Lydia Bennet at last understood the truth of her situation, her insipid belief that Mr. Wickham held any true sentiment towards her had destroyed her life and any chance of happiness. What a lark it was to have been! The first of her sisters married and too such a handsome and charming officer, admired by her own sister, Elizabeth to boot. She was to have flaunted society's rules and come out victorious. Now she had no virtue or marriage, no money, no way to return home and no joy. Mr. Wickham would not be returning to the boarding house he had brought her to some three months prior. The morning's paper contained the announcement that Lieutenant Colonel George Wickham formerly of Derbyshire had married Susan Clint of Norfolk, daughter of Major General Clint. She had no desire to control the vitriol that flowed through her veins, she shortly overturned the table and the chair she had been sitting upon. Coarse and barbaric curses formed in her mouth as rapidly as the spread of forest fire.

"How dare you damage my home!" Mrs. Younge's frame filled the doorway, her harsh countenance did little to frighten Lydia in the moment. "You can be certain that when Mr. Wickham returns I will be charging double the cost to repair it!"

A harsh bitter gasp left Lydia, swooning as grief overcame her. Pointing to the paper on the floor "I think not, for he is recently married."

Hurriedly Mrs. Younge smoothed the creases in the paper Lydia had created and struggled to read through the smudge lines of ink. "It worked, the damned fool managed it!"

"Managed it? Managed what?"

"The new Mrs. Wickham has a dowry of some twenty-five thousand pounds and enough connections in the army through her father to clear George of abandoning his post in the Hertfordshire militia not to mention the trouble he created absconding with a dim-witted young maiden under the protection of Colonel Foster. I cannot believe he managed it after he botched the last scheme so abominably." For the first time in their months long acquaintanceship Lydia witnessed Mrs. Younge's eyes ablaze with delight.

"Why are you so happy? Surely you understand that he will no longer return here or pay the outstanding bill?"

Mrs. Younge failed to process Lydia's inquiry "And a commission in the regulars! How well I shall be established. How long have we dreamt of this moment, at last we shall have everything we deserve. I must begin…"

"Whatever do you mean? Why should you get anything?" Lydia interrupted, hands clenched by her side.

Mrs. Younge gave her a plaintive smile "I have been the true possessor of George's heart for some twelve years."

Lydia attempted her usual flippancy "La! He warmed my bed for too many nights for me to believe you."

"George is still hurt that I married another man. Had Mr. Darcy provided the living he should have George and I would be married. I seduced Mr. Younge for security, so that I would have a home and enough pin money to provide one for George as well. I did it without consulting him and now it provides him succor to diddle with other women. None of that matters now though, our dreams have ripened and I shall not be the one to allow them to wither on the vine."

A tempest began to brew inside Lydia "You hoyden! He was mine! How dare you!" Lydia assumed her full height and began to berate Mrs. Younge.

Mrs. Younge sighed and motioned towards the door "I do believe your useful qualities have been exhausted, now run along and find someone else to care for you."

Had Lydia more sense she would not have missed the steel in Mrs. Younge's voice. "You cannot force me to vacate!" With more speed than she could fathom Lydia found herself out of doors and on the stoop of Mrs. Younge's boarding house dressed in nothing more than a muslin gown, her ears acutely attuned to the turning of the lock. In fear she began pounding upon the door "What of my clothes? But what of my clothes?"

A second story window opened and a dirty worn brown pelisse floated down.

"I shall be selling your clothing to recoup some of the expense I have laid out for you. Be gracious that I am kind enough to allow you your dress and that pelisse left by a less genteel tenant than yourself." Anger filled Lydia as she slipped the drab garment over her form. "Oh and a word of advice, should you seek employment in the area avoid Mrs. Keller's bawdy house, I hear her clients are frightful!" Mrs. Younge closed the window though Lydia could still hear her laughter. Tears filled her eyes and for the first time in her life Lydia wished she were in Hertfordshire. Oh, how she longed for the staid company of her sisters and parents. If only there were some method of returning to them and undoing all that had been done. The society of four and twenty families of good character was more than sufficient than the entirety of London. What a foolish half-wit she had been. What choice did she have now, she would have to prepare herself for the sort of employment Mrs. Younge had suggested. At least until she had sufficient fare for the ride to her aunt and uncle's home, she would need to aid herself for no one was coming to her assist her. Lydia rose from the stoop and shook out her skirt, stricken as a large man with a determined expression approached her.

He opened his mouth, quickly glancing at a sheet of paper before he produced words. "Are you Miss Lydia Bennet?"

Lydia was sorely tempted to deny her identity. Hope that her relatives were searching for her overrode that temptation. She replied warily "I am. What business is it of yours?"

"Oh Miss you've no idea how happy you've made me!"

Lydia blanched at his effusion. What on earth did this man want with her? His size rendered her incapable of defending herself and there were no authorities to protect anyone in this neighborhood.

The man quickly understood her fear "It tain't nothin bad, it's just your relatives promised a bonus to whoever found ya and I could sure use it." With a large grin he proceeded "Can I escort ya back to yer uncle's house?"

As the most appealing path of her objectionable position, Lydia chose to take the proffered arm of her as of yet undetermined savior or murderer. "Shall we Mr?"

"Mr. Carver, usually tho is just Bill."

"Well to me sir you are a gentleman of the highest order, Mr. Carver." Lydia giggled and offered the best impression of a smile she could manage; perhaps kindness would save her life.

The Bennet Sisters' Residence

Bless you Mrs. HIll, Mary's porridge is nearly edible. I pray Mr. Collins does not drive you mad. Each morning repast upon moving into their new residence had been a solemn affair. The eldest sisters took turns preparing the morning porridge as Mrs. Hill had taught them before they left Longbourn, Kitty had been given other duties after her first three attempts deftly avoided the sisters' lips as they were burnt beyond recognition. Three days of empty bellies were enough to precipitate Kitty's removal from the kitchen, relinquishing her turn to Mary who had uncharacteristically risen to the meet the difficult circumstances they found themselves in. Perhaps Mary was always this skilled and caring, she merely needed the occasion to display her talents. Or perhaps it is difficult to sermonize and chastise those already so repressed by society and machinations beyond their own control? A small smile crossed Elizabeth's face, she looked up to share her dark humor with the only person she knew would truly appreciate it. Father is not here, we shall never share our humorous thoughts or quips with one another again. Why can I not remember this? Why should I continue to search the room for him? Oh, what I would give to him tease mother again! Content with our lot, did I appreciate all that we had enough?

Perhaps I should have been exposed to more poverty, made to live in it briefly so that I might have understood the honor Mr. Darcy expressed in offering for me at all. To know that my sisters will not end up as those girls in their threadbare clothing I pass in the street. The safety and security of an address in an upstanding neighborhood. Did mother not stress that his fortune was large enough that we would never stress his resources? Uncle Gardiner could continue to improve his own daughters' dowries and pursue a country estate of his own rather than assuming the cost of four poor relations and the search for a fifth. When will my thoughts cease to be so maudlin? It will not do to continue on this path.

"Do you suppose, my dear sisters, that we will eventually rally our sullen dispositions?" Elizabeth gazed hopefully at her sisters across the rickety table and its' nicked tabletop.

"Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful; and the end of that mirth is heaviness." Perhaps Mary was merely occupying herself with useful tasks until the opportunity to sermonize presented itself. Nodding grimly, Elizabeth looked pointedly at Kitty Surely Kitty and her silliness will bring a laugh to us all shortly. A stricken Kitty's lip began to quiver, rapidly followed by a course of oversized wet tears. Elizabeth felt a sick wave of dread pass over her. Jane, surely Jane will have something brilliantly warm and comforting to say.

Though strained by worry for her favorite sister, Jane smiled and spoke with greater warmth than she had since their parents' demise. "Circumstances may certainly change" Jane gestured around the room. "Should they not also change for the better? I am certain happiness is in our future, we need only to keep our hearts open to it." Kitty dried her tears and Mary's lips curled upwards slightly. Jane, Jane beloved, Jane as long as hope burns brightly within you, I shall continue as though I was never formed for unhappiness, if only to maintain your brilliant countenance.