“Why is that? I think sermons are a worthy type of literature to consume,” Mary argued.
“She threatened to read to us until we got out of bed and got dressed,” Kitty said, pouting as she sank into her chair. She yawned a very unladylike yawn and Lydia covered her mouth for her.
“It is not fair. Well-to-do ladies usually have breakfast in bed,” Lydia went on.
“When you are married and the wife of some worthy gentleman, you may run your household however he wishes it. But in this house, we eat together as a family,” Mr Bennet said firmly. His gentle reprimand silenced the girls, at least momentarily.
“Papa, may Kitty and I go into town this morning?” Lydia asked.
Their father did not even look up from his newspaper. “I suppose. Will you be going with them, my dear?” he asked their mother.
“My dear girls, I do wish you had discussed this with me yesterday. I promised Lady Lucas I would come and call on her today.”
“Well, Lizzy can go with us. Can’t you, Lizzy?” Lydia asked. “Please say you’ll come. We cannot come by any trouble while she is with us.”
Lydia looked at her earnestly across the table, her eyes wide and pleading. Elizabeth was unsure she wanted to venture into the village, but when Kitty also started her silent pleas, she gave in. It would give her a chance to get her mind off the terrible day that had been and look forward to the new. “Very well. We shall head into town after breakfast. But mind you, I shall not buy you anything while we are there. You already owe me a fortune.”
Lydia squealed with delight and the two youngest girls ate with gusto. Soon after breakfast, the girls had retrieved their bonnets and gloves, donning their autumn Spencer jackets as well, since the air was still chill from yesterday’s rain. The three sisters chatted pleasantly as they headed into town.
“Do you think there will be any soldiers in town when we arrive?” Lydia asked.
“Oh, there are bound to be a dozen or so. And the village will only fill with them more as the day goes on,” Kitty replied.
“Now, girls, I did not agree to stay in town all day long. I have some mending that needs my attention, and —” Elizabeth’s words were cut off by her sisters pleading with her to change her mind.
“I shall stay until noon, and that is as far as I will budge,” Elizabeth said. The idea of staying all the day long made her joints ache. Besides that, she wanted to have time for a walk in the afternoon to clear her head, without her sister’s constant chatter.
Meryton was bustling with unfamiliar faces, and all of them clothed in the bright red uniforms of the militia. Lydia suddenly stopped in the middle of the street as they were crossing and called out to one of their new acquaintances, agentleman who had been among the first of the company to arrive. “Mr Denny!”
She and Kitty hurried toward the man, and Elizabeth did her best to keep pace. “Lydia, it is impolite to yell at a gentleman across the street,” she hissed before they drew near.
“Oh, Denny does not mind. How do you do, Mr Denny?” she asked. She curtsied, and the man bowed to them all. Elizabeth was soon at no loss to guess why her sisters so enjoyed his company, for the ensign was young and handsome, with pleasing manners and no lack of conversation.
“How do you do, Miss Lydia? Miss Bennet, Miss Kitty?” He greeted them with a congenial smile.
Mr Denny turned as a man exited the nearby shop. “Here is my companion, Mr Wickham. He has just purchased his commission as a lieutenant, ladies. I assure you, he will climb the ranks quickly if I know anything about his mettle.”
Elizabeth did not object to the introduction, for everything proclaimed Mr Wickham to be a gentleman. Upon receiving his compliments and giving him theirs in exchange, Elizabeth grew still more convinced of it. He was very handsome, of course, but this was nothing. The debacle with Mr Darcy had shown how very poorly a handsome man could behave. More importantly, Mr Wickham was quite delightful to talk to, with very engaging manners and a way of listening to her as though he had never heard anything so interesting in all his life. He fell into step beside her as they walked. Elizabeth winced to hear her sisters giggling at the handsome soldiers, alternating between talking with Mr Denny and whispering at each new red coat they saw. With very well-received consideration for her feelings, Mr Wickham acted as though he did not notice, barring only a brief glance towards the girls now and then.
“Are you enjoying your stay in Meryton so far, Mr Wickham?” Elizabeth asked.
“I am. It is a pleasant change from the busy towns we have been stationed outside of as of late.” Mr Wickham clasped his hands behind his back, looking over at her with interest. “Have you lived in Meryton all your life?”
“Yes, I was born here, as were all my sisters. Our father owns an estate called Longbourn, not many miles from here.” Elizabeth felt her heart flutter in her chest. Mr Wickham was certainly handsome, with bright green eyes and his hair curling thickly and neatly arranged. Though chiding herself for being as ridiculous as her sisters, Elizabeth could not help but notice that the bright red of his coat became him remarkably well.
“And where do you hail from, Mr Wickham?”
“I was born on an estate in Derbyshire. My father was a steward at a place called Pemberley for much of my childhood.”
Elizabeth was taken aback. “Pemberley? The home of the Darcys?” she asked.
“Yes. You know it?”
Elizabeth could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She had hoped to have some time before coming so near the subject of the previous day’s embarrassing scene. “Yes, I know of it, although I have never been there.”
“Ahh, yes. Well, it is breathtaking. My father worked there until the day he died.” Mr Wickham stopped for a moment, and she slowed as well, turning to face him. “I was taken into the home as one of the family by the late Mr Darcy. It was a travesty when that man left this earth.” He shook his head sadly. “Are you acquainted with the son at all?”
She raised her brows. “I — am,” Elizabeth said a little abruptly. She might have said much more, and yet it would hardly be discrete to speak of it with a man she had only just met, no matter how engaging his manners.
