Page 12 of Hidden Desires

MARY KICKED AT THE GRAVEL and shook her fists at the pebbles scattering before her.

If only it was this easy to rid myself of these thoughts.

The stones do not return to torment me, so why do such ruinous temptations come back again and again?

Leave me be, Satan. No matter how often or how hard you press, I refuse to yield to your lies.

There is no happiness in sin, no peace in defiance of the Lord’s commands.

The path ended at a weathered bench beneath the trees.

Mary lowered herself onto it, leaned forward, and buried her face in her hands.

With eyes shut tight, she poured out her heart in silence, pleading for mercy, for strength, for guidance to free her soul from the longings that threatened to undo her.

An hour passed. At last she straightened, her thoughts clearer, her purpose forming. The plan carried risk, but the fight for righteousness never promised ease.

She swept her gaze across the garden and drew in a long breath. The air hung thick with scent, and near the path, buttercups twined through lavender, their yellow petals bright against the purple shrubs. Daisies nodded in the breeze, white-crowned and golden-eyed, as if calling her to notice.

A laugh escaped her throat, strained but real, rising through her teeth and pushing aside the tightness in her chest. It lingered. The sound, the garden, and the light came together to give her strength.

“I know what to do,” she said, rising from the bench. “And Lydia will help, whether she wishes to or not.”

Inside the house, she found no sign of her sisters. Lydia and Kitty were gone, so she turned to the one person who might know where to find them.

“Mrs. Hill,” Mary said, stopping the housekeeper in the front hall. “Have you seen Lydia? I thought she was in her room, but the maid is already at work in there.”

The woman gave a brief shake of her head, her only outward sign of disapproval. “Miss Lydia took Miss Kitty and went to Meryton,” she said, lips drawn tight, as if biting back the opinion she would not offer unasked.

“When did they leave?”

“I cannot say. I do not keep watch over Mr. Bennet’s younger daughters, Miss. I had tasks of my own and did not hear the door. Mr. Hill may have seen them, depending on where he stood at the time. Forgive me, but I have neither time nor interest to spare for Lydia Bennet.”

“No apology is needed. I am the one who troubled you.”

“You are never a bother.”

Mary placed her hand atop the housekeeper’s as it touched her arm.

“I pay as little heed to your younger sisters as possible,” Mrs. Hill continued. “If I did not, I could not keep my thoughts to myself. I care deeply for this family and would not risk my place here.”

“Papa and Mama both depend on you and Mr. Hill more than they admit,” Mary said with a quiet laugh. “But you are wise to remain silent. Lydia causes enough trouble on her own.”

Mrs. Hill nodded once and moved down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

* * *

The morning sun lit the dining room, its warmth steady and soothing as Elizabeth leaned back and sighed, then pushed her empty plate aside.

A maid entered with fresh scones for the sideboard and gathered the used plate and utensils from the table.

“Thank Mrs. Colborne for the meal,” Elizabeth said as the servant turned to leave.

“Yes, Miss Elizabeth,” the girl replied, pausing at the doorway. “She is grateful for your kind words.”

Once the door closed, Elizabeth turned her thoughts to Mr. Darcy’s approaching visit to Netherfield. His arrival stirred her, though not in any way she had expected.

She wished to follow Jane’s example and forget the assembly, but the memory of his pride and condescension lingered like a thorn.

Why must I dwell on his insult? What do I care if he found me only tolerable?

Several men in the county have shown better sense.

He is handsome, yes, but that face cannot redeem his manner.

Papa may find the match appealing, but I see little cause for excitement in spending an afternoon at Netherfield with such company.

Must I sit in silence, waiting for his next slight?

Be still my beating heart. At least I have a few days to prepare a reply or two.

Mary’s entrance brought relief, and she looked up with a smile, surprised when her sister returned it.

“Good morning,” she said as Mary sat beside her. “Where are your sisters? I thought I saw them in the garden earlier, but now they seem to have vanished.”

“They went to Meryton.” Mary took a scone, bit into it, chewed, and swallowed before continuing. “Lydia wants to throw herself at the officers again, and Kitty never refuses.”

“I doubt she needed much convincing,” she said, her hands clenched so tight the nails pressed into her palms. “They ought to be here, not chasing the regiment.”

She rose and walked to the doorway. “I am going to find them and bring Lydia home, whether she agrees or not.”

“Why are you angry?” Mary asked, hurrying after her. “You never seem to mind when the three of us go together.”

Elizabeth glanced at her and laughed, the sound carrying through the empty hall. “When you are with her, Lydia behaves with more restraint. But you chose to stay behind, so who is left to guide her? Not Kitty. She follows without thought, wherever Lydia leads.”

At the entrance to the sitting room, she stopped and turned. “I hope I do not waste the morning searching all over Meryton. If Lydia thinks I have nothing better to do than chase after her, she is mistaken.”

“May I come?” Mary asked, her gaze lowered, her voice unsteady. “I know the places she prefers. If I come, you may not need to search the entire town.”

She did not respond at once, and Mary shifted from foot to foot, her hands opening and closing as though the silence unsettled her.

“That is a good idea,” she said, watching the tension leave her sister’s face. “Get your wrap and hat and wait at the entrance. I will join you after I speak to Mama.”

Mary hurried down the hall, her grin matched by the relief in her eyes. The eagerness seemed out of place, and Elizabeth frowned, unsure what to make of the change. Still puzzled, she turned and went to find her mother.

“Lydia took Kitty to Meryton again,” she said. “Mary and I are going to bring them home. I hope we arrive before Lydia does anything foolish, but if she has, Papa can decide their punishment when he returns.”

Mrs. Bennet looked up from her sewing. “Why not let them enjoy a day in town? Lydia goes to Meryton from sheer boredom. What harm is there in a little amusement?”

Elizabeth paused, choosing her words with care. She could not allow her frustration to dictate the tone of her reply.

“None of us will bring a large dowry, and we have little to recommend us beyond Papa’s reputation. If Lydia continues to damage the family name, how are we to secure respectable matches?”

Mrs. Bennet responded at once, just as Elizabeth had expected.

“Bring those foolish girls home before they ruin every hope of marriage for the rest of you,” she said. “Go now. There is no time to waste.”

Her mother’s panic brought a smile as Elizabeth left the room. Lydia might lack refinement, but she was not the shameless creature town gossips imagined.

“Let us go before Mama decides to come with us,” she said, taking Mary’s hand and pulling her through the doorway.

“Perhaps we should walk faster,” Mary said as they passed through the gate. “We do not have much time.”

“The situation is not so urgent as Mama believes,” Elizabeth said with a quiet laugh. “Lydia is headstrong and reckless, but she knows what Papa expects. She does not always obey, which causes trouble, but I trust we can settle whatever nonsense she has begun before it worsens.”

Mary fell silent, and Elizabeth turned her attention to the flowers lining the road. No matter how often she passed that way, their beauty never failed to strike her.

“Did Jane sleep late this morning?” Mary asked as the rooftops of Meryton came into view. “I did not see her in the carriage with Papa.”

“That was her intention when we went to bed. She planned to remain at home, so Papa left long before she rose. After breakfast, she changed her mind and decided to walk.”

“Our sister visits Mr. Bingley almost every day,” Mary said. “Does Papa not care what the gossips are saying?”

“What is there to talk about? She is always with Papa, and Miss Bingley seldom leaves them alone. According to Jane, her presence is more constant than welcome. Nothing improper is taking place, nor would Jane allow it.”

“Still, would it not seem improper to some? Frequent visits may invite suspicion, and gossips never need proof to begin whispering.”

“Papa understands the risk, especially in a town like this. Many women here thrive on suspicion. They leap at the smallest hint and spread it with great satisfaction. I am content to leave the matter to his judgment. You should do the same.”

They walked in silence, though Elizabeth knew her sister would reflect on the exchange.

“It seemed you enjoyed yourself at Mrs. Phillips’ last week,” she said, seeking a change of topic. “You played games, you spoke with others. That is not what I usually see. What changed? You often sit in a corner with a book and avoid everyone.”

“There was nothing to read,” Mary said. “So, I found a quiet place to stand. One of the officers saw me alone and asked if I would complete a table for whist. I agreed.”

“From what I observed, you enjoyed his company. The two of you played for most of the evening.”

“He asked me to partner with him and offered to teach me the rules. I let him believe I had never played.”

“But you are no novice. You play often with Mama and Jane, and you rarely lose.”

“He wanted to teach me,” Mary said, a small smile forming at the corners of her mouth. “Why correct him? What would I gain by wounding his pride?”