Chapter 32

After the drama during the first week of April, the rest of the month was much calmer. The Hursts left on the Saturday following the confrontation with the Bingleys sneaking out of town in the pre-dawn gloom of the Monday morning. With the scorned parties gone the vitriol and glee with which the rumours were spread started to abate. By the end of the month it was old news, although everyone was ready to pounce should a Bingley be spotted.

Elizabeth spent many hours with both Lady Maria and Lady Susan discussing her new position. Miss Darcy was a silent participant as there were many lessons that Elizabeth needed to learn, and this was an ideal opportunity for Georgiana to understand some of the hidden requirements of the mistress of an estate. By far the biggest issue was the number of additional gowns required.

“Elizabeth, you are an intelligent woman, and you are coming dangerously close to pouting.”

Lady Maria’s smile took the sting from her words but they had the intended salutary effect.

“Both Susan and I have assisted many times in gathering a trousseau, in my case including my brother’s now wife. You know that neither of us are slaves to the current fashion but do know the importance of presenting ourselves well. You are not going to be titled but you will be the preeminent lady of the district as well as an important member of the Ton. There are expectations of Mrs. Darcy that you cannot ignore, it would reflect badly on your husband.”

“Thank you for that dousing in a cold pond. You are right, however much it pains me to admit it. The expense, in my mind, is unnecessary and bordering on frivolous. I am incredibly grateful to you both for investing time in assisting me with this task. I will not argue with regard to numbers of gowns and other apparel, but I do have a style I prefer. Please do not think I will accept being festooned in lace, I will rebel.”

After that things went reasonably smoothly, with Elizabeth allowing her austere style to be modestly adorned. The fabrics were rich and bold but the styles were subtle. There was one interesting development.

“Lizzie, can I talk to you please?”

“Of course Georgie, is there something the matter?”

Georgiana Darcy hummed and hawed before admitting her concern.

“I am worried that you think me frivolous.”

“Why would I think that?”

“I much prefer gowns that have more adornment. You prefer a quieter style, it seems more sensible.”

Elizabeth chuckled and assured Georgiana she was not laughing at her.

“Every woman is different. You have not yet been out in society, at evening events. There is no one style, there are many gowns that are similar, but every lady there wants to stand out. I favour the quality of the fabric over excessive adornment but every lady wants to be distinct. That is the mark of the most successful modistes. You have just turned 16 and have at least two more years before you enter society. We will be in London for parts of the season and you will continue to gain experience in the ways of the Ton. Lady Susan has talked to you about attending events before you officially come out but only being able to dance with family members. These are exactly the kind of events where you can observe what all the other ladies are wearing. If you see a dress that catches your eye then it will be easy to find out the name of the modiste.

“I have my style but it does not, and will not, suit you. You will develop your own style. Even something as simple as changes in your figure will amend that. What may suit you now may not work in two or three years’ time.”

Georgiana flushed at the reference to her changing figure but was acutely aware of what Elizabeth was talking about. There had been many new dresses and gowns that very season as her old ones no longer fitted across her bust.

“Wanting a more expressive style is not being frivolous, it is the way that you present yourself to society. If you are happy with your appearance then you will be more confident. Your Aunt Susan and I will be there to assist you. We will guide but not demand.”

Elizabeth was engulfed in a grateful hug.

--

“Are you being careful around me?”

Elizabeth’s question stopped Darcy in his tracks. They had been walking in Hyde Park, at their usual early hour.

“Why would you ask that? Do you think that I am?”

“No William, I do not think anything of the sort. I was thinking about our relationship and confess to being slightly worried it is going too well.”

Too well? Darcy was confused, this hardly seemed to be a problem.

“I do not see that as a worry yet you are concerned. Why?”

“We spent two months courting, without either of us being aware of the fact. You proposed on the spur of the moment in front of your family. And we have met close to every day over the last month. In all that time, we have barely had a disagreement. I always thought Jane was the placid sister yet I find that it could apply to me as well.”

“You think I am holding back so that we do not fight?”

Elizabeth sheepishly nodded.

“Have you been doing so?”

She shook her head.

“That is what spurred me to ask the question. Is there such a thing as too perfect?”

Darcy laughed and patted Elizabeth’s hand on his arm. His smile and action let her know that he was laughing at the situation not her.

“Think back to the very first night that we met, even although we were not introduced. I was atrociously rude to your sister and you, very rightly, gave me the cold shoulder at other events for several weeks afterwards. But during the time you were nursing your sister and especially at the ball, we were able to converse without any problem. At the ball, we talked during the set we were to dance and again at supper. Despite my gaffe at the beginning of our relationship there was always been a connection. Think about how easy it was to slip into a comfortable, familiar manner whenever we met. The two of us were blind to what everyone else could see as plain as day. Is it a surprise that we complement each other so well?

“On the ride to the Assembly at Meryton I did not know what I wanted in a wife. But I did know what I did not want, the lady with her claws on my arm being a representative example. I discovered I wanted an intelligent wife, not schooled in the ways of the Ton, but passionate about the world about her. Previously I had found dealing with ladies at social events to be a chore, awkward and borderline painful. With you Elizabeth, I felt none of that. So no, I am hiding no bad habits from you.”

That last was not entirely true. The idea of kissing his fiancé was a daily flight of fancy. But he was a gentleman and was going to remain one. He would confess his sin in a month’s time.

“Your remembrances of our time at Netherfield Park are a good riposte to my worries. And most of what you say with regard to the ladies of the Ton, I can also apply against the gentlemen. I will allow that our relationship is too perfect. We must refrain from being too happy in case it invokes envy.”

They laughed and picked up their pace as they strode out in the Spring sunshine.

--

In contrast, there was little laughter at Longbourn. Lydia was on her way to Brighton in the Colonel’s carriage, her good cheer in stark contrast to the worry of Mary and Jane, and the tears of Catherine. As they had predicted Mr. Bennet did not care that ‘one of the silliest girls in England’ was to be in the same area as thousands of soldiers, both Regulars and Militia. To Jane’s amazement and disgust he had dismissed her concerns with a scandalous flippancy. ‘ Lydia will never be easy until she has exposed herself in some public place or other, and we can never expect her to do it with so little expense or inconvenience to her family as under the present circumstances.’

She had left his study without another word and Mary later found her repairing the damage from a bout of weeping. For the rest of May and into June there was an impending sense of doom.

It was not helped by the approach of their sister’s wedding. All three of Jane, Mary and Elizabeth were bitterly disappointed that they could not all be together on her special day. Their Uncle Gardiner had requested that they come to London, the reason not stated, but Mrs. Bennet would not allow them to go without accompanying them. They were at an impasse. The time spent every day with Catherine was bearing fruit, and they were starting to see the individual that was buried under Lydia’s domineering exuberance. But neither Jane nor Mary had shared the date of Elizabeth’s wedding so their sombre mood dragged down the mood of their sister.

“Are our parents aware of the day of Lizzie’s wedding?”

“I do not believe so. How would they know, unless Uncle Gardiner told them? I cannot see him doing that. Have either of them written to Lizzie?”

Jane shook her head at Mary’s question.

“No. If Mama had written and Elizabeth had not responded then she would be complaining about it at the dinner table. I cannot be sure about Papa but Lizzie would have told us if there were any letters from them. It is terrible that our family has come to this, yet I cannot be surprised.”

“There has also been no further letter from Lydia since the note letting us know she had arrived safely. The lack of news worries me.”

“Mary, I share your concerns. Unfortunately neither of our parents do. Papa is grateful for the peace and quiet and frankly Mama is hoping that she comes back married. She never explains how such a situation could come to pass. It is foolish in the extreme.”

In early June all their fears came to pass.

An express came at midnight, just as the family were all gone to bed. It was from Colonel Forster, to inform them Lydia was missing. At the time, it was presumed that she had gone off to Scotland with one of the Militia officers. Mrs. Bennet went from borderline hysterical at receiving an express so late, to full bore hysteria when she heard that Lydia was missing. Mary and Jane watched their father shake his head and reread the letter clearly hoping for the words on the page to change. The letter fell from his grasp and while he organized Mrs. Hill to deal with their mother, Jane quickly scanned the note. She placed it on the table in the hall and dragged Mary to her room.

“What did it say?”

“Lydia broke her fast with the Forsters yesterday morning, Thursday. She has not been seen since. It was not until late this morning that she was discovered to be missing.”

“What about dinner yesterday?”

“There is no mention of that. All of Lydia’s belongings were missing so the Colonel suspects that she has eloped to Scotland. He sent the express and then was going to take a muster of his officers to see which one was missing. He will send an update first thing tomorrow morning.”

“With all her clothes and belongings missing she has not met with an accident. This must have been deliberate, a calculated action.”

There was little sleep that night at Longbourn. The second express from the Colonel was more detailed but did little to bring any clarity to the situation. There were no officers missing from Colonel Forster’s regiment. He had made enquiries with the other Militia regiments at the camp and none had reported any missing officers. It was only in this second note that Colonel Forster reported on Lydia’s behaviour while in Brighton. Mrs. Bennet could try to call it spirited as much as she wanted, everyone else knew the truth. Jane and Mary allowed Catherine to join them as they discussed the news.

“Catherine, this is a difficult question to answer but I need your best guess. There are no redcoats missing but Lydia has carefully packed her belongings and is now missing. You heard Mama last autumn going on about Mr. Bingley and his purported ￡5,000 a year. Did Lydia ever make any mention of pursuing a rich gentleman rather than an officer?”

Catherine took her time and thought back over the last nine months, ever since the rumour of the Militia had started.

“There was talk of the Militia before we knew of Mr. Bingley. Do you not remember Mama reminiscing about a Colonel Miller, and how she had cried for days after he left? Lydia has been enamoured with redcoats ever since. She had no interest in either Mr. Bingley or the other gentleman that accompanied him. Her focus has been on officers for nearly a year.”

Mary knew of Elizabeth’s three propositions, and them coming from purported gentlemen. Lydia had no dowry and was sufficiently flirty that to a man of no morals she would appear to be only one step away from a light-skirt. What she could not understand is how Lydia was convinced to pack her things and join the man. It was only this fact that was stopping her thinking the worst had happened to her sister. Jane brought her attention back to the issue.

“She went willingly. It is not a civilian gentleman, regardless of how wealthy as she only has eyes for officers. And that is putting aside the issue of a gentleman thinking Lydia worthy of an elopement. In nearly every case there is a dowry or inheritance involved. And as far as Colonel Forster knows, and he checked the other regiments, there are no missing officers. Something does not add up here.”

Even Mr. Bennet could not ignore this danger to the family, but since travel was forbidden on the Sabbath it was Monday morning before he set off for Brighton. Jane and Mary spent Elizabeth’s wedding day worrying about their sister.

The object of their concern was considerably more intelligent than any of her family gave her credit for. Six months earlier Lydia was chasing after officers as close as possible to her own age, the Lieutenants or young Captains of the Militia Regiment. But the disappearance of Wickham and the subsequent gossip on how much the junior officers were paid had educated her to the different levels of pay, and the paltry sums earned by them. While she was self-absorbed and thoughtless, she was also happy to enjoy the comforts of Longbourn. When she realised her pin money was not much less than the pay of a Lieutenant after his deductions, they were gone from her thoughts immediately. Lydia Bennet liked a redcoat but she like food, warmth and new dresses even more.

This was where the acquaintance that had deepened into friendship with Mrs. Forster had made a difference. Sarah Forster was less than three years older than Lydia and had executed to perfection the plan that Lydia was now going to copy. She had targeted Colonel Forster and had looked at no other. He was a wounded war hero, as Elizabeth had discovered all those months ago at Lucas Lodge. 20 years of hard soldiering had left him susceptible to the charms of Sarah Forster. Lydia now proposed to emulate her friend from amongst the officers at Brighton.

With the help of Mrs. Forster it had not been difficult to attract the attention of many of the officers. And she did not just focus on Militia officers, Regular Army officers were equally attractive. After several false steps Lydia refined her demeanour to one more appropriate for senior officers. After three weeks, she had been able to converse with them, while still indulging in mild flirting. It was a fine line to walk but she was young, buxom and pretty. The focus of her efforts, Major Simon Brown was very similar to Colonel Forster. A veteran of much fighting he did not yet have the easy sinecure of command of a Militia Regiment. In 10 days he was scheduled to lead his men to Southampton for embarkation to the Peninsula. During the past two months of training he had become fixated on the idea of finding a young wife to accompany him to Spain and warm his bed at night. He had won a great deal of money playing cards and as a result could ensure her relative comfort.

A moderately rich Major, with a wish for a nubile young wife met a pretty young woman half his age, enamoured with any senior officer in a redcoat and with a thirst for adventure. They were made for each other. Now all they had to do was elope!

Riding for Gretna Green was out of the question so how were they going to marry? When Lydia heard Major Brown’s idea she was taken with it immediately. It was one more step in this great adventure. Young women who had not reached their majority could not marry without the permission of their parents. But young women who had been widowed were exempt from this restriction as it was presumed permission had been previously granted. The judicious dispersing of a couple of sovereigns amongst the clerks of the Adjutant General’s office procured the name, and more importantly the documents, of a young widow who had herself died. The wedding of Lydia Bennet, named as Annie Chisholm for the ceremony, and Simon Brown was totally invalid. The bride was falsifying her name, was not a widow, was underage and did not have parental consent. It mattered not one jot to Lydia. She believed herself married to a redcoat and, although she did not know it, was also the first of the five Bennet sisters to marry. She beat her sister Elizabeth by five days.

Confusion over what had happened was enabled by the fact Sarah Forster had stood witness for the couple but said nothing to her husband. Major and Mrs. Brown left on schedule for Southampton with the rest of the Major’s regiment. Therefore nobody was searching the road along the south coast.

Jane and Mary had agreed not to share the news with their sister on the eve of her wedding but as a full week had passed since the first express they reluctantly agreed to inform the now Mrs. Darcy of Lydia’s disappearance. All they had heard from their father was a terse note informing them he had arrived in Brighton safely but that there was no trace of Lydia. Then the letter arrived.

Mrs. Lydia Brown had cheerfully, yet thoughtlessly, written a short letter to her family and it had been sent as the ship slipped away from the dock for Spain. With a blithe disregard for any and all proprieties she informed them she was blissfully happy with her dear Simon. His regiment had been posted to Spain and she was accompanying him there. She even wrote that by the time the family received the letter she would be on the high seas. She would write when she could but she was now a married woman, off on an adventure with the man she loved. That was it.

There was no mention of her husband’s name or his rank. They were able to figure out from her changed surname and her ‘dear Simon’ comment that she was married to a Simon Brown. That he had been posted to Spain meant he was in the Regulars, but other than that they had no intelligence. And most glaringly of all there was no information as to how she had actually been able to marry in the first place. Mary and Jane did not have to time to try and resolve any of the many outstanding questions. When Mrs. Bennet read that Lydia had followed her husband to Spain she collapsed. And this was not one of her faux-dramatic calling for salts. She collapsed to the floor like a marionette when all the strings were cut at once.

Although Jane was the oldest, Mary took charge.

“Mrs. Hill, please attend our mother. Have her taken to her room. Mr. Hill, we will need two grooms, one for a short local trip, the other to contact our father and request his immediate return. Jane, a note to Mr. Jones requesting his attendance.”

The three set to their tasks.

“Catherine, I need you to write a short note demanding father’s immediate return to Longbourn. Make no mention of either Lydia and her letter or our mother. Impress upon him that this is not a request but a demand for his return. I will sign it, have no fear of his wrath.”

Mary took it upon herself to write the most important letter. A groom could reach Darcy House before night and pass on the request that the Darcys come to Longbourn immediately. He would stay the night and then travel to Brighton the next day. Mary wished she had time for a lengthy explanation but it was already well into the afternoon and she had no time.

‘There is a situation here that requires your immediate assistance. L. has eloped and is presently on a ship to Spain with her new officer husband. Mrs. B. has collapsed and the apothecary has been called. Mr. B. is in Brighton and unlikely to return until Monday evening or Tuesday lunchtime. All three of us would very much like your support, and truthfully we need it. Congratulations on your wedding. Love M, J & C.”

It was nothing more than the letter form of a barked set of instructions. It was all she could do.