Page 48 of Companions of Their Youth
Since that day, there had been only a handful of switchings at Longbourn, and always for dangerous disobedience or willful defiance. Never humiliation. Never pain for pain’s sake.
Elizabeth still bore the faint white lines on the backs of her thighs—ghosts of that single afternoon—and she had never again played a prank more serious than hiding a pie tin.
So when Mrs. Bennet—pale, serious, and trembling—declared she would take a switch to any girl who flirted with a redcoat, her children knew to take her admonishments seriously.
Chapter 10
After lunch at noon, Lydia was sent back upstairs to do more lessons. As Kitty made to follow Jane and Mrs. Bennet to the drawing room once more, Elizabeth touched her shoulder.
“Come with me.”
Without protest, Kitty trailed behind her elder sister, up the stairs and to the room where Lydia was doing her studies. Instead of sitting at her desk, however, Lydia lay sprawled across the window seat. The books remain closed and untouched on the other side of the room.
She turned at their arrival, pouting. “It is dreadfully dull since Kitty came out. I hate being alone all day.”
“I know,” Elizabeth said gently. “But your sixteenth birthday is only a few months away. Perhaps, if you behave, you will be allowed to come out then.”
Lydia huffed but said nothing.
Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned them closer. “I wanted to speak to you both about what Mama said. About officers.”
Kitty twisted her fingers. “I did not mean to be wicked,” she said. “Maria Lucas told me that Charlotte said redcoats are handsome and fun. I did not think it made me bad to want to flirt with one.”
“It does not,” said Elizabeth. “But Mama is right to be cautious. Some officers are honorable. Some are not. And when a gentleman is not honorable, it is the lady who suffers.”
“How?” Lydia asked, frowning. “Do not people have to share a bed to make a baby? That does not happen unless you are married.”
Elizabeth flushed. “That is… a conversation for another time.”
Lydia crossed her arms. “Why does everyone treat me like a child? I am the tallest of us, even Jane!”
“It is not very ladylike to discuss such things,” Elizabeth admonished.
“But how are we to know what not to do if we have no idea what it is we are not supposed to do?” Lydia shot back. Her eyes were narrowed, but not with defiance—there was only confusion there. And curiosity.
Elizabeth hesitated. She glanced out the nursery window, where the autumn sun streamed in golden stripes across the rug. Then she looked back at her sisters.
“We live on a farm,” she said slowly. “You have seen the dogs and the horses, yes?”
The girls nodded.
“Well,” Elizabeth said awkwardly, “when animals mate… it is not so different for people. It is not always a bed. It is not always marriage. A few kisses may seem harmless, but they can lead to things you are not ready to understand—and those things can lead to consequences that cannot be undone.”
Lydia wrinkled her nose. “You mean it is like when the brown mare kept chasing the stallion, and then he climbed on her?”
Kitty looked horrified.
Elizabeth’s ears burned. “Yes,” she said shortly. “Something like that.”
“Oh,” Kitty murmured, pink-cheeked. “That is… rather disgusting.”
“It is also how babies are made,” Elizabeth said with finality. “And why Mama is so strict. If a gentleman truly loves you, he will honor you by waiting. If he tries to rush or trick you, then he is not worthy of your time.”
There was a silence as both girls processed this.
Lydia finally muttered, “It still sounds gross.”
Elizabeth allowed herself a faint smile. “That is exactly how you should feel for now.”
