Page 146 of What Change Entails

Mrs. Hurst sounded bored. “You give her too much credit.”

“I give her just enough. Her family is vulgar. Her mother is ridiculous. Her youngest sister is a hoyden who ought never to be admitted into decent company, and her uncle’s connections are in trade. Even so, here they are, walking through Pemberley as if they belonged to it.”

Lydia’s face burned.

Georgiana made a small movement, but Lydia gripped her hand quickly.

No. Not yet. I need to hear what she has to say.

Mrs. Hurst said, “Darcy invited them.”

“Because he has allowed himself to be misled. Men in love are very often foolish.”

There was a pause. Then Mrs. Hurst answered more sharply than before. “If you believe him in love, I wonder you remain.”

Miss Bingley’s laugh was short and brittle. “Because I do not intend to surrender Pemberley to a country miss with impertinent behavior and fine eyes.”

Lydia’s nails dug into her palm.

“I have worked too long, Louisa,” Miss Bingley continued. “I know the family. I know Georgiana. I know every habit of this house. Do you think I shall stand aside while Miss Eliza Bennet walks in and receives what should have been mine?”

“Caroline.”

“No. If opportunities must be managed, then they shall be managed. Miss Eliza must be reminded of her place. Darcy must be separated from her long enough to recover his senses. Georgiana must be brought back to proper influence. That silly Lydia has filled her head with nonsense and rebellion.”

Georgiana flinched.

Lydia forgot herself enough to take one step toward the door.

Mrs. Hurst spoke quickly. “Take care what you say.”

“I am taking care, more than anyone else in this house appears willing to do. Darcy is too proud to recognize manipulation when it flatters his vanity. Georgiana is too young to judge properly. Miss Eliza is clever enough to encourage him without appearing to do so. If no one interferes, there will be an announcement before autumn.”

“And what do you mean to do?”

Miss Bingley did not answer.

The silence filled Lydia with a new discomfort, colder than anger.

Then Miss Bingley said, very distinctly, “Whatever is necessary to prevent a mistake that would degrade him.”

Georgiana’s fingers grew cold in Lydia’s hand.

The temptation arrived so suddenly Lydia nearly acted upon it. She would throw open the door. She would call Miss Bingley a jealous, scheming, silk-covered viper. She would announce to the whole house that Miss Bingley had mocked the Bennets, insulted Lizzy, insulted Georgiana, insulted trade, country society, and probably cake if given long enough. It would be glorious. Miss Bingley would pale. Mrs. Hurst would flutter. Darcy would come striding down the passage. Lizzy would scold Lydia afterward but secretly be grateful.

It was a beautiful vision. Lydia did not move. Her own stillness astonished her so much she almost ruined it by gasping.

Georgiana stared at her, eyes wide.

Lydia shook her head once, tugged gently, and led Georgiana away from the door.

They hurried down the corridor, quickened their pace at the corner, and were nearly running by the time they reached the little morning room near Georgiana’s apartments. Lydia did not stop until she reached the door. She shut it, leaned back against it, and pressed both hands over her mouth.

Georgiana stood in the center of the room, pale and rigid. “She said I was too young to judge,” Georgiana whispered.

Lydia dropped her hands. “She said many things. I am deciding which one to be angriest about first.”

Georgiana sank into the nearest chair. “She truly believes it.”