“Your pursuit of her fortune, you mean.”
“Harsh words. I prefer to think of it as mutual benefit. She gains an appealing husband who will never bore her with tedious lectures about propriety, and I gain the security that comes with marrying well.” Wickham’s tone grew more serious, though his smile never wavered. “Besides, should I succeed in this endeavour, I would naturally ensure that both you and Georgiana are properly looked after. Family takes care of family, after all.”
The casual mention of his sister sent ice through Darcy’s veins. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing definitive, of course. But a man of means has many opportunities to assist those less fortunate. A better position for you, perhaps. Proper dowry arrangements for Georgiana when the time comes. The possibilities are quite extensive for someone with the right connections.”
Wickham’s words carried undertones that made Darcy deeply uneasy, though he could not pinpoint exactly what threat they contained.
“Why in the world do you think that someone like Lady Elizabeth Bennet would even agree to be courted by someonelike you? Lord Hartford would never permit it. There is opposition to Lady Jane courting Mr Bingley and he is wealthy. While you have not a sixpence to scratch with.”
“Such unkind words, Fitzwilliam,” he said, aware Darcy hated being called by his first name by anyone other than Mr Wickham senior and Georgiana. “I will remind you that I have a comfortable living and am therefore considered a gentleman, a step above both you and Mr Bingley.”
“And may I remind you that you abandoned said living?”
“Which I have left in capable hands for the time being. Besides, if a young lady is inspired enough, she will take on the challenge of unwilling parents. I hear Lord Hartford is quite fond of Lady Elizabeth and can surely be convinced.”
“What are you planning, George?”
“Planning?” Wickham’s expression returned to its habitual innocence. “I am merely a man considering his options, just as you advised.”
At the fork, Darcy stopped his horse.
“I must speak to Lord Hartford.”
“I shall return to the cottage then,” Wickham said but then added, “You know, Fitzwilliam, it truly is as I said. There are ways to rise above one’s station, to claim the respect and security that birth denied us. They require only the right opportunity and sufficient courage to seize it. And I believe such an opportunity will present itself to me soon.”
With that, he spurred his horse forward, leaving Darcy alone at the crossroads as darkness gathered around him, dread settling deep in Darcy’s bones.
Chapter Nine
Elizabeth
One week later…
“Such excellent form you possess, Lady Elizabeth,” Mr Wickham murmured as they moved through the steps of the country dance. His hand was warm against her gloved fingers, his smile practised yet undeniably charming.
Elizabeth accepted the compliment with a polite smile, though something in his tone made her step feel less certain than usual. Around them, the ballroom sparkled with candlelight reflecting off silk gowns and jewelled ornaments, the air thick with the scent of hothouse flowers. Their annual ball had drawn not only the finest of Meryton’s society but the titled and genteel folk from across the area.
Her mother was in high spirits, conversing with a fellow countess, come to visit from two towns over. Still, Elizabeth caught her mother’s eye which was rife with judgement. She hadn’t been at all pleased when informed that Mr Bingley had all but invited the steward’s lodger, nor was she pleased to see Elizabeth dancing with him.
That, in turn, made Elizabeth more determined to converse with Wickham, if only to set her mother’s bristles up further. Sometimes, Lady Hartford could be too high in the instep for her daughter’s liking.
“I will say, I feel somewhat lowly among the more illustrious crowd here,” he said with a smile, the sentiment sounding genuine.
“There are many here who are not highborn,” she pointed out. “The constable is here, the mayor and his clerk, and several aldermen.”
“That you would mention me in the same breath speaks of your character. I am aware I am far beneath even them in station. Perhaps it was presumptuous of me to request an invitation to this ball.”
“You have a right to be entertain just as everyone else. Besides, you are a vicar. That makes you a gentleman and equal to most here. My cousin is a vicar and he most certainly thinks himself a gentleman,” she said.
“That is true. I suppose I have not held my living for very long, having only been ordained a year ago, so I sometimes forget it has somewhat elevated me. Thank you, Lady Elizabeth. You are a marvel.”
“You are too kind, sir,” she replied, allowing him to guide her through the turn. “Though I suspect you say such things to all your partners.”
“Indeed, I do not. I reserve my finest observations for those ladies who inspire them.”
The dance concluded with a flourish, and Wickham escorted her from the floor with obvious reluctance. Elizabeth curtsied her thanks, but her gaze wandered almost immediately to the figure she had been watching throughout the evening.
