Lydia Read Online Free Page B

seconds longer, the better to savour the anticipation of seeinghim again. I thought, surely he must be feeling it, too? For all the time my eyes remained shut, there was no one in that room but he and I. He approached the sofa. He seized my hand. I shuddered with delight as he confessed his most ardent and violent devotion.
    â€œLydia!” Kitty nudged me again, harder this time. I opened my eyes.
    Wickham was talking to Lizzy.
    Every woman in the room was watching him, but he had eyes only for my sister. Every ear strained to hear what compliments he paid her. Lizzy blushed – Lizzy, who never blushes! Everybody sighed – had he already professed his love? So soon? If he had, it was too vastly romantic! The air positively crackled with curiosity and excitement as the room held its breath to hear her adoring response.
    â€œIndeed.” Lizzy’s voice rang out, clear and strong and not in the least bit amorous. “Sometimes when it rains the lanes become quite impassable for mud.”
    â€œMud?” Kitty was outraged. Even Jane looked disappointed.
    My aunt and uncle, Colonel Forster and Mr. Collins sat down to whist. Two other officers and their wives formed another four. The rest of us crowded around the larger table for a game of lottery tickets.
    Wickham and Lizzy sat together. I dashed to his other side. “I’ll shuffle!” I squeaked, and seized the deck of cards.
    â€œIt is a silly game,” Lizzy murmured to Wickham. “All chance and no skill, but the younger ones like it.”
    â€œYou’ve never objected before,” I muttered.
    Lizzy’s black eyes glinted. It was terrifying. I fumbled anddropped the deck. And then . . . “Allow me.”
    A scarlet-clad arm descended between us. A strong hand reached for the cards. Lizzy and I sat back like chastened children as well-shaped, nimble fingers gathered them up.
    The cards danced as Wickham shuffled. He cut the deck and held it high in one hand, pouring them like a waterfall into the other. He fanned them out before him, swirled them over the baize, gathered them in equal piles, and flipped them expertly together before tapping them smartly on the table and handing them to me with a bow.
    I sighed.
    â€œA tip from a seasoned player, Miss Lydia,” Wickham murmured in my ear. “There is nothing wrong with chance. The trick is knowing how to use it.”
    I stole a glance at Lizzy. Her eyes flickered from me to Wickham. For the first time in my life, I saw her look uncertain, and felt a surge of triumph. Wickham dealt, as elegantly as he had shuffled. I seized my cards and gasped.
    â€œIs there a problem, Miss Lydia?” he asked.
    â€œNone whatsoever,” I said. “I just appear to have rather a good hand.”
    Could he have . . . no, it was not possible . . . I looked at him suspiciously. He was calm itself. Could he have dealt me such a hand on purpose? He caught me watching, and winked. I could not stop myself – I winked back.
    After that – of course – he talked with Lizzy all evening, all about Derbyshire where he grew up with Mr. Darcy, of all people. Even though, as we know, Mr. Darcy is monstrous wealthy, he has done Wickham a great wrong depriving him of some inheritance. It is vastly tragic for Wickham, but I don’tsee why Lizzy must monopolise him. I could be just as sympathetic if they would only let me. As it was, I had to make a great show of being interested only in the game, the fish I had won and the fish I had lost.
    Thanks to Wickham, I won much more than I lost. “If we were playing for money instead of fish,” I said, “I would be disgustingly rich.”
    Lizzy went pink and said not to be so vulgar, but Wickham roared with laughter, and it made me feel funny inside.
    It is some consolation, I suppose, that I can make him laugh, though I wish he would take me seriously.

Monday, 25th November
    I t has rained