For Miss Bennet's Honour by Sophia Woodford

Author:Sophia Woodford [Woodford, Sophia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Amazon
Publisher: Woodford Books
Published: 2018-10-24T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23.

As Elizabeth had expected, Lydia was not up at dawn crying out for her lost love. She was not even awake. Her form was crumpled under the bedclothes, breathing the even breaths of the well rested.

Elizabeth, however, could not sleep in. She was up with the sun. She washed quietly, not wanting to wake Lydia. But her feet were tapping as Louise laced her into her stays and dress.

As Elizabeth combed her hair, she heard the men go out downstairs. They were out early. She was sorry to have missed them, but she went downstairs to see what the breakfast spread was like and what the day brought.

Elizabeth wondered what the men would do when they found Mr. Wickham. She herself was caught between wanting to see him punished to the full extent of whatever laws applied – which she was at least self-knowing enough to understand came out of her own embarrassment – and a sisterly desire to spare Lydia the humiliation of a condemned husband – no matter how much she deserved it.

Was he even guilty? The gentlemen seemed to think so. Elizabeth thought back to her conversation with Mr. Wickham at the ball in Meryton. Mr. Wickham had not been pleased about the peace. In fact he had discussed how much he admired war. At the time Elizabeth thought he was being ironic – at the time she had not wanted to speak with him very much at all.

But now she had to consider his words in the light of his actions. Why run off with Lydia if he were not masking some other, darker purpose? It was not beyond him. Elizabeth had evidence that Mr. Wickham was not contained by the scruples that kept other gentlemen in check – the bare facts Mr. Darcy had laid out in his letter, and her own evaluation of their weight, proved it. Yet a mercenary elopement was still very far from treason

"Lawd! What a rest," Lydia said, coming downstairs and yawning. "These beds are so soft – much better than those at home, although the decor is not so good. What dull walls they have, no paper at all."

"The gentlemen have left," Elizabeth said. She had no idea what they were doing, though she was anxious to know. There was nothing like waiting to drive someone mad. She was keen to get outside and walk off some of this nervous energy with her feet. "Shall we see the town?"

Already she was developing plans of her own. Elizabeth did not know what the gentlemen's plans were, nor what the consequences would be for her sister's new husband; for some reason she could not quite explain to herself, Elizabeth had a desire to beat Mr. Darcy and Col. Fitzwilliam to Mr. Wickham, just as she had beat them to Lydia. And she was equally interested in exploring their new environs: a whole new city of a kind she had never seen before.

Le Havre had been one sort, a military town. There was always order in such places, and always the same sort of order.

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