Page 5 of The Earl’s Second Chance

Mr. Collins spent the meal praising every dish as suitable to an earl’s table, though it was the same mutton he had eaten at Longbourn the year before. He addressed Jane and Elizabeth as “Lady Jane” and “Lady Elizabeth” in every sentence and attempted the title with Mary until she gently informed him that all daughters of an earl were styled Lady.

He then turned to Lydia. “Lady Lydia, perhaps your future son—”

Five pairs of female eyes hardened upon him.

He left before pudding.

In the quiet that followed, Lord Herfershire unfolded a list.

“There will be changes,” he said.

Lydia groaned.

“We shall remain at Longbourn until the late earl’s funeral, then remove to Herfershire Hall. We will observe a full year of mourning. During that year, your mother and I will learn our duties, and each of you will receive instruction suited to your future.”

“I know how to dance,” Lydia said.

“You know how to fling yourself through a set while shouting at officers. It is not the same skill.”

Kitty smothered a laugh, then looked ashamed when Lydia glared.

“Lady Susan Ambrose, a respectable widow who has served as companion to two diplomatic families, will supervise your studies with tutors and masters. Jane and Elizabeth will prepare for presentation next year. Mary and Kitty may be presented when they are judged ready.”

“And me?” Lydia demanded.

“Not before nineteen.”

“Nineteen! That is four years. I shall be ancient.”

“Then antiquity will come upon you with unusual speed.”

“Mama!”

Mrs. Bennet twisted her handkerchief but did not surrender. “Your father is right. I brought you out too early.”

The room went still again.

Fanny drew a breath. “I liked having you with me. I liked that you were lively. But I did not consider whether it was good for you. I shall consider it now.”

Lydia burst into tears and ran upstairs.

Kitty began to follow. Lord Herfershire stopped her.

“You are not required to be Lydia’s shadow.”

Kitty hesitated. “She will be angry if I do not go.”

“And what do you wish?”

No one had asked Catherine Bennet that question in years.

“I should like to finish my breakfast,” she whispered.

“Then sit down, my dear.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Herfershire Hall