Prologue

Posted on 2012-05-16

She looked through the window of her carriage. Though the rugged Derbyshire countryside was unfolding before her, she was barely aware of it. Lost in her thoughts, she did not see Lambton's neat rows of houses, nor the beautiful park the carriage had just entered. All she could see was him. The first time she had seen him, the first time she had talked to him, the first dance she had with him. She saw the beautiful twinkle in his eyes when he laughed, the way he was always dressed to impress. All the things that had her fall head over heels in love with him.

Then she pictured the day she had decided she would marry him, and the time she had spent in London with him, and her Aunt Gardiner, trying to find a suitable dress. Finally, she remembered the wedding. She had been so happy that day. Everything had looked so perfect, even though it was not at all what she had imagined when she had dreamed about that special day as a little girl. She had the life she had always wanted--she was marrying the man she loved and who loved her.

How long had it lasted? She could not say. The first few weeks, she had been so delirious with happiness she barely remembered anything happening that was not wonderful. After the first month though, she had started to realise that her husband was not as perfect as she had thought him to be. Oh, she had known he had faults, but she had flattered herself into thinking he had changed his ways for her. How wrong she had been! Not only had he not changed at all, but she had soon realised the man she had fallen in love with had never existed. He had played a role, hidden his true self when in front of her and her family; though if she were honest with herself, not everybody had been pleased about her marriage. Her father, to name just one, had been most unhappy about her choice of husband. But she had refused to see reason at the time, and she was paying for it now. She was not the same woman who had left her family and friends--was it only six months ago? She was disillusioned and bitter. Love did not exist after all. Men just played with you, making you believe that they were the gentlemen you wanted them to be, until they had what they wanted from you. But you were just another object they possessed, a toy they used and discarded at will. She would not be deceived anymore, and she would try to make sure no other woman would be hurt by another one of those villains.

Coming back to the present, she realised the vehicle was not moving anymore. She had finally reached her destination. After staring at Pemberley for a few seconds more, Mrs Lydia Wickham alighted from her hired carriage, and walked to the door with determination.

Chapter 1

Elizabeth Darcy was sitting in the library when she was roused from her book by a slight knock on the door, followed by Mrs Reynolds' entrance.

"Mrs Darcy, I'm sorry to disturb you but a visitor has just arrived…"

Elizabeth could not help but notice that the housekeeper seemed uneasy. Something about this visitor was obviously bothering her.
"What is it, Mrs Reynolds? Is something the matter? Does this person want to see Mr. Darcy? You know he went to see his uncle in Matlock over some estate matter. Could you not tell this man to come back in a day or two?"

"Well… She wants to see you, ma'am. The visitor says she is Mrs Wickham."

Elizabeth stared at the housekeeper, not certain she had understood her correctly. Surely, Lydia would never dare come to Pemberley uninvited. But then again, knowing Lydia, it would not be so surprising.

"Is she…is she alone?"

"As far as I can tell, ma'am."

That, at least, was a relief. She did not know what she would have done had Lydia arrived accompanied by her husband. She knew she could never refuse one of her sisters, but just the thought of Wickham was enough to make her blood boil. She could never impose him on Fitzwilliam and Georgiana, not even for her sister's sake. With a sigh, she stood up and made her way to the door.

"Well, my dear Mrs Reynolds, we'd better go and see what has brought my sister here. Could you please show her to my sitting room and make sure the blue room is ready? It is her favourite colour and I am certain the furniture there will delight her."

"I will see to it at once, Mrs Darcy."

After Mrs Reynolds left her, Elizabeth waited a few minutes to give her time to carry out her instructions, then walked towards her sitting room. When she reached the door, she paused for a minute, wondering again what had brought her sister to Pemberley. Then she put a smile on her face and entered the room. Lydia was standing at one of the windows, looking at the garden.

"Lydia! I did not expect you!"

"Lizzy! I'm so happy to see you!" Lydia ran to her sister and quickly hugged her before she pulled back to examine her clothes.

"Dear me, look at your gown. It must cost more than my whole wardrobe put together! You must wonder what I'm doing here! Well, you see, George had to go to Bath for a while, on some business or other. He said I could not go with him because I would be so bored, so I just thought I would come and see you instead! Is this not a nice surprise?"

Elizabeth released the breath she had not realised she had been holding. Wickham really was not there. As long as Lydia was alone, she knew she could deal with the situation, even if her husband would not be happy to discover her sister had decided to pay them a surprise visit. He had always said that, as long as she was alone, he would not mind Lydia visiting them since she was, after all, her sister. But Elizabeth was certain on this instance, he would not appreciate the imposition. As much as he liked and respected his uncle, Fitzwilliam always found talking over estate matters with him to be exhausting, and Elizabeth knew he would come back expecting some quiet time with her and Georgiana. Knowing Lydia, some quiet time was probably the farthest thing on her mind. As if to prove her right, her sister continued her discourse:

"How grand you are now, Lizzy! We all knew Mr. Darcy to be rich for sure, but I thought I would die when I saw your house! And such beautiful rooms! Of course, I only saw the entrance and this room but the furniture must have cost a fortune! Do you have a ballroom? Of course you must have a ballroom in such a huge house! I'm sure you have balls and parties every night, though you cannot have as many people here as you must have in London! Oh, we shall have so much fun!"

She then stopped for a second, as she seemed to be struck by an awful thought.

"Mr Darcy does allow you to have parties, does he? I did not think of it first, but he is such a serious fellow, I do not think I saw him smile even once. I would not be surprised if he did not know how to! Well, we will have fun in spite of him, I am determined! And he can glower all he wants, it will not change our mind! Lord, Lizzy, are you not happy that I came? I am sure you would have died of boredom without me!"

Elizabeth looked at her sister with wide eyes. She had become so used to the calm and rational nature of both her husband and her sister-in-law that she had forgotten how wild Lydia could be. If she did not stop her, she was certain Lydia would continue happily in this manner until it was time for dinner.

"My dear Lydia! I am certain you must want to rest and to refresh yourself after such a long journey! Would you like me to show you to your room? It should be ready by now."

To her relief, Lydia accepted, and Elizabeth guided her through the numerous corridors to the guest wing where the blue room was indeed ready. After a few minutes spent admiring every piece of furniture in the room, Lydia declared herself delighted with it and ready to take a bath. Elizabeth was happy to leave her to it, and went back downstairs in search of Georgiana. She owed it to her sister-in-law to warn her of Lydia's presence at Pemberley. Then she realised she should probably write to her husband to warn him too. He would not be happy but he would at least have time to prepare himself to endure Lydia for an undetermined length of time.

Chapter 2

Posted on 2012-05-23

The smile vanished from Lydia's face as soon as Elizabeth left the room. Now that she was alone, she did not have to pretend that she was still the same old Lydia everybody thought she was. Well, almost everybody. He knew she did not laugh or dance or gossip anymore. He had made sure to crush that out of her.

Slowly, she looked around her. She had not lied to her sister earlier; it really was a beautiful room. One thing was certain--at least Elizabeth would never suffer from her husband's inability to hold onto money. She was sure she had never seen a room so richly decorated, and from what she had glimpsed of other rooms, the whole house was similarly furnished. At one time, all of this would have been enough to send her into a frenzy that could only have been surpassed by her mother. Now however, though she still noticed all the details, she was indifferent to it.
Lydia went to the bed and sat down. Soon, the servants would be there with everything needed for her bath. She would then make sure to be left alone. She needed time to think. If she wanted to save her sister from being used and hurt as she herself had been, she needed a plan.

Elizabeth was watching her sister-in-law carefully. Georgiana had listened to her explanations about Lydia's arrival with very little reaction. Outwardly, she seemed composed. But Elizabeth knew her enough by now to realise that was probably not the case. Assuredly, after a few minutes, Georgiana spoke.

"Do not worry about me Elizabeth; I am well, I promise. I will not lie to you and say that I am not a bit worried about meeting her, but I am not upset. Even if, as you told me, she does not seem to realise what kind of man she has married, I cannot but pity her. She might not know his true nature yet, but she will one day. I know how that hurts Lizzy, so I shall do my best to be her friend and be there for her when that day comes."

"I am really proud of you, Georgiana. I know it must not be easy to hear his name, especially related to my sister. I do hope Lydia will realise how lucky she is to have won your friendship even before meeting you."

Georgiana blushed at her sister's praise. She greatly admired Elizabeth and was always happy to gain her approbation.

"Thank you Elizabeth, but I do not feel I am doing anything extraordinary. You know, after… after Ramsgate, I was so hurt and I had no one to talk to. I know Fitzwilliam would have listened to me but I also knew he was feeling responsible and I just could not bear to make him feel even more guilty. You know how he is, Lizzy. He would have blamed himself and it would have made me feel worse instead of better. I really wished I had a sister then, or a friend I could trust. So, you see, I am just trying to save your sister from feeling the same way."

"And this is exactly why I am proud of you Georgiana. Most people would think 'I was alone when it happened to me and I dealt with it, so she can too.' But not you, my dear sister. You think of how you can help her bear it all, no matter that it may hurt you all over again. You really are one of the kindest persons I have ever known, and it is an honour to call you sister."

Elizabeth rose from her seat, and bent to kiss Georgiana's cheek before leaving the room. That discussion had gone much better than she had anticipated. Fitzwilliam's sister was really growing into a wonderful woman. Now she just had to write her letter to Fitzwilliam, and then she would have to see to the plans for dinner. By the time she finished, Lydia would likely be in need of attention again. She just hoped that the fatigue from the journey would catch up to her sister and that she would go to her room early.

Lydia was lying on her bed after having taken her bath. She had dismissed the maid that had come to help her, and she was now deep in thought. When she had made her decision, it had seemed simple enough--she would go to Pemberley and save her sister from the fate that undoubtedly awaited her. Now that she was there though, she suddenly realised that it would not be so easy. Elizabeth seemed to be happy, which meant that she had not yet realised what her husband was really like. Lydia also knew Lizzy to be extremely headstrong and it would not be easy to persuade her that the man she had married was not who she thought him to be.

What was surprising though, was that Mr Darcy did not seem to hide his true nature, or at least, not as well as her own husband. He was a very disagreeable man and made no effort to please people. No matter how hard she tried, Lydia could not understand how her sister could have made such an error in judgement. Lizzy had seemed to see right through him at the beginning, so how he could have fooled her and changed her opinion so much that she actually agreed to marry him was a mystery. Or maybe she did know and it was the money after all. But it seemed so out of character for Lizzy that even Lydia could not believe it. She had to have married him for love. Which brought Lydia back to the beginning--how could her sister have married such a man, and how could she save her from having her spirit destroyed? Because there was one thing Lydia was sure about, her brother-in-law was a cruel man and she had to protect her sister from him.

With a sigh, Lydia sat up and looked around her. The sun had set while she was thinking and she realised that it would soon be time for dinner. She had to get ready quickly if she did not want to be late. She rang for her maid, and prepared to play the role of the silly girl once again.

Chapter 3

Fitzwilliam Darcy dismounted his horse, left the animal in the care of a groom and quickly walked up the steps leading to his house. He had received his wife's message the night before and had decided to return home a day early in order to help her cope with her sister. He also wanted to be there for Georgiana, as he had no doubt that Lydia's presence would distress her. He had just finished his business with his uncle and was in fact glad of the excuse to leave earlier than had been planned. He was missing Elizabeth and just wanted to be back at her side as quickly as possible. As he entered the house, he was greeted by Mrs Reynolds.

"Mr Darcy, we did not expect you until tomorrow! Welcome home, sir!"

"Thank you, Mrs Reynolds. Is Mrs Darcy still in the breakfast room or has she left already on her morning walk?"

"She is just finishing breakfast, sir, as is Miss Darcy." Mrs Reynolds hesitated before adding: "Mrs Wickham is expected to join them soon."

"Do not worry, Mrs Reynolds, Mrs Darcy sent me a message warning me of her sister's unexpected visit. If there is nothing further, I shall join the ladies for a cup of coffee."

"Very well, sir."

Mr Darcy then headed to the breakfast room. Signalling the servant standing at the door not to announce him, he entered the room soundlessly. He was pleased to see that, contrary to what his housekeeper had told him, his wife was in fact alone. His sister must have already finished her breakfast and gone to her piano lesson, and Elizabeth had obviously dismissed the servants. It was just as well with him, since he would be able to greet his wife with a proper kiss rather than the socially accepted kiss on the hand. He smiled as he noticed the book she was engrossed in.

"So who is it this time? Shakespeare or Wordsworth?"

Elizabeth, startled out of her reading, looked up, her face lighting up when she saw her husband standing in the doorway.

"Fitzwilliam!" She quickly stood and ran into his waiting arms. "We were not expecting you until tomorrow!"

"Well, my business with my uncle was finished and after reading your letter I decided to leave early." Bending down to bring his mouth near her ear, he added in a whisper: "I missed you, my love."

"I missed you to."

Mr Darcy then took advantage of their unexpected solitude and kissed his wife with all the abandon that he usually only allowed himself in the privacy of their chambers. As both of them got lost in their passion, they did not hear the door open and someone enter the room.

Lydia awoke that morning determined to find out all the evidence she needed to prove that Mr Darcy was as much of a rascal as her husband was, thus saving her sister from her own fate. Luckily for her, Lizzy was rich now and Lydia was certain she had quite a lot of jewels. If the sapphire necklace she had worn the night before was any indication, they could make some good money by selling them. Then both of them would settle in some nice house somewhere where they would not have to see either of their husbands ever again. She could already picture it in her mind, Elizabeth, grateful to her for revealing her husband's true nature, their escape to some far away town, maybe even on the Continent, and their new life, once again filled with laughter and dances and balls. Lydia would never again make the mistake of trusting a man, but it did not mean she could not have some fun. In fact, after everything she had been through, she thought she was entitled to do so. And she had to admit to herself that having Elizabeth owing her liberty to her and looking up to her as her saviour, when before she had always thought herself so above her, was very appealing indeed.

After having finally decided on what to wear - Lydia was finding it more difficult than usual as her wardrobe certainly did not match the luxury surrounding her - she went down to breakfast. As the servant opened the door for her, there was nothing to warn her of the scene she stumbled upon--her sister, locked in a passionate embrace with a man. For a second, Lydia thought that Elizabeth was having an affair with one of the neighbours. The man in front of her could not be Mr Darcy since he was away on business until the next day. But a closer inspection indeed identified him as the Master of the house. Lydia was a little taken aback; she had not expected him back early. On the contrary, she had thought Lizzy would receive a message from him announcing some complications and delaying his return. It was, after all, what usually happened when her husband went on business. She had soon discovered that these so called business trips had not much to do with work, and a lot to do with women. But then, she supposed that Mr Darcy might sometimes have real estate business to see after since he obviously was much better at earning and keeping money than Wickham. It would explain his early return, since he did not have a willing woman warming his bed, he needed his wife to tend to his baser needs.

That was another thing Lydia had learned from Wickham. Men, no matter their age or social standing, were all only interested in one thing . . . their own pleasure. They would seek it everywhere, anywhere, no matter the consequences. She had learned it the hard way, one night her husband had come back drunk and in a bad mood. She had just started realising that he might not be what she had thought him to be, and that night had definitely crushed her last hopes that her husband cared for her as much as she cared for him. He had always been a little rough, but until then, he had at least pretended to try to give her some pleasure. He even had succeeded at times, mostly in the beginning. But that night, he had not cared whether he hurt her or not, all that had mattered to him had been to find his completion. Then, as she lay on their bed with tears in her eyes, asking him why he was being so mean, he had laughed, telling her that he was fed up with pretending to be the dutiful husband. He had then added that she had a lot to learn on how to please a man, and that he was off to find a real woman.

From that day on, he had strived to belittle her every time he was in her company, laughing at her stupidity, telling her she was only good for one thing, and not even very good at that. He had started to bring back friends, men he had met while drinking and gambling, and they had all joined in her humiliation, laughing at her and demeaning her, encouraged to do so by her husband. She had endured it for months, too ashamed to seek help from her family. Then, one night he had come home with two giggling women, and she had finally broken down. She had shouted at him, in tears, demanding to know why he had married her if he did not love her. His answer had crushed her. He had never intended to marry her, had only wanted to have a bit of fun with her while hiding from his debtors. He told her spitefully that the only reason he had married her was because Mr Darcy had forced his hand and he had acquiesced because he needed the money.

That had been the final straw for her. As she watched the last remains of her life crumble to dust around her, she had made her decision. She would take what little possessions she had, and leave this place forever. It was at that moment, while packing the few gowns she owned, that an idea had formed in her mind. For a while now, her opinion of men had been extremely low. Her husband's mistreatment of her, coupled with the attitude she had witnessed in the men Wickham sometimes brought home with him, had convinced her that none of them could be trusted. The only exceptions to that rule, in her mind, were her father, her uncle Gardiner, and maybe Mr Bingley. All the others were to be avoided at all cost. That was why she would go to Pemberley, and convince Elizabeth to leave with her. Jane might be safe with her own husband, but Lizzy certainly was not. She was, after all, married to the very man who was responsible for her misery and that man could not be anything but cruel. Had he not used his power to force Wickham to marry her, all the while knowing he did not love her and would make her miserable? For since they had grown up together he had to have known about his vices. Yes, such a man was definitely heartless and probably violent, and he was always haughty and cold. So taking what little money she had found, she had hired a carriage and had made her way south.

Lydia was brought back from her grim thoughts by a giggle. Lost in her memories, she had forgotten for a while where she was. Elizabeth and Mr Darcy were still oblivious to her presence, and he had started to kiss his way down her neck. She was obviously enjoying his attentions, eyes closed, and a small smile on her lips. Lydia found herself pitying her. Lizzy was still so naïve, believing in love and trusting her husband. All of this would change soon enough, as soon as she would manage to gather evidence against him. Then, her sister's eyes would be open, and Mr Darcy would no longer be in a position to hurt her. Taking a big breath, she schooled her features into a big smile. It would not do to raise his suspicions before she could prove his deceit.

"Good morning Lizzy, Mr Darcy! What a surprise! We all thought you would be away until tomorrow! Well, you must be surprised too, for I'm sure you did not expect to see me here! I don't know if Lizzy had time to tell you yet, but my husband is away on business, so I thought it would be a good joke to come and surprise you all! Lord, am I hungry! Is there any of that strawberry preserve left? I'm dying for it!"

While seating herself at the table and pouring herself a cup of tea, she could see, from the corner of her eye, the blush of mortification on her sister's cheeks, and what looked like some red spots on Mr Darcy's own cheeks. She paused for a second. Surely, he was not embarrassed by his behaviour? Her experience told her that men were always proud of their accomplishments, and certainly never embarrassed if caught while seducing a woman. No, it must have been a trick of the light. Lydia mentally shrugged, took a piece of toast, and started on her breakfast in earnest.

Chapter 4

Posted on 2012-05-30

The whole morning had passed and Lydia was getting impatient. The night before, she had finally decided on a plan. It was simple, really. She would somehow sneak inside Mr Darcy's office, search his desk, and find any paper that would prove his true nature to her sister. Anything would do really - a few words from a mistress, a receipt for any debt he could have incurred while gambling. She knew that, as far as money was concerned, he was not as bad as her husband. He would have lost Pemberley long ago if that had been the case. But that did not mean he did not gamble, just that he knew when to cut his losses. And as for mistresses, well, a man of his means must have quite a few of them. If Wickham, with just his good looks, could seduce as many women as he did, she had no doubt that it must be even easier for Mr Darcy, who had both looks and money.

But her plan had been thwarted by Mr Darcy's early return. So, instead of starting on her mission of mercy, she had been stuck all morning with Elizabeth and Miss Darcy, listening to their boring conversation about a book she had never even heard of, and pretending to re-trim a bonnet she could not care less about. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Miss Darcy had left them in search of the stupid book so that they could find out the exact quote they had been discussing. She had a few moments alone with her sister, and, since she could not put her plan into action yet, she decided she could at least try to subtly point out to Elizabeth that her husband's attitude was not what it should be.

"What a surprise it was to see Mr Darcy this morning! I was certain you said he was only to return tomorrow!"

"Yes, but, as he told you himself, his business was finished and he had no reason to stay away."

"I suppose he must be absent all the time! I mean, with such a big house and a big estate, I suppose he must have a lot of business!"

"He does have to leave from time to time, but I would not say he is always away! On the contrary, he does his best to stay with us as much as possible, and the few times he has had to leave since we were married, he has kept his trips as short as possible. In fact, it is not the first time that he comes back earlier than expected. He always tries to if he can."

Lydia tried not to show her surprise at what she was hearing. It was not at all what she had envisioned. Based on her experience--her husband had found every opportunity to leave their home and, in the end, did not even bother to find an excuse--she thought that Mr Darcy would be the same. Absences would be even easier for him since he had all this estate business to see after. How did he meet with his mistresses if he never left for business trips? But then, maybe he kept them on the estate? He was a rich man after all, and he certainly had the means to keep them at an easy distance. And the estate was big enough that he could hide them from his wife. With this new idea in mind, Lydia started her questioning again.

"He must be away often during the day,then, isn't he?"

Obviously, she was not as subtle as she had thought, as Elizabeth was starting to look at her questioningly.

"Well, he does have to visit tenants sometimes, to settle quarrels or oversee some repairs he has ordered, but when he does, I usually go with him. That is so I can bring food or clothes to those in need and Georgiana also comes with us if she is not busy with her studies. Lydia, why all these questions? Does Fitzwilliam make you uncomfortable? Do you wish him to be away?"

"No! Why are you saying that? I was just concerned for you, that's all! I have heard that those grand men are often away from their home, leaving their wives all alone, and I was just worried that it was the same for you! I'm glad it's not!"

Lydia did not know what to think anymore. Mr Darcy had to have mistresses, all her knowledge of men told her that, and yet, if he was rarely on business trips and always brought his wife with him when he left for the day, then when did he meet them?

She had little time to dwell on it as the object of her reflections entered the room. Lydia observed him as he strode confidently towards the sofa where his wife was sitting. She watched him as he lightly kissed Elizabeth's hand. The confidence she saw in him reminded her of her husband. But there was something on his face, in his eyes, when he looked at Lizzy that she could not name. Something that she had never seen on Wickham's face. Something foreign to her knowledge of men. She did not have time to consider it, though, as Mrs Reynolds came in to announce that luncheon was served. But she swore to herself that she would think on all she had learned that day as soon as she could have some time to herself.

That night, as they were lying in their bed, sated, Mr Darcy asked his wife the question that had been in his mind most of the day.

"Elizabeth, is anything the matter? You have been very quiet today, and it is not like you at all."

"Are you implying that I am usually a chatterbox, sir?"

He could see the teasing in her eyes which were illuminated by the moonlight coming from the windows, and he laughed. "No, I am only saying that you are usually a lively conversationalist and that today I have barely heard you say two words, either during lunch or dinner." He then added softly, slowly caressing her cheek, "I know you, Elizabeth, and I can see that something is bothering you. What is it, my love?"

She snuggled closer to him before replying, "You are right. I have not been myself today. Lydia asked me a lot of questions this morning. She wanted to know whether you were often absent from home. It was not exactly the questions but more the way she asked them--almost as though she was expecting the answer to be yes and my reaction to be either sad or angry. Maybe I am imagining all this, but it was like she wanted me to be unhappy with you. She seemed very surprised to learn that we spend as much time together as possible. And there is something else, Fitzwilliam. I am really worried about the way her husband has been treating her. I am pretty certain I saw some bruises under her sleeve and it is not like Lydia to be wearing long sleeves when it is so warm outside, even though they are in fashion in London."

By the time she had finished her explanation, she was near tears. Looking at her husband and, seeing the guilt on his face, she quickly added, "Fitzwilliam, this is not your fault! I thought we had worked through this already! You cannot be held responsible for the actions of either of them! Wickham knew what he was doing and even if Lydia did not know his character, she should have known better than to elope and live unmarried with a man as she did! And I know you were reluctant to force them to marry but there was no other way. You did what had to be done! If you want to blame someone, then blame Wickham for being the villain he is or blame Lydia's stupidity or my parents' lack of concern for our education and upbringing. Even blame Fate if you will, but do not blame yourself!"

He smiled sadly. "Still, I should have warned your father and all your neighbours about Wickham. I should have found a way to do so without compromising Georgiana. But I do agree with you that I did not have much choice once he eloped with your sister, though I still feel that I failed you."

As she was about to answer, he put two fingers on her lips to silence her. "I also know you do not think that I did and I am very grateful to you. As for your sister, I admit I did notice she had an odd expression on her face whenever she looked at me, and her gaiety seems to be a little forced. I understand why you are worried but there is nothing you can do unless she confides in you."

Elizabeth sighed. "I know you are right, but I can feel something really worries her, and it pains me to see it."

Mr Darcy knew no words would make his wife feel better, so he just held her tighter, kissing her brow and letting his love comfort her. And before long, both drifted off to sleep.

In her own chambers, Lydia Wickham was forming a plan out of desperation. Since Mr Darcy did not seem to visit any mistresses during the day, she had concluded that he must do so at night. She would wait until the wee hours of the morning, when the whole household was sure to be asleep, and she would go to his bedchamber to ascertain her theory. She knew it was risky, as she would have a hard time explaining why she was there if caught. But she felt it was the only way she could prove that Lizzy's husband was not the man she thought he was. Once she had checked that he was not in his bed, she would wake her sister, drag her to Mr Darcy's chambers and show her the truth. She knew Lizzy would probably try to concoct a good reason for his absence. Denial was, after all, a logical reaction, she knew that well enough. She would make Lizzy face the truth and once she did, Lydia would be there to console her. Then they would escape that place and start a new life for themselves, far away from all those lying men.

Chapter 5

Lydia walked as quietly as possible down the long corridor that led to the Master's bedchamber. It was two in the morning and the whole house seemed sound asleep. She stopped for a second, her heart beating wildly, when the floor creaked under her step. When nothing stirred, she began again. Within a few minutes, she was standing in front of Mr Darcy's door. Taking a deep breath, she tried the door as quietly as possible and found it unlocked. Relieved, she listened intently and hearing not a sound, pushed the door open just wide enough to slip inside. Then closing the door soundlessly, she turned to face the bed. She could see it in the middle of the room, illuminated by the moonlight coming from the window. It was very imposing. She stared at it for a long time before releasing the breath she did not remember holding. A small smile started to form on her lips. She had been right!

For a minute or two after her earlier conversation with her sister she had doubted, but her distrust of men was too ingrained for it to last any longer. She had known that if she deliberated long enough, she would figure out how Darcy did it. Of course, he had a reputation to maintain. He would not be as obvious as her own husband was as he had to be more discreet. And since the Darcys could still be considered newlyweds, it would not do to have Mrs Darcy appear less than satisfied with him.

Proud of her deductive skills, Lydia made her way to the door separating the Master's room from the Mistress'. All she had to do now was to wake Elizabeth, show her the empty bed and convince her that he was not away on any true emergency. She was certain that would be Lizzy's explanation for her husband's absence. Then she would persuade her that leaving Mr. Darcy would be for the best.

Even though the curtains were drawn, she could make out a dark shadow where she supposed the bed to be. Remembering that her sister favoured the right side of the bed, Lydia stumbled her way to the other side of the room. Then, slowly, she started to shake her sister awake.

"Lizzy! Wake up!" Elizabeth stirred but did not wake. "Wake up Lizzy!"

This time, Elizabeth opened her eyes sleepily. Seeing her sister, she sat up before recalling her state of undress and grabbing the sheet to cover her nakedness. "Lydia? What is it? Are you well? Is something the matter?"

"I am well. I just need to show you something."

"Now? Can it not wait until morning?"

"No, it can not!" Then, remembering her sister's state of undress, Lydia exclaimed: "Since when do you sleep naked?"

Before Elizabeth could do anything more than utter a few sputtering sounds, Lydia tugged at her arm, "Well, never mind! Put your nightgown on and hurry!"

Elizabeth sighed. She knew that when her sister was in such a state, there was nothing one could do but indulge her. Starting to slide from the bed slowly so as not to wake her husband, she found her efforts were all for naught. Darcy awoke the moment he sensed she was not next to him.

"Elizabeth?"

"Shhh! All is well! Lydia needs me to look at something but I shall be back before long."

"Promise?" He was obviously still half asleep or he would have demanded more of an explanation. However, he sounded so much like a little boy that Elizabeth's heart melted.

"Yes, promise"

She smoothed a curl away from his brow then turned to face her sister.

"Lydia?"

Lydia had backed to the middle of the room, shock written all over her face. She was staring at a point beyond Elizabeth's shoulder.

All Elizabeth's concerns about Lydia came back. Something was definitely wrong with her sister. "Lydia? Are you certain you are well? Please, talk to me!"

But Lydia did not hear. Mr Darcy was in Elizabeth's bed? He was not with another woman? That was impossible! She must be hallucinating! Or maybe her sister had a lover after all. It could not be Mr Darcy!

"Is that… is that Mr Darcy?"

"Of course it is!"

"But…but…but it cannot be! What is he doing here?"

By then, Elizabeth was thoroughly confused. Before she could say anything, however, Lydia was speaking again.

"Husbands don't sleep in their wives' bed! They…they take their pleasure and then they leave to gamble or drink or…or meet with their mistresses." She began to rage, "Where do you keep your mistress, Mr Darcy? When do you see her? I know you must have one, you must!"

Lydia lost all semblance of composure. Her mistreatment at her husband's hands, her incomprehension of Mr Darcy's ways, all those confusing feelings, it had all become too much for her and she became hysterical. Suddenly, unable to take it anymore, she turned and bolted out of the room.

Chapter 6

Posted on 2012-06-06

Elizabeth sat staring wide eyed at the door. She could not comprehend what had just happened. Suddenly, she felt her husband's hand on her shoulder. Unbeknownst to her, he had awoken completely and was now awaiting her reaction. He did not have to wait long.

"Oh God! What did he do to her? What did that monster do to my baby sister?"

Darcy did not know what to say. Fresh waves of guilt coursed through him, and all he could do was hold his wife tight as the tears started. After a while, when she had calmed a little, he said softly, "You should go to your sister."

Elizabeth nodded. Quickly donning her nightgown and her robe, she went towards the door but stopped before reaching it and turned to look at her husband. She knew what he was thinking and she also knew there was nothing she could do about it. No matter how many times she told him none of it was his fault, he would always suffer the guilt. It was just the way he was, and she loved him for it. She would just have to show him again that she did not blame him. So she swiftly ran back to him, took his head in her hands and kissed him with all the love she felt.

"I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy."

Before he could reply, she was gone.

Lydia was pacing her room. Nothing made sense anymore. Mr Darcy had to be cruel, just like any other man or he would not have forced her to marry Wickham, and that meant he could not care for his wife! If he did not beat her as yet, then he had to, at the least, cheat on her! And yet, he rarely spent time away from home and if he did, he made sure it did not last long, or took Lizzy with him. And at night when, in her experience men were at their worst, he slept in his wife's bed instead of joining his friends to get drunk and bed as many women as possible!

Lydia's thoughts abruptly ended when she heard a knock on her door. Soon after, it opened to reveal her sister.

"Lydia? May I come in?"

The tenderness and worry she could hear in Elizabeth's words were her undoing. All the fear and the pain she had kept buried inside came to the surface and she could hold the tears no longer. Great sobs racked her frame and a few seconds later, she could feel her sister's arms close around her.

For a long time, all that could be heard in the room were the sounds of Lydia's crying and Elizabeth's whispered words of comfort. After a while, Lydia managed to calm and Elizabeth rang for tea. When the sleepy servant had retired once more, she seated her sister in a nice comfy chair with a warm cup of tea in her hand and began to question her.

"Lydia? Do you think you could tell me what has happened to hurt you so?" When all the answer she got was lowered eyes and silent tears, she asked hesitantly, "Is it Mr Wickham? Did…did he hurt you?"

Once again, her questions were met with silence. "Lydia, please talk to me! I cannot help you unless you will confide in me!"

Slowly, Lydia started to tell her story. She talked about her disillusions, about her humiliation, about all the hurt and pain she had suffered because of her husband. She told of the mockery and the beatings, the gambling and the cheating, the drunken abuse that had become her daily, and nightly, routine.

"And then, a few days ago, he told me had never wanted to marry me-- that he had been paid to do so by your husband! I have never liked Mr Darcy but when I heard it was because of him that I was married to that monster, I realised how truly cruel he was and I came here to save you! I do not know how he hides it but I know he must be like Wickham, maybe even worse since he is so rich! He probably has dozens of mistresses; I just have to find out how he can be so discreet about it! He has to be exposed as the villain he really is!"

Elizabeth was horrified by Lydia's account of her marriage. She had known Wickham was a scoundrel, but she had no idea he could be so vicious. Her heart ached for her sister's sufferings. But no matter what had happened to Lydia, she could not let her blame her husband, especially since she had brought it on herself by leaving with the scoundrel.

"Lydia, I am truly sorry that you had to go through all this and I hate that you endured so much pain. Wickham is the worst of villains and I really hope that one day, he will pay for all the sufferings he has caused you. But I will not let you blame Fitzwilliam for what happened!"

"How can you say that? He forced me to marry Wickham, it is his fault!"

"His fault?! Forced you ?! Lydia, you are the one who eloped with Wickham, though you should have known better! You are the one who did not see any wrong in living unmarried with a man! And when Fitzwilliam finally found you, you are the one who refused to leave your dear George! Yes, he had to pay Wickham, but he did not do it to hurt you, he did it because it was the only way to save your reputation and our family's! Did you not think that the rest of our sisters would be hard pressed to find husbands after what you did? My dear husband already feels like he has failed me, that he should have done something to prevent it, but I will not let you lay this charge on him! If you want to blame someone, then blame yourself for your total want of propriety!"

When she saw her sister's shocked face though, she regretted the harsh way she had made her point. Yes, she wanted Lydia to take her responsibilities, but the poor girl had paid dearly for her mistake. What Lydia needed now was compassion, so she immediately softened her tone.

"Lydia, dearest, I am sorry. Perhaps I should not have spoken so truthfully, but I want you to understand that, though Wickham had no right to hurt you, you cannot go on blaming others for your marriage. Especially not Fitzwilliam. If you had not agreed to elope with him, none of this would have happened."

Elizabeth could see the tears threatening again to fall from her sister's eyes. Faintly, the young girl spoke, "I … I thought he loved me, Lizzy! I swear I thought he loved me!"

Chapter 7

Lydia cried in earnest now, repeating that same statement over and over, "I thought he loved me."

Elizabeth quickly enfolded her in her arms. "Of course you did dearest! I may not approve of the way you did things but I never doubted for a second that you were sincere in your belief in his sentiment!"

Lydia lifted her head in surprise. "You did not?"

The astonishment on Lydia's face made Elizabeth feel slightly ashamed. Apparently her disapproval of Lydia's manners had led her sister to believe that she despised her.

"No Lydia, I did not doubt your feelings. I did not agree with your decision, but I knew you would not have eloped with him if you had not thought the two of you were in love with each other. I imagined you thought it all very romantic, didn't you?"

Lydia nodded, her eyes cast down.

"Can I tell you a secret? Under the right circumstances, I think eloping could be quite romantic!"

"You do?! But you just said you did not approve of my decision to elope!"

"Because I think your reasons for eloping were wrong. I know I will sound like Mary saying this, but a woman's reputation is brittle and you have to be very sure of the man's character before taking that kind of action. It should only be considered as a last resort. I would never elope with a man who had not first asked our father's permission to marry. Asking Papa would show he had some respect for me and was serious in his intentions."

"But, if he asked our father, there would be no reason for eloping!"

"Lydia, you know very well a father can refuse his permission, for a great many reasons! I was not at all certain Papa would consent to my marriage with Fitzwilliam. I actually had to convince him that I was really in love before he agreed. And even then, I think he was still reticent. He could have refused us; and if he had, I might have chosen to elope. But by then, I was very certain of both my feelings and Fitzwilliam's. He had proven that he valued me and respected me, that his love was deep and that he was extremely serious in his proposal."

"How could you be so sure? I was certain Wickham loved me and look at what happened!"

"Wickham is very good with words and can be very convincing, but I have found actions speak louder than words. My husband may not appear as charming as yours, but his actions speak for him. What I am going to tell you now, I have only told Jane, and I trust you will keep it secret as well." After a serious nod from her sister, Elizabeth continued. "Do you remember the time I spent in Kent? I told you I visited Rosing a few times. What I never told you was that Fitzwilliam was there with his cousin for most of my stay. We spent some time together and at the end of his visit, he proposed."

Lydia gasped: "Then, you were already engaged when you returned? Why did you not marry earlier?"

"Because we were not engaged. I refused him. The way he phrased his proposal was insulting and at that time I thought I hated him for a lot of different reasons. I could not marry someone I did not love, or at least respect, no matter how rich he was. I told him all the reasons why I would never marry him. I was truly horrible to him. The next day, he gave me a letter explaining his actions. I admit the letter was not very proper, but I am glad he did because it helped me to realise how greatly I had misjudged him. I still thought him arrogant and haughty, but I had to admit that he was a good man and not the monster I had thought him to be."

"Next I saw him was here, at Pemberley, when I was touring the Northern counties with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. I shall spare you the details, but let us just say that I was surprised by his altered manners and his marked attention to me. Things were improving between us until the news of your elopement came. He happened upon me right after I learned of it, and I was so distressed that I told him everything. I did not know it then, but he left the next day for London to find you and to restore our reputation and because he could not bear to see me so unhappy. By then I had realised he was the only man I would ever love but I had no hope of ever marrying him."

She took a deep breath and sighed raggedly. "I thought that a man of his station would never degrade himself by proposing twice to the same woman, especially after the horrible way I had refused him the first time. Besides, marrying me now would mean having Wickham as a brother. Yet he did propose again, to my great joy. So yes, after he changed his manners for me and saved our family from ruin, even being willing to accept his worst enemy as his brother because he would rather endure that mortification than live without me, I would have eloped if Papa had refused his consent. After all this, there was no way I could doubt the depth of his love for me."

Lydia had listened to her sister with ever widening eyes. She could hardly believe Mr Darcy to be such a romantic. "He really did all this for you?"

"Yes he did."

"So he really does love you."

It wasn't a question this time. Lydia was beginning to realise that her impression of Mr Darcy had not been based on reality, but rather on her wish to blame someone for her circumstances. Recognising that she had believed some of the tales Wickham had told her despite all that he had done to her, she felt ashamed.

"Yes, he does. And I love him more than anything in this world. So you see, there is no need to save me!" Elizabeth's attempt at levity had no effect on Lydia. The young girl was near tears again.

"You are right. I am the only one to blame for my marriage to Wickham. Does that mean I deserve what happened to me then?"

Elizabeth once again cursed her sister's husband as she tried to comfort a now crying Lydia.
"No, you did not! You may have made a foolish decision, but he had no right to treat you so despicably! Nobody deserves that Lydia! Nobody! And I can promise you he will never touch you ever again! You are safe now, dearest, you are safe."

It was a long time before Elizabeth finally left her sister's room with Lydia asleep at last in her bed. The conversation had drained her and she badly needed the comfort of her husband's arms. When she entered the room, he was waiting for her and sensing her distress, he immediately enfolded her in his embrace. The tears she had been able to control until then fell freely as she recounted what she had heard. Darcy comforted her and when the tears finally ceased, he promised her that they would take care of her sister. Safe in the knowledge that Lydia's ordeal was now over, Elizabeth finally fell asleep.

Epilogue

The next day, a very subdued Lydia came down for breakfast. She had woken up at six, barely two hours after falling asleep and had spent the time thinking, coming to two conclusions: Mr Darcy was not the villain she had wanted him to be and she had to apologise to him for barging into their bedroom in the middle of the night and for trying to convince Lizzy he was cheating on her. When she entered the breakfast room, both her sister and her husband were there. One look was enough for Lydia to understand that Elizabeth had shared everything with her husband. The compassion in his eyes threatened to unleash her tears anew.

"Good morning Lizzy, Mr Darcy."

Elizabeth spoke while her husband nodded. "Good morning Lydia. Did you manage to get some sleep?"

Lydia only shrugged as she was focused on Mr Darcy, trying to think of the best way to apologise. Finally, she decided that frankness was probably the best option.

"Mr Darcy, I would like to apologise for my behaviour last night. I should not have entered your bedrooms in that manner and I should not have implied that you were cheating on Lizzy."

"Your apology is accepted. I understand that you only wanted to protect my wife but a frank discussion with her would have prevented the misunderstanding. Now, would you please call me Darcy or Fitzwilliam? After all, we are brother and sister."

Lydia just stared at him, not answering. She had insulted him, in his home, and he was asking her to call him by his first name. Maybe Lizzy was right about him after all. Suddenly remembering that he was waiting for her answer, she replied, "Thank you, Fitzwilliam. You may call me Lydia."

During the following weeks and months, Lydia spent a lot of time observing her sister and her husband. She soon realised that the look on his face that she had not been able to identify before was love. Once she had admitted to herself that not all men were like her husband, she could see that Darcy adored his wife. He was never obvious and always would be reserved, but it was there nonetheless. A touch of the hand, a kiss on her cheek, a small gift--rarely anything expensive, but he always showed a desire to please his wife.

Georgiana, as she had promised Elizabeth, befriended Lydia and soon confided her history with Wickham. Being able to share her pain with someone who had experienced something similar was a great help to Lydia. Soon, the two girls were inseparable. Lydia learned to love music and, though she never became a great reader, discovered that not all books were boring and Georgiana lost some of her shyness. Each helped the other to heal and live again.

A year later, when Lydia heard of her husband's death at the hand of an angry father she barely cried. She was finally free of him and when a few months later, a promising young gentleman from a neighbouring estate asked to court her, she surprised herself by falling in love. Having learned her lesson well, however, she made certain that he really loved her before she accepted. And how did she know for certain of his sincerity?

Well, when he looked at her, he wore the same expression she saw everyday on Darcy's face when he looked at Lizzy. It had taken her some time, and a lot of hurt and pain, but Lydia finally understood love.