by Jann Rowland
Her fists clenching and unclenching, Elizabeth’s first instinct was to slap Lydia senseless. But she was interrupted by Jane’s loud:
“That is enough, Lydia! Do not speak of matters you know nothing about!”
Silence fell over the group, and though Elizabeth was still fuming at her ignorant sister, she was surprised at the sternness in Jane’s voice and at the fact that Lydia actually listened to Jane and subsided, though she was still glaring hatefully at Elizabeth. Catherine was glancing at both her sisters with wide eyes, the impropriety of their confrontation in a public place seeming to penetrate her thoughts, and Mary just looked at Lydia with disapproval, mumbling under her breath about the loss of virtue in a female.
As for the men, the two officers were shuffling their feet back and forth, clearly trying to look anywhere but at the scene which had played out before them, while Mr. Wickham, glanced back and forth between Lydia and Elizabeth. When his gaze rested on Elizabeth, however, she thought she detected a hint of interest in his manner. What he could be interested in, she was not certain, but she was resolved that she would never even speak to him if she could manage it.
“I believe it is best for us to be on our way,” said Lieutenant Denny. After a subdued farewell, the three men bowed and went their way.
But as they were retreating, Elizabeth thought that she could see a quiet yet animated conversation spring up between them, and she noted several times when they glanced back at her and her sisters.
Stupid, stupid mistake! She should never have called Lydia out, especially when she was well aware of the fact that Lydia could never hold her tongue. They would be lucky if rumors of the confrontation had not begun to make their way around Meryton before nightfall.
Disheartened, Elizabeth followed her sisters down the street and to her aunt’s house.
Chapter XI
“Elizabeth Bennet!”
The piercing shriek reverberated through the parlor, and Elizabeth thought for a brief moment that it would almost be easier if she were deaf—at least then she would not be subjected to her mother’s bellows.
They had arrived home after spending some time with their aunt, and as Elizabeth had not felt equal to speaking with anyone, she had immediately retired to her room to rest until it was time to return to her aunt’s home for the card party. The situation that Lydia might have inadvertently created was weighing heavily on her mind.
Of course, it had not been made any better by Lydia’s furious glares and the demeaning comments which she had frequently made at Elizabeth’s expense. Not that Elizabeth paid any attention whatsoever to the spiteful girl; Lydia’s opinion was not precisely of any concern, especially when the girl had not an ounce of understanding of propriety.
But Elizabeth was not allowed to rest for long. Lydia had no doubt wasted no time in relating to Mrs. Bennet what had occurred in Meryton, though Lydia’s version of events likely only bore cursory resemblance to the truth. Mrs. Bennet’s shrieks had soon proclaimed her knowledge of the confrontation, however, and her screaming demands for Elizabeth’s presence forced Elizabeth from her room and down to the parlor where she could be called to account for what had happened.
“Let me make myself rightly understood, Elizabeth!” Her mother’s voice was in full force, and it grated on Elizabeth’s nerves and her ears. “You are never to speak to Lydia that way again!”
All the while, Lydia sat to her mother’s side, an insufferable smirk directed at Elizabeth. How Elizabeth longed to wipe it from her face!
“I am waiting, Elizabeth!” snapped Mrs. Bennet. “You will oblige me.”
“I would not have to say anything to her if you would do so yourself!” retorted Elizabeth, her anger getting the upper hand over her better judgment.
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes bulged out, and she screamed, “There is nothing wrong with my Lydia’s behavior! She is high-spirited, which is just the kind of behavior that attracts the officers!”
“The kind of behavior which attracts all the wrong sort of officers,” said Elizabeth. “Her behavior is more suited to a girl from a house of ill repute than to a young lady of gentle breeding.”
If Elizabeth thought her mother was furious before, it was nothing compared to the rage which now showed in the redness of her face and the whiteness of her knuckles as she clutched the arms of the chair in which she sat. For a moment, Elizabeth was certain that the woman would either strike her or fall over dead of apoplexy.
At length, however, Mrs. Bennet turned to her husband and demanded, “Are you going to allow her to speak of your youngest daughter in such an infamous manner?”
“It is nothing more than the truth, is it not?” was Mr. Bennet’s reply.
Mrs. Bennet stared at her husband, aghast at what she was hearing. “How can you say such a thing, Mr. Bennet?”
“I say it because Elizabeth is correct. Your youngest daughter is silly and ignorant, and she has not the first inkling of proper behavior. I suppose that someday she will expose us all to ridicule with her behavior. I merely hope that it is in some forum which does not come back to reflect poorly on her family and that it will teach her of her own insignificance.”
Mrs. Bennet was stunned to silence by her husband’s denunciation of her favorite daughter’s behavior. But in reality, it was not truly a denunciation—in fact, Mr. Bennet might have been speaking of nothing more than the weather for all the emotion of his words.
Clearly, he was well aware of the fact that his daughter was on the road to ruination, and he could not be bothered to rouse himself enough to check her behavior. Elizabeth gazed sadly at him. But Mr. Bennet merely caught her gaze and regarded her with that same empty expression which he always wore.
At that moment, Lydia huffed and quit the room, but not before she favored Elizabeth with an angry look which clearly suggested that the matter was not closed. Though the girl’s behavior was all that was detestable, Elizabeth pitied her. She was indulged by her mother in her every whim and ignored by her father, and she would undoubtedly discover one day, to her great detriment, that her behavior would bring her nothing but ruin. Hopefully, she would discover it in a manner which would not disgrace her sisters, for Elizabeth had little hope for the girl herself.
Mrs. Bennet gazed at her husband in horror, completely unable to respond to such brutal honesty. Mr. Bennet merely ignored her.
“But regardless of whether it is the truth,” said he, looking at Elizabeth, “you will not speak to your mother in such a fashion.”
In searching his face and the inflection of his voice, Elizabeth attempted to divine his thoughts on the matter, but he was as inscrutable as always. That in itself told Elizabeth that he was just as indifferent to this matter as he was to almost everything. His directive seemed to be nothing more than a show, but Elizabeth was not certain of the reason for it. To exert his authority? But why would he exert his authority over Elizabeth when he did not do so over the rest of the family? Elizabeth felt a frisson of unease pass through her.
But she could do none other than agree with his directive and ask that she be dismissed, which he allowed. Needless to say, Elizabeth spent the time before her aunt’s card party alone in her room, as she did not wish to speak with anyone in her family.
Darcy entered the bookroom, and his first impression was that this was a room which had seen extensive use. The sturdy desk dominated the room , yet it showed unmistakable signs of age. Books of every sort lined the bookshelves and spilled out onto the floor, and even the chair in which Mr. Bennet sat creaked and groaned alarmingly when the man shifted his weight in it.
Darcy could see that the weathered nature of the room was a reflection of the man in front of him. Mr. Bennet could be no more than perhaps fifty, Darcy thought, but his sunken cheeks, the extensive grey in his hair, and the way his hands shook slightly—these all seemed to suggest a greater age than he actually possessed. It was a mystery, as Mr. Bennet did not have the appearance of a man who indulged in excessive drink, a
nd as for other vices, it was said that he rarely emerged from this room, so the more common of those seemed out of the question.
“You have requested my attention, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Bennet without any attempt to engage in the typical pleasantries. “What would you like to discuss?”
Suppressing a grimace, Darcy decided that it was best to oblige him by going straight to the point. “I have come today because something happened in Meryton which excited my concern.”
Mr. Bennet merely looked bored. “Has one of my daughters offended you, Mr. Darcy?”
“No, indeed, sir. Rather, I met in the village a man by the name of Mr. Wickham who has joined the militia.”
“And meeting this man is a cause for concern?”
“If you knew George Wickham like I do, you would find cause to be concerned, too, Mr. Bennet.” Darcy watched the other man for any indication of his thoughts, but when he received no response, he continued. “I have long been acquainted with Mr. Wickham, as he grew up at my estate and was the son of my father’s steward.”
“And his descent offends you?”
“No,” snapped Mr. Darcy, his annoyance beginning to be piqued. “But his fondness for the gaming tables, his propensity toward leaving debts wherever he goes, and his penchant for ruining young ladies—gentlewomen and servants alike—definitely offends me.”
Mr. Bennet regarded him evenly. “Those are serious accusations, Mr. Darcy. Am I to suppose that you have proof of these claims?”
The insinuation was, of course, that Darcy expected to be believed based on nothing more than his standing in society, which would betray an arrogance far from the common sort. But Darcy refused to rise to the bait.
“If required, I do,” confirmed Darcy. “I have kept the receipts from his debts at both Cambridge and Lambton, a small town near my estate in Derbyshire, and I can call on the testimony of more than a few regarding his other activities. If these are insufficient, I suggest that you wait a week or so and then canvass the shopkeepers in Meryton and his fellow officers. I doubt he has reformed since I last saw him.”
“I will take your information under advisement,” said Mr. Bennet.
Aghast, Darcy glared back at the other man. “I do not think that you understand the gravity of the situation, sir. When I came across Wickham, he was being introduced to your daughters and appeared to be making quite an impression on them. From Miss Elizabeth, I had the impression that he had attempted to make himself agreeable to your eldest in particular, though I witnessed his interested glances at Miss Elizabeth as well.”
“Elizabeth and Jane you say? In that case, I believe all is well. I do not doubt he will have no success with either of them. And my other daughters have not the means to attract a fortune hunter.”
“And if his purpose is seduction?”
Mr. Bennet waved his hand. “Again, I doubt he will receive any attention from Jane or Elizabeth, and my younger girls are so silly that I should think they would drive him away long before he could try anything underhanded.”
Whatever Darcy had expected upon coming here, this was certainly not it. He had known from his observation that Bennet was indolent and an indifferent father, but this was beyond any comprehension.
“And what of the merchants?”
“Do not worry, Mr. Darcy. I shall take care of the matter.”
Though he doubted that Mr. Bennet would take any action at all, Darcy decided at that point that it was fruitless to argue the matter any further. He had done his duty in bringing Wickham’s proclivities to the man’s attention, and if Mr. Bennet chose to ignore his warning, then there was nothing further that he could do.
With nothing further to discuss, Darcy rose and bid the other man farewell, noting that he was not afforded the same courtesy in response. His horse had not been stabled at his instruction, so he was soon mounted and riding away from Longbourn, seething at the treatment he had received and the lack of any kind of response from Mr. Bennet.
Wickham was a problem. He wreaked havoc wherever he went, leaving behind ruined lives and debts unpaid. He had intruded far too often in Darcy’s life, and Darcy had just about had enough of repairing the damage Wickham left in his wake.
Perhaps it was time Wickham learned the true measure of his own importance, Darcy mused. His cousin the colonel was highly placed in the army and had recently received a promotion which had resulted in his addition to Wellesley’s staff. A quick letter to Fitzwilliam would likely see Wickham transferred to the front lines in the battle against the tyrant on the Spanish Peninsula. Darcy could not imagine such a fate handed to a more deserving recipient than George Wickham. He decided to send a letter to his cousin immediately.
And as for Miss Elizabeth—for Darcy had witnessed the man’s interest in her—if her father was not about to exert himself in her defense, then Darcy supposed that he must take the office upon himself. He thought much too highly of her to allow her to fall prey to such a libertine.
Elizabeth walked into the parlor of her aunt’s home that evening feeling an emotional ambivalence. She would almost have preferred to avoid the event, though it would take her from her father’s house for a time. But even that benefit was muted by the disgust she felt for her mother and youngest sister. She was already wishing that she had accepted her uncle’s offer to accompany them to Ireland.
But she had made the decision to stay at her family home, and as she was not disposed to worry over past decisions, Elizabeth firmly put the matter from her mind.
The home of Mr. and Mrs. Phillips was not a large one, and since they had apparently invited a number of acquaintances, the crowd appeared larger than it actually was due to the close quarters. But as the Mr. and Mrs. Phillips were not of the gentry themselves, regardless of their connection to the Bennets, most of those invited were acquaintances of theirs, and there were relatively few people present who Elizabeth already knew.
Mr. Phillips was a kind enough man, but he was also a little dull and bluff. He readily performed the office required, introducing Elizabeth to those she whom had not already met. The card tables had already been placed, and refreshments were sitting on several side tables. There were more people present than positions at the card tables, so many people were in conversation about the room, and Lydia had gathered a number of officers and acquaintances about her to play lottery. Among them were several of the officers, including Wickham, so Elizabeth was cheerfully able to avoid that particular entertainment. Unfortunately, she underestimated Mr. Wickham’s resolve.
Elizabeth and Jane sat on a sofa conversing amiably for some time before Jane excused herself to go speak with another acquaintance. Elizabeth was about to rise when the seat which had been vacated by her sister was taken by Mr. Wickham.
“Miss Elizabeth,” said he with animated smile which did nothing to hide his calculating expression. “I have wished to speak with you this evening, but you seem to be quite popular.”
“On the contrary, Mr. Wickham,” replied Elizabeth, “I have not been the focus of any unusual attention.”
“I am certain you are much too modest. I have heard it said that you have been from home for quite some time.”
“I lived with my aunt and uncle in London.”
“Ah, then you must be happy to be home.”
“Quite.”
He paused and regarded her for several moments, clearly thinking over his next words, and though Elizabeth would have preferred to quit his presence entirely, her innate sense of politeness kept her from leaving. Surely if she was noncommittal and added little to the conversation, he would tire of it and move on.
“I must say that society here in Meryton exceeds my expectations,” said he after a moment. “This is a quaint little town, and I am certain that I shall be quite happy here as long as the militia is in residence.”
“That is fortunate indeed,” said Elizabeth.
“Yes, indeed,” was his pleasant reply. “But while the great majority of the town is obliging and
kind, I suppose even Meryton cannot be perfect. For you see, though I like what I see of the area and the people I have met, the presence of one gentleman forced me to consider leaving without joining the regiment as I had intended.”
Privately, Elizabeth wished that he had followed through with that inclination, as it would have spared her his words now. And though it was obvious to whom he referred, she was quickly tiring of the conversation, and she wished she knew how to end it.
“Miss Elizabeth, I noted that you were speaking with Darcy earlier in a somewhat intimate manner. Since you obviously cannot know exactly what Mr. Darcy is, I had thought to illuminate you so that you might be on your guard.”
“I am already on my guard,” replied Elizabeth a little sharply. “I think you had best desist from this improper conversation, Mr. Wickham.”
“Please indulge me, Miss Bennet,” said he, forestalling her departure. “I shall only take a moment.
“You see, I have long been acquainted with the Darcy family, and his father was among the best men of my acquaintance. I was nothing more than the son of his steward, yet Mr. Darcy loved me as his own. I received my education at Cambridge due to his largesse and was treated with affection the entire course of his life.
“Unfortunately, the son was not cut from the same cloth as the father. After his father’s death, Darcy refused to honor his father’s wishes and present me with the family living which had been designated in his will. That is why I am now a member of the militia, having been left to fend for myself when I should have been provided for by my godfather. Had his son been honorable, I might already have been married.” Here, he paused and directed a handsome smile at Elizabeth which she could only see as false. “Of course, though I would be set up and provided for, I likely would not have met as enchanting a lady as yourself, so I suppose that I have no real cause to repine.”
Ignoring his empty flattery, Elizabeth turned a baleful glare on the man. “Why are you telling me this, Mr. Wickham? What can it possibly have to do with me?”
