The gentlemen accompanied them through the village until they met with Mary and Mr Collins. More introductions were made, and a great deal of conversation was had, until Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy came upon them on horseback. Elizabeth was astonished by the gentlemens’ reaction to one another. One turned red, the other white, and after a moment, Mr Wickham inclined his head slightly and touched his hat. Mr Darcy spun his horse about without acknowledging the greeting, and rode abruptly away. It was a splendid exit, it was a shame that no one but she and Mr Wickham had noted it properly. She suspected that Mr Wickham had not appreciated it as she had done. Mr Darcy might despise her, but there was still a part of Elizabeth’s girlish heart that found him exceedingly handsome.
Mr Bingley noticed that his friend had disappeared, and left to find him. Then, before their party had travelled more than a few steps, they were hallooed by their Aunt Phillips, who extracted their promise, yet again, that they would attend her card party that night. Their aunt was assured, and she extended the invitation to Mr Wickham and Captain Denny as well. Lydia wheedled the gentlemen into returning to Longbourn with them for tea, and the party started back for Longbourn.
As they made their way home, Wickham spoke. “How long has Mr Darcy been in the area?”
“About a month, perhaps. He was not very well received when he arrived, but he seems to have made more of an effort, presumably for the sake of his friend Mr Bingley. Are you acquainted with the gentleman?”
"Indeed, I have been acquainted with his family since infancy. In fact, you could say that I have Mr Darcy to thank for my present circumstances," Mr Wickham answered.
"In what manner, may I ask?" Elizabeth asked curiously.
He smiled at her charmingly. "I was brought up for the church. The church ought to have been my profession, andwould have been, if Mr Darcy had not defied his father's last wishes, and given the living that was intended for me to another man."
"How terrible! What could induce him to do such a wicked thing?" Elizabeth cried in shock.
"Jealousy, of course. The late Mr Darcy was my godfather, and he was excessively attached to me. Hoping to be of assistance to me, he sponsored my education, and made an effort to provide for me by bequeathing the best living in his gift. But his son could have borne me better had his father loved me less. When the living fell available, it was given elsewhere."
"Why did you not seek redress through the court? Was there no legal method to help you?" Elizabeth asked in horror. How could Mr Darcy do such a thing?
"There was an informality in the terms that was enough to throw doubt, and give me no hope of assistance from the law.” Mr Wickham shrugged his shoulders and smiled sadly. “A man of honour could not have doubted the intent, but Darcy chose to ignore it. I am sure if the matter became known, he would be publicly disgraced. Still, until I can forget my love for the father, I can never expose the son," Wickham answered sadly.
“I never imagined Mr Darcy could be so cruel. He is regarded as a proud man among the village. I am surprised that his pride did not prevent such dishonesty, as dishonesty it must be called," Elizabeth thought aloud.
"Indeed, heisa proud man," agreed Mr Wickham cordially, "but his filial pride would not allow him to admit his father had such a regard for the son of his steward. He has a great fraternal pride as well, which makes him a very careful guardian of his sister, and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers, but I fear he has ruined the poor girl."
"What sort of girl is young Miss Darcy?" Elizabeth inquired.
“I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of my godfather's children," answered Mr Wickham sadly. "But she is too much like her brother—very, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; I devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and I understand, highly accomplished. I made her acquaintance again last summer at Ramsgate and I was saddened at her arrogance. Her father would have been so disappointed."
At this, the conversation ended, for they had arrived at Longbourn. As expected, Mrs Bennet was delighted with Mr Wickham, and the officers were invited for dinner the following day. That night, the young ladies attended their aunt’s card party, as promised, and then four days later, the party at Lucas Lodge.
The house wasfull of cheerful activity in the final days leading up to the ball. Mary and Mr Collins continued to spend time on their own while being discreetly chaperoned. Elizabeth was vigilant in ensuring that their time together was not interfered with, especially by their mother. She observed that the more time Cousin Collins spent with the Bennets, and the more welcoming and affectionate they were to him, the less ridiculous he became. Mr Bennet noticed as well, and made a point to talk to the young man, welcome him to the family, and then discreetly point out to his young cousin that he had not been raised as a proper gentleman, and ought to learn a bit before his time to become one came, so that he would be as successful as possible.
Mr Bennet made a point to visit Mr Babcock, the Longbourn rector, with Mr Collins a number of times, and Mary did as well. Between the influence of the older clergyman and his curate who was an estimable young man, and also Mr Bennet and a few of his gentleman friends, Mr Collins began to see how gentlemen of respectable yet modest estates behaved in company, and also how differently other clergymen managed their interactions with others.
Mary did pay a visit to the dressmaker for new gowns just before the Netherfield ball. She had resigned herself to be more open to becoming colours, and modest yet flattering styles, and agreed that it was necessary to return her sister's wardrobes to them. Because she had spent so little on her wardrobe since coming out, Mr Bennet was happy to give her an ample amount to spend on her attire, and assured her that when she married, that she could also be assured of a generous trousseau.
The entire plan nearly came to naught when Mary, overset with Mrs Bennet's nerves, fluttering, and exclamations of lace, and Kitty and Lydia's endless chatter about cuts and styles, became overwhelmed, and declared she had changed her mind. Mr Bennet intervened and told Mary that too many fashionable opinions would spoil not only her gowns, but her nerves as well, and to select any two of the ladies in their family that she wished to go with her, and that the rest of the household would no longer interfere in the matter.
Mary deliberated, spoke to Cousin Collins about the matter, and then asked Elizabeth, Lydia, and her mother to join her. "Mama, Lydia understands what I like, and is very good at helping me find fashions that are flattering and suit my tastes. Lizzy gives me the courage to make my wishes known. So I am going to ask them to assist me in selecting my wardrobe, but I hope you will accompany us, just to enjoy the outing with me." Mrs Bennet wept a little, then ceased her moaning about lace,and focused upon being pleased to be spending the day with Mary.
CHAPTER 10
The day of the Netherfield Ball was excessively busy for the Bennet household. The servants spent the day heating water for baths, and the sisters spent the day helping each other prepare for the ball. Mrs Bennet was reasonably secure in her third daughter’s courtship, now was the time to secure Jane’s. Mrs Bennet spent the day flitting about Jane, ensuring that every possible effort with Jane’s toilette was made, and the effort was worthwhile. Mr Collins expressed great joy to have the honour of escorting so many lovely ladies with his Cousin Bennet.
Caroline Bingley spared no effort on the affair, and Netherfield was turned out in all its glory. Hundreds of candles lit the rooms, and the flowers from the suppliers in town were stunning. Strands of crystals reflected the candle light, and the ballroom was breathtaking. Miss Bingley was determined that this event would show Mr Darcy what a perfect hostess she was, and inspire him to propose. She spent days hinting that he ought to ask her for the first, to no avail. Mr Darcy never danced the first, and when he finally did, it would make a statement to everyone about his choice.
He asked her for the second, Miss Lucas the third, and immediately after supper, he plucked up his courage and asked Miss Elizabeth for her next available set. Somehow, the lady did not look too pleased, but she accepted. Darcy was tongue tied through the entire set. She needled him about his lack of conversation, which did not help the matter.
“Come Mr Darcy, we must have some conversation,” Elizabeth said with a wry smile.
“Do you converse as a rule while dancing?” he asked.
“No,” Elizabeth answered cheekily.
“No?” he echoed.
“I prefer to be unsociable and taciturn. It adds such flavour to the evening, does it not?” she replied impishly.
