Lindsey & Lydia

Once there was a small town where everyone knew one another. ‘Twas a small town, so not very much happened in the way of extraordinary things. The most famous and well-known figures in town were Madam Wyt and her daughters, Lindsey Wyt and Lydia Wyt. The two daughters were of the same age and quite lovely, although they were the polar opposites of each other. Lindsey was fair-haired with golden skin, and had a very outgoing personality. Lydia, on the other hand, was dark-haired and very pale, which was due to the fact that she almost never went outdoors. This was because a) her mother didn’t allow it, and b) she was extremely shy around people other than her sister and mother. Whereas their mother let Lindsey roam free and unrestrained, she kept Lydia inside under a strict set of rules and locked up in a corset. Her over-protectiveness of Lydia did not mean that she favored her over Lindsey; indeed, Madam Wyt preferred Lindsey to Lydia. She was merely saving Lydia for a future purpose, namely an arranged marriage, possibly to a wealthy trader. Believing that only ladies could find rich husbands, Madam Wyt made Lydia wear elegant dresses of a Victorian style, and forbid her from going to dances or other popular social events.

Lindsey, however, was well known around town, not only because of her beauty but because of her wild streak as well. She was very coquettish, dating five or six boys at a time, and dancing with double that number at the dances. She did not have any marriage plans, but if she had to choose a type of man to marry, than she would have married an extremely rich one, because she did not want to work to support herself and wanted instead to have a comfortable lifestyle. Lindsey had a drawer full of make-up at home, which Lydia was never to touch. Her make-up collection included several dozen lipsticks, ten different colors of blush, and five different shades of eye shadow. She, too, wore dresses, but not the cumbersome ones that Lydia wore. She wore light, flowing summer dresses, the longest of which came to just under her knees, and the shortest came to just under half the length of her thigh.

The mother herself was a widow. She never talked about the girls’ father, so they had no idea of what he had been like. She wanted only the best for Lindsey, who was her joy and pride. She always bought her jewelry and such if she desired them, and let her wander freely without a curfew. Madam Wyt was waiting for someone rich to wander into their town so that Lydia could marry him and make Madam Wyt rich quick. Until the day came where she could wed her daughter off and be rid of her, Madam Wyt assigned Lydia to the cooking,sewing, and entertaining duties. Entertaining meant that Lydia would have to play the piano or other musical instrument while Lindsey sang and their mother listened. Madam Wyt was sharply critical of Lydia, which only added to her shyness. She flattered Lindsey for any small thing, which increased Lindsey’s confidence.

The two sisters got along together well enough, but fights broke out, as they often do. Lydia always wound up apologizing to Lindsey in the end, as Madam Wyt always found a way to blame the problem on her.

On a sunny spring day, a stranger was spotted heading towards the town’s entrance gate. Not many people stopped by their tiny town, so the residents were very eager to see who was arriving, and what their purpose was. Everyone crowded around the town gate, including Madam Wyt and Lindsey, but not Lydia, straining their necks and eyes in order to catch a glimpse of the stranger.

“Ho, there!” the gate-keeper called to the mysterious person. “What is your name and purpose, friend, if that is what you are?”

“My name is Mr. Lark,” the stranger replied, pulling back the hood of his cape and revealing his face. “And I am a friend.”

The townspeople saw that the stranger was a handsome young man, black-haired and ivory-skinned. He was very tall and lean, and one would have mistook him for a vampire had one not seen him standing out in the sunlight.

“My purpose is to find a bride,” he continued. “It is my father’s wish that I choose a bride.”

A murmur went through the crowd, and Madam Wyt turned to her daughter.

“That means you and Lydia are eligible,” she said excitedly.

Lindsey yawned. “Looks are nice, but they vanish. I’m more fond of money.”

“If wed,” the young man went on, catching Madam Wyt’s and Lindsey’s attention, “the bride will be able to live comfortably for the rest of her days utilizing my father’s vast fortune.”

“I’m up for a marriage!” Lindsey cried, her eyes glinting.

“Glad to see your change of heart,” he mother smirked.

Mr. Lark stepped through the gate, and Madam Wyt and Lindsey fought their way through the crowd towards him.

“Pardon me, Mr. Lark,” Madam Wyt said, curtsying. “I am Madam Wyt, and it just so happens that I have two lovely young daughters who would be delighted to marry you?”

“Indeed?” Mr. Lark said interestedly, glancing first at Madam Wyt and then at Lindsey. “I am honored to make your acquaintance.”

“The honor is ours,” Madam Wyt replied, smiling.

“May I be so bold as to ask where you live?” he said, trying not to be imposing.

“Ask anybody you like,” Madam Wyt replied, gesturing at the crowd. “We are well-known here.”

“I shall,” Mr. Lark promised, bowing. “And now, I will depart to savor the sights of this beautiful town.”

He walked off with a nod to the two of them, heading down a street towards the town park.

Madam Wyt and Lindsey dashed home in a carriage to tell Lydia the news and prepare themselves for Mr. Lark’s visit.

“Lydia!” Madam Wyt cried, pushing open the door to her room. “You may have the chance to be wed to a dashing young man!”

Lydia sighed, knowing her mother didn’t care if the marriage would make Lydia happy or not.

“He’s rich, isn’t he?” she said, turning around with an unhappy look on her face.

“His father’s rich,” her mother corrected. “If you marry Mr. Lark, then you will be able to live lavishly!”

“Why isn’t Lindsey marrying him?” Lydia inquired. “She likes riches.”

“We don’t know Mr. Lark’s taste in women,” Madam Wyt said. “If he meets both of you, then it doubles the chances of him marrying one of you and gaining a vast fortune.”

“What if he doesn’t like either one of us?” Lydia pointed out.

“That will never happen,” her mother said, sounding certain. “He is stopping by today, so make a good impression.”

Madam Wyt shut the door behind her, leaving Lydia alone to prepare herself for Mr. Lark’s visit.

Instead of preparing herself, Lydia thought long and hard about what options she had at her disposal. She could marry Mr. Lark, and be happy or miserable. She could watch Lindsey marry Mr. Lark, eventually be wed herself to a rich stranger. Or she could run away and choose a husband herself.

Lydia had considered running away many times, but had no idea where she would go. As an hour passed and the visit loomed closer, she decided that where didn’t matter.

“I’ll just run out of the house and never look back!” she said to herself. “I’ll dress how I want and do what I want. And best of all---I’ll marry who I want!”

She crept to her door and silently opened it, looking to see if the hallway was clear. The doors to Lindsey’s and her mother’s room were closed, which meant that they were both inside, silently opened the front door and darted down the steps, feeling exhilerated. She dashed down the path in front of her house, too caught up in her thoughts to pay attention to where she was going.

“Oof!” she grunted, smacking into something solid and knocking it to the ground.

“Oof!” the solid thing grunted right back.

“I’m sorry!” Lydia cried, scrambling to her feet with some difficulty.

Shr had bowled over a very pale young man with dark hair. She would have taken him for a vampire had the sun not been shining brightly overhead.

“It’s quite all right, miss,” the young man assured her, climbing to his feet as well. “Where were you off to in such a hurry?”

Lydia thought quickly, not wanting to stick around in front of the house in case her mother came out and spotted her talking to a stranger.

“To be honest, I was going on a walk,” she told him. “The house is so stifling that I find it necessary to refresh myself every once in a while.

“Oh, so you live here?” the young man asked.

Lydia hesitated, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to tell the complete truth.

“I do,” she admitted, her conscience getting the better of her.

“Do you mind if I accompany you on your walk?” the young man asked.

Lydia’s heart fell, but she cheerily replied, “Not at all.”

The young man linked his arm with hers, and they walked off together towards a shaded road.

-Back at the Wyt house, Madam Wyt was growing very anxious. The hour for the young man to call had arrived, and already five minutes had gone by. Mr. Lark had seemed like a very punctual gentleman, so Madam Wyt was fretting over his absence.

“Where could he be, Lindsey?” she wailed distraughtly.

Lindsey shrugged, brushing her hair. “I wouldn’t know.”

“How long should we wait for him?” her mother inquired.

“I think we should re-schedule it,” Lindsey said, yawning. “The appointment was made so very suddenly.”

“I suppose,” Madam Wyt agreed reluctantly.

Lydia and the young man had progressed a bit down the shaded path, chatting amiably the whole time. She had managed to relax enough to reveal her name, and also that she was one of Madam Wyt’s daughters, which seemed to delight the young stranger.

“I just hate how my mother locks me up all day and keeps me away from men,” Lydia said, frowning slightly. “I want to be able to choose who I marry, not be lashed to some wealthy clod who I don’t even know.”

The young man laughed.

“Speaking of wealthy clods, some man was supposed to drop by the house today,” Lydia continued.

The young man cocked an eyebrow, looking a bit amused. “Oh?”

“Yes,” Lydia said, “His name is Mr. Lark or something. My mother wanted to have my sister or me wed him. He’s probably a creepy old ghoul whose only redeeming attribute is his money.”

The young man looked terribly amused now. “You think so, do you?”

“Of course!” Lydia said, her eyes wide with sincerity. “Don’t you?”

“The young man could hardly keep from shaking with laughter. “Oh, I agree completely. He must be an absolute demon.”

“Most of them are,” Lydia agreed. “It’s probably the money.”

The young man smiled all the way back to Lydia’s house. He bowed when she had ascended the stairs of the front porch and had turned towards him. She curtsied back.

“Thank you very much for your escort,” she said, smiling. “I hardly have any company, and it felt so good to get what I was feeling out.”

“You were excellent company,” the young man replied. “I should like to see you again for another walk very soon.”

Lydia blushed.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be out again,” she said hesitantly, studying her fingers.

“Then I shall have to come in,” the young man said decisively, walking up the porch steps.

“No, you can’t!” Lydia cried, looking terrified.

“Why not?” he asked, smiling.

Lydia wanted to tell him that he would be enchanted by her sister and she would never have anyone else to talk to ever again, but she couldn’t say a thing. She merely turned redder and studied her fingers even more closely.

“I was supposed to drop in much earlier, you know,” he said, watching her face. “Madam Wyt told me that she wanted to introduce me to her two daughters.”

Lydia’s eyes slowly widened in mortification as the realization dawned upon her.

“Then you’re—“ she began.

“Mr. Lark!” Madam Wyt cried, stepping from inside the house onto the front porch. “So glad that you decided to drop in after all! Why, Lydia! What are you doing out here?”

Poor Lydia wordlessly opened and closed her mouth, embarassed beyond belief.

“Never mind, never mind, come inside, come inside,” Madam Wyt invited, returning to the interior of the house.

As soon as her mother’s back was turned, Lydia spun around and attempted to flee down the porsh steps and down the dirt path. She only managed to get down the steps before Mr. Lark caught her by the arm.

“Please let me go!” she pleaded. “I didn’t know you were you!:

“You didn’t know I was me?” he laughed. “That’s very strange. I don’t know how I could be anyone else.”

“I mean, I didn’t know you were Mr. Lark,” Lydia said, terribly upset.

“Ah yes,” he smiled, still holding her arm. “The creepy old ghoul, at your service.”

He bowed in front of her, and she jerked her arm free and tried to run again. nimbly leapt after her and caught both her arms, holding them behind her back.

“Please let me go!” she cried, struggling.

“But I’ve hardly met you!” he said, pulling her back towards the house. “I need to be introduced in the proper setting.”

“You don’t need to meet me!” she cried, fighting him. “You only need to meet Lindsey. Let me go!”

“Lindsey?” Mr. Lark repeated, frowning slightly. “The girl with your mother? She had blonde hair and a light flowing green dress on if I recall correctly.”

Lydia sagged forward, deciding to give up.

“Correct,” she muttered unhappily.

Mr. Lark tried to peer around from behind her shoulder to see her face. “Are you ok?”

“I’m being detained against my will by someone who I thought was someone else and insulted,” she said flatly. “I’m extremely upset, but it’s none of your concern and there’s nothing you can do about it, so just return me to the house where I’ll be locked up again.”

Mr. Lark blinked several times in surprise. He was unused to young women being so honest. Most of them lied and made him guess what was upsetting them. Now that he knew that he was upsetting her he could try to cheer her up.

He left her to pluck a tiny flower from the garden. Lydia shifted a step backwards,wondering if she could dart away and conceal herself in town.

“You’ve got at least ten pounds of dress on yourself at the moment,” Mr. Lark said, still picking tiny flowers. He didn’t glance back at Lydia as he continued, “Ten pounds is likely to slow even a spirited woman like yourself down. I, on the other hand, am not constricted by a vest, cravat, and jacket. I could catch you extremely easily, and if I caught you THIS time I might carry you back to be sure you didn’t try to run again.”

Grasping a handful of tiny flowers, Mr. Lark rose and looked at Lydia, his smile creating a twinkle in his eye. Lydia gave him a sulky look, folded her arms, and then looked sullenly at the ground. He cautiously approached her, and when she showed no signs of suddenly attacking him began putting the flowers in her hair. Lydia whipped her head up, startled.

“What are you doing?” she cried.

“Stop moving!” Mr. Lark insisted, trying to hold her head still. “You’re going to shake all the flowers out!”

“Flowers have pollen!” Lydia told him. “Are you trying to make me sick?”

“Only because you’re making me sick with all your bellyaching,” he shot back.

As Lydia gasped in offended dignity, Mr. Lark laughed.

“I might toss a flower in there if you open your mouth any wider,” he joked.

Lydia immediately shut her mouth and turned on her heel, hurrying toward the front . Lark bounded after her and linked his arm with hers.

“It’s only proper to escort a lady inside,” he said with mock-seriousness.

“Oh? And which part of threatening to throw flowers inside ladies’ mouths is proper?” Lydia asked, batting her eyes in fake innocence.

“Oh, please excuse me,” he apologized, releasing her arm and bowing. “I quite forgot that I was not dealing with a lady. Therefore it is all right for me to skip the propriety of things.”

“It most certainly is not all right!” Lydia cried indignantly.

Inside the house, Madam Wyt crouched behind the front door, listening to every word of the banter between Lydia and Mr. Lark. She grew steadily furious, thinking Lydia was purposely trying to drive the wealthy young man away. Before her less preferred daughter could do more damage, Madam Wyt stepped back out onto the porch.

“Why haven’t you come inside yet?” she asked politely, smiling at them. “Lindsey and I have been waiting for your company, and it isn’t polite to keep ladies waiting.”

“Please excuse my sudden lack of manners,” Mr. Lark apologized, bowing deeply. “I forgot myself, and am deeply ashamed to inconvenience you.”

“It’s quite all right,” Madam Wyt said, excusing him. “I simply want you to meet both of my daughters today.”

“If Lydia’s sister is anything like her, I shall have a hard time making a decision,” Mr. Lark said cheerfully.

Madam Wyt’s smile was rather strained. “Indeed. I am pleased to inform you that Lindsey is nothing like Lydia.”

“Oh,” Mr. Lark said, looking slightly disappointed.

“She’s much better,” Lydia said qiuckly. “You’ll like her, I’m sure of it.”

Mr. Lark cast a doubtful look upon Lydia, then shrugged.

“No matter what she is like, I am always glad to make new acquaintances,” he declared, walking up the porch’s steps.

Lydia chewed her lip nervously as she followed her mother and Mr. Lark inside the house. He would choose Lindsey to marry, she was sure of it. All the same…she wished she could be his bride. His teasing, his smirky smile, and the mischevious twinkle in his eye when he was amused all combined to make Lydia long for another walk with his company. Once he laid eyes on Lindsey, however…

Madam Wyt led Mr. Lark and Lydia into the Dining Room where tea had been served for three. Lydia slumped a bit, recognizing that she was exempt from the table. She turned to go to her room.

“Madam Wyt, you seem to have erred in the number of tea cups,” Mr. Lark remarked. “I see only three, when there are four of us.”

Madam Wyt colored a little. “Well, I figured since you had met Lydia already, Mr. Lark, there would be no need for further interaction.”

“Nonsense!” Mr. Lark laughed, guiding Lydia into a seat and taking one beside her. “I should like to interact with both your daughters at the same time to help finalize my choice.”

Madam Wyt nodded, and took her seat at the head of the medium-sized table.

“Oh, and you needn’t bother about fetching another tea cup,” Mr. Lark said to Madam Wyt. “Lydia can share mine.”

Lydia cast a dark glare in his direction. He smiled back at her, pretending not to notice the look she was giving him, and held his tea cup towards her.

“I bet you poisoned it,” she hissed under he breath.

“How could I poison it?” he murmured, taking a sip. “Your mother was the one who made it.”

Lydia’s lips twitched.

“No, don’t you dare smile,” Mr. Lark scolded. “It’s very improper for a young lady to show signs of happiness.”

Lydia bit the insides of her cheeks in an attempt to stop the emerging smile. Mr. Lark watched her with amusement. Just as the smile broke free, light footsteps were heard in the hallway. Lydia’s smile immediately fell away, and she regarded the table with a downcast look.

Mr. Lark noted the sudden change in her countenance and rose to meet the other daughter. As Lindsey entered, oozing carefree coolness, Mr. Lark bowed. Her blonde hair glowed as he bent to kiss her hand.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss…Lindsey, wasn’t it?” he said politely.

Her laugh sounded like a bark. “It still is ‘Miss’, unless you’d care to make me a ‘Mrs’?”

Mr. Lark smiled. “I should certainly like to.”

Lindsey beamed as she sat opposite Mr. Lark and Lydia. Madam Wyt poured a cup of tea for Lindsey and refilled Mr. Lark’s cup, giving Lydia a quick look which conveyed that she wanted her daughter to leave.

Lydia swallowed nervously and turned to Mr. Lark to beg him to excuse her.

“Have you another engagement?” he asked before she could speak.

“No,” Lydia replied.

“Then where are you off to?” Mr. Lark asked, smiling.

Lydia realized she was standing and turned red.

“I…must attend to some business in my room,” she said quickly. “I have a letter to write.”

“A letter?” Mr. Lark repeated, looking surprised. “Young ladies these days write?”

“I know,” Lydia heard Lindsey say as she hurried to her room, “isn’t it a waste of time?”

Lydia left her door open a bit and sat down next to it so she could listen in to the conversation.

“Tell me, Miss Lindsey,” Mr. Lark was saying. “Why are you interested in marrying me? I’m sure there are many others such as myself who seek your hand. A lady as lovely as yourself is bound to have numerous admirers.”

Lydia’s cheeks burned with jealousy as her sister laughed delightedly.

“Quite true, Mr. Lark,” Lindsey replied. “But…there’s something different about you. I could sense it almost immediately.”

The difference was Mr. Lark’s wealth. Lydia bit her lip, trying to hold back frustrated tears. Couldn’t Mr. Lark sense that Lindsey was only interested in his money? Lydia liked him just as he was. Money wasn’t a part of her attraction to him. In fact, his wealth was the only thing about him that repulsed her.

“Something different, hm?” Mr. Lark said. “Any idea as to what it was?”

“Uh, your…demeanor,” Lindsey replied quickly. “You seemed so much more mature than the other young men who sought my hand.”

“I see,” Mr. Lark said. “The idea of living comfortably on my father’s money has no appeal to you?”

“It might have a tiny bit of appeal,” Lindsey allowed.

“Only a tiny bit?” Mr. Lark pressed, sounding amused. Lydia imagined him smiling at Lindsey with the twinkle in his eye. Her heart throbbed painfully.

“I…shouldn’t like to say that it had a large amount of appeal to me,” her sister said slowly. “There are things besides a potential husband’s wealth to consider when deciding whom to marry.”

“Like you would know what they were,” Lydia muttered to herself.

“So money isn’t important to you?” Mr. Lark asked.

“Not at all,” Lindsey replied, sounding sure of herself.

“I suppose I should find Lydia and ask her to wed,” Mr. Lark said, sounding disappointed.

“No!” Lindsey cried. “I was merely being modest when I said money didn’t matter! I think it’s the most important factor in finding a husband!”

“Excellent!” Mr. Lark said. “Then you are the one who is to be wedded.”

“Oh, marvelous!” Lindsey cried happily, her chair scraping as she stood up.

Lydia bit the inside of her cheek as tears welled up in her eyes. She bit as hard as she could, but she felt the tears slide hotly down her face. She quietly closed her door and buried her face in the folds of her skirt, sobbing quietly. She continued to sob as her tears soaked through her dress. Her heart felt as if it had been rendered in two; every beat of it sent new pain throughout her limbs. Mr. Lark was going to marry Lindsey. She had known it all along, of course, but a horrible hope had grown in her chest, and now it contributed to her utter misery.

She managed to stop her silent racking sobs in time to hear Mr. Lark telling Lindsey and Madam Wyt of his plans to convey Lindsey to his residence.

“I’ll have a carriage sent to fetch Miss Lindsey,” he explained. “I have some other business to attend to, so I shall have one arrive for myself.”

“You mean you are not accompanying Lindsey?” Madam Wyt asked in surprise.

“I am terribly sorry, madame,” he said, “but the business is extremely important. I do hope you’ll forgive me.”

“It’s quite all right,” Lindsey bubbled. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other, I’m certain.”

Lydia crawled into her bed and buried her face in the pillow, sobbing even harder when she heard the front door close. She lay still and managed to swallow the rest of her cries as she heard footsteps approching her door.

“Lydia?” It was her mother.

Lydia remained face-down on her pillow.

“Lydia, what is the matter?” Madam Wyt asked.

“I’m tired,” Lydia replied, sounding it.

“Very well,” her mother sighed. “I’m going out to spread the good news to the townspeople.”

Lydia waited until she heard her mother leave before she rose from the bed. There was nothing left for her here. The time was right for her to run away. This time, no Mr. Larks would stop her.

She gathered a few belongings; a favorite hairbrush and mirror, some food, and a pair of comfortable shoes. She placed them in her pillowcase and tied the top of it.

Lydia realized she wouldn’t get far if she went out in her recognizable Victorian dress. She rooted through her tiny closet, trying in vain to find something that wouldn’t give her away. When she realized it was hopeless, she searched through Lindsey’s closet. A violet dress was tucked away in the back of it, and Lydia figured Lindsey wouldn’t miss it. She tried it on and found that it came to just above her knees. Feeling a bit uncomfortable from the shortness of the dress, she looked in the mirror.

Her image was almost good enough to be unrecognizable. Perhaps if she let her hair down and put on some of Lindsey’s red lipstick…

Moments later Lydia hurried out of the house, clutching her pillowsack. She walked quicky towards the shaded path that led out of town, unconsciously trying to pull the dress down.

She walked, enjoying the silence and simple beauty of nature. The only thing that disturbed her was the short length of the dress. She tried to tug it down continuously to no avail.

As she walked, the sun set and dusk began to darken the sky. Lydia felt goosebumps rise on her skin and shivered. Being outside at night made her uncomfortable, but there was no place for her to stop and rest. She again tried to tug the dress down, with the same result.

A distant noise behind her made Lydia stop. It was a sort of distant clatter or rattle, as if a carriage was approaching.

Lydia gasped with fear. People from the town must have discovered her absence and come after her!

She hurried down the path for a short bit before realizing that she could be easily spotted. Lydia crouched low in some bushes lining the path and listened to the carriage approach. She prayed the driver wouldn’t spot her, though the violet of the dress stood out against the green of the bush.

The carriage drew closer and closer, before finally grinding to a stop in front of her hiding spot. The driver was someone she didn’t recognize, a rather well-dressed older man in a white wig. He looked behind him as the door of the carriage opened and the passenger climbed out.

Lydia nearly choked in surprise. The passenger was Mr. Lark!

Mr. Lark dusted himself off and glanced up at the driver.

“For Heaven’s sake, Farley!” he exclaimed. “Why are you wearing that blasted wig?”

Farley colored slightly but maintained his composure.

“I am sorry, my lord,” Farley apologized. “I merely enjoy older fashions.”

“Some fashions are dead for a reason,” Mr. Lark muttered to himself.

Lydia smiled, then quickly remembered that he had married Lindsey.

“Where did that girl go?” he asked out loud.

“What girl, sir?” Farley asked.

“There was a girl walking a distance ahead of the carriage a few moments ago,” Mr. Lark said. “I could have sworn that she looked like…well, it’s no matter. If there was a girl, she obviously wants to expose herself to dangers by hiding.”

Lydia shifted uncomfortably, and the bush rattled a bit. Mr. Lark jerked his head sharply in the direction of the noise.

“Was that some sort of beast, sir?” Farley asked, sounding frightened.

“Oh yes, a terribly wicked beast,” Mr. Lark replied. “It causes no end of grief to innocent men looking for it.”

Lydia colored.

“Hello, Lydia,” he said, his face suddenly appearing in front of hers through the bush.

Lydia shrieked loudly and fell backwards onto her butt, causing a dozen sleeping birds to awaken and fly off overhead.

Mr. Lark smiled, enjoying her startled state.

“May I ask what you’re doing out so far from town? And at such a late hour?” he inquired.

Lydia glared at him furiously and climbed to her feet.

“I’m running away,” she said angrily. “And there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”

“If I recall correctly, I stopped you several times,” he replied. “What makes you think I can’t?”

Lydia tried to form a reply, but couldn’t. She spun on her heel and stomped down the path, tensing for the grip on her arm she thought would come. When none did, she looked behind her.

Mr. Lark was rummaging through her pillowcase.

“Hey!” she cried, hurrying over to him. “You can’t look through those!”

“What are these things?” he asked, sounding bewildered.

“They’re my provisions!”she said, blushing.

Mr. Lark looked over the objects with an amused smirk.

“A hairbrush, a mirror, some smashed bread, and a pair of shoes,” he listed. “You expected to survive on your own with these?”

Farley snickered.

Lydia blushed even more. “I hadn’t really thought about it, ok? Give them back to me!”

“Oh, I will,” he said, re-tying the pillowcase. “As soon as you get into the carriage.”

“No!” Lydia cried, taking a step back. “I’m not going back to the house, or the town! There’s nothing left for me!”

Mr. Lark frowned, but before he could speak, Lydia directed some of her anger towards him.

“And I would never get in the same carriage with you, Mr. Lark!” she snapped. “You married my sister even after she made it obvious that she was only interested in your money!”

“I most certainly did!” he replied, unabashed.

“Then you…you’re perfectly suited to each other!” Lydia sobbed in defeat.

“Perfectly suited?” Mr. Lark repeated, puzzled. “You think that she married me?”

Blinking, Lydia noticed that there was no wedding ring on Mr. Lark’s hand.

“But…but…” she stammered. “You said—“

“I said that she was the one to be wedded,” he smiled, tracing her left cheek with his thumb. “I didn’t say to whom she was to be wedded. My father sent me to this town to find a bride for him. He’s grown lonely in his old age.”

Lydia’s mouth opened and closed, but she was unable to say anything. Mr. Lark stopped tracing her cheek to laugh at her expression.

“Will you climb into the carriage with me now?” he asked. “Or do you still hate me?”

Lydia started to try and respond, but Mr. Lark slipped an arm around her waist and guided her towards the carriage.

“I really don’t care what you say, you’re coming along with me whether you want to or not,” he informed her.

He helped her in and closed both doors, setting the pillowcase on the seat beside him.

“Farley!” he called. “Take us back to town, if you please!”

“Very well, sir!” Farley replied, cracking the whip.

The carriage lurched forward and turned back the way it had come. Mr. Lark suddenly gasped in horror.

“Merciful heavens!” he cried. “Miss Wyt, I think I can see your knees in the dress!”

Lydia turned scarlet and immediately began trying to tug the dress down.

“I’m sorry!” she cried. “It’s hopeless! I was trying to disguise myself because I didn’t want anyone to recognize me.”

Mr. Lark laughed at her self-consciousness.

“And I believe you have something on your face,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“What? Oh, that’s lipstick,” Lydia said, wiping it off on the back of her hand. “Another attempt at disguising myself.”

Mr. Lark took in her entire appearance with a smile.

“Oh, Miss Lydia,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You’re an awful mess. You have leaves in your tangled hair, red smeared on your lips, and an indecent dress on. What am I to think of you?”

Lydia lowered her head in shame.

“Marriage is what first came to mind, but I don’t know, you might be even wilder than your appearance suggests,” he said.

Lydia stared at him, her mouth dropping open in surprise.

“Y…do you…do you really mean…” she stammered.

“I most certainly do,” he replied, leaning forward.

“Then…but…” she babbled.

Mr. Lark sat up and sighed.

“Am I going to kiss you tonight or do I have to knock you out with the mirror?” he asked, shaking the pillowcase. “Knowing you, I’ll probably have to use the mirror, hairbrush, and BOTH shoes before you pass out.”

Lydia laughed. “I don’t think it’s proper for a gentleman to kiss a lady on the lips when they aren’t married yet.”

“Kiss you on the lips?” Mr. Lark cried. “My, aren’t we presumptuous?”

“There’s no reason for you to ask permission to kiss my hand!” Lydia pointed out.

Now that you mention it, it does sound like a good idea,” Mr. Lark murmured thoughtfully.

“What sounds like a good idea?” Lydia asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Very well, I accept your invitation,” he decided.

Lydia frowned. “I didn’t invite—“

Mr. Lark cut off the rest of her words by leaning forward and kissing her softly on the lips. For a few moments, Lydia floated. Mr. Lark leaned back, causing her to return to the carriage, a big fooish grin plastered on her face.

“I can see how much that displeased you,” Mr. Lark noted, smiling.

“Oh, tremendously,” she said. “Improper, very improper. I forbid you from doing it again.”

“You forbid me, do you?” he asked, grinning mischieviously.

“Absolutely,” she replied, folding her arms.

“I suppose I should respect your decency as a lady,” he admitted, sitting up and looking out the window.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lydia sag in disappointment. He smiled secretly and then slapped his forehead as if he had forgotten something.

“I completely forgot!” he cried.

Lydia stared at him, wide-eyed and bewildered. “Forgot what?”

“That I was not dealing with a lady!” he said. “Therefore, I can skip decency and propriety.”

“I AM a lady!” Lydia protested.

Mr. Lark cocked an eyebrow. “You certainly aren’t dressed like one.”

“You know that I was trying to disguise myself!” she fumed.

“Yes,yes, and you look terribly cute,” he said, seating himself next to her and looking into her eyes.

He slid his arms around her. “Now hush and let me kiss you.”

Her displeasure soon passed, and the two lived in happiness for the rest of their days.

As for Lindsey, she lived in relative happiness with Mr. Lark’s father. His wealth made her look past his age, and he passed away two or three years after the marriage. Lindsey went home to her mother, and the two of them lived in comfort for the rest of their lives. They often wondered what had happened to Lydia and Mr. Lark, but not enough to actually try and find out.

And so our story ends on a happy note. Many blessings to those who are seeking love and contentment.

THE END