Page 13 of What Change Entails

Kitty brightened. “Then could you still go to Brighton?”

“Perhaps.”

“But if you were sent home in disgrace, Papa would be angry.”

Lydia stopped. “That is true.”

“And Lizzy would say she had been right.”

This possibility was intolerable.

“No,” Lydia said. “That will not do at all.”

She threw herself into the chair by the dressing table and stared at her reflection again. Revenge should not make Lizzy right. Revenge should make Lizzy sorry. There was a considerable difference.

“Perhaps,” she said slowly, “I shall become so admired in Derbyshire that everyone speaks of it. Aunt Gardiner will write home that I am the delight of the party, and you will be forced to hear Mama read it aloud. If I meet a very handsome gentleman, I shall mention him constantly in my letters.”

“To me?” Kitty asked.

“To everyone.” Lydia warmed to the scheme. “I shall torture Lizzy with proof of her insignificance the entire time we are gone. She will deserve it for ruining my fun.”

Kitty frowned. “Would that not make her think she had done you a favor by sending you there?”

Lydia stared at her.

The problem was infuriating.

“You are becoming as troublesome as Mary.”

Kitty scowled. “I am helping.”

“Well, help less sensibly.”

Kitty folded her hands in her lap and attempted to look chastened, though her mouth twitched.

Lydia leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting the damage done by tears. Her nose was indeed red. That was Lizzy’s fault too. She dabbed beneath her eyes with a handkerchief and adjusted one loose curl.

A new idea arrived.

“I shall make her feel guilty.”

Kitty blinked. “How?”

“By being melancholy.”

“You?”

“Yes, me.”

Kitty’s skepticism became insulting.

“I can be melancholy,” Lydia insisted.

“For how long?”

Lydia hesitated. “Long enough.”

“Until breakfast?”