Page 3 of Hidden Desires

ELIZABETH LIFTED HER SKIRT and hurried after Lydia, who was already striding along the center of the street, her steps growing faster. Her gaze darted from side to side in restless pursuit of something or someone. Kitty followed close behind, intent on keeping pace.

“Come back here at once,” she called. “You are not to go wandering off.”

Lydia ignored the call and kept walking. Kitty turned back, but only after grabbing her sister’s arm and pulling her along, despite her protests.

Elizabeth stepped in front of her and gripped her shoulders. “Listen, or you are going home. If this continues, we will all return early, and I will tell Papa everything. Do you want to face his anger again?”

Lydia sighed and shook her head.

Elizabeth nodded. “A wise decision. Try to enjoy yourself, so I can tell Father you caused no trouble when he asks. Please behave, for both of us. Can you manage that?”

“I suppose,” Lydia muttered, twisting to break free.

Elizabeth held her fast. “I meant what I said. You are here to enjoy yourself, not to cause a scene. If you do not listen, I will take you home.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “You cannot order me about, Lizzy. I am no longer a child.”

Elizabeth met her gaze. “Then stop acting like one.”

Lydia glared and shook her head but, at last, nodded. “Fine,” she said, her frown almost comical.

Elizabeth let go and patted her arm. “Thank you. You will enjoy the day more if you cooperate.”

“How can I,” she muttered, turning away, “when you refuse to let me have any fun?”

Kitty hesitated, then added, “She is only trying to keep us out of trouble. You do not know what Papa might do if he learns we misbehaved.”

Lydia clenched her jaw, forcing the blood from her lips. “I promise to follow your stupid rules,” she growled, pushing the words through her teeth. “Heaven forbid you should tell him I enjoyed myself for a minute or two.”

“That is all I ask,” Elizabeth replied, choosing to ignore the petulant insult. If the foolish girl thought childish pouting would earn her freedom, she had not listened to the warning their father issued along with his permission.

“Now,” sh e said with a satisfied smile, “I want to see the latest fashions at the seamstress’s shop, and Jane is interested in the hats at the milliner.”

Having made her point, she crossed the street to view the gowns on display in the window. With Mr. Bennet’s limited funds, she had long ago learned to content herself with looking, rather than breaking her heart with unrealistic dreams.

Lydia’s bad mood dampened their day. As they strolled through the bustling streets, the lively atmosphere failed to lift her spirits, and she met every attempt by Kitty or Elizabeth to engage her in conversation with terse replies and a dismissive attitude.

Her sour mood cast a shadow over what should have been a pleasant experience. Cheery market stalls and the friendly chatter of townsfolk went unnoticed as she trudged along, wearing her discontent like a cloak.

Kitty watched her but refrained from doing anything to provoke further ire. Elizabeth kept them close, watching her moody sister for signs of rebellion.

As they passed a group of musicians, Kitty spoke up, hoping to lift Lydia’s spirits. “May we stop and listen for a moment?”

She said it with a smile, but Lydia only gave a haughty shrug and marched ahead, unmoved by the cheerful music filling the square.

Elizabeth ignored the childish display and continued through the town. Lydia’s behavior hurt only herself, so why interfere?

Merchants and friends filled the afternoon until they arrived at their aunt’s house, where Elizabeth knocked and moved away from the door to avoid the woman’s usual excited greeting.

Mrs. Phillips flung it wide and embraced her first, then followed that with an affectionate hug for each of her sisters.

“Welcome,” she said, stepping aside to allow them entry. “It has been too long since you were last in Meryton. And Mary, I am so glad you came with them. Come in out of the sun. I will prepare some tea and biscuits while you regale me with all the latest gossip. Come in, come in.”

“I am sorry, but we cannot stay,” Elizabeth said, to her aunt’s dismay. “We have to leave for home soon.”

A playful frown claimed her expression. “You are not going anywhere until you promise to return tomorrow evening. We can share a meal, then spend a pleasant evening playing card games and exchanging gossip and innuendo. You won’t believe the stories people are spreading about the assembly.”

Her eyes narrowed, but not before Elizabeth caught their twinkle. She closed the space between them and whispered, although loud enough for all to hear.

“A few of my friends mentioned Jane’s admirer,” said she and winked at her niece, “but all of them are talking about your future suitor, Lizzy.”

Mrs. Phillips laughed then backed a step away from her niece. “We are wondering if you expect his offer before Mr. Bingley decides to propose.”

Elizabeth blushed at the insinuation and, glancing to the side, saw her sister’s countenance taking on a bright crimson hue. The reactions brought an indelicate laugh from Mrs. Phillips and the first sign of amusement from Lydia, whose face twisted in a satisfied smirk.

“We saw how he looked at Jane,” Elizabeth said, lifting her chin. “But Mr. Darcy only insulted me. How did you get from that to marriage?”

Her aunt shook her head and laughed. “That can wait until tomorrow. If I told you everything now, you might choose to stay home, and I intend to see you here.”

She turned to Lydia and took her hands. “Mr. Phillips invited a few officers. Please say you will come.”

Only after Lydia gave her promise did their aunt allow them to take their leave.

“May we return to the seamstress’s window?” Jane asked, her gaze turning toward the shops. “I would love to see those gowns again.”

“Must we?” Lydia asked, nudging at the floor with the toe of her shoe like a child denied her way. “You have already spent an hour staring at them. Kitty and I are tired of hearing you sigh over things you cannot have. If you must go back, can we at least see our friends? We promise to behave.”

“I am sorry, but no.” Elizabeth shook her head, ignoring the dark look in her youngest sister’s eyes.

“I am responsible for you. Though you may think otherwise, you are not yet of an age to wander unchaperoned. You will remain with me until we return home.”

She crossed the road and led them back to the merchants they had visited earlier. At the milliner, she stopped and took Mary’s hand, leading her inside to look again at the bonnets. Pausing at the most elegant display, she asked the merchant for permission to try one on.

When the shopkeeper nodded, Elizabeth lifted the bonnet from its mount and placed it on Mary’s head, then stepped aside to reveal her sister’s reflection in the mirror along the rear wall.

“Please,” Mary said, her voice tight with unease, “put this away. I do not feel comfortable wearing it, even for a moment.” She raised her hands to lift it from her head.

“Wait,” Jane said, catching her arm. “Come and look for yourself. I believe they designed this with you in mind.”

“It is not right,” Mary said, though she followed Elizabeth to the mirror, where she stood for a long moment as though uncertain of the figure before her. She turned to one side, then the other, examining the image from every angle.

Without warning, she tore the bonnet from her head and thrust it into Jane’s hands, then rushed from the shop. Taken by surprise, Jane returned it to the display, thanked the merchant, and followed her sisters outside.

“The scriptures caution against the putting on of airs,” Mary declared once they had caught up to her. “The bonnet is attractive, but I cannot wear it in good conscience. Clothing should not serve to lift one person above another. And besides, my appearance is too plain for such a covering.”

“Nonsense,” Elizabeth said. “You persist in underestimating your value, and that, too, is a transgression.” At the confusion on Mary’s face, she continued,

“Are we not told to avoid false modesty?”

Mary stood in silence before offering a small nod.

“Well, you have hidden your beauty from the world for too long.”

Mary looked at her with suspicion, as though expecting laughter. Instead, she met a steady gaze free of mockery.

“Where are Kitty and Lydia?” Jane asked, glancing toward the shop entrance. “I did not see them leave.”

Elizabeth looked up and down the road, hoping they had stepped outside.

“Lydia used the distraction to slip away,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Kitty followed, as she always does. I only hope we find them before they find trouble.”

She turned and strode down the street, intent on locating them before matters grew worse.

* * *

Lydia led the way toward the regimental encampment, hoping to catch the interest of an officer. In her view, military life offered excitement and danger, both of which were absent from the dull places her father allowed her to enter. Kitty followed, as always, content to trail behind.

“We are free of them at last,” Lydia said. “I thought I would die of boredom. To visit those same shops again was more than I could bear. Do you not agree?”

Kitty said nothing, having learned that Lydia preferred the sound of her own voice to any opinion from others.

At the end of the lane, they turned toward the encampment, drawn by the promise of handsome men and fresh attention.

“There is Mr. Denny.” Lydia pointed at a man walking with another on the far side of the road. “And he is not alone. Come, I want to speak with him. Perhaps he will introduce us to his companion.”

To Lydia, Mr. Denny was the perfect example of a man in uniform: tall, well-formed, and pleasing to the eye, with a manner that invited admiration and stirred a young woman’s heart. Finding him away from camp struck her as a fortunate turn. He might now present them to his friend.