Page 9 of Lord Lonbourn’s Daughter

“You must close your ears to the hubbub, Mr Darcy,” the earl urged him, but he had not the older man’s selective hearing. He could not concentrate his attention on his book amid the incessant chattering, and his head was ready to explode by the time they reached Ramsgate.

He immediately set out for a walk along the beach; the wind blowing in from the sea was a blessing on the warm summer evening.

His initial impulse was to turn tail and escape back to London with Georgiana.

On second thoughts, he realised that the motherless Longbourn girls deserved to learn proper comportment.

They had suffered the greatest loss at the most crucial moment in their lives.

Thank goodness for Mrs Younge, a capable woman he had hired from Miss Hewlett’s ladies’ seminary.

It was she who had written him a letter, revealing how unhappy Georgiana was at the school, friendless and alone in her spare time.

He had not hesitated to bring her home and offer the position of her companion to Mrs Younge.

Georgiana trusted her with her secrets, and she was not someone who easily confided her feelings.

If he were to help his sister to navigate the intricacies of the beau monde , she needed a confidante who was surefooted in society.

Mrs Younge had once been presented herself and had married the second son of a friend of his father’s.

The family was well known to him, and George Darcy had even attended Mr Younge’s funeral.

He could trust Mrs Younge; she would notify him if the situation became untenable.

Darcy and the Earl of Longbourn stayed for four days at the seaside resort, leaving an extensive list of rules and requirements with the governess and companion before their departure.

The Season at Ramsgate did not commence in earnest until August. It was not deserted but it was mostly families with small children, not the beau monde and their penchant for balls and parties, who inhabited the beaches.

Besides, Georgiana had warmed to the Longbourn girls, Lady Kitty in particular, as they shared a common passion for watercolours—a worthy pursuit in Darcy’s mind.

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“Elizabeth, dear, will you not tell me what is troubling you?” Lady Matlock implored.

“I would if I knew myself, but there really is nothing the matter with me. I am just a little homesick, I suppose. For Longbourn and the tranquillity there. I miss walking in the woods and through the pastures. I grow restless when I cannot take any exercise more vigorous than a stroll in the park.”

“We could go for a ride.”

“Yes, that sounds lovely, your ladyship,” Elizabeth replied.

“Annabella, would you like to join us?” Lady Matlock enquired of her daughter-in-law.

“Yes, thank you, a ride sounds refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude,” the viscountess agreed.

It was too late in the day to be strictly fashionable, which meant that the paths were less populated—a blessing to Elizabeth’s mind. She had not known before she travelled to London, sociable creature that she was, that she would crave solitude just as much.

Lady Matlock and Jane rode ahead; Elizabeth and Lady Crawford followed behind.

“Is that Mr Bingley?” the viscountess enquired.

Elizabeth looked in the direction the lady indicated, but the gentleman was too far away to be sure.

“I cannot be certain, but I rather think not,” Elizabeth replied.

“Is he out of town? He has not come to see Jane since you came to stay with us.”

“Oh, I would not expect him to. They are not engaged,” Elizabeth clarified.

“I beg your pardon for my forwardness. I should not have made a supposition,” the viscountess demurred.

“There is no need to apologise. They do seem to like each other very much, but they do not know each other that well. Their acquaintance has been of short duration,” Elizabeth explained.

“Yes, one should not rush such important matters and must choose wisely with attention to more than just what is prudent,” Lady Crawford agreed.

“My thoughts exactly!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

“I believe my family holds some hope that another particularly dear gentleman might catch her interest.”

Elizabeth had no idea whom the viscountess was speaking about. After Mr Bingley had made his intentions known and Jane had showed a marked preference for the aforementioned gentleman, her plethora of suitors had withdrawn respectfully.

“Why, I have not—” Elizabeth began before she was interrupted.

“Did they dance at your ball? I am grieved I missed it. You know I was quite distraught when the flood prevented us from returning in time for the much-anticipated event.”

“I am sure I do not know whom you mean, but Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy both danced with my sister.” Those were the only gentlemen she assumed Lady Crawford would address as dear, and a change of topic would not go amiss.

“We had a bit of trouble at the end, as you have probably heard. It is so kind of you not to mention it, but I am quite over it, although it was a horrible experience at the time.”

Lady Crawford nodded in acquiescence.

The ladies returned home much refreshed and were surprised to receive the first letter from Lydia.

Her father must have left her with generous funds because the letter arrived by an express rider.

It took a moment before Elizabeth’s mind registered that she might have sent the letter express because she had a good reason to.

“Heaven forfend! What could be the matter? Something must be amiss for Lydia to have written. She is not much fond of sitting down doing anything, but correspondence is particularly distasteful to her. Yet, to bear the expense of having it delivered by express! Give it to me, Mary. I shall read it aloud. You always speak so quietly it is impossible to hear.”

Elizabeth nearly ripped the page out of Mary’s hand. She had to know what was wrong.

“Were you not supposed to read it aloud?” Mary complained.

Elizabeth’s eyes flew over the letters, yet no words came from her lips. The next sound she made was a low rumbling chuckle.

“Can you guess what Lydia deems so important that it justifies the expense of sending it express?”

“No! Please, Lizzy. I cannot bear the suspense.”

“I am sorry, Jane, for prolonging your discomfort, but this is just too ridiculous. Officers! Can you imagine?”

“I am not sure I follow you,” Jane admitted.

“That ninny has sent a letter by express to tell us there are officers in Ramsgate. Naval officers and regulars. What a scoop! Does she not understand that we would worry that there might be something terribly wrong when an express rider arrived unannounced on our doorstep?”

Elizabeth threw down the pages.

“Yes, they are generally unannounced,” Mary drawled. “But Lydia has never been sensible. I do not understand why you would expect her to begin now that she has managed her ultimate goal of being launched into society. Even if it is with an army of chaperons and in a small seaside resort.”