Lydia Bennet's Story (31 page)

IT WAS ALEXANDER. “LYDIA, you are soaked through; please allow me to present my umbrella. I never go out without one in Bath.” “No, you are very wise, Mr Fitzalan, but you see before you the eternal optimist who believes that, because she does not wish it to rain, it will not happen.”

He laughed and insisted she take it before pulling up his collar against the large droplets that found their way through the canopy of leaves, spattering on his hat and down into his coat.

“Mr Fitzalan, you cannot stand so in the rain, I will not allow it. Please shelter with me under the umbrella, sir, I beg you.”
“Please do not be concerned. A little rain never hurt anyone,” he said, drawing his coat around him.
“I insist or else I shall leave this place instantly, leaving you here on your own with this instrument!” She proffered the handle towards him and it was with some reluctance that he took it. “See, there is room for two,” she said, as she stood next to him under the shelter of the brown cloth. They stood side by side, as they looked out at the scene in silence. Lydia felt Mr Fitzalan’s shoulder brush against her own; she was very aware of the intimacy but found that she had no inclination to move away. She spoke at last. “It is very beautiful, is it not? Even in the rain.”
“It is, indeed, quite delightful,” he said and turned to look into her eyes.
They were so close she could feel his breath on her cheek.
“Mr Fitzalan, I want to thank you for everything you have done. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye . . .” She did not know how to continue, and when she saw his expression, she noticed that all the good humour had gone out of his face.
“There is no need to thank me, Lydia. I only hope that you feel I did the right thing—that you have no regrets. I would not want you to think that I interfered or acted in any way that you did not wish.”
“But of course not, you have acted exactly as I wished. I desired it, believe me. He is nothing to me; he has no claim on me. I have known his true character for many months, and I own ours has been a miserable existence. But I have no one but myself to blame. I was so taken with the idea of being in love and of getting married that I didn’t stop for two seconds to consider whether I was doing the right thing. But when I first fell in love with him, truly I had no idea. I really fell head over heels in love, you see. I worshipped the ground he walked upon and was swept away by my feelings. I was very naive and easily persuaded; I know that now. My father always said I was one of the silliest girls in England. However, I would wish you to know that, despite my propensity for folly and frivolity, I am not wholly without principles. Indeed, I am constant and truehearted, at least I could be or would be . . . if I had ever been truly loved. You do believe me, don’t you?” She was not sure why she wanted Alexander to see her as a character she hardly recognised herself, but she could not bear the thought that he would only ever think of her as a wicked creature. It suddenly seemed important to her that she should change his mind and that he should see her in a different light.
“Yes, I do,” he said softly and turned to face her, his blue eyes crinkling as he smiled. “I do not doubt you have a true heart, and I am sure, if you were ever given the chance to be loved in return, you would discover all that you hoped love would be. You might even surprise yourself.”
“You are too generous; it is clear you do not know me very well.”
“Perhaps you do not know yourself as well as you think. Shall we walk?”
He offered his arm, Lydia took it and had to admit, if only to herself, that the sensation of walking with Alexander in such a way was not unpleasant in the least; he was quite like the elder brother she had never had. Perhaps they might be friends after all. She was certainly beginning to understand how Isabella came to rely on him so much. He was so very different from any other man she had ever known; he was a man of his word and a man of action. He was also a very good listener, and she had to admit, she could not help liking someone who let her run on as she wished. If he would only enjoy a better humour, he might be quite attractive. They walked along in companionable silence until they came out onto the Royal Crescent.
“I have been meaning to speak to you, Lydia, to apologise for my behaviour on the evening of the Netherfield ball.”
Lydia remembered that evening with a sentiment closely resembling shame and now recognised that she had behaved badly. “You have nothing to apologise for, believe me. If anyone should be asking for forgiveness, it is I. The truth is, I am a dreadful flirt; you were quite right. I couldn’t bear to see Isabella so happy whilst I felt so miserable.”
“But had I known, if Isabella had informed me sooner of the cruelty you have suffered, I would have behaved with more understanding, and I own I scolded you, not so much because I felt justified in my actions, but because you reminded me of someone else.”
“Are you talking of Miss Hunter, the girl you loved?”
“I confess, I am. But I have given you quite the wrong idea. The fault lay with me. I lost her through my own folly, my own jealous nature.”
“But Mr Fitzalan, we are all inclined to such jealousies, especially in the case of love. It is human nature, and we all have our failings.”
“Well, I now know what my nature can be and I am not proud to admit my weakness. I drove her away because I could not bear another man to talk, dance, or even look her way. She was a great favourite with many young men. Like yourself, she was a girl full of life and spirit, and I wanted to tame her, change her into a person she could not be. I drove her into another’s arms by my own stupidity. You know I am not an easy man in company, and I thought at every moment she might leave me. I thought if I did not cage her she would go and I would never find another. Indeed, I wonder if I ever truly loved her. If I had, surely I could not have behaved so badly. There now, can you see why it is impossible for me to risk any such involvement ever again?”
“But you might find true happiness with Miss Rowlandson. You will learn to curb those feelings, I am sure. If you recognise your mistakes, that is a certain step towards happiness. I too have learned the hard way and with far more misdemeanours than you have ever been guilty of I daresay.”
“You are too generous, Lydia, but you do not know of my mistakes, my thoughtless actions, my folly.”
It is indeed fortunate that you know so little of mine, thought Lydia.
They had walked down Marlborough Buildings and were cutting across the fields. The rain stopped, and with it all confidences seemed to cease. Mr Fitzalan’s expression became as closed as the brown umbrella, which he snapped firmly shut before hooking it over his arm, and all too soon, it seemed to Lydia, they were back in Queen Square and around the corner from their own front door.
On their return, they found Isabella in a state of some excitement. They had received callers whilst they had been gone. “You will never guess who has come to Bath for a visit,” she cried as she grasped Lydia’s hands. “Mr Rowlandson has been here with his mother and Eleanor. He has followed me to Bath! Of course, I am sure he would not have done any such thing had he known of our true circumstances for being here, but to know that he could not stay at home whilst I was here means so much.”
“Isabella, I am happy for you, but I do not know why you are so surprised. I should think he would follow you to the ends of the earth! And Miss Rowlandson is here too? I wonder why she wanted to come?” Lydia asked mischievously, looking up at Alexander. “Perhaps she too is here to set her cap at someone we know.”
Alexander blushed and looked quite out of humour. All his appearance of good nature disappeared with a scowl, and he excused himself, saying he had more letters to write.
“Oh dear,” Lydia sighed, “and we were getting on so well.”
“It is not you, Lydia; sometimes there is no accounting for his black moods,” Isabella whispered. “Why, when I suggested we should now head back for Hertfordshire, he stomped about for five minutes before he declared that he had no intention of removing from Bath. Mind you, it seemed that he said so out of some consideration for you.”
“Why, what did he say?” Lydia asked, intrigued to know what Isabella meant.
“Alexander thinks we should stay a little longer to give you a holiday, and let Mr Darcy decide what is to be done with Wickham and tie up all the loose ends. That way, when you go back to Netherfield, everything will be sorted out and you will have less to worry about.”
“Did Alexander really say all that?”
“Yes, did he not tell you? I imagined that was why he went running out looking for you.”
“No, indeed, he said very little.”
“But we shall go home tomorrow if you wish it. You must be exhausted. It is very selfish of me to expect you to stay here, especially with all the associations Bath will have forevermore.”
“But I am not in a hurry to go home, I assure you, Isabella. All that waits for me in Newcastle is grief and vexation. I would prefer to stay here for a little holiday, truly. I never have been able to make a visit before, and I wish to see everything!”
“Then it is settled. Thank you, dear friend. I know you do this for me; you are too good.”
“No, you should know me better than that.” Lydia laughed. “I intend to make the most of it!”

Wednesday, May 18th
Isabella is surprised that I have not collapsed as a result of the many trials that I have endured this day, but I find that I feel quite restored. My spirits are not low, and I feel a new energy, an excitement for which I cannot account. The relief I feel to have finally seen the proof of Wickham’s infamous marriage on paper is indescribable, though I know that there will be new anxieties to face which I am loath to confront.

But I am not the only person with problems. Poor Alexander—I fear he will never recover from his disappointment, and now I know a little more of the circumstances, it is clear he is a troubled man. Though we are quite different characters, I have discovered he has quite as many flaws as I. And he a clergyman! Well, I take great comfort from the fact that he is not the faultless man I had presumed, and though his errors may not be as great as mine, he is certainly made more human by having some. Alexander’s motives were as heartfelt as mine I am sure. He believed if he did not keep a check on Miss Hunter that she would leave him. His greatest folly was a desire to take too much control, to restrain and restrict the behaviour of the one he loved in an attempt to keep her. And if only I had shown some control over my actions and curbed my obsession with George, perhaps my own great folly could have been avoided. Well, we have both come to a better understanding of life as a result, and though first attachments, it would seem, are not always the best, I hope Alexander will find his heart’s desire one day.

I am glad we are to stay longer in Bath. Isabella will be able to see Freddie, and I will not mind spending a little more time with her brother. I would like to know him better and help him if I may.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING BROUGHT the expected missive from Mr Darcy. He had made good progress, was on Wickham’s trail, and had intelligence of him being seen in the Boar’s Head Tavern in London where he had been in company with friends.

“I daresay that will be Mr Draper and crew—gentlemen of the navy whom I met in a former life,” said Lydia sighing. “I expect he has thrown himself on their mercy, though I should expect they will soon tire of his friendship when they realise he hasn’t a penny to his name.”

“I expect Mr Darcy will soon find him,” said Mr Fitzalan, folding the letter, “though exactly what he means to do with him I cannot guess.”

“I have no doubt he will find him,” Lydia commented. “He has done it before, and I am sure will manage again. Wickham had best beware; I do not think Darcy will be letting him off lightly on this occasion.”
They planned to start the day with a trip to the Pump Rooms, but Isabella was clearly more excited than she had been previously at the thought of meeting Mr Rowlandson. They hastened down to the town, with Alexander in tow urging them both to slow down, and were instantly gratified to see their friends already there and waiting for them under the clock. The usual felicitations preceded a request from Miss Rowlandson to take a turn about the room. She latched onto Isabella and pulled Lydia over to her other side. “We must walk together so we will cause a little stir, will we not? See how the gentlemen cannot help but be drawn in our direction?”
Lydia glanced behind her to see Alexander and Freddie deep in companionable chatter and could have laughed out loud. It was clear they were not impressed by the ladies’ efforts to attract the notice of young men and were completely oblivious to their charms.
“We are planning to go to the Upper Rooms tomorrow evening,” said Eleanor. “I confess I am excited at the prospect. Will you be going too?”
“I am not sure if we will be able. Mrs Wickham is here for her health and has been quite unwell. I do not think she will be up to dancing,” answered Isabella, conscious that Lydia, for all her brave words, might prefer to remain at home.
“Nonsense,” Lydia cried. “I insist that you go, Isabella, and besides, I am sure I shall enjoy some dancing. It will be good for my spirits. I am determined to enjoy my holiday and am feeling much better, I assure you.”
“Can you guess who else is in town?” Eleanor said, but did not wait for an answer. “Ralph Howard, that lovely man who danced with me at Netherfield, is here and not far in Laura Place, which is as elegant as it is exclusive. He has called a few times at HighCross recently and mentioned he was coming here for a couple of weeks, but I daresay we will not see him.”
“I am sure you will,” responded Lydia as she and Isabella exchanged glances. Her mention of Ralph Howard calling at HighCross had not been missed by either of them. “Bath is a big town, but it seems everyone follows the same pursuits, just like they do in Brighton.”
“Oh, I should like to go to Brighton,” Eleanor declared, “but there is never enough money for too many expeditions.”
“What are you talking of, my dear?” asked her brother Freddie.
“I was just saying I should like to go to Brighton, but visits are so expensive, it is impossible to go everywhere one should like.”
“Aye,” said Freddie, “but you were as keen to come to Bath as I, were you not, Eleanor?”
She blushed at his words and quickly turned the conversation to join Lydia and Isabella, who were discussing the morning gowns of the fashionables.
“We are going for a walk this afternoon,” Isabella commented. “Nowhere too far away, just around and about. Would you like to join us?”
“I would love to, but unfortunately I am engaged. I have an appointment with a mantua maker. She is just going over an old gown, but I would like to look my best. I will take mother; she is very good at making decisions about clothes. The journey was so fatiguing that she is resting this morning, but she has assured me she will be well enough for a little trip out later.”
“And now, Miss Isabella,” prompted Freddie, “you promised me you would assist me in procuring a glass of this superior water I have heard so much about. Tell me, am I supposed to drink it all in one go?”
The rest of the morning passed as well as expected, and Lydia was glad to see her friend thoroughly enjoying the company of her handsome beau who was as attentive as ever. However, she was not impressed at all by Mr Fitzalan’s efforts with Miss Rowlandson. He clearly needed more than a hint if his romance was to progress any further or if he was to divert Miss Rowlandson’s attentions from a certain quarter. Lydia decided she must try again to give him a little advice on the best ways to capture a young lady’s affections.
In the afternoon, Isabella and Lydia set out for their walk to promenade on the Crescent Fields, which lay in front of the elegant sweep of the Royal Crescent. This was a popular place for a stroll, and there were large numbers of people taking in the air, their fellow creatures, and any new scandal to be had. Isabella was just asking Lydia what she thought Mr Darcy would do once he got his hands on Captain Wickham when the former stopped abruptly and froze, rooted to the spot. Lydia soon followed Isabella’s astonished regard as she contemplated the spectacle before her.
Walking towards them, arm in arm, were Miss Rowlandson and Ralph Howard with Eleanor’s mother trailing just a little behind them. Miss Rowlandson leaned on Mr Howard’s arm, at once expressing her intimacy and familiarity, whilst he held her parasol, taking care to shade her skin from the glare of the afternoon sun. Eleanor greeted Isabella with open arms, declaring what an honour it was to meet again and swiftly presented her companion.
“Ralph Howard at your service, ladies,” he said bowing deeply. “I am delighted to meet you. Any friends of Miss Rowlandson are always a joy to meet with. I trust this will be an occurrence to be oft repeated.”
“I misunderstood,” said Isabella, who was shocked to see the obvious understanding between her friend and Mr Howard, “I thought you were engaged with your mantua maker this afternoon.”
“Yes, but the sunshine and Mr Howard called us out. Indeed, we could not stay inside on such a day,” enthused Miss Rowlandson, “and a walk is always such a felicitous occupation for diverting conversation, is it not?”
Mrs Rowlandson looked keen to be gone and excused them all as soon as she could. “There may just be time to catch your appointment, Eleanor, if we hurry. Mr Howard is so kind to accompany us. Forgive me, Miss Fitzalan, but we must take our leave. Shall we see you tomorrow at the Rooms? I do hope so. Mr Howard will be attending; he has promised to be of our party. We shall see you there, no doubt.”
Isabella watched them walk away and shook her head. “I have never seen anything so brazen in my life.”
“Do you think she has set her cap at Mr Howard?” Lydia asked. “Poor Alexander, he will have his heart broken again.”
“Perhaps, though I am not so certain that he admires her as much as you imagine.” Isabella shook her head and her fair curls stirred in the summer breeze. “I do not think his heart will be broken. However, I do know he needs someone to love him, a girl with a true affectionate heart.”
“Well, I am not convinced that Eleanor Rowlandson is the lady to fit that description,” Lydia remarked.
“That is true. She has wasted no time in making her object plain.”
“Wherever will you find a girl for him, Isabella? For it is certain, he will never find her on his own!”
“I cannot think,” came her answer. “Indeed, it is a puzzle to bemuse us all.”