Free Lydia by Natasha Farrant Page A

boringly grown-up.
    Of Wickham himself, there is little sign. Miss King the Great Heiress does not attend parties with officers, or dance or drink wine or play cards. Miss King visits a close circle of family friends where doubtless she executes impeccable concertos on the pianoforte, and warbles a few polite songs chosen for her by Mrs. Roberts before retiring early to bed. Wickham, I am told, trots about her like a well-trained lapdog, panting for his ten-thousand-pound reward. When our paths do happen to cross, in the library, in a shop, in the street, I am careful to show him how little I care about his defection. I laugh – God, how I laugh! The first time it happened, I waswalking with Carter, who nearly jumped out of his skin with the honk I made! Lord knows what he thought of me, but I don’t really care. He laughed back, that was the main thing, and I am sure that Wickham noticed.
    I am the most carefree girl in England.

Sunday, 10th May
    I t is all changed again.
    Firstly, Miss King is gone to Liverpool, to stay with her uncle! Aunt Philips says she was seen walking alone along the Waire with Wickham, close to the soldiers’ camp. Mrs. Roberts wrote to the uncle to ask what she should do, and he wrote back to say she was to go North immediately. And quite right, too, says Aunt, forgetting how much she enjoyed gossiping about them before. “A young lady like her, carrying on so with the likes of Wickham!” I did feel a little sorry for Miss King when she told us. Banishment to Liverpool seems a very big reaction to a walk along the river, and why does no one talk of punishing Wickham?
    â€œHow long will she be away?” Kitty asked.
    â€œOh, indefinitely!” Aunt replied. “For there are prospects for her up there. Good prospects, with the son of her uncle’s business partner.”
    â€œHow does Wickham bear it?” Kitty is so gullible. I think she honestly believes Wickham was fond of Miss King.
    â€œPoorly, I should think,” Aunt replied. “For there are few prospects left for him here.”
    He joined us this evening – strolled into Harriet Forster’s drawing room for the first time in months, as tranquil, jolly and handsome as ever. “Miss Lydia,” he said with a smile. “I believe I owe you a ride in the country.”
    â€œMr. Wickham,” I replied coldly. “I am sorry to hear your financial interests have gone north.”
    â€œLydia?” He looked at me closely. “Are you angry with me?”
    â€œAs if I cared enough to be angry!”
    â€œI have upset you,” he said gravely.
    â€œNo! Yes . . .” I gave up. “Wickham, you dropped us! For Miss King . Lizzy says you pursued her because she is rich, and that it is the way of the world, but we were friends .”
    â€œI am sorry.”
    I looked up at him. He stood with his head bowed and hands clasped, and did appear truly contrite. “I had . . . I did not . . . Lydia, would it help to know that it was Miss King who pursued me ?”
    â€œSurely you do not expect me to believe that?” I cried. “Why would she do that?”
    â€œAm I not pleasing enough?” Wickham looked offended.
    Yes, I do despise myself. Yes, I do still feel sorry for Miss King, and yes, I wish I were not so easily bought. But oh, I do so want that gallop! I did try to remain aloof as we sat down to play, but I caught his eye as he dealt, then looked at my cards – once again, his magic had given me a winning hand. And then there was dancing, and a jolly reel with him about the room, and I had forgotten how much I like to dance with him.
    How we laughed tonight! Harriet devised the idea ofdressing one of the officers in women’s clothes, and sent me to my aunt’s to fetch a gown to fit him. I ran all the way there, nearly knocking over Aunt’s friend Mrs. Perry as I went. “One of those wild Bennet girls,” I heard