*****
“Father, I have been thinking,” Elizabeth heard her sister, Mary, say one day shortly after Christmas. “Before we met Mr. Bingley, you had teased Mama about the importance of proper introductions.”
“Yes, what of it?” he replied testily. Any mentions of the Bingleys or Netherfield currently brought on complaints from their mother about Mr. Bingley’s continued absence, combined with Elizabeth’s rejection of Mr. Collins. Fortunately, Mrs. Bennet was not in the room at the moment.
“How can we know the true character of a gentleman who has no connections in the area?”
“Surely we have seen enough to know Mr. Bingley’s amiability,” Elizabeth replied.
“Was six weeks enough to learn that? He was most uncivil by not even calling to say goodbye before leaving the area.”
“He may still return,” Elizabeth said.
“If you believed that, then why would you have encouraged Jane to go to London?”
“Well, his being encouraged to stay by his friends does not mean he is any less amiable.”
Mr. Bennet put aside his book. “Now that presents an interesting idea. Perhaps there is such a thing as too amiable. What do you think Lizzy? Mary?”
“A person may lack a certain resolve,” Elizabeth said, knowing she had accused Mr. Bingley of that only weeks ago.
“He may have very good reasons for staying in London. Or his friends may, should they truly be encouraging him. I am more interested in the case that we may know a person for quite some time and not truly know them at all. Something I think worth reflecting on with the officers of the militia and their frequency in our home,” Mary said while giving pointed looks to Kitty and Lydia.
“Colonel Forster has assured us of the gentlemanliness of every officer,” Elizabeth said.
“Mr. Wickham was a new recruit, and Colonel Forster did not know him before he joined the regiment. We have now known Mr. Wickham for about a month, and I daresay all I know is that he hates Mr. Darcy.”
“Hates Mr. Darcy? On the contrary, Mr. Wickham has surprising patience and fortitude with Mr. Darcy after how cruelly he has been treated by the man.”
“But you only know that because of Mr. Wickham’s testimony.”
“Which you only knew first because you keep him all to yourself!” Lydia exclaimed from across the room.
“Do not tell me you are crossed in love too, Lizzy,” their father teased.
“Hardly, sir.”
Mr. Bennet nodded his head in acceptance. “Now, is there truth to Lydia and Mary’s claims? You like him so much because Mr. Darcy has slighted the fellow as well?”
Elizabeth felt heat rush to her cheeks. “I only have sympathy for his position. It is not that I commiserate with him for being found unworthy of Mr. Darcy’s attentions.”
“Ah, but he found you unworthy at first sight and Mr. Wickham he knew all his life. Mr. Wickham tells us that Mr. Darcy was jealous of him. Now, what can possibly be his reasoning for slighting you then?”
“He slighted the entire area! He thinks we are unworthy of his notice!”
“So, why would Wickham accuse Darcy of jealousy when, from what we have seen, it would be more aligned with his character to think Wickham unworthy of the living merely because of his birth?”
Elizabeth stammered, “Mr…Mr. Wickham said there were stronger motives than pride in Mr. Darcy’s conduct towards him. I would trust Mr. Wickham to know the truth of their relationship better than we can.”
“And yet, can we trust his understanding of the matter?” Mr. Bennet wondered. “Has there not been a recent occurrence that made you doubt your ability to understand a longtime acquaintance?”
Mrs. Bennet then returned to the room, and she began complaining about how the Lucases misused her with their designs on Mr. Collins. As Elizabeth returned to her chamber that evening, she meditated on her father’s questions. She was surprised that her best friend would marry Mr. Collins for nothing more than mercenary reasons. It must be called such. If she truly worried so much for her future security, then she might have married one of the local men. Their area lacked men of much independent means, and however odious Mr. Collins was, he currently held a valuable living and would one day inherit Longbourn. His position was better than many of the gentlemen Elizabeth had met, and Charlotte was no fool.
If Elizabeth misunderstood Charlotte, might Mr. Wickham have misunderstood Mr. Darcy? She could not absolve him of denying Mr. Wickham his due; she had no reason to think well of him. It was possible Mr. Wickham was too close to the situation to see it clearly. Mr. Darcy’s first and last motive in every action must be his pride. And yet…she recalled her questioning of Mr. Wickham on the very subject. By all she understood of Mr. Darcy, he ought to have too much pride to deal dishonestly with Mr. Wickham. Still more, she wondered how such a picture of Mr. Darcy could be true, and yet he could be friends with Mr. Bingley. She found herself declaring contradictions of each man and barely slept.
Despite the cold of late December weather, Elizabeth took her customary walk the next morning. As she walked into Meryton, she saw Mr. Wickham talking with a group of young ladies. After a moment, he extended his arm towards one lady in particular, a Miss King, and they proceeded in her direction. When they saw her, instead of delaying to speak, Mr. Wickham only coloured slightly and then nodded his head. Miss King tightened her hold on Mr. Wickham’s arm while smiling up at him. Elizabeth could hardly make sense of the scene. Mr. Wickham almost looked guilty at being seen by her with Miss King, and yet she could not understand what would elicit that feeling. Elizabeth did not know Miss King well, but they had always been friendly before. She could not think of a reason for Mr. Wickham to feel as though his allegiance was divided.
“How strange that I care little for the lack of attention he gave me and am instead intrigued by the curiosity of the scene,” she said to herself. “How many other ladies might be jealous that he walked with another lady?” She shrugged her shoulders but kept her eyes on the ground, avoiding the puddles a recent rain left. “It is as I said to my aunt. I am most definitely not in love with him.”
“Pity the man who does not have Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s love,” an unexpected voice startled her.
“Oh!” she cried and looked up just before colliding with Mr. Darcy. She began to fall backwards, and as she threw an arm out to steady herself, Mr. Darcy grasped her hand and pulled her forward. Momentum did the rest, and she slammed into Mr. Darcy’s chest. “Ooomph!” She blushed in embarrassment.
“Are you well? I did not mean to startle you,” he said, and his deep voice rumbled in her ear. Why was she still against him? She immediately took a step backwards, only then realising that Mr. Darcy had wrapped his arms around her.
Confused, she stammered a reply. “I am uninjured. I am sorry to have inconvenienced you.” She turned to go around him when she suddenly realised the strangeness that he was in Hertfordshire and wondered if Mr. Bingley had returned. “I thought you were in London! It is quite unexpected to see you here!”
“I returned to Netherfield just last night. I mean to call on Longbourn later in the morning but am glad to have found you alone.”
Elizabeth cared little for his words and instead peered around him. “I know my family will be quite pleased to see the return of the Netherfield party. That is, all but Jane can be pleased as she is in London. Do Mr. Bingley’s sisters remain there? I know Jane intends to call on them.”
“Might we speak candidly, Miss Bennet?”
She looked at him appraisingly. “We can try.”
“As I said in our last conversation, I am aware that you may have been given untruthful information to make you distrust me. At the time, I asked that you not sketch my character, and you claimed it may be your last chance. If your study is not complete, then I would give you another opportunity now.”
His offer was too tempting. If he had arrived yesterday, she likely would have had no reason to amend her thoughts on him,
but the conversation from the day before had altered her opinion of her own judgment. “If we are to continue our acquaintance, it is only correct that I would keep an open mind regarding you.”
Mr. Darcy smiled slightly. “I will take that as a yes.” He led her on the path towards Netherfield. “Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst did not accompany their brother to Netherfield. They wish to enjoy the Season, and he hoped to experience the house during the winter. He claims London holds no interest for him. How does your sister enjoy her time in Town?”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise. It seemed that Mr. Darcy was asking about Jane’s preference for Mr. Bingley. “My aunt and uncle frequently invite Jane and me to stay with them in Town. I do not think she would have agreed this winter, however, if not for one particular reason.”
“Yes, you said that she plans to call on Miss Bingley. She must not wish for her friendship to be interrupted.”
Elizabeth carefully weighed her next words. “It is true that Jane enjoyed Miss Bingley’s friendship. I have never seen her happier than when she expected to see her Netherfield friends at events in Hertfordshire. However, she is aware that my aunt and uncle do not frequently go out in Town and have such different circles of friends that frequently seeing any of her newest acquaintances is unlikely. In truth, the environs of Hertfordshire, memories provoked, and the gossiping inhabitants thereof seemed to pain her. She left for London in very dejected spirits.”
She looked at Mr. Darcy, who at first looked surprised but quickly hid his reaction.
“What part of my statement surprised you? That we are aware of my aunt and uncle’s position in life? It surprises you that one might neither be haughty nor obsequious?”
“I would never accuse you of such a thing. I suggested a frankness in our conversation to which you were hesitant to agree, but I will show you my commitment to it. I was surprised that your sister was capable of such strong feelings. I mistook what I believe now must be general reserve for indifference. I imagined it possible that she followed Mr. Bingley to London, but rather to learn that she went to London to avoid seeing him and memories of him has shocked me.”
The man was too honest for his own good! She easily saw by his expression that he thought he should be praised for his scruples. “With your pleased countenance at confessing to deriding my sister, I wonder how you dare to be so dishonest towards Mr. Wickham.”
“You take an eager interest in that man’s affairs!”
“Who that calls him friend can help but be interested in his misfortunes?”
“Misfortunes indeed!”
“What do you call it when a man is deprived his only means for support? When it is done by design?”
“I have deprived him by design? I understand by your words he has told you that I did not give him a living meant for him, suggested by my father?”
“He told me you disqualified him because he spoke too openly of his poor opinion of you.”
“He gave up the living!” Mr. Darcy roared, causing her to jump. He paced in front of her but spoke in a calmer voice. “When my father died, Wickham gave up the living. He was to study the law, and I gave him an additional three thousand pounds. He lived in dissipation for three years, and when he heard the living was vacant, he asked for it anyway. I refused, and he had no scruples about verbally abusing me. That is when his design began.”
Elizabeth listened in disbelieving astonishment as Mr. Darcy told her that Wickham had met with Darcy’s fifteen-year-old sister and convinced her of an elopement all in an effort to gain her impressive dowry.
“No, it cannot be,” she said when he finished.
“What reason would I have to lie?”
“You…you cannot bear for others to think lowly of you!”
“If I were truly proud and haughty, would I care what you or Meryton thought of me?”
“Well…” She searched her mind for a quick answer and found none. “If what you say is true, why do you share it with me?”
“I intend to make it known to your father and as many people in the area as I can. Mr. Wickham is not to be trusted.”
“You would give up your sister’s reputation?”
“I do not think that will be necessary with the others.”
“Then why tell me?”
He took a step closer to her and spoke gently. “I trust you. You have asked to know my character when others see only the worth of my name and income.”
She had thought he disliked that about her. Before she could reply, they heard steps and turned to look at the intruder.
“Darcy! Miss Elizabeth! How nice to see you!” Mr. Bingley jovially called out.
After she assured Mr. Bingley how pleased she was to learn of his return to the area, he said, “Darcy and I were to call on Longbourn later this morning to visit your parents and sisters. Are all your sisters still at Longbourn?”
“Jane is currently in London visiting my aunt and uncle.”
“London! To think we never heard of her being there. Did you, Darcy?” Without allowing his friend to answer, he turned back to Elizabeth. “I suppose she just recently arrived then?”
Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy looked quite conscious and decided it was between them how much he had kept from his friend. Elizabeth knew Jane had written Miss Bingley of her arrival in London. It was clear that Mr. Bingley did not know of Jane’s presence, but Darcy had shown no surprise when Elizabeth mentioned Jane being in London. She rather wondered if Miss Bingley had mentioned it to Darcy. “She returned with them about a week ago.”
“But do you know how long she means to be there?”
“I do not, sir.”
Mr. Bingley looked pained with indecision. Darcy spoke. “Perhaps your sisters may know more when you return to retrieve them in a few days.”
“But...” he trailed off as Darcy gave him a meaningful look. “Oh yes! Yes, I will be returning to London, only to fetch Caroline, Louisa, and Hurst, later this week. They could not quite part with…” Seemingly realising he was rambling, he ceased speaking.
An awkward silence descended upon the three of them until, at last, Elizabeth spoke. “I should return for breakfast. I look forward to your call.”
She quickly said goodbye and scurried away. Exerting herself as much as she could on the way home so she could not spare thoughts on the strange morning and her argument with Mr. Darcy, she arrived home out of breath and with rosy cheeks.
“Lizzy! You will never believe what our aunt Phillips told us while you were gone!” Lydia ran to her side immediately.
“What?” she said while untying her bonnet and attempting to calm her racing heart.
“Miss King has—” Kitty began but was interrupted.
“No! You do not tell it well!” Lydia interjected. “Miss King’s grandfather finally died, and she inherited ten thousand pounds! Aunt Phillips said she was wearing a dress in London’s latest fashion this morning, surrounded by beaus, and smiling as though she were a painted peacock. They can only want her money; she has all those nasty freckles! It is just as well that a man can get something out of marriage to her for gaining such an ugly wife!”
A chill ran up Elizabeth’s spine. Mr. Wickham’s guilty look this morning was because she had caught him transferring his attentions to Miss King for want of her inheritance. If he could be so mercenary as to attach himself to a lady of merely ten thousand pounds, then what would he do for one with that of Miss Darcy’s worth?
Elizabeth paled and stumbled towards the stairs.
“Lizzy? Are you well?” Mary asked.
“Perfectly. I just need to refresh myself after my walk.”
Upon reaching her room, she sat on her bed. What a blind fool she had been! She had thought she was perfectly sensible about Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy. Wretched vanity! Flattered by Mr. Wickham’s attention and offended by Mr. Darcy’s first estimation of her, she allowed herself to be prejudiced at every turn with both of them.
She soon thought of what Mr.
Darcy had said of Jane and Bingley. He believed Jane indifferent to Bingley. Even Charlotte thought Jane displayed her feelings too little. She owed Mr. Darcy a hearty apology and, still more, wondered how Bingley and Jane could soon meet again. Resolved to try and gain a moment alone with Mr. Darcy, she awaited him and Bingley outside.
They arrived on their mounts at the usual calling time. Mr. Bingley was all easiness at seeing her again, but Darcy stood back. After a few pleasantries with Bingley, Elizabeth gathered her courage. “If you will excuse us, I wondered if Mr. Darcy and I might finish our conversation from earlier.” She trusted Bingley would not feel slighted, and indeed he did not. He happily agreed to go ahead to the house.
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth began once they were alone, “I apologise for my intemperate response to your information earlier. I believe it was kindly meant. I have since reflected on your words and trust the merit of them. The truth is,” she took a deep breath before continuing, “I have been prejudiced towards you, and my dislike of you gave me a false impression of Mr. Wickham. If you can forgive my impertinence, might we start fresh as new acquaintances?”
He took a moment before replying, and Elizabeth began to expect his wrath. Instead, he said in an affected voice, “I can easily forgive you as I regret my own mode of approach. My manners and expressions merited reproach, and even after, I came to the conclusion that I have treated the whole of Meryton badly.”
“You cannot be so harsh upon yourself. You might have offended others at first, but I believe I have been the only person to never give you any credit and to have refused to alter my original perceptions of you. But you should learn some of my philosophy: remember the past only as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”
“It is not philosophy that can give you such contentment but rather your innocence. You had every right to think that I would scheme to separate your sister from my friend for my own motives. I gave you every cause to think Wickham’s accusations were truthful. I have been tortured for weeks now with the realisation that you thought lowly of me the entire time I was in Hertfordshire. I believe I have learned my lesson now.”
Once Upon a December Page 4
