‘Oh, that is nothing,’ said Elizabeth. She changed the subject. ‘I am looking forward to seeing Charlotte again.’
‘So am I,’ said Jane.
Charlotte Lucas was their greatest friend in Meryton. Although she was a few years older than Jane and Elizabeth, the three young ladies were very close, and everything that happened in Meryton was always talked over between them.
‘We will hear a much more rational account of everything that has happened in our absence from Charlotte,’ said Elizabeth. ‘There will be more talk of the characters of our new neighbours, and less talk of balls and red coats!’
‘We do not have long to wait,’ replied Jane. ‘The Lucases’ supper party is the day after tomorrow.’
‘That means we have tomorrow to thank Aunt Gardiner for her very great kindnesses to us these past few weeks, and take our leave of her, then to settle back into home life, before meeting our new neighbours. I am looking forward to it.’
Elizabeth meant it. With more people in the neighbourhood, there would be more distractions and it would be easier to ignore Mr Darcy.
But she was unprepared for the circumstances which awaited her at the Lucases’ party.
Chapter Eight
Sir William Lucas had formerly been in trade but he had recently been made a knight, on account of a speech he had made to the king. He had given up trade and moved to a house out of town, which he renamed Lucas Lodge. The Miss Bennets were often there because of their friendship with Charlotte. The house looked particularly well this night, because it had been lit up with hundreds of candles especially for the party. The mirrors had been polished until they shone and they reflected the candles, creating hundreds of bright dancing lights. There were fresh flowers everywhere, such as the gardens afforded at this late time of year, for it was now October and the autumn was advancing.
Elizabeth was looking forward to seeing Charlotte again, and although she did not intend to confide everything to Charlotte, she knew she would take comfort from being in the company of her sensible friend.
As soon as she walked into the ballroom at Lucas Lodge she saw Mr Darcy standing at one side of the room. He was with an agreeable looking gentleman in a blue coat.
‘That must be Mr Bingley,’ she said to Jane.
‘Let us go over and speak to them,’ said Jane.
‘You go. I must just speak to Charlotte,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I am sure Kitty will go with you.’
Kitty was only too ready to go over to Mr Bingley, and so Jane and Kitty went to join the Netherfield party. Mary went over to her aunt Philips and Lydia was soon in the middle of a group of red-coated officers.
Elizabeth joined Charlotte and the two young ladies exchanged all the latest news.
‘My parents have been trying to throw Mr Bingley into my path, in the hopes he will marry me, but to no avail. He is perfectly polite but it is clear he has no interest in me.’
‘Poor Charlotte,’ said Elizabeth with feeling.
Charlotte’s parents were always trying to find a suitable husband for her as they feared she would become an old maid. But Charlotte was very sensible about the whole matter, for she did not have a romantic temperament. She had often told Elizabeth that she would marry if someone made her a suitable offer, but otherwise she was content to remain single.
‘I am pleased to see that he has taken to Jane,’ said Charlotte, looking over in his direction. ‘It will make her life pleasanter if she likes Mr Darcy’s friends.’
Although Jane’s engagement had not been announced, as Mr and Mrs Bennet had not been dead for quite a year, Charlotte knew of Mr Darcy’s proposal because she was such a close friend of Jane and Elizabeth.
‘See, she is about to dance with him,’ said Charlotte.
Elizabeth turned to look at her sister and she saw that, indeed, she was being led out on to the floor by Mr Bingley.
‘What kind of man is he?’ asked Elizabeth.
‘A very good sort of man, I think. Kind, agreeable, good humoured, easy going . . . I am sure any of the Meryton ladies would be happy to call him husband.’ She looked at Elizabeth and said, ‘Perhaps you, Lizzy.’
‘Oh, no,’ said Elizabeth.
‘It would be a good match. Besides, I think you will like him. When he has danced with Jane, I will ask my father to bring the two of you together.’
But when the dance came to an end, Mr Bingley claimed Jane’s hand for a second dance.
‘That is very kind of him,’ said Charlotte. ‘It seems he is determined to get to know Jane, and to like her for Mr Darcy’s sake. And here is my father,’ went on Charlotte. ‘He is bringing Mr Denny over to dance with you. Mr Denny is one of the officers and a respectable man.’
‘You are determined to find me a husband, I see,’ Elizabeth joked.
‘Now that you —’
Charlotte broke off.
‘Now that I don’t have a mother,’ said Elizabeth more seriously.
‘I am sorry, Lizzy, that was clumsy of me.’
‘Not at all.’ Elizabeth reassured her. ‘It is true, Mama was always trying to find me a husband. I used to think her foolish and wish she would not do it, but now that she has gone, I can see that she only wanted what she thought was best for me.’
There was time for no more. Sir William Lucas and Mr Denny were upon them. But Sir William had not brought Mr Denny over to dance with Elizabeth. He had brought the officer over to dance with Charlotte.
Mr Denny bowed politely and Charlotte accepted his hand for the dance.
As if realising that he had deprived Elizabeth of her companion, and that he must make amends, Sir William looked round and spoke to the first gentleman who caught his eye.
‘Ah, Mr Darcy. You are not dancing! You must allow me to present this young lady to you as an estimable partner.’
Mr Darcy looked as if he wished himself somewhere else, but he could not in all politeness refuse to dance after such a speech.
He bowed formally. Elizabeth curtseyed and the two of them unwillingly went on to the dance floor.
The music started and they began to dance.
How unfortunate, thought Elizabeth.
Mr Darcy appeared to think the same, for he did not speak. But then, as if unable to stop himself, he blurted out, ‘You were looking very sad just now. I hope nothing has happened to upset you.’
‘No,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I was just thinking, and remembering.’
‘Ah.’ He fell silent for a few minutes as the steps of the dance parted them. Then he said, ‘I think of my parents, too. It is good to remember them, but the memories are a mixture of pleasure and pain.’
She gave him a grateful glance. There were not many people she could speak to about the loss of her parents, and even fewer who could understand. Mr Darcy, having lost his own parents, knew exactly what she must feel.
‘They are,’ she said. But then, realising the conversation was moving into exactly the kind of areas she must avoid, for they brought her closer to him, she changed the subject. ‘How does your friend like Netherfield Park? I hope he is settling in well.’
‘He is very pleased with it, which is not surprising as Mr Bingley is always pleased with everything. He has a happy temperament and he can see the good in all people and all situations.’
‘Like Jane!’ said Elizabeth, thinking of her sister with affection.
‘Yes,’ agreed Mr Darcy.
‘And what do you think of Netherfield Park? Do you think it was a good choice of estate for your friend?’
‘A very good choice. It is well placed and it is in a good state of repair. His sisters like it and I think he might make it his permanent home.’
‘Will he buy it or will he continue to rent?’
‘If the owners will sell, I will encourage him to buy it. He needs an estate of his own. And besides, he is very hospitable and it will make a convenient place for your sisters to stay when . . . ’ He broke off and seemed to change what he had been about to say.
‘ . . . when they chooses to visit their friends here.’
‘Poor Mr Bingley! Does he know you are encouraging him to buy the estate because it will be convenient for others?’
Mr Darcy smiled at her teasing. He would not have done that a few weeks ago, but he had come to understand it and Elizabeth thought he was growing to like it.
‘Not just for that reason. I think he could look a lot further and not find anything half so good. But even if I were to tell him of my reason for encouraging him – or, at least one of my reasons – he would not be upset.’
Elizabeth thought how lucky it was that Mr Bingley was willing to fall in with Mr Darcy’s plans. Lucky for Mr Darcy! She also thought this was the perfect time to tell him that she did not think that she and her sisters would be going to live at Pemberley. And so she said, with a sweet smile to take any sting out of the words, ‘He will not need to play the host, however, for we do not mean to leave Longbourn.’
He looked relieved.
‘But what if the heir is found and turns you out of the house?’ he asked.
‘If that happens, then my sisters and I will stay with my aunt Philips.’
Mr Darcy frowned.
‘She has a very small house for so many guests,’ he said.
‘Perhaps so, and if it proves uncomfortable then I will go to my aunt Gardiner in London.’
An unusual expression crossed his face, half relieved and half disappointed.
‘But the heir of Longbourn might not be found for quite some time,’ continued Elizabeth. ‘And by then some, or even all, of my sisters might be married and have homes of their own.’
‘And you, too, might be married,’ he said softly.
He looked down at her with an expression that took her breath away.
She was quite sure she would not be married, but she remembered her aunt’s warning and so she said ,‘Yes.’
Elizabeth spoke brightly, but she did not feel bright at the thought, instead she felt heavy, so that she was glad when the dance came to an end.
Mr Darcy bowed and Elizabeth curtseyed, then she left him with relief. Everything about the dance had reminded Elizabeth of why she liked Mr Darcy so much, and why her feelings could easily develop into something more. But she must not encourage such feelings.
She turned her attention resolutely back to the other guests and her eye fell on Kitty, who had been spending much of the evening in the company of a certain gentleman whom Elizabeth did not know. She felt it her duty, as Kitty’s older sister, to find out more about him and so she decided to ask Charlotte.
First, she asked Charlotte if she had enjoyed her dance with Mr Denny.
‘He is eligible enough, but he is something of a rattle. I confess I prefer older men with more experience of life. However, if he makes me an offer – which I doubt – then I will, of course, accept him.’
Then Elizabeth asked the question she wanted to ask.
‘Tell me, Charlotte, who is that gentleman?’
Charlotte followed her gaze.
‘That is Mr Wickham.’
‘What do you know about him?’
‘Only what everyone in the neighbourhood knows: that he is a friend of Mr Denny and that he is thinking of joining the militia; that he is amiable and agreeable; that he has good manners and a good address; that he is well liked and well respected.’
‘That is all to the good. Has he been spending much time with Kitty?’
‘Yes. In fact, I was going to mention it to you. He seems to be serious in his attentions.’
‘Attentions?’ asked Elizabeth, startled.
But, really, it was not so startling. Kitty was eighteen, and many young ladies were married at her age.
‘Perhaps I am wrong to make so much of it. He has not spent more time in her company than is proper, certainly not enough to give rise to gossip. But if he continues to single her out then I think there may be talk.’
‘Do you think his intentions are honourable?’ asked Elizabeth.
‘It is hard to say. I do not know him well enough to be sure.’
‘But he is well liked in the neighbourhood?’ asked Elizabeth.
‘Oh, yes, Mr Wickham is liked wherever he goes. He is very handsome, as you see, and he has charming manners. He dresses well and goes out all the time, and any one of the mothers in Meryton would look kindly on him as a son-in-law. But . . . ’
‘But?’ Elizabeth prompted her.
‘But he does not appear to have a source of income beyond playing cards. The mothers of the neighbourhood might welcome him as a son-in-law but the fathers would require proof of his ability to support a wife.’
‘A charming rogue, then?’ asked Elizabeth. ‘A pity. I had thought there might be more to him than that.’
‘I think, perhaps, there is,’ said Charlotte thoughtfully. ‘He strikes me as one of those young men who lead a wild youth but then settle down later in life, perhaps not to become pillars of the community, but nevertheless to lead respectable lives.’
‘I would like to know more about him.’
‘That can easily be arranged.’
Before very long, with Charlotte’s help, Sir William Lucas had performed the necessary introduction and Elizabeth was walking out on to the floor with Mr Wickham.
As he bowed and she curtseyed, she thought there was something familiar about him. She wondered where she had seen him before.
‘You look pensive,’ he said.
His words were light and agreeable, and they roused Elizabeth from her thoughts.
‘I was just wondering what brought you to Meryton,’ she said.
‘I came to visit one of my friends, Mr Denny. I liked the neighbourhood and so I stayed. I am thinking of joining the militia and I wanted to get to know the other officers before making up my mind.’
‘I saw you dancing with my sister just now.’
‘Ah! Miss Catherine is your sister?’
‘Yes, she is.’
‘Then you must be Miss Elizabeth. Your sister speaks very highly of you.’
‘Kitty?’ exclaimed Elizabeth in amazement. ‘I am surprised she has a thought in her head beyond her bonnets and —’
‘Officers?’ supplied Mr Wickham.
Elizabeth blushed and then laughed. ‘Well, yes.’
Mr Wickham laughed, too.
‘And why not? She is young and enjoying life. I like her lively spirits. They remind me of my own youth.’
‘You speak as if it were in the past.’
‘And so it is.’
He spoke more seriously and Elizabeth was intrigued.
‘Oh?’ she said. ‘And what ended it?’
‘We must all grow up in the end. I am at an age now when I must start thinking of the future. A young man who cannot settle to any employment is one thing, but a man approaching thirty who cannot settle to anything is quite another. I do not want to be that man.’
His words were sensible and Elizabeth found herself approving of him. She was not yet ready to ask him whether his intentions towards her sister were honourable – and, in any case, should it become necessary she would leave it to her uncle to ask – but she was comforted to know that he was starting to take a more serious view of life.
If only she could remember where she had seen him before . . .
The steps of the dance parted them, and when they came back together again she suddenly saw it: he was the man in the miniature portrait at Pemberley, the son of the late Mr Darcy’s steward.
She let out a small cry, and when he asked her what was wrong, she revealed that she had just seen his portrait.
‘Ah, yes, your sister said that you were visiting Pemberley. I did not think you would see the miniature. I am surprised it is still there.’
Elizabeth was curious and asked him what he meant.
‘Mr Darcy’s father loved me as a son, and hung my portrait in pride of place, but Mr Darcy does not like me. I thought he would have removed the portrait once his father died.’
Elizabeth thought of what Mr Darcy had told her: that Mr Wickham had grown wild. But evidently Mr Darcy respected his father’s memory enough to leave the miniature in its accustomed place.
As she looked at the man in front of her, she thought him exceptionally civilised. Was he still wild? she wondered. If so, he was hiding it beneath a charming veneer. Or had he reformed? Charlotte certainly thought him capable of reform, and his own words seemed to suggest it. But only time would tell.
‘Enough of me,’ said Mr Wickham. ‘I would rather talk about you. I have heard something about you from your sisters, but tell me, Miss Elizabeth, what do you do with yourself all day in Meryton? Do you ride or sew or paint? Or do you write novels?’
Elizabeth laughed.
‘I do none of those things. I like to walk.’
‘Then we must walk together, all of us. I will bring some of my fellow officers to call on you and your amiable sisters at Longbourn, if you permit, and we will all go for a walk together. There must be some famous landmarks hereabouts, or some famous beauty spots. Something that newcomers to the neighbourhood would like to see.’
‘Yes, indeed there are,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I would be glad to show them to you.’
‘Then it is arranged. We will call on you on Friday.’
‘I am afraid we are engaged until next week,’ said Elizabeth.
Ever since returning to Longbourn, she and her sisters had been inundated with invitations to take tea or attend dinner parties, supper parties, card parties and other entertainments by people who wanted to hear all about Pemberley.
‘Then will next Tuesday suit you?’ asked Mr Wickham.
Elizabeth said it would and the arrangements were made.
The dance came to an end. Mr Wickham bowed and Elizabeth curtseyed. She felt she had made a good beginning in knowing Mr Wickham. He would undoubtedly be at some of the entertainments during the week, where she could observe him. The walk would give her more opportunity to talk to him and to decide whether he was the kind of gentleman who should be encouraged, or the kind who should be warned away.
She rejoined Charlotte at the side of the room. As she did so, she saw Mr Darcy’s eyes upon her. His mouth was set in a firm line and she knew he was not pleased. But he would have to accustom himself to the fact that she had an independent spirit and that she meant to make up her own mind about Mr Wickham.
Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 1 Page 26
