Lydia Bennet's Story (15 page)

Saturday, August 7th
The days run into one another with such immense gratification that I am hardly aware of time and live in perfect rapture, drunk on love and the fulfilment that my Lord and Master brings me. We have not stirred for days, and I do not think we will ever rise again—though for dear Mr Wickham rising often is never a problem!!!

Dear me! How Harriet would laugh if she could see me! How I wish I had seen her face when she discovered my note to tell her of my elopement—I bet she split her sides!!!

I did feel a little anxious when we first arrived in Edward Street to see Mrs Younge for we had nowhere to stay, and with little money, we did not know at first what was to become of us. However, Georgie had soon secured us lodgings in Candlewick Street with the help of his dear friend, and though we have but two rooms and the furnishings are a little shabby, I have contented myself with playing house and find happy employment in buffing the gate-leg, polishing the candlestick, and turning down the bed covers on innumerable occasions throughout the day.

For the first time in my life, I find I am entirely given up to the task of pleasing one person; I am utterly and completely compliant, and submit wholly to dear George’s every whim. He is such a patient tutor, and I am a very willing pupil. Papa would be most astonished!

I have but one regret and concern. We have very little money left, and my disappointment in having to part with my beautiful cameo earrings is truly breaking my heart. Georgie has gone to raise some money against them while he sorts out his affairs; he promises me faithfully that they will be returned very soon. I do not remember anyone ever showing such affection for me with such a thoughtful gift. I feel their loss greatly.

I do not know how we will ever manage to reach Scotland without any money. I feel sure that we will marry sooner or later, but I couldn’t care two straws about that at present; all that matters to me is that we are together and in love. George is an angel, and he is the only man for me. I cannot think why it took me so long to realize that he was my true amour, my partner for life! But then, papa always did say I was one of the silliest girls in England. However, he shall not be able to say that now, and when we go home, man and wife, I will make my father proud of me at last!

I do wish we could go out to the theatre or entertainments a little. I am longing to be seen out with my darling Mr Wickham and to be recognised as a couple, so that all the world can know he is mine, but George says we cannot possibly go out and about until his affairs are all in order. I declared I should just like to look at the shops this morning, only to view some pretty baubles, and promised to wear my veil over my bonnet, but Mr Wickham had other ideas. He has taken lately to kissing me whilst I am in the midst of conversation, and then I completely forget what I am saying and am forced to surrender. I cannot say no to him and am required so often to assuage his zealous appetites that there is little time for anything else. Indeed, as far as I am able, I have taken to anticipating these demands and have entirely dispensed with the necessity of formal attire. Idling the days away in languid recreation is more diverting than I ever dreamed possible, and I find I am able to bear all most cheerfully. Can Charlotte Collins know of such bliss? I declare mama would be quite shocked at the hours I am abed and at my willing obedience to retire. Lord, how the very idea makes me roar with laughter!!! I love dear Mr Wickham with all my heart, my body, and my soul!!!

AFTER A WEEK OF connubial-style bliss, however, Lydia was restless and bored. Her mood was peevish and her requests to go out into the town remained unchanged. Whilst sitting at the window one evening, watching the bustle of humanity going about its business, she decided she would have another try at bringing her lover round, convinced that she could persuade him to change his mind.

“I am sure you would like to go to Astley’s, my love, to see the horses; it is just the sort of place we would both enjoy. Isabella declares it is her favourite haunt in all of London. She says she has seen a man stand on the back of a horse and jump through hoops as he is galloped around.”

“We cannot afford to go to Astley’s, my dear,” said Mr Wickham gravely. “Perhaps if you had been more prudent, we might well be sampling its delights this very moment.”

“Oh, George, how can you be so cruel? We must have a little money now you have pawned my earrings. Let us skip supper and go out. I long to meet your friends. There must be somewhere you can take me.”

Mr Wickham finally acquiesced, his patience at its end. In truth, he craved some male company, and he knew Lydia, not biddable enough to stay in on her own, would insist on accompanying him. “Very well then,” he announced, “get your cloak and bonnet, come along, and let us go out.”

Lydia did not wait to be told twice, appearing moments later in her only other muslin gown, her hair dressed and topped with the only bonnet she had. “George, I was just rummaging amongst my things for a comb and I found this florin, it must have fallen out of my reticule. We will be able to eat too!” she declared.

“Are you sure you haven’t any more hiding in that voluminous bundle of yours, my sweet?” said Wickham.
“It was not hid; I have only just found it. Search my belongings if you care to, but please let us not quarrel. I do hate it when you are displeased with me,” she answered. “Let us be merry, and when we return, your little mermaid will play with you. What game shall it be? Hide the soldier’s swordstick? I declare that is your favourite!” She laughed, unlatched the door, and ran down the staircase into the night air before he had a chance to change his mind.
They kept to the side paths and the dark crooked alleyways, not venturing far. Though she was pleased to be out and about, Lydia did not like the London streets. “It is so dirty and smelly, not in the least what I expected.”
“Well, it ain’t Mayfair, that’s for sure,” he said, as he turned into a passage where the flare of lamps lit up the courtyard of an inn. Lydia sidestepped the steaming piles left by the horses as well as she could. Her satin slippers were already looking past their best, and in her haste to leave Brighton, she had not thought to bring any more.
A woman in a low cut gown leered drunkenly out of the shadows and grabbed Wickham’s arm. “Want some company, handsome?” she slurred. Wickham shook off the woman’s arm and led Lydia under the swinging sign that proclaimed the establishment to be “The Boar’s Head.” They entered the hostelry and found themselves in a dim, narrow room, filled to the brim with customers who either sat in partitioned booths at tables eating their supper or jostled one another at the bar. At one end of the tavern, a fire flickered, burnishing the range of pewter mugs and candlesticks along the mantelpiece to a golden glow, and at the other, an old clock ticked away the hours. In the space between, the patrons were high in liquor and in jovial mood. Lydia was fascinated by the ribald company, made up mostly of men whose eyes were all upon her as she clung to Wickham’s arm.
As they searched for the impossible, an empty table, a voice called out, “Wickham, by gad. What are you doing in this neck of the woods?” Its owner was a good-looking young man who stood up from the table he was sharing with a group of his fellow sailors as they approached.
“Edward Draper, is that you?” Wickham laughed and clapped the man on the back. Lydia looked on, aware that Mr Draper’s companions were staring at her approvingly.
“Come, sit yourselves down,” entreated Mr Draper. “Introduce me, you old charmer. Who is this pretty girl you have on your arm? Sit next to me, miss, and I will tell you some tales about your friend that will have your hair standing on end.” He took her gently by the hand, easing her past his knees. For a moment she fell onto his lap; the snug space, much to her assistant’s delight, did not permit her to pass easily. Lydia giggled, Mr Draper feigned embarrassment, with a thousand apologies and a squeeze of her waist, before helping her to a seat in the corner of the alcove where she sat in intimate proximity to her newfound friend, bemused by the attention she was getting. Mr Wickham did not seem perturbed in the slightest; he was already ignoring her, swapping stories, catching up with other old friends who plied him with porter, and ordering a large dinner for them all.
“Do you believe in love at first sight, Miss Bennet?” Mr Draper asked, taking her hand in his own and kissing her fingertips.
“I do, Mr Draper,” she returned, easing her hand from his grasp but giving him the benefit of a long stare, which told him in no uncertain terms that she found him most attractive. “I declare I fell in love with my George at once, though I tried to deny it for many months. My sister was in love with him, you know, and he, naughty man, seemed unaware of my existence at first.”
“That I find hard to believe, though George Wickham wouldn’t recognise a likely gal if she fell over him. Your sister liked him you say. Do you mean to tell me there are more like you at home?”
“I am one of five sisters, ’tis true, though they are not at all like me. They would never follow their heart and run away as I have,” she added, joining in with his laughter as he threw his head back and guffawed.
“So, is it an elopement?” he whispered. “Trust George to never leave things to chance.”
“It is an elopement of sorts,” she answered, “but I’m afraid we have run out of money, so we can’t get wed. Still, I daresay we will get to Gretna Green sooner or later.”
“I daresay you will; I always thought Wickham was the marrying kind,” he announced loudly enough for the company to hear, who all fell about with laughter as though he had made some huge joke. Wickham shifted in his seat and declared that they must be going soon, though Lydia’s pleas to be allowed to finish her roast beef soon quieted him. After all, he was not sure their next meal would be such an excellent one; the porter was good and he was glad to see Edward, though his tongue was still loose, he observed. Lydia was at her most flirtatious. She declared she liked a naval uniform as much as a redcoat and thought, if it were not for Mr Wickham, she could quite easily fall for Mr Draper’s charm. London was fun after all, even if she hadn’t yet been to Astley’s, but now they had been out once, perhaps George would change his mind and take her shopping. She needed new shoes and a new bonnet, and she knew she could procure them with the help of a visit to the pawnshop. The Captain’s locket still lay in its box at the bottom of her bag, and she was determined to find a means of disposal to suit herself on the morrow!

The day started well, and they rose late. Whilst lying abed, taking care to choose her time carefully, she confessed that she had the locket in the bottom of her bag and claimed she had forgotten she had such a thing in her possession. She had known that, at such a moment, George would only be half attending to what she was saying and, indeed, at first he did not express either interest or amazement. “Why did you not tell me of this before?” he said, as a dawning realisation had him sitting up and paying attention.

“I forgot it, George, I swear on my life, but now I have remembered we can make the best of it. Let us pawn it or sell it if you like, and then I thought we might do a little shopping. Oh, can we, George? Please let me have new shoes. My satin slippers are in shreds, and you know how I like a new bonnet. And you shall have new shoes, too, if you like.”

We have to live, you know.”
“Please, Georgie,” she whispered, as she caressed him. “Just
some new shoes would do. I don’t have to have a bonnet too,
though I truly need one.”
He had given in at last, and she had got her way; let out
alone in the street at the shops for a few hours, she had spent a
large sum of money on a new pair of shoes, some satin ribbon,
and a bonnet with a veil, which she could not be without. She was just turning in from St Nicholas Lane, to cross the
street to their lodgings, and was considering what a fine thing it
was to spend a morning employed with a little shopping, when
she was astonished to see someone she recognised too well
outside their door, which closed behind him before he walked off
with an air of superior purpose on the other side of the street.
She had never been so surprised to see anyone in her life!