lydia that Elizabeth grinned. Papa would not like that comparison, she thought amusedly. “Our youngest daughter has behaved like a hoyden long enough,” she replied aloud, carefully closing the ledger.

He scoffed. “You have never cared in the past. Why now? They are nearly grown and it would cause upheaval to insist they behave.”

“What would you have me do?” She turned and looked at him pointedly. She could never challenge him like this as Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but as Mrs. Fanny Bennet, Elizabeth hoped to have more influence over Mr. Bennet’s actions. She had to try, even if Mama thought she would fail.

“If you are so set on this path, find another way to achieve your aims. Lydia cannot continue destroying everything around her!”

“Because it disturbs your peace?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at him. “Then let us hire a governess or a companion. Having someone who can resist Lydia’s fits of temper would be a prudent course of action.”

“Hire a governess? Have you gone mad? I recall you saying ten years ago that there was no one better to raise our girls than you! What has possessed you to consider the notion now?“ Papa threw his hands in the air and began pacing the small space.

“Does it bother you I have now seen the need? Is it so dreadful that I can admit when I am mistaken and seek to correct my behavior?” Elizabeth stood and did her best to work her mother’s expression into a stern look. She frowned minutely.

Papa ceased his pacing and turned to face her. He looked at her—really looked—for the first time since Elizabeth woken to find herself in her mother’s body. “Something is different,” he murmured.

“Perhaps something is.” She moved around the desk. “With your permission, I shall send out inquiries.”

He frowned. “We will need to cut spending.” His tone sounded scornful.

“I have already done so. We are saving enough in various places to afford a governess.”

“It will be far too much trouble for me to manage everything,” he said begrudgingly. “If you pen the letters, I shall give you the funds. Maybe in six months or so—”

“No,” she cut in. “If you are unwilling to help me now, I will do it myself.” Elizabeth felt more frustrated with her father than she ever recalled in her entire life. Why did he resist change when it was good? Why did he treat her mother with dismissal and disdain?

Lydia was still in her room when teatime came. Elizabeth knocked lightly on her door and entered. Gasping, she looked around, shock and dismay coursing through her. “Lydia,” she breathed. “What have you done to this room?”

The drapes were pulled down and shredded. Great scratches marred the front of the wardrobe. Her mattress had been slashed and all the bed linens, too. The coverlet lay in two pieces on the ground, ink dumped in a puddle on the bright blue fabric. The destruction grew worse everywhere Elizabeth turned. Her dismay slowly changed to simmering anger.

“Very well,” she said evenly. “I know how to act.” She turned and left the room, closing the door and then locking it behind her. “Simon!” she called, walking as quickly as she could down the stairs. “Hill!” Both servants appeared, looking a little nervous at their supposed mistress’ agitation.

“I want the nursery opened,” she said stiffly. “Pull a cot from the attic and have it made up for Miss Lydia. She may have a pillow made of stuffed rags and a rough woven blanket. No comforts of any kind. When the room is ready, please inform me and we shall move my daughter there directly.”

Hill blinked. “Y-yes, madam,” she said uncertainly. “Mistress, may I ask… what has happened?”

“You will know soon enough. Her room is in complete disarray. We shall have to redo the entire thing, such is the damage! Foolish child!” Elizabeth threw her hands in the air and began to pace. Her mother’s body could not move as swiftly as she liked, but the back-and-forth movement calmed her a little. “Simon, you will need help to move the damaged furniture. Oh, how will we afford a governess if we must replace expensive furnishings?” She felt genuinely distressed.

“If I may, madam.” Simon stepped forward. “We may be able to repair some of the damage. I can bring Jones in from the stables. He has some woodworking experience.”

She nodded, grateful they may have a way forward that did not require expensive purchases. “Thank you both. Please complete your tasks as quickly as possible.” They both nodded and departed. Sighing, Elizabeth walked slowly away in search of her mother.

She found Mama/Lizzy in the parlor with Jane. “Lizzy,” she said quietly, “I need to speak to you. Will you come?” Jane frowned in confusion as Mama came to her feet instantly. She supposed her sister’s confusion made sense—never had she—as Elizabeth—obeyed their mother so readily and without complaint.

When they were out of the room, she turned to Mama. “Lydia has destroyed her chambers,” she whispered. “I have arranged to have her locked in the nursery. We need assistance. Papa has reluctantly approved hiring a governess. It is certain we shall need someone that can handle a willful, disobedient child. Oh, Mama, it looks terrible!” Elizabeth buried her face in her hands, shaking her head. “What have I done? Have I pushed for too much too soon?”

Mama patted her arm soothingly. “We knew this would happen. Why do you think I have not made the attempt all these years? I admit, I saw only what I wished to see in her behavior. I encouraged it! Now we must reap what we have sown. Or rather, what I have sown. Lydia will settle when she sees she will not get her way.”

“How can you be so certain?” Elizabeth asked desperately.

“Because when I employed the same methods on you and Jane, it worked beautifully. Although you were both much younger than Lydia.” Mama smiled sadly. “Let us hope we can make things right.”

Readying the nursery did not take long. Elizabeth examined the work with satisfaction. A lumpy cot sat in one corner, covered with a scratchy blanket and boasting a pillow stuffed with rags, just as she directed. A fire had been lit, warming the space. There were two doors in the room. One led out into the hallway and the other led to the chamber that would house the governess. One window let light in. The nursery was on the third floor of Longbourn—Lydia could not escape through there.

“Very good,” she said approvingly. “Simon, come with me to Miss Lydia’s chambers.” She turned and left the nursery, and the footman followed. At Lydia’s door, Elizabeth withdrew a key and unlocked it. Stepping inside, she looked around at the disarray and chaos covering every inch of the room. Lydia stood defiantly in the middle of it all, her hair down and her arms crossed in front of her.

“Simon.” Elizabeth stepped aside and allowed the footman to enter. “Lydia, you may go of your own accord, or Simon will… escort you. What will it be?”

Lydia stomped her foot and stuck out her tongue.

“So be it. Simon, take one side.” Elizabeth marched up and took hold of Lydia’s other side. They pulled her from the room. She dug her heels into the ground and struggled.

“I will not go!” she screeched. “It is not fair! This is my chamber! Let go!” Her protestations continued as they climbed the stairs and forced her into the nursery. Lydia’s cries of ill use ceased as she looked around the room. “I cannot stay here!” she cried. “I shall die! Why, there is not even a proper bed!”

“You ruined your ‘proper bed,’” Elizabeth replied firmly. “Here is where you will stay until your behavior improves. The door will be locked. Simon or Hill will bring your meals. If you waste your food, you will get nothing else.”

“Why are you doing this?” Lydia’s cries seemed genuine now, albeit confused. “What has happened? Mama, you have never been so cruel!”

“That is perhaps my greatest folly,” Elizabeth whispered. She felt a little guilty speaking for her mother, even though she simply repeated sentiments already discussed between them. “Lydia, your poor choices have led to this conclusion. I hope you learn to appreciate what you had now that you have lost it.” She turned on her heel and shut the door, locking it behind her. Sagging against the frame, she sighed deeply.

“If I may, madam, you are doing right by Miss Lydia.” Simon looked nervous, head bowed and looking at his feet as he spoke.

“Thank you, Simon.” At least Papa cannot hear the chaos now that she is on the third floor, Elizabeth thought.

She spent the afternoon with Simon, Hill, and Sally, sorting through the disaster in Lydia’s chambers. The drapes and coverlet were completely ruined. Hill took the fabric away, promising to salvage what she could. “I am certain I could repurpose the larger pieces,” she assured her mistress. “The smaller bits can go in the rag bin.”

Ink had seeped into the rug. Despite Sally’s best efforts with a brush, the thick, plush carpet remained permanently stained.

“If you reposition it, you could hide the stain under the bed, madam,” Simon pointed out.

“That is an excellent idea. Thank you.” Simon asked Jones to come inside and together they shifted the bed. Before they could reposition the rug, Mama came in, gasping as she took in the destruction wrought by Lydia.

“Oh,” she moaned, shaking her head. Coming closer, she pointed at the rug. “That was purchased less than two years ago! And now it is ruined!”

“Never fear. We will hide the stain under the bed.” Elizabeth explained their plan and her mama smiled approvingly.

“Lizzy,” she whispered, leaning close, “I would like to replace the rug in your room, eventually.”

Elizabeth flushed. Her rug was incredibly threadbare, but she had avoided saying anything. “My room is fine,” she whispered back. “At least until we have the funds to replace it. For now, Lydia must be the focus.”

“As you wish.” Mama patted her hand affectionately. “Lydia will likely be in the nursery for some time.”

“We need it. Jones says he can repair the wardrobe and the other furniture. This chamber is hardly fit to live in right now.” Elizabeth shook her head in disgust.

“Not that you need it, my dear, but I approve of your actions. Thank you for being brave when I could not be.” Mama patted her arm again and then left the room.

Elizabeth knew Hill and Simon watched her curiously. She pretended not to notice, giving her last instructions before leaving the room. She needed a rest. Emotionally exhausted, she went to her chambers to lie down for a time. She still had to pen inquiries for a governess. Thirty minutes, she thought. Then I shall get up.

Her short nap turned into a long rest, and she awoke an hour and a half later. Disoriented, she tried to make herself wake up faster. It would seem her mother’s body did not work that way, and so after another half hour, she finally felt equal to moving around. Elizabeth wasted no time penning a few letters, sanding and sealing them to take downstairs with her. It was almost time for the evening meal!

Dinner that evening was subdued. No one commented on Lydia’s absence. Mr. Bennet gave his fifth daughter’s normal seat a pointed look but made no other remark. Kitty looked nervous, as if she were afraid that she would be punished next. She need not have worried. As long as she behaved, she would be free of consequences.

“You have had a busy day, Mrs. Bennet.”

Elizabeth jumped a little at her father addressing her. She shared a glance with Mama, who sat at her right in Lydia’s usual place. “I believe we accomplished much,” she said hesitantly.

“I understand Lydia has been banished to the nursery.” He frowned. Surely he did not disapprove!

“She has.” Elizabeth tried to keep her tone neutral. She could not guess what her father thought of the situation. He seldom approved of anything his wife did.

He grunted. “I hope you know what you have got yourself into,” he said stiffly. “At least I cannot hear her anymore. Tell me, how much will you require to replace all that she ruined?”

“Nothing, sir.” Elizabeth kept her eyes on her plate.

“What?” Her father sounded shocked and disbelieving. “Surely, you will want funds to refurbish the room.”

“I do not need to do so,” Elizabeth said lightly. “Lydia does not require the room, and Jones assures me he can repair the damage to the furniture. We have fabric for drapes and a coverlet that can be put on the bed.”

Silence prevailed. She waited for his response with bated breath, certain that he would make some cruel remark.

“I did not believe you had the self control, Mrs. Bennet,” he said scornfully. “It appears even an old dog can learn new tricks.”

It stung. “John Fitzherbert,” she replied, burying her hurt beneath her words. If his remarks made her feel this small, how had her mother felt for so many years? And Elizabeth had laughed along with her father, commenting on her mother’s ridiculousness. I am as bad as he is, she thought miserably.

She happened to glance up. Her father gaped at her in complete shock. Oh, she thought. I cited his little quip. That is not something Mama would do. Well, all the better. He has underestimated his wife for too long! She smiled an unaffected smile and returned her attention to her meal. Perhaps a few more incidents such as this would teach him to appreciate his wife again. Elizabeth was certainly learning to do so. There was much about Mama to admire. And it was no wonder she behaved as she did! Being attacked daily by the man who vowed to love and honor you was no easy thing to bear.