Page 106 of What Change Entails

Elizabeth had already entered opposite them beside Mrs. Gardiner, leaving only two places remaining: the seat beside Georgiana and the one beside Elizabeth.

Miss Bingley tightened her hold on Darcy’s arm as they reached the carriage door. For an instant, she hesitated, plainly calculating which arrangement she preferred: to surrender Darcy to his sister or to spend the journey seated opposite him beside Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Lydia, stretched comfortably across the remaining space beside Georgiana, watched with unconcealed interest.

For one glorious moment, she believed Miss Bingley might refuse to enter altogether.

Then propriety conquered fury.

With all the graciousness of a queen accepting imprisonment, Miss Bingley seated herself beside Elizabeth.

Only then did Darcy climb into the carriage and take the vacant place beside Georgiana.

The carriage lurched forward.

Lydia began speaking. It was not intelligent or overtly coherent. She spoke continuously, opting to fill the silence that might have been awkward.

“Georgiana, if you buy blue ribbon, you must buy enough for matching slippers or the effect is tragic. Kitty once attempted yellow slippers with lavender trim and appeared like bruised custard.”

Mr. Bingley barked laughter from the carriage behind them, having apparently overheard Lydia’s loud exclamation.

Georgiana replied gamely, “I had not known custard suffered bruising.”

“It does in Hertfordshire.”

Miss Bingley attempted interruption twice during the first quarter hour and failed both times.

Lydia cut in. She darted from bonnets to dances without pause, condemned Mrs. Forster’s appalling taste in feathers, recounted with great delight the fate of a colonel’s wig that had once blown clear across Meryton in a windstorm, and demanded opinions upon whether a lady ought ever trust a gentleman who wore excessive scent. Darcy contributed occasionally now, which Miss Bingley clearly found intolerable.

Elizabeth spent much of the journey looking out the carriage window, yet Lydia caught her sister glancing toward Darcy often enough to grow insufferably pleased with herself. Whenever he spoke to anyone with real animation, Elizabeth’s attention strayed in his direction almost before she appeared aware of it herself.

And he did show amusement more readily now, though the sound continued to surprise Lydia whenever it escaped him. Once a person learned where to look, however, the alteration in him became impossible to miss.

When they finally rolled into Lambton, the streets bustled pleasantly beneath the warm summer sunlight. Shop signs creaked overhead. Villagers moved steadily along the lane carrying baskets, parcels, bolts of cloth. A pair of boys raced past the inn pursued by a woman threatening destruction upon both their souls.

Lydia loved it instantly.

Miss Bingley descended from the carriage with immense caution, lifting her skirts several inches above the damp ground.

Lydia watched thoughtfully.

Then she noticed the puddle.

Then she noticed the grubby little boy loitering beside a wagon wheel.

A dreadful idea entered her mind.

Georgiana recognized the look. “Lydia…”

“Hush.”

“You must not.”

“I absolutely must.”

Before Georgiana could interfere, Lydia slipped the boy a penny and murmured quick instructions.

The child grinned.