Chapter 95 Daily Life of a Noblewoman 9 Lydia's Dream
No. 28 White Dove Street is not far from St. Catherine's Docks, located in a middle-class community with relatively regular public security management. It is an old white house with a quiet, clean and simple surrounding.
Theodore had previously used the word "guard," and Heather imagined the image of a girl trapped in a monastery, probably having enough food and clothing but being confined in a small space and restricted in every way.
But when she knocked on the door, she found that this place was completely different from what she had imagined.
The person who opened the door was a middle-aged woman in a gray long dress. There was a noticeable wrinkle between her eyebrows, and she looked like she was constantly enduring impatience.
She spoke in a serious tone, deliberately stretching her neck, showing a stiff posture that pretended to be noble and proper, and her sharp eyes swept over the two guests at the door.
Heather looked at her and found that she didn't seem nervous or uneasy at all, as she should be when illegally imprisoning a young lady. Instead, she was very dissatisfied with the unauthorized visitor. So she said, "Madam, I'm here to take my niece home. Lydia Bennett, you should know."
The woman frowned. "You're here to pick her up before a week's due? Let me make it clear I won't return a cent." She glanced at Lancaster again and asked suspiciously, "But this man didn't seem to be the one who brought her here. Is this your husband?"
Lancaster remained silent, so Heather pretended not to hear the latter part of his sentence and replied, "Uh, she was sent here by one of our cousins."
"Okay, whatever you want." She gestured for the people at the door to come in. "You can answer it, but I have to tell you that she still has a lot to learn."
Heather's mind was filled with questions. What on earth was this place? But she still pretended to be worried and asked, "We're leaving London, so there's no time to study anymore. But what else has she not learned?"
The woman led them through the narrow hallway, around the piles of junk boxes. "Your sitting and gait aren't standard, your voice is too loud, and your conversation is too blunt and vulgar."
Huh? Could it be that Wickham has been throwing Lydia into some kind of ladies' training camp or socialite training class these past few days in order to keep her under control and prevent her from running away and causing trouble for him?!
Heather followed behind and saw the woman push open the door of the room at the end of the corridor. The girls who were whispering inside all sat down with their heads retracted, burying their heads in the books on the table.
There were about ten girls sitting around a large round table. Heather glanced at the page in front of the girl at the door. On it were common knowledge such as the titles of British aristocrats and the surnames of major families.
None of the girls dared to look up, and Heather immediately spotted Lydia in the corner, scowling and biting a pen. Her chubby face had shrunk considerably, showing how much she had suffered during these days of her family's anxiety.
"Miss Lydia Bennett!" the woman called out first. "Please come out."
Lydia shuddered noticeably and hesitated, not daring to look up. The girl next to her poked her arm with her elbow, and she stood up reluctantly.
"Yes, Miss Cliff."
Lydia was just now terrified because she was worried that the serious and old-fashioned Miss Cliff would randomly check her recitation and dictation, when suddenly a hand reached out and grabbed her.
She looked up in confusion and saw an unexpected person.
"Aunt Heather!" She immediately threw away all the rules and etiquette she had learned in the past few days and rushed towards Heather like a cannonball: "Aunt, I want to go home. I don't want to go to that dance. I shouldn't have sneaked out."
Heather looked at the little girl crying in front of her and felt angry and funny. Lydia had many flaws in her character, but she was undoubtedly a cute and beautiful girl. She was less than 16 years old, so she had the right to be forgiven for her mistakes.
Heather didn't say much, just patted her shoulder and walked out with her in her arms.
Miss Cliff was also stunned by Lydia's sudden outburst. The child cried so miserably, as if she had been tortured for several days, which made her doubt her teaching methods.
However, she still followed Lancaster, who was lagging behind, a few steps unwillingly, and said bravely: "This Miss Bennett broke my vase on the first day she came, and then she bumped into my easel. When she came, she only paid a week's salary, and that five pounds was not enough to pay for my vase! You look like a respectable gentleman, as her uncle, shouldn't you pay some compensation?"
Lancaster gave her a very subtle look. He didn't like teenagers who only knew how to cause trouble, but he found that he was still willing to be the uncle of these Miss Bennetts.
He took out ten pounds from his pocket and handed it to Miss Cliff quietly as a reward for her speaking ability.
Miss Cliff was in a good mood. After the guests got on the car, she stood at the door and gave the "student" she had taught for a few days a rare good look.
"Miss Bennett, I hope you've learned something in the past few days."
Lydia was so frightened that she hiccuped, and miraculously stopped crying, and instead shed tears silently like an elegant lady, and kept doing so until she returned to Gracechurch Street.
Everyone gathered in the living room, with Lydia sitting in the middle, making it look like a three-person trial. Mr. Bennett's face looked horrible and ugly.
Lydia sat upright in the chair, her back not touching the backrest at all. She had realized the serious consequences of leaving without saying goodbye, and the stormy trial that was about to come.
Her face turned pale with fear, and tears flowed freely, but she made almost no sound.
Mary could see that her sister, who had loved to act up since she was a child, was pretending to be quiet and calm now. In fact, she must have wanted to complain to everyone immediately and force everyone to forgive her.
But even so, it was enough to surprise Mary. In just half a year, Lydia had undergone tremendous changes.
Mrs. Gardner spoke first. She felt sorry for her niece's recent twists and turns, but she also understood the hard work and suffering her husband and the large group of relatives and friends who helped to look for her had endured over the past few days.
"Lydia, tell your aunt why you came to London with that Wickham without saying a word. If you really want to come, just write to us and tell us. Do you know that the whole family is almost crazy with worry these days?"
Lydia pursed her lips, trying hard to suppress her expression that was about to collapse: "I'm sorry, aunt. I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry, everyone. I was so stupid. I actually believed that Wickham had a way to introduce me to the Almack Club dance. I also lost the shoe chain that Aunt Heather gave me. Woo woo woo, I really regret it. I won't dare to do it again."
Even Mr. Bennett was surprised. "I never thought that in my lifetime I would actually see my stupidest daughter admit her stupidity in person. It seems that this is not a bad thing after all."
"The Almack Club dance?" Mary handed over a new handkerchief, unable to believe that Lydia knew this.
Lydia wiped away her tears, calmed her breathing, and said seriously, "Mary, you don't know, this is one of the most important balls in London. An invitation is extremely difficult to obtain. In addition to family background and wealth, the sponsoring committee will also strictly assess intelligence, beauty, dress sense, and dancing skills. Only if you meet all of the requirements will you have the opportunity to receive the invitation that every girl dreams of. You can wear the most luxurious dress and dance with the most powerful gentlemen. It is a huge honor."
Mary had indeed only heard of it, but Heather was not interested in balls, and she had never thought of squeezing into a ball with strict conditions. That was not the target audience of their business.
But she still had one question: "So what does this have to do with Wickham?"
Lydia wanted to cry again. "He said he grew up in the largest manor in Derbyshire and knew many aristocratic children. In addition, during wartime, people pay attention to officers, and he can help me get an interview for the ball. But I have to learn from Miss Cliff. In order to successfully get the introduction, he wants to use my most valuable jewelry to open up the relationship. But I am very sure he lied to me, because Miss Cliff said that people show courtesy to soldiers who actually fight on the battlefield, not officers of the militia. And I have studied the ranks of the military carefully. A lieutenant can't even walk into the door of the Almack Club!"
"But Miss Cliff wouldn't let me leave. She didn't agree to let me contact my relatives in London. She said she took the money and had to make sure we learned the real thing. She's really terrible, woo..."
The truth is so absurd, and the whole story is really ridiculous.
Wickham did have some intention of taking advantage of the ambiguous relationship to ask Lydia's wealthy relatives to help repay the debt, but Lydia was never defeated by his hypocritical sincerity and demeanor from beginning to end, but was wholeheartedly trying to realize her gorgeous dream.
The adults let Lydia go for the time being and turned to discuss how to deal with Wickham.
Mr. Bennett wants to make him suffer a little, and Lancaster takes the initiative to say that he knows a way to help the man repay his debts on his own while ensuring that he will not appear in front of them for decades to come.
"Many British colonies lack such healthy, young and strong laborers. They will surely teach Mr. Wickham not to dwell on getting something for nothing."
Mr. Bennett and Mr. Gardner looked at each other and acquiesced in the arrangement.
"So do you still want to attend that dance?" When the party was over, Lily followed her little cousin's legs and asked curiously.
Lydia carefully wiped her tear-stained face, tucked in her skirt carefully, recalled the movements from Miss Cliff's etiquette class, and squatted in front of her.
"I will definitely go, Miss Lily Gardner. One day all the girls my age will envy me for my popularity." She solemnly reached out and patted Lily's shoulder. "Miss Cliff is right. I still have a lot to learn. When I have learned all those things, maybe I can ask Jane or my aunt to take me to the audition for the ball. I now know the weight of the Countess."
Heather watched from the corner as she walked straight out of the living room, hand in hand with Lily, and whispered playfully to the people beside her, "It's a pity she doesn't know that the patron of the Almack Ball would definitely look down on a former French countess."
She left, leaving Lancaster standing there in thought.
If being a former French Countess wasn’t enough, being a current Duchess must be more than enough.
For the sake of the dream of Miss Bennett, who had a unique brain structure, he needed to work hard to speed up the process and make her aunt willing to become a duchess.
The most urgent thing is to come up with a unique, romantic and solemn proposal ceremony.
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