Consequence of Jealousy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Aubrey Anderson

  Shocked evidently filled her features, as well as her sister’s, for Mr. Wickham took care to explain straight away, “I grew up at Darcy’s estate, Pemberley. We were childhood friends. I was the son of the steward, and his father, Mr. George Darcy was my godfather.”

  “What an astonishing coincidence!” Elizabeth exclaimed. Perhaps Mr. Darcy did not know his childhood friend and godbrother was to be stationed in Meryton. “Is Mr. Darcy aware that you are quartered here, with the militia?”

  Mr. Wickham’s face turned sour at the mention of her fiance. “Indeed, he is not, Miss Elizabeth. We, ah, had a bit of a falling out shortly after my godfather died. I have not spoken to him since.”

  Elizabeth frowned. Upon hearing the news that Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy knew each other, she had immediately assumed that Mr. Darcy had purchased Mr. Wickham’s commission. Living at home with a mother and sisters obsessed with the militia, as well as a fondness for hysterics, Elizabeth knew that her grandfather had considered purchasing a commission for her Uncle Gardiner, but had judged it to be too expensive. Falling out or no, Mr. Darcy’s alleged act of purchasing a commission for his childhood friend was significant. It enabled his former friend to join the militia as an officer, enabling him to work his way up the ranks, if he so chose.

  Once again, Elizabeth was confronted by the complexity of Mr. Darcy. A man without faults indeed, she mused.

  “May I ask what the falling out was about, Mr. Wickham?” If anything, when Mr. Darcy returned to Meryton, he would most likely see Mr. Wickham again, or hear about him. Mr. Wickham had charmed every woman in the room, and she could already feel the headache that was to come once Lydia and Kitty brought news to their mama. At the very least, Elizabeth could attempt to warn him that he was in town.

  “I do not wish to speak ill of your fiance, Miss Elizabeth, especially as it would do nothing but sow discord.” Mr. Wickham explained diplomatically. “However, as it will affect your future with him, I believe you should know.”

  “Then I will discuss the matter with him.” Elizabeth replied calmly. That seemed to displease Mr. Wickham, and he closed the small distance between them.

  “Perhaps it is best that you hear my side of the story, before applying to Darcy.” he suggested lightly, although his expression was upset. Elizabeth frowned, but glanced over to her aunt, who was keeping a subtle eye on them. As was everyone else. Elizabeth could not leave now, not without creating another story of a cuckolded lover.

  “Mr. Darcy was always...jealous that his fathered loved me more,” Mr. Wickham started confidently, “and our relationship did not improve with his father’s death. Indeed it was further strained by the fact that my godfather left me a living upon his estate worth three thousand pounds. I had set my heart on joining the Church early on, and well, Mr. Darcy did not like it. He refused me the living, and ordered me from Pemberley. I have not seen him since.” He finished, his gaze wandering off, as though he were lost in memories from the day in question.

  At Elizabeth and Jane’s shocked expressions, he rushed to console them. “Indeed, Miss Elizabeth, due to his acknowledgement of what a true jewel you are, I can only assume that he has changed since then. I believe so. So you must not feel sorry for me!” He admonished them playfully, “For as you can see, I have made plenty of friends and have a new occupation.”

  At his abrupt change in temper, Elizabeth forced a smile and echoed her sister’s soft apologies.

  “Ladies, ladies,” Mr. Wickham admonished them again, “I have not wanted for anything, and am in good health. What more may I ask for? Now if you'll excuse me,” his gaze drifted off again, this time to the young woman who had approached them with Miss Goulding, a Miss Mary King, “I have imposed upon enough of your time. I wish you well on your engagement, Miss Elizabeth, Darcy truly is marrying Meryton’s brightest jewel.” With that parting compliment, he left them.

  Elizabeth wished to discuss Mr. Wickham’s intent, as she found it rather shocking that he would reveal this to her in casual conversation, but with a few exchanged looks between herself and Jane, and then from Mary, she knew that she should wait until they returned home. If anything, she did not want to give the gossip mill anything else to feast upon than it already had.

  Chapter Seven

  “Lizzie! Hurry!” her mama had sent Lydia to send for her, down to their best parlour, to receive their guests. It was, of course, Mr. Bingley and his sisters, come to deliver the invitation to their ball, in person. Mr. Bingley, being the amiable gentleman that he was, had sent a servant with a note, stating that he intended to call in person directly after lunch. The Bennets had barely been able to finish their breakfast before their mama began to bark orders at them, as well as Mrs. Hill and their maid, Emma, to prepare everything for Mr. Bingley’s visit. Just because Elizabeth had captured Mr. Darcy, did not mean that her mama was going to let her guard down for an instant. Not when she had the possibility of two more daughters being married by the new year!

  Mr. Collins had not made a favourable impression upon her from the start, but he had apologised most graciously, and had shown that he was aware of the distress that he had caused her family before Lizzie’s engagement. Now if only she could persuade him to leave Lucas Lodge and take up a room in the inn. She had not been aware that Sir William had introduced himself shortly after Mr. Collins had fled Longbourn, and she was sorry for it.

  “I am coming, Lydia! I am sure Mr. Bingley will not vacate Longbourn because I was not there to receive him the instant he walked through the door!”

  Lydia scoffed. “Don’t let loose your temper on me, Lizzie, simply because Mama bade you come. It’s not my fault you must marry the most horrid man in Derbyshire! Between you and Mary, I shall not have a moment’s peace until Christmas!” she ended rather dramatically, referencing the fact that Mr. Collins had arrived not half an hour ago to escort Mary on her usual walk to the lending library in town. No doubt their mama had informed Mr. Collins’ of Mary’s comings and goings while he resided under the kindness of Sir William and Lady Lucas.

  “I am sorry, Lydia.” Elizabeth acknowledged her fault.

  Lydia shrugged, leaning against the doorway in a rather unladylike manner as she watched her sister finish with her toilette. “You shall never guess what Mr. Wickham has been saying about town, Lizzie!” she teased, referring to the rumours that had spread rapidly throughout Meryton after the card party. Mr. Darcy’s perfidy against Mr. Wickham, as well as his proud and haughty disposition, was being spoken of in every drawing room in Meryton. The fact that Elizabeth had been speaking to Mr. Wickham only made the rumours even more delicious.

  Before her sister could get another word in, Elizabeth put an end to the conversation sharply. “I do not wish to hear, Lydia. The last thing we need in this house is more gossip, and if you do not cease immediately I shall tell Mama that you are impugning Mr. Darcy.”

  Lydia snorted in derision. “Good heavens Lizzie, you have been engaged less than a week and you have become as proud as the man himself!” With those parting words, she flounced off.

  Elizabeth sighed as she watched her sister leave. She would have to speak to her papa about Lydia’s behaviour later, as well as Mr. Wickham’s story. A week ago, she would have been filled with righteous indignation on the Wickham’s behalf, but now, she could only feel suspicion. She and Jane had discussed it last night. There were several parts of it that did not ring true.

  Mr. Wickham had only recently joined the militia, as they had been stationed in Meryton for some time. Yet Mr. Darcy was not in any sort of mourning for his father. And it did not make sense to Elizabeth, that he should seek her out to accuse Mr. Darcy of ungentlemanly behaviour, when all of the rumours around Meryton buzzed that Mr. Darcy’s ungentlemanly --(and her unladylike)-- behaviour had resulted in their rushed engagement. If Mr. Darcy had truly been ungentlemanly, then how could Mr. Wickham have not known that Mr. Darcy hadn’t forced himself into her room, or on her, and was caught? The first vers
ion of the rumour, that she had been caught in Mr. Darcy’s bed had been one of many.

  He could not have known, yet he chose to tell her a story that may have caused her even more unease about marrying Mr. Darcy.

  Elizabeth did not know if she even liked Mr. Darcy. She knew that she would have to, unless she wished to end up a miserable caricature of her parents, but she was willing to try. He also seemed willing, and it was something she had never expected from him. And that bothered her. She had prided herself on being able to see past the follies and vices of others, and into their true motivations. Yet she had not done so with Mr. Darcy.

  Was there more to the man? Or was he merely not as bad as he seemed upon their first meeting, but still arrogant and proud?

  Before her mother could call her again, Elizabeth hurried down to receive their guests. Mr. Bingley, Miss Bingley, and Mrs. Hurst sat, awaiting her presence. Her mama sat opposite Miss Bingley, smug as a cat that caught the canary, as she watched Mr. Bingley try and fail to keep his eyes off of Jane.

  Instantly, Mr. Bingley was to his feet. She was surprised he had managed to keep his gaze off Jane long enough to register her presence, but he was one of the most caring gentlemen she had ever been introduced to. “My dear Miss Elizabeth, how good it is to see you!” His manner was jovial, and in his hand, he held the Bennet family’s invitation to his ball as an afterthought. “My sisters and I had just finished giving my best wishes to your family, and now I must give them to you. I hope you shall make Darcy the happiest of men, for I know he is endeavouring to do the same. I wish you every happiness with your marriage.”

  Elizabeth thanked Mr. Bingley as graciously as she could, for she was truly thankful for his presence here. He could at least deter Miss Bingley from making any overt insults disguised as friendly conversation. Unfortunately, she would have to contend with the subtle ones.

  “Sit, sit Lizzie!” her mama urged her, as she practically shoved a cup of tea into her hands. “Thank you, Mama.” Elizabeth murmured, watching Miss Bingley’s smile widen at her mother’s manners, or lack thereof. Mrs. Hurst noticed it too.

  “Although Mr. Hurst sadly could not be here, Miss Elizabeth, I would like you know that he too offers his congratulations on your engagement to Mr. Darcy.” It was much more gracious than Elizabeth could have dared hope coming from a Bingley female.

  “I thank you and Mr. Hurst, Mrs. Hurst. It is so good to have the support of friends, especially for Mr. Darcy.” Mrs. Hurst murmured an affirmative to her response.

  Miss Bingley gave her a sardonic look above her tea cup. “Indeed, Miss Eliza, in times like these we truly understand who our true friends, who wish to aid us, really are. How unfortunate to have so few within Meryton.” She finished her first jab with a triumphant smirk that was gone the instant it touched her lips.

  Before her mama could react, no doubt in her usual boisterous way to defend her second born, curiously her papa stepped into the room, requesting Mrs. Bennet’s presence for some unknown errand. Although she was clearly irritated, Mrs. Bennet obliged. Given that Lydia and Kitty, the moment they had been able, had scampered off to Meryton, and Mary was being escorted by Mr. Collins, then she could well understand her mama’s approbation. Her papa, thank the Lord in heaven, had realised that she would be easily overwhelmed with a daughter engaged and a suitor in the parlour.

  Mr. Bingley and Jane had not stopped their conversation, although Elizabeth could see Mr. Bingley had shifted his hand to brush Miss Bingley’s, in an effort to exude some control over his wayward sister. Clearly, he was familiar enough, to know that her comment was a warm up to the encore.

  “You are referring to the rumours surrounding Mr. Darcy and me?” Elizabeth quizzed Miss Bingley, although she knew exactly to what she was referring.

  “You are correct, Miss Eliza. How unfortunate that such rumours were based our home, the day you and Miss Bennet left Netherfield. Whomever spread such false innuendoes chose to do so at an opportune time.”

  “It would have hardly have mattered when the rumours were spread, Caroline.” Mrs. Hurst interjected rather harshly. Elizabeth quelled the shock that coloured her features for only a moment, before viewing their exchange with greater interest.

  Miss Bingley shot her sister a disapproving look. “Indeed it does, Louisa. If we do not know when the rumours were spread, we would not be able to find the servant who spread such vileness about Mr. Darcy!”

  “And have you?” Elizabeth queried.

  Miss Bingley seemed shaken for a moment. “Have I what, Miss Eliza?”

  “Have you found the person responsible for such rumours?”

  “We have not, Miss Elizabeth.” Mrs. Hurst answered for her sister. She glanced anxiously at her brother on her other side, “We, of course, spoke to the servants, but none could or would pinpoint the servant who claimed……..” here she trailed off, unwilling to continue.

  It was no matter at all, as her sister took the care to finish for her. “Indeed, Miss Eliza,” Miss Bingley smirked, “you and Louisa shall become the dearest of friends! Isn’t that right, Louisa?” she cajoled her sister, turning to simper sweetly at her.

  Elizabeth did not quite know how to respond to that, nor could she interpret the look that came over Mrs. Hurst’s face. She had to respond somehow.

  “I believe it to be futile to find the source of the rumours. Perhaps our leaving Netherfield on that particular day was but a coincidence. Anyone could have stated that witnessed whatever version of events they were peddling. In a town as small as this, there is not one servant who is not related or connected in some way to another in Meryton.” Elizabeth tried to keep her speech short, as she was uncomfortable discussing this matter with the Bingley sisters.

  Miss Bingley suppressed her sneer in time. “I was unaware that small, country towns were so much trouble, Miss Eliza.”

  Elizabeth shrugged. “We are all but people. And people are everywhere, including London. I am surprised that you are surprised, Miss Bingley. I imagine the rumour mill must be worse there than here.”

  Miss Bingley’s voice and face were cool. “I assure you, Miss Eliza, that for some, the Hertfordshire rumour mill is entirely worse.”

  It was then that Mr. Bingley interjected.

  “We have had a letter early this morning, Miss Elizabeth, from Darcy. He says he will be arriving sometime around dinner time. Thank goodness his business did not delay him any further. It is barely a week to our ball at Netherfield!”

  “Did Mr. Darcy write to you, to inform you of this, Miss Eliza?” Miss Bingley snidely queried.

  Elizabeth smothered her smile. Although he had not technically written to her a second time, in his first letter, a mere three days ago, he had informed her that he would be gone but two or three days, and if not he would write to her again. His relaxed approach in that manner was also somewhat pleasing. He was not checking up on her, like one would a naughty child. Like one would her younger sisters. Despite what everyone else in Meryton may think, barring Mr. Bingley and perhaps, Mrs. Hurst, he did not believe her to be the originator of the rumours.

  “Indeed he has, Miss Bingley.”

  Her calm reply to Caroline’s sneering comments seemed to shock her into silence. Elizabeth knew it would not last. As did apparently Mrs. Hurst.

  “Have you made any wedding plans, as of yet, Miss Elizabeth?” she inquired politely, aware of her sister’s bruised ego.

  “Nothing concrete. I have never been much for fashion,” here she ignored Miss Bingley’s low, yet contemptuous snort, “but the one plan I have that is definitive is that we shall go to my aunt and uncle’s in Gracechurch Street, to shop for a wedding clothes.”

  Mrs. Hurst smiled. “It is good to have family in London, who know all of the fashions and are able to guide you.”

  “Yes, I do enjoy visiting my aunt and uncle in London, I only wish I were able to see them more often.” Elizabeth replied with a twinge of nostalgia.

  “Well,” Miss Bingley r
eplied with false cheeriness, that jarred even Jane’s ears, “being that Mr. Darcy is so generous with his family and friends, no doubt your aunt and uncle in Cheapside shall also profit.”

  Elizabeth smiled thinly. “My aunt and uncle, nor any member of my family have the slightest intention of profiting off of Mr. Darcy, Miss Bingley. You may rest assured on that. Whether or not Mr. Darcy and my relatives shall be friends is entirely between them. However, you are correct that Mr. Darcy is extremely generous with his friends and family. How else should we have met?” she asked, the barest hint of a smile touching her lips.

  Miss Bingley arched her brow in confusion. “Whatever do you mean, Miss Eliza?”

  Elizabeth quirked her lips, in order to stop the large grin she felt forming, “Mr. Darcy only came to Netherfield due to your brother, did he not? This is your first estate lease,” she asked, turning her attention to Mr. Bingley, although she, as well as the whole of Meryton, knew the answer to her query, “is it not, Mr. Bingley? And Mr. Darcy came to guide you, correct?”