Page 5 of Expectations (Obstinate, Headstrong Girl #7)

CHAPTER FOUR

CALLING THE CALVARY

“ L ydia, I need your help.”

Lydia Philips raised her brows. “What is this? The ever capable, always responsible, sagacious, and all-knowing Elizabeth Bennet has come to her capricious baby sister for aid?”

The two were sitting before a fire in Lydia’s pretty sitting room in her cosy home in Meryton, where Elizabeth had fled as soon as Mr Darcy was out of sight, Cassandra’s innumerable questions only somewhat allayed.

“Your sarcasm is unappreciated, although expected,” Elizabeth said with a sigh.

Lydia grinned. “Would this help have anything to do with one Mr Darcy’s efforts to locate you this morning?

He was asking after you at The George, I heard—he did not realise that Netherfield was closed.

Everyone is simply dying to know what he wanted.

I sold that ugly green woollen rug Andrew brought back from town last week to Mrs Long—she would have it, simply because I told her Mr Darcy admired it.

” Her grin changed to laughter. “As if Mr Darcy decided to browse the shops in Meryton before returning to town. She is such an idiot.”

I should have known Lydia would hear all there is to hear. “I thought you no longer worked in the shop?”

“I think I will always work in the shop. We leave most of the handling of filthy lucre to Mrs Edwin and Mr Terry, yes, but I am an artist, and the shop is my canvas. Andrew’s purchases from the Hargreaves auction arrived yesterday, and I just happened to be arranging some of it when Mrs Long came in, looking for gossip. I sold it to her.”

“What did you tell her?” asked Elizabeth, half-horrified, half-fascinated—her usual emotions when dealing with Lydia.

She had eloped with Andrew Philips, Uncle Philips’s nephew, at the tender age of seventeen, much to the entire family’s dismay.

Contrary to the expectations of the neighbourhood, they had not immediately produced any children of their own.

Andrew was clever at bargaining, however, and Lydia, as it turned out, had excellent taste.

They had made the most of their combined talents, opening the very successful Philips’s Curiosities and Collectibles, and were even talking of opening another shop in Bishop’s Stortford, a prosperous market town from which Andrew hailed.

“I told her that Bingley had left a trunkful of belongings at one of his houses which he was returning to the family, in case Tommy wanted to wear his old, stained smallclothes someday.”

“You did not.”

“Why not?” she shrugged, unrepentant. “I cannot think of anyone more deserving such a tit-bit than Matilda Long.”

“Bingley’s will was found,” Elizabeth said without further preamble. “He left Tommy to Mr Darcy. Not Cassandra—it does not, apparently, mention his daughter. Just some horse, and Tommy.”

Lydia paused with a biscuit halfway to her mouth, and then set it down again. “Oh, my. This is something.”

“He returns on Friday. I have until then to think of a way to thwart him.”

Lydia considered her gravely. “Are you certain you should?”

“Not you, too, Lydia. If I wanted that kind of advice, I would have gone to Papa.”

“I have never agreed that the twins ought to be foisted on that harpy, Caroline Bingley Plumpton, nor the Hursts either. Still, what is there for him here? Shall I train him up to clerk for me?”

“You and your husband are on your way to true prosperity. I was wrong, very wrong in my initial expectations for the success of your marriage, and so I have admitted to you before this.”

Her sister waved off this observation. “I am happy with my lowly life in trade, but is it what you want for Tommy?”

“I hoped Uncle Gardiner might take him on. I have no expectations of anything higher, I assure you.”

“Uncle Gardiner has two sons of his own. Are you certain that Mr Darcy can offer Tommy nothing? I hear he has never married. If he adopted him, Tommy might become the master of a grand property.”

Elizabeth could not stay seated calmly while discussing this, and stood so she could pace. “Does that not strike you as odd? He is in his thirties, a man of great wealth, and yet, no wife, no children.”

“You believe he is a sodomite?”

“No!” Elizabeth could not prevent her blush, but Lydia remained nonchalant.

“Do you believe Tommy would be in danger from him, with him? Is he cruel?”

“How would I know?”

“I am not asking what you know ,” Lydia continued, somewhat impatiently now. “I am asking what you believe . Why do you object to Mr Darcy so vehemently?”

Elizabeth thought of Charlotte. In the end, Mr Darcy had provided for her, and she was now married and living in Oxford, happily it was to be presumed, although she had not heard from her old friend in some years.

Charlotte had never accused Mr Darcy of cruelty, had never even blamed him for his abandonment.

That did not mean he was an appropriate guardian for a vulnerable child.

“I have reason to distrust our sister Mary’s absolute confidence in his character.”

“We all have reason to distrust some of Mary’s absolutes. I repeat, do you think Mr Darcy is a danger to Tommy?”

“I cannot say for certain,” Elizabeth said at last. “I do not like him. I am not sure it goes so far as danger, but he is not… good .”

Lydia nodded thoughtfully. “Andrew has a friend, one who looks into these sorts of matters for people who must trust, financially, those of high repute. I shall ask him to have his friend see what he can discover. He will not have answers by Friday, however.”

“I appreciate it, truly. But Lydia…I cannot let him separate the twins.” Better than anyone else, Elizabeth understood they had a dependence upon each other, a sort of connexion that went beyond that of mere siblings. Both would be devastated.

“I do not know how you mean to prevent it, or what I can do to help you stop it.”

“If I cannot think of a way, a means…will you loan me enough to leave? I thought perhaps we could stay with the Gardiners for a time. Our uncle might have ideas.” One thing was certain: Mr Gardiner understood all of her reasons for distrust.

Lydia sighed. “I am not Papa. I do not agree with chucking those children at their awful relations. Neither am I, any longer, much like Mama, believing you must have a husband in order to achieve contentment. However, Bingley was a pig, and Jane was his dupe. You are not as stupid as she was, but neither have you been happy for some years now. You need help. Make your bid for more time, but you do not have the means to raise those children by yourself. Andrew and I are going to move forward with opening the new store, and it will require all our capital and more of our time. Eventually, we might be in a position to help with them, but it will be some while before we are.”

“I did not ask you to.”

“I know. But please remember—you are the responsible, wise sister. I am the reckless, impulsive one. I know you love Cassandra and Tommy with all your heart. You also love them enough to put their needs before your own, and have been doing it for several years now. You must continue to do it, even if it hurts, if it is best for Tommy.”

“Easy for you to say,” Elizabeth replied bitterly.

“Yes,” Lydia agreed. “But not as easy to watch you doing it as you might think.”