"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman in ownership of her life must be in want of a husband. However little known the feelings or views of such a woman may be on her first entering into a relationship."
Not true for London dwe...
Mary ran into the room and waved the smelling salts under mother's nose. After a few moments, her eyes fluttered open, and she began to whimper, "Oh! My Lydia, my poor daughter! My poor dear child!"
Kitty giggled.
Mary helped Mrs. Bennet up and walked her towards a chaise. Mother cried and cried, hyperventilating and in general, not helping the situation at all. Mr. Palmer stood in the hall watching this drama unfold with Lydia in his arms. I wanted to sink into the floor or trade places with the table. Being an inanimate object was becoming a proper goal as impossible as it seemed.
Turning towards me, Jane asked, "What shall we do?"
I suggested, "Take off her clothes and corset. They are too restricting."
Kitty giggled again.
"Oh for heaven's sake, Kitty," I snapped, "do stop laughing!"
"I cannot help it!" Kitty tried to muffle her giggle with her hand.
"Fine," I addressed Kitty, "then make yourself useful and call for the doctor."
Kitty nodded, "Yes."
"Jane," I dispatched another order, " please get a bowl of water and some rags. We may need to clean up some of her injuries."
Mary opted to watch after mother, leaving Palmer, Jane, and an unconscious Lydia alone. I rolled up my sleeves like I meant business, "Mr. Palmer, follow me. We need to bring Lydia to her bed. The doctor can check her better there."
Mr. Palmer and I walked upstairs to Lydia and Kitty's room. He placed her on the bed and turned towards me. Before I could say anything, Kitty called me from downstairs. I left the room, leaving Palmer and Lydia alone.
"Yes Kitty," I inquired, "what is it?"
"Will Lydia recover?" Kitty fretted.
"Oh Kitty," I smiled, "Of course, she will."
A few tears escaped from her eyes. She tried her best to hold them back. Her lower lip trembled as she concentrated on looking at the floor. I hugged her, catching her by surprise.
"Is Lydia awake yet?"
"No. But, do not worry."
Kitty muffled her cries in my shoulder, "This was all my doing."
Confused, I asked, "What do you mean?"
"I told her to go back to Mr. Wickham if Mr. Palmer would not accept her. I was cross with her. Mr. Palmer was all she ever spoke of, and I began to miss our outings to Meryton," Kitty confessed.
"Kitty," I smiled, "Lydia has her own mind. She can make her own decisions. You felt she was ignoring you. There is no shame in it."
Kitty smiled up at me, her innocent eyes conveying a sense of hope, "The doctor will be coming soon. I sent a message boy."
I walked upstairs to check on Lydia. Palmer was kneeling by the bedside, holding Lydia's hand in his. Feeling as though I had intruded upon an intimate moment, I hesitated, unsure of what to do. Instead, I felt rooted in place. Almost afraid to move, I watched as he lowered his head, his shoulders shaking. He lifted a hand to brush strands of hair from her eyes.
His voice shook, "I am sorry for everything." He sighed, "Come back to me, Miss Lydia."
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