Page 11 of Not Without Me, Miss Elizabeth

"Of an age! My word, Lizzy, what a prude you are grown. There is no need to wait upon any such thing. I daresay they will be married before the month is out,” Lydia teased.

"And who is the man, Lydia?" Elizabeth asked plainly, looking at her youngest sister with a growing frown upon her face.

"An old, greying creature. I shouldn't think him a day under forty, older, if anything!” remarked Lydia loudly.

"Forty years of age!" Elizabeth repeated, sounding shocked.

This caused Kitty to giggle further, and Lydia to let out a hackling laugh. "Aye, at the very least! He did not look young, I promise you,” Lydia laughed again, seemingly delighted to see her older sister looking quite concerned.

"Do you know him? Have you seen him at any of the assemblies?" Elizabeth added, wondering who the man was and what type of person could wed but a child.

"Never before this morning. I was on my way to help Aunt Phillips, with Maria here, when I caught sight of them behind the tavern. And then Maria and I came running straight home, to tell Kitty the news."

Just then, Jane walked into the room, and the girls turned their attention to her. Jane seemed mission focused, aiming to inform Lydia of something, as she walked over to the chief storyteller. “Lydia,” she started. “Is our aunt not still expecting you?" Jane asked gently.

Lydia rolled her eyes slightly, letting out an exaggerated sigh, "Oh Jane, our aunt will do very well without us a little longer. Maria and I shall go directly, shan't we, Maria?"

"Yes, of course," Maria said hastily, rising for her seat, while colouring at the notion that Jane might think ill of her for having abandoned the Bennet family’s aunt.

"Very well, but do not tarry too long, Lydia. You gave your word to help Aunt Phillips with her preparations," said Mary sternly from the opposite side of the sitting room.

"Oh, you are such a bore, Mary!" Lydia cried before rising and making a dash out of the room, before her sister could chastise her further.

Mary's countenance registered plain disgust. "Lydia!" she called after her, to no effect.

Maria Lucus rose hastily, offered the elder Miss Bennets a hurried curtsy, and hurried off after her friend. Kitty, giggling still, followed to see them away. The three remaining sisters exchanged glances, and Mary punctuated the moment with a disapproving "Hmph."

Elizabeth turned the conversation back to the matter that had unsettled her. "Can you conceive of it, Jane? A greying soldier, engaged to a child."

"You are not wrong to be troubled by it, Elizabeth. I cannot like it either. And yet consider Sarah's situation. Her mother has struggled a great while, and perhaps this may prove a mercy to them both, some relief, and a measure of comfort neither has known in some time."

"Jane, why must you always be so reasonable? No, do not answer that; I would rather not hear it. I am resolved upon this: Sarah is far too young to be a wife. If the man means to be of use to that family, let him marry the mother, and leave the daughter to her childhood."

"Indeed, it is young,” Jane ever the optimist added, “But what if they are attached to one another, Lizzy?"

"Attachment, Jane, is no substitute for judgment, and a girl of fourteen can have precious little of the latter to bring to such a decision." Elizabeth felt her frustration mounting as she spoke. "It is precisely why the law sets an age for marriage at all. The law does not trouble itself with trifles."

"And yet, where a mother consents, a parent's approval stands above the law."

"Consent granted on a child's behalf is no true consent, Jane, whatever the law allows. She is a child still, and no more capable of understanding what she agrees to than of governing an estate."

"I know you would have it otherwise, Lizzy. But the Lawsons have nothing of their own. This is a chance at a home, and food upon the table, and someone to care for her."

"They already want for neither home nor food. The neighbourhood has provided for them every month since Mr. Lawson's death. Sarah need not surrender her childhood for what she already has." Elizbaeth’s voice, sounding more frustrated at the situation than at her sister.

"Perhaps it is her pride that will not permit her to go on living upon others' charity. Perhaps she wishes for a home she may call entirely her own. Can you fault her for wanting a fresh beginning?"

"I cannot fault her, Jane. I can only wish her childhood might be spared her a little longer."

"I understand you, Lizzy," Jane conceded, offering a thoughtful nod.

"The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away," Mary put in. "The Lawsons have known a season of loss. Perhaps this is meant to be a season of provision."

"Perhaps so. Thank you, Mary," said Elizabeth, glad enough to let the subject rest, for it had stirred in her rather more feeling than she cared to display.

From beyond the door came the sound of their mother's voice, raised at Mrs. Hill as she approached the parlour. "Hill, mind you do not forget the salt in the butter!"

Mrs. Bennet swept in and went directly to Jane. "Jane, my dear, what news of Mr. Bingley? And his sisters, when are you to see them again?"