Page 62 of The Shades of Pemberley

That thought engendered the amusing notion that Anthony would do for a husband, for he was all those things.

Anthony did not possess untold riches as his father or even Darcy did, but his future was secure, though he was not aware of the extent of it.

Susan also knew that Anthony admired Elizabeth, and as Lydia was like her in looks, though far livelier, she wondered if he might come to appreciate the girl when she attained a little more maturity.

However that came about, Susan did not mean to focus on it for the moment.

As Lydia had already made noise about how bored she was and her wish for company more to her liking, Susan did not think she would remain at her house for long.

Thus, she needed to take what opportunity she had to mold the girl into a proper young lady—or perhaps whatever facsimile of it the girl could attain.

“You consider it a burden to be the youngest child?” asked Susan when the girl fell into moody silence.

Lydia Bennet regarded her, perhaps prevented from an outburst because of the memory of with whom she was speaking. “Is it not?” complained the girl. “While all my sisters are out dancing the night away, I must wait at home with lessons and other tedious activities.”

The girl paused, and her lip curled. “Then again, I suppose Mary does not dance, for she considers it a sin, no doubt.”

It was another part of the girl’s character that Susan thought needed correcting.

Mary was not the belle of the ball like most of her sisters could be, but she was not deficient either.

When Lydia’s irritation overcame her good sense, the target of her ill humor was most often Mary, though the girl attempted to ignore her.

It would benefit Lydia to refrain from such ill-judged attacks, but Susan knew there were other things to attend to before advising her on the subject.

“Tell me, Lydia, at what age did your sisters come out?”

From the girl’s reaction, Susan knew others had made the point to her before, though she did not appreciate it. “Seventeen,” was the girl’s surly reply. “But they did not need to wait and watch while others had fun.”

“Oh?” asked Susan. “Was Elizabeth not fifteen when her sister came out? What of your sisters, Mary and Kitty?”

Lydia opened her mouth, no doubt to offer some further opinion about Mary, but Susan fixed her with a pointed glare, and the girl subsided. While she did, it was not without irritability.

“Perhaps they did. But none of them waited while all their sisters entered society, leaving them alone.”

“What of Kitty?” asked Susan. “Has she come out into society yet?”

“Kitty started attending last year when she turned seventeen.”

“Which you shall do when you turn seventeen, at least in the society in which your parents live. As you know, girls in London do not come out until they are eighteen, which means Kitty will not come out until next year.”

The girl scowled at the notion, but she did not speak, allowing Susan to further educate her.

“Were I to guess, I suspect Kitty will not come out next year either, though when she is at home, she will attend.”

To Lydia, it appeared the thought of any delay at all was incomprehensible. “Not come out next year? Why would Kitty wish to wait?”

“Because, Lydia, Georgiana will only be seventeen next year. Beyond their growing friendship, I suspect Kitty will be far more comfortable coming out into society with a friend than attempting to move in society herself.”

Lydia had never considered this possibility, though Susan saw a hint of longing in the girl, confirming her suspicion that Lydia would be happier in the company of the girls her age.

While Susan recalled the initial decision that had led to Kitty and Georgiana making each other’s acquaintance and the decision to move them to her house together, it was, she thought in hindsight, a little misguided.

Had Lydia come to Matlock house with the elder girls, she would not have felt left out, and her comportment would already be improved.

“Kitty will still come out a year before I do,” muttered Lydia.

“Yes, I suppose she will,” agreed Susan. “That does not mean you need to look on that time as a prison sentence.”

Lydia regarded Susan with suspicion, as if she already expected that she would not like what she would say next. In the end, her curiosity led her to ask after Susan’s meaning, which she was not hesitant to give.

“First, let me ask you a question. Would you prefer to be in Kitty and Georgiana’s company? Do not concern yourself with offending me—tell me the truth.”

By the girl’s reaction, Susan knew she had understood her well. “It would be agreeable to be with those my age.”

It was a careful response despite Susan’s admonition, one that brought her much amusement. “That is understandable. Mary is the only member of the party at my house who is close to your age, and you are very different people.”

“That we are,” was all Lydia said on the subject. Perhaps the girl was not incapable of some measure of discretion.

“It is not impossible,” said Lady Susan. “I am certain the girls would welcome your society should you move to Darcy’s house. Before that, however, let us speak of your situation and agree on certain matters.”

As Susan might have expected, Lydia’s face fell in anticipation of hearing what she would not like. It was not an unwarranted supposition, though Susan meant to take a different tack than she thought others had used in the past.

“My advice to you, Lydia, is to forget your offense and learn to be content with what you have.”

The girl’s expression reeked of suspicion. “What do you mean?”

“Only that your wish of balls and parties will not be realized until you are at least seventeen, and that only in Meryton, Lambton, or if you stay with your other sisters after they marry. In London, it will not come until you are eighteen.”

Lydia glowered at the notion, but Susan did not take any notice.

“I shall not bore you with a recitation of maturity or any of the other things your parents or sisters have told you. The inescapable truth is that you are not yet of age, so you will not take part in society; the sooner you accept that, the happier you will be.

“Yet I would not have you believe that all is dreary studying and watching your elders participate in society. A young girl not yet out may still have her share of fun in activities that will help prepare her for her debut.”

“Anything would be preferable to endless lessons,” said the girl, something of her irascibility fading away.

“Yes, I cannot but suppose you are correct. You will not have the balls and parties you crave, but outings to the various attractions in London, such as the menagerie, Kew Gardens, Hyde Park, the Royal Academy, and even the theatre, are acceptable.”

“Those things are all more to Lizzy’s taste,” said Lydia, though Susan noted her interest. The trick would be to learn which activities would stimulate her enough to turn her attention away from those things she could not yet have.

“Perhaps they are, but I do not think you are averse to them.”

“Should they be all I can expect, I am not opposed.”

Even then, the girl was not yet willing to release her grievances, diverting Susan all over again.

“Then let us plan some activities you will enjoy. As I suggested, you may remove to Darcy’s house if you wish, but if you are amenable, I would like to keep your company for a short time. Let us come to know each other better.”

For the first time in their brief acquaintance, Susan saw a measure of acceptance and even a hint of shyness in the girl’s response. It was a start, one that Susan thought they could all nurture to bring genuine change.

“I KNOW NOT WHAT YOU have done with Lydia,” said Elizabeth. “I have never seen her this restrained.”

In Darcy’s opinion, Lady Susan showed a full measure of smugness at Elizabeth’s comment. “She is not unreachable, Elizabeth. One simply must understand how to speak to her to induce her to listen.”

The girl of whom they were speaking was sitting with Kitty and Georgiana, eager and relieved all at once to be in their company.

It was less than a week after the girls had moved to Darcy’s house, and now Lydia was to live with them.

Elizabeth had told Darcy of Lady Susan’s prediction of Lydia’s wish to remove to his house, but he had not thought it would happen with this speed.

“Then you have uncovered the key no one else could.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Lydia has never been beyond redemption, but there has always been an air of wildness about her that no counsel, rebuke, or demand could drive away. At the moment, she seems almost happy.”

“I only pointed out to her the hopelessness of her situation and directed her to other interests. Do not suppose you may allow her to exist in Georgiana and Kitty’s company without additional stimulation, for I have made certain promises of amusements that she will wish to explore.”

Darcy regarded Lady Susan with interest. “And what might those be?”

“The girl was interested in thoughts of the menagerie and allowed the notion of the theatre being a fine entertainment for an evening, though that took a bit of convincing on my part. Kew Gardens might entertain her for an afternoon, but she was not at all interested in museums and the like. You may attempt that last, but I would not try to do such activities often.”

“Then we shall be pleased to oblige her,” said Elizabeth, her sly look at Darcy predicting some witticism. “After all, such activities will lessen our need to participate in other occupations my husband would prefer to avoid.”

“Yes, that would limit our involvement in balls and the like,” said Darcy, projecting an exaggerated air of smugness, much to the ladies’ enjoyment.

“Then I shall leave you to it. Hosting Lydia has been a pleasure, but I believe she will be happier with you.”