Page 113 of Pride and Prejudice Resolutions

"Lizzy said you were mean," Lydia said. "She said you were a tyrant."

"Your sister Elizabeth has strong opinions. She is usually right, but she lacks nuance."

"Youarea tyrant," Lydia decided. "But you are right. About the Admiral. I tried talking about bonnets to a Captain once, and he walked away. Maybe if I had asked about his ship..."

"Exactly," Lady Catherine beamed. "Now. Scenario two. A lady insults your dress. She says yellow makes you look like a canary. What do you say?"

"I say her dress looks like a curtain!" Lydia shouted.

"No! No, no, no. You never insult back directly. It is vulgar. You smile. You smile sweetly and you say,'Oh, do you think so? I suppose not everyone has the complexion to carry off such a bold colour. How fortunate that you stick to beige, it is so... safe.'"

Lydia gasped. A slow, wicked grin spread across her face. "That is... that is mean. I love it."

"It is polite cruelty," Lady Catherine corrected. "It is the language of the drawing rooms. Learn it."

"I want to try," Anne said suddenly.

Lady Catherine turned. "You?"

"Yes. Scenario three. A gentleman asks me to dance, but he is sweaty and steps on toes. What do I say?"

Lady Catherine glanced at her daughter. Anne was sitting up straight. Her eyes were alert.

"You say," Lady Catherine said slowly, "that you are fatigued, but you would be delighted to sit out the set and hear his views on the weather. You bore him until he leaves."

Anne smiled. "I think I can do that."

Lady Catherine looked between the two girls. The wild, loud Bennet and the quiet, sickly de Bourgh. They were opposites. And yet, sitting there, plotting social warfare, they were a team.

"Excellent," Lady Catherine said. "We shall make formidable women of you both yet."

Two weeks later, Lady Catherine sat at her desk, writing a letter.

My Dear Nephew,

I trust this letter finds you and your new wife well, and that Pemberley is not entirely falling apart under the management of a Bennet. I write to inform you that your sister-in-law, Miss Lydia, is tolerable.

She is loud. She laughs at inappropriate moments. She has the attention span of a gnat. However, she has stopped slouching. She has learned to listen to Mr Collins without rolling her eyes. Mostly. And yesterday, when Sir William Lucas called and made a foolish comment about the court, she did not giggle. She asked him about his knighthood with such convincing interest that the man stayed on it for an hour.

She is not Elizabeth. She will never be Elizabeth. But she may yet avoid becoming her mother.

Anne sends her regards. She and Lydia are currently in the garden. Lydia is teaching Anne how to laugh loudly, and Anne is teaching Lydia how to ignore people she dislikes. It is a strange alliance, but it seems to keep the house lively.

Do not hurry to retrieve her. I have not finished with her yet. By the time I am done, she will be ready for a Colonel. Or at least a Major.

Your affectionate Aunt,

Catherine de Bourgh

Lady Catherine sealed the letter. She stood up and walked to the window.

Down in the garden, she saw them. Lydia was running—actually running—across the lawn, chasing a spaniel. And Anne was walking briskly behind her, not wrapped in shawls, but laughing, her face turned up to the sun.

Lady Catherine tapped her cane against the glass.

She had failed to marry Darcy to Anne. She had failed to stop the pollution of the shades.

But she had gained a niece who was her equal in backbone. She had a nephew who was finally happy. And now, she had a project that was bringing her own daughter back to life.

"Stand up straight, Lydia!" she muttered to the glass, though the girl could not hear her. "You are running like a duck!"

But she smiled as she said it.

It was going to be a very interesting summer at Rosings. And who knew? Maybe next season, she would take them both to London. The Matlocks would not know what hit them.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh chuckled and turned back to the room. It was time for tea. And she had a lesson on"How to reject a suitor without losing his devotion"to prepare.

The dynasty, she decided, was safe in her hands.

The End