While grasping his arm for all she was worth, Lydia entreated Mr Wickham to join the game of lottery tickets she was about to play as there were two openings at the table.
“Please pardon me Miss Lydia,” Wickham responded as he gave her a half bow, “but I do not intend to play at lottery tickets or any other card game this evening.”
Lydia pouted as she watched the handsome lieutenant walk towards where Lizzy was seated. Mama had told her how she was the liveliest of the Bennet sisters, and she was the best at flirting, so how was it Mr Wickham seemed to desire to spend time with Elizabeth and not her? She was most put out by that fact, and in frustration, stamped her foot under the table.
“Do you object if I seat myself on the settee with you Miss Elizabeth?” Wickham gave her one of his best smiles as he bowed before the raven haired woman.
“I have no objection to your sitting here,” Elizabeth averred.
For the first few minutes they spoke about Meryton and her family. The truth was she chiefly wished to hear about the history of his acquaintance with Mr Darcy. Elizabeth dared not even mention the hated man’s name. Luckily, she did not need to do so, as her partner on the settee brought up the subject without her prompting.
“How far is Netherfield Park from Meryton?” Wickham enquired.
“It is about two miles,” Elizabeth replied.
“How long has…Mr Darcy been residing there?”
“A few weeks, which is too long already! I understand he has a large estate in Derbyshire.”
‘Better and better,’ Wickham thought. ‘I will hardly have to try for her to carry my story around this county so Darcy will be run out of it soon enough.’ Aloud he responded, “Yes, his estate there is a great one. It brings in a clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself, for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy.”
From their introduction, Elizabeth knew Mr Wickham was from the same county as Mr Darcy, but she was greatlysurprised regarding his last assertion.
“You may well be surprised, Miss Elizabeth, at such a statement after seeing, as you probably did, the very unfriendly manner of our meeting earlier today. Are you much acquainted with Mr Darcy?”
“More than I ever wish to be,” cried Elizabeth emphatically. “I have spent some days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable.”
“I have no right to givemyopinion,” said Wickham, “as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible formeto be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish—and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly anywhere else, except here among your own family.”
“Upon my word, I say no moreherethan I might say in any house in the neighbourhood, except for Netherfield Park. He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride. You will not find him more favourably spoken of by anyone.”
‘Good! She will spread anything I tell her about the prig, and she is more than willing to hear me, so she will not question anything,’ Wickham thought happily. Aloud he continued, “I cannot pretend to be sorry.” Wickham made like he was cogitating. Inwardly he celebrated. He was well aware his erstwhile friend was shy and at times would give offence without intending to do so, as it seemed he had done here. “That he, or that any man, should not be estimated in a bad light; but withhimI believe it does not often happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and see him only as he chooses to be seen.”
“I should take him, even onmyslight acquaintance, to be an ill-tempered man.”
Wickham shook his head. “I wonder whether he is likely to be in this country much longer.”
“I do not at all know; but Iheardnothing of his going away when I was at Netherfield Park. I hope your plans in favour of the Derbyshire Militia will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.”
“Oh no! It is not formeto be driven away by Mr Darcy. Ifhewishes to avoid seeingme, he must go. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoidinghim! I can proclaim before all the world, a sense of very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be in company with this Mr Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father.”
Elizabeth could well believe Mr Darcy had committed offences against this man. She listened with all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry.
“The society around Meryton has been most welcoming to the militia in general and myself in particular.” Wickham appeared highly pleased with all he had yet seen, speaking of the area with gentle, but very obvious gallantry. Elizabeth could not but compare the way Mr Darcy had looked on her and her neighbours with disgust, juxtaposed to the way Mr Wickham viewed them.
“It was the prospect of constant society, and good society,” he added, “which was my chief inducement to take a commission in this regiment of the Derbyshire Militia. I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me further by his account of their formerquarters, which were in Westingham, Northamptonshire, and the very great attentions and the welcome they received there, which was almost as warm as here in Meryton.
“Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude. Imusthave employment and society. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The churchoughtto have been my profession—I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now.”
“Indeed!” Elizabeth exclaimed.
“Yes—the late Mr Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living of the three advowsons he had to gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell open, it was given elsewhere.”
“Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth. “How couldthatbe? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress? I can refer you to my Uncle Phillips who is an excellent solicitor.” Elizabeth did not note the flash of fear which passed over Mr Wickham’s face, before he schooled his features and responded.
“There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from the law.” Elizabeth either did not note it, or ignored the contradiction as the man had called it a bequest. “A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr Darcy chose to doubt it—or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, and to assert I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence—in short anything or nothing. Certain it is, the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, that it was given to another man. No less certain is it that I cannot accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve to loseit. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may have spoken my opinionofhim, andtohim, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me.”
“This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”
