Page 5 of Hidden Desires

ELIZABETH SHOOK HER HEAD in another unsuccessful attempt to erase the thoughts that had kept her awake most of the night.

As if his insult at the assembly were not enough, I had to lie in bed reviewing our entire encounter, and in detail?

Why? Jane said he had gone home, and good riddance to him.

This is her fault. If she had not filled my head with fairy tales about his interest, I might have slept more than an hour or two.

Does she spend her nights dreaming of Mr. Bingley? Without question. What a foolish thought. But just because she is smitten does not mean I must entertain her fantasies. When she comes down for breakfast, I am going to give her a piece of my mind.

The rustle of fabric interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to find Mary standing beside her chair. Her sister shifted her feet and turned her head, as though the maid placing a fresh teapot on the table required her full attention.

Mary crossed her arms and opened her mouth, then closed it again without speaking. She dropped her hands to her sides, then gripped them with such force that the blood drained from her fingers.

Elizabeth poured tea into her cup, then added what she considered the proper amount of cream and sugar and stirred the mixture. She recognized Mary’s anxiety but said nothing, allowing her sister time to work through the hesitation.

“May I trouble you?” Mary asked as Elizabeth took her first sip. Her voice trembled, and she lowered her gaze to the floor. It was an uncharacteristic sign from a woman not given to displays of unease.

“You are no trouble,” Elizabeth said, her curiosity growing. She lowered the cup and turned toward her sister, whose fidgeting had only increased. “What do you need?”

“Forgive me, but I have questions about our visit to Meryton and thought to ask you or Jane. I trust you to answer honestly, even if you are tempted to ridicule me.”

Elizabeth leaned forward and took one of her sister’s hands. “First of all,” she said with a warm smile, “I am never tempted to do that. Why would I? You are far more serious than the rest of us, but in my opinion, that is not a flaw.”

A faint grin curved Mary’s lips, and a sigh escaped her. “If only Lydia and Kitty were more like you.” Her smile faded and her shoulders lifted in a quick shrug. “I might not avoid their company.”

“Lydia takes pleasure in mocking others,” Elizabeth said, waving her hand as if swatting an insect. “Kitty follows her without a thought for the harm she causes or the consequences. I think she is more careless than cruel.”

Mary nodded, though the movement came with hesitation, as if she were unsure whether to agree. Her lips parted, but no response came at once. Elizabeth waited, content to let her sister continue the conversation or bring it to a close.

“We can talk about that later,” she said.

Her eyes dropped to the floor, lingered for a moment, then lifted again to study her sister’s face.

The former smile returned and held. “I would like your opinions on the matter, but the questions I have about yesterday are more pressing, and I believe you have the answers I need.”

“I appreciate your trust,” Elizabeth replied, returning the smile with a nod. “I hope I can help. What is bothering you? Was it something I said or did?”

She paused, as though weighing her thoughts. Just as she opened her mouth, Kitty and Lydia burst into the room, their voices loud with excitement.

“Could we go somewhere else?” she asked, raising her voice above the noise.

“Please do,” Lydia called out, dropping into a chair and sneering. “Hurry, before that frown ruins our mood.”

Elizabeth glared at her youngest sister, her expression sharp enough to chase the smirk from Lydia’s face. She rose from the table and led Mary toward the garden. Outside, she chose a bench away from the house and sat, motioning for Mary to join her.

“This gives us privacy, and relief from Lydia’s poor manners,” she said once they were settled. “Now then, what did you want to talk about?”

“Your anger when we left Meryton,” she answered.

Elizabeth sighed. “Believe me, I was annoyed with them. Their behavior gives the town gossips all they need.”

“I knew you were not angry with me.” She caught the smile that tried to break through. “Lydia’s unseemly flirting with the officers unsettled me. Watching them carry on that way, as if no one could see, was maddening.”

“I agree. Lydia has behaved this way since she was a child. We used to correct her, but she always ran to Mama, who took her side. Now all she talks about is the regiment or the next party she hopes to attend.”

She nodded. Whether the gesture reflected disgust or sympathy, Elizabeth could not tell.

“We stopped trying to persuade her of the value of good manners in town. Mama excuses her behavior, so what is the point?”

Mary shrugged, the motion slight and without energy, as if the futility of past attempts had worn her down.

Her shoulders rose only a little before dropping again, and she kept her gaze fixed on the floor.

“She does the same if I complain about how they treat me. If I say something, Mama defends her,” she said, her voice quiet. “She always does.

“I stopped speaking up because Lydia finds ways to punish me for it. When the torment becomes too much, I come out here to get away from her. The relief is brief, but at least I can breathe. If only Mama would listen and do something.”

“She claims Lydia’s youthful exuberance excuses her disgraceful conduct and believes it will not deter potential suitors.

” A brief frown touched Elizabeth’s mouth but vanished at once.

“To our mother, any marriage is worth celebrating. We have tried to persuade her of the value in a well-considered courtship and a proper wedding, but she cannot be moved unless Lydia is involved.”

“Is marrying a regiment officer not worthwhile?” Mary asked, lifting her brows and tilting her head.

“It is not desirable.” Elizabeth shook her head, her mouth tightening into a grim smile. “They earn an allowance, but not enough to support a wife and children. That may suffice for a landowner, but many are not.”

“Does Lydia know?” Mary’s eyes widened. “Perhaps she limits her pursuit to the wealthy officers.”

“Lydia never lets reality disturb her imagination. She envisions a life of danger and excitement, though nothing of the sort belongs to these local militias. She is determined to marry an officer of superior rank, preferably one who is also handsome. To that end, she goes out of her way to encourage their interest.”

“But she insists she did not do that yesterday,” Mary said, her hands parting the air in agitation. “She claims she did not encourage the attention, and Kitty agreed.”

Elizabeth sighed, choosing her words with care. She did not wish to contradict her sister but hoped she would recall how often Lydia yielded to her impulses.

“In Lydia’s opinion, she did no wrong,” Elizabeth said with a chuckle. “And yes, her lack of interest in the man seemed genuine. But his informality was improper. I assume Lydia approached him first, so he assumed an intimacy she did not intend or perhaps she withdrew.”

Mary shook her head. “But if she changed her mind, he should have accepted her decision and treated her with more respect. Why should his lack of manners affect Lydia?”

“By then, the damage had been done.” Elizabeth lowered her gaze and frowned.

“She should have known better than to sneak off in search of them. Remember, as a Bennet, a good reputation is vital to attracting potential suitors. Papa has little put away as dowries for any of us. If your actions bring disrespect to yourself or your family, it hurts all our marriage prospects. That is why Lydia’s refusal to behave is so distressing.

Please do not follow her example. Take care not to forget yourself in the pleasure of a moment; those observing you will not. ”

Elizabeth turned and began walking back toward the manor.

Mary followed, her steps measured, her gaze fixed on the ground.

They crossed the terrace and entered through the garden door, the hush of the house pressing around them.

In the corridor, neither spoke. When they reached the sitting room, Mary finally raised her head.

“No man would take liberties with me unless I permitted it,” she said.

“I despair of your ever having that opportunity,” Mrs. Bennet said, her gaze fixed on her needlework. “You show no interest in securing anyone’s attention, not even the most dissolute and unappealing suitors in Hertfordshire.”

“I refuse to lower myself to a level unbecoming a woman,” Mary declared.

“Conducting myself as Reverend Fordyce recommends, as Scripture commands, remains my choice. Some may think a bold manner brings admiration, but I believe it invites only ruin. The suitor I accept will honor that decision and rejoice in my purity.”

“Are you encouraging this silly girl?” Mrs. Bennet asked, glaring at Elizabeth before turning back to Mary. “I cannot understand how you hope to capture anyone’s attention if you will not take the time to promote the few qualities you have.”

“Mama!” Elizabeth cried. “What a hurtful thing to say.”

“It is nothing less than the truth,” her mother replied, her gaze drifting from Mary’s shoes to the crown of her head, where her hair sat, drawn into a tight bun.

“She does not dress to attract attention, nor act as though she cares.

At this rate, she will struggle to find even the simplest of men.

She will remain at Longbourn, a burden to her father and me.

“I worry about you too, Elizabeth. Despite your beauty, which could captivate many of the men in Hertfordshire, your stubborn manner pushes them away. Mr. Bennet and I shall support you forever, with no grandchildren to carry on the Bennet name.”