Page 49

M rs. Hodges wants you downstairs directly,” Mr. Durston said.

Lydia thought back over the past few days and could not think of anything that she had done wrong. “Downstairs – where?” she asked.

“The drawing room; the Countess of Matlock is with her.”

“She wants me in the drawing room?” Lydia was astonished. “Doubtless something needs to be cleaned; should I bring anything?”

“She did not say so. Hurry, girl! You are wasting everyone’s time!”

Lydia straightened her skirts and checked that her hair was under her cap before making her way down the servant’s staircase and into the drawing room.

There she found Mrs. Hodges, who was frowning mightily; Lady Greenfield, who was looking puzzled; and the older woman she had seen in the ladies’ retiring room at the ball, who was evidently the Countess of Matlock.

She could not begin to imagine why she had been summoned, but she kept her eyes down as she curtsied to the group.

“It is Lydia, is it not?” the Countess asked.

“Yes, my lady. Lydia Lucas.” Her voice shook.

“I think not; I think it is Lydia Bennet.” The older woman spoke with great certainty.

“I am Lydia Lucas now,” she said, her voice shaking. How had she been discovered? “I trust I have given satisfaction in my work, Mrs. Hudson?”

The Countess went on. “Miss Lydia, I shall speak with you privately. Lady Greenfield, if you would grant us the use of the drawing room for a brief period?”

“Of course, my lady,” Lady Greenfield replied at once. “Anything you need.”

What was this countess doing here, and how had she known how to find her? Why would she even care? But, in any case, Lydia realised that she had been discovered, and she and her sisters were ruined.

When it was just the two of them in the room, the lady said, “Please sit, Miss Lydia.”

Lydia sat, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

“Are you aware that a good many men have been searching for you since you – well, since you vanished with Mr. Wickham?” The Countess’ voice was cold.

Lydia gaped at her. “But – why?”

“Why? Why? Because your disappearance has caused an enormous problem for your family, silly girl!” the Countess hissed at her. “You are not married, you are not dead, what is your family to tell the neighbours?”

“They know I eloped and did not return with a husband, so I know my family is ruined, and I know it is my fault, so you need not remind me of it!” Lydia’s eyes swam with tears. Then she remembered to whom she was speaking, and added a rather tardy, “My lady.”

“I believe that no one except your close family knows of the elopement,” she said. “They just need you to return home and all will be well.”

“But surely Mama told everyone – ?” Lydia was very confused. “She has never kept a secret in her life, and she certainly would have wanted to talk about it to everyone who would listen!”

The Countess’ tone altered at once, and she now spoke very gently. “Miss Lydia, I am sorry to have to be the one to tell you…” she hesitated. Was there a good way to convey such news?

“Tell me what?”

“Your mother has passed away,” the Countess said.

“Passed away?” Lydia repeated, blankly. “Because of me?”

“No, no, it is not at all certain that the events are related,” the Countess said quickly, as tears began to pour from Lydia’s wide and terrified eyes.

“But she is – she is truly dead?” the girl stammered.

“She is, I am sorry to say; but she died before anyone other than your immediate family knew of your actions,” the Countess said, trying to keep her tone kind.

Lydia could only stare at the woman before her. Her thoughts had started whirling and then had stopped entirely. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

“You are in shock,” the Countess said. “I must take you out of here.” She rose and left the room in search of Lady Greenfield.

After providing a quick and entirely false history of how a well-born young lady came to serve as a maid, she informed Lady Greenfield that she planned to reunite the young lady with her family at once.

“Of course, of course,” Lady Greenfield said immediately.

“Certainly she cannot be a maid here any longer. She told us she was an orphan, you understand, I had no idea – but now I understand how it was that she was able to teach my daughter to dance! I will send someone to gather her things. Lydia shares a room with Edith; she will know what to pack.”

Fifteen minutes later, Lydia, her eyes still glazed over, left Greenfield house with her small satchel clutched to her chest. The wind was chill and she had no cloak, but she was too dazed too notice.