THANK YOU FOR READING!
-Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 21 - For the Love of a Bennet a Pride and Prejudice Variation
The second week in Brighton taxed every last ounce of energy Elizabeth Bennet possessed. The social demands of card-playing, dinners, and dancing twice a week in the assembly rooms were far more than what was expected back home in Hertfordshire, or any place that Elizabeth had the privilege to visit. To complicate matters further, the constant coming and going from the town home came at an inconvenient time for Lizzy. Her courses were brief but forced her to disappoint the Darcys with her regrets for a few days.
Thankfully, Elizabeth was not alone in needing a reprieve from the social life of Brighton. Mrs. Forster also found herself indisposed with greater frequency, and so often Colonel Forster escorted Lydia, with the help of Mrs. Warrender, to the various engagements while the other two ladies stayed home. By the middle of June, Elizabeth was able to enjoy a walk in the Old Steine Gardens once more with the Darcy party.
Just as they had before, they broke into two couples, with Mr. Darcy escorting Elizabeth and Georgiana and her companion taking the exercise together.
“Have you considered how long you and Miss Darcy will remain in Brighton?” Elizabeth asked, slightly nervous in her tone. It had been nearly a week since she played duets with his sister and dined at Marlborough House, and Elizabeth found herself to be much more at ease in Mr. Darcy’s company. However, the man excited her to no end! Her nervous demeanor no longer came from fear of his derision, but a painfully desperate desire for his devotion.
“At present, our plans allow us to stay for another month. Then we have plans with Mr. Bingley and his sister to travel North, to Pemberley.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I believe we are to stay until the middle of August, but I am not convinced we shall make it that long.”
Mr. Darcy gave her an inquisitive look. Not prone to melancholy, Elizabeth Bennet began to chuckle at herself. She was not ready to explain to Mr. Darcy how they would soon have to sever their acquaintance. But she was resolved to explain the situation plainly to him that afternoon.
“Do you know if I had not come to Brighton, I was due to travel to the Lake District with my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. We were to stop in a place I believe not so very far from your home,” she explained. “My aunt hails from Derbyshire.”
Mr. Darcy tilted his head to one side, recalling Georgiana’s incessant belief that he and Miss Elizabeth Bennet were destined to run into each other once more.
“May I inquire as to what is the name of the village?” he asked.
“Lambton.”
Mr. Darcy gasped. “Why that is not five miles from Pemberley! My sister and I routinely visit, when we are in residence, of course. Very much the same as you and your sisters and the proximity to Meryton,” he explained.
Together, they gleefully chuckled as they began to walk with more energy around the small garden. Mr. Darcy told her all about Lambton, and Elizabeth appreciated the details as she felt more connected to her favorite aunt.
“There is a small series of rapids, a perfect location for a picnic. When I was a child, my nanny and I would make small paper boats to race them down the stream,” he said.
Elizabeth beamed up at Mr. Darcy’s willingness to share his childhood memories. “That sounds like a lovely way to spend an afternoon,” she commented.
He took a breath and confessed how he hoped to one day race paper boats with his children.
Both of them blushed profusely, and before either could think of a change of subject, a carriage pulled up to the curb beside them.
Mrs. Maria Fitzherbert waved her bejeweled hand out the window, calling over to the two people who provided her with great amusement.
“Yoohoo! Mr. Darcy, Miss Bennet,” the grand lady announced. A young handsome footman scurried out of the seat next to his mistress and approached the promenading couple. He bowed low and presented each of them with an elegant invitation to a ball at Steine House on the 22nd of June.
Grinning, they both walked over to the carriage and Mr. Darcy spoke first.
“How marvelous of you to invite us both. Would you mind greatly if I allowed my sister to attend? Not to dance, of course, but with her companion to observe?” he asked, as though he had not a hand in the planning of the ball.
For her part, Mrs. Fitzherbert played along.
“Yes, yes, of course, Mr. Darcy. You’ll see that the invitation is for your entire household. Forgive me, Miss Bennet, your invitation is addressed to the Colonel and his wife. But it is so very lucky that I saw you to deliver it, for I wished to place it into your hand myself,” Mrs. Fitzherbert explained, and Elizabeth nodded in thanks for her regard.
“I can see why Brighton is such a favorite along the coast. I doubt there is another seaside village better suited for those who love to dance,” Miss Elizabeth said, making polite conversation.
Mrs. Fitzherbert raised an eyebrow. “And do you count yourself among those who dance every set, Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth blushed. “I find any physical activity to be a rewarding way to spend one’s time,” she said.
Mr. Darcy coughed, as Mrs. Fitzherbert began to laugh heartily at the double entendre to Miss Bennet’s words.
Another maiden might have flinched, or looked away, but not Elizabeth. She maintained her countenance and forced her companions to either directly address the unintended interpretation of her words, or allow the matter to drop. Thankfully, as Mr. Darcy was the first to find his tongue, he changed the subject to move the conversation along.
“Are you delivering all of the invitations?” he asked, reminding Mrs. Fitzherbert of the errand she was on.
“Heavens no, but a handful I will see personally delivered today. The rest are being dispatched by my messengers. And on that note, my dears, I’m afraid I really must be going. Enjoy your afternoon, and I expect you both to open the ball dancing together,” Mrs. Fitzherbert stated, and the happy couple laughed at the eccentric antics of one of Brighton’s most famous residents.
They stepped away from the carriage before Mrs. Fitzherbert could close the window, to avoid the cloud of dust disturbed under the quick start of the wheels. Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley caught up to them, and Elizabeth excitedly told Miss Darcy about the ball. She made sure to include that her brother intended for her to attend with her companion to observe.
“Brother, is there time for me to visit the modiste? Oh and Miss Bennet, you must come with me. We must have new gowns for the ball!” Miss Darcy exclaimed, no longer shy around Elizabeth since the afternoon of duets.
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat, as Elizabeth looked away. Her limited funds would not allow her to procure a new gown. But, she didn’t want to disappoint Miss Darcy either. After all, the evening would be the young woman’s first opportunity to observe high society.
“Before I left for Brighton, I had an appropriate wardrobe freshly made,” she explained, even if it wasn’t quite the truth. But nor was it a lie, as she did procure one new frock for the town’s festivities. She simply had not anticipated there would be such demand in Brighton for dancing.
Elizabeth pushed aside the thought that the gown she planned to wear for Mrs. Fitzherbert’s soirée was the same frock that Mr. Darcy saw her on their first night together at the assembly. Hopefully, few noticed her attire that evening that they would not notice her wearing the same again. “But I should dearly love to support you, Miss Darcy, if your invitation still stands.”
They made an accord to go shopping on a day that suited them both in the very near future.
As they passed by a bench, Miss Darcy announced that she would like to sit and rest for a moment, a thinly veiled effort on her part to give her brother and Miss Elizabeth more privacy. She did not appear to be particularly fatigued, but Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth accepted her plan graciously. They continued slowly along the circuit while Georgiana and her companion sat underneath the shade of the trees.
Lost in their thoughts, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth walked together silently for half a circuit. Elizabeth no longer thought that Mr. Darcy was thinking the worst when he was quiet, and increasingly she was more distracted by her own concerns. There was no denying that she and Mr. Darcy came from very different spheres of wealth. She never thought of herself as penniless, but even Elizabeth was sensible about her dowry. She possessed very little to recommend her to a potential husband.
She thought about him being a doting father, the parent he did not appear to have, taking the children on adventures on his estate. Her heart felt so full in his company, and yet she knew she could never have them.
“Would you be offended, sir, if I spoke plainly on the subject that may cause injury to us both?” she asked.
Mr. Darcy stumbled in his steps but recovered his gait quickly. He touched the brim of his hat and nodded, not daring to say a word.
“I feel honor-bound to warn you that my sister Lydia is hopelessly entangled with Mr. Wickham. Her behavior each day grows more outrageous than the last, and I have no ally in the house to help me check the worst of it. Colonel Forster maintains that he will consent to Lydia’s marriage to any man he deems worthy. But my trepidation is that no man will find Lydia worth the trouble.”
Mr. Darcy listened carefully to Elizabeth’s words and nodded to acknowledge that he heard her.
“Has Mr. Wickham shown any sign of losing interest, perhaps?” Mr. Darcy asked, and Elizabeth shook her head.
“Quite the opposite. He and Lieutenant Denny visit every day, any time they don’t have any duties. Colonel Forster escorts Lydia out with them practically every evening,” Elizabeth said, her voice gaining a hard edge to her tone as she became angry at her predicament.
“That is very grave, indeed. Do you believe Miss Lydia has been taken advantage of?”
Elizabeth laughed hollowly, “Ha! If I was not quite aware of the man’s lack of scruples, I should be more worried about the gentleman being taken advantage of by my sister,” she said. Immediately, Elizabeth ceased walking and closed her eyes, angry that she allowed her frustrations with Lydia to bring unkind words out of her mouth.
“Forgive me. My sister is immature and determined to find a husband. With her behavior, I can say it is better for her to marry sooner rather than later. But I’m afraid it is nearly inevitable she will either align herself with Mr. Wickham or ruin us all,” Elizabeth said, finally opening her eyes and turning to gaze deeply into Mr. Darcy’s, “I shall not be able to keep an acquaintance with you.” Her voice cracked as she tried to tell him the very worst of it.
Mr. Darcy swallowed, and his eyes searched hers for relief.
“Elizabeth, I could never –” he began, but then stopped and looked up at the sky.
Elizabeth, fearing the worst, begged him not to say more.
“Please, sir, I hold no delusions of what my future will become due to my sister. And I am powerless to stop it. But I realize that I cannot bear to hear you say we may never meet again,” she said, looking away from him to see Miss Georgiana Darcy, who had decided her rest was over, walking once more with her companion. In Elizabeth’s opinion, that young woman was everything sweet and kind she wished her sister Lydia was, but it was not to be.
“Do those clouds look ominous to you?” Miss Darcy said as they soon came upon her brother and Miss Elizabeth standing awkwardly next to one another, both looking very upset.
Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth turned around to spy an angry squall on the horizon, blowing in a cold wind.
“I must get you back,” Mr. Darcy said, without giving Elizabeth much of a chance to speak further.
Under the circumstances, Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley headed straight for Marlborough House across the square. Elizabeth worried for a moment about walking without a chaperone with Mr. Darcy back to King’s Road. On balance, she realized it was a silly concern. Lydia would ruin them all, regardless.
They were only a block away when the skies opened up and a torrential downpour began to pelt every unlucky pedestrian who had not yet found shelter. Elizabeth broke out into a run, trying to protect the invitation in her hand by keeping it close to her person. She squealed with delight as the rain was so very cold against her skin. Mr. Darcy easily kept pace just behind her with his long legs, and they reached the door of the town home.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, but she did not stop due to the poor weather. The front door opened and Elizabeth hurried inside, gratefully accepting a towel from the butler. When she turned around, believing Mr. Darcy was right behind her. To her surprise, the man never came inside.
Elizabeth walked back to the front door, and opened it, but only a bluster of rain blew in, earning her shouts from the staff to kindly close the door. Mr. Darcy had disappeared.
For the Love of a Bennet
What if Elizabeth Bennet traveled with Lydia to Brighton?
A reimagining of Jane Austen’s most beloved tale, Pride & Prejudice, join author Elizabeth Ann West as she writes the romantic adventure story she always wanted! When Lizzy and Lydia arrive in Brighton, it’s very clear that the younger Bennet sister came with very serious plans towards Mr. Wickham. Thankfully, an old ally is also in town, with problems of his own to solve. After Mr. Darcy, himself, is summoned to Brighton to hopefully solve two dilemmas with one wealthy member of the gentry, the whole militia is thrown into an uproar by Wickham’s most dastardly deed, yet. Together, Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy have to save Lydia from her own undoing, or it will mean more than just mere reputations are ruined.
For the Love of a Bennet is a novel length story, currently being posted chapter by chapter on Elizabeth’s author site. This story was originally conceptualized in 2019 as a part of the All Go to Brighton challenge.
Chapter 22 - For the Love of a Bennet, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Mr. Darcy’s heart felt utterly broken as he walked back to Marlborough House in the pouring rain. The rain soaked his clothing, through and through. Water dripped off the brim of his hat. But the man trudged on. He had bigger problems than a little fall of rain.
At present, he could see no way of helping Miss Elizabeth out of her troubles. Anything that Mr. Wickham became involved in, led to the worst results. For years, Darcy had made arrangements, paid off his victims, and kept his family name intact. He was responsible for the man’s path of destruction as he never once allowed consequences to reach the man.
As the rain beat against him, he looked up at the sky in futility. The dark clouds thundered above him, and for a moment he wished the lightning would strike him down. Realizing his thoughts were a dangerous taunt to the Almighty, he immediately felt remorseful that he allowed such black reflections to impair his judgment.
Puddles filled the uneven portions of the path and he momentarily became stuck in the mud. So lost in his concerns, he had walked on without attending to his direction. He grunted and managed to free himself from the sludgy mixture of soil and sand, without dislodging his boot off his foot. He promised himself to consider more practical answers for Miss Elizabeth’s predicament as he reached the corner of the Old Steine and spotted his temporary residence.
He considered writing a letter to Mr. Bennet explaining his concerns, but he doubted the man’s opinion of him would lead to a positive result. Short of tossing Miss Elizabeth and her sister Lydia into a carriage and taking them straight back to their father’s house, Mr. Darcy aligned with his Elizabeth in his thoughts. There was nothing to be done.
“Brother! You had us worried!” Georgiana said, pouncing upon her brother’s arrival at Marlborough House the moment he stepped into the home, spilling water all over the marble foyer.
“This way, sir,” his valet offered, as Mr. Darcy shivered.
“Miss Elizabeth is safely home,” he said to his sister and her companion, with a sniff. Retreating back to his suite of rooms, Mr. Darcy gently wiped tears from his eyes with his thumb and middle finger. There was nothing worse in the world than to feel completely powerless in helping those that he loved most. At least with the rain, none of his staff witnessed his loss of regulation over his emotions.
He shrugged off his soaked coat, and carefully, his valet untied his cravat. The thorough soaking had made the knot more difficult than usual, as the cloth did not easily slide against itself.
“I shall call for a hot bath,” his man said, and Mr. Darcy nodded.
Over an hour later, successfully warmed and dressed in a fresh suit, Mr. Darcy still lacked a better answer than the one he had before. If he was lucky, he would be able to finish his business in Brighton, satisfying his cousin, by the end of the following week. Then perhaps with Georgiana’s assistance, they might persuade Colonel Forster, and Miss Lydia especially, to a personal invitation to Pemberley. He recalled that Elizabeth had mentioned Miss Lydia’s constant tantrums wore Colonel Forster’s patience thin with his guests.
A letter to Mr. Bennet seemed to be the best course of action for him to take. If the man was unmoved, certainly there could be nothing worse than taking Miss Lydia and Miss Elizabeth away from Brighton. He could think of no better consequence than that he and Miss Elizabeth would be forced to marry. Such an important decision though, he would gain her consent before writing to her father and resolved to beat Lydia to the task of ruination.
The butler of Marlborough House interrupted Mr. Darcy’s daydreams of an unorthodox path to wedded bliss with Miss Elizabeth by announcing the arrival of his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Darcy stood up from the one decent chair he’d found in the entire house and had relocated to the library as his cousin walked in.
“Please tell me there are new developments you can share,” Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam began, offering his cousin a perfunctory bow of courtesy. He helped himself directly to the decanter on the far side of the room and continued to talk to his cousin. “I can no longer sit idly by and hope this man will be caught!” He slammed his hand on the table, attracting Darcy’s immediate attention.
“Peace, what has transpired?” Darcy asked, carefully approaching his cousin.
Richard’s hand shook with the glass in his hand and he swiftly set it down, and then stepped away, highly agitated. Darcy thought he heard his cousin hold back a sob, but he wasn’t sure. Eventually, Richard turned around and with a steeled expression, delivered the news he had come to impart.
“The body of Cadet Davies was discovered this afternoon. I sent Angelica away for her safety.”
“Shawcroft?” Darcy asked, and Richard nodded.
“But I cannot prove it. Davies told me that he had something more to share with me last night. This morning, the boy missed the muster.”
“Murder?”
Richard wisely returned to his drink and swallowed half of it. He flinched at the burn and avoided revealing the lack of information on his side. He came to Marlborough House for an update from his cousin, not the other way around.
“You said a week ago you would know by now if your plan was successful.”
Darcy spun around, and with a twinkle of mischief in his eye, he gave his cousin an order.
“Follow me,” he said, interrupting his cousin’s melancholy mood. It was a shame about the young lad. Richard had taken a keen liking to the boy. There were several ways the boy could have died, though his involvement with Shawcroft’s smuggling operation made his death more likely to be criminal, instead of accidental.
Darcy led him down the long hall, through another room, and picked up a lantern waiting next to a locked door. He lit the candle and opened the door, revealing a flight of stairs.
Richard peered down the dark stairwell.
“After you, you’re holding the light,” he said, gesturing formally with his hands for his cousin to go first. Darcy cursed under his breath after he tried to get Richard to take the light, but the man refused. So he started down the steps.
The walls soon turned to earth, and the passageway was damp and musty smelling. The floor was also slightly sloped down, but Darcy held the lantern high so both men could see their footing.
“I started to think. You know how I like a good puzzle.”
Richard encouraged his cousin to continue explaining.
“This house, for example. Built by a man with no limits to his purse, large, imposing, and set back from the sea. Makes one ask why?”
“Because the sea rises? Storms?” Richard asked, and Darcy shook his head as they neared where the path began rising.
“Not likely here in the channel. No, the man who built this house, nay this town, was a lowly vintner with a partner who was a watch-maker. Before the Duke bought the property,” Darcy shared, “I wondered how a man of his background could acquire such wealth as to fund this project,” he said.
“And what made you think the house had secrets?” Richard asked, looking at the tunnel as proof of his charge.
“It was Miss Elizabeth’s book, talking about Brighton renaming the buildings and the town itself. Made me think I should look deeper into the history.”
The two men opened another door and suddenly found themselves standing in a large, underground storehouse with supporting timber beams that crisscrossed the earthen walls.
“Smuggling!” Richard said, seeing how the space was still used by the staff for the household’s cold storage in one corner, but the space was too large to only provide for the household, even in its most glorious days of entertaining. But then Richard spied the wooden crates that were not a part of the household’s dry goods. Some of the crates were open, and he could spy glass bottles that might hold rum or champagne.
“Darcy, what did you do? Did you steal from the vagabonds?”
Darcy laughed. “No. And they’re good men. Men I could deal with,” he said, still slightly incensed that Shawcroft had refused his aid. “Mrs. Fitzherbert had a few connections, and I paid the butler a handsome bonus for his help.”
“You paid for all of this?” Richard asked.
Darcy nodded. “Shawcroft bragged about talking his way into an advance from the courtiers at the Pavilion. Prinny is holding a Midnight Ball on the 24th, to celebrate his return to Brighton.”
“Shawcroft must know his goods are gone,” Richard speculated.
“Then it’s a matter of time before he is caught out. My sources say the delivery is due next week.”
Richard was stunned. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and cautiously walked up to the crates. Picking up the crowbar laying next to them, he opened one and spied six bottles of champagne packed in sawdust. He laughed and opened another, finding the same. Triumphantly, he threw the crowbar down and applauded his cousin. Then his mood fell.
“How did this get Davies killed?” he wondered, looking around at the crates and wishing he had done more to protect the young man.
Cautiously, Darcy walked over to his cousin and picked up a bottle of the rum. His cousin needed time to mourn, and Darcy wanted to ask Richard about what to do about Mr. Wickham.
When they reached the house properly again, there was a new line of storms lashing against the windows. Richard accepted his cousin’s offer to stay and drink to oblivion, and their first toast of the evening was to the young private.
You’ve been reading For the Love of a Bennet.
Now available everywhere ebooks are sold!
What if Elizabeth Bennet traveled with Lydia to Brighton?
A reimagining of Jane Austen’s most beloved tale, Pride & Prejudice, join author Elizabeth Ann West as she writes the romantic adventure story she always wanted! When Lizzy and Lydia arrive in Brighton, it’s very clear that the younger Bennet sister came with very serious plans towards Mr. Wickham. Thankfully, an old ally is also in town, with problems of his own to solve. After Mr. Darcy, himself, is summoned to Brighton to hopefully solve two dilemmas with one wealthy member of the gentry, the whole militia is thrown into an uproar by Wickham’s most dastardly deed, yet. Together, Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy have to save Lydia from her own undoing, or it will mean more than just mere reputations are ruined.
For the Love of a Bennet is a novel length story, currently being posted chapter by chapter on Elizabeth’s author site. This story was originally conceptualized in 2019 as a part of the All Go to Brighton challenge.
Chapter 23 - For the Love of a Bennet, a Pride and Prejudice Variation1
To Elizabeth’s dismay, Mr. Darcy did not call on her, but she could not blame him. No matter how much both of them wished the circumstances were different, the scourge of Mr. Wickham in her life left little room for polite society. At night, she dreamt of marrying Mr. Darcy and living away from the world at Pemberley. She knew little about his estate up north in Derbyshire, but she imagined it to be a well-proportioned mansion with a welcoming, tasteful decor.
The more likely reason Mr. Darcy had not visited was the plague of storms for half a week. When the weather finally let up, Elizabeth pressed her sister to go sea bathing. At first, Lydia tried to hold her sister off, complaining that Mr. Wickham was due to visit. The entire household had grown tired of Lydia’s incessant chatter about everything that Mr. Wickham said and everything that Mr. Wickham did.
Colonel Forster practically pushed them out the door to the carriage, with the maid he had wisely invested in to keep peace in his house. The new arrangement of the household meant Elizabeth spent her days with the maid as her companion for social invitations she received that Mrs. Forster did not wish to attend. Miss Lydia, who did practically everything that Mrs. Forster engaged in, remained with her. And in such a manner, there was a tentative tranquility so long as Lydia’s tantrums of jealousy were not set off.
Unfortunately, Mrs. Forster’s increasing condition had yielded a morning where his wife was indisposed to her bed. The last task Colonel Forster wished for was to play scorekeeper between two quarreling sisters.
The beach for women to dip into the sea was some miles away from the village proper, to provide privacy to the fairer sex. Dozens of wooden chambers affixed to wheels lay on tracks that led directly to the sea. Elizabeth paid the service for both of them, as Lydia had spent all of her pin money for the week on a new bonnet.
A large, stout woman, named Martha Gunn, took their custom and ushered them through the front door of the wooden chamber. It was a tight squeeze and she recognized weak-willed fancy ladies on holiday. They had the highest chance of shrieking and shouting, or worse, fainting in terror. Years of experience had taught her the best way to handle the most delicate was to bark orders at them like a Sergeant-at-Arms.
“Remove your gowns, and fold them kindly, placing them on the shelf up there. Put the solid gown on over your chemise. The lads outside will release the rope and the wagon will move quickly into the water. There is no reason to scream, as we are perfectly safe on the track.”
Obediently, Elizabeth began following instructions immediately, and she looked up at the small window that was high above the door. A small hatch in the ceiling of the bathing machine was propped open, allowing air to enter.
“The machine will come to a stop at a suitable depth. It being high tide, the water will come in a bit. Again, there is no need to scream,” Mrs. Gunn kept repeating.
Elizabeth regretted the entire decision to go sea-bathing, but it was far too late to change her mind. Mrs. Gunn aided Lydia, who began to fuss about which way the bathing gown fit. It was not a promising start.
“Is that top hatch for if we fall off the track and go too deep?” Elizabeth asked and the strong, stout woman grunted a non-response.
“Here we go,” she said, putting wads of cotton into her ears. Almost on cue, the wagon held up at an incline on the shore began to roll with alarming acceleration and then crashed with a big splash into the water. Lydia and Elizabeth grabbed each other as they both closed their eyes and screamed.
Water seeped in between the boards and they both quick-marched their feet up and down as the water was cold and unpleasant smelling.
Mrs. Gunn laughed at the antics of the tourists and released the latch on the back doors. The water only came in a few inches, so the back platform was submerged.
Opening her eyes, Elizabeth took a few steadying breaths and marveled at the sight before her. There was nothing but the sea as far as she could see. The waves lapped against her ankles, but they were deep enough that they only provided a gentle, rhythmic sensation.
“The small one first,” the dipper said, rolling up her sleeves. Elizabeth thought Mrs. Gunn meant Lydia. To her surprise, Mrs. Gunn’s strong arms pulled Elizabeth around her midsection to promptly drop her into the depths. Elizabeth’s head did not go under as the dipper held onto her waist and Elizabeth soon found herself floating with her arms and her legs suspended.
Elizabeth began to protest.
“I can swim, thank you kindly,” she said, as she pushed against the woman and began to paddle away.
“Stay close to the wagon, it costs extra if I have to come to save you,” Mrs. Gunn warned, then returned to the wagon to fetch Lydia.
“No, please, I cannot swim. I will stay right here, and watch Lizzy,” Lydia tried to negotiate.
Treading water and positioning herself to see Lydia’s descent, Elizabeth suddenly understood why she had been called the smaller one. Certainly, Lydia had always been taller than her, but her sister looked remarkably different and Elizabeth hadn’t noticed until a stranger pointed it out.
There was no other word to describe Lydia aside from voluptuous. Her face was full and round, and her bosom pushed the fabric of the bathing gown to its very limit.
Lydia tried to avoid the inevitable, but Mrs. Gunn stood firm about all patrons who paid to be dipped in the sea were dipped in the sea! Just before she turned her face away from the expected splash, Elizabeth noticed a strange red mark along the neckline of Lydia’s gown.
Screaming as Mrs. Gunn dipped her in the water, Lydia clung to the experienced local. Unlike Elizabeth, she had not learned how to swim in the summers their father had insisted each of his girls learn.
Despite Lydia’s displeasure, Elizabeth tried to enjoy the sea-bathing experience, but in truth, the smell of the salty water stung her nasal passages cruelly. After floating for a few more minutes, she reached out for the door of the wagon, and pulled herself in, finding the submerged wooden stairs very slippery under her bare feet.
“Back in! I wish to go back in!” Lydia shouted, after seeing Elizabeth return to the chamber. With a groan, Mrs. Gunn pulled Lydia back into the bathing machine and instructed them to each grab a leather strap along the wall.
The girls stood close to one another as the air was much colder outside of the water than in. Their teeth chattered in an off-beat staccato. Mrs. Gunn slammed and locked the back door, then pulled on a rope sticking out of the corner. They heard a bell ring on the other side and then shouts. Slowly, the wagon began to be pulled up the incline back out of the water. The entire experience had been less than a half-hour, and Elizabeth didn’t understand why anyone would find the experience to be worth repeating.
“Kitty and Mary would never have been so brave,” Elizabeth said, trying to get Lydia in a better mood.
“No one would be brave enough to do this if they knew how dreadful it was!” Lydia complained, and Mrs. Gunn shrugged at the wealthy tourist ladies giving her family’s business a bit of coin. Lydia reached as though she were to put her gown back on, but Mrs. Gunn warned her to wait.
“I’ll be opening that door there, Miss, and you don’t want to be showing the world your privates. Your maid will help you dress,” she said, explaining the limit of her services. She dipped and dunked ladies into the sea, she didn’t button any buttons!
The water drained out of the wooden vehicle, and they waited for their maid to return after Mrs. Gunn left them to fetch her.
Elizabeth tried to inspect the marks that she’d seen on Lydia’s body once more, but it was difficult in the low light.
“I have been remiss in asking how your courtship with Mr. Wickham is going,” Elizabeth said as though they did not live in a shared household together. But the truth was, Elizabeth had taken great pains to avoid all discussion of Mr. Wickham.
“Much better than yours with Mr. Darcy. You must be careful Lizzy, a man as wealthy and proud as Mr. Darcy will never offer for someone like you,” Lydia said.
“You should not speak on matters you do not understand,” Elizabeth said, wishing she could find only comedy in her sister’s ironic statement. In fact, Mr. Darcy had already offered for her hand in marriage, though she had spurned it when she believed the worst of him as a direct result of Mr. Wickham’s lies. Of course, Elizabeth had not been wrong about Mr. Darcy’s misguided actions in separating her sister Jane and his friend, Mr. Bingley. But it had not been with malice.
Elizabeth would never offer Lydia that information no matter how wrong her sister was in her beliefs.
“It is you who do not know things, Lizzy. Mr. Wickham says we shall be able to marry any day now,” Lydia said, shocking her sister.
Their maid arrived with a lantern and while the two sisters began to restore their attire, complete with new chemises, Elizabeth took a good glance at Lydia’s body when she had the opportunity. Seeing her sister look at her, Lydia made a face of disgust and quickly covered up the very clear marks that were of various colorings from bright red to slightly purple.
“Lydia!” Elizabeth exclaimed as the maid said not a word. “Have you allowed Mr. Wickham liberties? Are you mad?”
Lydia stuck her tongue out at her sister and snatched the fresh chemise from her from the maid.
“Don’t be prudish,” Lydia said. “Mr. Wickham plans to speak to Colonel Forster next week. The Colonel will understand because now Mr. Wickham has the funds to support a wife,” she explained.
Elizabeth used a towel to dry her hair, while the maid helped Lydia first into her gown. “I don’t see how that could be,” she began. The militia, as she understood it, was not paid particularly well. The work was unlike the Navy where there was prize money split amongst the officers.
Lydia laughed. “Shows what you know. Certain officers, like my dear Mr. Wickham, are so proficient in their work that others recognize their superior abilities. Captain Shawcroft recruited him for a highly dangerous mission. And there was a bonus,” Lydia said triumphantly.
Elizabeth let the matter drop, but Lydia continued to wax eloquently about how she and Mr. Wickham had not decided where they would live after they married. She considered looking for a home in Hertfordshire, but the society was too lacking for him. Instead, he promised they would live in London, and she would have all of the best gowns and trimmings the shops could offer.
Feeling hopeless, Elizabeth distracted herself with a foolish calculation of what traumatized her more, the endeavor of being thrown into the sea, or realizing that her sister Lydia may already be carrying Mr. Wickham’s child. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but it was time that she did something.
You’ve been reading For the Love of a Bennet.
Now available everywhere ebooks are sold!
+ 23 additional Pride & Prejudice variations are available at these fine retailers . . .
Keep reading more by clicking below!