I heard Jane’s voice in the entryway. “Don’t bother announcing us,” she said. Then someone else called, “Lydia!”
Kitty. She must have come with Jane from High Tor, and Lydia had brushed past them in her flight.
Papa hadn’t moved; it was as though his hands were stuck to the desk. But at the sound of Jane’s voice, he rose. “I never thought Lydia could cause the family any more harm or disgrace herself more than she already has. I see I was wrong. Apparently there is no end to her folly.”
“Papa?” Jane entered the room while Kitty, presumably, ran after Lydia. “What has happened? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Believe me, my dear, a ghost would be preferable. It would likely mean I was having a nightmare from which I could awake. Leave me, please, girls.”
“Some brandy would help, perhaps?”
“No, Jane. I desire nothing but to be left alone.”
“At least sit down, sir.”
He glared, and Jane and I hurried out of the library and into the downstairs sitting room. My sister removed her bonnet and gloves, and when she was seated, said, “What could Wickham have been thinking? How could he hurt Lydia in this way?”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Nor the worst of it, I thought.
“You had better tell me, then.”
And so I did, revealing to her the contents of Wickham’s letter and Lydia’s shocking response to Papa’s question. Tears glistened in Jane’s eyes. She bowed her head and when she looked up asked, “Does my mother know?”
I shook my head. “But she’s due home directly. There is no way to keep it from her, although before Papa had the truth from Lydia, I think he thought of doing so.” I gave my sister a questioning look. “Why have you come, Jane?” I asked.
She half-smiled. “I thought to be of some help. And I intended to swap Kitty for you.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Kitty was to stay here with Lydia, and you were to return to High Tor with me. Those two have always been thick as a pair of conniving thieves, and I daresay if anyone were to hear the whole tale from Lydia, it would be Kitty. But now I think you both must leave.”
“Oh,” I said softly. But I did not wish to go to High Tor, where I would be separated from my books and my solitude. Although, truth to tell, my solitude had been shattered by Lydia’s presence. Always demanding I sit with her, and then abusing me when I did.
“What news from Elizabeth?” Jane asked.
“None so far.”
“I can only imagine what Mr. Darcy will say about this. After all he did for Wickham and Lydia, this is how he is repaid.”
When Lydia ran off with Wickham, there was some question as to whether or not marriage was intended. Our family had been thrown into hopelessness and near panic. Mr. Darcy, the closest thing to a relative Wickham could claim, located the couple and arranged for their wedding. He settled an additional thousand pounds on Lydia, apart from what she was to receive from Papa, and also made good on Wickham’s debts. To secure their future—or perhaps that of our sister—he purchased a commission for Wickham. In doing so, he received all the respect and gratitude due him from our family. And if Elizabeth still harbored doubts about loving him, Mr. Darcy’s discreet handling of the matter had banished them.
Jane leaned back and rested her head on the chair. “What is to be done?”
Clearly she did not expect an answer, but I made one anyway. “Lydia will remain here until her child is born. We can keep up the lie Mama has already put about, that Mr. Wickham’s military duties prevent him from being at her side. In the meantime, Mr. Darcy can pay a visit to Newcastle and try to talk some sense into him, and perhaps ascertain more accurately the circumstances.”
Jane stared at me. “Why, Mary, I believe you are right. If Mr. Darcy will agree, that would be just the thing. Although we have no right to expect it of him, he will most likely feel it his duty. I do not envy Lizzy having to be the one to tell him all of this.”
“Nor I. Jane, I—” As I was about to raise objections to staying at High Tor, we heard a commotion from the entryway—Mama arriving home from her visit to Lady Lucas.
“Jane is here?” she asked the butler. “And Kitty, too, you say?” She swept into the room and embraced my sister. “Oh, dear Jane, I should have known you would come. My poor Lydia! What Wickham has done is unspeakable.” She shed her wrap and rang the bell for tea. “But where are the other girls?”
Neither Jane nor I answered, and she looked about her, as though they were hiding and would soon pop out and surprise her. I glanced pointedly at Jane, who said, “There is more bad news, Mama. You’d better be seated.”
“More bad news? Is someone sick or injured? Is your David all right? Lizzy’s twins? Oh, do not keep me in suspense!” She flopped down on the chaise, her face having turned quite pale.
“No, be assured the children are all well.” She hesitated a moment.
“What then?”
“It concerns Lydia and Wickham, Mama. Mr. Wickham wrote to Papa and . . . and accused Lydia of being unfaithful to him. He does not believe himself to be the father of her child.”
“Good heaven!” Mama slumped the length of the chaise, and I hurried over to make sure she hadn’t truly swooned. “That blackguard! Such a falsehood! He has never told the truth in his life!” She hoisted herself up and said, “What’s the matter with you, Mary? Why are you staring at me?”
I jumped back. “I was only making sure you were well.”
Mrs. Hill entered the room with the tea and Jane poured. I handed Mama a cup and said, “When Papa asked Lydia directly, she confessed that she didn’t know who the father of her child was.” There. It was said. Mama would simply have to accept it.
A long, pitiful wail escaped her lips. It sounded quite similar to the baying of a hound scenting his prey. “How could this be happening to me? Don’t my own children care about the condition of my nerves? And my dear Lydia, how could she have behaved so shamefully?”
The familiar sounds of giggling and chattering from my two younger sisters emanated from the stairway, and very shortly afterward they entered the room.
“Jane! You would come,” Lydia said. “I’m only surprised Lizzy is not with you. And Mama, see who Jane has brought home! Now I shall not be so bored.”
“What is wrong, Mama?” Kitty asked. “Are you ill?”
“How can you ask such a thing, you stupid girl?”
From the dumbfounded look on Kitty’s face and the question she put to my mother, I deduced that Lydia hadn’t informed Kitty of her latest indiscretion.
“Lydia, I would never have thought this of you,” Mama said. “How could you?”
“What is she talking about?” Kitty asked, looking from one of us to the other.
“To think that I believed you happily married and settled! How could you have deceived me in this way?”
“Good God, would someone please tell me what has happened?” Kitty shouted.
“Lydia does not know who the father of her child is,” I said bluntly. That quieted everybody.
“Mary, you need not state it in that way,” Mama said.
“What other way is there? Lydia herself owned to it; I was merely repeating it for Kitty’s benefit.”
Kitty jerked around to face Lydia. “Who else if not Wickham? He is your husband.”
Will Lydia now catalog all her lovers? Could there be more than one?
“Lord above! As if I didn’t know that,” Lydia said. “He’s the one who seems to have forgotten.”
Jane rose. “Everyone, hush! This is not a fit subject for discussion in front of Mary and Kitty. The last thing we need to hear about is . . . well, never mind.” She folded her hands in front of her and paced the room for a moment, during which time no one broke the silence, not even Mama.
“Kitty, you must return to High Tor with me, and Mary, you as well. It’s not proper for either of you to stay here at present, while Lydia’s . . . situation is under discussion.”
Kitty looked horrified. “But I don’t want to! Mr. Walsh has gone away.”
“You cannot leave me here by myself,” Lydia protested. “It would be unbearable. Kitty must stay.”
“Yes, please,” Kitty said, Lydia’s little echo.
“I will not permit both Mary and Kitty to leave, and therefore, neither will Mr. Bennet. Not one of you selfish girls has considered my feelings in the matter,” Mama said.
“Dear Mama, both Lydia and my father will be here, and you have the servants to look after you,” replied Jane.
“This is not to be borne! Mr. Bennet is useless in these situations! And what if the babe should come? I’m no midwife.”
No, more a fishwife, I thought unkindly.
“We must engage a midwife for the birth. You have about a month left until your lying-in, do you not, Lydia? When the babe’s birth is imminent, either Elizabeth or I will come and attend you as well,” Jane said.
“I shall come to High Tor, too,” Lydia announced. “I would like it above all things.”
“You most certainly shall not,” Jane said through clenched teeth. “Now, Mary and I will go and have a talk with Papa and inform him of our decision. I’m sure he will agree we are doing what’s best for all concerned.”
Jane’s authority was something to behold. Indeed, I believed she was the only daughter from whom my mother would countenance such talk. Marriage and motherhood had bestowed a new dignity upon her. “Come, Mary,” she said, and I followed, although I didn’t relish speaking to Papa when such a dark mood was on him. And if he adopted his usual indifferent manner in such affairs, I was not at all certain he would exert himself enough to go against Mama’s wishes.
As we took our leave, I heard my mother say, when she believed we were out of hearing, “Lydia, you sly thing, tell us about the other man.”
Jane stopped in her tracks, her face blanching. She pressed her lips together tightly, and for a moment I thought she would turn back. But then she grasped my hand and together we sought out my father.
She knocked lightly before opening the door. In a few minutes, she had explained everything. To my surprise, Papa agreed with the plan in its entirety.
“You’ve heard nothing from Elizabeth today?” Jane asked him.
“I have not. I suppose I should write and inform her of the latest . . . developments,” he said wryly. “Darcy will be furious.”
“He has every right to be,” Jane replied.
“Just so.”
“Sir, can you speak with my mother?”
“Concerning what?”
Jane slid her eyes toward me, as if to confirm that I, too, heard Mama’s remark. I gave her a slight nod. “We informed her of Lydia’s indiscretion, and as Mary and I left the sitting room, she was overheard asking Lydia to tell her about ‘the other man’! Really, this is too much, even for her.”
“I am sensible of the unsuitability of such talk,” he said, “but I exercise no control over your mother.”
“You could if only you would take the trouble, Papa,” I put in. “She would never go against your directive.”
Papa and Jane looked at me, both with shocked expressions.
“What?” I asked, looking from one to the other.
Jane bit her bottom lip, looking as if she were suppressing a laugh. “You are very forthright, Mary.”
I took it as a criticism and cringed inside. It was the kind of remark I used to offer so freely, but at present I was attempting to break the habit. Everybody said it was unbecoming.
“Thank you, Mary,” Papa said, “for your sage advice. But it has been many years since my wife has listened to me. You will be gone to High Tor, removed from disgrace, and thus will be protected. Let us leave it at that.”
I thought, for just a moment, I glimpsed tears in his eyes, so I said nothing further. As never before, I noticed the heavy pockets of flesh under his eyes and the deep furrows between his brows. He was growing old. Old and defeated by the antics of his youngest daughter.
“Very well, sir,” Jane said. “But Mama should not allude to this with Lydia. It gives the appearance of sanctioning her behavior.”
“Thank you both for your concern. Jane, I think you must remove to High Tor with Kitty and Mary as soon as possible.”
Jane’s eyes caught mine and she heaved a weighty sigh. “Yes, sir,” she said. “I believe we have no other choice.”