Page 27 of Reckless, Headstrong Girl (Pride and Prejudice Variations #5)

They were forced to forego conversation as the path became steeper and they reached the summit with breathless relief.

There, lying in quiet, late afternoon repose all around them were the endless fields and scattered farmhouses of their home.

Lydia looked keenly at everything, delighting in the recognition of Ross Farms, the Bakers’ piggery, and the scrubby little riparian rope where the stream flowed so casually towards the River Ver.

She was struck with how little she knew of where she lived and of the county and even of the wider world in general, and again the sense that she did not belong rose up faintly inside to plague her .

“Will Jane live at Netherfield then?” she asked, seeking to relieve herself of gloomy feelings.

“For now, until they find another estate to buy. Poor Jane.” Elizabeth frowned. “Mama has not yet turned her sights on the remote management of her daughter’s home, but she will just as soon as the wedding breakfast has been cleared away.”

“But you will be at Pemberley, and Mama will not have the means to set your cook’s menus.”

“I shall be forced to muddle along, I suppose.”

“Are you not worried?”

“Worried? About what, dearest?”

“About…about Mr Darcy.”

“Mr Darcy? Do you think he will beat me?” Lizzy laughed.

“No, no. Only, well?—”

“Only, well what?”

“When you are alone. At night.”

“That is a curious question,” Elizabeth said in a low, reluctant voice.

“I did not know anything about husbands, and, well…you know. And Carver and Dotty and everybody, really, felt honour bound to rectify my ignorance since I had eloped like an ignoramus, not knowing what Wickham wanted of me. And to be honest, Lizzy, I was pretty put off by the whole notion!”

Elizabeth was certainly reluctant, but she was not a lady to run away from such a conversation like a prude.

They were in complete privacy, after all, on their hill deep in the Hertford countryside.

“I do not know what to expect, Lydia, and I do not know what you were told. I have heard such differing accounts of the business from Mama and Aunt Gardiner and, I shudder to say, even our aunt Philips. Charlotte hinted to me that it was something to be gotten through, and yet when I am with Mr Darcy, I cannot believe it will be at all unpleasant. So, to be honest, Lydia, perhaps you should withhold judgment until you fall in love in earnest with a man who kisses you, an experience the very opposite of unpleasant.”

“Well,” Lydia said, putting her chin on her knees, “I doubt very much I shall ever marry, but if I do, I shall not agree to any proposals without first having kissed the man. Wickham kissed me, and I did not find it anything but an irritant.”

“That is a dilemma, I am afraid. You can hardly go around kissing various men to see whether you will let one of them court you. But if it helps, I will say that, for some time, I secretly wished Mr Darcy would kiss me, and when he did, I was quite swept away. Really, Lydia, you are just fifteen years old. Perhaps you should wait until you are one and twenty before you think of marrying anyone.”

This was a comfortable thought. But there was a catch. “Mama will push me at every man in breeches,” she said disconsolately.

After a brief silence her sister chuckled and said, “And when in your life, Lydia Bennet, have you bent to anyone’s will, save your own?

You have slept in a potato cart, emptied the slops for a dozen women, and run through a barley field to escape a pair of ruffians—not because you were made to but because you have a will to prevail!

Can you picture Kitty doing half of anything you have done?

I cannot imagine you shall now be meek and say, ‘Yes, Mama,’ to everything she demands of you. ”

“I had been thinking how horridly wilful and selfish I am, but you have made me sound pretty stout-hearted just now.”

“Because all your childish fits were setting you up to learn to be stout-hearted! You can still be wilful, you know, but you can decide to serve something better than your vanity and a craving for beaus. When you are very old, you will be a veritable dragon, and no one will dare to cross you. And if you put your mind to it now, you can begin to use your headstrong nature to do some good in the world and thereby earn your future reputation as a formidable lady.”

“And I shall have had an adventure, Lizzy.”

“Yes! You have had a marvellous adventure, and what a lioness you have proven yourself to be.” She stood and helped Lydia to her feet.

While they brushed the dirt from their skirts, she asked, “So, what would you like to do with your time between now and the day some poor man falls hopelessly in love with you?”

“You will laugh at me.”

“I doubt it. What would you like to do?”

“I would like an education, Lizzy.”

“Would you? How marvellous! I imagine Mr Darcy would be delighted to provide such a thing for you. But I sense that is not all you want, is it?”

“I would like to do something for Mr Parch.”

“Certainly. But you see, you are not the only one to wish to do something for him. Papa and Uncle Gardiner have sent him a little something.”

“A purse of money?” Lydia exclaimed with a laugh.

“I would imagine so, dearest.”

They walked down the hill in silence, and Elizabeth suspected the list of Lydia’s wishes was not yet fully disclosed. “You may as well tell me what it is you truly want,” she said gently, “for I shall have it out of you sooner than later.”

“I wish to do something for my friends at the Methodist House.”

“That is the most natural wish in the world. Might we not make up shawls and knit slippers and the like?”

“Yes! That would make me very happy. Only…”

“Yes?”

“I would like to somehow get Sally Watkins out of that dismal place. Of all my friends, she is the least equipped for such a life.”

“She sounds a gentle soul.” Then, after a moment’s reflection, she said, “If you would come to Pemberley where we can properly provide for your education, you will need a lady’s maid, will you not?”

After stifling a sob, Lydia asked in a small, bewildered voice, “You would have me, Lizzy? You would do that for me? ”

“You will have a very hard time getting away from me, now that we have found you. But perhaps you would rather go with Jane?”

“No no. I would like Pemberley very much. And if I had Sally with me, I would feel more comfortable. Mr Darcy’s house is very grand, is it not?”

“A little…” Elizabeth said vaguely. “But you will be comfortable there in no time, I promise. Besides, we shall have you slumped over your studies day and night in poor light, and you will soon feel as ill-used as you were in Horsham.”

This caused Lydia to wipe her eyes, break into laughter, and clasp her sister’s hand as they proceeded gaily down the path towards Longbourn.

And Elizabeth, who had never felt more tenderly towards her youngest sister, said, “When we get home, we shall find some dresses that make you feel neither the harlot nor the pauper. What about my blue dress? We should make it over for you…”