Follies and Nonsense

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by Martin Hunnicutt


  “Netherfield is almost six miles from Meryton, Mr. Wickham. My family estate, Longbourn is located halfway between. During pleasant days, we often walk into town.”

  “Young ladies who walk into town?” he asked. “I cannot imagine fine ladies with such freedoms.”

  “Hertfordshire is a congenial place sir and our neighbours all know us. Everyone cares for all ladies and children in the area,” Elizabeth replied.

  “A friendly neighbourhood will make my sojourn in Meryton that much more pleasant,” he assured her. “May I ask, how long has Mr. Darcy been staying at Netherfield?”

  “He has been in company about a month,” replied Elizabeth. “We understand that he is a man of very large property in Derbyshire.”

  “Yes, his estate provides a clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more knowledgeable concerning Mr. Darcy than myself for I am connected with his family from infancy,” stated Mr. Wickham.

  Elizabeth could not hide her look of surprise on her face. Smiling thinly, Wickham explained, “My assertion surprises you, Mrs. Hamilton, after seeing the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you acquainted with Mr. Darcy?”

  “As much as a month’s acquaintance will allow,” she answered carefully. But then she smiled and added, “We have dined and danced in company with Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy along with others from the neighbourhood.”

  “And how do you find his company?” asked Wickham.

  “Mr. Bingley’s company?” asked Elizabeth in a vacant manner, as she played her cards.

  “I do not know Bingley,” replied Wickham as it was his turn to play cards. “I meant Mr. Darcy. How do you find his company?”

  She considered playing coy but her good sense overrode such notions so she answered simply. “At first, Mr. Darcy appeared a shy and quiet gentleman, but I believe he improves upon acquaintance.”

  “Truly?” Wickham asked. “I have only my opinion as to his being agreeable and perhaps I have known him too long to be a fair judge of his character. But I believe your pleasant opinion of him would astonish many people.”

  “Really? What would astonish them?” Elizabeth asked. “We are an amiable folk in Hertfordshire and understand that Mr. Darcy has a reserved character but he is well-received in each home.”

  “I am sorry to hear such,” said Wickham, after a short interruption for his card play. “Generally, the world is blinded by Darcy’s fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him as above reproach.”

  “I should not take him to be an ill-tempered man, even on my slight acquaintance.” At Elizabeth’s words, Wickham shook his head.

  “I wonder,” said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, “whether he is likely to be in Hertfordshire much longer.”

  “I do not know; but I heard nothing of his going away when last we all met. Would your plans to join the _____shire be affected by his being in the neighbourhood?” she asked.

  “No, I shall not be driven away. If Mr. Darcy wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go,” insisted Wickham. “We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason to avoid him.”

  With such strong words standing in opposition to the opinion she had formed of Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth’s instincts were to pose additional questions but because the current hand of cards was ending, she waited for Lydia’s attention to focus a new cards before she began.

  “How is it you are acquainted with Mr. Darcy? A life-long acquaintance I believe you said…”

  The smile that brightened his face did not reach his eyes as Mr. Wickham turned his attention to Elizabeth. “Darcy’s father, the late Mr. George Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed. The son’s behaviour has been scandalous; but I believe I could forgive him anything, rather than disgrace the memory of his father.”

  Elizabeth’s interest of the subject was not satisfied, but the shortness of their acquaintance prevented further inquiry. Mr. Wickham spoke on general topics including Meryton society with gentle but intelligible gallantry.

  “It was the prospect of good society,” he added, “which was my chief inducement to enter the _____shire. I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me further by his account of their present quarters, and the excellent company Meryton offered them. I have been disappointed in my profession but I must have employment and society.”

  “I believe all young men must seek some type of employment,” Elizabeth said. “And I am sorry to hear you have been disappointed in your profession.”

  “A military life is not what I intended for my life, but circumstances made it impossible. The church ought to have been my profession; I was brought up for the church, and I should have been in possession of a most valuable living today, had it pleased Mr. Darcy.”

  “What has Mr. Darcy done to prevent your taking orders, Mr. Wickham?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Mr. George Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift, the rectory in the village of Kympton in Derbyshire. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply and thought he had done it; but when the living became available, it was given elsewhere.”

  “How could that be?” cried Elizabeth. “Was the will set aside?”

  “No, but there was an informality in the terms of the bequest to give me no hope with the law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to treat it as a recommendation, and he asserted that I forfeited my claim to the living. When the living became vacant two years ago, the position was given to another man.”

  Thinking for a moment, Elizabeth asked, “May I ask Mr. Wickham if you could have taken orders and sought another living?”

  After these words, she pointed to her cousin sitting near Jane and explained, “My cousin seems a man without your ability to speak eloquently. Surely a man with your talents would have been singled out for a suitable parish within the church?”

  “Ah, but Mr. Darcy deprived me of all funds that would have allowed such an education,” Wickham replied quickly though Elizabeth thought his face disturbed by her question.

  Elizabeth’s face mirrored her internal conflict – some sympathy for Wickham’s plight warred with her regard for Mr. Darcy. Wickham attempted to explain himself further, “I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may have spoken my opinions of his actions to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men.”

  “I am shocked by the report of your treatment at Mr. Darcy’s hands,” Elizabeth replied. “Why have you not made this news public?”

  “Until I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him.”

  “Then why have you made this knowledge so public at a card table surrounded by acquaintances of less than three hours?” she wondered.

  “Mr. Wickham, where in Derbyshire is the village of Kympton?”

  “Have you ever been to Derbyshire, Mrs. Hamilton?” he asked in return.

  Elizabeth smiled. “I have never been north of Hertfordshire, Mr. Wickham. Derbyshire is many miles away.”

  Inclining his head in agreement, Wickham answered her question. “Kympton is a prosperous village situated between two great estates, Pemberley and Mount Pleasant. I am certain that if the Earl of Bailey had known of Mr. Darcy’s treatment, I might have had redress but the old man’s secretary would not assist me.”

  Elizabeth was silent for a moment, “Did the old earl have a secretary? I have heard no one say so.”

  “But what can have been his motive? What can have induced Mr. Darcy to behave so?” she asked.

  “Mr. Darcy bears a thorough, determined dislike of me born from jealousy. Had his father liked me less, he might have borne with me better. He could not bear the competition and preference which was often given me.”

  “I had not thought so ill of Mr. Darcy,” Eliza
beth said quietly.

  “I will not trust myself on the subject,” replied Wickham. “I can hardly be just to him.”

  Elizabeth was again deep in thought, and remained silent until Wickham asked, “Have I offended you with my story?”

  “No, Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth assured him. “But I believe this to be very strange. I wonder that Mr. Darcy’s honour and pride have not made him reconcile with you.”

  “It is his wounded honour and pride that are the cause of my misfortune,” replied Wickham. “When his pride is not wounded, Mr. Darcy can be liberal and generous, give his money freely, display hospitality, assist his tenants, and relieve the poor.”

  To Elizabeth these were not acts driven by pride but rather the duties of a landlord; however, she would not argue with Mr. Wickham so she allowed him to continue with his description of Mr. Darcy. “He has pride, with some brotherly affection for his sister and this makes him a very kind and careful guardian.”

  “What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?”

  He shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy but she is too much like her brother and very proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing. She is sixteen now and highly accomplished. Since her father's death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her education.”

  Abandoning forays into other subjects, Elizabeth asked, “From your description of him, I am astonished at Mr. Darcy’s intimacy with Mr. Bingley! How can Bingley, who is so good natured, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Bingley?”

  “As I mentioned earlier, I do not know Bingley at all.”

  Elizabeth nodded, “Of course. It is just that Mr. Bingley is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man.”

  “Perhaps Darcy dissembles – he can please where he chooses. He can be a good companion if he thinks it worth his while. His pride never deserts him; but with the titled and rich he is liberal-minded, rational, honourable, and agreeable.”

  When the whist party ended shortly afterwards, the players gathered round the other table and Mr. Collins stood between Jane and Mrs. Phillips with Elizabeth beside her sister.

  “And how have you enjoyed the afternoon, Mr. Collins?” asked Elizabeth.

  “I lost every hand, Cousin Elizabeth. But it was not of the least importance –a mere trifle,” he assured her.

  “Mr. Collins, is it an inconvenience?” asked Mrs. Phillips, prepared to return the handful of coins he had lost.

  “No, Mrs. Phillips,” he replied. “Do not make yourself uneasy. I know very well that when persons sit down to a card-table, they must take their chances of these things, and happily I am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but thanks to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed beyond the necessity of regarding little matters.”

  “Mr. Collins, may I ask an indulgence?” inquired Elizabeth.

  “Certainly! Certainly!” he replied.

  “Thank you. With the newness of our acquaintance, my sisters and I would prefer that you follow convention and use our proper titles,” Elizabeth replied. “It is much too soon for us to use familiar greetings.”

  “But cousin, we are family!” the clergyman protested.

  “We are not close family sir,” she replied. “Our grandfathers were cousins and our acquaintance is only three days. My sisters and I will be more comfortable if you followed convention in our social sphere.”

  Mr. Wickham's attention was caught by the exchange and after observing Mr. Collins for a few moments, he asked Elizabeth in a low voice, “Mrs. Hamilton, forgive my inquiry but is your cousin intimately acquainted with a family named de Bourgh in Kent?”

  Surprized by Wickham’s question, Elizabeth explained, “Lady Catherine de Bourgh has very lately given him a living. We have only known Mr. Collins for a very short time and he has not disclosed how he was introduced to her notice.”

  “I must tell you that Lady Catherine de Bourgh is aunt to Mr. Darcy.”

  “Indeed…” Elizabeth inclined her head. “But I know nothing of Lady Catherine's connexions. Until two days ago, I did not she existed.”

  “Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, has a large fortune,” Wickham whispered, as is sharing a secret. “And the mother’s favourite wish is that the cousins unite the two estates.”

  This information created a sudden flame of jealousy in Elizabeth – an unfamiliar emotion but she recognized it and schooled her face not to display the emotion before she stated, “Mr. Collins speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her daughter; but I suspect his gratitude guides his praises.”

  “I remember Lady Catherine as arrogant and conceited,” continued Wickham. “I have not seen her for many years, but I remember she was dictatorial to everyone. She claims to be remarkably sensible and clever; but I believe she derives her abilities from her rank and fortune.”

  Elizabeth admitted that Mr. Wickham had well-reasoned complaints. The rest of the ladies had their share of Mr. Wickham’s company during the refreshments. There could be no conversation in the noise of the parlour at the end of the afternoon, but Mr. Wickham's manners recommended him to everybody.

  Elizabeth came away from Aunt Phillip’s party with her head full of the contrast between the Darcy she knew and the man described by Mr. Wickham. She remained generally silent on the walk home as Lydia talked incessantly of the officers and the card games.

  Mr. Collins, who would join the family for supper again that evening and described in details the civility of Mrs. Phillips. He crowded Miss Bennet along the road and said more than all the others on the walk to Longbourn.

  ++**++

  Chapter 23.

  Elizabeth Searches for Truth

  At supper, Mrs. Bennet noticed Elizabeth’s distraction. When the family retired to the parlour, she set Jane, Mary and Kitty to entertain Mr. Collins in chairs near the window, and asked Elizabeth to join her on the sofa near the fireplace.

  “My dear, what has so distracted you today?” she asked her daughter as Mrs. Brice brought Matthew into the parlour to visit.

  “I am confused Mamma,” Elizabeth admitted. “We met a new officer and he has told me a tale that I cannot accept.”

  Mrs. Bennet took Matthew first, kissing him, hugging him and playing with his hands. “Then you must take your time and find the truth of the matter. Whom can you speak with for the truth?”

  “I will make inquiries of many but in the end, I believe only one man will hold the answers,” she replied, watching her mother play with her son.

  “Is it something you can resolve this evening?”

  “I fear not,” Elizabeth admitted.

  “Then let us enjoy Matthew tonight...” Mrs. Bennet replied. Casting her gaze toward their guest, she added, “And help me distract Mr. Collins from your sister.”

  Carrying Matthew toward the window, Mrs. Bennet said, “Mr. Collins, may I introduce you to my grandson, Master Matthew Hamilton?”

  Mr. Collins managed to nod once in the child’s direction but Elizabeth believed that the man did not seem to register her son’s presence until Jane took the boy into her arms.

  “My nephew is a sweet child,” Jane said and suddenly Mr. Collins could do nothing but agree. However, when he attempted to speak to the child and made eye contact, Matthew became distressed and began to cry. When Mr. Collins leaned closer, Matthew’s cries became loud wails. Moving to rescue her son, Elizabeth took Matthew into her arms and the boy immediately quieted.

  “He is tired, Mr. Collins,” Mrs. Bennet explained though Mary and Jane exchanged glances while Lydia and Kitty giggled.

  Looking around the room at the ladies watching his reaction, Collins smiled pleasantly and returned to his conversation with Jane while Elizabeth took Matthew to his room and put him to bed. She remained with her son until Mrs. Brice returned from her dinner with the servants and then joined her family as they
prepared to sit down for supper.

  Mr. Collins continued to pay Jane all civilities and praise that Elizabeth, Mary and Mrs. Bennet were unable to deflect. At the end of the evening, the Longbourn carriage was once again called to return Mr. Collins to the inn at Meryton.

  ++**++

  Once Sarah Barrow helped the sisters out of their gowns and into night gowns, they took turns brushing and braiding their hair. While Jane brushed her sister’s hair, Elizabeth related to Jane the story that Mr. Wickham told of Mr. Darcy. Jane listened with astonishment and concern.

  “I do not believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr. Bingley's regard and yet Mr. Wickham has such an amiable appearance. There must be a mistake somewhere – something that is not otherwise explained,” Jane insisted as she caught Elizabeth's eye in the mirror. “They have both been deceived in some way or other.”

  “Possibly but what shall I do?”

  Jane considered her sister closely for a moment before she asked, “Why would you do anything Lizzy?”

  Elizabeth grimaced and Jane turned her sister around to look her in the face. “Is it Mr. Darcy you are thinking of with such concern?”

  “I do want to think well of him and therefore must prove that Mr. Wickham is mistaken,” the younger sister confessed.

  “My dearest Lizzy, how will you dispel such a story?”

  “My mind is greatly confused, Jane. Without any length of acquaintance, Mr. Wickham shared his tale and left all of the men mentioned with questionable character. How shall I ask Mr. Darcy to contradict it?”

  “Is there anyone who might know the particulars without embarrassing Mr. Darcy or Mr. Wickham?” Jane asked.

  “I shall write to the steward at Mount Pleasant.”

  “Can you write to your father-in-law and ask if he has a receipt for driving away a suitor?” Jane teased to make her sister smile.

  “What suitor?” Elizabeth asked feigning confusion.

 

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