Page 8 of The Lady and the Duke

Chapter3

Lydia’s good friend,Dorothea, was helping her pack the trunk for her journey. She was a petite blonde with naturally curly hair, baby blue eyes, and apertnose.

“What am I going to do without you, dearest sister?” Dorotheaasked.

“I shall write you weekly, and you must write back to me. I want to hear all the news of Piddlehinton. I shall be bereft of news unless you write. My mother and Margaret are useless and boring correspondents, and Emily is far too caught up in her new family life to be of any useatall.”

Dorothea held up a petticoat sadly in need of repair. “Surely you are nottakingthis?”

“Oh, no. Put that away. It must be torn up for rags.” She sighed. “But the rest of my undergarments are not much better. I can see that I am going to spend most of my free time during the next few months mending, as there is no possible way I can afford new petticoats orbloomers.”

Dorothea folded up another petticoat and placed it in the trunk. “What is your Aunt Lavinia like? Do you knowherwell?”

“Not at all. She is my grandmother’s sister on my mother’s side. I have never met her, but she writes my mother regularly and always asks that Mother pass on her best wishes to the three daughters. I have no idea what toexpect.”

“I wish I could go with you. I long for an adventure or two.” Dorothea giggled. “What do you know about the young men of the area? Any prospects ripe for plucking, do you think? Are there any military officers in thatregion?”

“Dorothea, I have no idea and even less interest. Really, in my situation, with no living and no prospects, I will not be able to attract even the most humble farmer or ratcatcher.”

“Oh, Lydia, how unfair. You are a charming and beautiful young lady of breeding, refined manners, and accomplishments. Surely there must be many young gentlemen who could fall madly in lovewithyou.”

Lydia gave her a sour look. “Really, you are too extravagant with your fantasies. I have come to terms with my lot in life and shall endure it with perseverance and a goodhumor.”

There was a knock at the door and Margaret peekedinside.

“What are you two up to?” sheasked.

“Packing my trunk,” Lydiareplied.

“I have just finished all my packing for the wedding. It seems so strange to think that I will not be living hereanymore.”

“Are you excited?” Dorotheaasked.

“It’s all such a whirlwind. I don’t know what I feel, quite honestly.” She came over and sat on the edge of the bed, picking up a novel from Lydia’s side table. “Need any help?” she asked,absently.

It was clear she had no real intention of helping. Lydia speculated that what she really wanted was a goodgossip.

“Will you be staying on in Pulford after the wedding?” Dorotheaasked.

“We will. Charles’s parents have a quite charming cottage on some property down the road from the family home and we shall be setting up house there. His practice is quite close by and I expect he shall be able to come home for dinner at noon each day. It’s been very difficult to be separated, and we look forward to starting up our lifetogether.”

“It sounds delightful,” Dorothea said. “You must be very happy to be marryingsosoon.”

Margaret cast a warning glance at Dorothea and shook her head, indicating they must not speak about such happiness in front of Lydia who had no such happyprospects.

Margaret looked up at Lydia. “Mamma says dinner will be served soon, can you leave yourpacking?”

Lydia nodded, and then turned to Dorothea, “Can you join us? I am sure there will be plenty. I saw quite luscious beets being pulled from the garden this morning. And I heard a chicken squawking her last cries, meaning she’ll be on the tableaswell.”

“Oh, no. I’m expected back home, although it soundsdelightful.”

“I’m off then,” Margaret said, jumping up from the bed. “Now that Lucy is gone, I’m expected to help set out the dinner. Tenminutes?”

Lydia nodded, and Margaret left thebedroom.

Dorothea began to tear up. “I’m going to miss you so very much. Will I see you again before youleave?”

“We head off to Margaret’s wedding the day after tomorrow. And then I’ll be on the post carriage at ten o’clock the morning after that. Maybe you could see me off.” Now Lydia began to cryaswell.